Katarina’s POV, At Vittorio mansion
I could smell her before I even saw her. Thick incense. Like something burning in a temple. It wrapped around my throat, making my head swim a little. She moved like smoke, too soft, slow, but heavy with her presence.
I blinked up at the woman everyone called Aunt Malva.
She looked like something from one of those books I read about voodoo queens and priestesses. Her eyes were sharp, ancient. Her beads clinked with every step. Her dreads were tied high like a crown. She didn’t look like a maid. She looked like she belonged on a throne made of bones and fire.
"Come, baby," she said gently, like I wasn't shaking or covered in bruises. "You need rest."
My legs barely worked, but she took my arm, steady and warm, and helped me up the staircase. So many
