Another fic from my Vampire Hunter AU! This one is a loose interpretation of the Pompeii/Man in the Mirror arc so be prepared for some Giorno and Abbacchio at each other's throats and also some added Abbacchio angst.
(You may wanted to read Hunters and Hunted before this for more world building, but you can also enjoy this one as is)
Monsters and Fallen Saints
A JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Fanfic
(Vampire Hunter AU) Bucciarati sends Giorno and Abbacchio on a mission in the hopes that they will learn to work together. However, when their target reveals himself to be someone from Abbacchio's past with a plan for revenge, the Hunters find that their chances of making it out alive are looking grim.
Part One
Giorno sat reading the paper as he was enjoying his brunch and coffee, half listening to Narancia and Mista's conversation about cannibalism and if it still qualified if someone was vegetarian.
"Giorno would know better than us," Narancia finally said, causing the blond to glance up with a quirk of an eyebrow. "So do people with a normal diet taste different than someone who just eats vegetables?"
"Nara!" Mista put a hand over his eyes. "You don't have to answer that, Giorno."
Giorno lowered his paper briefly. "Well, I've actually never really thought about it before," he said thoughtfully. "I don't usually ask about someone's diet before I drink their blood…but I suppose there is a difference in animals who are vegetarian and those that are omnivorous. I can tell you that ghouls at least are not recommended. They have a very bad aftertaste."
Narancia laughed in horrified delight and Mista grinned.
"You're a funny man, Giorno Giovanna." The gunman stood and grabbed his cap from the table where he'd set it. "Come on, Narancia it's time for us to head out."
"Right. I'll go grab my gear."
Giorno turned back to his coffee, finishing up the paper in the brief moment of silence.
He'd been living at the Hunters' mansion for about a week now, and had spent most of the time settling in with Bucciarati taking it upon himself to teach Giorno the ins and outs of hunting as a profession.
Since there hadn't been any hunts he had been needed on since his first mission with Mista, he'd spent most of his time in the library looking through all the old histories and journals left by predecessors of the business. In the back of his mind was a particular photo that his mother had given him, but he had yet to find any trace of the vampire who had been his sire. Giorno had a feeling he might never know the truth behind his heritage. From what he knew of vampire hierarchy, dhampirs were usually considered worse than bastards. Rarely claimed by their vampire parents due to the fact that conceiving a child with a human was considered taboo and were thus usually sold off to upper-class human families to use as little more than slaves, depending on what powers they might possess. Still, he'd at least like to know more than his father's name someday, even if he could never claim Giorno as his own child.
He folded the paper back up neatly and stood to see if Bucciarati needed him for anything that day, but Fugo walked into the dining room and stopped when he saw Giorno.
"There you are. Bucciarati wants you in on a mission briefing."
Interested, Giorno followed Fugo to the office where Bucciarati sat at his desk, Abbacchio leaning one hip against it, arms folded. His back was turned to the door but as soon as Bucciarati looked up he also did and his expression instantly soured when he saw Giorno.
"Bucciarati, you're not seriously thinking of sending the brat with us?"
"Yes, I am going to send Giorno with you and Fugo," Bucciarati replied pointedly. "This mission is an unknown and with Narancia and Mista out, and myself heading to a meeting with Nero, you three are the only ones I have available right now."
"But—"
"Abbacchio," Bucciarati cut in with a glower. Giorno watched as the two locked eyes defiantly for a moment before Abbacchio finally ducked his head, folding his arms firmly over his chest as his lip curled.
"What is the mission, Bucciarati?" Fugo asked to cut through the tension.
Bucciarati folded his hands in front of him on the desk. "We've had word of suspicious activity being sighted at the Fanelli family's winter home. They're currently in Rome, but one of the neighbors has spotted people coming and going late at night and have heard "unsavory noises" coming from the house. It's possible that roving vampires or ghouls might have taken up residence. I want you all to assess the situation and make a decision accordingly." He stood up, stacking several folders into an attaché case. "Illuso from Nero's team will be meeting you there. I thought it might be a good idea to have him on board if this devolves into vampire politics."
"So we have two fangs now," Abbacchio muttered.
"I have faith that you will all work together well," Bucciarati said firmly as he snapped his case shut. "Fugo, I'll leave it up to you to figure out what supplies you might need. The coach will be here in a few minutes. Abbacchio…a word."
Giorno followed Fugo out of the office and toward the basement armory.
"Is this going to be a problem?" Giorno had to ask.
Fugo glanced up at him. "Perhaps you should try not to make it a problem. Abbacchio will do what's best for the mission, but I would suggest not provoking him. We don't have the luxury to play around with petty squabbles here, it can get people killed."
"I don't disagree with you," Giorno said, though felt slightly indignant. He hadn't been trying to provoke Abbacchio before—well, not much anyway.
"Just remember that you're still new here and we have a lot more experience than you—whatever inside information you might have due to your genetic makeup."
Giorno pressed his lips into a thin line. While Fugo had been civil enough to him, he couldn't help but feel that the serious young man might be more inclined to take Abbacchio's side if push came to shove. Giorno wondered if he was going to have to watch his back among his own team that day. He really needed to figure out how to win Abbacchio over before he risked dividing Bucciarati's team.
He helped Fugo pack up several extra weapons and what looked to be some kind of smoke bombs into a large case. Then Giorno strapped on the saber he had been using and Fugo tucked a pistol under his arm in a hidden holster.
"The coach should be here by now. Let's go. If it is vampires it will be better to surprise them while they're sleeping."
Giorno nodded and followed him outside.
Abbacchio was already there, weapons strapped on—a heavy sword and several stakes hanging from twin belts crossed over his chest. He looked furious but didn't say a word as they got into the coach that would take them to their location. Giorno wondered with a little bit of satisfaction, just what Bucciarati had said to him.
But he also understood what Fugo had said. It would be dangerous to have petty squabbles during a mission. Giorno was willing to keep his head down and work, as long as Abbacchio was willing to do the same.
Abbacchio slumped on one side of the coach, face firmly turned toward the window, which he'd purposefully left open so that it would cast a beam of sunlight across Giovanna's smug face. He knew it wouldn't do anything, as indirect as it was, but he hoped the brat was still uncomfortable.
He was still seething from the reprimands Bucciarati had given him.
"I know I cannot force you to like Giorno, but this open hostility needs to stop, Abbacchio."
"Why the hell do you like him so much?" Abbacchio had to ask. "He's not specia—unless you want him for whatever abilities he might possess."
"Of course not," Bucciarati snapped. "You know me better than that. I wanted Giorno on the team because he's cunning and has a good mind for hunting He also deserves a chance to make something of himself—like all of you."
"And what if he's already done something to you to make you trust him? Some half-fangs are able to manipulate people! What if he's just biding his time before he uses us as his free source of food?"
"Enough, Leone!" Bucciarati snapped, genuine fury in his eyes that twisted Abbacchio's stomach to see. "I'm not going to argue this with you anymore. Everyone on this team deserves to feel like they belong—including you. But without a reason other than bigotry I'm afraid you're not the one who's going to come out on top of this argument."
"That's not—"
"Leone, I know more than anyone why you feel this way, but it's not our job as Hunters to play judge and jury to all supernatural beings. We are simply here to execute those who cross a line."
"He's killed people," Abbacchio growled.
"And we have killed dhampir," Bucciarati reminded him. "And yet Giorno still trusts us. I think you should give him the same courtesy."
As much as Abbacchio respected Bucciarati it was, perhaps, because of that respect that he couldn't understand why the man was so adamant about Giorno being an asset to the team. To be honest, Abbacchio wasn't even entirely sure why the brat bothered him so much. Was it truly because he was a monster? Or was there another reason that Abbacchio didn't want to investigate further.
The coach stopped behind another, down the street from where the townhouse resided.
Abbacchio got out instantly and adjusted his weaponry as Fugo and Giorno climbed out behind him.
The door to the other coach opened and a large umbrella preceded a figure stepping out.
"Well, hello there, Fugo. I didn't realize I'd be working with Grumpy and your new boy today."
Abbacchio snarled. "Don't test me, Illuso, or I might shoot a hole through your umbrella."
The vampire smirked, seeming unbothered as he stuck a fist on one hip. He looked about three decades out of date with his extravagant lace trimmings and breeches, but vampires rarely decided to update their wardrobes. Besides, his fashion sense wasn't exactly Abbacchio's issue.
Fugo stepped forward. "Giorno, this is Illuso, he's from Risotto Nero's faction. Illuso, this is our new team member, Giorno Giovanna."
"The dhampir, I've heard," Illuso said, stepping forward and offering a gloved hand for Giorno to shake. "And don't worry, I have no issues working with a half-blood. I became a hunter because I hate my kind and all of their stupid old-fashioned ideologies. Some of us aren't as flexible, though." He glanced pointedly at Abbacchio who had to fight the urge to say something in retort.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Giorno said in return.
"We're burning daylight," Abbacchio grunted. "Let's go."
"Don't you think it might be a good idea to see what we can find from the outside first?" Giorno asked. "After all, we aren't entirely sure what we're up against."
Abbacchio spun around in annoyance. "The longer we hang around, the less chance we'll have to take them by surprise. Vampires or ghouls, both of them are going to be asleep this time of day. And if its human squatters I don't think they'll be a problem."
"Asleep or not they can still be dangerous when woken," Giorno continued, causing fury to boil up in Abbacchio. As if he knew what the hell he was talking about. "I just think it would be better to see what we can find—"
"Are you in charge of this mission, brat?" Abbacchio snapped, stepping forward to shove a finger into Giorno's chest. "You've been with us barely a week. You don't make any calls."
"It was only a suggestion."
"Well I suggest you keep your mouth shut." Abbacchio twisted his lip in a pointed manner.
"Abbacchio," Fugo spoke up, brow furrowed. "Bucciarati would not appreciate the squabbling. I say we go in with caution, unless Illuso has another suggestion."
"I prefer to get missions done as quickly as possible, especially when I'm forced to get up for them," the vampire yawned. "I defer to you on this—I'm mostly here as a consultant."
Abbacchio felt slightly gratified to see the annoyed scrunch of Giorno's eyebrows. He pulled out his sword to hold it at the ready and motioned toward the walk. "Well, let's go then."
They made their way to the front door and Fugo tested the knob, finding that it twisted easily.
"Didn't even bother to lock it," he muttered.
They stepped into the dim interior, finding it quiet and dark. Most of the visible furniture had sheets over it, waiting for the family to come back for the winter. Upon initial inspection, there didn't seem to be any disturbance, but Abbacchio wasn't willing to bet on that. It was a large house.
"Oh, definitely vampires here," Illuso muttered quietly. "Can you smell them?"
Giorno nodded to Abbacchio's annoyance.
"Can you tell how many?" the Hunter asked.
"No…but I know there's at least more than one," Illuso commented.
Abbacchio tightened his grip on the sword. "Fine. I suggest we split up and search the house. Fugo, you're with me." He turned to Giorno. "You can work with the vampire."
"I have a name, Hunter," Illuso quipped.
"Shouldn't you split us up since we can both sense the vampires without seeing them?" Giorno asked, opening his mouth yet again.
"Are you going to contradict everything I say, brat?" Abbacchio demanded, stepping forward before Fugo put an arm across his chest.
"It's not the time for this. Giorno, we'll be fine—we've worked quite a few cases without supernatural aid."
Giorno pressed his lips into a thin line but he didn't say anything and Abbacchio was glad of that. He motioned to the hallway behind them. "You take that way. We'll go this way and then head upstairs if we don't find anything."
Abbacchio and Fugo started off toward what seemed to be the parlor, walking as quietly as they could.
"You really need to figure out this issue between you and Giorno," Fugo said quietly as they went.
Abbacchio huffed. "I already heard it from Bucciarati, I don't need you on my ass too," he grunted.
"Well, he's right, obviously," Fugo hissed back. "I understand you are uncomfortable working with a dhampir, but I've never seen you treat Illuso with such open hostility when we've teamed up in the past." He paused then asked. "Are you jealous of Giorno?"
Abbacchio spun around in indignation. "Why the hell would I be jealous of a half-fang street brat?"
"Because he's naturally stronger and faster than us, plus he can sense the supernatural without seeing them. All excellent advantages for a Hunter. Bucciarati knew that and I think it was a large factor of why he wanted Giorno to join our team."
"And half the things we use are hazardous to him," Abbacchio muttered, glancing around a corner before they continued forward. "Regardless, I'm not bloody jealous. It's his smug face and self-righteous attitude I hate. I could still take him in a fight."
There was a creak behind him and he turned, doing a double take when he realized Fugo was no longer following him.
"Fugo?" he hissed, backtracking to look around the corner again.
No Fugo.
"Fugo!" he snapped, louder.
But there was still nothing from his younger team member.
"Shit," Abbacchio swore under his breath and continued quickly back the way they came, hoping to find some answer as to where Fugo had ended up.
It was dark when Fugo came to, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings as a lamp was lit, providing a dull glow.
"He…he smells so good," a voice whined. "Can we drink his blood?"
"He's not the one that Lord Mazzanti said not to touch…" Another voice, deliberating.
Fugo fought to blink away the dizziness that swam through his aching head. His bag was luckily still wrapped across his chest and he fumbled inside of it, before a figure came over and yanked it away.
"He's awake," a voice hissed. A face got close to Fugo, and he could smell the feted odor of old blood wash over him. He had lost his spectacles somewhere along the way, but he didn't need to see clearly to know this was one of the vampires they were looking for.
He grabbed the crucifix on his watch chain and thrust it into the blurry face.
There was a shriek and the figure reeled back.
"Carolina! What happened!"
"Little bastard!" a heeled boot slammed Fugo's hand to the floor and he cried out as he was forced to release the crucifix, leaving it skittering away to places unknown. "We should have tied him up!"
"You do know you have no right to be here?" Fugo snapped. "We were sent by the owners to tell you to leave."
The woman gave a shrill laugh, slamming her foot into Fugo's chest with bruising force. "Oh, but Lord Mazzanti says we can do anything we want to now! After all, who's going to stop us?"
To illustrate, she reached down and picked him up, flinging him into the nearest wall. Fugo's breath was punched from his lungs and his head rattled once again as he slammed into the wall before crumpling back to the ground.
The other vampiress shrieked in shocked delight.
"See that, Mary? We're strong enough to throw an adult man now. Let's have a little drink as a treat. Don't drain him, though—we'll save some for our sisters when they wake up."
Fugo tried to push himself up, mentally locating his bag, but the vampires were on him in an instant, ripping at his clothing to access vulnerable flesh. Memories he tried so hard to suppress flashed through his mind and he cried out, trying to struggle free, but he was slammed back against the wall again, leaving him dazed and helpless as the fangs sank in.
He felt the sharp pain, followed by the sinking pull of rapid blood loss before he was, once again, pulled out of consciousness.
Giorno and Illuso made their way through the kitchens and the servants' quarters, checking all the closets and side rooms along the way.
"So what made you become a hunter, Giorno?" Illuso asked as they searched. "Not exactly the first career choice for those of our ilk."
"I wanted to help people," Giorno said sincerely. "There's a lot of evil in the world, and I wanted the opportunity to take it out."
"An idealist, then," Illuso said with just a hint of derision. "I can see why Bucciarati liked you. Nothing wrong with that, of course, just…don't expect the idealism to last." He sobered slightly. "It's a dirty life, and you end up realizing it's not all black and white. Humans, monsters, we're all the same at the end of the day. It often comes down to who's holding the stake."
"So why do it?" Giorno asked him, genuinely curious.
Illuso gave him a genuine smile. "Because I like my team. All of us are mis-fits in a way, and it's the only place I've ever really felt at home. And getting to work out some ancestral frustrations on targets doesn't hurt either."
Giorno smirked. "I can understand that."
"I take it you're running too?" Illuso asked.
Giorno shrugged. "I wouldn't say running so much as I walked away. I never knew my father—my sire—though I suppose he wouldn't have taken me anyway. My mother and stepfather only ever treated me as a monster. I used to fear Hunters, but then I had someone open my eyes to this world and I realized that they were some of the last people who stood for justice—I wanted that."
"A nice way to look at it, I suppose," Illuso murmured. "Still a little too idealist for me, but—"
He stopped and glanced quickly to the door outside the kitchen where Giorno assumed the pantry was. Illuso held up a hand to Giorno's questioning look.
"Hold on," he said. "Keep an eye out, I'm going to check something."
Giorno waited as Illuso went around the corner, looking around. The house did seem extremely quiet. That being said, the smell of vampires was so strong it was almost overwhelming. Giorno couldn't pick up on just where or how many, but he was sure they were nearby. And it definitely wasn't Illuso. Giorno had purposefully marked his scent upon meeting so he could tell them apart. He really had a feeling they were missing something and he didn't like it. He wished Abbacchio had agreed to look into this a little more before barging in, but obviously he wasn't going to take any arguments.
That was when he heard a gasp and Illuso calling, "Giorno!"
Giorno hurried forward, drawing his sword as he heard a muffled thud.
He skidded to a halt just in front of the pantry Illuso had been checking out, looking around.
He couldn't seem to find the vampire anywhere though. "Illuso?" he hissed, backtracking toward the pantry and pushing the door fully open.
A new smell hit him and he cringed, pressing the back of his sleeve against his nose. He fumbled briefly for his pocket lighter and flicked it on, holding it up to peer into the shadows.
Two bodies hung inside, abnormally pale. Beneath them were buckets catching the blood from their beheaded necks.
The smell of old, coagulating blood made him sick to his stomach—how could anyone drink that? Giorno turned around again, trying to find Illuso, but still didn't see any sign of him.
Something gold glinted on the floor and he bent to pick it up.
It looked to be one of the gold buttons from Illuso's coat. And if that was the case…
Giorno pocketed the button and hurried back the way they had come. He had to find Abbacchio and Fugo and warn them before something else happened.
However, as he made it back into the foyer, he nearly bumped into Abbacchio as the man stormed around the corner.
"Have you see Fugo?" Abbacchio demanded before Giorno could open his mouth.
"I—no, Illuso and I were looking in the kitchen but he disappeared."
Abbacchio froze, eyes widening. "Illuso too?"
"Did something happen to Fugo?" Giorno demanded.
Abbacchio's eyes narrowed at him. "Look, something's going on here. I think it's safe to say we've been noticed. We need to get to the bottom of this before we're picked off too, so come on, why don't you put yourself to use and sniff out those vampires?"
Giorno stared at him, before he put his foot down. "Fugo and Illuso are missing, undoubtedly being held captive by the vampires," Giorno said firmly. "I'm not doing anything until we find where they're being held. I think—"
Abbacchio grabbed the front of his coat and yanked him close, snarling into his face. "I warned you before that you don't give orders here. I want to find them too, but it's not gonna do us any good to get taken by surprise. We need to find the vampires at the source. Now."
"They're likely with the vampires," Giorno protested. "Considering how quickly they disappeared, I think there might be servants' passages within the walls. If we can find out how to get in…"
"We don't have time for that," Abbacchio snapped, shoving him away. "Do whatever the hell you want—you're not going to listen to me anyway. But if one of these fangs kills you, then don't come crying to me about it."
"Very well, I'll do what I can to find them, then," Giorno said, knowing that getting into more of a fight now would only put them all into more danger. He wasn't sure how long Fugo and Illuso had.
"Fine," Abbacchio snarled and spun on his heel, hurrying back into the house.
Giorno ran back to the kitchen and looked around the area where Illuso had disappeared. He checked for trap doors in the floor, then pressed his ear into the wall, listening as he knocked a knuckle against the panels every couple of feet.
His hand then found one spot in the wall where a small waft of air was coming through. Heart quickening, Giorno dug his fingers into the crack and pulled the panel open, revealing a dark passage inside the walls.
Holding his lighter up, he glanced around, seeing that there were spots of red on the ground. Giorno bent to touch it, finding it still wet. Upon bringing it to his nose, he could confirm it was Illuso's blood.
Following the faint sent of his vampire comrade, Giorno made his way further down the passage.
A dim light shown ahead and he made his way toward it cautiously. He could smell Illuso's blood more heavily now so he was sure he had to be here.
The light illuminated the outline of a door and after some searching, Giorno was able to find the latch and get it open.
He slipped inside to find a dimly lit chamber that seemed to be used for storage. Behind several crates, Giorno caught sight of Fugo crouching over Illuso's seemingly unconscious form.
"Fugo!" Giorno called quietly as he hurried forward, relief flooding him to see his teammate alive.
Fugo looked up with shock, swaying a bit. His clothing was disheveled and there was blood staining his collar and right sleeve. "Giorno?! How did you get in here?"
"The door only seems to open from the outside," Giorno explained as he crouched. "Is Illuso…?"
"He's just unconscious," Fugo said and Giorno could see the vampire's eyes already twitching, a bloody welt on the side of his head. "Where's Abbacchio?"
"Hunting," Giorno replied tightly. "We need to get back to him. There's definitely more than one vampire here, we found a full pantry in the kitchen." He narrowed his eyes as he realized there were fang-marks in Fugo's throat. "They fed on you?"
Fugo gritted his teeth with a cringe. "Yes, two of them were here…I passed out and only woke up after they brought Illuso in. Before that all I remember was following Abbacchio then I just felt someone grab me and knock me unconscious." He sighed, sitting back against the crate as he reached for his satchel. "You were right, we should have looked into this more. I don't think that…"
The sound of footsteps came from outside the door and Fugo suddenly grabbed Giorno with a hiss. "Hide. We might be able to surprise them if they don't know you're here."
Giorno nodded and swiftly ducked behind several crates, holding his sword at the ready.
The footsteps hesitated at the door and there was a sharp slap and a squeal. "You didn't close it?"
"I'm sorry, I thought…"
"Never mind, they had better still be in here."
Giorno peeked between two crates and watched as two vampire women entered the room. Both of their dresses were covered in blood and there was a wild look in their eyes, nostrils flaring as they looked hungrily at Fugo.
"Can we…have more blood?" one of the vampiresses asked.
"We've already had our share!" the woman who was obviously in charge said as she strode toward the two and kicked Illuso in the ribs. "And we can't eat the vampire."
"There are still the other two," the other vampire spoke up. "We just have to find them!"
"You know the silver-haired one is saved for Lord Mazzanti—he was very specific."
Giorno furrowed his brow. That sounded oddly personal. He was getting a bad feeling about leaving Abbacchio alone.
"Maybe we can just eat them now and leave the other one for our sisters?" the second vampire pleaded, hands shaking as she stared at Fugo and Illuso.
"I would think twice," Fugo said. "Maybe I allowed you to capture me and feed on me for the sole reason to take you out. We are Hunters, you know. We kill vampires for a living."
Illuso sat up with a groan, rubbing his head. "I'm not sure they know that, Fugo. They're practically babies."
Giorno's eyes widened again at Illuso's words, but as he looked at the two women again, he realized Illuso had been right. They had the jittery bloodlust of a newly turned vampire. More an addict to blood than hungry for it.
"I mean, look at you," Illuso clicked his tongue. "You're covered in blood. Have a little decorum when you eat."
The first woman snarled and stepped forward to grab him by the hair, pulling it out of it's neat club as she wrenched his head back. "How dare you!"
Illuso casually slammed a hand into her chest and the woman was thrown backwards into a pile of crates.
"Carolina!" the other vampire screamed, terror on her face as Fugo and Illuso jumped up and rushed in. Illuso slammed her head into the wall and she fell with a gasp.
Giorno joined them, grabbing Illuso's shoulder.
"Don't kill them!" he snapped.
Fugo spun around incredulously. "What are you talking about?"
"They're freshly turned, aren't they?" he said. "They can still learn to control themselves with the proper care. And look at them—about the age of debutants. Someone must be missing them."
Fugo glanced at the two women moaning on the ground, and looked to Illuso who was staring thoughtfully at Giorno.
"He's right," the vampire said. "There's no reason to kill them. We should be going after the vampire that turned them."
"They also mentioned 'sisters'," Giorno said grimly. "I would bet there are more victims somewhere in this house."
"Bastard's made himself a harem," Illuso growled in disgust. "Who the hell is this 'Lord Mazzanti'? It's not a family I'm familiar with."
"I've never heard of him," Fugo said, rummaging through his bag. "Shit, has anyone seen my spectacles around here?"
"What is our plan of action?" Illuso asked.
Giorno pressed his lips together. "Abbacchio needs to be warned that this vampire is looking for him specifically. Fugo, you're frankly in no shape to be fighting. I will go after Abbacchio if you and Illuso look for the rest of the harem."
"Are you sure?" Fugo asked. "We have no idea how powerful this vampire is."
"Then lend me some of your weapons," Giorno said.
Fugo hesitated but finally handed over the satchel to Giorno after taking several things out for himself. "Be careful with these. The smoke bombs make holy water steam. It would be extremely dangerous for you to breathe."
Giorno nodded and slung the bag over his shoulder.
Illuso crouched beside the two vampiresses as Fugo restrained their hands. Both were coming to groggily.
"Tell me, darlings, where are your sisters?"
"Don't you dare touch them!" the vampire—who Giorno thought was named Carolina—snarled.
Illuso smiled kindly. "I promise we'll do them no harm. We want to get all of you help. So please, will you tell me where they're hiding?"
The two vampiresses looked at each other before the younger one squeaked, "Upstairs!" Carolina glowered at her but she continued. "But Lord Mazzanti won't be happy if you take us. He said that we belong with him now."
Giorno furrowed his brow, but glanced at Fugo. "You're sure you and Illuso can handle this?"
Fugo nodded. "Yes. Go find Abbacchio."
Giorno turned and headed back out of the hidden passage.
Abbacchio crept through the house as silently as possible. There was something about this whole situation that just sat badly with him. He refused to admit that perhaps Giorno had been right and they should have looked into it a little more, but maybe there was some truth to that…
His instincts alerted him to a presence as soon as he stepped into the dining room, though he could see no one at the moment.
Abbacchio walked slowly down the long table, sword held firmly at his side.
A low, mocking chuckle had him instantly spinning around, catching sight of a figure looming in the shadows.
"Well, if it isn't Leone Abbacchio—it's been a while, hasn't it?"