“Did you look at your shadow?” Giovanni asked. Francesca buttered toast fresh from the toaster and handed it to him. He took a bite and chewed, waiting for her answer.
“Of course. My shadow is different from others. It isn’t as solid. Well, that’s not the right way to put it. It’s got little shadows reaching out like arms or something, so my shadow can touch multiple shadows at once.” She reached for the pot of coffee.
Stefano got there first and poured the hot liquid into her mug. Francesca nudged the cream and sugar closer. “Did your mother or father have that same kind of shadow?”
Sasha’s gaze jumped to his face. His voice had been casual, but it was clear they were all waiting for her answer. “Both, as a matter of fact. They were extremely close and doted on Sandlin and me.”
“From what country did your family originate?” Again, Stefano sounded extremely casual. Too much so for someone like Sasha not to understand what he was asking was important.
Sasha sighed. “You know, if you just tell me what shadow blood means, I would understand what you were looking for and just give you the information. I don’t have anything to hide.”
“Shadow blood is a term we made up,” Giovanni said. “We didn’t have anything else to call those who have shadows like ours, so when we were children, we referred to anyone with shadows that had those feeler tubes as someone with shadow blood.”
She nodded. “My grandparents on my father’s side immigrated from Russia to the United States, but his great-grandparents had gone from Sicily to Russia. Of course, our name changed from Spataro to Petrov and then to Provis when my father’s family came here. My mother’s family also came from Sicily, and her great-grandparents changed their name as well. My father said his great-great-grandfather had to change the name because it was too dangerous at that time to keep their original name, Spataro.”
Stefano and Giovanni both sat back in their chairs and regarded her with more care. Clearly, her father had been from a shadow riding family. Of course, the riders had escaped when the Saldis had attempted to wipe out every member, no matter how little blood in their veins; they wanted anyone related to the Ferraros stamped out. Only the riders escaped because they were able to slip into the shadows unseen. Most were gone when the massacre took place, and they took care to save the remaining family members before trying to avenge the deaths of their loved ones.
The mafia had risen to power, nearly taking the place of the government. Any other family who opposed them eventually came under attack. Most relocated. The Spataro family had been riders—at least her great-grandfather had been one. Giovanni leaned toward her. “Did your mother’s family settle in the same region of Russia as your father’s family?”
She shook her head. “No, according to the family history, the family immigrating from Sicily to Russia split up and hid in various regions. Whoever was hunting them would be looking for a concentrated amount of families from Sicily living close to one another. By splitting up, they were able to be safe.”
“How did your parents meet?” Giovanni knew, for his family, for all riders, and especially his mother, Sasha would be considered gold. A treasure, just like Mariko. When they had babies, those children would be strong in the gifts and abilities of a shadow rider. There were so few that all riders were expected to have children in order to always have protection for their families.
“Both were born here in the United States. My father’s family settled in Wyoming. His father liked the open spaces and the life of a cattle rancher. My mother was actually on vacation, and she happened to go into a bar where there was dancing. My father was there and they just hit it off. From what she said, they were inseparable from the moment they met.”
“Did they talk to you about their shadows?”
She shook her head. “Cattle ranching is an all-consuming business. We worked hard, from daylight or before until well after sundown. We grew our own food so there was gardening to do. We hunted for meat and fished for the same reason. My parents were loving and sweet, but they worked harder than any two people I’ve ever seen. At night, my dad would fall asleep in his recliner with Mom sitting on his lap. She’d sometimes talk to us in a hushed voice, but mostly she fell asleep on top of him.”
“Did you meet your cousins? Any aunts or uncles?”
She shook her head. “There weren’t any. As far as I know, my father was an only child, as was his father before him. Same with my mother.”
“Don’t worry too much about that picture of you in the tabloids,” Stefano said. “We’ll get to the bottom of it and find out who sold it.”
“I don’t really think it matters, do you?” she asked. “It’s out there. There’s no getting it back. Everyone’s got a good look at what’s under my blouse.”
“You’re beautiful,” Giovanni said. “So, fuck them.”
She flashed him an appreciative smile. It was brief and faded fast. “I guess Darby got his way in the long run.” She shrugged. “When I go to work tonight, is West going to be upset with me and relegate me to the bottom tier? He told me the other night if I took the top and did well, he’d keep me there. Nancy wants to drop to part-time. If I can get the top tier, I can make enough money to pay for Sandlin’s therapy in that place without working at the deli. I love the job there, because I’m beginning to know the neighborhood people, but I don’t get to see Sandlin as often as he needs me to.”
Giovanni exchanged another long look with his brother. Neither thought it was safe for Sasha to work at either job. The news of their engagement was out and that set her up as a target for any kidnapper bent on making money, not to mention the paparazzi. There was no way to tell someone until they experienced the crazy way they had to live in order to guard their privacy.
“Sasha”—Giovanni kept his voice as gentle as possible—“right now, it will be very difficult for you to work without constant harassment.”
“I can live with harassment, but Sandlin can’t live outside that facility.” She didn’t look at him but continued to eat.
“It isn’t safe,” Stefano said. When she continued to chew in silence, he sighed. “Look at me, Sasha.” It didn’t matter that his tone was pitched low, it was a clear order and no one disobeyed Stefano. When her eyes met his, he continued, “We’ll cover the cost of your brother’s facility because this wasn’t your fault. Our security didn’t get to you in time to stop what Darby did. We’re responsible for not collecting all the cameras. Aaron Anderson is a friend of ours. We made the mistake of not looking at those at his table when we should have. Stop shaking your head and listen to me.”
“I’m not allowing someone else to pay for my brother’s care.”
Giovanni could hear the stubbornness in her voice. Her sapphire eyes practically flashed with fire. He leaned into her, unable to keep the grin off his face. “Obstinate little woman. Are you insane? Stop thinking with your heart, baby. Of course, you want to take care of him yourself. I completely understand that, but—”
“You can argue all you want to, Giovanni,” Sasha said, “but it won’t do you any good. If I don’t show up for work, people will think that stupid picture sent me running and hiding. Most everyone else will think I’m with you because of your money. I happen to know, because I was told, that some of the waitresses are out to snag one of you. Can you imagine what they’re going to think—”
“Do you think I give a damn what they think?” Giovanni snapped. “The point is to make certain you’re safe. People are going to run their mouths no matter what.”
She smirked and picked up her coffee cup. “Exactly.”
“I can see I might want to strangle you a few dozen times a day.”
“Probably. I know I’m going to feel that way about you.” She sounded complacent. “What exactly are we going to do about this engagement? I know you had to tell them you were family at the Center in order to get Sandlin some help, but now it’s plastered all over the world in every news outlet.”
“We
’ll have to put the engagement ring on your finger,” Giovanni said. He hadn’t won the battle about her job, and he clearly wasn’t going to, but he gave her his don’t-mess-with-me-on-this-one voice. She took the hint, glanced around the table, shrugged and subsided.
He didn’t know if she figured she would argue with him later when they were alone, or if she could tell by his face it wasn’t up for discussion—and it wasn’t. He wanted to make that very clear. He believed in marriage. Having babies. Sandlin was his family as well as hers. That meant he was just as responsible. They’d have that discussion again. So yeah, he’d concede on the work argument and put about a hundred bodyguards on her—he’d be there as well. That way, she could win that battle and give him the important one, because, first things first. Get the ring on her finger and her promise. They’d work out the rest of it later.
“You’re on the schedule tonight?” Francesca asked.
Sasha nodded. “Luckily my other uniform is in my locker at work. I know I have to go back to my apartment, sooner or later, but not yet.” She gave a little shudder. “Knowing that man was in there, touching my things, using my toothbrush and shower, the things he did in my bedroom, I don’t particularly want to be there anymore.”
“Fortunately, we’ve already worked that out,” Giovanni stated.
She looked at him with her eyebrow raised, but she didn’t protest.
CHAPTER TEN
Stefano walked into the club, Francesca on his arm. Taviano and Vittorio followed close behind, Emme in between her two brothers. Ricco and Mariko followed them with Emilio and Enzo bringing up the rear. Their New York cousins were in town and were already at the club, waiting with Giovanni at their reserved table. A celebration was in order, although Giovanni’s fiancée had insisted she was working. Even so, the family came out to celebrate, the way they did most things—together.
Flashes went off all around them. Of course, the paparazzi were there—with the exception of Sid Larsen and Chesney Reynolds. They had been relegated to staying outside the club and hoping for a good shot of the newly engaged couple. The family made it very clear that photographers who cooperated with Ferraro policy were welcome. In fact, Giovanni had promised them a shot of the ring, a photograph that would be worth a tremendous amount.
The family made their way up to their table where Giovanni waited with all three cousins. Salvatore, Lucca and Geno laughed with Giovanni, clearly giving him a very bad time. Giovanni glanced up as they approached the table and he stood, as did his cousins. Francesca smiled at him as he leaned over to kiss her cheek and then Mariko’s. Mariko was new to the family and she wasn’t used to their affectionate way with one another, but she smiled and returned the kiss to his cheek.
He caught Emme around the waist and hugged her. “I got the ring on her finger, Emme, but it wasn’t easy.”
“How’d you manage? Stefano said she was giving you trouble.”
He grinned, elated now that he knew his ring was on Sasha’s finger. He wished it was a size too small so she couldn’t get it off even if she wanted to—which he was sure she did. “I wrestled her to the floor, sat on her and put it on her finger. It was the only way.”
He knew they thought he was joking, but he’d done exactly that. He’d taken her to his home, seduced her, managing to get her naked in under seven minutes, and then, when she was too sated and drowsy after their lovemaking, he slid the ring on her finger. It was a special ring, made by his famous cousin, Damian Ferraro. Out of New York, Damian made custom jewelry for those who could afford his special talents. For the shadow riders, he used a special alloy that could move through the shadows with them.
Each rider went to him in person, was interviewed and then the ring made up. The interview consisted mainly of conversation and their cousin just asking a few questions. It was almost impersonal, but all of them knew he had a gift. He knew things. He read people. He was a seer in the sense that he “saw” inside each person who came to him.
Damian didn’t take suggestions. The ring was made in advance of the rider ever finding his woman. Somehow, he always chose the exact ring—the one that was perfect. Giovanni had been shocked when he’d gotten the ring from Damian. The engagement ring had no gemstones, which meant it was possible he would find a rider. The alloy could withstand the pull of the shadows, but the gemstones could not. If his partner wasn’t a rider, then she was a woman capable of going into the shadows. That, at least, meant he could keep her safe.
The ring was a work of art, just as everything Damian made was. On Sasha’s finger, it looked beautiful, as if made just for her—which, technically, it had been. He should have cautioned his cousin to smear superglue on the inside of it.
“She really is working?” Emme asked.
He pulled out a chair for her. “Stubborn as all get-out,” he responded and seated himself beside her so they could talk above the pounding music. “Even Stefano talked to her and got nowhere. He’d pull out his hair if Sasha was his woman.”
“She’ll need to be stubborn if she’s going to really marry you,” Emme stated. She grinned at him, obviously happy for him. “Stefano and Francesca really like her. That’s saying a lot.” She glanced over to the table of men a few feet from the stairs. “I see you have bodyguards everywhere.”
“Let’s hope she isn’t as adept at spotting them as you are. I’ve got two tables on this tier and one on the one below us. Four roving patrols and more scattered throughout the club. We did go over the rules, and she knows how to signal for security. She did ask that they wait for the signal.”
Emme rolled her eyes. “Does she know you yet?”
“She does. She laid down the law to me. When I smiled at her she shook her head and stomped away.”
That made Emmanuelle laugh. “Do you really think this stalker is going to come tonight?”
“Don’t you?” Giovanni took a long, slow look around the club. “He’s here. Where else would he be? He can’t get to her anywhere else. He wants contact with her and he’ll make it, too. I’m betting on it.”
“Look who else showed up tonight,” Emmanuelle said and gestured to the large party moving up the stairs to the VIP section.
Giovanni clenched his teeth to keep from swearing aloud. Aaron Anderson. The man was a walking menace. Women fell all over him, he was that good-looking. He was charming as well. He always had an entourage with him and this time was no different. He recognized several of the men moving up the stairs. As usual, they were all mixed martial arts fighters, and good ones. Aaron was friends with most of the fighters.
“You wouldn’t consider sacrificing yourself and flirting your little ass off, would you?” he asked his sister. “He’s always had a thing for you.”
“He has not.”
“Emmanuelle, every man has a thing for you. You just don’t see it. Or you choose not to. At least with everyone but Val Saldi.” He glanced at Stefano and lowered his voice even more, turning his head so there was no chance that his brother could pick up what they were saying. “If you care to share what happened between you two, I’m a good listener. I know he matters to you. If he matters to you, he matters to me. He did come through for our family.”
Emmanuelle’s mask slipped, just for a minute, and he glimpsed pain there. “It’s always been him. You know that. Since I was sixteen years old. I thought I’d outgrow it, but apparently, that’s not going to happen.” She sighed. “He isn’t exactly pining away for me the way I am for him. In any case, we both know it would never work between our two families so there’s no point in talking about it.”
“Of course there is. If you’re hurting …” He wanted to wrap his sister up and hold her close to him. He detested that she was in pain. He knew it wasn’t Val’s fault, but he still would like to punch him.
“I’m good. I’m just working through accepting it. As long as I don’t have to see him with other women or read about it somewhere, I’ll be good.”
He touched her face gently. “You know I
’m really sorry, bella. If I could fix it for you, I would.” He’d do anything for her. Any of her brothers would—including Stefano. Especially Stefano.
She turned to watch Aaron seat himself two tables away, in Sasha’s section. “He is good-looking. Maybe I’ll ask him to dance.”
Now that she said it, perversely, Giovanni wasn’t too certain he wanted his sister to have anything to do with the man. He liked Aaron and didn’t want Emme breaking his heart—which she would. She was beautiful, intelligent and sweet. It would be impossible not to fall in love with her, but Emmanuelle, like the rest of them, had a duty to their family. She had to marry a rider—or a man capable of producing children who could be riders.
“Eloisa is pushing me to meet some of the riders from other countries.” Emmanuelle made a face. “I think she wants to hold a ball. Like I’m some kind of prize.” A little shiver of revulsion crept through her body. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter, does it? It’s not as if Prince Charming is going to show up and rescue me from the evil dragon.”
“It happened for me. Not Prince Charming, but definitely the Princess.” Giovanni’s gaze sought out his woman. She was smiling and nodding as she served drinks to the table farthest away from the Ferraro table. Her smile faded when she put down drinks at the next one. She shook her head twice and stepped back as she collected her tip.
Drago and Demetrio made as if to stand and then settled back in their seats as Sasha moved away from the table and went to the bodyguards’ table. She took their orders with that same smile plastered on her face—the one he knew didn’t mean a thing. She was going to Aaron’s table next, and he found his belly tightening.
“She can’t run away. Half the room is guarding her.”
His sister’s soft laughter made him aware he was also clenching his fists. He didn’t like that he could be jealous and possessive. Sasha was a woman of her word. There was no mistaking that. Those traits he had, and they were far stronger than he’d like, were not attractive ones in his opinion. He was even slightly ashamed of them. Aaron was his friend and would respect the engagement ring on her finger. There was a code of honor between men. That ring was the line one didn’t cross. He wasn’t going to embarrass Sasha or himself by being jealous.
Shadow Keeper Page 19
