by James, Delta
“I think the pack is far more interested in our alpha finding his and bringing her home.”
“I know none of you believe me,” said Marco softly, “but she’s out there. I’ve seen her.” He shook his head and chuckled. “She is just being difficult and hiding from me. But never doubt... she will be mine.”
Marco left the room with Luca looking after him. No one in the pack doubted that she existed or that whoever this blonde beauty was, she had no idea what her future held.
Marco heard the motorcycle as it pulled up in front of the villa. He rushed down the steps to embrace his good friend and former comrade.
“Welcome! Welcome!”
Griffin Owen smiled at his friend. “It’s good to be here, Marco. Thanks for taking me in.”
“You know you are always welcome. Juliana has made your usual room ready. It is yours for as long as you like. Are you hungry? Lunch is almost ready.”
Griffin laughed. “Marco, you always know how to make me feel welcome. Let me take my things upstairs and take a quick shower to wash the road off and I will happily dig into whatever is being served. I’m starving.”
Marco watched Griffin head up the stairs. His friend couldn’t fool him. Griffin may have made his voice light and airy but there had been a darkness behind his eyes. If he hadn’t yet left Special Forces, Marco meant to urge him to do so. There was only so much a man’s soul could take before it would be irrevocably damaged. If Griffin was done, then Marco meant to urge him to stay—here at the villa and if not, perhaps the new vineyard outside of Florence.
Lunch was a lively affair at the DeMedici villa. Marco knew that the sound of happy voices and lots of wonderful food would go a long way to helping the Welsh wolf find his way back to the light.
Griffin joined them within short order.
“God, I’d forgotten what a celebration every meal is with your pack. Don’t get me wrong, Calon Onest is home and everyone is lovely, but they’re...” Griffin hesitated, looking for the right word.
“Quiet?” supplied Marco. “Dull? Blasé food?”
Griffin started to laugh. “While accurate, that was not what I was thinking.”
“But of course not. You are far too kind.”
They dug into a delectable meal and enjoyed themselves. Marco asked that the chef be brought out where he was met with a round of applause from his enthusiastic pack.
Griffin sipped one of the wines that had been served. “This is amazing. I swear your wine gets better and better.”
“It does,” said Marco, “because of Luca here. Not only is he a most excellent omega, but he is a vintner of high regard. Speaking of which, how does a quick trip to Florence sound? Luca has found a small vineyard he wants us to purchase. Not only do they have grapes for wine and balsamic vinegar, but he tells me they also have olive trees.”
“I don’t think I’ve been to Florence in years. I think that sounds like an excellent place to start my retirement.”
Marco smiled at him. “So you have finally walked away?”
“I didn’t have a pack to come home to.”
“You did, but chose not to claim it. Ioan would have stepped aside. You know that.”
“I do. But he’s the right man for Calon Onest. While Wales will always be home, I just don’t see myself settling there.”
“Home, my friend,” said Marco, “is where you bed your woman on a regular basis and see your children born and raised.”
“Really?” responded Griffin with a grin. “Is this your way of telling me you finally found your mysterious blonde-haired mate?”
“Alas, no. She still hides from me, but she is close. I can feel her.”
“Well, perhaps we’ll find her in Florence.”
“She’s not Italian.”
“Neither am I,” teased Griffin, “but apparently I’m going to be in Florence tomorrow.”
Marco laughed. “Perhaps. If so, if I see her before Luca’s meeting either you or he will need to conclude the negotiations. I will be preoccupied with my mate.”
Griffin smiled at his friend. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that when Marco finally found his fated mate, he would move heaven and earth to claim her.
Chapter Four
Catherine woke to the smell of espresso wafting under her door. She wasn’t sure whether to praise Seraphina or damn her. The massive hangover she had from the night before said the latter, but the espresso smelled divine and she knew the biscotti that would accompany it would be homemade. As there was nothing to be done about the hangover, and other than introducing her to an amazing wine bottled about six hours away, Catherine had to admit that the hangover was just as much her fault as Seraphina’s.
She cringed as her feet hit the floor. They hurt, but then so did everything else... including her hair. Catherine opened the door and bent down to pick up the tray. She placed it on the bed and picked up the note from Sera.
In this order:
Chug the first bottle of water
Eat the banana
Open the second bottle of water and take the pain pills—over the counter!
Dunk your biscotti in the espresso and eat it
Finish the biscotti
Drink the rest of the second bottle of water
Take a hot shower—your room does have a steam shower
Try to take a nap
When you wake again, come join me and we’ll have a nice light breakfast.
Sera
Catherine did as instructed and felt much better the second time she opened her eyes about two hours later. She threw on a pair of leggings and a poet blouse. She pulled back and braided her hair, added earrings she’d purchased the day before, and slipped her feet into another pair of comfortable sandals.
Sera greeted her. “Oh, you look much than I thought you might.”
“For the record, I’m taking that remedy home with me. I feel so much better than when I first got up.”
“Well, we should both have had a bottle of water, a banana, and some pain pills before we went to sleep, but that’s life. Take lots of water with you today and a banana or two. By this evening, you’ll be feeling good again.”
Catherine smiled. “Thanks for last night. Hangover notwithstanding, I had a great time. But don’t think I didn’t notice that I didn’t see a bill. So tonight, pick a place for dinner and I’m buying. Pick a nice place that locals like.”
“I know just the place, Adagio Firenze. Why don’t I meet you there? Say 6:30 or so? That way we can avoid the crowd.”
Catherine picked up the offered water and fruit and stuffed them in her bag along with the address for the restaurant. “It’s a date!”
* * *
Griffin trotted down the stairs and entered the dining room where he was greeted like family. Marco watched his friend closely. He could tell that even the half day Griffin had been here had started him back toward life. This place, his people had a kind of magic. The DeMedici were reputed to have been founded when a female shifter had become the mistress of one of Italy’s most powerful families. Successive generations had both separated themselves from the other and several DeMedici alphas had found their fated mates among the Romany. Marco had never been sure if the stories were true, but he did know his people were warm and protective of those they called pack and those they called friend. In some ways, Griffin was both. Marco worried that Griffin might forever deny himself his own pack.
“Good morning,” said Griffin. “I can’t remember the last time I slept so well. Dreamless and restorative. Thank you again for inviting me. Are we still on for Florence?”
Marco laughed. “We are indeed. I thought about taking one of the chauffeured cars, but then decided with the beautiful weather, we really should take one of the sports cars with the top down.”
“You know me, I always opt for wind in my face.”
Marco excused himself to take care of a few things to be handled while he was gone. His weekend bag was already next to the door.
/> Griffin went out for a short walk and then packed for the unexpected trip.
Once they were ready, they walked out and Griffin let out a low, appreciative whistle.
Parked and ready to go was a red 1929 Alfa Romeo roadster. Griffin shook his head. The DeMedici alphas had been collecting classic sports cars for as long as sports cars had existed.
“Now, that’s a ride,” he said.
“I know. She takes a bit of tinkering and can be temperamental, but she is my favorite.”
“Were you describing the car or your fated mate?” Griffin teased.
Marco thought for a moment. “Both.”
They laughed, stowed their bags, slid into the beautiful car, and headed for Florence.
Marco just drove. He knew when Griffin was ready to talk, he would. If Griffin said nothing on the drive to Florence, Marco planned to bring up the rumors either tonight at dinner or on the way back home.
“You seemed relieved that I’d finally turned in my papers,” started Griffin.
“I was. How are you feeling about it?”
“Surprisingly good, and yet adrift. I knew you were right the last time we talked, but now I’m just sitting here thinking now what?”
“Whatever you want, my friend. This new vineyard will need a general manager to be on site. If you want, you are welcome to stay and of course you are always welcome at the villa. I know several of my females would love to have a chance to entice you.”
Griffin laughed. “I fear they’d be disappointed.”
“That is not what I recall hearing from the several women we shared.”
Marco was glad when Griffin laughed again. The sound was more well-rounded than when last they had spoken.
“Perhaps. But you and I both know that enjoying the charms of a female pack member when your intentions aren’t serious is not good form.”
“And you Welsh are all about proper form... except for as I recall a certain little beauty in Germany.”
They both laughed at the shared memory. The girl had gotten their names mixed up and when she ended up in Griffin’s bed thinking he was Marco, Griffin hadn’t corrected her assumption.
“Well, you have to admit she was rather luscious. Oh, God, let’s promise never to tell your mate about that.”
“What about yours?”
“I’m not sure there will ever be one,” said Griffin in a voice full of regret.
“Of course there will. Your fated mate is out there. She’s just hiding better than mine. At least I know mine’s a blonde.”
“Well, that’s good,” Griffin said, trying to push the sadness away. “You’ve always had a penchant for blondes.”
“And that is also information you can keep to yourself,” laughed the Italian alpha.
“You really believe the woman in your dreams is out there just waiting for you to find? After all we’ve seen and been through?”
“I know she is. It is because of what we have experienced that I have to believe. It was she who got me through my darkest nights. It was her face I saw when they tortured me and left me to die before you got to me. My tesoro saved me. I know you don’t believe that. But I could see her. I could feel her stroke my face willing me to live.”
Griffin stared at his friend. “I truly envy you, Marco. I can’t wait to meet this woman. What an amazing mistress she will be for your pack.”
Marco nodded. “So, do not give up. Your woman is out there. I just know it. If you do not believe, then I shall have to believe enough for the both of us.”
They drove on in companionable silence for another hour before Griffin finally spoke again.
“Ioan and I have heard rumors...” he started.
“About the packs to the East?”
“Yes. The Ruling Council in Britain is opting to believe it’s just the normal saber rattling.”
“As is the one here in Europe. But we too are hearing the same rumors and there are occasional stories about female tourists disappearing and never being heard from again or found. Too many for me to discount. And the worst of it is, there are numerous women, mostly tourists, who have disappeared out of Italy—usually Rome, Milan, and Florence.”
“That is troubling, but makes sense. All three would be easy ports of call to use. I mean to take you up on your offer and allow myself some time to heal without Bethan fretting...”
“Your sister loves you...”
“As does yours. Has she forgiven you yet for allowing that Irish wolf to force her to run?” said Griffin, smiling.
“She has.” Marco laughed, his eyes shining at the thought of his beloved baby sister. “Mainly I think because she has no time to be angry with me. Aidan wasted no time in putting a baby in her belly after he claimed her and she has another on the way. And he dotes on her as does his pack.”
Griffin laughed. “And your brothers?”
Marco accepted that Griffin was not yet ready to pursue the disturbing rumors but felt that as he had brought them up they would be able to talk it through.
“Stefano is mated to the daughter of the alpha in Crete and very happy. He will most likely be their next alpha. Tony is happy being beta of the pack in Rome. I think he was disappointed to find that when you are having to discipline women with whom you would never mate there is no sexual component.”
Both men laughed.
“But he says now he may have found his mate. He just needs to convince her of it.”
Griffin groaned. “Why do the good ones always need convincing?”
“Because they are the ones with spirit and do not lightly give up their independent ways. But that makes their surrender and their acceptance of your authority all the sweeter.”
“So, do you think this blonde mate of yours is going to be difficult?”
Marco let out a robust laugh. “What do you mean, going to be? She has been keeping herself hidden from me for a long time. I have yet to decide whether I’ll punish her for that behavior before or after I’ve spent several nights in our bed availing myself of her charms.”
Griffin laughed. “Oh, now that, I’m going to tell her.”
“By the time you get to speak to her, she will be well aware of where I’ve spent my time.”
Griffin sobered. “Marco, we need to find out if what we think is going on is in fact going on.”
“I agree. As you are not true pack with anyone but are attached unofficially to two powerful packs, I wondered if you might go on a fact-finding mission. But only when you have healed. You need to give yourself some time to distance yourself from Special Forces. Spend time here with us and then go visit your sister.”
“What do you think the Ruling Councils will do if I find evidence that we’re right?”
“Nothing. They are pack of foolish old wolves and will not risk what they have. If we are right and there are women you can help, bring them to me. I will ensure they are safe and will give them time to heal.”
Griffin smiled. “Your home and your pack are good for that. I can already feel my soul starting to mend.”
“I’m glad. You will always have a place with us... always.”
Chapter Five
Sera was already at the table when Catherine arrived loaded down with packages and a marvelous red cloak thrown over her arm.
It had been a fruitful day. Not only had she found many shops with wonderful things to purchase, but some amazing small galleries with new and emerging artists. She had also found a shop that remembered her sister even after all these months. It seemed Shannon had left something with them to be altered and never returned. They had found it odd that when they tracked her back to the hotel in which she’d told them she was staying, the hotel had no record of her ever having been there.
“I thought you were going to look at galleries?” Sera asked, her eyes glinting with humor.
“Me too... but that Ponte Vecchio is a dangerous place and deadly to one’s credit card.”
“That it is. I stay away from the place. Way too many
talented artisans.”
Catherine picked up the menu and accepted the glass of wine Sera had ordered for her. “Seriously?” she said, eyeing first the wine and then Sera.
“Hair of the dog.”
Catherine giggled. “Ooh, the same vintner. Is this wine available in the States? I think it may be the best wine I’ve ever had.”
“It’s very exclusive and I don’t think widely distributed. They say the land has been in the family for over a thousand years and that the artwork in the villa itself is stunning—hand-painted murals, centuries-old tapestries and the like.”
“Do they do tours?”
“No. The DeMedici keep to themselves for the most part. Although the head of the family, Marco is well known in Florence and is a patron of the arts here.”
“DeMedici?”
“Yes, the De alludes to the story that they are the bastard side of the Medici family.”
“How interesting,” said Catherine as she perused the menu. “So what’s good?”
“Absolutely everything. I’ve never had anything I didn’t think was amazing. And their presentations are downright sexy.”
Catherine giggled. She then felt a chill run over her and realized that goosebumps had sprung up all over her arms. She thought it odd as the restaurant wasn’t that chilly. She couldn’t shake the chill so drew the red cloak over her shoulders, flipping her French braid to the outside of the cloak.
“Oooh,” said Sera, “and speaking of sexy... look what just walked through the door.”
Catherine turned to look and saw two of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. Both were tall and dark. One had more the build of a thoroughbred or Arabian racehorse, while the other was more powerfully built more along the lines of a quarter horse or warmblood. Both had an air of confidence about them that was unmistakable and very alluring.
“God, please tell me they aren’t gay,” whispered Catherine, turning her back on them.
“Hardly. The one on the right—the bigger one—is none other than Marco DeMedici himself. Not sure who the other one is.”
Catherine turned to look again more closely at Marco and gasped.
