by Ashlyn Chase
Noah recoiled as if he’d been slapped. He didn’t have a chance to do anything about it, since Dante stormed off, slamming the door. Hopefully, twenty-four hours on his own would help him calm down and see things logically.
Noah groaned. Who was he kidding? Dante was the emotional one—he saw with his heart. He admired the fact that his brother was in touch with that side of himself, but also found it frustrating as hell. When Dante didn’t want to see something, he was capable of ignoring reality.
Maybe he was right this time. Maybe they were getting a little too close for comfort, and it was time to find their own places. The thought saddened him.
As Noah put his leftovers in the fridge, he thought about that alchemy formula. He almost had it all worked out. He was about to substitute the more volatile ingredient with a benign one, but hadn’t replaced it before Dante touched something and set it off. Next time would be different.
The neighbors had just moved out. With his and Dante’s paranormal hearing, they’d discovered the people thought they might be cooking meth and that’s what led to the explosion. If Dante left, he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone messing with his process. Before someone else moved in, he should give that experiment another try—without Dante’s dubious help. But that would mean no safety backup either. His whole family was close. Anyone would stick out their necks for one of their own. It was the same with the fire service. Maybe that’s why he and Dante hadn’t recognized that getting mixed up in each other’s love lives was a problem.
Noah pushed those thoughts aside and focused instead on whatever Kizzy was going through.
He’d heard bits and pieces of her conversation with her father after Ruth left. Mostly work related. He didn’t hear any more about Kizzy’s feelings for him, but he didn’t expect her to discuss that in depth with her father. He would have liked more than a mere mention—or maybe not. The elder Dr. Samuels seemed to have his mind made up. Noah just wished he knew why.
The only thing he really got out of eavesdropping on the three of them was that their father was definitely in charge. He would have to win over her old man. If the guy knew Noah could take care of his little girl, that would go a long way.
And that meant he needed money. If that’s what was really motivating her father’s disapproval, he could have an unlimited supply with alchemy gold. He’d try the procedure with iron next time. All that lead exposure made him nervous. He could get loads of shavings at the ironworks. He’d go right there after his shift. Chances were Dante would be spending every spare minute with Mallory, but he hoped they’d have a chance to talk at some point.
He didn’t dislike Mallory. Who could? She seemed like a nice enough girl, if you didn’t know she shape-shifted into a monkey at inopportune times and couldn’t tell the dead from the living…
Chapter 8
The group descended from Nazi war criminals was meeting in secret. Observing the developer from a distance, the failure of their spell and continued major development in the area was infuriating them.
For this group, the forest had been a safe haven. Their parents and grandparents had fully indoctrinated them with the message of the SS. They believed at some point they would rise again. They would purify their race and—with the secrets contained in the occult books—they would become gods.
If tourists invaded the area, it would only be a matter of time before members of the entity were discovered. If anyone realized what their mission was before they obtained the other two books, they wouldn’t stop until there was no chance to realize their destiny.
“I don’t know why he hasn’t left,” the commandant groused. “His child must be suffering. Maybe he just doesn’t care about her.”
Another member frowned. “I cannot imagine a man who could avoid our curse. Who would be so callous to his children—besides maybe us, if sacrifice were absolutely necessary? He must be a monster. He must be stopped.”
The group glanced at each other and spoke among themselves quietly.
“This developer is becoming more than a nuisance,” the commandant said.
His second-in-command nodded. “I wish I could feed him to the crocodiles.”
“My trusted advisor and grandson will find the other books, and then the interlopers won’t matter. We will renew our commitment to world—no, universe—domination.”
“Have they reported any progress on their mission?”
“Apparently, they tracked one book to a neighborhood just outside the city. They cannot pinpoint its location unless it’s in use.”
“What does that mean? Is one of the books in use and the other not?”
“I believe the books are in the hands of someone who knows nothing about how to use them.”
“Or perhaps the books are not together. If one party has one book, and a totally separate party has the other book, they cannot be very useful. The ingredients were put in one book and the words of the spells were put in the other.”
“Yes. And we need them all. All we have is the index and some bits and pieces the elders remembered before they died. We know what the contents of all three books can do. We need those other books!”
“I was thinking about the code. I believe the page numbers refer to the words that go with the correct ingredients, and that is only known to us. If they guess incorrectly and put the wrong pages together, they will either get nothing—”
“Or get the surprise of their lives.” The second-in-command laughed out loud.
“Even that would be helpful, as long as the books aren’t destroyed. If they use the books at all, we can find them.”
“Are you sure they can’t be tracked down unless the books are being used, Commandant?” one of the younger members asked. “How did we find the area they are in?”
“And how do we know both books are in the same area if we’ve only sensed one in use?” asked another.
“We did nothing. I traced the books with a special locator spell,” the second-in-command said and rolled his eyes. “It is a spell only an occult master can perform. I was able to narrow down the location significantly before sending the commandant’s advisor and grandson there. I wouldn’t send them on a futile errand.”
“Of course not. Forgive me,” the young man said.
“So… Have they reported in?” the other young man asked.
“They have. As I mentioned before, one of the books has been used, and they have tracked it to a neighborhood. The exact home is eluding them. How would I know that if they hadn’t checked in?”
The doubter seemed satisfied for the moment, although the commandant was hoping their agents would have made better progress by now.
“Perhaps you can help them with another locator spell?” someone else suggested.
The commandant snorted. “If that were possible, don’t you think I would have instructed one of my SS to do so?”
“Of course, Commandant. I apologize. It’s just very frustrating to watch what’s going on around us, knowing our ultimate mission could be in jeopardy.”
“We are doing everything we can.”
He didn’t like being questioned or having demands put upon him. It was the price of leadership, and he would not give up his seat of power, but the uncertainty was stressful.
“Why are you all sitting around?” he demanded.
The other members jumped to their feet and scattered.
Power felt good. No, power felt wunderbar. He couldn’t wait to become a god!
* * *
Sunday dinner at the Fierros’ was always a big deal. But this was Luca’s graduation day! So many people would be gathered around the huge dining room table that two leaves had to be inserted to accommodate everyone. Their entertaining space had become so cramped, Antonio had finally taken down the wall between the living and dining rooms.
Mrs. Fierro was in the kitchen—correct
ion: two of the Mrs. Fierros. Misty was helping Gabriella cook. Kristine had to beg off because her mother was in labor. Being present at the birth of her little brother or sister was all she’d been talking about for months.
“I hear Dante is bringing someone today,” Misty said.
Gabriella smiled broadly. “Yes. He has a new girlfriend. He said to set another place for a young woman named Mallory. Apparently, he’s known her since high school.”
“Mallory? Not Mallory Summers.”
“Yes, I think that was her name. Why? Do you know her?”
“Yeah. I think everyone we went to school with knew Mallory, or at least knew of her. She was homecoming queen and prom queen one year. And she was nice. Not stuck up like a lot of the popular girls.”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Gabriella said.
The sound of the front door opening and greetings from the living room reached Gabriella’s human ears. A paranormal would have heard them coming up the steps.
Gabriella wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. “Can you take over for me here, Misty dear? I need to say hello and meet Dante’s young lady.”
“Of course. I’ll stir the sauce. Don’t worry.”
Gabriella strode to the living room and was struck by the beautiful blonde standing beside her son Dante, gazing at him adoringly. Nothing could have made Gabriella happier than to have that look be her first impression of Dante’s girl.
Dante ignored all the men in the living room and strolled over to his mother, holding the girl’s hand. “Ma, I’d like you to meet Mallory Summers. Mallory, this is my mother, Gabriella.” He dropped her hand but stayed close.
Mallory shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Gabriella.”
The girl’s blue gaze met her own without blinking, and Gabriella was relieved that the young woman seemed sincere. She could read people well and spot a phony a mile away.
“I’m delighted to meet you too, dear! Usually, I have to tell people to call me Gabriella after they call me Mrs. Fierro a couple of times. I’m glad you felt comfortable using my first name. We’re very informal around here.”
“Yes. Dante said you were.”
Misty called out from the kitchen, “Gabriella, is the oven supposed to smoke like this?”
Everyone in the room snapped to attention. With so many firefighters in the family, you couldn’t say the word smoke without several ears perking up.
Antonio was first into the kitchen, with Gabriella right behind him. Following her were Miguel, Jayce, and Luca. Misty opened the oven door, and a billowing cloud of smoke poured out.
Gabriella spotted last night’s Pyrex baking dish with blackening Alfredo sauce. “Oh my goodness. How did that dish get in there?”
Luca grimaced. “Um…you know how you asked me to clean up the kitchen last night, Ma?”
Gabriella grabbed her oven mitts and scowled at her youngest son. “Yes. I do remember. And I remember you saying you would.”
“Well, the game was about to start,” he admitted sheepishly. “I just put the leftovers in the fridge and stuck the dish back in the oven so that the kitchen would look clean, but I’d planned to get to it later.”
“And you forgot until I preheated the oven,” Gabriella said as she extracted the burnt baking dish, still smoking. She set it on the counter and opened the back window to air out the room.
“Sorry, Mom,” Luca said.
She sighed. “Well, be careful when you’re living on your own. I don’t want one of your brothers to have to respond to a fire in your apartment building.”
“Jeez, Mom. I’m not ten. You don’t have to worry about me setting my apartment on fire.”
“You’re getting your own apartment?” Dante asked.
“Yeah. After graduation from the police academy.” Then with an embarrassed grin, he added, “Or when Mom and Dad kick me out, whichever comes first.”
Gabriella almost teared up. This was her youngest son, her baby, about to graduate from college with a degree in criminal justice. How could all of her sons be so grown-up now? Soon, her husband would be bugging her to move to a warmer climate again.
She wanted to wait until all her sons were happily married before moving so far away, and Antonio had been patient. Well, as patient as an impatient man could be. But now she didn’t want to move at all. They had a grandson, and hopefully more would come along. What if anyone needed her to babysit? She couldn’t do it from the Caribbean.
She suddenly noticed her kitchen was full of faces she loved: Antonio, Jayce, Miguel, Sandra, Misty, Gabe, holding six-month-old Tony, and twenty-one-year-old Luca, even if she was a little miffed with him at the moment.
The only two she couldn’t see were Mallory and Dante. Unless she missed her guess, they were probably still in the living room, stealing kisses. The chemistry between them was obvious. She’d bet money another wedding would take place before long. What beautiful babies those two could make!
When the oven had stopped smoking, she placed the huge casserole dish of lasagna in it. She could tell by smell when something was done, but just to be on the safe side, she set the kitchen timer for sixty minutes.
“Gabriella, why don’t you go sit down and get to know Dante’s new friend,” Sandra said. “Misty and I can finish up here.”
Misty had the salad halfway prepared. The French bread was on the counter.
“I guess there’s no reason not to. Thank you, darling. Maybe I will. If you could slice the bread and get it ready to warm in tin foil… You just mix together garlic butter and a little salt—”
Sandra chuckled. “I’ve seen you do it a hundred times. I can handle it.”
Maybe Gabriella wasn’t as essential to this family as she had previously thought. “All right.” She removed her apron and joined the others who had traipsed back into the dining room. “Let’s all sit and have a glass of wine while we wait for dinner,” Gabriella said.
Nobody argued, and she didn’t expect they would. She brought a bottle of Chianti and a corkscrew to the table and then retrieved glasses from the hutch. Antonio opened the wine bottle and set it aside to breathe.
“Hey, Dad, when did you knock down the wall between the living and dining room? And why didn’t you go all the way to the kitchen?” Dante asked. “I think they call that ‘open concept,’ and it seems everyone wants that now.”
“I did it about a month ago. Your mother didn’t want open concept, where everyone could look at a mountain of dirty dishes, and you know how she is about people in her kitchen when she’s trying to cook. Besides, we had to leave the structural wall alone. Otherwise, the ceiling would be on your head now. You haven’t been here for a whole month?”
“Nope. Didn’t you miss me?” Dante said with a smirk.
The patriarch smirked right back at him. “I can’t keep my sons straight. You all look alike to me.”
Everyone around the table laughed, except Gabriella. His teasing was meant in fun, but any of her sons could take it as an insult. Oh well. As long as it was Antonio talking, they’d know it was just a joke.
The man was rarely serious now that he’d retired from the fire department. All job stress suddenly removed was good for some firefighters, not so much for others. Thank heavens Antonio was enjoying his retirement fully. There were some alarming statistics about retired firefighters passing away after only five years away from the job.
Each of her boys was very different from the rest. Her firstborn, Ryan, was…well… He was supposed to be dead and couldn’t visit often just in case anyone caught sight of him, but he’d be popping in later to congratulate Luca on his graduation. He’d been reincarnated and was living in Ireland with his dragon queen, in a castle.
Jayce, now the eldest, was lighthearted and social. The others respected him, knowing he’d be leading this family someday. But just to be on the safe side, Antoni
o co-appointed Miguel to take over.
Miguel, next in line, was serious and a rule follower.
Gabe was all quiet strength. Loyal beyond question.
Dante, well—he was a little bit of everything. More like Jayce than anyone else though. A little flirty with the girls, but definitely a man’s man.
Noah was curious and smart. She might worry about his gentleness, except that unlike her other quiet sons, he had no problem speaking his mind when he wanted to.
And Luca… Ah, Luca. Her youngest. They called him the baby—and now the blue sheep; however, he was anything but. He’d been asserting himself ever since deciding to buck the family tradition and become a cop, maybe to overcompensate and prove himself an adult. She hoped not. He could get into a lot of trouble trying to out-macho all the men around the table and prove he wasn’t “the baby” anymore.
As she gazed around the table, she realized someone was missing. “Where’s Noah?” Antonio wasn’t the only one who messed up occasionally and missed a son, although it rarely happened to her. Noah hadn’t called to say he wouldn’t be coming, so maybe he was just delayed.
“Dante, did Noah say anything about being late?” Antonio asked.
“Not to me.”
Something about his too-casual shrug set off her warning bells. “Is everything all right between you two?”
Dante heaved a big sigh. “Jeez, Mom. I swear you’re psychic.”
She would have chuckled if she weren’t so concerned. “What’s going on?”
He glanced at Mallory, but before he could respond, she said with eyes downcast, “It’s my fault.”
Dante was quick to disagree. “No, it isn’t.”
Gabriella wondered at that. Was there competition for Mallory’s affections? She was certainly beautiful enough to inspire male rivalry.
Then Jayce, thank goodness, put it into words. “Is he jealous?”
“No. Nothing like that. He just can’t keep his nose out of my business.”
