Moon Bound

by Stephanie Julian

  He took a deep breath, forcing down both emotions before they overwhelmed him to the point that he couldn’t think. “What happened?”

  She stared up at him, her brown eyes wary. She’d expected him to doubt her.

  His stomach clenched with regret. What did that say about their relationship?

  What relationship?

  That clench became pain.

  Her eyes narrowed as she drew in a breath. “After work Tuesday a week ago, I was walking to my car and two men nearly ran me over. They said it was an accident then they tried to get me into their car, said they’d give me a ride to the hospital. But I could smell the lie on them. I turned and ran.”

  She paused and his gaze narrowed. None of this remotely related to him. Yes, it sounded as if the men had tried to abduct her but…she lived in Philadelphia. It was frightening but not out of the realm of possibility in the big city.

  “And how does this have anything to do with me?”

  She paused and bit her lip. “Because when I doubled back, I heard them say your name.”

  He shook his head. “You had to be mista—”

  “They worked for Charles Jones.”

  No. Absolutely not. He prepared to find the flaw in her reasoning. “Why do you think that?”

  She sighed. “Because they called your boss after they lost me.”

  No. He shook his head again. “There is no way Charles would be connected in any way with an attempt to kidnap you. He knows nothing about you. I’ve never mentioned you.”

  She flinched. He barely caught her slight motion but he felt it like a blow to his chest. Damn it. When was he going to stop hurting her?

  Then she straightened, her mouth settled in grim lines. “I know what I heard, Steven. Those men told Charles Jones that they were unable to ‘detain’ me.”

  “You must have heard wrong. Why would Charles want to kidnap you?”

  “Maybe you don’t know the man as well as you think.”

  “No—”

  The door to the club opened and they both turned to look at the lanky, blond man who walked out.

  “Quinn!” Bella practically squealed, drawing Steven’s gaze back to see the bright smile that had broken out on her face. “I didn’t know you were in town. How are you?”

  “Hey, babe.” His hands on her hips, Quinn lifted Bella against him and smacked a kiss on her lips. “How’s it going?”

  Steven’s hands clenched into fists at the easy familiarity between them while Bella’s laugh made the bottom drop out of his stomach. Jealousy curled around his lungs like a vise, depriving his brain of much-needed oxygen. He wanted to pound the man for touching her. Maybe more so for making her laugh.

  “Fine. I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

  “Seeing a friend in town.”

  With another smile, Quinn set Bella on her feet and turned to Steven, his arm still around her waist, his smile disappearing.

  Steven had expected Quinn to ignore him but was shocked when the man held out his hand. “Castiglione. Been a while.”

  Steven took his hand. “Kennett.”

  As Cole’s tribunus, Quinn was second in command of the lucani army, which Cole led by birthright. He was one of Cole’s most trusted advisors, but Steven had only met him a few times before Cole had cut Steven out of his life. And Bella’s.

  “So my brother sent you here to check on me, didn’t he?” Bella broke the awkward silence that fell as Steven released Quinn’s hand.

  Quinn dismissed Steven completely when he turned to smile at Bella. “What’ve you gotten yourself into now, babe?” Lifting his hand, Quinn ran his fingers through her sleek brown hair. It was shorter than it had been the last time he’d seen her, exposing her neck. He wanted to cut off Quinn’s hand. “Your brother called a few hours ago, asked me to check here for you.” He held up one hand to stop Bella’s immediate outburst. “And, since I was in the area, I figured I’d stop and say hi. Cole’s worried about you, babe. You should give him a call.”

  Anger and something that felt a lot like betrayal burned through Steven. Damn it. He should have known Cole wouldn’t let him be alone with Bella for any length of time.

  Bella shook her head. “I didn’t want to worry him. And I don’t want this getting back to him, not now. Not with congress in less than a week.” She paused to take a breath. “Someone tried to snatch me last week.”

  Chapter Three

  There was an art to dealing with a god.

  Remo dropped to one knee when Veive walked into his private office. He made sure no one saw him do it, though. Wouldn’t be good to have the peons catch him in this subservient position. Might give them ideas.

  “Lord of the Avenging Arrow. Welcome—”

  “Yeah, whatever.” The dark-haired man waved one large, tanned hand in the air, which Remo took to mean he could get off his knees. “Cut to the chase, Mal.”

  The Etruscan God of Revenge stood in the middle of Remo’s multimillion-dollar square footage, a bored expression on his handsome face. But his dark gaze roamed the expansive room, taking in every piece of antique wood trim, the carved detail on the ceiling and the view of the city.

  Remo had rehearsed this speech until he knew it backward and forward. He’d made sure he’d spelled out exactly what he wanted before he’d performed the summoning ritual. He’d been a little rusty. For five centuries, he hadn’t needed the help of the Etruscan deities to create his empire.

  Other Etruscans continued to pay homage to the gods and goddesses in hidden temples, particularly in Reading, Pennsylvania, where much of the Etruscan race had settled when they emigrated from Italy.

  The Mal weren’t welcome there. Hell, they weren’t welcome anywhere the rest of the Etruscans gathered. They were afraid of the Mal. And with good reason, considering the Mal had kicked their asses during the Purge of 1758. He’d had only been testing the waters then.

  He was planning some serious fun now.

  “I have a deal to offer you, Lord,” he started. “One I believe you’ll be interested in.”

  Veive didn’t even bother to look at him. “I don’t believe you have anything to offer me.”

  Then why’d you come?

  Remo tried to bury the thought before Veive picked up on it. The deities had lost some of their powers over the millennia of their existence, but not all. So there was a good chance Veive could read his mind if he wanted too.

  Still, his unspoken question remained a valid one. Why had he come?

  The god turned his gaze on Remo. Pain shot through his gut, nearly taking him to his knees. Remo gritted his teeth and locked his knees. He refused to go down.

  “Maybe I just like to keep up on current events, Paganelli.” The god’s lips lifted in a cruel twist. “Or maybe I just like to fuck with the humans every now and then.”

  The god his father had called on to curse the streghe five hundred years ago wanted to play with him. Well, Remo would let him have his fun. For a while.

  “I request your aid.” He managed to speak through his gritted teeth. “And for it, I can deliver the lucani king to you on a platter. If you agree to grant my request.”

  Veive’s expression remained bored but his eyes flickered with interest and the pain receded. For the most part. “And why would I want the lucani king?”

  That would be a legitimate question…if Remo didn’t know just how badly Veive hated Tivr, God of the Moon, who kept close ties with the lucani.

  The Etruscans deities could hold a grudge a damn long time.

  “Because it will be sure to piss off Tivr.”

  * * *

  “Gabe’s out of town so we have the place to ourselves.”

  Several blocks from the club, Quinn opened a concealed panel on the front door of a nondescript row home and entered several numbers into the state-of-the-art security system.

  Bella scented magic surrounding the building. The wards were strong and the air literally moved aside when Quinn muttered the spells to
let them enter.

  Steven stiffened beside her and she knew he felt it, too, though he’d never admit it.

  Stubborn fool.

  Stifling a sigh, she followed Quinn through a sparse living room into a seventies’ era kitchen. Waving them into chairs at the breakfast bar, he pulled coffee out of the fridge as if he owned the place. After setting up the coffeemaker, he leaned against the counter and snagged Bella’s gaze.

  “So, are you going to tell me what happened or do I pull rank on you?”

  And he’d do it, too. Quinn might act like an easy-going guy but he had a streak of steel that made him perfect as Cole’s tribunus.

  And even though she was a princess of the Luporeale ruling family, her title held no meaning to the legion. Only Cole’s title as legatus did.

  She took a deep breath and shot a quick glance at Steven. He hadn’t said a word on the way over here. She knew he was sifting through information, trying to find the flaws. He didn’t want to believe her.

  Screw that. Quinn would know she wasn’t lying.

  “Last week, two men tried to run me down. They told me it was an accident, but they were lying. They deliberately tried to hit me then tried to get me in their car. Said they wanted to take me to the hospital which was complete bullshit. I ran. They followed but I lost them after a few blocks. When I doubled back, I heard them mention Steven’s boss’s name.”

  “Then you were mistaken.” Steven’s calm voice was in direct opposition to the furious look in his eyes.

  That look made her stomach clench in on itself. He didn’t believe her. Or…he just didn’t want to believe her.

  “Are you sure that’s what you heard, Bella?” Quinn’s sharp green gaze held hers. “Could they have known you were listening and tried to frame this guy… What’s his name?”

  “Charles Jones.” Steven’s voice sounded strangled. “He’s the senior partner in the law firm I work for in Florida. Charles could have nothing to do with this.”

  Quinn looked at Stephen with raised eyebrows. “And you know this how?”

  “Because I checked him out before I went to work for him. He has no ties to the Etruscans, no ties to the Mal, no magic of his own.”

  Quinn cocked his head, considering. “So your boss has no idea what you are?”

  Steven flinched like Quinn had hit him. “No. And I don’t think he’d believe me if I told him. He’s a rational man.”

  “And we’re all crazy, right?”

  Quinn’s tone was light, but she could tell Steven was starting to piss him off. And it took a hell of a lot to piss off Quinn.

  Steven wouldn’t back down. “Sometimes I’d rather believe that than the truth.”

  Her stomach rolled at the flat statement of fact of Steven’s voice. Damn him. The man had already broken her heart once. Why was she giving him another chance?

  She must have made some sound because both men turned toward her—Quinn’s expression sympathetic, Steven stone-faced. But his eyes…those beautiful blue eyes burned.

  “When did you become a coward, Steven?” she asked.

  His gaze narrowed. Good, that barb stuck.

  “I’m not a coward.” His voice held a too-rational edge that went through her like nails on a chalkboard. “I’m a realist. The earth’s magic is fading. The Old Gods are long gone and those who are left don’t give a shit about our people.”

  Her hands immediately went to her hips as they assumed well-worn fighting stances. “So we should forget about our culture? Our way of life? Forget all the wonderful things we can do and become like the eteri? Deaf and blind to magic?”

  Her anger rose, consuming her in thick heat, and she went for his most vulnerable point. “Your dad would be ashamed of you. When he died, you tied all your emotions into a neat little package and stuck them away somewhere no one could touch them.”

  He inhaled, eyes narrowing even more. “My father was murdered. And I left because I couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.”

  Her hands flew into the air, as if she could brush aside his words. “But you did anyway! You lost us, lost me—”

  “With good fucking reason!”

  There, now he was riled. Though his hands were still clenched at his sides, he’d started to swear and that mean he was losing his control. Good.

  “Gods-be-damned, Bella—”

  “How can you say that?” She poked a finger into his chest, only peripherally aware that they still had an audience. “What good reason? There is no good reason to deny your heritage. To deny me or Cole. As if you’re ashamed of us. Ashamed of me.”

  Her voice broke on that last word and she shut her mouth with a snap. Damn it. She hadn’t meant for that to slip out. She wanted to take the words back as soon as they left her mouth. She sucked her top lip between her teeth to hold back anything else. But tears still formed in the corners of her eyes.

  I will not cry. Not now. I won’t give him that satisfaction.

  Dragging in a deep breath, she bit her tongue until they receded, watching with satisfaction when Steven recoiled as if she’d slapped him.

  Finally, emotion. Just not the emotion she’d wanted.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  “Arabella.”

  Quinn’s calm voice slid between them, cutting off whatever Steven might have said.

  With an effort, she turned to Quinn. His sympathetic expression made tears rise again but she refused to let them fall.

  “I’m no mediator. I’m a soldier. If you want me to kill someone…” he slid a quick glance at Steven and bared his teeth, “I can do that. But this… I can’t fix this. This is something you two have to figure it out.” He rose, wrote a few numbers on the notepad in the center of the table. “Those are the codes to lock the house when you leave. Burn them when you’re done. Don’t bother with the wards. I’ll fix them later.”

  Stepping between her and Steven, with his back to the other man, Quinn smiled down into her eyes. She’d never seen Quinn upset. Had never heard him raise his voice or get angry. Not once.

  “If you need me, you know how to find me. I’ll call Cole, let him know you’re okay. I’ll get him to give you an hour before he starts to bombard your cell which you damn well will turn on.” He dropped a kiss on her lips, gave it a little more enthusiasm than your average goodbye kiss. Then he winked before he turned to Steven. “Hey, man. A little unwanted advice. Don’t waste your time fighting. You don’t have as much as you think you do.”

  Quinn didn’t wait for Steven to reply. He walked away, closing the door behind him.

  Steven never took his eyes off of her. His chest rose and fell as if he’d just run a five-minute mile but his expression had gone blank.

  She didn’t know what to say, what he was thinking. There had been a time when she could read his every expression. Now she wouldn’t want to guess.

  After several tense moments, he finally shook his head. “You think I’m ashamed of you?”

  She inhaled to replace the stale air she’d been holding. “Yes. I think you’re ashamed of me. You think I’d taint the perfect world you’ve created for yourself in Florida. Away from the world you’ve tried so hard to forget.”

  He looked away and she couldn’t tell if she’d hit on the truth or angered him again.

  “My world is far from perfect, Bella. How can it be when the one thing I want, I can never have.”

  As Bella’s eyes widened in shock, Steven turned and walked out the front door, not quite sure where he was going. Not caring.

  He had to walk away. He couldn’t stand there and continue to hurt the woman he loved. Would always love.

  Could never have.

  Hands in his pants pockets, he walked past neglected brownstones with boarded windows.

  There had to be a reason for Bella’s attempted kidnapping. A rational explanation.

  One that didn’t include Charles Jones.

  After his dad’s death and the aftermath, he’d changed his name, left behind everything
that mattered to him, and moved to Florida to finish his law degree.

  Charles had recruited him out of the Florida State University Law School. He’d been free with his praise of Steven’s skill and even more frank about his shortcomings. And the man had been honest. Steven had used the tiniest bit of forbidden magic to make sure.

  For the past three years, they’d worked side-by-side and Steven had noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Charles could be ruthless when he had to be but he was a damn good lawyer. Steven had fit into the firm as if it’d been born to it.

  Had it all been a set-up?

  And if it was, how would Charles know Bella was the key to controlling Steven?

  Shit. He stopped, the urge to hit something nearly overwhelming. Then he realized where he was. Marelli’s Trattoria on South Sixth Street.

  This late at night, the restaurant was closed but Uni’s Temple, concealed in the back of the building, was open all hours.

  From the outside, the brick building looked like all the others on the block. Three stories separated by only three or four feet. In the early part of the century until the late seventies, most of the neighborhood south of Penn Street had been populated by Italian immigrants and their families.

  The barbers, grocers and doctors had names like Cambria, Puccini and Damato. Holy Rosary Church at Third and Franklin served that community and every Sunday morning after church, the parishioners stopped at ATV Bakery next door for bread for Sunday dinner.

  The Etruscans lived among their fellow Italians, blended into the eteri society. Some even attended church to keep up appearances.

  Today, the landscape hadn’t changed much but the demographics had. The Latin population had eclipsed the Italian, but the heart of the Etruscan religious community beat here, in the back of a century-old Italian restaurant.

  The Temple of the Great Goddess Uni had an open door policy. Not only was its doors never locked to those of Etruscan descent, but anyone of Etruscan descent could enter. Including the Mal.

  Slipping into the dark walkway to the left of the restaurant’s front door, he walked to past the kitchen entrance to the very end of the building. Steven finally stopped at an iron door disguised as an emergency exit. This door would only open for an Etruscan with arus in his blood.