Those two last cryptic words sent fear shafting through his veins like ice water.
For now. What the hell?
He was thirty years old. He hadn’t lived at home since he was eighteen and left for college. His parents had never interfered in his life but then he’d never blatantly disobeyed them before.
He’d always toed the party line. He’d gotten his degree in finance, went to work for a Mal company and worked his way up to vice president of finance. Then he’d been promoted to New York where he’d made another Mal company a hell of a lot more money by gobbling up smaller firms they used for various services, streamlining the operations and making them profitable.
He’d made so much money he’d earned an invite to Bennett’s brownstone.
And met Cara.
It occasionally occurred to him that if he hadn’t been such a good Mal, he never would have met her.
He’d taken one look at her, resigned to her fate as a sexual slave, and he’d known his life was going to change.
He wasn’t going to allow anyone to screw up his plans. Not even his parents.
At least they didn’t know about Cara or Aron. No one from his old life knew about Cara and Aron. He’d been so damn careful when he’d staged her death, after he’d known, instinctively and without a doubt, that she was pregnant.
He’d taken months to set it all up, to make it believable. He’d needed another body, one that so closely resembled Cara no one would suspect it wasn’t really her splattered all over the ground.
New York’s finest had been around the corner on a bogus domestic abuse call Michael had made a half hour earlier. That had ensured Bennett’s men didn’t get to the body before the police. It also had forced Bennett to come up with a reason why a nameless young woman had tossed herself out of the window of his building.
Bennett had had to do so much tap-dancing, he was lucky his feet didn’t fall off.
It hadn’t taken long for the heat to die down after Bennett had concocted a story about a distraught cleaning woman. He’d even come up with a name and a full life history for a dead body he believed was Cara’s.
Then it was a matter of getting himself out. He’d embezzled money, a hell of a lot of money. He’d made it look as if he’d been stealing for years, transferring the funds to an untraceable Swiss bank account then making it appear that he’d fled to Europe.
He hadn’t disappeared until weeks after they’d faked Cara’s death. He’d kept her hidden in his apartment until they’d finally gotten out of the city and headed south then west.
They’d kept on the move as Cara’s pregnancy had lasted far longer than any normal pregnancy. Finally, after Aron had arrived, they’d planned how Michael would go back for Lacey, not knowing Lacey had already gotten out on her own.
He heard the bed shift in the room behind him and he turned in the doorway to see Cara sitting in the bed, watching him.
She held out her hand and he walked over to take it.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
For one second, he considered lying then realized if he did, he’d be no better than the Mal he’d struggled to leave behind.
“My mother just called.”
Her brows arched. “You gave her your number?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea how she got it. She told me I should return and pay for my crimes.”
Her fingers worked their way to his nape, where she scratched lightly at his skin. He wanted to close his eyes, sink into the sensation and shut out everything but Cara.
He knew he couldn’t.
“Do we need to leave?” Cara asked.
Where the hell would they go? His mother had gotten a supposedly untraceable phone number. “No. We stick to the plan. I’ll take care of Bennett with the help of the de Feos and you and Aron will stay here—”
“Sal told you about the consequences of your healing, didn’t he?”
She looked into his eyes, her gaze holding his steady even as his heartbeat accelerated alarmingly.
Of course he knew the consequences and he was willing to accept them if it kept her and Aron safe. Yes, there was a very real possibility that he wouldn’t make it back, but as long as he took out Bennett before he became incapacitated and died, then he’d give his life for theirs.
What he couldn’t bear to hear from Cara was that she didn’t want to be tied to him like this forever. His fear of her rejection swamped him in heat and panic. He felt like someone had sucker-punched him and he had to take a deep breath to quell the lightheadedness.
“Yes,” he said. “And I’m fully prepared—”
“Then you know I’ll be coming with you when you go for Bennett.”
Her calm words stopped him cold. Her warm hand on his neck soothed him. And her soft smile made everything in him still.
“I don’t want to lose you, Michael.” Her smile turned bittersweet. “I know you’d prefer not to be tied to me like this—”
“Wait. Cara.” He held up one hand. “Don’t you know I’d give anything to have you tied to me in any way? I know I’ve never said the words because I didn’t want to frighten you but…I love you. My life was nothing but money and greed until you came along.”
He wrapped his hand around her neck, feeling the strong pull of her arus on his. It’d never been so intense before. Heat and something else, something sweet and tender and so utterly foreign to anything he’d ever felt before, washed through him, calming his fears as he continued to pour out his long-suppressed emotions.
“I took one look at you,” he continued, “and I knew my life had been worthless until that moment. I knew we were meant to be together and it scared the shit out of me, Cara. You terrified me because you had the power to ruin my life.
“But…you didn’t ruin it, Cara. You made it all worthwhile. You and Aron. You two are the only people in this world that I would give my life for. And I’m perfectly willing to do it.”
Her dazed smile lit a fire in his chest and he leaned forward to lock his lips with hers. She scooted closer, wrapped both hands around his neck and held on.
Heat rose but he forced it back. He didn’t want to get off track now and she had the ability to knock him so far afield it’d take him days to get back.
No, they had to get through this now.
He pulled back, gratified when she tried to keep him close. “We need to talk, Cara.”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about. Aron will stay with Lacey and Sal. He’ll be safe with them. You won’t be safe without me. And Aron needs us to come back to him. Both of us.” Her smile made him burn. “You’re not going anywhere without me.”
* * * * *
The next afternoon, bodies overflowed from Sal’s kitchen into the dining room, along with the enticing aroma of Sal’s homemade marinara sauce.
Three of the four de Feo brothers and their mates sat at the table in the dining room, entertaining Aron. Their easy conversation covered the more intense talk going on in the kitchen.
When the de Feos had shown up with another couple, Michael had immediately been put on edge. Cara had laid her hand on his arm as he’d stiffened when introduced.
The new guy had an easy grin and power rolled off him in waves. His arus burned so strong, Michael swore he saw the aura of it surrounding him. The guy was all golden blond hair and handsome features but Michael sensed he could do a hell of a lot of damage easily, despite the calming influence of the beautiful redhead at his side, who Michael recognized immediately as Fata.
Antonin had introduced the couple as Ellie’s brother, Justin, and his mate, Scarlata.
“We want Justin and Scarlata to stay here with Aron when we leave,” Antonin had said. “Believe me, you’re gonna want him here. Why don’t you go in the kitchen and talk?”
Michael had reached for Justin’s hand and tried not to wince at the shock that went through him when they shook. Damn, the guy could power the house with the arus running through his veins.
/> Opening his mouth to grill the guy, Michael stopped when Cara pulled him into the kitchen, followed by Justin and Scarlata. Sal gave them plates, told them to help themselves then started another pot of water to boil for more pasta.
“How’s Florida?” Sal asked the newcomers.
“Hot,” Scarlata said, her faint Italian accent soothing over Michael’s jangled nerves, just as Cara’s hand on his arm kept him from exploding out of his skin. “The humidity is stifling right now. So this is a nice break, especially in my condition.”
Sal turned from the stove to smile at the woman. “I thought I picked up something different, babe. Congrats.”
The woman smiled for the first time since they’d arrived and Michael was stunned by her resemblance to Cara. “Thank you, Sal.” She turned to Justin and ran a hand over his chin. “We’re very excited.”
Tinia’s teat, Scarlata could be Cara and Lacey’s sister. Could they be—
“Excuse me,” Michael broke in. “I don’t meant to be rude but…who exactly are you?”
The redhead looked at him with sharp, dark eyes then turned her gaze on Cara. “I believe we are cousins.”
Cara’s mouth opened then closed without saying a word, her eyes wide. Even Michael couldn’t formulate a response to that.
“You’re querciola, correct?” Scarlata asked.
Cara nodded slowly.
The other woman smiled. “And I am folletta. I believe our mothers were sisters. What was your mother’s name?”
Cara hesitated one second before answering. “My mom’s name was Apronai.”
Scarlata nodded. “And mine was Tirai. When I was young, my mother occasionally talked about her sister who had moved to the New World. Mother said her name was Apronai. When I moved here, I attempted to find my aunt but was unable.”
Scarlata’s smile showed again and her eyes softened. “It’s nice to meet you, cousin. My mate and I will do everything we can to protect your son while you and Michael hunt down the animal who hurt you and your sister. Justin is rather special.”
“And she doesn’t mean in the Special Olympics kind of way.” Justin’s easy smile and hint of a drawl eased a little bit more of the tension building in Michael’s chest. “Every single person in these rooms vouched for you, Michael. And I gotta tell you, that goes a hell of a long way with me.” Then his expression sobered. “But I have to ask the questions myself. I won’t risk Scarlata or my child—”
“Your child?” Scarlata’s eyebrows lifted and her voice should have made the man bleed.
“Our child,” Justin corrected himself with a nod at his mate. “You have to give me your word you’re not gonna screw us. You have to swear it because if you fuck us over—”
“My pregnancy has made Justin forget his manners,” Scarlata cut off her mate, giving him another one of her stares, to which he replied with his own raised eyebrow. “Please don’t—”
“I will give my life,” Michael said, “before I allow the Mal to take Cara or Lacey. And I will not betray anyone to do it. I’ll kill myself first.”
Justin’s smile returned. “Then let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that.”
* * * * *
Cara’s entire body ached with tension by the time the details to their plan were hammered out.
Everyone but Michael had agreed that Cara needed to stay by his side. He’d fought long and hard against it.
Easier to determine had been who was staying behind—Justin, Scarlata, Antonin, Ellie, Rosie and Lacey. They’d stay with Aron and Sal here at the house.
Cam, Teo, Rio, Stella, Cara and Michael would go to Long Island, where Bennett was located.
Cam hadn’t been too eager to take Stella but he hadn’t argued as much as Michael had about Cara going.
Cara understood his reluctance. Really, she did. But she saw his desire for her to stay at home as suicide.
And that was making her crazy.
While everyone continued to discuss the situation, she slipped out the side door of the house into Sal’s small courtyard to think. Aron was completely engrossed in building block towers with Rosie and Rio and knocking them down. He never seemed to get tired of that.
While he was occupied, she needed a little space to think and Sal’s courtyard was the perfect place for a little private introspection.
Enclosed on all sides by a tall fence, the area was shaded from the prying eyes of neighbors by an oak tree planted in the center. Its branches covered the entire small patio and beautiful border garden. Cara felt invisible there, the serenity of the garden easing into her psyche and calming her.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, breathing in the late-summer perfume of basil, oregano and rosemary in Sal’s herb garden. A few fat bees buzzed around the hydrangea blooms and the rudbeckia, and the late-afternoon sun gilded everything with a golden haze.
You’d never know Sal lived in the middle of a city. She barely heard the rumble of traffic and wondered if Sal had a dampening spell around the area.
She’d lived in New York City but had never been allowed to walk the streets. She and Lacey spent any time outdoors on top of the building, where the Mal had created a garden larger than Sal’s but less welcoming.
That rooftop garden had been full of straight lines and trimmed trees and grass. Perfect tea roses bloomed from spring through fall and she’d never seen a dead blossom. Ever. For all its perfection, the garden had been static. Joyless.
Here…here she could be happy for days. She could lose herself in the scents and the textures.
Too bad she couldn’t stay here forever.
The door on the side of the house that led out to the garden opened and Michael walked out. His expression was set in smooth lines. No hint of stress showed but his eyes… In his eyes, she saw a wildness he couldn’t hide.
He walked out the path between the fence and the house but stopped at the edge of the garden.
“Are they finished making plans?” she asked.
Michael sighed before nodding. “Yes. Teo and Cam left to get weapons. When they get back, we’ll leave.” He hesitated. “Cara, please reconsider. I’m begging you—”
He broke off, confusion evident in his furrowed brow.
Cara frowned as well. “Michael? What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I thought I felt…something…”
She stood, brushing off the seat of her denim shorts before walking over to Michael. “Felt what?”
“I’m not sure. Look, let’s go inside and—”
Michael’s eyes widened and fear traced shivers up her spine. Or had she felt something brush past her? A spell?
She laid her hand on his arm and tried to get him to turn back to the house, but he seemed frozen in place. “Michael? What is it? What—”
He took two steps backward, away from her, and held out his hands to stop her from coming closer. “No! Stay back, Cara. Gods damn it—”
And he vanished.
* * * * *
The disorientation of the powerful translocation spell left Michael with a wicked headache and violent nausea.
When he rematerialized, he fell to his knees and lost the contents of his stomach on the hardwood floor.
His mother was going to be pissed.
Of course, it would serve her right if he just died right there on the floor of her altar room.
He’d recognized his whereabouts immediately, even through the haze of excruciating pain running through his body like poison.
“Michael, please,” his mother said. “Get off the floor. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
Vivianne and Francis Corsi stood in front of him. His mother’s disgusted expression trumped his father’s cool glare. Growing up, it had taken Michael until he was sixteen to realize his father wasn’t really the one in charge in their home.
His mom held the true power. She was a strong strega, and though she hadn’t been born Malandante, she had been raised as one. And that had made his moth
er more of a Mal than if she’d been born to it.
Still on his hands and knees, he pushed to his feet, though the grinding pain made his head swim and he nearly toppled back over.
“Oh for the gods’ sake,” Vivianne huffed. “You act like you’re dying. Don’t be so dramatic. And don’t act surprised to be here. I warned you. You’ve got debts to pay, Michael, and it’s time to pay them.”
Breathing through his nose to try to calm the nausea, he met his mother’s dark gaze. Vivianne Corsi was a beautiful woman. At seventy-two years old, her face was barely lined, her body slim and toned. She stood only two inches over five feet but she projected the power and strength of a man twice her size.
“Hello, Mother.” He had to grit his teeth against the pain in every one of his muscles. “Nice to see you. And you, Father. Sorry if I don’t offer to shake your hand but I’m not feeling too good at the moment.”
His mother walked closer, arms across her chest as she looked him up and down. “Don’t think this will keep you from paying for your crimes. We gave you two years to come to your senses. But when we were approached by your former employer we decided we’d let you have enough rope and it was time to pull you in.”
“So…Rhoades finally,” he gasped around the pain, “grew some balls?”
“Not Rhoades, dear. Franklin Bennett will be here in minutes to take you back to New York.”
The news didn’t surprise him as much as it should have. “Then he better hurry ’cause I’ll be dead in half an hour.”
Chapter Six
The pain was barely manageable but all Cara could think about was Michael.
He must be in agony and she needed to get to him.
It took her several seconds to work through the sudden searing pain and then another few to drag herself to her feet and back to the house.
Pushing through the door, trying to breathe through the burning agony in her chest, she realized no one was in sight.
“Sal! Sal, where are you? Someone took Michael.”
Cara heard movement in all parts of the house and people came running. Tears formed and she knew it wasn’t solely because of the fear she felt over Michael’s disappearance.
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