by Sharon Kay
“Special skills.” Worry filled her eyes as she stared at Rhys. “They know exactly what I can do.”
He crossed the room to wrap his arms around her. “You’ve got four warriors and a demoness who will stand between you and them. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Okay.” She let out a shaky sigh.
“Good morning!” Meena’s cheery voice carried through the bright kitchen. “Oh, sorry to interrupt.”
Rhys stepped back from Enza, cleared his throat, and pointed to one of Enza’s foreign language signs. “Well, it does say, Kiss the Cook.”
“Brushing up on your Italian. Very nice.” Meena grinned. “Hey, are any of your friends coming today?”
“Meena.” Enza shook her head, exasperation in her tone. “They have jobs, you know.”
“Just asking. Geez.” Meena arched a brow. “Business picks up when they’re here. Anyway, Ben and I will be out front.” She ducked out of the doorway.
Rhys stroked a hand down Enza’s back. “You good?”
She nodded. “Between baking two hundred muffins, cookies, and tarts, and knowing you’re here, I’ll be fine.”
“That’s my girl.” He kissed her cheek. “Since the store is open, I’m gonna sit out front.”
“Have fun. Ben makes the best espresso, if you’re interested.”
“Good to know.” He walked out and around the counter, past a line of three groggy, bleary-eyed men, to sit at a table away from the windows but with a view of the street. Once the trio of customers left, the store was quiet, and Meena came around the counter and beelined for his table.
“Did you want to order anything?” she asked.
“Yes. The biggest, strongest, darkest coffee you have.” He surveyed the cheerful interior, quirky with its colored pendant lights over the counter. “And pick out something Enza made. Doesn’t matter what.”
“You got it.” She hurried off.
Rhys settled in, watching the growing parade of pedestrians outside. The heat had returned, threatening to reach triple digits, and the city news feed was abuzz with warnings for people to check on their neighbors. Meena returned with his order, a coffee that smelled as bold as he’d requested, plus some kind of scone he knew he’d love.
The customers who came in were a wide range of personalities. Students with backpacks slung over shoulders, moms with small children, as well as professionally dressed men and women. A few men in casual clothes came in and set up laptops. But no supernatural creatures.
Even outside, he only glimpsed a few souls who might be fae. From inside the shop, he couldn’t tell for sure.
An hour passed, and the crowd changed to mostly women in workout clothes. If Rhys listened hard, he could make out Enza back in the kitchen alternately humming and talking to herself. A sudden thought popped into his head, of how it would be to hear her hum and chatter away while baking in his kitchen. She had admired it. If she didn’t like it, he’d make any changes she wanted. It wasn’t as if he and the guys used it much.
Whoa.
Where had that come from? Yeah, it might be nice, but he was getting ahead of himself. Before he could think about playing house, he had to make sure his pretty baker was no longer in the crosshairs of some deranged Deserati demons.
His phone buzzed with an alert. The facial recognition program had found a match. All his home software was linked to his phone, because who knew when crucial information was going to come in.
Rapidly flipping to the app, he opened it and found himself staring at the side-by-side match of Antonio Grasso...
Holy shit. No.
No fucking way.
The mug shot on Rhys’s phone was an epic disaster made real. The picture was definitely Grasso, but the rest of the details turned Rhys’s blood cold.
Location: Provincia di Messina, Departimento di Polizia
Date: 18 Marzo 1988
Alias: Antonio Conte
Rhys stared, transfixed, as a hundred what the fucks tore through his head.
It couldn’t be.
This male could not be who Rhys suspected he was.
But goddamn it all. Enza had said her father’s name was Tony Conte. And that her mother met him in Italy in the spring…doing the math, the year would have been 1988.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
This male would have kidnapped his own daughter? What kind of monster—
Wait. Did he even know he had a daughter?
Shit. Rhys closed the app and slid his chair back to stand. He had to tell her, and this would go over like a lead balloon.
Then again…Enza had said she had no need to ever track down her father.
But that was before they both knew he was tracking her. Goddamn it! Rhys clenched his fist. Standing, he scrutinzed the bright, upbeat shop. Patrons drank coffee and munched on Enza’s amazing creations, unaware of what lurked all around. His little baker’s world was about to get flipped on its head—again.
The door opened, its little bell jingling cheerfully above the chatter of customers.
And Soren Adamson and Antonio Grasso walked in.
CHAPTER 32
FURY ROARED THROUGH RHYS’S VEINS. Not only at the asshole who would harm his daughter. But at the fact that these two entered this shop. Enza’s shop. Now, in the damn daytime. The fact that they had come anywhere near her made Rhys want to kill them.
They spotted him instantly, predator to predator, and paused by the door.
Rhys moved with the quickness and lightness born of necessity, of having to diffuse situations that shouldn’t play out in front of human eyes. He stalked toward them, rage pounding a death beat in his veins.
The two didn’t wait. Whirling, they darted out the door and down the street.
The predator in Rhys was already primed for a fight, but their flight only pushed his need to destroy them into overdrive. He chased them through a group of startled midday shoppers and around the corner of the building, where an alley beckoned.
Away from human sight, whether by chance or design. He didn’t care. He followed them, into the alley, darting around a dumpster…almost to them….As he caught up to Adamson he lunged, arms locking around the man’s waist and bringing him down.
With a thud, they crashed to the cracked pavement. Adamson struggled and rolled, managing to flip Rhys to his back, forcing him to let go.
Didn’t matter. Faster than he could take a breath, Rhys summoned a ball of demonfire and flung it, then summoned a second. He anticipated Soren’s ducking to the side to avoid it, and threw the second ball timed perfectly to hit him in the chest.
Except it didn’t hit his chest. Soren had stayed low, and the fire grazed his bicep.
Smart. Rhys got to his feet and pulled a knife from his boot. Daytime in the summer limited the weapons he could carry around the city, but there were still plenty of lethal, concealable objects. Soren had a blade too, and he and Rhys circled each other warily.
Rhys cursed silently. Antonio had disappeared when he’d taken Soren to the ground. A growl burst from his throat. He needed to incapacitate Soren and find that bastard. He was too close to Enza. “Where’s your friend?” Rhys asked Soren. “Thought you two did everything together.”
“We do. And when one of us is busy, the other one gets the job done. More than I can say for you.” Soren sneered. “You seem to be missing your whole team.”
Rhys edged closer, backing Soren up to the corner of the building. He’d bet Antonio went that way. He also had a sick feeling that the service door to Java Genie was there, as well.
Fuck it. Rhys charged, unable to wait. Enza was in danger as long as these two were loose. Soren flung his blade and it sunk into Rhys’s upper chest, just below his collarbone. “Motherfucker!” he yelled and pulled the thing out as he ran. No venom on it, thank fuck. Blood poured, but since it was a clean stab, it would heal soon.
He reached Soren and slammed his fist into the male’s jaw. A crack and crunch of broken bone echoed off the brick
as Soren garbled a curse and went down. Rhys was on him instantly, taking both hands behind his back and securing him with a plastic zip tie. It may not hold him for long, but if it bought him even a minute, that would be great.
The alley was empty, but a brown metal door with an address and the words “Java Genie” painted in white block letters was close. Rhys raced for it, praying Antonio hadn’t gone inside—
The door burst open and Antonio emerged, pulling a terrified Enza with him. He had a knife to her throat. Her eyes, wide with fear, nevertheless sparked with hope when she saw him.
“Rhys, he—”
“Shut up!” Antonio jostled her as the door slammed shut behind them.
A squeak of fright escaped her lips, but the way she looked at Rhys was full of complete trust and the certainty that he would save her. And he had to save her. It was non-negotiable. She was unique, beautiful, his to protect and, right now, defenseless.
“Let her go,” Rhys growled.
“Why the fuck would I do that?” he sneered.
“Take me instead.” Rhys spread his arms wide.
Antonio shook his head. “She’s more valuable than you’ll ever be.”
“Why her? There are others with her ability. Here in the city as we speak.” No, Rhys wasn’t throwing Miranda under the bus. She’d relish a fight with Antonio if she ever met him.
“She’s alone. No clan surrounding her, protecting her.”
“So what, she’s an easy target?” Rhys edged closer. “You fucking coward.”
Behind him, Soren mumbled something and spat. Hard to talk with a broken jaw. And without a healer, it would be a bitch for a while.
“I find creatures with special abilities. And she is very special indeed.”
“Yeah? And what was so special about that nymph you kidnapped?” Rhys kept his hands wide, seeming casual. But he and any other predator worth his weapons would know it was a façade.
Antonio frowned. “How do you—never mind. We find them. Splinter gets to decide what to do with them.”
“Females who can’t defend themselves? You cocksucking bastard.” Rhys moved one hand down slowly, toward another hidden blade in his jeans.
“It’s a job,” Antonio shrugged, “and—”
The door pushed open.
Rhys whirled toward it. This gave him the unexpected chance to get his hand on his weapon. But oh fuck.
“Enza, honey?” A dark-haired human woman, seeming to be in her late forties, stepped out. She could be Enza, in one of those age-progression photos. “Are you out he—” A shriek left her lips as she took in Enza and the Deserati. “Oh my god! My baby—”
“Get back inside, ma’am.” Rhys poured as much command into his voice as he dared. He didn’t want to spook her into a screaming fit. Didn’t want to spook Antonio into doing something worse than he already was. “It’s under control.”
“Under control?” the woman cried. “Who are you? A cop? He has a knife!” She pointed to Antonio.
“Mom, please, go back inside,” Enza whispered. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Antonio studied Enza’s mom with a strange expression. If it were possible for a predator to get pale, he was halfway there.
Mom—Concetta, Rhys remembered—didn’t go inside, and instead refocused on Antonio. “What do you want with my daughter? Money? I’ll give you everything I have. Please. Let her go.” Tears trickled down her face. “Please.”
Rhys stepped close to her. “Concetta, please. Go inside. We’ll explain it all later.”
“How do you know my n—”
“What the—” Antonio gaped at Concetta. He shook his head as if to clear it.
Now recognition dawned on Concetta’s face too and she clapped a hand over her heart. “W-who are you?” she asked, eyes wide and wary in an expression Rhys had seen too many times on Enza’s face.
“You…” He stared as confusion, concern, and shock crossed his face in a rapid-fire barrage. “How can…”
“Mom?” Enza said. “What’s going on?”
Concetta shook her head and drew several shaky breaths. “Please let her go,” she begged Antonio.
A car horn blared from the street and a hot wind blew down the alley as Antonio gazed at Concetta. He kept his grip on Enza, but Rhys noticed the slightest release of pressure at her throat. Good because if he spilled one drop of her blood, Rhys would kill him.
This was worse than bad. Daylight, a civilian in the mix, and possibly the most dysfunctional family reunion in the history of all the realms. Rhys had to get Concetta inside before things got any more out of control.
Enza turned her tear-streaked face to Rhys. She blinked and opened her mouth as if to speak. Suddenly her eyes went wide at something behind him. She gasped, “Rhys!”
Before she even got the word out, Rhys was turning. But he was too late. With a blazing spike of pain, a blade pierced his back, sliding deep.
He choked back a gagging breath, desperately needing air as his lungs turned to fire. His chest burned with a fury that could only mean one thing: Viper venom. He stumbled, heaving breaths through protesting lung tissue.
Soren coughed behind him.
“No!” Enza shrieked, and began flailing in Antonio’s grip.
“Nice aim,” Antonio grunted to Soren, as he clutched Enza. “But enough of this.” In a low, rapid tone, he began the words to a spell. The shimmery ring of a portal appeared in front of him and stretched to a diameter of six feet.
Oh, hell no. Too late, Rhys spotted the amulet wrapped around his wrist. Holding Enza close, Antonio lunged for the portal.
Concetta screamed.
“No!” Rhys charged, reaching for them, but his body and reflexes were shit at the moment. Just beyond his fingers, the circle shrank and closed with a soft pop. “Fuck!”
Soren laughed, the sound coming from behind Rhys garbled and pained. Rhys turned. The fucker’s face was a bloody mess. His jaw wasn’t closed all the way, it was open at an awkward angle, and at least two of his teeth were missing. “You can’t save her,” he sputtered, slurring the words as he backed away toward the street. His tail arched up behind him and he flicked the severed zip tie to the ground at Rhys’s feet.
“W-what…” Concetta gasped, hand over her heart. “What…is going…” Her voice faded as her breathing quickened to furious gulps. Her face glistened with a fine sheen of sweat.
Shit. She was going to pass out. Rhys moved toward her, every step a painful reminder of the knife still in his back. Concetta wavered, her hand sliding limply down the door. Rhys caught her with muscles screaming in protest. Her eyelids slid shut.
“Damn it.” He set her down carefully on the pavement as the door to the store clicked shut. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Soren’s back as he exited the alley.
Fuck. Dude was going to attract a lot of attention walking down the street covered in blood. But that was the least of Rhys’s worries. He crouched over Concetta, listening to her heartbeat that was still fast, but slowing down. He pulled out his phone and called Brenin. “We have a situation.”
“What do you need?” Brenin was pure efficiency. Rhys could hear him moving around the house. “Talk to me.”
Rhys summed up the morning’s disaster in a minute’s worth of choppy sentences. “Come straight to the alley behind the store. Don’t go inside.”
“Ah, shit,” Brenin cursed. “We’ll be right there.”
Not a minute later, Brenin, Jude, and Rilan all popped through a portal into the alley. Brenin moved behind Rhys and Rhys felt his friend’s hand on his shoulder. “This is gonna suck,” Brenin said. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” Rhys braced himself for the new wave of pain. He gritted his teeth as Brenin pulled the blade out. “Motherfucker!”
“Bastard,” Brenin muttered, inspecting the blade. “At least you can start healing now.”
True. With the poison-tipped blade out, Rhys’s accelerated healing would begin in earnest. Even now, he was abl
e to stand straighter and take a full breath without feeling like his lungs would burst. As quickly as he could, Rhys summed up the morning’s fucked up chain of events.
Rilan crouched by Concetta, whispering a spell.
Fury burned in Rhys’s veins as Brenin stared at the spot where Antonio had stood. “He fucking took her. I will kill him.”
“Dude, I feel you.” Brenin pushed his hair away from his face. “But he’s her dad.”
“We have to find them. Rilan.” Rhys turned to the Elder. “I need you to track portal activity ASAP.”
“I’ll follow this asshole as far as I can.” Jude paced the alley, crouching where Soren had lain. “He went on foot. No surprise since he can’t speak a spell with a busted jaw. Plus, the air reeks of his blood.”
Rilan nodded and straightened to his full height of five feet six. “Agreed, Jude can pursue on foot and I’ll check portal activity.” He ran a hand through the frizz of his hair. “Although, the one Enza went into may not have a destination in the city.”
“I know.” Rhys ground his molars. The thought of Enza being handed over to Splinter made him want to rip Antonio’s heart out. “I still want to check. Let’s call Miranda too.”
Rilan nodded. “Enza’s mother will stay asleep for a while. If one of you would pick her up, we can go home and I’ll start tracking from there.”
Jude gave a nod and started in the direction Soren had gone.
“We’ll find your girl.” Brenin laid a hand on Rhys’s shoulder, then scooped Concetta up in his arms. He uttered a spell to open a portal, and in seconds they were hurtling back home.
CHAPTER 33
A SICK DREAD PUSHED ITS way through Antonio’s veins as he tumbled through the portal with the female. He should feel elated that he’d finally captured her, that it had been so easy, despite the Lash protecting her.
But instead, the satisfaction of a highly sought-after talent was ruined by the knowledge of exactly who she was.
Antonio had never forgotten one particular face. No matter that she had aged a couple decades since he last saw her—gods above, Concetta was still lovely. And this girl, this creature who was his goddamn prey, was her daughter?
