Dark Symphony (Dark Series - book 10)

by Christine Feehan

  “You hate that, Tasha. You’ve always hated not being in your own bed at night. Margurite is old enough to sleep in her room alone.”

  “I know she is. She just looks so fragile. The house has so many noises, and with the break-in and all the commotion of you being shot, she’s afraid. It won’t hurt me to stay in her room one night.”

  “Unless Marita catches you,” Antonietta warned.

  Tasha made a rude noise. “The day I can’t handle Marita is the day I deny being a Scarletti.”

  “Give me a few minutes with Grandfather, and I’ll meet you.” Antonietta stood beside her cousin while the silence of the palazzo pressed in on them. “While you’re thinking about things, please do decide you’re going to make an effort with Byron. He’s going to stay.”

  Tasha sucked in her breath sharply. “Surely you wouldn’t contemplate marriage? Permanency? He’s a toy. A plaything. You know he could never be more to you. There’s too much involved.”

  “You mean money.”

  “Not just the money.” She waved her hands to encompass the palazzo. “All of it. All of us.”

  Antonietta didn’t answer. She sensed Byron’s stillness. The waiting. “I so appreciate your understanding, Cousin.” She wouldn’t give either of them the satisfaction. She went in to comfort her grandfather. It was easy enough when she knew Byron was waiting to share the rest of the long night with her.

  Chapter 10

  Byron woke deep beneath the ground with the sound of Antonietta’s voice calling to him. With the sound of her music summoning him. He lay there in his bed of rich soil, listening to the rhythm of his heart matching the beat of hers, of her music. The earth around him hummed with life, the sounds of insects and the trickle of water, all adding to the melody she was creating just for him.

  Why won’t you answer me?

  His heart leapt at the little catch in her voice.

  I am here with you. Here is not where you were when I went to sleep. You left me alone. I woke up and you were gone. It did not occur to me you would have sex with me and get up and leave.

  He lay in the warm arms of the earth, listening to the nuances of her voice, paying particular attention to the shadows lurking in her mind. Peace swept over him. Antonietta was bound to him. Belonged with him. She had ideas that didn’t quite match his own, but the ties between them were already formed and pulling tighter with each connection. It was fortunate she awakened as he did. By binding them, her discomfort level, if unable to reach him, would have soared.

  His teeth gleamed white at the little bite in her voice.

  Sex? You may have had sex with me, but I was making love to you with every breath in my body. You are the one who wants no emotion between us. He stretched, knowing she would feel his leisurely, tranquil movement. I told you separation could be difficult. Are you feeling the effects?

  There was a small silence.

  Difficult? I didn’t use that word. I didn’t even think it. You can choose to sleep anywhere you like.

  Antonietta sounded regal, haughty, very much a Scarletti. And humming with anger.

  Byron’s smile widened. The soil fell away from him, allowing him to float free, clean his body, and dress in immaculate clothing.

  You are very accepting of our differences.

  Grazie

  , Antonietta, for your understanding.

  Again he felt her pull back, a silent withdrawal while she attempted to regroup.

  What differences? You didn’t mention differences when we went to bed last night. I’ve slept the day away and thought I’d wake up with you beside me. I hoped I’d wake up with you beside me. Do you grow horns in your sleep? Is that why you left, so I wouldn’t see that you are not human?

  It was that tiny spurt of humor that melted his heart.

  I have never looked, but the possibilities are endless. You aren’t married, are you? Ouch. What a thing to ask me. I am your lifemate. I cannot be with another woman. I am afraid you are permanently stuck with me. Horns and all.

  He reached for her in his mind, holding her to him.

  I would much prefer to wake with you in my arms. I can bring you to my home this evening, and you can share my bed here.

  She sensed a hidden trap. He could feel her moving through his mind, touching his thoughts. It took her a few moments before she realized what she was doing and how easy it was. She grew even quieter, withdrawing farther from him.

  Well?

  He prompted her, mocking male amusement brushing at her teasingly.

  You’re so charming, I guess I can’t resist you.

  Deliberately she sighed.

  I should, but I don’t think I can. I prefer to sleep in my own bed and have you here with me. Take your time coming up with a good reason for slinking off like a hound dog in the middle of the night, or day, or whenever you left. But make it good and somewhat believable.

  Byron laughed. He began to move, floating upward, finding the chimney and slowly, without effort, drifting steadily toward the night sky.

  You want to stay in your own home where you feel you have the power. Do not think I do not understand that is what you are doing.

  Antonietta gasped.

  You’re flying. I feel it with you. You’re flying through the air, aren’t you? I want to do that. I am floating, gliding really. It is a pleasant sensation. Not nearly as pleasant as sharing your bed. Pretty words aren’t going to get you out of trouble. Sure they are.

  He was openly laughing, happy.

  Are you on your way back to me? If so, you can take me flying tonight for your punishment for leaving me all alone in this great big bed. You are still lying in those silk sheets without a stitch on.

  The thought of her warm and soft and waiting there for him left him breathless. Just that she would want him with her. Just that she was thinking of him.

  Do you, Antonietta? Do you think of me? Dream of me? Always. I have since the moment you came into our lives. You humble me. I will be there soon.

  Byron shot into the sky, wings spreading wide as he took the form of an owl and circled over the sea, enjoying the way the moon spilled light on the choppy surface. He needed to feed. He was not completely healed, as he couldn’t afford to spend time in the healing earth when Antonietta was in danger. Even with Celt guarding her, Byron was uneasy separated from her.

  She didn’t have a clue what he was or what he intended. He was now used to the strange barriers in her mind and could easily maneuver around them. Antonietta wanted him, even accepted him, but she didn’t think in terms of a future. Not ever. It didn’t enter into her realm of possibilities.

  Spotting prey, Byron circled lower, a silent drop, eyes fixed on his quarry. As he settled to earth and reached for the man staring up at him with such shock, he smiled. Antonietta had a few surprises in store for her. Someone needed to shake up her tidy little world.

  He drank deeply, allowing the rush to hit him, allowed himself the feel, just for a moment, of absolute power. It would be easy to give in to the whispers calling to him if it weren’t for her presence. Antonietta would call him back as she had unknowingly with her music in the past. He wasn’t as near to the edge as most of the hunters. Byron rarely had to kill, yet the pull to feel absolute power was strong, even with knowing right from wrong.

  You’re feeling very sad.

  Her voice startled him. He nearly dropped his prey. Antonietta sounded so close to him. So concerned. Quite gently, he closed the small, telltale pinpricks and eased the man to the ground.

  A few moments ago you were so happy.

  What’s wrong. Byron? I can come to you if you can’t get here. Tell me where to meet you.

  Her voice, soft with concern, turned him inside out.

  I am coming to you. I was just thinking of my kinsmen, some sadly lost to us. Hurry. I’m waiting to see you.

  He took to the sky again, moving quickly toward the Scarletti palazzo. The rounded turrets drilled through the wisps of fog and clouds, a massiv
e castle of stone and secrets. A ripple of awareness touched him. Another of his kind shared the skies with him. Female. Familiar. The owl came winging out from around the tower and rushed him, feathers nearly iridescent. Eleanor! His sister, gone from him many years.

  Byron dropped down into the middle of the maze, signaling to his sister to do the same. He caught her in his arms, even as she shimmered into substance, dragging her close and burying his face against her neck. “How is that you have come to this place? I cannot believe that you are here, Eleanor. Let me look at you.” He held her at arm’s length, then pulled her close again. “I have not seen you for so long.”

  Eleanor hugged him back hard. “It has been too long, brother. You look so good, so strong and fit. I was so frightened for you. We were still too many miles away from you when we felt you go down. I collapsed. Poor Vlad had to attend me. I wanted him to leave me and go to you, but he said he would not make it before the sun rose. I am so grateful another of our kind was close. I did not recognize him when you showed us your mind. Who was he?”

  “I will admit I was grateful also. He was an ancient, with powerful healing blood. Dominic of the Dragonseekers.”

  Eleanor drew back from him. “A Dragonseeker?” Her hand went to her throat in a purely defensive gesture. “I have not heard that name said in a long, long while. It brings back the memory of the ancient wars.”

  “That is all a fairy tale, Eleanor,” Byron pointed out. “Much like the human stories of werewolves and vampires. No one has it right. They make it up as they go along. Maybe one or two people really saw a werewolf or a vampire, and they allowed their imagination to take flight, and the result is the silly stories they have now. I think much the same thing happened with our people and the stories of the wizards.”

  “I wish it were true, Byron, but the wizards were very real. Our races were close at one time, worked together for the good of the planet. The wizards were powerful and great seers. They studied magic and the things of the earth, much as we did. Many of our safeguards for protection came through their knowledge. Many of our people studied with them. Unfortunately, power can corrupt.” She smoothed back her brother’s hair. Touched his chest to assure herself he was alive and well. “I do not recall that Dominic had much to do with the wizards, but his sister did. She was incredibly talented…” Eleanor’s voice trailed off, and she stepped back to study him with her dark eyes. “You look fit, completely healed, and it is a miracle. You look quite different. More powerful maybe, yet happy.”

  “I have found her, Eleanor. At long last, I have found my lifemate. She is here, at this palazzo, the concert pianist, Antonietta Scarletti. She is an amazing woman.”

  Eleanor flung her arms around her brother’s neck again. “I am so happy for you. You must introduce us. Have you claimed her? Have you told our prince? When are you taking her home?”

  There was a small silence while Byron hugged Eleanor a second time, grateful he could feel the flood of love for her. Grateful he could look at her and feel. Antonietta had given him that gift. A priceless gift of emotions and vivid colors.

  “Byron?” Eleanor looked at him with all-too-knowing eyes. “You have not converted her.” She made it a statement, almost an accusation, “We need every woman. You know we need women desperately. And you have suffered for so long. Surely your lifemate wants to be with you.”

  Byron smiled, a wolfish smile, more a baring of his teeth. “She has the strange idea that we will spend time together, and then she will send me on my way.”

  Eleanor studied his face. Her brother had an edge to him that had not been there before. “What are you up to?”

  “Antonietta has to find her own way to me. She has lived a certain life, ruler in the palazzo, her family dependent on her. She also is safe there. It matters little in the palazzo that she is blind. Her life is set on a path, and she intends to follow it. She does not yet realize that her path is intertwined with mine. But she will.”

  “How long will you wait?”

  “For what? Antonietta is bound to me. She is in my care. I have made provisions for her safety, and I will find who threatens her. She is mine, in heart and soul. She just needs to come to terms with who she will be when she embraces her choice.”

  “Of course you will return with her to our homeland.” Eleanor made it a statement.

  Byron smiled at her. “It is good to see you. Where is Vlad? Surely your lifemate did not allow you to travel unprotected?”

  “I am not without my own protections,” Eleanor reminded. “Vlad is here, and we have Josef with us. He wanted to visit other countries and see something of the world. We thought it best that we travel with him.”

  Byron couldn’t stop the small step away from her as the horror of her words penetrated. “Josef?” The name came out a croak. “You have not brought that horrid child with you. Not here? Near the palazzo?”

  “Byron, he is your nephew.” Eleanor sank onto the curved marble bench seat and glared up at her brother. “What a horrible reaction.”

  Byron shook his head. “Benj is my nephew. I will be more than happy to claim him, but Josef is an altogether different matter. There is no blood between us.”

  “He is my son. I took him when Lucia died in childbirth. I love him no less than Benj. I know he can be difficult—”

  “Difficult! The boy is a menace. Lucia had no business having another child. She was so old, an ancient spending most of her days in the ground and hiding from the changes around her. She had no intention of living in a modern world. What was she thinking to try such a thing?”

  “She was thinking of the preservation of our people. Byron, you are being overly harsh, and it is so unlike you.”

  “I am not being harsh, Eleanor, only truthful. The boy has done nothing but get in trouble almost since his first step.”

  “He was orphaned, Byron. He lost his parents the very day he was born.”

  “Most of us lost someone, Eleanor, and he didn’t even know Lucia and Rodaniver. You and Vlad have been his parents, and no one could have loved him more. Lucia and Rodaniver lived in the past; they would have made that boy’s life hell had they lived, and you know it. Now he just makes our lives hell.”

  “Byron!” Eleanor twisted her fingers together. “He needs love and understanding. You should make an effort with him. Guide him on the right path.”

  “Why do I get the feeling there is more to this visit than luck? You did not just happen to come to Italy, did you?” His black eyes began to smolder.

  Eleanor looked away from him. “Despite what you say, Josef is your nephew, and I think you should take an interest in him. He wants to paint. Italy is a wonderful country to paint in. Benj was too busy and could not escort Josef. He still needs looking after, and since you’re here…”

  “No! Emphatically no! I cannot possibly take care of a child. And I don’t want him anywhere near the palazzo.” Byron shuddered visibly. “He wears his pants ten sizes too big. In fact, when you took him to see Mikhail, he stood right there in front of our prince and his lifemate, wearing baggy pants, a ring in his lip, nose, and eyebrow.” He shook his head. “I do not want to know where else he had one, but every time he opened his mouth, I saw something hideous attached to his tongue. And even worse, he wanted to perform for them, and you let him.”

  “He was only a young boy, Byron, and it meant so much to him.”

  “I prefer Mozart and Chopin, opera and even the blues, but not rap. What was that horrible song he made up? I still hear it in my nightmares. I believe he spat a lot and made strange sounds before he graced us with the lyrics.” Byron showed his gleaming white teeth, his incisors slightly prominent as if he could take a bite out of his nephew. “It was so shocking, I cannot, nor ever will forget the lyrics. In case you have forgotten, they went like this: ‘I’m the man, / The man you can’t see, An invisible man, you ought to fear me, / Fangs and cat’s eyes, / Your blood on my hands, /I come out at night when the moon rises high, I’m a blo
od-sucking fiend, a most fearsome sight.’ I particularly enjoyed watching the prince’s face when he sang the blood-sucking fiend part and the refrain of I want to suck your blood, blood, blood.’ “ Byron found he wanted to laugh at the memory, as he couldn’t those many years ago. “The only good thing that came out of that was it made Jacques laugh. I had not seen him laugh in years. It was the only reason I forgave Josef for such an obvious attempt to draw attention to himself.”

  “But Byron, he has such talent. Even then, and he was only a child, he was creative.” There was a small silence. Eleanor was exasperated with him. “He was only fifteen, and at that awful age. He is much older now.”

  “Do not give me that, sister dear. I heard he had taken to wearing all black, including a swirling black cape, and lying on graves in the cemetery with a group of his human friends. I heard he had so many rings in his bottom lip no one could look at him for fear of laughing.”

  “That is so unfair. Oh for heaven’s sake, all the children try things out. He was going through his Goth period, at least that’s what Vlad called it. That was years ago; he was only seventeen. You know by our standards, he is still a mere fledgling. He is your nephew, Byron, and he wants to visit other countries. It would not hurt you to show an interest in him. He needs attention.”

  “I do not care if he is a mere fledgling. The prince’s daughter was forced to take her lifemate as a mere fledgling, and she rose to the occasion.”

  Eleanor made a rude sound. “And you know exactly what I thought of that. How dare the prince sacrifice his own daughter’s childhood? It was an abomination. They deliberately tried to age her by sending her out on her own with only hidden guards to watch over her. She deserved a childhood. Mikhail has been around humans for so long, and Raven was human, so they they have forgotten our children are young for a much longer time. Fifty years, and they still do not have full power.”

  “We would have lost Gregori, our greatest healer, and ultimately, Savannah. You know that, Eleanor. All of you women were up in arms, but in truth, the prince had no choice in the matter.”