Dark Symphony (Dark Series - book 10)

by Christine Feehan

  Byron dragged her slacks down, stripping away her lace panties. “Keep your arms around my neck. Hold on, Antonietta. Hold tight.”

  She wanted to protest. She should have protested if she had an ounce of decency. Instead, she wrapped her arms securely around his neck and held on tight. He lifted her. Easily. As if she had no weight to her at all. “This is crazy. And too fast. How can I want you like this?” And she was much too heavy for acrobatic lovemaking.

  “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

  The catch in his voice destroyed her. She obeyed him, her body open and vulnerable to the invasion of his. Antonietta cried out as he pressed against her very core. Wave after wave of sensation rocked her. Rocked him. She could feel herself through his mind. Hot. Wet. Slick. A velvet fist wrapping tightly around him as he entered her. She thought she might have screamed with the sheer ecstasy of it. But it might have been him, calling her in her mind. Pleasure shimmered around her, over her, and through her. Through him. He moved, his hips surging into her hard. Deep. She rose up, using her strength, slid down the length of him with exquisite slowness, paying particular attention to how she made him feel.

  The breath slammed out of his lungs and he burned for her. Antonietta accepted her own power with a very feminine smirk and took the initiative. She began to ride him, using his mind to guide her, searching for the perfect move, her muscles milking and gripping strongly. It was heaven. Paradise. She didn’t want to ever stop.

  His hands massaged her buttocks in time to the wild ride, driving the passion up another notch, while flames licked from their toes to the top of their heads. Breath mingled, air disappeared, lungs burned. Nothing mattered but the waves of pleasure washing over them. The pressure continued to build. She could feel it like a gathering volcano in him. He could feel it like a racing storm in her.

  Antonietta suddenly tightened her arms around his neck, leaned into him, her teeth finding his shoulder as he plunged deep, dragging her hips downward to meet his body. Flames crackled and sizzled. Colors burst behind her eyes. Or maybe it was his eyes. It didn’t matter. His mind was solidly in hers, his body sharing hers. The earth around them rocked, rippled with life, exploded into a thousand pinpoints of light.

  Antonietta lay on his shoulder, unmoving, uncertain she could move. Wondering why they both weren’t a puddle of water on the floor. The most energy she could summon was to touch her tongue to the bite mark on Byron’s shoulder. She could feel the tiny indentation with her tongue. “I bit you.”

  “You do not sound sorry.”

  “I think it was in retaliation. I’m fairly certain you bit my neck the first time we made love.”

  His rumbling laughter caused an electrical vibration to sizzle through her body. Just that fast, it brought another orgasm. She rode it out, savoring every shudder. “I could just stay here forever.”

  “I would not mind,” he agreed companionably, “but we have company.”

  The door to the solarium rattled, stuck for a moment, then fresh air circulated through the room, taking the combined scent of their lovemaking and dispersing it immediately. Misters on timers began a soft spray of the plants.

  “Where are you?” Tasha demanded. “I swear they came in here,” she said to the captain. “Antonietta? Byron? Diego is here. You don’t mind me calling you Diego, do you?” Her voice was sultry with heat.

  Byron lowered Antonietta carefully to the ground, holding her until her legs stopped shaking enough to take her weight.

  “There’s her dog.” Tasha spotted Celt. “Antonietta hasn’t gone anywhere without that dog since she got him a few days ago. She’s in here somewhere. She loves the exotic plants. Over this way.”

  Antonietta stiffened, buried her face on Byron’s shoulder. She was completely naked and only a large leafy plant separated her cousin and the policeman from her. Byron’s large hands cupped her buttocks, pressed her tightly to him. They cannot see us here. Have no fear of discovery. He reluctantly let her go to drag her shirt over her head and settle her dark glasses back on her nose.

  Antonietta stood in silence and darkness while he retrieved her slacks. She jumped when his hand slipped between her legs, his finger pushing inside of her.

  I want to be alone with you,cara mia

  . I hate that we can never be alone. His finger stroked deep. Her highly sensitized feminine muscles convulsed around him. She clung to him while her body went up in flames again.

  Byron’s hair brushed her face as he leaned close to help her into her slacks.

  You are my lifemate, always in my care.

  He was fully clothed.

  I don’t think I can breathe. Carry me upstairs. Let’s run away together.

  His mouth settled over hers, a long, leisurely kiss.

  “What in the world is this?” Tasha picked up the package lying in the middle of the floor. There was a smear of blood on the brown wrapper.

  I fear it is too late, my love.

  Byron moved them so that they appeared together, walking around a giant potted palm, hands linked. Tasha found the package, and we need to know what is inside of it. We must reveal ourselves.

  Antonietta tried to appear calm and cool and not at all as if she’d been having wild sex only moments earlier. Laughter was bubbling up, a very unlike Antonietta characteristic. She hardly recognized herself anymore.

  “

  Grazie

  , Tasha.” Byron took the package right out of her hands and gave it to Antonietta. “I was not certain where we left that. Good evening, Captain Vantilla.” Byron bowed low at the waist.

  “Signer Justicano, its good you were there to rescue Signora Scarletti.”

  Tasha made a sound of annoyance. “Diego, didn’t you listen to a single word I said? What were you doing wandering the grove so late at night, Byron?”

  “Tasha, you go too far,” Antonietta said quietly. “I want you to stop. There is more at stake here than your petty jealousies.”

  Tasha’s breath hissed out. “Call it what you will. That man is dangerous, and I refuse to allow you get involved with him.”

  Byron studied her scarlet face. She was humiliated in front of the captain, yet she persisted in spite of Antonietta’s warning. It seemed at odds with her sense of self-preservation.

  Could she really be afraid for you? You’re the one who reads minds. She would know. If I push beyond her barriers, she would know I was there. I am uncertain if I could fog her memory enough to make it worthwhile. Who knows why Tasha does and says the things she does?

  Antonietta sounded weary enough that Byron swept his arm around her and dragged her to him, giving her shelter against the steady rhythm of his heart.

  “You do not seemed surprised, Captain,” Byron said. “Is this the first kill? You must tell us what you know.”

  The captain pushed his hand through his hair, a clear sign of agitation. “This is not the first person killed in this way.”

  “Do you mean to say you’ve known of this creature, and you didn’t warn everyone?” Antonietta was outraged.

  “It has been in the newspapers, signorina. We brought in the best trackers we could find. The cat has not been found.”

  “In the meantime, my cousin’s wife could have been killed. That’s completely unacceptable.” There was a soft whip in Antonietta’s voice. “I have employees who walk from the city to my home daily. I don’t want to lose any of them to such a hideous fate as a wild animal killing them.”

  “It doesn’t bear thinking about,” Tasha contributed with a shudder. “Marita had blood all over her. No wonder she collapsed.”

  “No one should be walking around alone at night.” The captain pinned Tasha with a steely eye. “There is no reason to be in the grove until this animal is found. I believe the gentleman we found is most certainly one of your grounds-keepers. Signor Franco Scarletti identified him.”

  “Oh, no.” Antonietta’s fingers curled around Byron’s, hung on tight. “One of ours? We must hire security
to escort our people back to their houses until this creature is caught.”

  “And this has been going on for some time?” Byron prompted, his voice a compulsion for truth.

  “Unfortunately, yes. In other areas for some time. Our first discovery was a young woman’s body by the sea with her throat torn out. We have plaster of the paw prints. It was identified as a jaguar, a rather large one. The general belief at the time was that someone had one of these cats as a pet, and it either escaped or, like so many others when the laws went into effect against exotic pets, it was dumped in the middle of the night.”

  Tasha sank into a chair. “Our grounds are extensive, the wildest country around, and little Vincente and Margurite play all the time in the maze. They were in such danger, and we never knew.”

  Diego put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I have three children at home. Madre mia takes care of them, and she is old and frail. I’ve given orders that they remain indoors, but the two oldest get away from her. I worry myself. I do know how you feel. The killings have been far between in a range of well over a hundred miles. We didn’t put it together until several months ago.”

  “When did this start around here, Diego?” Tasha asked.

  “The first body was found in our area nearly two years ago. We searched, of course, but nothing was found. There were two bodies found prior to that one, but it was thought they were dead and wild animals got to them. It took us awhile to put it together that one cat might be actually preying on humans.”

  “And what does your wife say to this? Why does she not stay with your children?” Tasha asked.

  The question was unexpected, and Diego answered truthfully before he could stop himself. “My wife did not want our children or a policeman for a spouse. She left after the bambina was born and does not want to see any of them again.” It was a painful moment for him, humiliation and anger shimmering in his dark eyes.

  “Poor little bambini, abandoned and unwanted,” Tasha said softly.

  “I want them,” Diego said adamantly. “They do not need a woman who will not love them.”

  “What is it?” It was one of the few things about being blind that made Antonietta crazy. She always had to wait for identification.

  “I am sorry,

  cara mia

  , it is sheets of music.”

  Antonietta sucked in her breath. Finally, they were in the privacy of her sitting room with the doors firmly locked. Tasha had settled in for the evening to entertain the captain, and with all the other duties, Antonietta thought she would never be alone with Byron. Curiosity was slowly killing her. That, and wanting to be alone with him.

  “My music? She was taking my music out of our home to give to someone else?” Antonietta’s body didn’t feel her own. Feverish. Needy. Incomplete. She moved away from Byron to keep him from noticing.

  “No. It is not yours. This music is very old. I am afraid to touch it. It could crumble in my fingers.”

  Antonietta went very still. Her hand went to her throat. “I know what it is. How did Marita get her hands on that? It’s kept locked in Don Giovanni’s private safe. No one but Don Giovanni has the code. At least they shouldn’t, and believe me,

  Nonno

  would never give away such a treasure. The existence of that composition is not even known outside our immediate family.”

  Byron leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs toward the leaping flames in the fireplace. “It is very valuable?”

  “Oh, yes, it’s valuable. It is genuine, the original work of the composer George Frideric Handel. As a young man, he visited Italy, and of course, he was a frequent guest here at the palazzo. Even then the Scarletti family had power and wealth and was interested in music, and he was an exceptional talent. No artist would turn down such an invitation. He stayed on and off during the three or four years he was in Italy. He left behind many notations and a journal. He also left sheets of music, of cantatas and operas, even oratorios. But our most treasured is a full opera composed by Handel for the Scarletti family. He was not happy with it. He said it lacked the fire of Italy, and he did not want it kept. Our family agreed it would never be for public use then or in the future. The Scarletti word is sacred. We have kept that vow to him for generations.”

  Byron whistled softly between his teeth. “George Handel. I had forgotten he stayed in Italy. It was only a short while. He left in 1710 for Hanover, as I recall, but left nearly immediately for London. His opera Rinaldo was produced the following year.”

  “You studied Handel?” She was shocked.

  Byron looked down at his hands, surprised he had made such a slip. “I liked his work,” he said carefully.

  “So do I. He returned years later, when he was looking for artists and performers. Did you know in his later days he was blind?” She arched her back, tried to relieve some of the pressure building inside of her.

  “I had heard, yes.”

  His voice wrapped her up in silk and satin. Antonietta shook her head. “I need to put the score somewhere safe. I’ll talk to

  Nonno

  tomorrow. He’s long gone to bed. I seem to be sleeping later and later every day and miss the activities.” She took the package from him, avoided his touch as she did so. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to put this in the vault in the passageway. I doubt Marita will find it there.”

  “Paul might.” Byron rose, a lazy, fluid movement. He sounded like a great jungle cat rousing itself from a warm fire. And it irritated the hell out of her. “I am coming with you.”

  She was already at the door to the passageway. The last thing she wanted was to be with Byron in such close quarters. “Just relax for a few minutes.” She did her best to sound calm. “It won’t take long.”

  “I do not mind. I wanted to get another look at the wall with all the carvings.” His body pressed close to hers. She could feel his body heat.

  Antonietta hurried forward, entering the labyrinth of tunnels without hesitation. Byron moved in his usual silent way, but she was all too aware of him. She could almost feel his muscles beneath her itching fingers. Erotic images danced in her head. She wanted him with every breath in her body. And he seemed so… unaware… uninterested.

  She wanted to shred the package in her hand, rip at something with her nails. Her shoes made noise on the ancient marble tiles. Her breath seemed overly loud. Her heart was pounding, and her mouth was dry. Antonietta counted silently to herself, making each twist and turn sharply.

  “Our history is very colorful.” She made every attempt to carry on a conversation if that was what he desired. A history conversation.

  Byron continued to prowl silently behind her. Breathing on the nape of her neck. Smelling good. Making his presence known by resting his hand in the small of her back. Burning right through her clothing. Branding her. Claiming her.

  “I know you studied the carvings in the wall. Did you decipher the very first entry? I would think the earlier entries would be fascinating.” Byron sensed her growing agitation. When he touched her mind, it was chaotic. There was no one thought. She was confused and angry. Brooding. Moody. Edgy. The gathering of a great storm. She was his lifemate, and whatever she needed he would provide. He was well aware she found the history of her family intriguing. He hoped to distract her for a time.

  Antonietta clutched the package tighter to her. “I spent some time studying the first bride’s entry. She wasn’t alone. Her husband did his share of carving also. I think it was his idea. I think he wanted his family to know the gifts he secured for them. He was very intrigued with the idea of shape-shifting. The earlier carvings are nearly all of shape-shifters. Women and even a few men changing to the jaguar. The earlier etchings are crude, of course, but they are detailed. I think they reveal more of the secrets than the later carvings.” She made herself breathe in the oppressive heat of the passageway. If only his breath didn’t tease the hair on the back of her neck, she might be able to think straight.

  “In th
e later, more modern days, was there any evidence of shape-shifting?”

  She rubbed at her itching skin and stopped directly in front of what appeared to be a solid wall. Byron reached past her to run his palm over the smooth surface. Her fingers brushed his, caught, and instinctively guided his to the three shallow depressions guarding secrets. It was an admission of trust, and he knew it even before she did.

  The wall slid noiselessly away to reveal the air-sealed vault. Obviously she knew the sequence of numbers on the keypad. She punched several buttons carefully. The door to the vault opened. There was no light. The passageway was pitch black, but Antonietta didn’t need light. She was at home in a world of darkness. Byron was impressed with her uncanny ability to know exactly where she was in her environment.

  “I didn’t see any. I think the blood is too diluted.”

  “Could one of your cousins be capable of shifting?” Byron posed the question without inflection.

  Antonietta went still, her hands hovering just inside the vault. “One of my cousins?” she echoed, the idea unsettling. “I can’t think that, Byron. That one of them would be this creature tearing the throats out of innocent people. It sickens me to even imagine such a possibility.”

  “The smell of the cat was inside the palazzo. It permeated your grandfather’s rooms. You say the sheets of music were kept in Don Giovanni’s private safe. If a shifter was looking for them…”

  She thrust the precious music into the vault and slammed it closed. “I don’t want to think a member of my family is capable of such cold-blooded murder.”

  “In the body of a wild predator, it can be very difficult to control the urges. It is said that some shifters do not even recognize their human side. And some animals are much more difficult to control than others.”

  Antonietta bent forward to lean her forehead against the vault in guilt. “I wanted to play the music.” The confession came out in a little rush. “If I hear music, no matter how difficult or intricate, I can play it, but I can’t see it. I had to ask Justine to read it to me. You can imagine how difficult it was for us to decipher the entire score between us, how long it took us. Don Giovanni knew, of course; he gave it to me, but I was to guard it so carefully. Each night I returned it to his room, but anyone could have seen Justine and me working together on it.”