Shadow Flight (The Shadow Series)

by Christine Feehan

  He didn’t use his hands. He didn’t in any way act possessive, when he was all about possessive. He was born for this woman. His soul matched hers. Fit hers like a key. His body was made to pleasure hers. He knew it as surely as he knew he was a Ferraro. Still, he was careful, because Nicoletta had to know she was safe with him, especially when they came together in their bed, no matter how they came together.

  He lifted his head, kissed the red mark he’d made and then brushed another kiss across her upturned lips. “Good morning, tesoro. You’re irresistible with the light shining on you that way. And it really isn’t all that early. It’s close to noon. You take a shower while I see what I can find us for breakfast.”

  Nicoletta touched the mark on the curve of her breast with her fingers. “She’s going to come here. Eloisa. She’s probably already on her way.”

  “No doubt.” He couldn’t look away from the way her fingers held his mark to her, almost as if she were protecting it. Then she stroked a little caress across it. His heart reacted with a strange jerk.

  “I’m a grown man, Nicoletta. She can’t very well come here and order me back home or threaten to cut me out of the family fortune. First, I’m independently wealthy, and second, she can’t cut me out of the trust. Stefano is in charge of the riders and he is head of the family. She has no control in my life and hasn’t since I was ten.”

  He realized that was true. He had turned to Stefano for everything, cutting out his parents, and Eloisa and Phillip had allowed it. If Stefano had noticed that he shouldered more responsibility in the raising of Taviano, he never said so, but then he wouldn’t.

  “What do you want me to do when she gets here?”

  “I’m not certain yet,” he said honestly. He didn’t know. “I believe Eloisa is ashamed of the choices she’s made over the years. I’ve had a lot of time to think about things. She hasn’t been able to look at any of her children since making her decision. She grew colder and pulled away from all of us. Maybe she loved Phillip, and all she had left to her was riding shadows, because Phillip didn’t love her. He didn’t love any of us. He was selfish and vain. All he seemed to care about was other women. He used shadows to have affairs, further twisting Eloisa into a bitter, lonely woman.”

  Nicoletta leaned her chin into the heel of her hand and stared up at him with her large dark-chocolate eyes. Last night she had wanted to hunt Eloisa down; this morning, there was a small hint of compassion in her eyes. His warrior woman could definitely be a rider. She would learn to balance the need for vengeance with the will for justice.

  “The death of my youngest brother, Ettore, really separated her from everyone. He was born premature and very fragile, his lungs weak and his body unable to deal with the terrible toll the shadows took on the riders. Stefano warned our parents repeatedly that Ettore shouldn’t be a rider, but imperfection was never tolerated in the Ferraro family. Phillip just didn’t care enough to bother, but Eloisa was fierce about our reputation, and she believed that Ettore simply needed to work harder to bring his body to maximum physical perfection. Others had done it, and so could he. He died in the shadow tube, and Stefano has never forgiven her. More importantly, she has never forgiven herself.”

  “It’s so sad. All of it. On the outside, so many people envy what the Ferraros have, yet no one really knows what other people go through, do they?”

  Taviano shook his head. “I think Eloisa has always felt alone. My grandparents really loved each other. And they loved us. But they weren’t quite so wonderful with their children as we’d all like to think. They were so wrapped up in each other they ignored them, leaving them to be raised by a series of nannies and then shipped off to families in other countries to be trained.”

  “The traditions Eloisa followed.”

  He nodded. “She didn’t find a partner, so they arranged a loveless marriage for her. Sadly, she fell in love, but Phillip didn’t. He courted her and pretended, but he didn’t really care. For someone like Eloisa, that made it all the worse. I’m certain she felt a fool. I’ve often wondered if that’s why she objects so strenuously to Francesca. She can see Stefano loves her so much, and it scares her for him. The same with Ricco and Giovanni and now Vittorio. She doesn’t want them to suffer the way she did.” He shrugged. “Who knows what goes through her mind. I’ve spent far too much time speculating on her behavior.”

  He held out his hand to Nicoletta, and she took it immediately. He wanted her showered and dressed before Eloisa arrived—and he knew she would be coming. She was like a storm, and he felt the brewing already stirring up the air. He pulled his new wife to her feet.

  “I’m certain Eloisa interferes in our lives now to prove to herself she can’t have a relationship with any of us. She was particularly horrible to Francesca, who truly, in all of our opinions, is the kindest woman on the planet. I think Eloisa is terrified of being accepted. Of actually having a relationship and loving someone and having them hurt her. She doesn’t know how to relate to anyone anymore with the exception of Henry. He grew up in her family, and she spends all her time with him now, She’s different with him. He’s not a rider—he works with the cars. A good man and very loyal to our family.”

  Nicoletta was silent for a moment, and then she met his eyes. “She’s too ashamed, the way I was, so she’s self-destructive and pushes everyone away from her. That’s what you think, isn’t it?”

  “Not like you, piccola. I was thinking more like me. You aren’t anything like she is.”

  Nicoletta shook her head but didn’t react to his statement. “I’m going to take a shower. You go find us food. If she’s really on the way, I hope you realize that no matter how much compassion you have for her, what she did was wrong. You’re her son, and even now, you’re trying to find excuses for her. I’m not going to get over it that easily, and she’s going to be tearing into me. It might be a good idea for me to go for a walk after breakfast. That path in the woods looked really intriguing.”

  Was he making excuses for Eloisa? Had he been unconsciously trying to find reasons for his mother’s behavior his entire life? It was possible. Children did that. Was he still doing it? “You aren’t deserting me and leaving me to the wolves.”

  “At least you know Eloisa is a wolf, mio marito.”

  She flounced off toward the master bath. Within minutes he heard the shower come on and then a squeal and more water running and more squeals. Laughter followed. She definitely was adventurous. She hadn’t come back to ask him to show her how to use the various dials. She also hadn’t asked him for a map of the house. He liked that she at least identified him as her husband and that she hadn’t pulled away when he’d kissed her good morning and spent time with his mouth on her breast.

  Taviano dressed carefully, but in casual clothes. They would be meeting with Stefano again very soon. Stefano had already devised a plan to take down Valdez and his army of gang members. The Ferraros would prefer to take the fight to them, keep it out of their own territory if possible. They knew Valdez would send his men there, hoping to catch them unawares and get to Lucia and Amo so Nicoletta would come quietly with him.

  Benito Valdez didn’t really know Nicoletta. If she did come quietly with him, she would slit his throat the moment she got the chance. The man would never be able to go to sleep again. If the Demons did manage to get their hands on anyone Nicoletta loved or cared for, she knew the Ferraros would be coming through the shadows for them. She would just have to provide a distraction.

  Taviano looked around his kitchen. He loved to cook. Now, having his woman in his home, the kitchen was suddenly completely different. He opened the crisper and found the vegetables he’d ordered delivered for their morning breakfast. He began quickly grilling them for omelets.

  Nicoletta came into the kitchen looking beautiful in a light blue blouse tucked into a darker blue flowing skirt he was certain Lucia had chosen. A wide hand-painted leather belt cinched her small waist. The outfit was classic Lucia’s Treasures and looked a
s if it could be worn on the streets of one of the smaller villages in Italy or in New York and fit easily into either place. That was the beauty of Lucia’s fashions.

  “Something smells delicious.”

  “Coffee’s on.” Taviano indicated the pot in the corner of his workstation. He was already working on his second cup.

  “I love the way coffee smells first thing in the morning,” she admitted. “And don’t you love the sound of those birds?” She did a little spin and then poured the coffee into a cup before going to stand beside the open door. The screen was in place to keep insects out, but Taviano loved the sounds of the birds as well, especially when he was cooking.

  “Sometimes I play music, but most of the time, I just listen to the birds and the frogs, although they only sound off if it’s early or right after a rain.” He indicated the smaller table inside the rounded alcove. He preferred that space to eat breakfast unless he was eating outside.

  He turned his head toward the front of his house. “She’s here.”

  “How can you tell? There wasn’t a car.”

  “She used the shadows. Feel the difference in the energy, Nicoletta.” He kept his voice low. “You can always feel an intruder. Our home has a specific energy. A particular set of notes to it. Call it a vibration. Once you get it, you’ll know when one note is jarring or out of place. Our family never jars, not even Eloisa, but the notes play differently.”

  Nicoletta didn’t argue or act like he was crazy. She didn’t even lift an eyebrow at him. Instead, she nodded her head, frowning a little. Concentrating, as if listening, or trying to feel what he was explaining to her. She reached out and touched her fingertips to a shadow and then threaded her other fingers through his. At once, the jolt of their connection hit them both hard.

  Taviano hadn’t expected their combined energy to be so potent. He should have. Their power was growing, so the sexual component between them had to be as well. Sex, power, their minds merging; the connection was so strong, just their fingers threaded together nearly pulled them from their chairs into the thin tube she had placed the tips of her fingers into.

  He used the strength of his body to hold them in place. “Breathe. Use the meditative breathing.”

  Nicoletta heard him, although he spoke in a mere whisper. She began immediately, matching her breath to his. He could feel his mother getting closer, the weight of her disapproval obvious with every step she took. Her dark censure sank into the flooring and spread through the house like doom, moving ahead of her.

  “Feel her? She’s close to us now. In the hall.”

  “Yes.” Nicoletta breathed the word back to him. There was triumph in her mind. Excitement that she could feel the energy vibrating through the house, even though it was negative energy.

  Nicoletta pulled her fingertips from the shadow and picked up her fork. She let go of Taviano’s hand and casually pulled her legs up under her skirt as Eloisa walked into the room. Taviano had seen her do that so many times, tuck her legs onto a chair in tailor-fashion, making herself smaller. It had never bothered him until now, until this moment when his mother had entered their home and he wanted Nicoletta to realize that Eloisa was in Nicoletta’s territory, not the other way around.

  As always, his mother looked elegant. There was no other word for Eloisa. She might storm into a room like a wild tornado, but she commanded it and drew every eye. She was tall and beautiful, timeless in her beauty. Her hair was still thick and dark, streaked now with silver, but classy, as if she had been kissed by the sun. When she walked in and the morning sun hit her, she looked as if she might have wings. He knew that look was very deceiving.

  “Good morning, Eloisa.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Ferraro,” Nicoletta added.

  Taviano wished he was sitting next to his bride instead of opposite her. Her voice was soft and musical, but just that little bit hesitant, and he knew his mother would catch that, chew her up and spit her out. If he had been sitting close, he could have shielded his bride, put his arm around her, at least protect her a little with his larger body.

  “I despise being called that,” Eloisa hissed, glaring at Nicoletta.

  “What would you prefer I call you, then?” Nicoletta asked.

  Eloisa put her doubled fists on her hips and leveled her cold gaze at Taviano’s wife. “I would prefer that you didn’t speak to me at all.”

  Before Taviano could reprimand his mother, Nicoletta nodded. “I would prefer that as well, but in my home, which is here and, obviously, with Lucia and Amo, you can do your best not to be rude or don’t bother coming around. Outside of either place, we’ll agree I won’t speak to you and you don’t speak to me.”

  Taviano could barely keep the grin from his face. His woman was no shrinking violet. She might not want to be rude to Lucia’s friend, his mother, but she wasn’t going to take Eloisa’s bullshit anymore, not after his revelations.

  The color drained from Eloisa’s face. “How dare you speak to me like that?”

  “Why? Because of your age? What have you ever done to earn my respect? Not one single thing. You haven’t shown any compassion toward me and what happened to me, but why would you when you couldn’t show it to your own child? You don’t have to like me, Eloisa. In fact, I don’t care one way or the other if you do. But you aren’t going to be rude to me in my own home. You aren’t going to be rude to me in front of Lucia and Amo anymore because it makes them uncomfortable, and when you leave, Lucia cries. You’re bitter and angry because you made very bad choices, and you refuse to stop making them, as if somehow that’s going to justify what you did. Here’s a news flash for you.” Nicoletta leaned forward, staring her mother-in-law straight in the eye. “There is no justification.”

  Eloisa’s face changed from icy hauteur to sheer hatred. She actually shrieked, her hand flashing out, fingers curved into a claw, long nails like hooks slashing at Nicoletta’s eyes. The sound of Taviano’s hand connecting with her wrist was loud as he slammed his mother’s arm away from Nicoletta, who had turned just enough and shockingly fast so that the claw barely missed her face. He’d hit his mother’s arm hard, so hard he was afraid he had bruised her at the very least, maybe even cracked a bone. He hadn’t had time to soften the block, fear for Nicoletta uppermost in his mind. Eloisa looked as shocked as Taviano felt. He’d never seen his mother lose control. She could have blinded Nicoletta.

  “I’m sorry,” Eloisa whispered, cradling her arm. “Really, Taviano, I don’t know what got into me.”

  “Let me look at your arm.”

  She shook her head and stepped back. “It’s all right. It was a mistake coming here. None of you listen anyway. You do what you want. What Stefano thinks is best. He always thinks he knows so much more than I do.”

  Nicoletta got up and went to the freezer without saying a word. Taviano pulled a chair out at the table and got his mother to sit. His woman handed him the ice pack as she sauntered back to her chair, not even pausing so that Eloisa didn’t seem to notice. He wrapped the pack around his mother’s arm.

  “We listen to you, Eloisa. Even Stefano listens. We’re loud and we argue, but we take what everyone says into consideration. It’s a generation thing. We’re noisy. In the end, we do what’s right for the family.”

  “Do you? Are you certain of that?” Eloisa asked.

  Taviano picked up his cell and texted Henry, the man who had taken care of their family the longest. He’d been in their lives as long as he could remember. He loved cars and kept theirs in perfect running order. He seemed to love Eloisa no matter how she acted. He would bring a car out to the estate to take Eloisa back. Taviano didn’t want her riding the shadows with an injured arm.

  He poured his mother a cup of coffee and added cream. She never took sugar in her coffee or tea, but always took cream. “Would you care for an omelet?”

  He glanced at Nicoletta to see if she was eating. She hadn’t been eating very much lately, and to him it was worrisome. Her nightmares tended to co
me in bouts, and he’d noticed patterns. She often stopped eating for days before the nightmares became severe. She was pushing the food around on her plate.

  Eloisa shook her head. “No, I ate earlier. I had some reports to finish and send to your aunt and uncle. Taviano …” She hesitated. “I thought we put all that behind us. You’re a grown man now.”

  Nicoletta sat up, her back ramrod straight. Taviano had to find a way to silence her. She was furious all over again. There was no way to “put it all behind them.” His mother couldn’t understand that. She never would. She didn’t want to understand it. He saw no reason to have it out with her.

  “Where are you going with this, Eloisa? Just come out and say it. You’re not one to beat around the bush. If you have something to say, just tell us.”

  “If you bring this up now, even after all these years, you know your brother. He’ll lose his mind. We already have enough to contend with, thanks to …” She trailed off and studiously looked out the window to the beautiful view of the woodlands and brush. “We just have enough going on right now without your brother getting crazy. I don’t know why you felt it necessary to tell her anything at all …”

  “You mean share my past with my wife?”

  Eloisa flinched. “Really, Taviano? Your wife? Who is she really? Do you even know?”

  “Yes, Eloisa. Like you, I did my homework. Stefano, you, the entire Ferraro family, from the lawyers to the Archambault family, no doubt, investigated her lineage.” Taviano couldn’t keep the sarcasm from creeping into his voice.

  He took several deep breaths to try to keep his temper from flaring. He wanted his mother safe, and that meant keeping her there until Henry arrived with the car. “Seriously? You know damn well who her mother was. She was Leora Aita, from a very respected family that in the old days, long before they were stamped out by the Saldis, produced riders. A few of the Aitas escaped that massacre, but no one heard of their children producing riders after that tragedy. Leora married Asce Archambault, a cousin of the riders of France. He died when Nicoletta was two. I know you have this information, Eloisa.”