Shadow Reaper

by Christine Feehan

  She closed her eyes to block him out but at once she heard the cries of pain. The screams of a woman. A man's voice as he died. Images rose, the crack in the closet door. Her arms around her baby brother. Her hand over his mouth to try to keep him from crying and giving their hiding place away. The streaks of blood running like dark shadows across the floor.

  For a moment she couldn't breathe. It was all too real. All too close. She kept the door closed on her persistent nightmares, but now she was bringing it all to the surface and she couldn't go back. No matter what, there would be no going back to her other life.

  "I have dreams of being locked in a closet when I was a child. I have nightmares about it nearly every night." He would hear the truth of that if all the rumors about his family were true. It was said one couldn't lie to a Ferraro, so she had no choice but to share her memories when he asked.

  He removed the ropes and massaged her wrists, looking for marks on her skin. There were none, which didn't make her as happy as she would have thought. Belonging to him would be incredible, but he wasn't a one-woman man, and she would never accept less.

  Ricco stepped away from her, coiling the rope easily in his hands without looking at it, proving it was an extension of him. "I will require you at all hours of the night. I don't sleep very well and I want to be able to practice my art anytime the mood strikes. I'm compensating you well for your time. You'll have your own rooms. During the time you're with me, you will have no other relationships. I made it clear in the ad that if you were married or seeing someone, not to apply."

  "I'm not," she said.

  "You have only to sign the papers. Read them carefully. My lawyer drew them up and he's very, very thorough. I think we'll suit each other, but I want you to be happy with the arrangement."

  He was waiting and she had to answer. Take that last irrevocable step. She would have her own room, her own place where no one could get to her. She would be able to think without panicking. She'd do whatever was necessary, but it had to be the right thing, no mistakes. What she was doing was very, very dangerous, but she had no choice.

  She took a deep breath and nodded. "I think this arrangement will suit me just fine."

  "How soon can you move in?"

  "Immediately. I don't have much. Just my personal clothes and a few items."

  "I'll give you the address and a key."

  It was done. She had gotten the position when all odds seemed stacked against her. She didn't smile because the consequences were too severe, but she was elated. She had stepped on the path she needed to be on.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Ricco paced across the floor with the restless energy that always marked him from his brothers. He could be utterly still when needed, but most of the time he was in motion. He trained hard and he worked and played harder, but that energy inside him never quite left him alone. He was aware of Francesca casting him little anxious glances. His beautiful sister-in-law, the true mother of the lot of them now. She'd taken them all on when she took on Stefano.

  She'd made the monstrous penthouse at the top of the Ferraro Hotel a home. How she'd transformed it, he had no idea, but it felt welcoming where before it had been cold. She was everything, in Ricco's opinion, his brother needed. Soft when she needed to be, and tough as nails when Stefano got out of hand--which was often.

  He sent his brother a quick look. Stefano, as always, was still. He simply waited for the explanation of why Ricco had called an emergency meeting. He sat on the leather couch, a drink in his hand, regarding Ricco thoughtfully. It was impossible to think one could put anything over on Stefano, nor did Ricco want to try. This was too important. On the other hand, Stefano hadn't been blowing smoke when he'd informed Ricco he would do anything to save him.

  "What's up, bro?" Giovanni asked, throwing himself into one of the wide, very comfortable armchairs. He was the last to arrive. "I had to cancel a date tonight. This had better be good." He grinned at Ricco, but his eyes were worried.

  Ricco looked around the room at his family. They were all worried. The only one who didn't really show it was Stefano, and he was the most worried of all of them. He hadn't taken his eyes from his brother, not from the moment Ricco had entered the penthouse.

  He took a breath and turned to face them. Emmanuelle and Francesca would be his allies no matter what. Possibly Taviano. Stefano would be a fight. The others, he wasn't certain. This was the most important battle of his life and he had to win. If he lost . . . he was lost. That was what he had to convince Stefano of. If Stefano sided with him, they all would, and they'd help him. God knew, after all the wild things he'd done privately and publicly, he would need the help.

  He stalked across the room to the bar and poured himself a Scotch on the rocks. Tossing it back without tasting it, he turned and faced his family. "I found her." He announced it quietly. He didn't raise his voice because he never had need to, but there was a part of him that was filled with exhilaration, so much so he could barely contain it.

  Stefano put his drink down and leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Ricco's face. Never blinking. Emmanuelle and Francesca exchanged a long look and then both broke out into smiles. Giovanni, Vittorio and Taviano all stared at him without comprehension.

  "Found who, bro?" Giovanni asked.

  "Her. The one. She just walked in at the last minute. Emilio and I were giving up. I wanted to throw all the applications into the fire and then she walked in. She's a shadow rider. Her shadow reached out and connected with the shadows in the room and then hit mine. It was a little like being drunk only way, way better." He wasn't about to tell them the connection had been so strong that she'd given him a permanent hard-on, but he was certain Stefano knew all about that. He'd found Francesca.

  "Just because she's capable of being a rider doesn't mean she's your woman," Vittorio cautioned. "There's more to it than that."

  Ricco nodded and pressed his hand to his chest. "She walked in and asked if she was too late, and I felt that note press into my chest and unlock something chained up in me. I don't even know how to describe it, but from the moment I saw her, and heard her, I knew. I feel different. For a long time now I haven't felt anything for a woman, not even desire."

  There was embarrassment and shame in confessing that to his brothers. They thought he was the stud of the century. Vittorio gave a small snort of derision and Giovanni coughed, nearly spraying his drink everywhere.

  "No, it's the truth. Nothing and no one excited me anymore. All the games, they didn't work." He didn't dare look at Stefano. He was too silent. Too observant.

  "How about the Lacey twins?" Taviano asked.

  He shook his head. "Nothing. Then she walked in and I haven't been able to get a moment's peace. It's not going to be easy living with her in my house and trying to seduce her slowly."

  Vittorio laughed. "That shouldn't be a problem for you, Ricco. I'll take bets you get it done in less than a week."

  They all laughed. Happy for him. All but Stefano. He kept watching him. Waiting. Ricco had to convince him that this was the real thing and that he needed it more than he needed safety. More than anything else. He wouldn't survive without it--without her.

  He put the glass down on the sideboard and looked directly at his older brother. "You were right, Stefano. I might not have caused that accident, but once the casing cracked I didn't do a thing to try to prevent myself from going into that wall. I'm tired. So damn tired. I didn't feel there was anything or any way out for me. The work kept me going, but I don't sleep and that was beginning to affect the job."

  Vittorio and Giovanni glanced at each other, but Stefano kept watching him, unblinking, knowing there was more. He always knew.

  "I need this woman. It isn't just about wanting her, and I know that's wrong. I know it should be about want, not need, but I'm not going to make it without her." Stefano had to know it was that bad. Admitting it didn't make him feel very good about himself, but then he hadn't for a long, long time.

 
"You worried she isn't going to like your relationship with the Lacey twins?" Giovanni asked. He wasn't being sarcastic: it was a legitimate question and they both knew it.

  "No, she's not going to like that or any of the other stupid things I've done, but hopefully we can get past that with the help of all of you. Francesca and Emmanuelle, I'm really counting on the two of you to make friends with her."

  "Of course," Emmanuelle said.

  Francesca echoed her, nodding, but now both women looked worried. He couldn't blame them. He was never nervous. Never. He was still looking at Stefano, and by now, all of them were aware of it and they were looking at the head of the family as well. Stefano hadn't said a word. Just waited. Because he knew. He always knew.

  "What's wrong?" Francesca voiced what they were all wondering.

  "There's a host of small problems, ones that are of my own making, and it's up to me to convince her I'm worth taking a shot with, even though I've got the worst reputation in the world." He shoved a hand through his hair. "The biggest problem is that she's a shadow rider and I'm fairly certain she's here to kill me."

  Emmanuelle gasped. Francesca reached for Stefano's hand. He remained immobile, still as a statue, his gaze never leaving Ricco's. He held up his hand for silence when the others began to all talk at once.

  "You're positive she's an actual rider?" he asked, his voice strictly neutral.

  "There's no way to be positive," Ricco said. "She was too good at what she did. Acting nervous. I knew she was totally aware of me, that the connection between us hit her just as hard. I know when a woman wants me, and the physical attraction was definitely mutual. What woman wouldn't flirt just a little? She didn't. She has tremendous courage. She actually allowed me to tie her wrists. I could tell it was terrifying to her, but she went through with it. The pins in her hair were definitely not women's normal hairpins. Still, there's no way to be certain. The only thing I can tell you is that I just knew."

  "We know every family. If she's a rider, we'll know of her," Stefano said. "I can reach out . . ."

  He shook his head. "Wait. I need you to wait."

  "Why wouldn't she just kill you without ever showing herself?" Vittorio asked.

  He shook his head. "I have no idea."

  "Are you guilty of something we don't know about?" Stefano asked. "Something that would put you in the path of a rider?"

  A shadow rider carried out justice when the law couldn't. Always, always, they had to be certain, which meant a thorough investigation of the facts.

  "She would have to be one of the Archambault family. There is a female rider. They're the only riders allowed to go after another shadow rider family," Stefano said.

  "She's not French." Ricco took a breath. "I have to tell you. It's time, but Stefano, we have to be very careful, otherwise we're going to end up in a war and everyone will lose."

  He didn't want to tell them the truth of what happened in Japan, yet he did. It would be such a relief to get the entire mess off his chest. To know that his family would look over their shoulders instead of him guarding them night and day would be a relief. Telling the truth would be liberating in a lot of ways.

  "Start talking, Ricco." That was Stefano, all business.

  "The riders are different in Japan. When we train other riders, we welcome them as family and treat them as we treat one another. There, riders from other countries are looked down on--especially the ones from the United States. We're considered lazy and undisciplined."

  He didn't know if he was making excuses or just needing to find a place to begin. The entire sordid affair had been bottled up for far too long. Wrapped in guilt and fear for his family, he had stayed silent until he almost didn't know how to tell them what had occurred.

  "No matter what we did or how hard we worked, those of us who weren't from the families there were never acknowledged, not even during the tournaments. It pissed me off. I have a temper and I got into a lot of fights proving myself, beating the crap out of some of the boys from the host families. Of course, that just proved to them that I was undisciplined and not fit to be a rider."

  It was still painful, those memories. He'd trained harder than anyone else, and it hadn't mattered. "If I defeated the sons of the host families, if I beat their times riding the shadows, or in any way bested them, it was never acknowledged, but the boys were punished and the hatred and bitterness grew for all the other riders training, in particular me and one other rider--a female. You can imagine what it was like to be a female rider there where the women were supposed to wait on their men and be subservient to them. She was never considered as good, and the boys were mean to her."

  "What country was she from?" Vittorio asked.

  Just his voice was soothing. Vittorio, the peacemaker. Vittorio, the brother who always seemed to bring calm and sense in the middle of any storm.

  "That's the thing, she was from Japan. Right there. She was the daughter of a council member. I didn't stay with her family, none of the foreign riders did. Her mother had died and her father was a former rider, he didn't go out on any jobs anymore. Her grandmother was very mean and ugly with her and the other kids. She put our parents to shame."

  "Name," Stefano said abruptly.

  Of course he would get down to the facts immediately. Nothing was going to get by him. Nothing ever did.

  "Her name was Akiko Tanaka."

  Stefano nodded. "She came from a fierce line, but they're all gone now. She was killed in a car accident along with the last of that lineage, her father and grandmother. I think three other riders, sons of some of the best families there, died as well. One survived, but was in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. It was a horrible tragedy."

  Ricco shook his head. "None of them died in a car accident. I killed the three riders and put the remaining one in the wheelchair." He dropped the bomb right into the middle of the room. No one moved. No one spoke. They all just stared at him, shocked. There was absolute truth in his voice, and he knew they all heard it.

  He didn't take his eyes from Stefano. He loved his brother. He was mother, father and big brother all rolled into one. He was the family's measure of what it was to be a shadow rider, a Ferraro, someone to be respected. Killing other riders, especially young, untrained riders when they needed them so desperately, was the worst sin a rider could commit, so much so that it was forbidden and would bring a death sentence down on the perpetrator. Only an Archambault rider could bring justice to another shadow rider.

  "Ricco," Emmanuelle whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of horror and compassion.

  He didn't look at her. He kept his eyes on Stefano, waiting for judgment, waiting for condemnation. He should have known better.

  "You wouldn't have done so without a good reason, Ricco," he said. "What happened to Akiko and her family?"

  Ricco shook his head. There was no way to put himself in a good light. He couldn't spin it or leave out details. "There was a tournament that afternoon and Akiko defeated Nao Yamamoto. He was seventeen and considered the fastest of the shadow riders coming up in Japan. His family was extremely proud of him. According to everyone, he brought them great honor. But he was a terrible human being. He bullied everyone, including the boys who followed him. He had his own little gang. His buddies were seventeen and sixteen. If anyone ever slighted any of them, or in any way made them look bad, they would ride the shadows, go visit them and beat the holy hell out of them. They bragged to the rest of us that they visited girls they liked and did whatever they wanted."

  "Oh my God," Emmanuelle said. "I hope you reported them."

  "Several of us did the day before the attack took place, but the elders said it was merely boys bragging. That it wasn't the truth. We knew differently because we heard the truth when they were bragging. Nao and his pack beat the shit out of two of the other riders who reported them, and I was waiting for them when they came for me. All in all, I didn't do too bad against the four of them, and if I'm being strictly honest, Nao was hurti
ng when he went into that tournament."

  "Wait a minute," Stefano said. "I want you to be very clear on this. You reported what you'd overheard about these boys using their abilities to harm girls and beat up other riders and the council dismissed it as untrue?"

  Ricco nodded. "Women aren't treated nearly the same there as they are here. We know we need them for the riders to survive, but there, they are less than a man. Outsiders are treated the same. The council was comprised of the fathers of these boys. Had it come out that such a thing was going on, their entire families would have been dishonored. They're very traditional and old-school."

  "Honor among riders is traditional," Taviano said, "or at least I always thought it was."

  "If all the families were dishonored, and their sons were banned from riding, stripped of their abilities, the families would be left with nothing. I can't explain just how dire the consequences for them would be there. No one would acknowledge them or have anything to do with them. Cousins, anyone outside the riders would demand their last name be changed--" He broke off as it occurred to him that Mariko's last name couldn't have been the name she was born with.

  Giovanni had to be thinking along the same lines as he was. "Did any of these boys have siblings? A sister? Could your woman be related to one of them?"

  Ricco tried to remember. As far as he knew, none of them had sisters. Or brothers for that matter. He shook his head. "That's why the way they treated Akiko really got to me. It didn't make sense when they needed female riders and there was one right there, not related, and they treated her like dirt. I didn't understand them at all, other than the fact that Nao was on a power trip. He kept bragging that even the Yakuza would fear him."

  "So this Nao went into the tournament already injured from the previous night when he and his little gang jumped you." Stefano redirected him, wanting to keep him on track.

  He nodded. "Akiko defeated him by such a margin there was no way the judges could pretend it was a tie or that she had in any way fouled. The trophy was given to her, and Nao was shamed. His father was furious with him and humiliated him right there in front of all of us. Even his own friends laughed at him. I knew he would try to retaliate."