She came out directly behind him and caught his head, and using the move she'd been perfecting since she was a child, she wrenched, breaking his neck. She left him there, riding the shadow to the back entrance to Lucia's Treasures. Using a low whistle to signal Enrica she was back and all was clear for them to come out, she studied the van partially blocking the alley about halfway to their destination. There was movement there as someone unloaded large quarters of beef and carried them into the butcher shop.
Emmanuelle knew she faced at least six assailants. They were waiting at the front and back of the alley, boxing them in. The street entrance would be the most dangerous because she had no way to get to the sniper they had on the roof across the street from Lucia's Treasures. That meant taking her group all the way down the alley past the Saldis' van. If the crime family had initiated this attack, that meant the van could hold more shooters.
Signora Moretti pushed close to her. "I'm a very good shot," she whispered. "I might act a doddering fool, but I'm not. No one is going to hurt you or anyone else while I'm around."
Emmanuelle loved her in that moment. She loved her home and every single person in the Ferraro territory because all of them would back her family and one another. They might have their idiosyncrasies but when push came to shove, they stood with one another. She took a deep breath and nodded. "Thanks, Signora Moretti, I think we're going to head down the alley toward the Saldis' van. We need to keep that van between the entrance and us at all times. There are more of the shooters at the entrance. They're working their way down the alley toward us."
She would have to get to the van first and clear it. If the Saldis were part of the attack, she'd confirm with her family and then try to kill anyone waiting to get them. "Enrica, keep everyone together, quiet, and moving toward the van. I'll get ahead and see if I can figure out just where the enemy is."
She didn't wait. They were running out of time. Emmanuelle stepped back into the deeper shadow that ran along the side of the building. At once the pull was there, a strong magnet dragging her into the tube, swallowing her arms and legs and torso. The tube was extremely powerful and she was moving fast. She caught sight of two gunmen making their way along the opposite side of the building, trying to angle around the van to see the back entrance of Lucia's Treasures.
She had to step out of the tube to keep from moving past the van, and that meant exposing herself to the two gunmen just for a moment. She took a breath and dove for the shadow leading under the van. Gunfire erupted. Bullets hit all around, skipping off the pavement, splintering brick and stone. She felt the bite and sting along her left leg and arm. She rolled, desperate to get away from the bullets.
Heavy boots hit asphalt. Valentino Saldi burst from the back door of the butcher shop, his gun roaring as he did so, providing covering fire for Emmanuelle. He reached down and yanked her to her feet, and then thrust her behind him. She cried out as a bullet slammed into her left shoulder, driving her away from Val and back against the wall. She nearly blacked out from the agonizing pain. Her arm was useless. There was no lifting it or fighting with it. No breaking necks. She swore, trying not to shed the tears swimming in her eyes. She'd never felt anything like that pain.
Val kept his body between hers and the gunmen. So much for thinking he was involved. He returned fire, pinning the two men down. She heard running footsteps as the other gunmen broke away from the entrance to the alley, hurrying to join in the firefight.
"Get inside Giordano's," Val ordered.
She shook her head, fighting back nausea. "Give me a gun." She could barely breathe through the pain. The bullet had gone right through her, but it had done a lot of damage along the way. She wasn't certain how much help she was going to be, but she could shoot with either hand.
"Damn it, Emme," Val snapped. "Who the fuck are these jokers?"
He fired off three more rounds and someone yelled. A body dropped. He'd scored two hits, one injured and one most likely dead. Lethal. That's what she needed right now.
Enrica and the others hurried up the alley, forcing Val to turn back to the firefight to cover them. The moment Enrica was close enough, she slapped a compress on Emmanuelle's wound. Fire raced down Emme's arm and to her belly, making it roll. She wasn't about to get sick in front of Val Saldi.
She took the gun Enrica handed her and indicated for the others to get inside the butcher shop. She was certain those inside had already called the police. Amo pushed Lucia and Nicoletta ahead of him and turned back with the shotgun. Signora Moretti stayed as well. The butcher, Berardo Giordano, stepped out carrying a gun as well. Emmanuelle felt a little hysterical. Her little village was the Wild West.
Val glanced over his shoulder, groaning as he saw the others. He didn't ask questions and he didn't order Emmanuelle inside again, but he stayed close to her, so close she could feel the heat of his body--and his anger. He reloaded, rolled to one side and snapped off two quick shots. The moment he did, Enrica fired as well. Emmanuelle took her time, waiting as Val's two shots hit their marks, one in the foot and one through the throat as the man hopped out into the open.
Enrica's shot took out one of the three men running toward them. Amo's shotgun boomed and Signora Moretti's smaller revolver spat. Everything tunneled for Emmanuelle. Shadows connected everywhere, the runners and those hiding unable to keep their shadows from connecting with the tubes. They had no idea she had an exact map to each location.
She glanced at Enrica. Enrica nodded. Emmanuelle stepped out from behind the safety of the van and squeezed the trigger as if she had all the time in the world. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Bodies dropped. She stumbled back, feeling faint. Val caught her around the waist and dragged her behind cover as return fire sprayed all around her.
The jerking on her body sent another black wave through her. Vision clouded. Bile rose. She was going to go down. Desperate, she caught Val's arm. "Get the others to safety." She choked out the plea. Her knees went weak and she found herself falling.
Val caught her up, cradling her weight in his arms. "Berardo, Enrica, keep them pinned down. Signora Moretti, I'll need you and the kid to stop this bleeding. Call an ambulance. Tell the police to step it up, we're taking heavy fire."
"Shooter on the roof on the main street across from Lucia's Treasures," Emmanuelle managed. She couldn't feel her body. It was one giant pain, but she had no real knowledge of where her fingers and toes were.
"Shut the fuck up, Emme," Val snapped. "I could strangle you right about now. What the hell was that? You trying to commit suicide?"
She would have smiled if she could have. Same old rude Val, even when she'd been shot. Every step he took jarred her body and sent more pain crashing through her. She had to clench her teeth to keep from vomiting all over him. She saw Nicoletta and Lucia as Val hurried past them, their faces white, eyes wide with shock when they saw the blood running down her arm and shoulder, soaking into her suit and covering Val's shirt.
"Here, Val," Claretta Giordano said. She pointed to a couch set up in the back room. She raised her voice. "Angelina Laconi! I need you right now." Angelina's parents owned the kitchen shop and she was a nurse. Her younger brother, Pace, was a senior in high school. Pace and Angelina hurried from the front of the butcher shop to the back as more shots were fired outside.
"You have to get out there, Val," Emmanuelle whispered. "And don't forget the one on the roof across the street."
Val placed Emmanuelle carefully on the couch. "I've got this. Your brothers should be showing up soon. They'll get the one on the roof."
"I think they're under attack as well," she said. "We can't count on them coming."
He frowned. "All of them? Someone's going after your family?"
She didn't take her eyes from his and she nodded. Waiting. Hoping. She saw the fierce anger in him covered immediately. He caught up his phone as he pushed the hair that was spilling onto her forehead back, his fingers surprisingly gentle. "I've got this," he repeated. "For once in your life
, let someone help you."
She didn't have much choice, but she kept the gun handy. Shockingly, she hadn't dropped it. He turned away from her, texting fast as he rushed outside. She knew he was checking with his father, making certain that Giuseppi hadn't ordered a hit on all of them. For the first time, she wished Val's cousin Dario, the man always acting as his bodyguard, was there. He'd keep Val safe and fight on their side just to do so--and he was fierce with any weapon.
"I can help," Nicoletta said, pushing past Lucia to get to Emmanuelle's side.
Angelina was tearing at Emmanuelle's suit. Claretta handed her scissors. Already the sound of sirens was loud in the distance. She heard running feet--more of the nearby business owners rushing to help. They were all coming. Everyone. Leaving their stores to make certain their neighbors were safe.
Then Giovanni was there, bending over her. "You okay, baby?"
She'd never been so glad to see her brother. "Shooter on the roof across the street," she whispered. It was so good to see him alive. She'd been so scared.
"I'll get him. Taviano's outside with the others."
Angelina all but pushed him away. There was no time to tell him Val had helped, that it couldn't be the Saldis. There was no way Giuseppi Saldi would allow his son to go anywhere without a bodyguard if he was going to war with the Ferraro family. Val might not know that, but she did.
She caught Giovanni's hand as he moved back to allow Angelina to work on the wound. "Anyone else check in?"
Giovanni shook his head. He wasn't about to tell her that Taviano and he had immediately left the scene, riding shadows as fast as possible to get to her. She was their only sister. It was ingrained in them to protect the women. She could produce riders. Nicoletta could produce riders. More than any others, they had to keep them safe. That was the reason they would use, if asked. The truth was, Emmanuelle was their beloved sister and they would protect her at all costs. She was every bit as good as they were at taking care of herself, but that didn't stop them. Emmanuelle would be furious if she knew they'd come for that reason.
He left his sister reluctantly, turning his back on the firefight happening in the alley. He had to get to the sniper on the roof. If Emme said he was there, then he was. He texted Stefano again, and then Ricco with the information that Emmanuelle had been shot and the attack was still going on. He didn't like leaving Nicoletta and Emmanuelle without a seasoned marksman in the room. Taviano and Enrica were outside. Val was as well. It would have been difficult to ask for help from a Saldi, but he would have done it.
He pulled Nicoletta aside, ignoring her wince and her instinctive retreat, trying to pull away from him. "Have you ever shot a gun?" he whispered.
She nodded. "Amo's been showing me sometimes."
The Ferraros should have been the ones to show her. They would have to address her training after they figured out who the hell was after them. He shoved his favorite weapon in her hands. "One's in the chamber. The safety is on. This is how you take it off. Leave it on unless you intend to fire it. You have a full magazine. Don't shoot unless you know what you're shooting at, but you protect yourself and Emme and Lucia. You got that? Don't waste time talking or warning. Just fucking fire if you have to. Understand?"
Nicoletta nodded solemnly and took the weapon from him. She slipped it under her jacket and went to stand up close to Emmanuelle. She didn't realize it, but she was already, to the neighborhood, identifying herself as a member of the Ferraro family. No one would question it.
Giovanni waited until everyone was watching Emmanuelle and the nurse. He slipped into the front of the butcher shop through a dark shadow thrown by the spinning fan light overhead. He made his way silently through the crowd that had gathered there. The shadow took him almost to the front door. He stood just inside the tube, watching out the window, his gaze quartering the rooftops of the buildings across the street. He was careful not to move even as he watched for movement or anything that would give the shooter away.
Across from Masci's, the deli where Francesca worked, up on the roof, he spotted the barrel of a rifle sticking out, just a few inches. The shooter was utterly still, was disciplined. Very disciplined. He kept his aim on the front door of the butcher shop. Not Masci's, but Giordani's. The shooter was in communication with the others. He knew the firefight was taking place in the alley. He also probably knew Nicoletta was inside with Lucia. If he was waiting for them, he would just have to be patient, wait for it all to be over, let everyone think they were safe and kill them as they left the butcher shop.
Giovanni studied the shadows outside. Two made it across the street, both shadows thrown from the position of the sun on the buildings. He would have to change shadows twice before he reached the rooftop. He couldn't get out the door easily without someone leaving or coming in. He waited not so patiently. Inside the mouth of the tube, he couldn't text his brothers or parents to see if they were alive. He mostly worried about Ricco. His brother had sounded the alarm, which meant he hadn't been taken by surprise, but if this was about him, then he was most at risk.
Three men rushed up the sidewalk toward the butcher shop. He recognized Benito Petrov and his son, Tito, along with Tito's nephew, Orlando. Giovanni waited, timing it just right. The moment Benito threw open the door, he stepped out of the tube into the next one. The pull was strong and fast. He ripped past the three Petrov men and out into the street. The switch came up fast and he hopped from one shadow to the next with ease, hoping the shooter was so focused on the butcher shop that he hadn't seen the momentary flash of Giovanni's body moving between shadows.
The shadow tore his body into pieces--or that's what it felt like--as he went across the street and up the side of the building. He ran across the roof, staying low, studying the next building. It had a flat roof. He could chance jumping, or he could go down and back up the other side. Jumping would be faster. If he landed in the shadow, the only one he could spot thrown by a large industrial fan on the roof, the shooter wouldn't see him even if he turned his head. That was a big "if."
Giovanni took the chance. He leapt from the tube and landed just inside the other shadow. Taking a breath, he went still, gathering himself. The shooter looked back over his shoulder, his gaze moving around the roof, noting everything. Nothing was disturbed, not even the dust and dirt on the ground. Satisfied, the sniper turned back, once again putting his eye to the scope, his finger on the trigger, just waiting for the one shot he wanted.
Giovanni took a breath, let it out and emerged from the shadow right behind the sniper. He caught the man's head in his hands, positioning his own body perfectly for the kill.
*
Saldi men were everywhere. Giuseppi had sent an army to protect his son. Val, Enrica and Taviano had already wiped out those in the alley, although Signora Moretti was insisting she'd killed one of them. Possibly two. When Taviano looked at the thickness of her glasses, he was certain Val and he were very lucky she hadn't killed them.
Taviano had a bad, bad feeling in his gut. He'd learned never to ignore that warning, and the moment it was confirmed that all attackers were down, he turned and ran back down the alley to the entrance of Giordano's. Emmanuelle hadn't looked good. He hoped his radar wasn't going off because of her. He heard footsteps running behind him, glanced over his shoulder as he yanked open the door and recognized Val Saldi. Great. Half the Saldis followed, including Val's bodyguard and cousin, Dario.
Shaking his head, Taviano bent over Emmanuelle. "Got half the enemy right in this room, bella. Probably thanks to the prince's fixation with you." He whispered it to her, but he was really inspecting every inch of her. Her shoulder looked bad. Painful. She'd need an orthopedic surgeon, but the wound wasn't life-threatening. He looked around, his uneasiness growing. "Where's Giovanni?"
"Shooter across the street," Emmanuelle whispered back, her voice hoarse. "On the roof."
She hadn't even gotten upset over him calling Val "prince," or him saying their enemy, a family with a long-standing
feud against them, had a fixation about her. She was hurting bad and that was more than worrisome.
He glanced to the front of the shop. He just couldn't shake the feeling. "Has Ricco checked in?" He was already moving. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stay in that room with the smell of his sister's blood and the sight of her beautiful face twisted in pain. There were others in the front of the shop, his people, but he couldn't stay there. He had to go. Be somewhere. The feeling was so urgent, he nearly caught a shadow right in front of everyone. At the last minute, he took off running again out the back door.
The moment he was alone, he caught the first shadow leading up over the roof. As he was hurtled along, he searched the buildings across the street he was heading for. He saw his brother coming up behind the sniper. Something else. Something he was missing. Then he saw it and his heart stopped. He jumped from one shadow to the next, desperate to get there before it was too late--already knowing it was. Heart in his throat, he gained the roof where his brother stalked the sniper.
"Shooter, shooter!" he shouted. "Move now!" He hurtled himself across the roof, yelling at Giovanni as he did so.
Giovanni had already applied the pressure necessary, snapping the neck even as he turned toward the sound of his brother's voice and then dove. There was no cover, only the shadow, and it was several feet away. A bullet tore through his left thigh, dropping him to the rooftop just a foot from his destination. It hurt like a mother, and blood geysered up like a fountain.
Taviano reached out and yanked both of his brother's arms, dragging him into the shadow as a second bullet tore through Giovanni's calf. Taviano wrapped his arms around him and slid through the tube, gaining the necessary speed. The sniper above them, shooting from two buildings away, peppered the shadows as if he knew they were using them to escape.
Giovanni bit down hard to keep from screaming. He tried to apply pressure to his leg, but the magnetic effect of the tube was too strong to do anything but let it take him. Blood flew all around them, leaving a trail and coloring Taviano's shirt red. It didn't stop his brother; Taviano took them right to the front door of the butcher shop. He halted, shifted Giovanni to his shoulder, yanked the door open and rushed inside.
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