I dismiss her perhaps too easily, focusing on the potential problems instead.
The two guys here are wolves. I’m used to dominating a room of them back home, having them all in various stages of arousal in seconds. These guys, however, don’t spare me anything but curious glances.
On a second sweep around the room, I catch the feel of mates – they’re all bonded, even the brown-haired Cinderella lookalike, though I don’t see her mate anywhere. I keep these thoughts to myself.
Nonna did always say to keep my aces under my sleeves, and my heart tightly defended.
“I’m looking for the man in charge,” I say instead, keeping my voice light, tinged just enough with worry. My performance wouldn’t win me an Oscar, but it’s enough to draw their full attention.
Even as they share a look, communicating in some unspoken undertones, I’m scanning the area. This place must have looked good before, but it’s a serious dump now like a storm has just passed through. And something about this group...
Focus, Monica.
“He’s busy,” the reply comes from Blondie, quiet up until now. Something tells me not to provoke her, even as the amber in her eyes glows a bit.
“It’s important.” I soften my voice. Forcing my way through them would be stupid and raise unwanted attention. “Family related.”
“Lucas has family?” The question comes from the muscular guy, and it’s enough to stun all of them.
Their gazes betrays them, shifting around the corner, and I get my cue. Whoever this Lucas is, he better be the one I’m looking for because I’m not in the mood for games. My good intentions go out the shabby door and without pausing for permission, I stomp to the back.
Maybe I have the wrong spot – or so I think. But, nope. Karma would be too kind. As I turn the corner and waltz in what’s left of an office, he grabs my attention.
Madre di Dio!
Lucas
“Need any help?”
Finn’s walked in, but I’m in no mood to talk if he’s here to smooth the waters. I focus on the boulders, and the strain of my muscles as I go about my task. It’s almost cathartic. Almost.
“Lucas, you have to talk to someone.”
I thrust another rock outside, the veins bulging in my biceps, and turn to him. “You want to talk? Bene. Dominic Konstantin – Kosta, or whatever the fuck he calls himself now – has disobeyed me for the last time. I made the mistake of not running it by you and Tristan the first time, but this time, I fully intend to go through with it. He will be gone from this pack before the sun sets tonight.”
“You don't mean that,” Finn says, trying to hide his panic. “Dom is as much part of this pack as everyone else. You've already thrown him out once.”
“Sì, and took him back. Stupid me.”
“If you throw him out, Lucrezia will go, too.”
I shrug. “So? It’s not like she needs our protection now.”
“How can you say that, after she just died on our watch?” Finn seems taken aback by my callousness.
Guilt runs through me, but I push it away, stomping it way, way down inside me. My faoladh friend frowns at me as if I’m a puzzle he can’t figure out, then he says, “How are you doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Controlling your emotions, hiding them from me.”
I turn back to the rocks. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
Finn takes a few steps closer, grabbing my shoulder. I shrug him off, getting in his face, barely holding back a snarl. Not that it makes him back off.
“Something’s wrong with you, mate. Ever since the fight, and now you want to go execute the last Reapers?”
The change of topic disarms me. I back off, shrugging and tossing another rock out the back. “And so?”
“It’s not you.” Finn pauses, as if struggling to find the right words. “You’ve spent all this time trying to keep peace in town, why go to the other extreme now?”
“Because morals are for weaklings,” I hiss, grunting as I toss another rock. “And I am finally ready to live up to my name.”
“What does that mean?”
I refuse to answer him. I’ve gone this long without telling them everything about me, there is no reason why I should reveal it all now.
Finn scowls. “Fine, don’t answer me. But, Lucas, think this through, will you?”
I throw him a dark glare, but something else catches my attention. A smell of cherries, and the click of heels on stone.
In walks a leggy, raven–haired girl that could have easily stepped off a magazine cover. One perfect eyebrow arches over an icy blue eye as she takes in the mess in my office. “I'm looking for Luciano Conti.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Finn turning to me, and I force my emotions down again. Only one person would call me by my real name, meaning she’s sent here by the monster from my past. “You found him,” I say evenly. “But I go by Lucas now.”
Finn asks softly, “Lucas?” It’s a question, a silent, What’s going on?
I know my expression is blank, perhaps too much so, as I speak. “Leave us.”
Finn hesitates, and I don't know how much my faoladh friend has sensed of my reaction. I can only hope he keeps whatever he did feel to himself.
My gaze narrows on the brunette the minute he’s gone through the door. She opened a flood of emotions, things I never thought I’d think about ever again.
Matteo. Francesca – Mamma. A past as buried as it is painful...
All that flashes in my mind when the woman bursts into my office. I’m no fool, and her scent is too easy to determine – she’s a wolf, and she’s got my father’s stamp all over her perfect body. A splash of fear, like cold water, hits me, followed by a rage so deeply ingrained in me it’s a wonder it doesn’t consume me. And yet, despite my inner turmoil, I manage to keep my regular neutral expression.
“And who are you?” I finally ask.
“Monica Delucci,” she says, swinging her hips as she walks to my desk, then takes a seat uninvited on what’s left of a chair. “Your parents sent me.”
Coldness sweeps through me at her admission, but I mask my emotions before they get the best of me. “Did they, now?”
Monica
Damn it, but they could have warned me what to expect!
Luciano Conti is nothing like I pictured. He’s gorgeous and fine as a dark angel, sure. But he’s also cold, and unsettling. And in control. I didn’t miss the way his wolf responded, that flash of interest quickly squashed as soon as he realized who I am – nor did I miss the pack outside of here. Clearly, I’ve walked in the middle of a warzone.
The question is, how much more chaos can I cause before Luciano – or Lucas, as he calls himself now – throws me out of here? I bite my lower lip, noticing his gaze drop to it. My instructions were clear. Ruin the life he built here, and force him to come back home. If I do, I’d be free, and Alessandro Conti would ensure it.
Only problem is, as I'm standing opposite Luciano, it takes all my will to ignore the hum of electricity between us. I’ve always been the one in control – always. And yet his dark gaze does something to my insides that makes me feel almost...shy.
Basta! Don’t be a fool.
In an effort to distract myself, I look around. “You’ve done well for yourself, Luciano. Your parents will be proud.”
A noise escapes him, and I meet his unnerving gaze just in time to catch a glimpse of amusement. Then he schools his expression once more. I’ve known men who are good at that, but he makes it into an art. He is a piece of art.
Focus...
“What was so funny?” He clearly doesn’t like my question. But it’s his words that unsettle me more.
“What’s funny, cara, is you keep mentioning parents as if I have two of them. My mother died years ago. Matter of fact, she committed suicide after my brother died in a failed deal – all thanks to my father. But surely Alessandro Conti told you all this, before sending you into the wolf’s de
n?”
His grin is nothing short of predatory. And that dangerous glint in his onyx eyes causes a low tremor to start in me.
Merda! He doesn’t know... And I’ve been had, that’s for sure. Only question is, how the heck do I get out of this now?
∞ ∞ ∞
∞ Scintilla ∞
“From a little spark may burst a flame.”
-Dante Alighieri-
Lucas
My fucking father. Certo. It took him the better part of two years, but he finally tracked me down at the most convenient time for him. Not that I plan to let any of this affect me. I’ve enough shit to handle here, without dealing with the past.
Time to squash this before it escalates, no matter how appealing this particular messenger looks.
“I guess he didn’t,” I mutter and contour the desk to stand in front of Monica. She’s gorgeous, I’ll give her that. Long legs I could see wrapped around me, a pouty mouth and eyes men have probably died for.
The grey sweater falls off her shoulders, exposing creamy skin, and the skirt she has on is just short enough to pull attention to those limbs. The way she’s sitting, back straight, hair onto one shoulder, makes her look almost regal. And those shades of blue, those long lashes – another day, another place, I would’ve been interested.
Not now.
I know what she is – Alessandro’s fixer. Even when I was there, my father had one under his wing to go and allure the men, have them entranced until he struck like the snake he is. More often than not, they were witches of some sort, which has me wonder if Monica has some hidden powers, too.
If she does, it makes her doubly dangerous. Not that I’ve ever run away from such a thing. Unfortunately for Alessandro, the young man I’d been is gone, and I’m not a scared child anymore.
“I...” Monica licks her lips, then starts again. Whether it was unconscious or meant to draw my attention, it works. “I did know about your mother, Francesca. Mi dispiace, Luciano, I owe you an apology.”
A beat of silence drops between us. Her soft-spoken words unsettled the biting response I’d prepared. Instead, I hold her gaze and nod. “Continue.”
“I shouldn’t have said parents, but the fact of the matter is your father did, um, start a relationship with someone else. It was a slip of the tongue on my end. I...didn’t realize you were unaware, and wasn’t told.”
“Hmm.” Of course he did. Not that the bastard was ever faithful to Mamma to begin with. Annoyance runs through me, and I shake it off. “Hate to break it to you, but unaware is a way of life with Alessandro.”
“Is it?” Her demeanor changes, and a slow smile spreads on her lips. “I find him to be quite accommodating.”
Mm, I bet. I wonder if she’s already part of his harem, or just on his radar. Even when my mother was alive, Alessandro did not lack for female attention.
Monica uncrosses and crosses her legs again, drawing my attention to her commando boots with spiked heels. Her manicured nails start tapping a beat on her knee. At first, the noise is nothing out of the ordinary, only background interference. But the more she does it, the more it drags my attention, until my entire focus is on the heady drum of her fingers, on the long expanse of skin turned rosy by the chilly air, and the rise and fall of her breasts under that sweater.
“He misses you,” she says softly, as though not to break the trance. “He would like to see you.”
My usual anger isn’t as quick to snap to. Che cazzo... I was right, then. She’s a witch, and definitely going to be a problem. Eyes narrowed on her, I manage to pull back from whatever it is she’s doing, and level my stare on hers. “What are you really up to, cara?”
Monica’s surprise is quickly hidden under indifference. “I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean.”
I can’t resist it, that aloofness. After what she just tried to pull on me – no one pulls one on me. I lean over her then, my hands on either side of the armchair she’s occupying. Her eyes widen and her breath catches in her throat, making the swell of her breasts all the more evident. Her pulse beats wilder, and I feel her rising emotion in the air.
Wait, what?
My eyes narrow further, and definitely – sì, the air is tinted with her perfume, but also her arousal and her excitement, fear, all warped into a mass of emotions. I’ve never sensed emotions before, but it’s enough to make my wolf peak its head, nudging. Not like female wolves are in high quality around here. Reapers tend to turn only men, and don’t associate with humans thanks to their racist tendencies.
And Monica... She’s a delicacy, all right.
Ignoring my body’s nudge, I grit my teeth. “You can tell my father I’m not interested in anything he has to offer. Least of all some pitiful excuse that he misses me.”
We face off for a beat, and she doesn’t move. What is it with people no longer cowering under my glare? Just as I taste her surrender, her retreat in the air, a soft rap on the edge of the door has me looking up.
“Everything okay?”
Lucrezia stares between me and Monica, and bites her lip as if holding back laughter. But underneath that, I also taste suspicion regarding the woman I’ve practically caged between my arms. Sì, your instincts are correct, cara. Something’s not quite right with this one.
I pull back, releasing Monica. “Ms. Delucci was just leaving. Would you show her out?”
Lucrezia nods and waits. It takes a beat, then another, until Monica gets up from the chair. She flicks her hair backwards, and a hint of cherry hits my nose. I stop inhaling in an effort to ignore it, but my eyes won’t leave her form as she walks away.
With one more questioning look my way, Lucrezia turns tail and follows her out the door. The minute they’re gone, I grab another boulder off the ground and toss it through the open hole. The force used makes it crash and split against the cement in the back, not that I care.
Heart beating wildly with anger restrained, I walk to the one corner that hasn’t been destroyed, and my decanter of whiskey hidden underneath. I pull out a cup since the glasses are broken and pour myself a triple.
“Who was she?”
I take my time turning around.
Dominic’s my beta, and at times my friend, but he’s also the reason we’re in this mess. Our status quo seems to be fighting, especially given our history. And the fact we were at each others’ throats just earlier this morning. Which explains why I’m not in the mood to see his face, let alone talk to him.
“No one of importance,” I say and drop the whiskey cup on the desk.
“I wouldn’t say that, given you’ve joined the rest of us into drinking because of a woman.”
I whirl on him then, but realize a second later he’s grinning to take the sting out of his words.
“I’m not.”
“Whatever you say. May I?” Lucrezia must’ve talked his anger down – again. There is no other explanation for the sudden politeness. When I nod, Dominic moves closer and pours himself a cup. “Whatever you may tell yourself, you and I both know it’s a lie.”
And there goes the politeness. Snorting, I take another gulp of whiskey. “Monica’s a pair of long legs and probably a good fuck. But there’s none of what you and Lucrezia have.”
“Did I even allude to that?” The amusement in his eyes shines brighter. “Mm.” He takes a sip, then another. “That’s good stuff.”
I hold my cup in silent cheers, refusing to finish the conversation. Instead, I focus on something I can control, something my wolf has been aiming for. A lupo mannaro loves to fight, and asserting his control. It’s probably what pushed me to the head of this pack, and I’ve been fighting against myself for long enough where the Reapers are concerned. You win, lupo. Negotiations failed, so force it is.
“Where is your pack?”
A wary look crosses his features, and he takes another sip. I don’t blame him. It’s no secret I’m no fan of his vrykolakas, and just this morning I accused him of bringing them back to piss me off.
>
Still, Dominic answers. “Around... Out of town. I don’t want them tempted to take innocent lives.”
“Bene,” I mutter. “We have enough of that with the Reapers. Who knew Declan killing Cade would unleash their craziness even more?”
Dominic relaxes a tinge. It’s what I need, so I let him lead the conversation. It’s a game I’ve gotten very good at playing.
“Yeah, it’s bad. At the rate we’re finding bodies or missing people, and with the cops gone, it won’t be long before this entire town is turned.” He takes another sip. “I saw a couple cars leaving this morning. It seems only the old and tried humans have stayed behind... Maybe their age will protect them.”
I snort into my cup. “Perhaps. And yet I find that when one thinks protection is in sight, is exactly when one is most vulnerable.”
Dominic tenses again, reading between the lines. “The vrykolakas are only here to help, my friend. With Reapers turning humans every night, we need additional bodies for protection.”
“I know,” I say, and this time meet his gaze full-on. “Forget what I said this morning in anger. I want you to put them to use. Track every single one of those monsters and kill them.”
Dominic seems stunned, silent for one beat, and another. Waiting for me to take it back, to plead for peace, for restraint. I don’t do either.
“You’re not serious?” he finally asks.
“I am.”
“Finn was right, then. You’ve really lost it.”
I drain my cup and smash it on the desk. The sound echoes in the room, but Dominic’s gaze never wavers from mine. “Why? Because I want justice?”
“It’s not justice, as much as an execution.”
“And?” Straightening to my full height, I cross my arms over my chest and use my trump card. “Have you forgotten they’re the ones who killed Lucrezia?”
The minute the words are out of my mouth, I realize they’re the wrong ones. Dominic tosses his cup away and crosses to me in two strides, jabbing his index in my chest. “Luz was in danger because of you and your stupid ego.”
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