by Opal Carew
Though she knew the Etruscan deities, with the exception of the Involuti, lived among them, she’d never knowingly met one. Should she look him in those silver eyes and tell him what she wanted?
“Yeah, that would probably be a good place to start.”
She gasped as the wolf spoke in a perfectly human voice.
And when he laughed, her mouth dropped open.
“Kinda weird, huh? Wolf talking. You’ll get used to it.” Tivr sat on his haunches and tilted his head to the side. “So, sweetheart. You got yourself a damn fine mess, don’t you?”
For a few brief seconds, Shea considered the possibility that she’d fallen asleep next to Leo and this was all a dream.
“Nope, this is no dream, kid, so just spit it out.”
And what could she say that wouldn’t sound like whining? She so did not want to whine to a god.
“I’m worried about my brother,” she said finally. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect him. That I’ll fail my parents and let something happen to him.” She paused, looking up to meet the god’s silver gaze. “Do you… Can you…”
She bit her lip. Could she ask a god a question? Was it allowed? Oh, what the hell. “Do you know how to break the curse?”
The wolf shook his head. “Sorry, sweets, I don’t. That’s between Uni and Menrva and Veive. None of the other gods know either. Believe me, it’s not the first time someone’s asked.”
Despair hit her with the weight of a ton of bricks. If the deities didn’t have a clue, then her father’s vision was all she had to go on. And that just sucked.
“Hey, now, don’t fall apart on me.” Tivr nudged her shoulder with his snout, his soft warm fur brushing against her arm. “There’s always more than one way to eat a cat, babe. Just because you think you have an idea, doesn’t mean it’s the right one. Sometimes you need to think outside the box. Besides, change is coming, sweets, and you need to be ready.”
The intensity in his tone sent shivers down her back. “Ready for what?”
His fur bristled. “Battle. Gonna be a doozy, too. But then, the Mal never did go in for half measures. You need to be ready, babe. You and the kid.”
The Mal? Battle? Her and Leo in a battle against the Mal? Didn’t they have enough trouble with Dario?
She shook her head, wondering if she’d fallen and hit her head. Was she hallucinating? Goddess save her, she wished she were because Tivr was starting to freak her out. But she really didn’t want to piss off a god by asking too many questions.
“I don’t understand.”
Tivr sighed, a weird sound coming from a wolf. “No reason you would, huh? Not many do anymore. Used to be, we had temples full of priests and priestesses deciphering our every word.” He snorted. “Today, most don’t make it to temple once a month. They don’t practice the old ways. They turn to the Weather Channel to see if it’s going to be a good growing season or watch CNN to know if there’s trouble brewing in the world.
“No one studies the skies, the flights of the birds for omens. Those damn PETA people would be all over us if we started slicing up sheep for entrails. Hell, people aren’t even afraid of lightning any more, which would really frost Tinia’s cookies, if the bastard ever decides to show his face on Earth again.”
Her eyes widened at Tivr’s blasphemy but he didn’t take notice.
“The old ways are ignored but we need them, sweets. We knew when we followed our people to the new world…we knew change was on the way.”
He turned and his mouth curved in a toothy grin. “And you’re the front guard. You and your brother. The kid’s strong. So are you. Gabriel’s a good man to have at your back and so is Quinn. Things’ll work out. You’ll see. They have to. Just don’t make any rash decisions.”
As the wolf rose to his paws, Shea remained seated and bowed her spinning head. “Thank you for your counsel, Lord Tivr.”
“Don’t mention it. And I mean that seriously. This little section of woods has become my sanctuary. I’d like to keep it that way. See you around, sweets.”
With a final howl, the wolf turned and disappearing back into the forest.
Holy crap. She’d just had a conversation with a god.
She needed to talk to Gabriel.
* * *
Wrapped in the power of the spell he and Quinn were working, Gabriel wasn’t aware of Shea’s presence until he heard her step into the second-floor map room behind them.
He’d known she wasn’t asleep when he’d stuck his head in the bedroom, but he hadn’t disturbed her. They could all do with down time.
Besides, he needed to get her off his mind. He’d been thinking about her way too damn much. And there was too much at stake for him to forgo common sense and lose himself in her body for one night.
But, damn, he wanted to.
His tongue tripped over a word and he felt the power around him shift. Shit. He needed to concentrate. He was searching for signatures, life signatures that would pinpoint any persons of Etruscan descent in a fifty-mile radius. His father could have done a hundred miles, but he wasn’t that good. Quinn’s connection to the forces that had built this safe house boosted his powers slightly. It would have to be enough. He couldn’t allow anything—
“Shit!”
He broke the connection with Quinn and the spell when he realized the stupid mistake he’d just made.
He turned to find Shea’s eyes had rolled back into her head and she remained upright only because her knees had locked.
“Shea, downstairs. Now.”
“Gabriel, I can hear them. The voices. They’re—”
He didn’t wait for her to finish. He ran for her, catching her just as her legs buckled. Holding her against his chest, he took the stairs two at a time back to the first floor.
She was incoherent by the time he got her into the first bedroom he came to.
“Damn, I’m sorry, babe.” He placed her on the bed, completely pissed. “Fuck.”
“Christ, Gabe. Is she okay?” Quinn asked from behind him.
He shook his head, his gaze glued to Shea. “I don’t know. Hey, babe, can you hear me?”
She didn’t answer. She had her eyes squeezed tightly shut but two tears ran from the corners. He wanted to kick something. How could he have been so stupid not to realize what that room would do to her?
When the hell was he going to stop failing those who needed him?
* * *
Shea never really passed out.
She knew what was going on around her, could hear Gabriel and Quinn talking, heard Quinn leave. She couldn’t speak to tell them she was okay, but she thought she was.
She just couldn’t make her body obey her commands because she was listening to the voices in her head. For the first time in her life, she heard them clearly. Distinct voices, all speaking at the same time.
She knew what those voices were now.
When they started to fade, she opened her eyes and looked directly into Gabriel’s dark, worried gaze.
“Déjà vu, huh?” She smiled, thankful there were no painful side effects from…whatever had happened.
He shook his head and the grooves on his forehead deepened. “I screwed up and you paid. How do you feel?”
“Actually,” she swung her legs over the side of the bed so she could sit up, “I feel fine.”
Gabriel’s hands settled with a warm, steady weight on her shoulders. “Don’t move around too much. You might feel okay lying down, but—”
“I’m okay, Gabriel. Really.” She couldn’t help but smile up at him. “I heard them. The voices. Really heard them. I could understand what they were saying, what they’ve been trying to tell me for so long.”
He released her shoulders and sat back on the chair he’d pulled to the side of the bed. “What do you mean?”
She grimaced as she held up a hand. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going crazy. I heard them. They’re not figments of my imagination or schizophrenia.”
Ga
briel’s arms crossed over his chest, and his eyebrows lifted, his expression skeptical. “Oh yeah? So what are they?”
Without thinking, she reached out to cup his jaw with her hands, the rough scrape of his whiskers dazzling her skin. “It’s the women. The cursed streghe.”
His expression shifted, became wary. “How do you know?”
“Because I heard my mother.”
He froze for a split second and she saw astonishment quickly followed by doubt flash through his eyes.
Her chest tightened, and she blinked back sudden tears. Damn it, that shouldn’t hurt. She drew back but not fast enough. He caught her hands before she could get far. Still, the damage had been done.
He didn’t believe her. And she cursed him for making her doubt herself.
“Shea, wait.”
“Fuck you, Gabriel.” She lashed out before she could help herself then shook her head, trying to tug her hands away from his. He held on, not enough to hurt, just enough to let her know he wasn’t going to let go.
“Okay, sure.” He nodded as if she’d asked him to clean out her car or feed the dog. “If that’s what you want, no problem.”
She knew he was just trying to get a rise out of her but her breath stuttered in her lungs at the image that popped into her head of Gabriel and her and a bed—
Shit. “Gabriel—”
“Shea, just give me a minute here, okay? I’m not saying I don’t believe you.”
That brought her chin up. “I don’t need you to believe me. I know what I know. I have to go back and try to understand—”
He nodded, his jaw losing the stubborn edge it nearly always wore. “Fine. Great.” He tugged on her hands, wanting her to look up. But she knew if she did, she’d get more pissed off and take a swing at that strong jaw. Or kiss it. “I’m glad you know what’s going on. But you’re not going back up there.”
“What? Why?” Now she did meet his gaze and hers was blazing. “Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do?”
“Shea, listen to me. That room will drain you dry. It might even kill you.”
“What are you talking about?” She pulled away, and this time he let her go. Damn him, she did not miss the warmth of his hands. She scowled that much harder.
“Versipelli energy is drawn from nature,” he said. “It’s not inherent, like in the streghe. The versipelli built that room to funnel power. It intensified your innate power before funneling it right out of you. If you’d stayed much longer, it would have killed you.”
His expression twisted again, and he shook his head, drawing her gaze to his dark hair. He’d lost the leather band that had been holding it back and it waved over his shoulders. He had beautiful hair, almost too pretty to be a guy’s.
“I wasn’t thinking.” He rose and started to pace. “I should have told you to go when I realized you were there. God damn it, you could have been really hurt, Shea.”
He was pissed. She saw it in the way he stalked around the room.
“Gabriel—”
“You’re not going back in there.” He slashed a hand in front of him with so much force she swore she heard it slap the air. “So don’t even think about it.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, ready to let him have it, the stubborn, overbearing, pompous—
He slammed his fist into the wall by the door, exactly as Quinn had earlier today. She swore she heard bones crunch.
“Gabriel!” She jumped off the bed and ran to him, grabbed his hand before he could do it again. “You idiot. What the hell are you doing?”
“Vaffanculo , Shea, you could have been killed.”
She looked up and found him staring at her, fear and anger making his dark eyes wild. He was mad at himself, she realized, not with her. It was a strange, warm feeling, to have someone worry about her. It’d been so long.
She took a deep breath and reached for calm. Gabriel had enough mad for the both of them right now. “I’m fine. Gabriel, really. I’m better than fine. Let me see your hand.”
He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just stared at her. She couldn’t handle that intensity for long and dropped her gaze to their hands. His knuckles were raw and bleeding. She felt his pain as if it were his own, felt it in her gut. Her Gift reached out to fix him, to make him better.
Or maybe it was the woman who wanted to take him in her arms and—
He flipped his hand and laced his fingers through hers.
She watched their fingers slide together, felt the roughness of his skin against hers. She blinked when he raised his free hand and tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes.
He drew in a breath and she knew, before he lowered his mouth, that he wanted to kiss her.
Oh, please, yes.
She wanted him to kiss her, wanted that connection, to taste him again…
At the last second, he closed his eyes and let his head drop back.
“We need to get the hell out of here.” He drew in a deep breath and released her hand. “You’re screwing with my head. It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”
“I’m not—”
Gabriel exhaled one short, hard breath. “Shea. Please. Just…give it a rest.”
She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, but his expression made her pause. Worry showed in the furrows of his forehead and the flat line of his mouth. And that made her swallow anything she might have said.
Taking a deep breath, Gabriel released her hands. “We’re leaving, as soon as we can get the hell away from here. Get your stuff together and wake Leo. I’m going back upstairs to finish what I started.”
He looked straight into her eyes, worry firmly entrenched there, as well. “I don’t want you anywhere near that room. Do you understand?”
It took everything she had to keep quiet when she simultaneously wanted to beat him over the head and kiss him. Instead, she managed a short nod, jaw clamped tight. He responded with a nod of his own and walked out.
Chapter Thirteen
The trip was uneventful.
And deadly silent.
Gabriel sat at the wheel of the Jeep Wrangler he’d traded for the Audi at the safe house, still berating himself.
Shea and Leo huddled in the backseat, while an unusually silent Quinn sat in the front. They were headed to Crimson Moon, Serena’s compound outside Reading, and Quinn was probably trying to figure out what to say to her.
And he sat here, trying not to think about the female in the back seat. She’d finally fallen asleep about fifteen minutes ago, Leo’s head on her shoulder. She hadn’t spoken to him since they’d left the safe house.
It bugged the crap out of him.
It shouldn’t. He shouldn’t even be thinking about her. But he couldn’t stop.
And he had a lot of damn time to think. He knew the way to the compound on the northeastern side of the city as well as he knew his own name. Located in the forest that covered Mt. Penn, on a narrow path that wound up the mountain, the house was disguised by a complex series of spells and wards that no one who didn’t know the correct procedure to bypass them would ever get through.
Quinn shifted on the seat beside him, and Gabriel heard him take a deep breath then release it. These woods had always called to Quinn, just as they called to Serena.
Which made sense, considering Serena and Niccolo, her husband at the time of the curse, had been blood-bound, their souls tied together throughout eternity.
And Quinn, according to Serena, held Niccolo’s soul.
Hell, if being blood-bound to another person made you as miserable as Quinn and Serena… Yeah, he’d take a pass.
Gabriel slowed then brought the car to a stop. “You want to get out and stretch your legs before we get up there?”
A weak grin surfaced on Quinn’s face as he stared out the front window. “Want a little time alone with Shea, huh?”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Vaffanculo, ceffo.”
“Dude, I got eyes. Not that I blame you. She’s great. An
d she looks at you like you hung the moon.”
Gabriel flashed a look in the rearview, making sure Shea was still asleep. “Baciami il culo, Quinn. She’s a job.”
But even as he said it, he knew it was a lie.
And he knew Quinn wasn’t buying it, if his shit-eating grin was anything to go by. “She’s smart and strong and she doesn’t take your shit. She’s not too hard on the eyes, either.”
Gabriel shook his head but couldn’t dispute a word of it.
Still, he knew why Quinn was picking at him. “Maybe now, with Shea… Maybe Serena will—”
Quinn’s snort cut him off. “You know her better than that, Gabriel. She’s even more stubborn than you. And it’s eating me alive. I’ve been sitting here dreading this but so damn excited to see her I’m shaking. She’s never going to give in. And for my own sanity, I’ve gotta hear her tell me to get lost, so I can get on with my life.” Quinn turned to face him, his expression set in hard lines. “You know I took the Bullet to get through college, right?”
Gabriel nodded. The Bullet was a dangerous cocktail of drugs laced with silver nitrate. It allowed versipelli to control their change during full moons when the urge is most powerful, especially for the younger males.
“I hated it,” Quinn continued. “Hated that it made me feel dead. You have a switch inside, Gabe, that helps you do what the Bullet does for me. I used to think you were a cold bastard, the way you could turn off your emotions. Now, I think you’re the luckiest man in the world.”
“No, Quinn—”
Quinn talked right over him, his eyes staring blankly out the front window. “Did I ever tell you what they used to call me at college? The Monk. So, not only was I an honest-to-God freak with a secret I couldn’t tell anyone, but the guys I lived with thought I was a completely different kind of freak.”
