by Lowe, Anna
It’s him! Our mystery man, her lioness cheered.
His eyes flashed a golden-brownish color behind his mask.
A lion shifter, like us, her inner lioness purred.
Cara fought off the inexplicable rush of…of…well, feelings his scent set off.
Everything from his powerful build to his sharp, honest eyes made him a perfect candidate to help her in whatever was going down. But what use was he, lurking in a corner like that?
“Hey,” another man grunted, trying to shuffle back into the room. “Stop!”
“Luigi!” Fiorina cried.
Apparently, he was one of Fiorina’s bodyguards. The family always had a few around. But the bear shifter pushed the door shut, locking away Luigi and the sight of panicked partygoers stampeding for the street.
“Fire!” guests shouted in panic. “Fire!”
Cara sniffed. There wasn’t a hint of fire or smoke in the air. Dammit, why were Fiorina’s bodyguards so far away?
Unfortunately, we have enemies, Fiorina’s mother had confided eight years earlier, when Cara had first been hired. Those who killed my husband would like to see me and the children disappear too. So, that is what we have done — disappeared — but on our own terms, with new identities and a new home. If I could tell you more, I would. All I can say is, you must be discreet — and vigilant. Our lives depend on it.
Cara had been prepared for that. After all, the family friend who’d recommended her for the job had hinted it wouldn’t be an ordinary au pair position — especially since a black belt was her primary qualification.
Luckily, nothing had happened during Cara’s year with the family. Which wasn’t that surprising, given their life in a secluded villa outside Bibione, many miles down the coast. Practically a world apart from their native Venice. What were they doing back in the city now?
I beg you to never, ever let us down, Fiorina’s mother had once said.
Cara clenched her jaw. She wouldn’t. Not then, not now.
Hands appeared at the window, pushing open the curtains. Fiorina screamed, adding to the mayhem. Cara kicked, making the person at the window yelp and back away. Then she picked up the piano stool, ready to fight. She would shift to lion form if she had no other choice, but she didn’t want to risk being spotted by any humans. It was the same all over the world — shapeshifters had to hide their special abilities at all costs.
“What do you want?” Fiorina cried as the men closed in on her.
The nearest man — a wolf shifter — laughed. “We want you.”
Then he lunged, as did his friend, both heading for Fiorina as if Cara didn’t exist.
And, boy. Cara had already been mad. Now, she was furious. Did they think she wouldn’t put up a fight?
She smashed the piano stool into the nearest man’s ribs. When he stumbled, Cara let her foot fly. It connected with a satisfying crack — his jaw, not her foot — and he dropped to his knees.
But by then, the second man had started dragging Fiorina toward the window.
“Now, now, darling. I don’t want to hurt you…”
Cara gave the piano a mighty push. With an earsplitting screech, the wheels rolled, and it blocked his way. Then a growl sounded behind her, and she spun.
The good news? Mystery Man had finally decided to join the fight — on her side, thank goodness.
The bad news? He rammed into the bear shifter, setting off a ferocious brawl. Fists flew, grunts sounded, and although both remained in human form, they let out just enough of their claws and fangs to inflict serious damage.
Cara watched in a mixture of awe and fear, then hurried toward Fiorina.
“Help!” the girl cried as the wolf shifter dragged her along.
Twist free, Cara wanted to shout. Go limp. Make it hard for him. For goodness’ sake. Didn’t Fiorina remember any of the self-defense moves Cara had taught her?
Apparently not. All she did was struggle meekly. Not a surprise, considering the girl didn’t have an aggressive bone in her body.
Cara rushed over, but the man she’d knocked aside wobbled back to his feet, blocking her way. His eyes glowed with pure hate.
“Our orders were to take her alive. No such orders for you, bitch.” He flexed his fingers, revealing wolf claws.
Cara huffed and flicked her fingers, releasing curved feline claws an inch longer than his.
The man’s eyes flickered in an Oh shit moment. Then he scowled, daring her to attack.
She hesitated, knowing her strengths — and weaknesses. When it came to repelling attacks and making a quick escape, she knew every trick in the book. But going on the offensive — especially against a man twice her size? Not her thing.
Still, part of her almost burned to fight. Or was that the itch at her neck? Either way, she didn’t have much choice — not while Fiorina was being dragged toward the window. An accomplice appeared there — the boat operator, ready to make off with their prize.
That created enough of a distraction for Cara to duck past her foe, race around, and karate-kick the man at the window. He fell out of sight with a sharp cry that ended with a loud splash.
“Hey,” the man holding Fiorina protested.
Cara huffed. Did he really think she was going to stand around and let them kidnap Fiorina?
But a heavy weight thumped into her from behind, knocking her breath away.
“Got you,” a man growled in her ear, pinning her arms to her sides.
She grimaced at his bad breath and wiggled weakly, letting him believe she would be easy to subdue. Then she executed the standard three-step evasion plan she’d taught to dozens of women in self-defense classes at her uncle’s martial arts studio.
Nothing to it, she’d always led off by saying. One — jerk down to create space.
She bent at the waist, making the man mutter in surprise.
Two — jab your elbow into your attacker’s ribs.
The man grunted, and his grip loosened.
Three — stomp on the arch of his foot. Hard.
“Oof!” The man howled when her foot came down.
Then she added the advanced part. Spin around, wait for him to look up, then drive your palm upward against his nose.
Right on cue, the intruder looked up.
Cara shot out her right hand, aiming for his nose.
Bam! The man reeled back, moaning as blood gushed from his nose. The others were still fighting fiercely. Meanwhile, fists pounded on the door from outside.
“Fiorina! Hang in there! We’re coming!”
Cara rolled her eyes. Some help Fiorina’s bodyguards were. If it weren’t for her and the lion shifter…
She turned back to Fiorina. That lion shifter could fend for himself. She had to deal with the last intruder.
Last two intruders, her lioness corrected when the boat operator appeared at the window again.
His hair was plastered to his skull, his sleeves soaked. Cara pinned him with her fiercest glare and let her lion fangs extend. After one look, the man paled and ducked out of sight.
She snorted. Either she was scarier than she thought, or these intruders weren’t pros.
The man holding Fiorina paused, considered his dwindling options, and tried a different tack. He whirled Fiorina around and clamped his arm around her neck.
“Come any closer, and she’s dead.”
Cara tut-tutted, faking a casual tone. “I thought you wanted her alive.”
“I mean it!” the man insisted.
A heavy thump sounded as the bear shifter slammed against a wall and slumped to the floor. Mystery Man dusted off his hands and gave Cara a little nod.
She nodded back. For some reason, it felt as if they were a team that had completed dozens of missions together and this was just another little victory.
Which was crazy, because she didn’t even know him…
Yet, her inner lion swiped its tail.
…but she trusted him. Implicitly.
His mask had fallen of
f in the fight, revealing a dark, neatly trimmed beard, a sharp jawline, and perfectly shaped lips. The kind a girl might be tempted to brush her finger over — or better yet, her lips. When their eyes locked, the topaz on her necklace warmed, and her heart did a happy flip.
The man stepped to her side and growled at the last intruder. “Did I hear something about dead or alive?”
The man holding Fiorina gulped.
Cara folded her arms. “How about, you let her go, and we let you live.”
Mystery Man shook his head, playing bad cop to her good cop. “Why let him go? I prefer him dead and the girl alive.”
“Don’t we prefer no one dead?” Fiorina squeaked.
In spite of everything, Cara nearly smiled. Fiorina might not be much of a fighter, but she had a heart of gold. If only the world were a kinder, gentler place.
The kidnapper slowly cocked his head, and his jaw went slack. “Tony?”
Cara glanced at the lion shifter, who scowled back. “Matteo.” He practically spat out the name. “You couldn’t find a better line of work?”
The intruder shook his head in awe. “You’re back. Are you mad?”
“Just visiting,” the man at Cara’s side — Tony — growled.
The intruder raised his eyebrows. “You’ll be visiting a cell soon.”
“Says the man in the midst of a kidnapping,” Tony pointed out coolly.
Cara had no idea what they were on about, but the longer they talked, the more Matteo’s grip on Fiorina loosened. Cara flexed her fingers, ready to pounce.
Fists pounded on the locked door. “Let us in!”
Matteo glanced at the door, then at the window, weighing his options.
“Don’t make this worse,” Cara warned him. At the same time, she whispered into Fiorina’s mind. Now’s your chance. Jab an elbow in his ribs and twist free.
But all the terrified girl managed was a meek wiggle that made Matteo tighten his grip. Sweat rolled down his brow as the pounding on the door increased.
“Do you really want to be around when they come in?” Tony asked.
Matteo went a little pale, but he managed to retort, “Do you?”
Tony’s gaze flickered, but he didn’t move. “Not going anywhere until you let her go.”
Everything about him announced honor and sacrifice. Did he know Fiorina, or was he one of those rare knights in shining armor who did the right thing, no matter the risk?
The door creaked, then splintered under the pounding, and Fiorina’s bodyguards tumbled in.
Finally. Cara would have snorted if she hadn’t been jumping toward Fiorina. Matteo flung the girl at Cara and raced for the window to escape. But Tony was faster. In one smooth move, he vaulted over the piano and pinned Matteo to the floor.
Cara yanked Florina back, just in case. A moment later, bodyguards surrounded them, and she exhaled. It was over. Fiorina was safe, the intruder was apprehended, and justice would prevail.
She couldn’t help grinning at Tony, who smiled back. A full-out, We did it! smile that made her warm all over. Even her eyes warmed — a sure sign they were glowing, like his.
Her heart thumped a few times before it hit her. That wasn’t the red glow of anger or the pulsing glow of triumph. It was a steady, golden glow of…of…
She gulped. Amore. Even a little spike of arousal — the kind that could strike out of nowhere if the chemistry between two people was just right.
Her nerves tingled, and her heart thumped.
Destiny, a faint, earthy voice whispered in her mind.
She moved her lips, but no sound came out. Of course, she’d heard the stories. Stories of love-at-first-sight, done-deal affairs that ignited in an instant and lasted a lifetime. Of destiny bringing two strangers together and fanning intense flames that never, ever faded.
Then again, there were other stories, too. Sad ones of destiny giving, then taking away. Playing with people’s lives, minds, and hearts as if they were toys.
She gulped. Which was this?
All that swirled through a corner of her mind while she lost herself in those beautiful, golden-brown eyes. The ones swirling at her like she was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.
Then someone stepped between them, and Cara blinked. “Whoa. Wait.”
Four men stomped over. But instead of focusing on the intruder, they grabbed Tony by the arms. And instead of giving him a pat on the back, they glared as if he was a criminal.
“Tony,” someone hissed.
“Is it really you?”
“Murderer. Get him.”
Cara blinked. “Hey. Wait a minute. He was helping.”
“This man is a criminal,” the man insisted.
“No, they’re the criminals.” She pointed.
The guards broke out some handcuffs and slapped them on Matteo, the other intruders, and Tony.
Cara waved her hands. “I’m telling you, he didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He didn’t,” Fiorina agreed.
But the guards didn’t relent. Cara could have screamed. Why didn’t Tony protest? Why didn’t he explain?
Heavy footsteps sounded at the door, and someone breathed, “Don Ercole.”
Everyone spun around and bowed.
Cara did a double take. The Don Ercole?
She’d spent the past four months in Venice, making sure to steer clear of shifter politics. But even she knew Don Ercole was top dog — er, top lion. A living legend, some said. Cara hadn’t really believed the hyperbole, but now…
Wow. The man didn’t simply step into the room — his commanding presence steamrolled in, making everyone cower.
Well, nearly everyone. Tony kept his gaze perfectly level, and Cara did the same.
“Zio Ercole,” Fiorina whispered, ducking into a little curtsy.
Cara did a double take. The mighty Don Ercole was Fiorina’s uncle?
Technically, my godfather, Fiorina murmured into her mind.
The man glared at Tony and rumbled dangerously, “Antonio Pellegrini.”
“Don Ercole,” Tony murmured, refusing to stand down.
Ercole — the name said it all. Hercules. Who would dare stand up to Venice’s highest-ranking shifter?
Well, Tony, for one. Everyone stood still, holding their breath. If Ercole and Tony were a couple of dragon shifters, the room might have erupted into a firestorm. But as lion shifters, they stood perfectly still, glaring. Cara could practically picture their lion tails twitching in the prelude to a fight.
But shaken voices drifted in from the hallway, along with nervous calls and jittery laughs.
“False alarm,” someone said.
“No fire after all,” another agreed.
Then a mighty whoosh sounded overhead, and everyone flinched. Cara looked up.
“What was that?” someone outside cried.
A dragon, taking flight, Cara decided. But who? Why?
Don Ercole frowned, as did Tony. But most of the party guests seemed to write it off as they filed back into the palace and resumed the festivities.
The lines on Don Ercole’s face deepened, and he motioned to his guards. “We’ll attend to this matter in the Palazzo Rigoni. You and you, keep her safe.” He pointed at Fiorina, then glared at Tony. “The rest of you, bring him in. Don’t let that lowlife get away.”
Cara’s cheeks heated. “Lowlife? He just saved Fiorina.”
Don Ercole turned to her, and yikes. If looks could kill…
“This man is a murderer. A cold-blooded killer.”
Cara nearly shook her head. Don Ercole was the coldest man in the room by a mile, while the man he accused was innocent. Honorable. Trustworthy. She’d only just met Tony, but those qualities came through in every action, every word.
But, damn. How was she ever going to convince a man like Don Ercole of that?
Chapter Five
Tony took a deep breath. His cousin Rocco stood in the shadows behind Don Ercole, signaling wildly. Make a break for it. Quick!
>
Tony shook his head ever so slightly. Running would only make things worse. Besides, he was tired of pretending to be someone else.
Stand tall and stand proud, his father had said a long, long time ago.
The few memories he had of his father were hazy, but that one stood out clear as a bell.
We may not be rich in money, but we have all the honor in the world — honor we earn. And that, my boy, is something no one can ever steal or deny.
His father, like generations of Pellegrinis, had served the Guardians of Venice. And like most of his ancestors, he had died in the name of duty. That was practically a given in their line of work. Higher-born men met in gilded halls to issue judgment or decrees, but it was the Guerrieri — a special class of foot soldier — who kept evil at bay. As surely as Don Ercole and others were destined to rule from the top, Tony, like all Pellegrinis, was destined to serve his city in more practical ways.
At least he had, until one fateful day.
When the guards shoved him along, he went willingly — so much so, it surprised him. Maybe part of him needed to be home so badly, it didn’t matter that the consequences were dire.
Or maybe it was her.
Cara. His lion sniffed the air eagerly.
Who was she? Where had she come from?
From two steps ahead of him, she glanced back, worried.
Worried for me, his inner lion glowed.
The guards yanked his handcuffs as if to underscore the point. You should be worried, buddy.
He winced, but the pain didn’t chase the fluttering butterflies out of his soul. Joyous blue and green butterflies, the color of Cara’s eyes.
He blinked a few times. Wait. Blue and green?
Lion shifters, like their wild kin, were born with blue-gray eyes that gradually changed to a tawny, orange-brown. But hers were different. One was blue and one was green. Or had he been imagining things?
The next time she glanced back, his breath caught. Left side blue, right side green, just as he’d thought. Even more of her hair had escaped the bun in the course of the fight, and he itched to step over and let the rest spring free. To run his fingers through her tight curls and…
