Fire Maidens: Venice

by Lowe, Anna

  Torcello was perfect. Drawing Ismerelda’s men there would give Rocco time to spirit Fiorina to safety.

  Tony cut toward the island, but the motorboat roared behind them, making twice their speed.

  “Over there!” Cara pointed right.

  Tony shook his head. “It gets shallow there.”

  “Exactly.”

  He swallowed hard and turned in the direction she indicated, where the water was murky and brown.

  “Faster!” she ordered.

  He shook his head. If they hit bottom at high speed, they would both be thrown from the Jet Ski.

  “Trust me,” Cara insisted. “The motorboat draws more water than this Jet Ski does. We can get through.”

  How could she be so sure? Then the answer hit him. “Is this one of your work sites?”

  “We conducted extensive surveys here, but this area won’t be targeted until Stage Six.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. Wow. Talk about long-term goals.

  Then he remembered what she’d said earlier. It’s like the cathedral builders.

  She tapped him on the shoulder. “Quick. Let me drive.”

  He opened his mouth, about to protest. He was the driver, dammit. He had the training, the instincts, the reflexes…

  …and she has the local knowledge, his lion pointed out.

  He closed his mouth and swallowed away his doubts. Cara was right. Awkwardly, he half stood, letting her slide around to the front. That involved wiggling her torso against his, igniting all the testosterone in his body. Then he shuffled around, taking the back. And rather than feeling strange, it was just right. His arms slid exactly into place, and confidence surged through his veins.

  If anyone can do this, Cara can, his lion murmured.

  Zoom! She throttled up, nearly throwing him off the back, and started slaloming through the shallows.

  The motorboat jerked away and decelerated. Tony squared his shoulders, shielding Cara from their view — except for that pink scarf flapping over her shoulder.

  Of course, anyone who knew anything about Fiorina would realize she would never have the nerves to slalom around hidden dangers at top speed. Tony grinned. That was pure Cara.

  The motorboat curved this way and that as Ismerelda’s men shouted at one another in frustration.

  “Hang on.” Cara gunned the throttle.

  Tony glanced down. The fuel needle was on empty. Was there enough in the tank for them to reach Torcello?

  He tightened his grip around Cara’s waist and thought through contingency plans. Facing the enemy on the water was a worst-case scenario. As a lion shifter, he needed solid ground to fight on.

  “We’ll make it,” Cara muttered, reading his mind. “**The question is, what do we do when we get there?”

  “We keep them distracted a while longer,” he said, knowing how simple that made it sound.

  “How long?” Cara’s voice was tight.

  And no wonder. The sun was sinking toward the horizon, and they were being pursued by half a dozen men. How long could he hope to play decoy?

  Backup would be good, but who? He’d already alerted Theo, but the dragon shifter couldn’t risk winging it across the lagoon until darkness fell in.

  No matter how many options he raced through, the best was taking on Ismerelda’s men himself. But there were at least six of them, and who knew how many others on the way.

  Closing his eyes, he reached out to Rocco in his mind.

  All clear there?

  Rocco didn’t reply immediately, and Tony’s heart rate spiked. But then his cousin’s voice registered in his mind as a whisper.

  All clear.

  Tony exhaled a tiny bit. Any sign of more forces on the way?

  Nothing I’ve picked up on. Just Ismerelda and two others.

  The worst-case scenario was Ismerelda acting on behalf of the Guardians. Then he, Cara, Rocco, and Fiorina had no chance of pulling this off. But if Ismerelda was acting alone, he had half a chance of help from the Guardians themselves — if not to save his sorry ass, then to protect Fiorina.

  Wait there until you’re sure the coast is clear. Then get to the boat and head to the mainland, he ordered Rocco. You got that? The mainland — not to my grandfather’s place, not to Venice. Not until we’re sure where we stand.

  Rocco gave an affirmative grunt, and Tony focused back on his surroundings. His chest grew tighter as they approached Torcello. When the engine sputtered, Cara coaxed it on.

  “Come on…”

  They were only fifty feet away now. Forty…

  Behind them, the motorboat was speeding along. The Jet Ski had allowed Cara to short-cut to the island, but the motorboat was catching up, using the main channel.

  “Come on…” Cara murmured as the engine stuttered along.

  It cut out entirely twenty feet from shore, but momentum kept them drifting forward. The instant they bumped the small public pier, they leaped ashore and took off at a sprint.

  “Where to?” Cara called.

  “Follow the path, then over the bridge.”

  She ran on, managing a chuckle. “This is like the yellow brick road, only red.”

  Indeed, the winding path along the canal was as pretty as could be. Tony only wished they could stroll along it peacefully instead of running for their lives.

  Shouts rang out behind them as Ismerelda’s men jumped ashore. When Tony glanced back, the curve of the path hid those in pursuit. But a moment later, they came charging into view.

  Tony gritted his teeth. Cara was fast, but not as fast as those coming up behind. He and she had to shift, and soon. But they couldn’t charge up the island’s main path in lion form when residents might still be out and about.

  The path bent left, opening on to a long straightaway. In the distance, ancient church towers stood tall. Once they were halfway there, he gestured right.

  “That little bridge?” Cara called out skeptically.

  The narrow, elegant structure was centuries old and looked like it might not hold. Still, Tony nodded. “That one.”

  They raced over the stone bridge then sprinted down a narrow, shady path on the other side. Gravel crunched underfoot, and leaves swatted their sides. Tony didn’t stop to shift — he transformed in mid-stride, going from a two-legged, upward gait to the faster, smoother sprint of all fours. Cara did the same a heartbeat later.

  Tony grinned. Without a lot of practice, shifting in mid-stride usually ended in a tumble. But Cara was a pro.

  Over here, he growled in lion talk while hopping over a stone wall. That took them into an orchard, where they raced to the opposite side and took cover. Side by side, they crouched, whiskers twitching, tails quietly lashing, ears straining for any sound.

  Human shouts broke out, followed by animal growls as Ismerelda’s men shifted into animal form. The wind carried the musky scent of lions and the woodsy odor of wolves.

  Tony backed into the thick foliage, glad the wind was on his side.

  Theo, he checked in with the dragon shifter in his mind. I need backup here on Torcello. Pronto.

  A faint, growly voice registered in his mind. As soon as it’s dark enough for me to shift, I’ll be on my way.

  Tony eyed the sky, willing dusk to turn to night. Briefly, he described their location, then focused on the scene at hand. The orchard was filled with the sweet scent of rotting apples, the sky turning red. Cara stood shoulder to shoulder with him, and for a moment, intense longing hit him. Longing for her company — not just in fleeting moments, but over a lifetime of lazy mornings and drawn-out afternoons. Longing for nights spent exploring together or wrapped in each other’s arms.

  He leaned over, tempted to rub this thick mane over her back and mark her as his. But a twig cracked, and he jerked around. Ismerelda’s forces had spread out and were tracking them.

  Nudging Cara, he crept to the edge of the orchard, then nodded her ahead. In one smooth, silent motion, she leaped over the stone wall and disappeared from
sight. When he followed, she was crouched, waiting.

  Now what? She lashed her tail.

  Clearly, she hated creeping around as much as he did. But the longer they kept Ismerelda’s forces busy, the more time Rocco had to get Fiorina to safety, and the longer Theo had to arrive.

  So, for the next nerve-racking twenty minutes, they crept around, keeping upwind of the enemy. Luckily, the lions were neither expert trackers nor skilled in the art of silence, making them fairly easy to locate. However, the other two demanded everything he had to evade — a wolf with an especially keen nose and Caselli.

  Tony barely bit back a growl. Mannaggia, he hated that man.

  The feeling is mutual, his lion pointed out, sensing Caselli’s determination to track them down.

  It took every trick Tony knew to throw them off. First, he led Cara into a shallow canal and headed upstream. Then they emerged on the opposite bank and looped south, laying a false trail before returning to the canal and wading downstream. There, they leaped to a boulder eight feet away from the canal and crept north.

  You think Fiorina and Rocco are all right? Cara whispered to him in a low, throaty grumble.

  He glanced toward the mainland and the rapidly setting sun. Yes. For now, at least.

  Claws scraped over gravel nearby, and they both froze. Then a roar broke out — the wolf baying to the others — and Tony cursed. They’d been spotted.

  He broke into a full-out sprint with Cara at his side. Somehow, they had to elude the others and loop back to the dock. If they were lucky, Ismerelda’s men had left their boat unguarded, and he could commandeer it to get away. If they weren’t lucky…

  His lion growled. It’s not about luck. It’s about skill.

  He grimaced. That was all well and good, but he and Cara were vastly outnumbered.

  Meanwhile, they were approaching the basilica fast. As a kid, he’d been through the maze of buildings countless times, and he pictured the layout in his mind. In a few steps, they would cross another bridge over the canal. If he stopped there to hold off Ismerelda’s men, Cara could get ahead and…

  What, exactly?

  For lack of a better plan, he grunted at Cara as they approached the basilica from the side. Go! Go!

  She flashed her teeth. What about you?

  I’ll be right behind you.

  All right, so that was a fib. But what else could he do?

  Cara took three hesitant steps then turned back. We’re stronger together.

  He wished that were true. But she didn’t have the training he did, so he shook his head. I need you to go. Please. It was a plea, not a command.

  Go, he roared at Cara as two lions and a wolf barreled at him.

  Then Caselli and the other lion were upon him, and all his focus went to the fight. He slashed at Caselli, dodged the other lion, then roared at the wolf, who shrank back.

  Tony blinked, equally surprised. Wow. He was a master of ferocious growls, but that one was off the charts.

  Of course, his lion grumbled. We’re fighting for our mate’s life.

  He gulped as the truth of that statement hit him. This wasn’t about Fiorina, strict orders, or even pride. It was about his love. His future. His destiny.

  But, merda. Knowing his luck, he was destined to die defending his mate. And he would be willing to. But he would much prefer to survive and spend a lifetime with her.

  He growled at his foes, wondering how much of a choice he would get.

  None, Caselli’s glowing eyes vowed. Not if I can help it.

  Then a yelp sounded, and he glanced over. Cara had been cut off by two wolves who appeared at a bend in the path. Her claws scrabbled over the gravel as she spun to run the other way. But a lion appeared there, blocking that avenue of escape. She backtracked, only to face the wolves again. An instant later, they cut her off from Tony, and her only way out was…

  Tony roared in warning. No, not there!

  Caselli snickered behind him. Now we have her.

  Cara jumped at the door to the church’s tall clock tower and pawed at the latch.

  Not the tower! Tony roared. It’s a dead end.

  When the door creaked open, she hesitated. But she had no choice. With a grim look, she turned and ran up the spiral staircase.

  Tony turned to run to her, but Caselli jumped him just then, and he barely spun in time to bat the lion away.

  Cara! he roared desperately.

  Chapter Twenty

  Cara plunged into the darkness of the bell tower and raced up the spiral stairs. If she’d been in human form, she might have paused to slam the door shut, but there was no time. Around and around, she ran, her claws scraping over stone and her tail swatting the walls. Her panting breaths echoed through the stairwell, mixing with the snarls from below.

  Snarls that said, You’re cornered, sweetheart. Where are you going to go now?

  Her mind spun as she ran. God, she had no idea.

  But something had driven her to that tower — a force she couldn’t explain. Destiny?

  Not just destiny. Your destiny, a deep voice whispered in her ears.

  Faint light appeared ahead, and she paused at a slit of a window. She was about four stories up, not far from the basilica’s sloping roofline. A distance any feline could easily jump — if she could shimmy through the window. But it was far too narrow, so she ran on.

  The snarls behind her turned into chuckles. You can run, sweetheart, but you’ll soon be out of space.

  She bared her teeth and kept rounding corners. Her legs burned from the effort, and her breath came in short pants.

  Just a little farther, she told herself as the light ahead increased. One or two more stories, tops.

  It turned out to be more like three, but finally, she reached a wooden staircase — a straight one, for a change — and followed it to the tower’s top level. Then, she burst out on to an airy space.

  Pigeons fluttered in all directions, chattering in alarm. Massive bronze bells hung silently from a thick beam in the middle of the tower. Pairs of tall, arched windows gaped open on all four sides of the tower. The view would have been incredible, what with the sunset coloring the sky. Given the circumstances, however…

  Her heart sank. The roof of the adjoining basilica was at least three stories away — too far to jump. The sounds of a violent struggle rose from below, where three lions and a wolf clashed.

  Tony, she whispered.

  There was no mistaking him, even in that wild tussle. His gold-tinged fur was the darkest, his mane the thickest, his snarls the most ferocious.

  Mate, her lioness whimpered. Why hadn’t she stayed at his side?

  But her foes were approaching quickly, so she crouched at the top of the stairs. They would have to come through the narrow opening, where she could take them on one at a time.

  When a tawny form emerged at top speed, she bounded forward, body checking a lion. The beast snarled in surprise, then tumbled into the dark stairwell.

  Cara opened her jaws wide and released a mighty roar, daring the others to follow.

  And, wow. Her roar echoed far and wide. As mighty a roar as a furious dragon might produce. Even Tony and the others halted to stare upward.

  You bet your ass, that was me, an inner voice said.

  Cara’s heart beat wildly. Her?

  She gave herself a little shake and focused on the stairs. When might the next foe emerge? Several shifters were milling around below, planning a more coordinated approach. Cara couldn’t see much, but the dangerous glint in their eyes was clear.

  Still, they waited, stretching her nerves thin. When a cry rose from ground level, she glanced over. Was that Tony? Was he all right?

  When she spotted a lion limping away, her heart leaped, then settled again. It wasn’t Tony, thank goodness. Then again, it wasn’t Caselli either. Too bad.

  Then she yelped, because her attackers chose exactly that moment to rush up the stairs. She barely had time to swipe at the first before backing away. Tw
o lions prowled clockwise around the tower, closing in on her. The wolf came the other way, grinning wildly.

  Cara skittered back. The only place to retreat to was a tight corner between two sets of windows. Each of those was a terrifying gap that started at floor level and soared high, with only a thin wooden beam as a safety rail. Even those were at waist height — for a human. Not much protection for a lion on four feet.

  Briefly, she considered shifting to human form, then discarded the idea.

  Not human form, a little voice whispered in her mind. Stay in lion form, but make it better.

  Pain stabbed through her shoulders, and she winced. Better would be something far, far away from here and much, much closer to the ground.

  Cara! Tony cried from below.

  Her heart tore at the fear in his voice. Not for himself, but for fear of losing her.

  She swallowed against the lump in her throat. Oh God. Death loomed — not only over her but Tony too. His grandfather would be shattered. Her parents. And Fiorina… Cara’s stomach churned. Who would protect Fiorina from now on?

  She peered down the long drop to the ground and blanched.

  A long way down, one of the lions agreed in a feline snarl.

  The question is, will she go down the hard way or the easy way? his buddy chuckled.

  Easy, she assumed, meant giving in and jumping to her death. Hard involved a fight before they drove her off the edge. In the end, the result would be the same. She would plunge through the air and smash into the flagstones eight stories below. Game over.

  She bared her teeth and snarled. There had to be a different way.

  There is a different way, a faint inner voice insisted.

  Her shoulders itched madly, and it was all she could do not to rub up against the stonework. Steeling her jaw, she looked around for some avenue of escape. A single light appeared on the nearby canal, and her soul swelled with hope. Was that a boat she could hail for help?

  Then one of the lions snickered. Boss lady is here. Let’s make this impressive, boys.

  Cara’s heart sank. Ismerelda?

  Ismerelda, her lioness snarled as an older woman in a rose-colored cloak disembarked from the small vessel. She strode toward the bell tower, flanked by several men. Then she looked up, addressing the lions.