Shadow Flight

by Christine Feehan

  He used a remote with his free hand and brought down privacy screens to black out the windows so they could sleep in when the light came in the morning. “There’s always a choice, Nicoletta. I’m not Eloisa. As much as I love being a rider, I had a choice from the beginning whether or not to allow my shadow to tangle with yours. I will admit, I didn’t realize it would happen so fast, but I still made that decision. After that first knot formed, I could have stayed away, but I didn’t. You were the one without a clear choice because you didn’t know the consequences until I told them to you. I couldn’t do that right away for obvious reasons.”

  “Taviano, why did you—”

  “Go to sleep, tesoro. We’ll be sorting through quite a few things in the morning. I’m tired and I need to lie down.”

  She had a hundred more questions for him. Mostly, she needed to know if he really thought that he could fall in love with her. In love was far different from loving. She had no doubts that Taviano loved her. She knew that he did. She felt it every time she was with him. She not only loved him; she was in love with him. He was always going to be her “only.” The one. She wanted to be the same for him.

  She knew the moment he finally fell asleep, his body relaxing fully against hers. He was warm. Not just warm, almost hot. His arm was a weight around her waist, but she found she liked having it there, when she’d always wanted to be able to run at the least sign of danger.

  It was strange to be lying in bed knowing she was Nicoletta Ferraro, Taviano Ferraro’s wife. She found that the idea gave her a little thrill, when before she’d been so upset that she’d let him talk her into it. Now that Taviano had shared his past with her, given her something no one else but his witch of a parent knew, she felt as if she belonged with him. She fit. Maybe not perfectly yet, but she could have his back.

  She was tough. She had survival skills. Emmanuelle and the others were teaching her how to not only get better at defense and offense but also be better at handling people. She was learning the skills necessary to fit into the places the family went, their charity events, the clubs, the places she would never have considered going. Now that she was Taviano’s wife, she would learn faster. Lucia would help her, and Francesca was an amazing tutor. Before, Nicoletta detested asking for help; now she had a perfect reason.

  She had no idea how she was going to fit in to Taviano’s world, but she was going to do her best, because someday she would have his children, and they weren’t going to be ashamed of their mother. She drifted off to sleep, determined to find a way to make things work with Taviano, to make their relationship strong and very real.

  * * *

  * * *

  Taviano woke to the angry vibration of his watch. It took only a moment of inhaling and becoming aware to know Nicoletta was in his arms. She hadn’t moved. For once, she’d slept quietly, his larger body surrounding hers. He found himself smiling as he gently and very carefully pulled his arm from around her waist and rolled to the side of the bed. Raising one of the many privacy screens to allow some light to spill into the room, he saw it was a beautiful morning.

  Three messages had come in while he slept. Typically, he awoke when he received a text, but he hadn’t. Two were from Eloisa. One from Stefano.

  I will not tolerate this, Taviano.

  This had better not be true.

  Stefano’s message followed: Eloisa is in an uproar.

  Taviano found himself grinning for no reason at all. He looked down at the woman lying motionless, curled up like a little kitten in the middle of his very large bed. There was his reason, right there. She had given him a reason to make his world right again.

  Nicoletta turned her head and lifted her long lashes. He loved those lashes. The way they were so thick. The way they curled at the tips. “What?”

  He caught up his phone and showed her the text messages. “Eloisa is on the warpath. She will not tolerate this. I suppose our marriage is the ‘this’ she is referring to.”

  Nicoletta sat up immediately, pushing at stray strands of thick, dark hair falling around her face. She didn’t seem to notice the way the strap of the tank on the right side had fallen off her shoulder and most of the top curve of her right breast was exposed, a tempting allure that drew him like a magnet.

  “Oh, no, so early in the morning, too.”

  He turned, put his knee on the bed and leaned into her, brushed a kiss on her lips and then bent his head to that curve there was no way to resist. He was gentle, his mouth moving over her breast, tongue tasting, teeth easing the material down until he uncovered her nipple. If she had moved away from him, he would have stopped. She didn’t. If she had stiffened, he would have stopped. She didn’t.

  Her gaze met his, searched his. He let her see his desire. He wanted Nicoletta to know that no matter what, he found her attractive. More than attractive. He took his time lowering his head a second time, waiting for her to pull back. His mouth closed over her breast, drew it into the heat of his mouth. He was careful to be gentle, not let the wildness in his nature and his need of her get the upper hand, not even when hot blood rushed through his veins and hit his cock like a fireball.

  He didn’t use his hands. He didn’t in any way act possessive, when he was all about possessive. He was born for this woman. His soul matched hers. Fit hers like a key. His body was made to pleasure hers. He knew it as surely as he knew he was a Ferraro. Still, he was careful, because Nicoletta had to know she was safe with him, especially when they came together in their bed, no matter how they came together.

  He lifted his head, kissed the red mark he’d made and then brushed another kiss across her upturned lips. “Good morning, tesoro. You’re irresistible with the light shining on you that way. And it really isn’t all that early. It’s close to noon. You take a shower while I see what I can find us for breakfast.”

  Nicoletta touched the mark on the curve of her breast with her fingers. “She’s going to come here. Eloisa. She’s probably already on her way.”

  “No doubt.” He couldn’t look away from the way her fingers held his mark to her, almost as if she were protecting it. Then she stroked a little caress across it. His heart reacted with a strange jerk.

  “I’m a grown man, Nicoletta. She can’t very well come here and order me back home or threaten to cut me out of the family fortune. First, I’m independently wealthy, and second, she can’t cut me out of the trust. Stefano is in charge of the riders and he is head of the family. She has no control in my life and hasn’t since I was ten.”

  He realized that was true. He had turned to Stefano for everything, cutting out his parents, and Eloisa and Phillip had allowed it. If Stefano had noticed that he shouldered more responsibility in the raising of Taviano, he never said so, but then he wouldn’t.

  “What do you want me to do when she gets here?”

  “I’m not certain yet,” he said honestly. He didn’t know. “I believe Eloisa is ashamed of the choices she’s made over the years. I’ve had a lot of time to think about things. She hasn’t been able to look at any of her children since making her decision. She grew colder and pulled away from all of us. Maybe she loved Phillip, and all she had left to her was riding shadows, because Phillip didn’t love her. He didn’t love any of us. He was selfish and vain. All he seemed to care about was other women. He used shadows to have affairs, further twisting Eloisa into a bitter, lonely woman.”

  Nicoletta leaned her chin into the heel of her hand and stared up at him with her large dark-chocolate eyes. Last night she had wanted to hunt Eloisa down; this morning, there was a small hint of compassion in her eyes. His warrior woman could definitely be a rider. She would learn to balance the need for vengeance with the will for justice.

  “The death of my youngest brother, Ettore, really separated her from everyone. He was born premature and very fragile, his lungs weak and his body unable to deal with the terrible toll the shadows took
on the riders. Stefano warned our parents repeatedly that Ettore shouldn’t be a rider, but imperfection was never tolerated in the Ferraro family. Phillip just didn’t care enough to bother, but Eloisa was fierce about our reputation, and she believed that Ettore simply needed to work harder to bring his body to maximum physical perfection. Others had done it, and so could he. He died in the shadow tube, and Stefano has never forgiven her. More importantly, she has never forgiven herself.”

  “It’s so sad. All of it. On the outside, so many people envy what the Ferraros have, yet no one really knows what other people go through, do they?”

  Taviano shook his head. “I think Eloisa has always felt alone. My grandparents really loved each other. And they loved us. But they weren’t quite so wonderful with their children as we’d all like to think. They were so wrapped up in each other they ignored them, leaving them to be raised by a series of nannies and then shipped off to families in other countries to be trained.”

  “The traditions Eloisa followed.”

  He nodded. “She didn’t find a partner, so they arranged a loveless marriage for her. Sadly, she fell in love, but Phillip didn’t. He courted her and pretended, but he didn’t really care. For someone like Eloisa, that made it all the worse. I’m certain she felt a fool. I’ve often wondered if that’s why she objects so strenuously to Francesca. She can see Stefano loves her so much, and it scares her for him. The same with Ricco and Giovanni and now Vittorio. She doesn’t want them to suffer the way she did.” He shrugged. “Who knows what goes through her mind. I’ve spent far too much time speculating on her behavior.”

  He held out his hand to Nicoletta, and she took it immediately. He wanted her showered and dressed before Eloisa arrived—and he knew she would be coming. She was like a storm, and he felt the brewing already stirring up the air. He pulled his new wife to her feet.

  “I’m certain Eloisa interferes in our lives now to prove to herself she can’t have a relationship with any of us. She was particularly horrible to Francesca, who truly, in all of our opinions, is the kindest woman on the planet. I think Eloisa is terrified of being accepted. Of actually having a relationship and loving someone and having them hurt her. She doesn’t know how to relate to anyone anymore with the exception of Henry. He grew up in her family, and she spends all her time with him now, She’s different with him. He’s not a rider—he works with the cars. A good man and very loyal to our family.”

  Nicoletta was silent for a moment, and then she met his eyes. “She’s too ashamed, the way I was, so she’s self-destructive and pushes everyone away from her. That’s what you think, isn’t it?”

  “Not like you, piccola. I was thinking more like me. You aren’t anything like she is.”

  Nicoletta shook her head but didn’t react to his statement. “I’m going to take a shower. You go find us food. If she’s really on the way, I hope you realize that no matter how much compassion you have for her, what she did was wrong. You’re her son, and even now, you’re trying to find excuses for her. I’m not going to get over it that easily, and she’s going to be tearing into me. It might be a good idea for me to go for a walk after breakfast. That path in the woods looked really intriguing.”

  Was he making excuses for Eloisa? Had he been unconsciously trying to find reasons for his mother’s behavior his entire life? It was possible. Children did that. Was he still doing it? “You aren’t deserting me and leaving me to the wolves.”

  “At least you know Eloisa is a wolf, mio marito.”

  She flounced off toward the master bath. Within minutes he heard the shower come on and then a squeal and more water running and more squeals. Laughter followed. She definitely was adventurous. She hadn’t come back to ask him to show her how to use the various dials. She also hadn’t asked him for a map of the house. He liked that she at least identified him as her husband and that she hadn’t pulled away when he’d kissed her good morning and spent time with his mouth on her breast.

  Taviano dressed carefully, but in casual clothes. They would be meeting with Stefano again very soon. Stefano had already devised a plan to take down Valdez and his army of gang members. The Ferraros would prefer to take the fight to them, keep it out of their own territory if possible. They knew Valdez would send his men there, hoping to catch them unawares and get to Lucia and Amo so Nicoletta would come quietly with him.

  Benito Valdez didn’t really know Nicoletta. If she did come quietly with him, she would slit his throat the moment she got the chance. The man would never be able to go to sleep again. If the Demons did manage to get their hands on anyone Nicoletta loved or cared for, she knew the Ferraros would be coming through the shadows for them. She would just have to provide a distraction.

  Taviano looked around his kitchen. He loved to cook. Now, having his woman in his home, the kitchen was suddenly completely different. He opened the crisper and found the vegetables he’d ordered delivered for their morning breakfast. He began quickly grilling them for omelets.

  Nicoletta came into the kitchen looking beautiful in a light blue blouse tucked into a darker blue flowing skirt he was certain Lucia had chosen. A wide hand-painted leather belt cinched her small waist. The outfit was classic Lucia’s Treasures and looked as if it could be worn on the streets of one of the smaller villages in Italy or in New York and fit easily into either place. That was the beauty of Lucia’s fashions.

  “Something smells delicious.”

  “Coffee’s on.” Taviano indicated the pot in the corner of his workstation. He was already working on his second cup.

  “I love the way coffee smells first thing in the morning,” she admitted. “And don’t you love the sound of those birds?” She did a little spin and then poured the coffee into a cup before going to stand beside the open door. The screen was in place to keep insects out, but Taviano loved the sounds of the birds as well, especially when he was cooking.

  “Sometimes I play music, but most of the time, I just listen to the birds and the frogs, although they only sound off if it’s early or right after a rain.” He indicated the smaller table inside the rounded alcove. He preferred that space to eat breakfast unless he was eating outside.

  He turned his head toward the front of his house. “She’s here.”

  “How can you tell? There wasn’t a car.”

  “She used the shadows. Feel the difference in the energy, Nicoletta.” He kept his voice low. “You can always feel an intruder. Our home has a specific energy. A particular set of notes to it. Call it a vibration. Once you get it, you’ll know when one note is jarring or out of place. Our family never jars, not even Eloisa, but the notes play differently.”

  Nicoletta didn’t argue or act like he was crazy. She didn’t even lift an eyebrow at him. Instead, she nodded her head, frowning a little. Concentrating, as if listening, or trying to feel what he was explaining to her. She reached out and touched her fingertips to a shadow and then threaded her other fingers through his. At once, the jolt of their connection hit them both hard.

  Taviano hadn’t expected their combined energy to be so potent. He should have. Their power was growing, so the sexual component between them had to be as well. Sex, power, their minds merging; the connection was so strong, just their fingers threaded together nearly pulled them from their chairs into the thin tube she had placed the tips of her fingers into.

  He used the strength of his body to hold them in place. “Breathe. Use the meditative breathing.”

  Nicoletta heard him, although he spoke in a mere whisper. She began immediately, matching her breath to his. He could feel his mother getting closer, the weight of her disapproval obvious with every step she took. Her dark censure sank into the flooring and spread through the house like doom, moving ahead of her.

  “Feel her? She’s close to us now. In the hall.”

  “Yes.” Nicoletta breathed the word back to him. There was triumph in her mind. Excitement that
she could feel the energy vibrating through the house, even though it was negative energy.

  Nicoletta pulled her fingertips from the shadow and picked up her fork. She let go of Taviano’s hand and casually pulled her legs up under her skirt as Eloisa walked into the room. Taviano had seen her do that so many times, tuck her legs onto a chair in tailor-fashion, making herself smaller. It had never bothered him until now, until this moment when his mother had entered their home and he wanted Nicoletta to realize that Eloisa was in Nicoletta’s territory, not the other way around.

  As always, his mother looked elegant. There was no other word for Eloisa. She might storm into a room like a wild tornado, but she commanded it and drew every eye. She was tall and beautiful, timeless in her beauty. Her hair was still thick and dark, streaked now with silver, but classy, as if she had been kissed by the sun. When she walked in and the morning sun hit her, she looked as if she might have wings. He knew that look was very deceiving.

  “Good morning, Eloisa.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Ferraro,” Nicoletta added.

  Taviano wished he was sitting next to his bride instead of opposite her. Her voice was soft and musical, but just that little bit hesitant, and he knew his mother would catch that, chew her up and spit her out. If he had been sitting close, he could have shielded his bride, put his arm around her, at least protect her a little with his larger body.

  “I despise being called that,” Eloisa hissed, glaring at Nicoletta.

  “What would you prefer I call you, then?” Nicoletta asked.

  Eloisa put her doubled fists on her hips and leveled her cold gaze at Taviano’s wife. “I would prefer that you didn’t speak to me at all.”

  Before Taviano could reprimand his mother, Nicoletta nodded. “I would prefer that as well, but in my home, which is here and, obviously, with Lucia and Amo, you can do your best not to be rude or don’t bother coming around. Outside of either place, we’ll agree I won’t speak to you and you don’t speak to me.”