She moistened her lips and nodded slowly because he was waiting for an answer. She always answered him truthfully. That was their agreement. There would be honesty between them, even if it was difficult. “It’s happened. But I don’t know what you mean by a portal.”
“We refer to the tubes as portals because the shadow itself can transfer us from one place to another.”
Automatically, Grace shook her head. “That’s not scientifically possible.”
“Nevertheless, we’ve done it. I can step into a shadow and be gone from one end of the house to the other. My brother Giovanni was shot and had to have hardware, pins and bolts, just like you have in your shoulder. Because of the hardware, he can’t ride the shadows, so he drives a car here when he comes. The others don’t want anyone, especially Haydon, to know they’ve left their homes, so they use the shadows. It’s necessary to make him think, if he’s watching, that we’re all going about our regular business.”
She stared up at him, trying to change what he said, or change her comprehension. She just wasn’t hearing him correctly. “You are telling me that you and your family are capable of moving in this house, from one end to the other, using a shadow? Not walking in that shadow, but you step in, can’t be seen, and you come out in another room.”
“That is correct. We were trained from the time we were two years old. It isn’t easy. The energy force feels like a strong magnet pulling the body apart. You actually feel as if you’re flying apart. Skin, bones, blood, your very cells. It isn’t a pleasant sensation.”
She’d felt that exact sensation. “You can really do that?”
He nodded slowly. “I know it sounds insane, but I do it all the time. I can step into that shadow cast by the fireplace.” He indicated one that danced on the wall and carried over to the other side of the room. “Once I do, it will take me to the spot by the door where it merges with the light.”
She knew he was going to demonstrate and she wasn’t certain how she felt about it. If he really could do it, it was the coolest thing ever and she wanted to be able to do it. “If it’s true and you could teach me, maybe I could actually get evidence on Haydon, enough for the cops to arrest and convict him.”
“A man like Haydon Phillips won’t stay in prison and you know it, Grace,” Vittorio said gently. “He’s too good at what he does. The man can be anyone and he’s slippery. I’ve read the reports on him, and we’ve got just about everything possible on him from the time he was first put in a foster home until he shot you.”
She stared up at him, the firelight dancing across her face. When she looked down, she was surprised to see the shadows flickering across her bare breasts. She’d almost forgotten she wasn’t wearing much in the way of clothing. “He said his parents loved him, but were too poor to keep him.”
“He lied to you. You know he lied to you because you heard those lies, cara.”
She flinched at the gentleness in his voice. She’d heard the lies, even as a child, but something had always kept her from challenging Haydon, even way back then. She had stood up for him the first time their foster father beat him. He’d been shocked, but after that, he’d seemed to genuinely try to shield her. For a time, she thought of him as her only family. That hadn’t lasted long.
“You had us investigated? Both of us?”
“That’s how it works. I didn’t give a damn what was found on you, Grace. You were mine no matter what and I made that clear.”
“Even to your mother.”
“Especially to Eloisa. You are capable of having children that can ride shadows. That’s what she was talking about. That’s what is important to her. I want children, but if we can’t have them, we’ll have a good life without them.”
His voice rang with truth. She studied his face. He was still wary. She could see it in his eyes. He hadn’t told her anything to put that look on his face. He had, several times, reiterated that if she knew what he did, what his family did, there was no going back, the consequences to both of them would be dire—at least that was how she interpreted what he said.
“Are you going to show me?” She invited him because she was suddenly certain he was telling the absolute truth, but whatever he hadn’t revealed was going to shake her. She was certain of it.
Without waiting, Vittorio stepped into the largest shadow. Because they were so connected through their shadows, she felt the jolt. That sensation of flying apart. Vittorio completely disappeared and reappeared outside on the patio.
Grace found herself smiling and then laughing. “That’s so cool, Vittorio. I wish I’d known how to do that. I could have gotten away from Haydon and actually lived my life. I love that you can do that. That our children will be able to do it.”
He walked in, that wary look still on his face. “This isn’t an easy life, bella.”
She heard the warning and forced herself to learn it all. “Once you get your reports from the investigators, Vittorio, and everyone concludes the petitioner isn’t lying, why do they turn the results over to the shadow rider?”
“A shadow rider is considered the most important person in the family. When I say family, I’m talking extended family. All the businesses, the bankers, the jewelers, the hotels and casinos are all run by Ferraros. We have family spread throughout several states. There’s a reason for that. Riders are considered so important that, although they are trained in every manner of self-defense, they must have bodyguards with them when they move around a city.”
“And you’re a rider. Stefano and Ricco, all your brothers and Emmanuelle. That’s why you all have bodyguards.”
He nodded and sank to the floor at her feet, pushing her legs apart to sit between them. His hand moved up her right leg slowly, her ankle, her calf, and then caressed the back of her knee to slide up her thigh.
She gasped at the sensations pouring into her. She didn’t want to lose track of what they were discussing, and she knew he could so easily sidetrack her. “You can’t distract me, Vittorio. You still have some revelation you don’t want to tell me, and you need to just get it over with.” She looked down into his face. So gorgeous. It wasn’t just his beautiful, very masculine features, it was the way he was inside. “I’m in love with you. There isn’t anything that you can tell me that is going to change that.”
His eyes met hers in a kind of wary challenge. “And if I told you a shadow rider is essentially an assassin?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Vittorio cursed himself under his breath in both Italian and English. What a complete idiot to blurt the fucking truth out when so far, he’d been careful, choosing every word so she would understand. He could have said a shadow rider administered justice, but no, he had to just come right out and call it what it truly was. He killed people. There was no getting around it. Cousins called him in from New York or Los Angeles and he did his duty. He killed a criminal the law couldn’t touch.
He didn’t take his eyes from her face. She continued looking down at him without blinking, her green eyes wide, looking so shocked he wanted to kiss the look off her face. Her red hair fell in a long slide out of the messy knot she liked to wear in the bathtub or hot tub. Her breasts rose and fell, betraying her agitation. Finally, she shook her head.
“That can’t be true, Vittorio. I don’t believe you.”
“Why wouldn’t you believe me? You’ve believed everything else I’ve told you and you can hear lies. Do I sound like I’m lying?” He did his best not to sound bitter.
He had accepted his life. He was born a rider. He was a damn good rider and more, he was good at his job. He was fast, and he dispensed justice without the criminal feeling pain—even if he felt they deserved it. He was always able to keep his emotions under control. Sometimes the things he read in the reports or saw in person gave him nightmares, but what he did, he wouldn’t do unless he was absolutely sure the criminal had committed the crimes. Still, one could feel bitterness when their entire life was duty and the only thing they’d ever asked for themse
lves might walk away and take everything with them.
She took a deep breath and shook her head a second time. “Honey, you need to go a little slower. You jumped over something and I’m not computing what you’re saying. I know the heart of you and I’m not wrong. I can’t be wrong. I gave you my absolute trust. I put myself in your hands. I have to believe in you.”
He’d shaken her. Shaken her faith in herself. Shaken her faith in him, but she was determined to hang on, to see it through.
He rubbed her leg because he had to touch her. Had to stay connected. “You’re right, vita mia. I did jump us forward. I’m risking everything telling you about my family. For the first time that I can remember, I’m totally fucking things up when I need to explain everything very carefully to you.”
She leaned toward him. “Start again with the shadow riders. You’re given a report that says absolutely Haydon Phillips is a serial killer. What do you do?”
“The report is given to Stefano. He’s the head of the family.”
“Not Eloisa?”
He shook his head. “She was replaced by Stefano years ago. She was—difficult. As riders, you have to have absolute faith in the head of the family. He has the last word in everything. Every single thing. We all defer to Stefano, which means he carries a tremendous burden. He’s responsible for our safety. For our reputations. He has to make absolutely certain those reports are correct and, in fact, the investigation continues even after the report is given to the shadow riders.”
Vittorio continued to stroke her leg. Her skin was soft. She never once pulled away from him and he needed her right then. He needed her acceptance of him in spite of the truth he’d blurted out like a madman. His fingers danced up her leg to the tiny strip of leather covering her sex. He stroked the tight red curls between the laced cord that held that tiny strip in place while his mind sought for the right words.
“I love you, Grace.” He had shown her. He’d implied it. He wasn’t certain he had ever said the words to her, but he knew he meant it. He hoped she knew it, too. He touched her with love. He looked at her with love, he knew because every time he saw her, his heart melted, or clenched or just plain ached with love for her.
Her green eyes remained absolutely steady on his face. “I love you, too. I do. I know I do, but we have to talk about this. I want to slow down and go back to Eloisa. I’m not an over-the-board feminist, but I do believe in equality, and if Eloisa is your mother, no matter how difficult, she is still head of your family, isn’t she?”
His first gut reaction was instant denial, but he was used to taking his time before reacting, and he realized she thought Eloisa wasn’t at the helm of the riders because she was a woman. He shook his head. “A woman can easily hold the position as head of a family of riders, but to be in that position, one has to have both compassion and wisdom. Eloisa is all about duty. Our lives are ones of duty. It doesn’t matter if we’re sick or weak, or unwilling. She expects every rider to pull his weight no matter what is happening in his or her life.”
Vittorio continued to stroke her soft inner thigh, realizing that for the first time in his life, he needed the connection with a woman. He had never felt a need bordering on desperation until he faced losing Grace. He’d always had his family, his brothers and sister, and they had formed a unit so strong, when he was younger, he hadn’t thought he would ever need anyone else. Loneliness taught him otherwise. Grace had filled all those lonely places, replacing them with laughter and conversation. She’d given him the purpose he needed there in his home to maintain his balance in a world of stark duty.
“I had a younger brother, Ettore, born just eleven months after Emmanuelle. He had respiratory problems when he was born, and the problems worsened as he grew. He was always weaker, although he tried so hard to follow the dictates of our training regimen. We all started instruction at age two. Everything is about training from that point on. For Ettore, it became a nightmare of being yelled at and being unable to do something so simple as breathe. The worse his respiratory problems became, the more was demanded of him to make him stronger. No matter what the rest of us said, or did, he was expected to keep up.”
He didn’t realize his fingers had closed around her thigh like a vise. She didn’t wince, not even when his grip bit into her leg. He let her go the instant he realized what he was doing. “I’m sorry, mia amore, I have a difficult time when it comes to those memories. All of us do. “
Her fingers sifted through his hair, her touch soothing. “You didn’t hurt me.”
He was a very strong man. He hoped what she said was true and he rubbed at the smudge marks left behind on her skin. “Ettore’s life was a nightmare. Nothing he did was ever good enough. We tried to shield him, but one had to be perfect in all things. Always. If you fell below Eloisa’s high standards, your life was hell. Ettore lived in hell.”
“What about your father? Couldn’t he stop her?”
“Phillip couldn’t care less about any of us. He wasn’t a rider, not in the sense of one who dispensed justice. He wasn’t trained. It was an arranged marriage and the two barely spoke. He certainly didn’t bother with us, and he would never have gone against Eloisa in training us as riders. Stefano took care of us. He wasn’t that much older, but he still acted as our parent, both mother and father.”
“That explains a lot about him,” Grace murmured.
“Stefano tried to tell Eloisa that Ettore couldn’t be a rider, that his body wouldn’t take the punishment. You can be torn apart and it can be just too hard on a rider, but Eloisa insisted. No child of hers would dare be less than perfect. She sent him into the shadows when he had just turned sixteen. Stefano wasn’t there to stop her.”
He closed his eyes, memories of that terrible day washing over him. Choking him. He turned his head away from her, not willing for her to see that losing Ettore was still a raw wound that would never be healed, no matter how much time went by. “Stefano brought his body out and we buried him, but he took over as head of the family of riders. He’d always been the parent to us, and we all lost faith in Eloisa’s leadership. She was so driven to show the other rider families that we were perfect that she risked Ettore’s life.”
“I’m so sorry,” Grace murmured. “I really am. I understand the dynamics of your family a lot better. Even after seeing you do it, it’s difficult to believe someone could use shadows to get from one place to another. It’s easier to believe that there really is a way to move through the shadows when I listen to you talk. It’s clearly a way of life to you and there are obviously other families besides yours that are capable.”
“Mariko is from Japan. Her family, on her father’s side, were legendary riders. They’re all gone now, but she’s a strong rider.”
The grip grief had on him was lessening and he turned back to her. “I know Eloisa is harsh and can be as cold as ice. She shreds people and she must have done so to you when you tried working with her, but she saves her best work for us.”
Her hand cupped the side of his face and she leaned down. He kissed her. Her mouth was everything he needed. Hot and wild. Tantalizing. That elusive, incredible taste he was addicted to. She transported him instantly into a world of sensation, of feeling, every cell in his body alive. Electricity arced between them, little strikes crackling against his skin, spreading flames over him. Dark, erotic images filled his mind as a dark erotic taste filled his mouth. Heat spread throughout his body, fire burning down his spine and roaring like an inferno in his belly.
She continued cupping his face gently in her hands. He simply pulled her from the chair right onto the floor with him, kissing her over and over. She was . . . salvation. Everything good. She lit up a room just as she lit up his life.
Grace did what she always did when he kissed her—she gave herself to him. Surrendered completely. His hands moved over her body, claiming everywhere he touched and she arched her back, giving him full access to any part of her he claimed. She took away sorrow and anger, replacing
it with acceptance and love.
Vittorio kissed his way down her throat to the swell of her breast before lifting his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Grace cuddled into him like the kitten he often called her. He loved when she did that, when she stayed close to him.
“Tell me what happens when Stefano is given the report on the criminal and petitioner,” she urged.
He knew it was important she know every detail. She had to accept their way of life, or he would have to give her up. Their shadows were tangled already, so much so he knew if she didn’t accept him and they had to be untangled, he would never be a rider again. She wouldn’t remember him or their relationship. This was the most dangerous moment of all to him, but Vittorio knew he had no choice. He kept his arms around her, holding her to him, as if he could physically keep her.
“Stefano would turn the reports over to our cousins in New York or the ones in Los Angeles. We don’t work in our own cities as a rule. There can be no ties back to our family. That’s for the protection of everyone. Obviously, it doesn’t always work that way, but for the most part, we’re careful never to have anything personal touch us.”
“I still don’t really understand.”
“If we’re called to go to New York, two of us very publicly board our private plane. A third will ride the shadows so there is no evidence of him or her ever leaving the city. The two in plain sight make certain the paparazzi take multiple pictures. Cousins meet us at the airport and escort us to some club where we party hard in front of the media. More pictures. Pictures with the cousins are taken.”
“You set up alibis.” Grace rubbed her face on his chest and then pressed her ear over his heart. “That’s why you’re always in the tabloids, you make certain you’re seen.”
“Exactly. No one would ever suspect us and if they did, we’re in plain sight. Nothing to hide. It works very well.”
Shadow Warrior Page 31
