Fire Bound

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Fire Bound Page 11

by Christine Feehan


  "Then the Porcelli family hit yours."

  "They killed everyone at home that day. All the soldiers. Everyone working for us." She took a breath, trying to drown out the screams. "The gardener, his family, the housekeeper and girls who worked in the house." Her heart pounded. She hadn't let that door open, not like this. Remembering. Not telling a story from long ago, but letting the memories take her.

  She could barely breathe with fear. The sound of gunfire and the smell of blood. The dogs chasing them across the field, into the trees and cemetery. The hot breath on her leg and the feel of teeth tearing into her flesh. She moved her legs restlessly, the scars running up her leg and ankle throbbing with pain.

  "I couldn't keep up with my parents and they came back for me. The dogs were on me and they fought them off. My father shoved me ahead of them, told me where to hide and to stay very still. They led the dogs and Cosmos away from me. I saw when the dogs dragged down my mother. My father went back for her." She drew up her knees and rested her cheek on top of them, rocking a little to comfort herself. She would never forget that sight as long as she lived. Most nights, when she tried to sleep, she would see the dogs ripping apart her mother and father and the ring of men standing around them laughing.

  He reached down, under the water, his fingers stroking the scars. Soothing her with his touch. His arm tightened around her. He kissed the side of her neck and then behind her ear.

  She hadn't forgotten their faces. Not a single one. She had identified the men to her uncle, and one by one, over the years, she had retaliated.

  "Tell me about Luigi's illness. When he's ill, what happens?"

  "I've never actually witnessed it myself. He always stays in his wing of the house. He told me he couldn't bear for me to see him that way. He's a very proud man. Papa never saw him ill either. He wouldn't allow my father or mother to talk to his specialist, he was too embarrassed."

  Casimir pressed hard against the back of the deep tub, alarm bells going off. Nothing Lissa said sounded right. None of it added up. His gut tightened into hard knots. The sixth sense deep inside that always warned him of trouble, that had kept him alive these years of maneuvering through minefields, told him there was far more to the story than Lissa was aware of. Even if her uncle did have multiple sclerosis, he had long periods of remission. Why wouldn't he go after those responsible rather than training a child for revenge?

  "The Porcelli family couldn't have killed all those loyal to your family."

  "No, those left rallied around Tio Luigi. He was able to get enough strong alliances that the Porcellis left us alone. That was part of the reason he couldn't go after those who killed our people. He had to agree to a treaty with them in order to protect everyone else. Of course, I didn't learn any of that until I was much older."

  "Let's go back to when the dogs and soldiers killed your parents. Did they search for you? Why wouldn't the dogs have discovered your hiding place?"

  She frowned. "I don't know. Cosmos put leashes on them and took them back to the kennels. I was there while they took the bodies away. I could hear them laughing and talking."

  "Do you remember what they said?" Casimir hated the tremors that wracked her body in spite of the hot water. He even added more heat in order to try to help alleviate the continual shiver that ran through her. He knew it was the memory, not the actual temperature of the room. "Come here, krasavitsa. Let me hold you. I know this is difficult for you, but now, more than ever, it is important you tell me everything you can remember of that day." Because something wasn't right.

  She let him turn her around so she straddled his lap, and he pulled her tight against his chest, one hand to the back of her head to force it against his shoulder. He wanted her to feel safe. She was safe as long as she was with him. He wasn't about to trust anyone else with her life now. He rubbed her back and then brought his hand up to the nape of her neck, fingers massaging to ease the tension out of her. He knew she was going to give him everything he wanted when her body began to melt into his.

  "It was a long time ago and I think I tried to block it out," she admitted softly. "They said things that didn't make sense, but I was a child. Something about my father being too stupid to see what was right under his nose. The new king was cooperative and they could get back to business without interference."

  "What business?"

  "I don't know."

  "Who was the new king?"

  "I have no idea what they were talking about. Luigi took over the family, but there was little left and you wouldn't call him a king. He retired to the sea, hours from our family home, and did gardening. With his illness, he wasn't active at all."

  Casimir pressed his lips to the top of her hair to keep from speaking. She took everything her uncle said at face value. Clearly she'd never questioned him, but then, why would she? He'd raised her. He'd trained her. He sent her out after those who had killed her parents, giving her all the information on those responsible.

  "Why do you think he'd be upset with you for having a relationship with me? He's your uncle. Surely he wants you to be happy." He tested the waters, striving for innocence when the question was anything but.

  "He dedicated his entire life to making certain we tracked down those responsible for the massacre. No family, no wife, no one to love him. He has only me. I had only him until I went to the States and found the women I chose to call my family. He said he took a vow to bring them to justice and had me do the same. Neither of us would marry or have children until it was done."

  Above her head he closed his eyes. Betrayal was a bad taste in his mouth. He took a breath. Had to tell her. Had to be the one to break her heart. "He has a family, Giacinta. A wife. Three sons. They live on a very large estate in the city. Only he comes here. And he only comes here when you are in Italy." He told her, knowing it would be a blow. Knowing he was going to break her heart. He cursed her uncle for being such a treacherous bastard.

  Lissa pulled away from him, sitting up straight, her eyes meeting his. Searching his. She held herself very still. "That can't be." She didn't sound sure.

  "It is. I thought you knew, but then little things you said told me you didn't. I wasn't certain why Luigi would keep the truth from you."

  "A wife? Three sons? I don't understand."

  She didn't want to understand. He understood that. He reached around her, turned off the jets and twisted the plug to allow the water to drain out. "Let's get you out of here and back in bed. You're shivering."

  "I'm not cold," she protested. "I need to understand what this means. If he has a family, why wouldn't he tell me? Why pretend all these years? How long has he been married?"

  "His wife is named Angeline."

  She stiffened. Looked shattered. Breathed deliberately in and out. Took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He wrapped her in a large towel. "What is it, Giacinta? Tell me."

  "I know that name. My mother had taken me to her friend's house. There was something going on, a party of some kind. I remember my mother getting upset with her friend. The friend was teasing my mother about Luigi dating someone named Angeline. My mother rarely got angry, but she seemed angry and said my uncle would never date Angeline. Then that awful man, Aldo Porcelli, dragged Mama off the chair and tried to kiss her. He said he wanted her to go home with him. But I remember the name Angeline because Mama was so adamant about Luigi not dating her."

  Casimir remained silent. The look on her face, so lost, so vulnerable, tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted to go into Luigi's room and cut his throat.

  "I know just about everything there is to know about the Porcelli family. Of course, Luigi did most of the research for me. I know that Aldo has one sister. Luigi didn't bother to name her because he said she was of no consequence, that the Porcelli family didn't allow their women to have any part of the business. I think I need to find out the name of Aldo's sister."

  He took the towel from her hands and began drying the beads of water from her body. "Mal
yshka, come to bed. This is all too much to take in. We need a lot more research before we go any further." He didn't need to do more research to know Luigi Abbracciabene had betrayed his brother and sister-in-law for power and money.

  "Why would Tio Luigi have me kill the men who murdered our family if he's in bed with them? That doesn't make sense."

  Luigi's logic didn't make sense to her, but it did to him. Casimir knew Luigi had the perfect weapon in Lissa. He'd trained her himself. He'd taken her into his home and shaped her into being what in Russia would be referred to as a torpedo or a kryshas, an enforcer. The Porcelli family didn't know about her. They had no idea that child still lived. Her existence had been kept a secret. Casimir knew her existence would always have to remain a secret, and that meant only one thing...

  When Luigi had wanted to visit his family, he became conveniently ill and "retired" to his wing of the house where she was strictly forbidden to go. Casimir would have bet his last dollar that Arturo, Luigi's most trusted man, had stayed behind with Lissa while her uncle had snuck out. Arturo had made certain she didn't try to go visit her sick uncle in his wing.

  "We need more information," he hedged.

  Her gaze jumped to his face. She went very still. "Don't. I'm hanging on by a thread, Casimir. If my uncle helped orchestrate the hit on my parents and deliberately deceived me all these years, I don't have very much to hold on to."

  He dragged her into his arms. "You have me. Put your thumb into the center of your palm and feel that. My heartbeat. Your calling card. I'm there. Inside you. I can't lie to you, malyshka. I can't turn on you. That mark means we're sharing something so deep there is no deception between us that would ever work. When your world is turning upside down, hang on to me."

  "He's my family."

  Casimir shook his head. "I'm your family. My brothers. All of them. Why do you think they contacted me in the first place? They love you, and they were worried for your safety. Your sisters on that farm love you. This man, if he has done the things we are beginning to suspect he's done, then he is not family."

  She lifted her chin. "You tell me why he would train me to kill and point me to the Porcelli family if he doesn't want justice. Tell me what you really think."

  "What I think and what I know are two different things." He didn't want to be the one to take away her entire world. He'd already given her far too much truth, and he couldn't bear the shattered look on her face. He wrapped his arm around her waist and gently coaxed her back toward the dark of the bedroom.

  "Why don't you want to tell me?" she persisted, sounding accusatory.

  He sighed. "I've felt more for you than I have for any human being since I was taken from my family. I didn't expect to have the kind of emotions for you I have so fast. Do you think I want to be the one to cause you hurt?" He jerked back the covers, his anger seeping to the surface in spite of his determination to stay in control.

  The temperature in the room had gone up several degrees, telling him he was close to an explosion. He was extremely gentle with her as he handed her into the bed. She didn't lie down, but scooted to the front of the bed, sitting with her back to the headboard, holding a pillow in front of her so tightly her knuckles turned white. He could see the slash of color in the darkness.

  "Don't you think I've been deceived long enough? It would hurt more to think you suspected something and didn't share it with me. I'm not so silly that I would lose my mind and confront my uncle."

  Casimir slid in beside her, sitting close, his thigh against hers as he drew her beneath his shoulder. He kept his voice very low. Matter-of-fact. Gentle. "He raised you to be his weapon. If he married Angeline Porcelli and Angeline's father and the son are dead, accidents a few years apart, what other heirs are there to the throne? The Porcelli family is already merged with the Abbracciabene family. Luigi has all the power and money for himself. He's been patient and appeared to be a good friend and ally. The old guard is dead. Everyone who would have been loyal to the father and son. You killed them off, one by one. You'd be his only loose end, and it would be easy enough to get rid of you."

  She was silent for a very long time, staring straight ahead into the darkness. She didn't cry. She simply sat still. It made sense. Casimir hated that it made sense. He was more than certain he had it right. If the Porcelli family had decided to murder the Abbracciabene family, they would have started with Luigi, multiple sclerosis or not. He was the biggest danger to them. No way would they have allowed him to live.

  "I have always trusted the information Tio Luigi gives me. I don't have very many other resources. I found Belsky myself because I didn't want to involve Tio Luigi in my hunt for the Sorbacovs just in case I missed. That's why I took a chance on such a lowlife double-dealing weasel like Belsky. I was protecting Luigi." She tapped her fingers on her thigh, her body very still, as if she held herself that way to keep from flying apart.

  Casimir couldn't imagine what she was feeling. Her only blood relative, the man she'd trusted all those years, had betrayed her parents and used her to get what he wanted. "Tell me what you want to do, Giacinta," he said. "Whatever that is, I'm with you."

  She drew her legs up slowly until she could trace the horrendous scars crawling down her calf, shin and ankle where the dogs had ripped chunks of her flesh away. He covered her hand with his own, feeling her fingers brush lightly over the deep scars.

  "We need information before we make a move. If you're right about him, he won't make his try for me until after I've dealt with Aldo. He'll give me Aldo's information and where best to hit him after I've taken out Cosmos. He'll give me a story about how it's now or never to get to him. Aldo would be the final hit."

  "What about Arturo? He had to have known. He's been with your uncle for years. All the other guards talk about him like he's the biggest deal to ever hit Italy."

  "He would have known," she agreed. "But he's totally loyal to Tio Luigi. He'd defend him with his life. If anything, because I trust him, he'd be the one to kill me, unless my uncle wanted to make certain I was really dead and planned to do it himself. Both of them would know he would only get one try at me."

  For the first time he realized that she might just be sitting beside him very, very still, but beneath the surface, a volcano was shimmering. It was there in the room with them, the heat rising so that he actually felt little beads of sweat forming on his body. A shimmer of light danced along the floor leading toward the door. He circled her ankle with his hand, keeping his eyes on the flame.

  "You can't set the house on fire."

  "Of course I can."

  He took a breath, willed her to breathe with him. "Not yet. We've got to make certain this isn't all conjecture. No matter what Luigi did, Cosmos and Aldo were involved, and they need to go down. I can question Cosmos before he meets with his accident. He'll talk."

  She shook her head. "Not if he's loyal to Luigi and Aldo."

  "Never forget who and what I am, malyshka," Casimir cautioned. "He'll talk."

  She turned her head and looked at him, her eyes searching his. He didn't know what he expected. Weeping. Anger. Shock. Anything but the determination he saw there. She was more like he was than he had first realized. She prized loyalty, and if her uncle had done such a horrendous thing as to have entered into a conspiracy with the Porcelli family and order the hits on her family, she was more than determined to see him pay.

  "We have to be certain," she said softly. "Angeline is a common enough name. We have to find out the name of Aldo's sister and then find out if it's the same woman my uncle is married to."

  "I can do that. I have many sources. We'll find out the information fast." His hands went to the messy topknot in her hair. She didn't protest when he took it down and slowly slid his fingers through the thick weave of her braid until her hair spilled free. "I brought your brush in." He picked it up off the nightstand. "Sit in front of me."

  "I can brush my hair." It was a halfhearted protest.

  "I know you can, but I
want to do it. I wanted to do it from the first moment I saw you boarding the plane. You looked so proper, your hair all up on top of your head, twisted into that perfect style. I knew then I wanted to see you all messy, your hair spilling across my pillow and your lips swollen from my kisses. That want grew into a need, and now I've got you with me and I intend to indulge in every little fantasy, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant."

  She turned her head to look at him, her eyes meeting his. He felt the impact all the way to his groin.

  "I don't think any fantasy is insignificant." Her voice had dropped an octave or two, just enough that she sounded sultry.

  Casimir wrapped his hand around her neck and leaned down to kiss her gently. Almost reverently. She didn't know it, but right there, in that moment, she was very fragile. Very vulnerable. Her world had shifted out from under her. The blow had to be terrible and, he knew, her mind would be racing, putting together all the little things from her childhood that hadn't added up. That she'd dismissed and refused to think about.

  He settled her between his legs and began to draw the brush through the long silky strands, hoping the simple act of brushing her hair would help to soothe her. No betrayal came at a good time and certainly not one that had been going on since childhood.

 

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