by Anna Lowe
She busied herself showing Amber a few of the pictures, then casually slipped in, “Oh, I’ll need that back, please.”
Amber nodded absently. “Good shot. Oh, great one! Boy, is Gary going to be jealous.”
The makeup girl worked the necklace out from under Amber’s poofy hair and handed it to Lena. As Lena reached out, the morning sun hit the diamond just so, and it radiated streams of brilliant light.
“Wow. There it goes again,” Antonia marveled.
For a moment, the light mesmerized Lena. But then she pushed the gem into her pocket.
“So, thanks,” Lena said, trying to move things along. Amber had already made an online payment, and Lena was ready to end this nerve-racking gig.
“Honey? Baby?” Amber called, but Vicente didn’t respond. She grimaced, then faked a smile. “Always working, my guy.”
Working on his next crime? Lena felt sure he was, but she held her tongue.
“My agent is going to love these pictures. And Gary…” Amber’s eyes glittered with malice. “Do you have time for another session? I was thinking of doing one of me and Vicente by the Trevo Fountain.”
“Trevi Fountain,” Lena murmured. “Um, I’ll have to check my schedule.”
A schedule that was wide open. But, damn. €250 an hour was hard to turn down. Was it worth it, though?
Behind Amber, Sergio gave a curt shake of his head. It’s not worth it. Say no.
He didn’t speak, but somehow, Lena knew exactly what he meant. But, dammit. She didn’t need a man telling her what to do. She could think for herself.
“I’ll check my schedule too,” Amber echoed. “Vicente is a very busy man. And I keep him even busier.” She waggled what was left of her plucked eyebrows. “I’ll call you, okay?”
Lena nodded. “Sure. That would be great.”
A delivery vehicle — one of those tiny moped pickup trucks — zoomed by, filling the air with exhaust fumes. Amber waved a hand in front of her nose. “I’m out of here. Bye.”
She stepped away, following Vicente and his bodyguards. Antonia fell into step behind them, but Sergio hung back.
“Don’t do it,” he grunted through lips that barely moved.
She swore his eyes were glowing faintly. How did he do that? And, damn. Where was that force field coming from — the one that seemed to draw her over? She inched closer…closer…
Sergio leaned closer too. His lips twitched, and his stormy eyes swirled. For one instant, the curtain over his eyes lifted, and she saw…sorrow. Regrets. Yearning. Enough to make her heart ache.
His eyes shone, and her mouth fell open, because what she saw next was desire. Not the raw, demanding kind. The kind that swore he would love, honor, and protect. Forever.
Forever, something inside her whispered.
Then Tolino, one of the bodyguards, called back, and the blackout curtain fell back over Sergio’s eyes. He spun around and followed the others, leaving Lena emptier — and more confused — than she’d ever felt before.
Chapter Three
Sergio endured an endless morning with Vicente before he finally managed to break away. Being around Vicente was always torture, but those hours had been doubly hard with his mind totally derailed. For a week, he’d dreamed of the woman in the park. And now, destiny had brought them together again.
Who was she? What was she? And why was his inner wolf so worked up?
Destiny, the beast murmured. It has to be.
His heart was still hammering, and the same word kept echoing through his mind.
Mate.
Our mate, his wolf agreed.
What else could do that to him? His pulse was skipping, his mind full of blissful images of her and him.
“Scusi,” he murmured to whomever he bumped into as he walked down the street.
Man, oh man. He had to get himself together.
But all he could see was the woman – Lena, that was her name, with her short, wavy hair, Julia Roberts smile, and intoxicating scent of jasmine and oleander. Above all, he saw those dark green eyes — eyes that would have seen right through him if he hadn’t thrown up a shield. Judging from what he’d witnessed in the park, she was more human than shifter, but her eyes had probed his the way only a powerful shifter’s could. Normally, he was on guard against that. But one look at her, and all his defenses had toppled.
Destiny, his wolf repeated breathlessly.
He frowned as he walked. What the hell was Lena doing around an ass like Vicente, one of Rome’s criminal masterminds? That other woman – Amber – could do whatever she wanted. But there was no way Sergio would let his mate stray into Vicente’s danger zone.
So why did you let her go? his wolf growled.
Sergio grimaced. If Vicente had noticed his interest in Lena, she would be vulnerable. Him, too, and that was new. For the past ten years, he’d been in the French Foreign Legion, and he’d never really appreciated the luxury of being unattached. The only people who cared about him were his brothers-in-arms. No Achilles’ heel — no girlfriend, wife…
Lover, his wolf murmured.
Sergio ran his hands through his short-cropped hair and straightened his tie, making sure that he looked sharp and not like some kind of criminal. Overcompensating, probably — as usual.
Of course, looking good and feeling good were two different things.
Oh, I feel good, all right, his wolf said. And I’ll feel even better when we track down our mate.
Pedestrians scurried out of his way as he stalked down the street. Checking his watch, he tried to slow down, being twenty minutes early for his rendezvous with Marco. But it was as impossible to slow his legs as it was to settle his churning mind.
Luckily, Marco wasn’t Liam, the lion shifter. Liam was always late, while Marco was always early. And indeed, there he was, the Portuguese dragon shifter, exactly where they’d agreed to meet at a riverside coffee bar — a place just shabby enough to be chic.
“Sergio,” Marco called out. “Shall I order you a doppio?”
“No.”
Sergio swung his jaw from side to side, waiting for Marco to pay. Then he closed his eyes and listened for the few traces of nature in the city. The rustle of dry leaves tinged gold in early fall. The faint gurgle of the Tiber on its way to the sea. The flutter of bird wings and the chorus of their calls. All those fleeting sounds filtering between the honk of car horns and straining mopeds.
“Not a good day?” Marco ventured as they got moving.
Sergio made a face. In some ways, it was a great day, because he had found his destined mate. A whole chorus of angels was singing in his mind, telling him how good life could be.
But, damn. She’d been too close to Vicente for comfort, and that did not sit well with him.
Then there was that diamond that exuded a brilliant light no shifter could miss. Vicente had noticed, for sure.
Briefly, Sergio summarized the morning for Marco, wishing his friend had been there to see the gem. Sergio was a simple, blue-collar kind of guy. Marco, on the other hand, came from the wealthiest dragon shifter family in Portugal. He would have known more about that jewel.
Who cares about the jewel? Who cares about Vicente? All we need is our mate, his wolf butted in.
The problem was, all three were connected. Worse, he had an ominous feeling that destiny was only starting to play games.
“Are you sure the diamond wasn’t just reflecting the sun?” Marco asked.
Sergio shook his head. “It lit up like a dazzler.”
Marco grimaced, no doubt recalling a close call with that weapon.
“It was reaching out. I could feel its power,” Sergio swore.
“But only for that instant?” When Sergio nodded, Marco went on. “Well, this will make my first day on the job interesting.”
Marco, like Sergio, was fresh out of the military. And like Sergio a month earlier, Marco was avoiding the prospect of going home. Thus, the new job in Rome. And dammit, Sergio was committed to seeing
his friend through his first day, so he had to stop dreaming about Lena.
“It will be fine. But we’d better not be late. The Guardians here aren’t as old school as London’s, but they have their standards.”
Every European city was protected by an elite group of shifters known as the Guardians. But that venerable institution had seen brighter times, and present-day Guardians were struggling to maintain peace and stability in the cities they loved.
Marco nodded, looking around. “Mostly wolves on the Council, correct?”
Sergio counted on his fingers. “Traditionally, the seats are assigned to three wolves, a bear, an eagle, and two dragons. One representative for each of Rome’s seven hills.”
He decided to leave out the details for the moment, like the fact that two of the seven seats were currently unfilled.
Marco straightened his jacket, ready to ace his job interview. Sergio had been through that ordeal a month ago when he had hesitantly returned to Rome. But it would be easy for Marco because he didn’t have a history with the place. Sergio, on the other hand…
“Is that it?” Marco asked as they walked around a bend and came into view of Isola Tiberina.
Sergio steeled his nerves as they approached the turbulent waters ringing the tiny island.
“That’s it.” He sighed.
So much history, so much intrigue summarized into two little words. Still, the Guardians had allowed him back into Rome. That was a near-miracle in itself, given what his family had done.
He gulped away the bile that always accompanied such thoughts and led Marco over the ancient Roman bridge to the island.
Isola Tiberina was only a quarter of a mile long, and the Guardian compound took up the entire southern tip of the island — a ramshackle cluster of ancient towers, walled courtyards, and imposing meeting halls. Within minutes, he and Marco were at the main gate, where a grizzled old wolf shifter inspected them through a tiny peephole.
“You’re early,” the guard snarled, recognizing Sergio.
“And?” he growled, tired of the attitude he got from everyone. Was it his fault he’d been born into the Monseratti clan?
The wolf guard backed away, grumbling. “Wait here.”
Soon, the man returned, grudgingly unbolted the door, and ushered them through. Then he slammed the door behind them and motioned. “You know the way.”
Marco looked surprised, but Sergio wasn’t. The Guardians of Rome were a no-nonsense bunch, and the guards… Well, they were as surly as ever.
He and Marco strode down the dim, unadorned hallway. The stronghold had been built for defense, not to impress, and the thick walls kept the temperature several degrees cooler than outside.
Soon, they exited into the blinding sunlight of an open courtyard, and Marco whistled at the sight of the bronze statue in the center.
“That she-wolf looks just like the original in the Capitoline Museum.”
“This is the original.”
“Isn’t she supposed to be suckling Romulus and Remus?”
Sergio shook his head. “That’s the human version of the legend. We stick to the facts.”
“Which are?”
“A shifter she-wolf founded Rome, not a couple of humans. Honestly — who ever bought that story of the twins?”
Marco chuckled. “I’ll give you that.”
Crossing the second half of the courtyard, they came to a heavy oak door with a burly guard who let them through after a careful look-over. A short hallway led to a huge chamber — nothing as fancy as Lionsgate Hall in London, but more impressive for its simplicity. Dark oak paneling covered the walls, and the ceiling was adorned with a fresco so old, the colors barely showed. But a close look revealed all of Rome laid out in a pastoral scene from centuries ago. Wolves howled from the crests of three of Rome’s hills, while two dragons, a bear, and an eagle reigned over the remaining four.
At the far end of the chamber was a huge table, and clustered around it were the Guardians, some standing, some sitting in hard, high-backed chairs. Ariana, the lone she-wolf of the group, looked up with a warm smile, and Sergio nodded back. Ariana was okay. As for the other Guardians, he still hadn’t made up his mind.
The Guardians continued speaking in low tones as Sergio and Marco approached.
“…expelled from Europe…banished to America…and now they’re back,” one muttered.
“Back, but unsuccessful in their quest to establish a new base of power. Thus far, at least.”
Sergio shot Marco a look. The Guardians were discussing the same topic that occupied shifters all over Europe: the Lombardis, a ruthless dragon clan hoping to seize power in Europe. Recent attacks had barely been repelled in Paris and London, and everyone knew it was only a question of time before the Lombardis struck again. The question was, where and when?
“Our predecessors were too generous to have banished and not executed them.” Dante, the oldest of the Guardians, looked mournfully into his goblet of wine.
Marco raised an eyebrow in a question, and Sergio sighed into his mind. That’s Dante, the dragon. The oldest of the Guardians — and I mean old.
“Our predecessors? Your predecessors,” a sturdy, silver-haired man complained. “We eagles warned of exactly this problem.”
That’s Gaius, Sergio whispered. Eagle shifter. Strict as hell.
Marco snorted. Do eagle shifters come any other way?
Remo, the blustery wolf from Palatine Hill, thumped a fist on the table. “Is it any surprise the Lombardis have returned, spreading trouble?”
“Gentlemen, please.” Ariana tapped on the table. “The question is how best to protect our city from possible attack.”
“Or infiltration.” Remo shot a sidelong glance at Sergio, who refused to take the bait.
Gaius frowned even more deeply. “My scouts have already reported a number of rogues.”
Ariana looked off into the distance. “We do our best, yet trouble persists. And the more unstable the shifter world, the more problems creep into the human world.”
“No wonder the government is in shambles,” Dante tut-tutted.
Ernesto Orsini, the bear shifter, nodded gravely.
“The government is always in shambles,” Ariana sighed. “But I agree it’s grown worse.”
Sergio and Marco exchanged glances. They’d shared the same concerns in private. The political parties leading Italy — and many other countries in Europe and North America — were increasingly xenophobic, isolationist, and leaning ever more toward extremes.
“However, we cannot give up hope,” Ariana went on. “Nor can we ignore more immediate threats.” She motioned Sergio closer. “Signore Monserratti, come forward.”
Sergio gestured to his friend. “As requested, I have invited a former comrade. Marco da Silva from Portugal.”
Marco turned on his abundant charm and made a circuit of the table, shaking hands. Clearly, a man accustomed to boardrooms and pompous old men.
Dante perked up at the mention of Marco’s last name. “Any relation to the da Silvas of Porto?”
Sergio rolled his eyes. Dragons and their noble lines. Typical.
Marco gave a little bow. “My father’s side of the family. My mother was from Madeira.” His eyes sparkled a little, the way a soldier’s did when he spoke of home. Something Marco rarely did, though Sergio had never asked why.
“Ah, Madeira.” Dante sighed appreciatively. “Outstanding wine.”
Dante had been a legendary warrior in his time, but in his twilight years… Well, Sergio wasn’t the only one who thought it was time the old dragon retired to his villa in Tuscany.
“Please, take a seat.” Dante signaled.
Sergio didn’t move, because it was clear the invitation didn’t extend to him. Marco put a hand on the nearest empty chair at the table. But everyone tensed, and Marco looked around in surprise.
“Not that one,” Dante said quickly. “That remains empty in memory of our fallen comrade, Leonardo D’Accardi.”<
br />
The name rang a bell with Sergio, though he couldn’t say why.
Marco held up his hands. “Apologies. I shall stand in his honor, then.”
Sergio sighed. Why couldn’t he come up with such slick lines?
Probably because he was the son of a complete lowlife. That, or the fact that he’d grown up with a single mother who’d barely made ends meet once she cut off ties with the criminal part of the family.
“Signore da Silva, we would be happy to have you on board. Do you agree to the terms of the contract we sent?” Ariana asked.
Marco gave a little bow. “I would be happy to accept.”
And just like that, Sergio found himself with a friend among the Guardians’ hired hands. An actual friend, not a foe.
Refreshing, his wolf murmured.
Ariana nodded, as did the others. “Allora. Signore Monserratti, what do you have to report?”
Sergio took a deep breath and related the events of that morning. Well, most of the events. He didn’t leave out Lena, but he didn’t dwell on her either. The less interest the Guardians took in an innocent bystander, the better.
“Interesting.” Gaius stroked his chin. “What have you learned about Vicente?”
Sergio stalled until all the expletives left his mind. He’d hated Vicente from day one. Plus, there was something about the man that seemed ominously familiar. Or was it just the ruthlessness, the utter lack of compassion?
Remo stirred the air, ever the fidgety wolf. “Come, Signore Monseratti. You were assigned to follow Vicente, thanks to your familiarity with the criminal world.”
Sergio’s cheek twitched, and he barely held back a muttered, Gee, thanks.
Marco shot him a sidelong glance.
Sergio sighed into his friend’s mind. In the Foreign Legion, no one had asked — or cared — about his past. But in Rome, everyone knew — and boy, did they care. Remo, most of all.
You could say Remo has a problem with my family.
And your family is…? Marco asked.
