Mated To The Capo (Mafia Shifters Book 1)

by Georgette St. Clair

  Dominic, annoyed and more than a little concerned, shoved his chair back. Since when did Giuliana give a damn about who he mated with? He’d dated women over the years, and she’d never seemed to care. Maybe she was upset because this, unlike his other dalliances, was permanent? Damn, he hoped not. He liked Giuliana a lot as a person, he would hate to hurt her, and his life had enough complications right now.

  His wolf felt restless, pacing under his skin, itching for release. He couldn’t sit still right now, he needed to move.

  “My wolf needs a quick run. You stay here and wait for me, or you go straight home,” he told her. He headed outside, crossing the street to Greenwald Park, the giant rectangular green space that ran through both the east and west sides. There was a long iron fence dividing the pack territory in half. He’d eat his sandwich quickly, shift, go for a brief run, and then resume his collecting activities. Giuliana would still be waiting for him. She didn’t want to have to go back home and do secretary duty for her uncle.

  As Dominic strolled, he took enormous chomps of the sandwich, barely tasting it. But his senses were still sharp enough – he was heading deeper into the park, and he heard something rustling in the bushes. And he smelled unfamiliar wolf. And he smiled.

  Enemy.

  The packs kept to their own territories. If any pack member wanted to travel through another pack’s territory, they formally notified the pack headquarters and requested permission. If they failed to do that, then they were a soldier in enemy territory. A female would be taken prisoner and held for ransom, a male would be killed.

  He kept walking, and chewing. There wasn’t a single wolf in the entire city of Encantado who worried him enough to make him put his sandwich down – and furthermore, he was irritable and itching for a fight.

  As if the universe were answering his prayers, a wolf exploded from the bushes. The gray wolf was enormous, as were all warrior class wolf shifters. Its eyes glowed yellow with fury, ropes of saliva dribbled from its black lips. It blocked his path, tail lashing. He shoved the last of his sandwich in his mouth and brushed his hands off on his shirt, his bored expression unchanging.

  The wolf paused for a moment, as if confused.

  “I’m going to give you a freebie,” Dominic said, grinning fiercely. “Roll over and expose your belly, and I’ll just maim you, not kill you. You can live another day as a member of the world’s lamest pack. You’ll just be a gimp, that’s all.”

  The wolf threw back its head and howled in rage. The last howl of its life. It crouched low and then leapt, aiming for his throat. Dominic shifted in a blur of motion; nobody but Arturo could shift as quickly as he did. A disappointing twenty seconds after that, the wolf was bleeding out at his feet, its throat ripped open and spinal column nearly severed.

  Dominic shook himself and forced his angry wolf back inside the cage of his humanity, his fur melting into smooth skin, tail shrinking into his spine, fangs sinking back into his gums. Passers-by who’d been strolling by stood frozen, staring in shock, and then edging away. It had happened so quickly that they barely had time to react – damn it. He’d been hoping for a good round or two, at least.

  Dominic’s clothes had fallen off him when he shifted. A slender young woman in a business suit caught his eye and then let her eyes rove over him. His lip curled back and he growled at her, letting fur ripple over his face. She stifled a shriek and hurried off. Good. The only woman who should be admiring his naked body was Zoey.

  He dressed quickly, scowling down at the dead wolf, which had melted back into its human form. Looked like a Bianchi, with that strong Roman nose and too much hair product. Also the gallons of cologne. Was that a Bianchi pack requirement, or what? His sensitive shifter’s nostrils flared, offended.

  His phone rang, with the tone indicating that it was Arturo calling. He snatched it from his jacket pocket.

  “Let me guess,” Dominic said, nudging the dead wolf with the toe of his boot. “The mage’s board ruled in the Bianchi pack’s favor?”

  “Close. The mage’s board has decided to abstain,” Arturo said. “They feel the law is unclear in this case, so they’re not weighing in on either side.”

  Dominic felt a snap of anger. He hadn’t expected that at all. “The law is clearly on our side. Can we appeal to the National Council?”

  “It won’t help. A full out war between packs benefits the Mages. Both of our packs are getting too powerful, and this will thin our ranks and possibly eliminate one of our packs altogether,” Arturo said. “This was coming sooner or later anyway. The Bianchi pack is just using this as an excuse.”

  “Well, that explains why one of the Bianchis is taking a dirt nap right now,” Dominic mused. “He tried to jump me about sixty seconds ago.”

  “Huh. That was fast,” Arturo said. “The ruling came down mere minutes ago. It’s almost like he was lying in wait, just in case the ruling favored them. He’s in our territory, then? Where are you?”

  “Greenwald Park. He came at me from behind a bush. Primo was strategic about it, I’ll give him that. You know about the rumors that Jimmy was angling for Primo’s position? And then Primo sent him to kill me. Whatever the results, it would have been a win for Primo.” If Jimmy had succeeded, he would have made the Blood Oath pack look weak, and by taking out Dominic, he also would have taken out one of Arturo’s strongest warriors.

  “Wait a minute.” Arturo’s voice suddenly went sharp. “Isn’t Giuliana with you right now? Oh, never mind, I see she’s still at the sandwich shop.”

  “They wouldn’t mess with a non-combatant female unless they want every shifter pack in the country to declare war on them,” Dominic said. “Wait – do you have a tracker on your niece?”

  Silence.

  “So, something in her phone, or on her clothing,” Dominic mused. “Nahh, she’d know it was on her phone and if she wanted to sneak off anywhere she’d leave her phone behind. Maybe something on a piece of jewelry?”

  There was a long pause. Arturo’s voice sounded surprisingly mild – for him. “Don’t tell her.”

  “Of course not, sir.”

  Not just because it was a direct order from his boss. Also, because Giuliana would rip her uncle’s face off or die trying. Or she’d try to run away, and Arturo would catch her and lock her up for a month and Giuliana would make everyone’s life hell.

  Arturo’s voice turned brisk and business-like. “Right. Attack on a pack member. We’ll have to answer.” By which he meant, kill someone from the Bianchi pack or sabotage their property. “Meet me at my office in forty-five minutes. Don’t bother fetching Giuliana, I’ll text her.”

  Dominic headed straight for the Arena. Giuliana was already there, with Otto and Arturo, sitting in chairs arranged in front of Arturo’s desk. They were skipping the socializing today; Arturo was pissed. His ears had gone pointy and furry, and he didn’t even bother smoothing them out.

  “Are you all right?” Giuliana asked Dominic, with genuine concern. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I’d have -”

  “You’d have stayed out of it or I’d have grounded you until you were dead,” Arturo snapped.

  “You can’t treat me like I’m a damned cub,” she muttered rebelliously. Arturo twisted to the side to fix her with his icy gaze and the temperature all around them dropped several degrees. He wasn’t a weather wizard; how did he do that?

  “What was that?” He snapped.

  “Nothing,” she said stiffly, and inclined her head to the left, exposing her throat in a show of submission.

  “Yes, that’s what I thought you said. Nothing.” Then he addressed Dominic – making a big show of ignoring his niece, which Dominic knew infuriated her.

  “We’re going to hijack one of their armored trucks tomorrow morning,” Arturo said. “Hit those bastards where it hurts – in the wallet.”

  Dominic nodded. “I’m going to suggest that if possible, we take his men prisoner rather than kill them. That way we -”

  “Bullshit
!” Ottavio barked, interrupting him.

  “Let him finish.”

  Dominic continued as if Ottavio hadn’t said a word. “We actually make ourselves look better this way. We’re not just fighting the Bianchi’s, we’re fighting a war of perception. Right now, the Bianchis are presenting themselves as the aggrieved party. To the Council of Mages, by choosing not to kill, we look as if we’re showing restraint. But we take the men hostage, we hold them for ransom, and that’s double humiliation for the Bianchis. And if they don’t ransom their men, then their pack members start to question their leadership.”

  Zoey would like that, he thought. He didn’t know why thoughts of her were popping into his head at a time like this, but he remembered the look on her face when he told her he had to go kill a man. And he hadn’t liked the way it made him feel.

  “Can I suggest another option?” Ottavio was vibrating with anger.

  “No.” Arturo dismissed him and turned away. “You will be in charge of this,” he said to Dominic.

  “Sir?” Ottavio’s voice went up in scale and his face went furry with the effort to restrain his wolf. His clenched fists turned into paws.

  “This is a situation that calls for diplomacy,” Arturo said curtly. “You tend to kill first and ask questions afterwards.”

  Poor, simple Carlo sounded confused. “But Ott, how else would we do it? Ouch,” he added, as his brother punched him in the head. Then he let out a giggle. “That tickled.”

  Chapter Eight

  The community center was crowded, because the neighborhood residents were getting desperate. Even with the windows and doors shut, the sour smell of garbage permeated the air. Jordan sat in the front row, in his flashy suit and nice shoes.

  Zoey, Danielle, Stewart, Lorenzo and Andrea were up on the podium in the front of the room, facing dozens of business owners and frustrated renters and homeowners.

  They let Zoey do the talking about her plan for the community gardens, because her enthusiasm tended to be contagious. She had organized several successful fundraisers. Danielle, who had taken the night off from work, stood next to her and drank coffee, with her usual sour expression.

  “We’ll have the greenest space in all of Encantado! And we can use the fruit and vegetables that we grow to set up a free community kitchen!” Zoey finished. That had been her favorite part.

  But apparently the audience didn’t agree. They just stared at the women with expressions of horror on their faces.

  “Gee, tough crowd,” Zoey murmured to Danielle, taken aback.

  “What a bunch of butt-wipes,” Danielle said indignantly. “We worked hard on this plan. Well, you and Stewart and Andrea worked hard on this plan and I offered moral support. Well, I whined less than usual.”

  “Yes, you did.” Zoey bobbed her head in agreement. Andrea had kept Danielle’s mouth stuffed with apple dumplings, and as long as Danielle was chewing, she wasn’t bitching.

  She cleared her throat and pasted a big smile on her face. “If we can help out the homeless community here, there will be less crime, which benefits all of us!” she said into the microphone, her voice bouncing off the walls.

  Not a word. Everyone just stared in her direction, in frozen dismay.

  “Oh. It’s not you. I think there’s actually something behind us,” Danielle said, in a low voice.

  Zoey stood perfectly still, suddenly very aware of every beat of her heart. In Encantado, “something behind us” could be…very scary. She just prayed it wasn’t a ghoul. She didn’t want to spend her final hours in a killing rage ripping her friends’ flesh from their bones with her teeth. They probably didn’t want that either.

  Then again, she’d have smelled a ghoul, because from what she’d heard, they reeked enough that even garbage wouldn’t disguise their odor.

  The two women turned around very slowly.

  Ottavio and Carlo, of the Blood Oath Pack, had just walked in the room from the back door, and were standing behind them. Lorenzo’s face lit up and he looked at them admiringly. “The Blood Oath pack? Wow!” His mother smacked him on the arm.

  The room was completely silent.

  Danielle went pale and her coffee cup slipped from her fingers, a sure sign of how shocked she was.

  Ottavio opened his mouth to speak, but Dominic and Romano burst through a side door, and his mouth snapped shut again. From the look on Ottavio’s face, he hadn’t been expecting them and he wasn’t happy to see them. Carlo just stood there, glowering at the room with dull menace.

  Ottavio stormed over and started talking to Dominic and Romano in low, angry tones. While the men argued, the audience members jumped to their feet and began streaming from the room.

  Jordan stood frozen in place, with an uncertain look on his face, his eyes darting between Dominic and Ottavio.

  Ottavio crossed the room swiftly, stopping in front of Jordan, whose eyes widened in terror. “I understand that you have been collecting fees, but not paying the garbage collection company,” he said in a loud voice, although there was hardly anyone left in the room to hear him, and those who were still there were running in fear, not listening to Ottavio.

  Jordan started to protest. Ottavio shifted so fast Zoey barely saw it coming, and ripped Jordan’s throat out with his teeth. A fountain of scarlet jetted up from Jordan’s throat, and he staggered backwards and crumpled into a heap.

  Andrea went pale and grabbed Lorenzo’s arm and dragged him off. Stewart hurried after them, taking care to put his body between them and Ottavio.

  People ran out of the room screaming. Danielle followed them. She paused in the doorway, looking for Zoey. “Zoey, you moron, you can’t Pollyanna your way out of this one! Come on!” she screeched, and then ran for it.

  Ottavio’s cold gaze swept the room. He met Zoey’s gaze as she stood alone on the podium. “Collection will resume tomorrow.” He scowled at Dominic. “You didn’t need to come here. I had it handled.”

  “Since it involves my mate, yes, I did need to come here. And you shouldn’t have tried to keep me out of it.” Dominic’s voice held an edge of steel.

  “I don’t report to you,” Ottavio growled. “You’d do well to remember that.”

  And he left without a backward glance.

  Dominic walked over to the podium and helped Zoey climb down.

  “You all right?”

  She struggled to find her voice. “A little shaken.”

  “You should have told me about the garbage problem,” he said mildly.

  Zoey shot him a dirty look. “Excuse you? I mentioned that my neighborhood smelled bad.”

  “But I…okay, you did mention that,” he conceded. “I haven’t been here myself in months. I wasn’t aware that this was happening. Next time there’s a problem, let me know right away.”

  Zoey was swaying on her feet and struggling not to barf. Jordan had been a horrible human being, but seeing him killed right in front of her, so casually, made her feel ill. She backed away from Dominic. “Is that an order?”

  He didn’t pursue her, so she stopped moving. “That is a request,” he said, in a calm voice. “Your friends live here, right? I would think that if this neighborhood has issues, you’d want them taken care of, wouldn’t you? So, if you need help, ask me.”

  She glanced at Jordan’s body. She couldn’t stand here having a conversation with a dead body ten feet away from her and the smell of blood clotting her nostrils. She turned and hurried out of the back door.

  Dominic was right on her heels. He moved to block her as she hurried down the steps. “Where do you think you’re going?” he snapped her. “I was talking to you.” Romano trailed behind him, but stood back, giving them space.

  “I just saw a man killed right in front of me! Excuse me if I can’t make casual conversation when there’s a dead body ten feet away from me.” And she burst into tears.

  “Oh,” he said, sounding chastened. “I’m sorry. Really sorry.” And the next thing she knew, he’d gathered her in his arm
s. She sagged against him.

  “I apologize,” he said gently, stroking her back. “I’ve lived this lifestyle so long that death just doesn’t have much impact on me.”

  “Well, maybe it should,” she said, sniffling hard.

  “Yes,” he said, his voice surprisingly wistful. “Maybe it should.”

  She leaned against him longer than she should have, just because it felt so good. Finally, she stepped back. He let her go reluctantly.

  She heaved a sigh. “Thank you,” she said stiffly. “Are you saying that your boss didn’t know that the garbage wasn’t being collected?”

  “Of course not.” Dominic looked offended. “Jordan was supposed to be paying the garbage disposal company. I don’t know how the hell he thought he could get away with this.”

  “Well, he wasn’t the brightest bulb on the tree.” She tried to wrap her head around what he’d just told her. She didn’t think that he was lying. She got the impression, somehow, that he would never lie to her. He might tell her things she didn’t want to hear, he might refuse to answer her questions, but he wouldn’t lie.

  That changed her view of him just a little. One of the things she’d been most furious about was the thought of the Blood Oath pack ripping off poor communities and leaving them to live in filth, with no recourse. Now that she knew that wasn’t true, how did she feel about Dominic? She still didn’t know.

  He was violent and aggressive and a killer - but he was also capable of surprising tenderness and protectiveness.

  “It will never happen again,” Dominic told her. “I’ll be visiting the head of the garbage disposal company first thing tomorrow to see why they didn’t report the issue back to us.”

  Alarm flashed through her. “You’re not going to kill him, are you?”

  He looked puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “What’s the point?” Zoey said, feeling a surge of frustration. “They’re criminals. You’re criminals. The people in power here take whatever they can get away with. How are they any different than you?”

  His voice took on a crisp edge. “Is that how you see things?”