by Anna Hackett
“Shh.” His finger briefly touched her lips and then he rose, his weight lifting off her. He held out a hand. “Unfortunately for me, it seems you calm my anger without us having to get naked.”
She stared at his hand for a moment before reluctantly taking it. When she looked around, she noted the hail had stopped.
“I need to help my people.” He moved to the edge of the roof, taking her with him. He looked down, shadows flickering in his eyes. The sound of sirens echoed around them. “Rayne?”
“Yes.”
Glittering blue eyes traced her face. “Grazi.”
She swallowed. “You’re welcome, Luca.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Not really.”
His fingers tightened on her hand. “I deserve that, but you can.” He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her, and stepped off the roof.
Rayne’s breath caught in her chest. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him. They fell, but instantly a strong wind caught them and lowered them gently to the ground. She glanced at Luca’s expressionless face. He had so much power inside him.
He released her, squeezed her hand, and then strode back into the square.
She watched as Luca moved through the crowd of people who’d gathered in front of the burned-out shell of his hotel. But she only had eyes for Luca’s broad form as he talked with the polizia, comforted a crying woman, and talked with a bedraggled man in a hotel uniform whose hands were bandaged. He carried an aura of power and authority that seemed to soothe people in the middle of a crisis.
But as Luca took care of things, she noted that he seemed stiff, not his usual fluid self. She knew he’d been injured in the fight, but she also knew he had enhanced healing abilities.
She moved over to him. “How badly are you hurt?”
“It’s healing.” He swiped a hand through his sodden hair. “I just need some rest.” His intense blue eyes burned into her. “You should go. Luckily, Caecius didn’t realize what you are. If he does, he’ll come after you.”
“I’m a trained Aurae warrior.” She wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone.
Luca leaned in. She smelled smoke on him, but also the scent she knew was pure Luca, pure male. Then a grimace crossed his face and he staggered.
Rayne wedged a shoulder under his arm. “Luca.” She caught him but his weight almost took them both down. The shoulder that had been hit by hail earlier lit up with pain.
Another spasm on his face. “Hurts.”
God, his skin was burning hot. She used one hand to push up his sodden shirt. The white fabric was now wet, and stained with soot and blood.
She bared a hard, six-pack stomach, and she saw where the tile shard had hit him. The wound had partly healed, but was an angry red and swollen. She hissed out a breath. It had to be agony.
“There must still be some tile in your wound.” And his body was healing over it.
He let out a groan and she saw his face was tight with pain.
“Come on.” She turned him, taking more of his weight. “We need to get somewhere safe so I can clean your injury.”
His arm tightened on her. He looked conflicted and she knew instantly that Luca Venti was a man who didn’t give his trust easily, or ask for help.
He nodded and they limped out of the piazza.
Luca clenched his teeth and breathed through the fiery agony in his gut. Rayne led them into the backstreets and each step was torture.
He stared down at her face. Her hair was damp and one cheek was streaked with soot. But there was no mistaking the determined gleam in her green eyes.
There was strength in Rayne Santini. A solid core of it.
Dio, the way she’d launched herself into the fight, the way she’d kissed him, saved him. Luca was used to being the shield, not being shielded.
“You should be afraid of me.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid of you, Warrior.”
Luca knew he should tell her to go. He should get far, far away from this tempting, fascinating woman. He needed to focus on hunting down his enemy. Revenge was a burning need inside him. Except when he looked into cool green eyes the color of freshly-cut grass, and he felt the hard throb of anger ease.
They moved through the backstreets of Venice, neither one of them talking. They passed a couple perched on a railing beside a canal, caught in a passionate embrace. Luca scowled. These two were lost to the real world and its hardships. For them, everything was perfect and shiny.
He felt a brief spurt of…something. He looked away and focused on Rayne’s slim neck and hair the color of his favorite Chianti. Life had never been shiny or perfect for him. He’d lost his mother when he was young, then his father had been killed by the Tempest Winds. And all his life, Luca had carried the weight of knowing he was the leader of the Warriors of the Wind. That he had a duty to protect.
He studied the strong profile of Rayne’s face. Something told him that life hadn’t given her an easy path either.
They crossed a small arched bridge. Rayne stopped in front of a terracotta-colored building wedged between similar ones, all painted in bright colors. Wrought iron railings, dark shutters, and blooming flower boxes gave the old building character. She leaned him against the wall, unlocked the door, and helped him inside.
The décor inside was…feminine. The curtains were floral, the colors light and airy, and the furniture delicate twists of wood. He felt like a bull in a china shop.
“This isn’t your house,” he said.
She flicked him a glance.
“It’s not your style,” he continued.
“It’s an Aurae safe house. We have a few all around the world.” She led him down the hall. “Let’s head to the library.”
The pain in Luca’s gut was a roaring, insistent burn. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other. When they entered the large room at the back of the house, his gaze went straight to the tall windows overlooking a lovely little canal. In here, there were no frills. This room was all warm woods and comfy suede couches, complemented by cushions in rich jewel tones.
She helped him into an armchair, the movement jostling his wound. Air hissed through his teeth.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“This suits you.” He eyed the hundreds of books lined up on the shelves.
“It’s my favorite room.” She walked to a small bar area with a marble countertop and sink. She pulled open a cupboard. “And yes, I decorated it.” She grabbed what looked like a first aid kit. “Take off your shirt.”
Luca unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off with a wince. “I thought you didn’t want me naked.”
She rolled her eyes and knelt by his chair. When she looked at his stomach, she let out a loud hiss. “Jesus, I can’t believe you’ve been walking around like this.”
He glanced down. Okay, the swollen, angry red wound wasn’t pretty.
Rayne pressed a finger gently to the gash. “You have a shard left in there.” Her gaze flicked up. “I need to cut it open and pull it out.”
Luca nodded. “Do it.”
She rose to her feet in a lithe move and strode to another cupboard. This time, she came back with a bottle of whiskey. She handed it to him.
Luca took a large swig, enjoying the burn in his throat. He heard her moving things in the first aid kit.
Then silence.
“Do it,” he bit out.
A sharp blade touched his skin.
Chapter Four
“Cazzo.” Luca threw his head back and took another sip of whiskey. The sharp pain made him grit his teeth.
“Incision is done.” Rayne’s tone was emotionless. Her hands hovered over his skin.
He looked at her. Sweat sheened her forehead. “You can do this, Rayne.”
She pulled in a deep breath and lifted a set of large tweezers. “I hate hurting you.”
“It’ll hurt worse if you don’t.”
As she dug into the wound, Luca’s body locked.
He let out a string of curses, in a few different languages, and his head swam.
“Got it!” Rayne set the tweezers and chip of terracotta aside. Then her hands were touching his face. “You’re okay. If I had a lollipop, I’d give you one.”
Luca barked out a laugh. He blinked. When was the last time anyone had made him laugh?
All business-like, Rayne set to work cleaning his cut and bandaging it. It felt strange to have someone worry about his injuries. He’d lost his parents when he was young, and his uncle had raised them to be warriors. Warriors of the Wind couldn’t be coddled.
“It’s already healing,” she murmured.
He nodded. “By morning, it’ll be gone.” He watched the way her gaze drifted over his chest, down to his stomach. A burn ignited in him that had nothing to do with pain or anger.
He watched her face, and saw the faintest bloom of color in her cheeks. There was a glint of heat in her green eyes. This was the real Rayne. It was why the cool, efficient Rayne had bugged him so much. She’d been hiding the real woman.
She stroked a finger gently beside his wound and his gut contracted.
Luca wanted her. Adrenaline from the fight still charged through him, leaving him with an edginess that was riding him hard. But it was more than that. Rayne stood up to him like no one, except his brothers, ever had before. In the boardroom, in a fight, damn, even facing down a Tempest Wind, she didn’t back down. Even when Luca had been caught in his anger, she hadn’t been afraid.
He reached over and touched her hair.
She stilled. “What are you doing?”
“Looking.”
“Look but don’t touch.” She knocked his hand away. Then she pulled back and opened the top two buttons on her shirt.
Luca went still. His gaze was riveted to her smooth, pale skin. He wondered how it would feel under his hands.
She raised a brow. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Warrior.” She nudged the fabric aside and he saw a huge bruise mottling her shoulder.
Anger hit him. “What happened?”
“One of your hailstones hit me.”
Merda. Guilt hit him. He surged up and strode over to the small refrigerator he’d noticed. He pulled out some ice and wrapped it in a cloth.
“Here.” He pressed it against her shoulder and she sucked in a breath.
“Bastardo,” she muttered.
He shot her a small smile. “I’ve been called worse.”
She shifted her weight. “What’s next? How will we catch Caecius?”
“I need a plan. I’m not waiting for him to target more of my people.” Horrific images of the dancing flames and the screaming victims replayed in Luca’s mind and he felt his shoulders tense. “I need to lure him out where I want him.”
“How?”
“I’m not sure yet.” But he was working on it. Luca didn’t like to admit it, but he and Caecius weren’t so different. They were both driven by anger. Luca just needed to figure out what would lure the Tempest Wind out.
He looked down at Rayne. “Tell me more about the Aurae.”
“There aren’t many of us left. Few survived The Purge.”
Luca frowned. “The Purge?”
She tried to push the ice away but he held it in place. She scowled at him but subsided. “The last few times the Tempest Winds escaped, they didn’t just wreak havoc with their vices.”
Luca easily recalled every single time the Tempest Winds had escaped. He possessed the memories of all the Warriors who’d come before him.
Rayne stopped and looked at him, her face hard. “They targeted the Aurae.”
He blinked slowly. “I know they’re cunning, but I wouldn’t have thought them patient enough to carry out a plan like that.”
“They’ve had plenty of time to plan, trapped in the bodies of horses for centuries on Isola del Vento. They believed that the Aurae were the sole thing stopping the Warriors of the Wind from succumbing to their vices and joining forces with the Tempest Winds.”
Luca considered. He knew that in the past, many Warriors of the Wind had found their mates among the Aurae. His mother had been Aurae. His brothers, Dante and Antonio, had barely survived their vices…and only then with the help of two Aurae descendants. Lorenzo had only survived the Winds escape with the help of his woman, who they also suspected had Aurae blood.
“The Tempest Winds are wild and unpredictable,” Luca said, shifting the ice pack. “I can’t believe they’d plan an attack on the Aurae. Especially one that would take so long to come to fruition.”
She lifted a shoulder. “What’s a few centuries when you’re immortal? We’re not entirely sure how the Tempest Winds did it, but somehow they poisoned the seasonal breezes.”
Luca’s eyebrows drew together. The Warriors of the Wind controlled the cardinal winds, and the Aurae held the seasonal breezes.
“Aurae women fell ill and died painful deaths. It first started at the time of the Black Death, so initially it was blamed on the plague. But it didn’t stop there. Slowly, inexorably, Aurae all over the world sickened and died.”
Luca’s gut knotted and he dropped into a chair. “My mother…” She’d gotten sick and despite their father consulting doctor after doctor, she’d died.
Rayne nodded, her eyes drowning in horror. Luca realized that she too held her ancestors’ memories, and felt their pain and suffering. He wanted to pull her into his arms. He frowned at the strange need. Offering comfort and mopping up tears was not something he had any experience with.
“A few survived the Purge,” she said. “Weakened, frightened, they went into hiding. Many hid and denied their heritage. My mother’s family moved to London.” Green eyes lifted to stare into his. “Our leader vowed we’d never sacrifice ourselves for the Warriors of the Wind again. That we would not be their pawns.”
Luca slowly stood. “I don’t fight for myself. I fight to keep the world safe. That is my duty. Whatever role the Aurae play, it is not for the gratification of the Warriors. In the past, Aurae warriors stood beside us to face the Tempest Winds.”
“I know,” she whispered.
He gripped her chin. “Do you believe your leader’s words? Do you feel the same?”
She straightened. “It doesn’t matter what I think. The leader of the Aurae is my mother.”
Rayne pulled away from Luca’s touch and strode to the window, her insides churning. Talking about her mother always made her feel this way. Talking with her mother was even worse. Ariel Santini had always inspired both love and hate in Rayne.
Staring out the window, she didn’t see the peaceful canal cloaked in darkness, or the gondola passing by in a slow, graceful slide. She sensed Luca move up behind her and saw his reflection in the glass.
“Why did you decide to help me today?” he asked.
“My mother is the queen of doing nothing.” Rage choked Rayne. “She’s kept her head buried in the sand for too long, and urged other Aurae to do the same.”
And Ariel had done the same thing at home and her daughters had paid the price. Rayne’s sweet sister Skye had paid the highest price of all.
“Now the Tempest Winds are free and we don’t have the luxury of thinking only of ourselves.” Rayne spun, her chest brushing Luca’s. He was shirtless and that glorious male chest filled her vision. Dammit, she was tempted to touch him. “I won’t stand by and watch the world be destroyed just to keep myself safe.”
“Honorable and brave.” He raised a hand and brushed his knuckles down her cheek.
Why did those quiet words from him echo inside her? And why did such a simple touch have desire coiling low in her belly?
Dammit. Okay, she was female enough to admit Luca Venti was one hell of a specimen of hot Italian male. He might have a fierce temper, but he was built to appeal to every woman’s fantasies.
She cleared her throat. “I’ll have your tailor send some clothes over, and I’ll prepare a guest room for you. It has an adjoining bathroom.” One glance at his wound and she
saw that the redness around the bandage was already gone.
“A shower would be good,” he said.
The image of him naked with water sluicing over his powerful body sent a shot of heat through her. With a nod, she took the ice pack and carried it back to the tiny sink tucked away near the refrigerator. Again, she sensed him behind her even though she hadn’t heard him. The man moved silently.
This time he crowded in close, his body pressed against her back. He smelled like the cool North Sea.
“The more I learn about you Rayne, the more I like.”
She closed her eyes, his deep, sexy voice working deep into her system. Warm lips pressed against the back of her neck and she shivered. He ran a hand down her arm.
She summoned her voice. “I told you I won’t be a warm body to soothe your vice.”
His hand cupped her jaw and tilted her head back until those blue eyes met hers. “I don’t want to tug those slick pants off you and put my mouth between your legs because I want you to soothe my anger.” His thumb brushed her lips. “I just want you.”
She couldn’t breathe, and her panties turned damp. She wanted him, too. She’d spent every day with him for a week and couldn’t deny she liked a lot about him. Even his temper. He was somehow tough but elegant, handsome but hard. He had a razor-sharp mind, and carried an air of power and dominance that lured a woman.
But then her gaze fell on his hands. She saw the scars on his fingers and dried blood.
She was dancing with danger being near him. She knew he was fighting the anger, and she’d seen what a man could do to a woman when he let anger loose.
“We need to focus on Caecius.” She stepped to the side and slipped out from under his arm.
Luca was quiet, but she felt the intensity of his gaze. When she glanced up, those blue eyes made her feel naked.
She straightened her shoulders. “I have an idea for luring out the Tempest Wind.”