1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Twelve

by Alexandra Ivy

  He’d made certain of that.

  Arabella knew better than to keep Massioni waiting. He’d sent her away to fetch her scrying bowl while he entertained his boot-licking cronies in the grand salon. They were gloating over a large payout from a shipment of Red Dragon to the States and the United Kingdom—a narcotic that destroyed the minds of their own kind, the Breed, creating blood-addicted monsters from just the smallest dose. They didn’t care that their sudden windfall came at the expense of both Breed and human lives. She had learned a long time ago that Vito Massioni’s greed knew no bounds.

  Nor did his violence.

  That her gift had helped him amass his growing fortune, and the power that came with it, made Arabella want to retch.

  How often had she thought about giving him a false reading from her scrying bowl?

  How many times had she dreaded that her visions would one day prove incorrect?

  But she hadn’t deceived him, not once.

  And, thankfully, her visions had never been wrong.

  Either of those failings would come at the cost of innocent lives. Not her own, but the people she cared about most in the world. The only family she had left now.

  It was those precious lives she held close in her heart as she walked over to the cabinet across the room and retrieved the hammered gold bowl she would need for her reading downstairs. In reality, her gift would awaken when she peered into any standing pool of liquid, but Massioni insisted she use the ridiculous carnival fortune-teller’s style bowl for dramatic effect whenever she performed a public reading.

  Cradling the shallow bowl in her palms, she drew the empty vessel out of the cabinet. Her own face stared back at her in the reflection on the polished gold basin—but that wasn’t all.

  Behind her stood the ominous shape of someone else.

  A man.

  Tall, immense.

  An intruder dressed entirely in black tactical gear.

  Bella sucked in a startled breath.

  Fear streaked through her, but before her shriek could rip up the back of her throat, a broad palm came up to cover her mouth.

  Oh, God.

  The bowl slipped out of her grasp, thudding onto the thick rug. Muscular arms caged her from behind, immobilizing her. She staggered on her high-heeled sandals, drawn helplessly against the unmistakable heat of a very strong, very male body.

  Not Massioni’s. This wasn’t any of the other men gathered in the salon with him either, although there was no question that the male trapping her in his unbreakable hold was Breed.

  “Don’t scream, Bella.”

  He spoke against her ear, his growled command voiced in a deep baritone that brushed over her jangled senses like a caress.

  He knew her name. How? Who the hell was he? Where had he come from?

  She struggled and fought to break free, but he didn’t let go. He was much too strong, and none of her squirming or resisting was getting her anywhere. All her grunts and cries for help were snuffed by the hand still sealed firmly across her lips.

  Trapped, she could only stand there, her breath rushing out of her nose in panicked gusts while terror wrapped around her heart like a vise.

  “Be calm. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Did he think she was a fool? She didn’t believe him for a second, not when she could feel the lethal power radiating off his big body. Whoever this man was, he was beyond dangerous, and she had no doubt that his only business in the villa was death.

  She groaned, trying futilely to pull away from him in another burst of desperation. Her heart was speeding, banging against her rib cage as if on the verge of exploding. Yet despite her alarm, her instincts had begun to prickle with some kind of distant recognition.

  She knew it was impossible, this strange feeling that this intruder was no stranger at all. Her blood was still racing and cold with terror, but beneath the fear was a growing sense of familiarity.

  A name skated across her memory, one she had tried for years to bar from her thoughts and her heart.

  No. It couldn’t be him.

  The beautiful, golden-haired Breed male she had known all those years ago had been a scholar, not a soldier. He would have no business in a place like this, among thugs like the ones gathered downstairs.

  Then again, there was a time when she’d have said the same thing about herself.

  “I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth now,” he murmured.

  As he spoke, his breath skimmed warmly against her cheek and along the side of her neck. She shivered from the sensation, astonished to realize how deeply he affected her, even after all this time.

  Because, yes, she did know that low, velvet voice.

  Just as she knew the scent that enveloped her as she stood immobilized in his arms. Heaven help her, but she had carried the scent of him, the sound of his voice, in a private corner of her heart since she was a teenage girl.

  “Don’t be afraid, Bella. I didn’t come here to harm you. Nod your head if you understand.”

  She nodded, and his grip on her relaxed. His palm fell away from her lips, leaving a coldness in its wake. Arabella slowly turned around in his slack hold.

  “Oh, my God.” The words leaked out of her on a disbelieving sigh. “Ettore.”

  Even though she thought she was prepared to see him again now, her first glimpse of Ettore Selvaggio standing mere inches away from her was a complete shock to her system.

  She brought her fingers to her lips, her fear replaced by an overwhelming feeling of incredulity…and confusion.

  Although she knew his voice and scent, she barely recognized the hard, disapproving face that stared back at her.

  A black knit skullcap covered the loose golden waves that would have framed his lean, angled cheeks and firm, square jaw. While she knew that when he smiled there were dimples on either side of his lush mouth, right now his sculpted lips were held in a grim, unforgiving line. His hazel eyes were intense, his brows lowering as he pinned her in a measuring stare that felt as dangerous and unyielding as his hold on her a moment ago.

  “Jesus Christ,” he whispered on a sharp exhalation. His expression hardened even more. “It really is you, Arabella. I had to be sure. I didn’t want to believe it.”

  She frowned. He sounded as surprised to see her as she was to be looking at him.

  It had been ten years since they last saw each other. Ten years since he crushed her heart and walked away, never to return. Now, here he stood, dressed like a nightmare in black combat gear and staring at her in accusation, as if she were the one to blame.

  His gaze seared her, making her feel cold and exposed in the curve-hugging red silk dress Massioni insisted she wear tonight. She knew what she must look like, what Ettore must think.

  As much as everything inside her urged her to explain, she had bigger things to worry about than his opinion of her now.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing? How did you get in here?” She couldn’t hide the shock in her voice, or her dread. If Massioni or any of his guards discovered Ettore inside the villa, they would kill him. And Bella didn’t doubt for a second that she would be made to suffer too. “Are you insane? Get out of here now, Ettore. You have no idea how dangerous it is for you to be here.”

  He gave her a smile that chilled. “I’m not the one in danger. Your lover and his cronies are. I’ve rigged this place to blow sky-high as soon as I hit the detonator in my pocket.”

  Oh, God. She swallowed, stricken to hear him admit what she’d already guessed. He was here to kill Vito Massioni.

  And she could not let that happen.

  Because if Massioni died, he had promised that she and her remaining family would die too.

  A muffled rumble of laughter carried from the salon downstairs. Massioni and his guests would be growing restless soon. She’d already been gone too long. She couldn’t risk anyone coming to look for her.

  No more than she could risk allowing Ettore the chance to carry out what he’d co
me here tonight to do.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, shaking her head as she took a step away from him. “I’m sorry… Ettore, I have no choice.”

  Before he could stop her—before he probably even guessed what she was about to do—Bella screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Chapter 3

  There was barely a second of silence between the sound of Bella’s scream and the pandemonium that followed.

  Male voices shouted from the salon below. Heavy boot falls began to thunder from all directions, while outside, perimeter floodlights blinked on, illuminating the villa and its surrounding grounds in a blinding daylight glow.

  Holy shit.

  He couldn’t believe she’d done it—betrayed his presence to the entire mansion.

  Then again, it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. He had certainly earned her scorn. Arabella Genova owed him nothing anymore, not even an explanation for how she’d ended up on the arm—and possibly in the bed—of a criminal scum like Massioni.

  No choice, she’d said.

  What the hell did she mean by that?

  “Bella—” He reached for her, but she jerked out of his grasp, putting several paces between them.

  “Get out, Ettore.” Her soft brown eyes were desperate beneath her furrowed brows. And outside the closed door of her quarters, it sounded as though several of Massioni’s men were already rushing up the stairs to the second floor. She threw an anxious glance over her shoulder at the pounding of approaching feet in the hallway. Her voice was a tight, fearful whisper. “Please, go. Get out of here while you still have a chance!”

  Jesus, she was terrified.

  And it wasn’t directed at him.

  What the hell had that bastard done to her?

  Savage ground out a curse, feeling precious seconds tick by. He had a mission to carry out tonight—and he would—but not until Bella was safe and secured. Whether or not she intended to cooperate with that plan.

  “Come with me.” He grabbed for her again, this time snagging her wrist.

  “No. Let go of me!” she cried, projecting her voice louder than necessary. For who? Massioni and his goons? “I said stay away from me!”

  “Listen to me, damn it.” Savage took hold of her shoulders and forced her to meet his gaze. “I’m trying to save you, Bella.”

  She scoffed brittly. “You can’t save me. No one can.”

  Christ, she really believed that. He knew her too well to think otherwise. He’d always been able to read her emotions in her eyes, in that lovely face that had haunted his dreams for longer than he cared to admit.

  When she tried to break loose from his hold, he realized there was only one way he would be able to get her out of the villa without fighting her every step of the way.

  She might hate him even more for this, but he had no choice either. He wasn’t about to leave her behind.

  Laying his palm against her forehead, he tranced her into an immediate and deep sleep.

  She no sooner sagged into his arms than the door to her quarters burst open and two armed guards filled the space.

  Savage was crouched low, having just guided Bella’s limp body to rest on the rug. His weapon was already drawn and ready as the pair of Breed males crashed into the room. He dropped them both with sniper precision, squeezing off two headshots that nailed each guard between the eyes.

  There would be more behind them. By the sound of the chaos unraveling all around the villa now, Savage expected he’d have to take on Massioni’s entire army of thugs as soon as he stepped out of the room.

  Fortunately, he had another plan.

  Lifting Bella over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, he dashed to the other side of her suite where a large window overlooked the circular driveway below. A handful of armed guards scurried across the cobbled bricks, some heading into the mansion as backup while others fanned out to patrol the surrounding grounds.

  The odds of getting past the security detail down there weren’t great, but they were a hell of a lot better than charging into the fray inside the villa.

  Lifting the glass with a mental command, he swung his legs over the sill, then dropped to the ground with Bella held securely in his arms.

  He threw another psychic order at the nearest vehicle, smiling to himself when the V12 engine of the blue Pagani rumbled to life. The gullwing doors lifted and Savage hurried over to slip Bella into the passenger seat and fasten her in.

  One of the perimeter patrol guards spotted him and shouted the alarm to the others. Bullets rang out from all directions. Savage dodged the incoming fire, diving into the driver’s seat of the sleek sports car and dropping the doors. Throwing the vehicle into gear, he sped away from the villa just as Massioni and several of his lieutenants came pouring out behind him.

  Savage already had the detonator in hand, the safety switched off.

  He pushed the trigger on it, watching in the rearview mirror as a sudden fireball ignited and the whole place exploded against the night sky. The percussion made the Pagani jump on the pavement, but he held the wheel and pushed the pedal to the floor.

  He couldn’t deny his satisfaction at seeing the fiery plume and cloud of black, roiling smoke behind him. He only hoped the explosives did the job as intended. Ordinarily, he’d stick around to make sure his target was neutralized, but not tonight.

  Not with precious cargo in tow.

  His gaze strayed to Bella. Slumped in her red silk gown on the seat beside him, she slept as peacefully as a kitten, her mind still caught in the web of the trance he’d placed on her. The urge to touch her was too much to resist. Reaching over, he smoothed an errant blonde tendril from her cheek.

  Damn, she was even lovelier than he recalled. No longer the coltish Breedmate girl who’d been his best friend’s sister. No longer the tomboy teenager who used to delight in racing through the cultivated fields of her family’s vineyard, but a twenty-eight-year-old woman with a refined beauty that stirred everything male in him.

  Not to mention his blood.

  Memories of a night ten years ago came to life in his mind in vivid, erotic detail. Her warm, naked skin against his. Her sweet, breathless cries as he tasted every virgin inch of her beautiful body.

  Her trusting, open-hearted gaze as he made love to her for the first—and only—time.

  How she must have hated him…after.

  He’d despised himself enough for both of them. If he’d been in the least to blame for pushing Bella toward another man—especially one like Vito Massioni—he would never forgive himself.

  And if he wanted to pretend he had forgotten her even for a moment during the past decade, seeing her beside him now was as if all that time had simply evaporated.

  He didn’t know what he was going to do with her now. She sure as fuck hadn’t been part of the equation when he’d set out on tonight’s mission, but seeing her again had changed everything. Once he had spotted her inside the villa, nothing would have kept him from making sure she was safe.

  Not even Bella herself could have stopped him.

  So much for a simple operation going according to plan.

  Savage forced his gaze away from her and put both hands back on the wheel. His eyes trained on the road, he buried the Pagani’s accelerator and headed for the highway that would take them back to Rome.

  Chapter 4

  Bella couldn’t wake from the sleep that cocooned her.

  Nor did she want to.

  Warm fingers stroked the side of her face as she slept, soothing her with a touch that was both sheltering and enticing. So strong. So infinitely gentle.

  Ettore’s touch.

  Her senses knew it, even if her mind struggled to comprehend. His caress felt like a dream, but it was real. As real as he was, seated close enough to her that his scent filled her lungs with each waking breath she drew.

  No, this was no dream.

  This was something deeper than sleep.

  Her head felt thick, as if her mind were cushione
d in cotton.

  Then she remembered. The shock of seeing Ettore inside Massioni’s villa. Her dread at learning what he had come there to do.

  She remembered him insisting that she leave with him, go somewhere safe. When she refused, he had reached up to touch her brow…

  He’d tranced her!

  Outrage speared through her. The sudden jolt of adrenaline and fury helped shake off the loose threads of the fading trance. She opened her eyes and found Ettore glancing at her. His handsome face and solemn hazel eyes held her gaze in the dim light of the vehicle’s dashboard.

  Beneath her, the low purr of an engine vibrated.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, drawing his hand away from her face now.

  She instantly missed the warmth, despite the alarm that was flooding her veins.

  “What are you doing?” She dragged herself out of her slump in the soft leather seat. On the other side of the passenger window, the nighttime landscape was a blur. Jesus, Ettore was driving like a bat out of hell. She swung an anxious look behind them. “Where’s Massioni?”

  “Don’t worry about him. He was mine to deal with. And I did.”

  Fresh horror swamped her. “You killed him?”

  Ettore looked at her, his expression grim. “I hope so, but there wasn’t time to verify that.”

  Oh, God. No. “Where are we going?”

  A frown creased his brow. “I’m taking you to Rome, Bella. You’ll be safest at the Order’s command center there. My comrades and I will make sure of that.”

  The Order. As shocked as she was to realize the golden, charming young man she had known all those years ago now made his living dealing in violence and death as a member of that lethal organization, she also knew that no one—not even the Order—could protect her from the worst of Vito Massioni’s threats.

  For all she knew, it was already too late.

  “Let me out of here, Ettore. Let me out right now.”

  “What do you mean, let you out?” He gaped at her as if she had lost her mind. “Sweetheart, we’re going a hundred and twenty miles an hour.”

  “I have to go back. Please, Ettore!”