1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Twelve

by Alexandra Ivy

  Overcome with worry, she fumbled with her seatbelt, unfastening it and tearing it away from her body. She had to get out of the car and go back to beg Massioni’s forgiveness.

  If he was still alive.

  Dear God, don’t let him be dead.

  Don’t let her family be killed because of her failure to protect them.

  A sob raked her throat. “Goddammit, I said stop this fucking car!”

  He slowed the growling sports car and eased off the empty highway to the shoulder. As soon as the vehicle stopped, she leaped out. She paused only long enough to toss her high heels into the grass, then started running the opposite way on the rough gravel that edged the pavement.

  Ettore’s curse exploded behind her. “What the hell are you doing?”

  He caught up to her instantly, gifted with Breed genetics that made him faster than any other creature on the planet. He blocked her path, his big male body filling her vision and all of her senses. When she tried to dodge him, his hands came down firmly on her shoulders, holding her still.

  “Talk to me, Arabella. Tell me what this is about.”

  “My family.” She couldn’t contain the shiver that rocked her when she thought about what they might be enduring because of her, possibly at this very moment. “Massioni promised me that if anything ever happened to him, he’d have them killed.”

  Ettore’s scowl deepened. “Your father might have something to say about that. Your brother, Consalvo, too.”

  She gazed up at him, shaking her head in misery. “My father’s dead. So is Sal. I guess you didn’t know. How would you, right? You left and never looked back.”

  He flinched as if her words stung as much as a slap. Yet when he spoke, there was only quiet, patient concern in his deep voice. “What happened?”

  “It was Sal,” she said, still wounded by her brother’s fall from grace—and the betrayal that followed. “Three years ago, my father made the mistake of turning over the vineyard to Sal. Things didn’t go very well. He was careless with the books. Worse than careless. None of us realized how deeply in debt the business was—or why—until Sal’s mate, Chiara, confided in me about his gambling. She was worried for him, and for the future of their infant son. But it was already too late. Sal got mixed up with bad people, the worst of them being Vito Massioni.”

  Ettore blew out a sharp curse. “The idiot. Sallie owed him money?”

  “A lot of money. More than any of us could pay. By the time we learned what he’d done, Massioni was out of patience. He tortured Sal, nearly killed him.” Bella took a fortifying breath. “My brother was scared and desperate, in fear for his life. He couldn’t have been thinking clearly… At least, that’s what I’ve had to tell myself in order to forgive him for what he did to me.”

  She watched Ettore’s eyes darken with grave understanding. “Your brother is the reason you’re with Massioni?”

  She nodded. “Vito showed up at our Darkhaven one night, along with a dozen armed men. He wasn’t there to negotiate. The men shot my father in front of all of us. Sal was going to be next. He made all kinds of promises, offered to give Massioni the house, the vineyard—everything he could think of. None of it appealed to Vito, of course. He had plenty of property, plenty of money. Then Sal looked at me.”

  “No.” Ettore’s voice dropped to a low growl. “Jesus, he didn’t.”

  Bella swallowed. “Sal told him about my gift for scrying. He told Massioni to imagine how much richer he could be if he had the ability to see the future. Sal promised that I was worth ten times as much as the debt he owed. In the end, I’m sure he was right. Massioni took me away that night, after giving his men the order to kill Sal.”

  Ettore’s eyes were no longer dark, but crackling with shards of amber that ignited with his rage. As he spoke, the tips of his fangs glinted bright white behind his lips. “That cowardly son of a bitch. If your brother were alive right now, I’d fucking kill him myself.” He reached up to touch her face and she could feel the power of his fury beneath the tenderness of his fingers.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. I did what I had to in order to survive. Chiara and my little nephew are what matter most to me. They’re the reason I stayed with Massioni. He held their lives ransom to make sure I never crossed him or tried to get away.”

  “Well, he can’t hurt anyone now,” Ettore said. “As of tonight, Vito Massioni’s either dead or damned close to it.”

  “No. You don’t understand.” She stepped back, shaking her head. She wished she could stand there all night under the warmth of his caress, but her dread was only intensifying by the moment. “You don’t realize what you’ve done, Ettore. He gave instructions to his entire criminal network to hunt down Chiara and Pietro if anything ever happened to him. If he’s dead, so are they. Or they will be soon.”

  Ettore studied her for a moment before hissing a tight curse. “Your brother’s widow and her boy—are they still at the vineyard?”

  She nodded.

  “Fuck. That’s three hours in the other direction.” He stared at her, grim but resolute. “If we push it, the Pagani should get us there in under two.”

  “Does that mean you’ll help me?”

  “To my last breath, Arabella.” He cupped her face in his strong palm, his eyes blazing with determination and something deeper. Something that lit a dormant hope in her chest and made her veins tingle with heat.

  She knew he felt the same kindling of emotion too. It was there in his glittering eyes, and in the lengthening points of his fangs.

  He may have abandoned her without explanation a decade ago, but all of the attraction and need that had existed between them was still there. Still burning inside both of them.

  “Come on,” he said after a long moment, his voice rough. “We’d better go.”

  Chapter 5

  They made it to Potenza in just under two hours, thanks to clear late-night roadways and the seven hundred horses at work inside the Pagani’s massive engine.

  Savage turned onto a narrow two-lane and headed for the Genova family vineyard even before Bella pointed to give him directions. He had been born in the same southern province of Italy, and, like her, he had spent the better part of his youth traipsing around the volcanic soil foothills of the region’s imposing Mount Vulture.

  Unlike Bella, however, he had no family of his own. Whoever his parents were, they’d been gone from his life soon after he was born. Abandoned when he was just a baby, he’d been raised in one Darkhaven orphanage after another until he was old enough to take care of himself.

  He thought he’d found something close to family when he met Bella’s brother, Consalvo, at university and the two became fast friends. He had regarded Sal like a brother, helped work the vineyard with the family as if it was his own.

  For a long time, he had actually believed he’d found someplace to belong.

  He had belonged…until his desire for Arabella had been found out and he’d been informed by her father that he was no longer welcome there.

  Not good enough for his daughter.

  Bella deserved something better.

  Hell, Savage wouldn’t argue that, even now.

  But as he glanced over at her and watched her lovely face turn ashen with dread on their approach to the long gravel drive that led to the homestead at the base of the mountain, he felt a wave of possessiveness—and protectiveness—he could not deny.

  And he felt guilt too.

  For leaving her the way he had, for letting her think he didn’t care.

  For not being present to ensure that she never knew a moment of pain or heartache or fear.

  All the things he could see playing across her features now.

  Because of him.

  She sucked in a sharp breath when she spotted the ominous-looking, empty black sedan parked halfway up the drive to the rambling villa. “Oh, no. Ettore, we’re too late.”

  He clamped his molars tight, holding back the curse that leaped to his tongue. She was rig
ht. It didn’t look good.

  A plan formed in his head—a risky one, but the best option he had.

  He didn’t dare ditch the car with Bella inside it, and damned if he was going to let her out of his sight for as much as a second.

  “Slide down as far as you can,” he told her. “Don’t move, Bella. Not unless I tell you to.”

  She shot him an anxious glance but did as he instructed.

  He swept off his black knit skullcap and tossed it aside. Instead of keeping his cautious pace up the meandering drive, Savage gunned the engine, letting the tires chew up the dirt and dust as he roared all the way to the homestead.

  Up ahead in the dark, a pair of Breed thugs in black suits were prowling the perimeter of the house and surrounding grounds. Shit. They were both carrying semiautomatic pistols and looking short on patience. Maybe that was a good thing where Bella’s family members were concerned.

  Savage threw the Pagani into park but left the engine running. Since his attire could raise questions he didn’t want to answer, he would have to employ his unique brand of obfuscation in order to get him past the other males’ suspicion.

  Using the Breed ability that served him well in his stealth line of work, he conjured an illusion that turned his tactical gear into a black suit and altered his face and hair color. Then he pulled his own semiauto 9mm and climbed out of the car as if he had every right to be there.

  “Jesus Christ,” he muttered loudly as he stalked toward the goateed man out front. “Where the fuck are the other guys?”

  The henchman scowled. “What other guys? Far as I know, me and Luigi were the only ones called out for this job. Who the hell are you?”

  “Backup,” Savage said, giving the man a look of disdain. He called out to the second man, a thick-necked mountain of a male who was just coming around from the rear of the farmhouse. “What the fuck’s taking you so long, Luigi? You find that bitch and her brat back there?”

  Luigi shook his head as he started jogging over to meet them. “Not yet. They must’ve cleared out before we got here.”

  Savage grunted. “Good.”

  He popped a round into each man’s skull before either of them could react. The two would-be killers dead on the ground, he jogged back to the Pagani. Arabella was still hunkered down on the floor in front of the passenger seat like he’d instructed her. Good girl.

  He opened the door. “It’s okay. Chiara and your nephew aren’t here and the two men sent to find them won’t be looking for them anymore.”

  “Thank God.” She lifted her head, pushing herself up to peer into the darkness where Massioni’s men lay unmoving in the grass near the house. “But Chiara wouldn’t have known to run away. There wouldn’t have been time to get very far, especially with a three-year-old in tow.” She glanced up at him, worry—and a small glimmer of hope—in her soft brown eyes. “But I think I might know where they are.”

  Savage held out his hand to assist her from the car. Gathering up the long skirt of her dress, she ran past the dead Breed males with Savage at her side. They entered the sacked villa and she headed immediately for the sampling room at the back of the expansive house. An immense wine cellar was attached to the room, its floor-to-ceiling wine racks filled with bottles of nearly every vintage the vineyard had ever produced.

  “Over here,” Bella said, walking to the far wall.

  The bottles housed in those racks looked to be the oldest in the collection. Most of them were covered in a fine layer of dust. Pulling a sliding wooden ladder toward her, she climbed up and reached for one of the highest bottles in the old rack. Instead of pulling the aged bottle of Aglianico out, she twisted it clockwise.

  It wasn’t a bottle. It was a lever to a secret chamber.

  One narrow section of racked wine popped open soundlessly.

  Bella swung a glance over her shoulder at him. “My father had this panic room installed during the wars after First Dawn twenty years ago.”

  She started to duck inside. Savage caught her by the arm. “Stay close to me, Bella. If anything happens to you, I couldn’t…”

  He let the thought trail, but his touch lingered longer than necessary. She gave him a curious look, then nodded.

  They stepped inside the unlit, cavernous room. Large oak barrels, shelves of paper supplies, and chunky, hand-hewn wooden tables made the secret chamber appear to be nothing more remarkable than a workroom for the vineyard.

  Bella reached to turn on a light switch just inside. “Chiara?” she called softly. “Are you in here? It’s me, Arabella.”

  A small whimper sounded from somewhere behind the barrels. Then a petite, pretty brunette emerged from the shadows, her dark-haired toddler son held protectively in her arms. “Bella!”

  The two women raced to each other, embracing amid Chiara’s tears and Bella’s quiet assurances that she and Pietro were okay now. That they were safe.

  Savage stood back from the emotional reunion, all too conscious of the fact that every minute they delayed here was one more minute they risked being discovered. They were fortunate that only two of Massioni’s henchmen had been dispatched to the vineyard. That didn’t mean there wouldn’t be more sent to sniff around and make sure the job was finished.

  The dead Breed males in the yard would be ashed by the morning sun, but whoever sent them would be waiting for them to return or report in.

  And now that he was thinking about daylight…

  It was late, and all too soon it would be dawn. They were too far afield to make the drive back to the command center before the sun rose and ashed him, too, which meant he needed to find them somewhere secure to settle in for the night.

  Grabbing his phone, Savage called the scrambled line at the Order in Rome to apprise them of the situation. He’d already ignored more than one call from base demanding the status of the mission. He’d have hell to pay when he got back, no doubt. Probably right now too.

  Trygg’s dark growl greeted him on the other end. “Having a good time out there?”

  Savage grunted. “There’s been a slight change of plans.”

  “No shit? Was that before or after you jeopardized the entire mission in order to chase after some former tail?”

  Okay, so maybe he deserved that. He definitely deserved it. But Trygg didn’t understand, and Savage didn’t have time to explain it right now. “Her name’s Arabella Genova. I had to go back in for her and get her out of there. You’re going to have to trust me on that.”

  “Not my trust you need to worry about,” Trygg said. “Commander Archer’s on a call with Lucan Thorne in D.C. as we speak. They weren’t happy to hear you went AWOL in the middle of an op.”

  “Yeah, well, I got the job done.”

  “You sure about that? You verified Massioni blew up with his villa, right?” When Savage let the question hang a second too long, Trygg hissed a low curse. “You didn’t verify. Jesus, Savage. I hope to fuck she’s worth it, man.”

  He glanced over at Bella. Yeah, she was worth it. Her life—the relief and happiness he saw in her face right now—was worth everything.

  “If I fucked up with Massioni, I’ll handle it. Right now, I need to find a safe house for the day. I’ve got two Breedmates and a three-year-old Breed male with me here in Potenza right now. I need to make sure they’re somewhere secure.”

  “Two females and a kid? I’m not gonna ask,” Trygg muttered. He went silent for a moment, then heaved a surly sigh. “How far are you from Matera?”

  Savage knew the town, had prowled the ancient streets and subterranean caverns of the old settlement more than a few times in his youth. “It’s not far. An hour, give or take.”

  “Get there. I know somewhere you can go.” Trygg gave him quick instructions, landmarks to guide him to where he needed to go once he arrived. From the sound of it, his comrade wasn’t sending him into the touristy heart of the historic town, but down into the Paleolithic sassi—the neighborhood of ancient limestone caves that clung to the steep walls of M
atera’s central ravine. “Take the old stone steps behind the church. Follow the path on the left. Someone will be waiting to meet you and take you to a safe shelter.”

  “Who am I looking for?”

  “A Breed male with long black hair and obsidian eyes. His name is Scythe.”

  “Scythe? Sounds like a real hospitable guy.”

  “You didn’t ask for hospitable. You asked for someplace secure, and that’s where I’m sending you.”

  “Point taken,” Savage drawled, reminded that Trygg was nothing if not literal. The deadly, unsociable male dealt in absolutes, whether it came to combat or conversation. “What I’m saying is, you’re sure about this male, this Scythe?”

  “Completely.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  There was a long silence, then Trygg finally said, “He’s my brother.”

  Chapter 6

  Bella hated to let go of Chiara and Pietro, but Ettore’s grave look as he ended his call to the Order left no question that they weren’t totally out of danger yet.

  “Come on,” he said, walking over to collect them. “We can’t delay here much longer. It’s best if we get moving.”

  “Back to Rome?”

  “There isn’t time for that now. It’ll be daylight in a few hours. My driving skills tend to suffer when I’m crispy.”

  She smiled wanly, but it was hard to find any humor in the risks he was taking for her tonight. For all of them now. And she could tell from the tone of his voice that the urgency to move on wasn’t motivated only by his Breed aversion to ultraviolet rays. His concern went deeper than that.

  “You think he’s still alive, don’t you?”

  A tendon pulsed in Ettore’s square jaw. “If he’s not dead, I promise you I won’t rest until he is. But first I need to make sure you and your family are somewhere secure. My comrade in Rome is arranging for someone to meet us in Matera. We’ll have shelter there for as long as we need it.”

  As Bella and Ettore spoke, Chiara stepped forward with her young son clutching her hand.