“Somewhere with a beach,” Leo added, his little-boy enthusiasm digging the knife just a little deeper in Gabriel’s gut.
“Sure, bud,” Shea answered. “Somewhere with a beach.”
The sorrow in Shea’s voice sent that knife straight up into his heart. He knew she thought that trip would never happen.
And Gabriel’s hatred for Dario burned through his blood like acid.
Carefully, he put down his utensils before he bent them like matchsticks.
Luckily, the kid’s mouth cracked open with a huge yawn and Shea smiled.
And the dagger in his heart became an ache in his groin. Damn, he did not want to be sporting an erection right now.
“Time for bed, isn’t it?” Shea said.
Serena frowned, flashing a look at Gabriel.
“Shea worked nights, so she and Leo slept during the day,” Gabriel answered Serena’s unspoken question.
“Oh, really,” Serena said. “What did you do, Shea?”
“I was a dancer.”
“Really? I love the ballet—”
“I worked for Harry.” She never lowered her gaze, but Gabriel knew she was waiting for Serena’s condescension. “It paid the bills. I had aspirations of being a ballerina, but they never panned out.”
“Sissy’s a great dancer,” Leo piped in.
“I’m sure she is.” Serena smiled at the boy, meeting his eyes for only a brief second before looking back at Shea. “There’s a studio in the house. My daughter Madrona had it built years ago so she could practice her yoga. It doesn’t get much use now, but the floor’s wooden and there are mirrors. You could practice if you like.”
Shea’s expression eased a little. “Thanks, I might take you up on it. It’s been a few days since I stretched and my muscles are starting to tighten.”
“What about you, Leo?” Serena’s eyes skimmed the boy before going back to the dishes she was washing in the sink. “What do you like to do?”
Quinn’s sharply indrawn breath drew Gabriel’s attention. His golden skin went pale beneath his tan and his fingers tightened around the fork in his hand.
Quinn looked like he’d taken a blow to the head. Seemed he’d finally realized why Serena was so upset. Christ, he could practically see Quinn berating himself for his insensitivity earlier, watched his gaze shift back to Serena. Quinn’s desire to take Serena in his arms was written all over his face.
Did he look at Shea like that?
Vaffanculo. He hoped he wasn’t that transparent.
Leo’s second yawn cut through the tension as Shea gave a shaky laugh.
“Come on, bud.” She held out her hand to the boy. “Let’s get some sleep.”
Leo hopped off his chair but stopped at Gabriel’s side, wide eyes looking straight into his. “Will you come, too?”
He didn’t even have to think about his answer. “Sure, kid.”
But he paused before he got up as his gaze caught Shea’s. He saw warmth there and something he couldn’t interpret. Didn’t she want him to come? Hell, she’d just have to get used to him being around because…Oh, hell, he couldn’t even finish the thought.
Idiot. You’re such an idiot.
He stood, watching Shea’s expression. When she smiled, the knot in his stomach loosened.
After a quick glance at Quinn, staring at the table, and his mom, staring into the sink, he took Leo’s hand and walked him and Shea back to their room.
The kid was fading fast, and Shea looked like she needed a break. Hell, they all needed a break. He knew he needed to get back to the kitchen before Serena and Quinn started in on each other and said things they couldn’t take back.
Leo went straight to the bed, kicking off his shoes and jeans before pulling down the covers and crawling beneath. Shea toed off her shoes, leaving her clothes in place, then lay on top on the comforter, drawing the kid into the curve of her body.
Gabriel wanted to lie behind her, wrap his arms around both of them and ignore the rest of the world for a while.
Since the deaths of his dad and brother, his need to shed Dario’s blood had buried any tender feelings he might have had for anyone. He’d let anger and despair dictate his life. Shea and Leo made him realize what he’d been missing.
His feet moved, taking him closer to the bed. His knees bent and he sat on the edge.
Shea’s hair lay like dark silk on the pale blue comforter and he sank one hand into its softness, weaving his fingers through the strands.
Those shattered-glass eyes caught and held his. Heat pooled in his groin, making his cock thicken in anticipation.
Did Shea want him just as much?
He refused to examine her aura, afraid he wouldn’t see her answering desire for him.
Instead, he forced himself to look at the kid, staring up at him, as well.
“You okay, Leo?”
The kid nodded, his eyes already half closed. “Don’t leave, ’kay?”
Gabriel’s heart contracted. “I’ll be in the house the whole time, Leo. I’m not going anywhere.” Not yet, anyway.
“’kay.”
Leo’s eyes closed, and Gabriel swore the kid was asleep already.
His gaze returned to Shea’s, watching him closely. “You up for talking to Serena or you want some time?”
She didn’t answer him right away, her hand rubbing Leo’s back in small circles. “I think your mom’s probably anxious to talk, don’t you?”
“She’s waited five-hundred years, Shea. Another few hours aren’t gonna matter.”
Nodding, Shea’s lips lifted in a slight smile. That smile lit his libido like a match to a firecracker. Time to get out of here. Still…
He leaned over and laid his lips on his hers. He didn’t linger and it wasn’t sweet. There was no tongue and he didn’t touch her anywhere else. But he needed that connection, no matter how brief.
Their eyes met and held for a brief second before hers closed, and he felt her lips soften, conform. Yield.
Lust roared up but he shut it down in heartbeat. This wasn’t the time.
But later…
When he straightened, she looked a little less pale.
“Come out when you’re ready,” he said. “Take all the time you need.”
Then he headed back to the kitchen to put out the fire there.
* * *
As soon as Gabriel left the room with Shea and Leo, Quinn started to apologize.
“Jesus, Serena, I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry for acting like an ass.”
He’d been so caught up in his own drama that he’d failed to realize the memories Leo would trigger in Serena. Christ, the kid looked so much Nino with his dark hair and eyes.
Serena stood at the sink, her back to him. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” She turned on the water and started washing dishes. “Are you finished?”
He stood and walked to her side, dishes in hand. He wanted her to turn to him for comfort, wanted to wrap his arms around her and ease the loss he saw in her eyes. “Yeah, I’m finished. You never talk about him. Maybe you should.”
Serena shook her head but wouldn’t look up. “There’s nothing to talk about. I have to live with his death. Not you.”
His arms ached to hold her but knew she wouldn’t allow it. And he didn’t think he could stand to be refused again. “I’m still sorry.” As he put his dishes in the sink, he heard Gabriel leave Leo’s room and head toward them. “I’ll leave you and Gabriel alone to talk strategy.”
“Quinn.” Serena finally looked at him. “Please.”
His heart dropped into his stomach then flew back up to his throat. He didn’t know what she was trying to say, didn’t know how to read her expression.
This whole situation was completely screwed up.
“Quinn, I…”
Gabriel walked into the room.
“Hey. Everything okay?”
Quinn could have cheerfully strangled him. But Shea and Leo needed him too much.
Serena rel
eased his gaze to turn to her son. “We’re fine. Have you heard from Matt?”
Gabe put his arm around his mother’s shoulders and drew her close. Serena slid her arms around his waist and held on for a few moments before stepping away. It made him feel like an ass for being jealous of his best friend, but Quinn wanted to be the one Serena needed.
“No, not yet. But he’ll call. And when he gets here, Shea and I’ll leave for New Orleans. Right now, I want to make sure we weren’t followed.” Gabe’s gaze locked onto Quinn. “I need you to give me a hand.”
Quinn shook his head, needing to be gone. He’d done enough damage already. “You don’t need me. Let Shea—”
Gabe cut him off. “No. It’ll go faster if we do this together.”
And it would keep him here longer.
“Gabe—”
“Quinn.” Gabe’s voice lowered but took on intensity. “I need you.”
Quinn didn’t say anything. Gabriel was his brother in all ways but blood and the one person Quinn knew he could count on unconditionally.
He took a deep breath and let it out with a muttered, “Fuck.” Then he shook his head and set his jaw. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
Chapter Fifteen
Shea sat on the bed next to Leo, rubbing his back, even though she knew he was asleep.
Poor guy was completely worn out from stress, excitement and fear.
Not a good combination for anyone, much less a six-year-old boy whose parents had been murdered and who could make grown men scream just by touching them.
Staring down at him, she saw her parents in his every feature. The ever-present guilt settled on her chest.
If she hadn’t left, would her parents still be alive? Had she made a mistake, left a trail back to them? Had she… What?
She had no answers to those questions. And she shouldn’t be thinking about that now. Right now, she had to figure out what to do. About Leo. About the curse.
About Gabriel.
Simple answer to that last one. Not a damn thing.
Because if what her grandfather had written in his journal was true, there was no point in starting anything with Gabriel. She wouldn’t be around to finish it. She was pretty damn sure that she wasn’t going to be breathing when the fat lady sang.
She swallowed back a sob, not wanting to wake Leo.
Not fair. So not fair.
Would Serena have any answers?
Please, Great Mother Goddess, let her have some answers.
She bent and pressed a kiss to Leo’s baby-soft hair then left the room after lighting the small lamp in the corner.
In the hall, she headed back the way they’d come. Paintings of landscapes covered the plastered walls, which had mellowed with age to a gorgeous sunset gold that most people paid big bucks to have faux-painted that way. According to Gabriel, his mother had lived here for two centuries.
She’d passed several rooms when she heard chanting—male voices, faint but clear—and followed the sound to a small altar room. She stopped well away from the door so she didn’t disturb Quinn and Gabriel, sitting on the floor in the middle of a ritual circle, heads bent over a moon bowl.
They didn’t notice her. They were too immersed in the spell they were weaving. A powerful spell. She felt it undulate out of the room, washing over her then moving on. They were searching, checking to see if anyone had followed them.
So much power. Most of it coming from one man.
Her gaze lit on Gabriel and stuck. The heat that snuck up on her every time she was with him began to pool low in her stomach. It made her wet, made her want to kiss him and have him put his hands on her.
But it was the ache in her chest that was the real problem.
She’d fallen for the guy.
Which was such a dumb-ass move on her part. It ranked right up there with leaving home to become a ballerina. And thinking that a girl who’d been raised to become the priestess of an ancient goddess could ever have what the eteri considered a normal life.
A light tap on her shoulder made her turn with a start. Serena stood behind her, her smile gone now, her eyes deadly serious.
For some inane reason, the “Jeopardy” theme music started to run through her head. Funny, she’d never found it ominous before.
Serena led her through the maze of hallways to a sitting room on the other side of the house, far enough away that they couldn’t hear the men and, more importantly, Shea thought, the men couldn’t hear them.
“Is Leo asleep?” Serena asked as she sank into a deep, comfortable-looking leather chair, curling her legs under her and waving Shea into the matching one across from her.
“Yeah, he’s wiped out.”
“He looks very much like your father, but then you know that. And you look so much like your mother, it’s almost startling. But that’s not what you want to hear, is it?”
Shea took a deep breath. “I’m not really sure what I want to hear.”
Serena smiled. “What is it you don’t want to hear first?”
“How old are you?”
Serena lifted her delicately pointed chin. “I was born in 1457 in a small village in the hills of Toscana. I was thirty-three when Fabrizio Paganelli cursed my boschetta for failing to save his son. If we had known the bastard was Mal, we never would have agreed to help.
“Your mother argued against it from the beginning. She said later she knew there was something wrong with Paganelli but never realized just how evil he was. After the curse, after—” Serena shook her head, as if to get rid of a bad image. Then she glanced down at the leather thong visible around Shea’s neck and pointed to it. “Did your mother… Do you have the nail?”
Shea’s hand automatically lifted to touch the key. “Yes. She hid it with Leo.”
“And you know what it is?”
Shea nodded. “I was trained to take my place among the Priestesses of Menrva. I know the history and the rituals. I know we wait for Menrva to recall us to our duty, and when She does, I know that we will once again use the nails for their true purpose—to sever fate by hammering the nails into the wall of Menrva’s temple, letting our people begin a new year unencumbered by the problems of the past.”
Serena nodded as if she were a star pupil. “Your mother taught you well. But she never mentioned anything about the curse?”
Shea shook her head.
The other woman’s smile softened. “And you don’t understand why she never told you, do you?”
“Not a clue.”
“Did you know that in all the long years of her life, your mother never had another child? Not with her first mate, Antonio. Or with Franco, Antonio’s first reincarnation.”
Shock made her mouth open then close. Well, damn. She’d never even considered that there were other men before her father, much less other children. She barely forced herself to shake her head again. Much more of that and she was going to be dizzy. Screw that, she already was.
“For so many years, your mom prayed for a child. And I know she cherished you with all her heart.”
Shea’s heart pounded with the force of how much she wanted to believe Serena. Pitiful, really, how much she yearned for something that no longer mattered. Her mom was gone.
“Your name is beautiful,” Serena continued. “Did your mother tell you where it came from?”
The question took her off guard. “I looked it up in a baby book once. It means ‘from the fairy fort.’” She shrugged. “I guess that’s self-explanatory. Except, it’s Celtic.”
“Yes, it is. But Celeste didn’t give you the name because of its meaning. Have you ever read ‘The Sword of Shannara’ by Terry Brooks?”
Shea felt her eyebrows lift. “I’m named after a character in a book?” She couldn’t believe it. Her mother had never been frivolous. She’d rarely smiled. And when she had, it had usually been directed at her dad.
“Actually, it was a series of books. Your mother loved them. She particularly liked the character of Shea.”
&nbs
p; “Why?”
“Because he had a quest to undertake and when he completed it, all was right in the world. She knew you would have a hard road. One you would have to travel alone.” Serena sighed, her expression sobering. “I wish I could tell you all you had to do was perform a spell and this would all be over.
Spell Bound (Darkly Enchanted) Page 22