Dark Symphony (Dark Series - book 10)

by Christine Feehan

He grinned at her. “Like the proverbial ghost.”

  Tasha took a deep breath. “Do you really think Paul was trying to kill Antonietta? Do you think he’s capable of murdering her and

  Nonno

  because of a gambling debt?” Her questions came out in a little rush.

  Byron hesitated, weighing his words carefully. “People do things they would not ordinarily do when they are very afraid. It is possible someone has threatened his life and he is desperate. I would hope not, but you know him better than anyone. What do you think?”

  “I think I wish we were discussing Marita, not my brother. That one is so hungry for money and social position. She can’t even see what she has, she’s so greedy for more.”

  It was a typical Tasha comment, one Byron would have expected of her, but he felt he knew her a little better, and she simply said things for effect, not necessarily because she thought they were so. It was either a habit or a protection. Byron couldn’t decide which, and it didn’t matter.

  Tasha sighed. “Paul used to have the sweetest heart. I hardly recognize him anymore. He takes advantage of everyone.” She looked down at her hands. “If you had known him before, you could never have considered that he would try to harm Antonietta.”

  “Yet you are considering the possibility that Paul might choose to harm her now. Tell me this: If something happened to your grandfather, who inherits?”

  “The bulk of his fortune would go to Antonietta. For all I know, it could already be in her name, but the rest of us would receive several million each.”

  “Several million each? That much? All of you?”

  “Yes, of course. I don’t know exactly what

  Nonno

  ’s worth, but it’s massive. He’s quite wealthy. All of us will receive enough for a lifetime, even an excessive one.”

  “So everyone would benefit financially if Don Giovanni died? And if something were to happen to Antonietta? Is there a will?”

  “Of course. A Scarletti doesn’t turn around without a will.” Tasha looked uncomfortable. “I don’t really know who would inherit, but it is possible most of it would come to me.”

  “I see.”

  Two bright spots of color stained Tasha’s cheeks. Her enormous eyes flashed fire at him. “How dare you! What are you implying? Are you accusing me now?”

  He raised his hand to calm her volatile nature. “I was merely gathering facts. I have no idea who would want to harm your cousin, but I doubt very much if you would do such a thing for money.” Jealousy maybe. But not money. Byron thought it prudent to keep his thoughts to himself.

  “What is going on out here?” Antonietta swept out of her private bath, fragrant and alluring.

  Bryon’s breath caught in his lungs. Everything about Antonietta glowed from the inside out. He took her hand, brought her fingertips to his mouth. “Tasha and I are getting to know one another. We have, for your sake, decided to call a truce.”

  Tasha went right past Byron and gathered her cousin to her. “I was worried about you, Toni.”

  “I was worried about me, too,” Antonietta admitted. “I honestly felt if Byron was gone, I couldn’t continue.” She hugged Tasha back, feeling the trembling in her cousin’s body.

  “You are far too sensitive, Antonietta. I should have taken precautions,” Byron said. “Another Scarletti gift.” The first blood exchange had bound them dangerously close. If one had nearly made her mad with grief, what repercussions would the second exchange bring? He frowned, suddenly worried.

  “Byron is obviously alive and well,” Tasha pointed out. “You can’t make yourself sick with grief like this again, Toni. And poor

  Nonno

  is beside himself. You must go to him, or he’ll never go to bed.”

  “I will, Tasha. Until I knew Byron was safe and out of danger, I couldn’t bear to look upon anyone. And I need to check on Margurite, too. Is she happier now that she is home? Is she better tonight, Tasha? In less pain?”

  “She’s very restless. Marita has been harping on her that Scarlettis do not cry, that we don’t make a fuss, that she should take the time confined as she is to study and fill her mind with great things. What do you suppose is wrong with that woman?” Tasha was clearly exasperated. “I’ve spent several hours reading to Margurite and playing games, but Marita won’t even allow television. She wants Margurite to read. Franco can’t even dissuade her, and he tried, I heard them argue. If you would look at her again and see if you can speed her healing, it would be wonderful.”

  Byron was intrigued with the way they took the Scarletti gifts for granted. It was a natural part of their lives, just as his gifts were. They were comfortable with the use of them.

  “Byron has some ability in the area of healing. He’s the one who attended my shoulder, even when he was in such danger,” Antonietta said. “Maybe between the two of us, we can speed her recovery. As for Marita, she seems to be obsessed with Margurite becoming a great scholar and is forgetting to allow her to be a child. She was never like this before.”

  “That’s true,” Tasha agreed. She sighed. “Honestly, Antonietta, everything seems to be falling apart all of a sudden. Tonight, I asked Helena to have a tray brought for

  Nonno

  , and he seemed reluctant to eat the food. He was muttering to himself, and I swear, he said I was trying to poison him. He denied it when I confronted him, but I swear that’s what he said, and he didn’t touch the food. The crazy part is, Paul did the exact same thing. I took the tray up to his room myself, and he threw it against the wall and said I was trying to poison him.” She waved her arms. “I don’t know how you put up with them all. Two minutes later, he was acting like I dropped the tray.”

  “Why would you take the food personally to your grandfather and cousin?” Byron demanded. “You have never done such a thing in your life.”

  Tasha glared at him. “I was trying to take Antonietta’s place.

  Nonno

  was so upset, and he hadn’t eaten all day, so I insisted on a food tray for him.”

  “Where is the food? Was it taken to the kitchen?” Byron nearly growled the question. Antonietta turned her head sharply toward him in inquiry.

  Tasha shrugged. “How would I know? I certainly didn’t clean either mess myself, I had Helena handle it. I doubt if they kept the food. It must have gone in the garbage can.” She lifted her eyebrow. “Surely you’re not hungry. And if you are, please don’t eat from the trash. We do have decent food elsewhere.”

  “Your truces do not last long, do they Tasha?”

  “Not when you behave like a moron.” She looked down her nose at him. “I often do good deeds around the palazzo. Why wouldn’t I?”

  Antonietta decided to intervene. “What of Enrico? Has there been any word on our missing chef?” She casually tucked her hand into Byron’s arm to hold him to her side. The moment he had heard of Don Giovanni’s and Paul’s strange behavior, she sensed he knew what their actions meant.

  Tell me. Let me go to the kitchen and do a little investigating first. You think the food had poison in it, don’t you? How could either of them possibly know such a thing?

  “Enrico is still missing. The wonderful captain was here, but of course we couldn’t allow him to know what had transpired, so we entertained him briefly, allowed him to search Enrico’s room again, and he left.” There was regret in Tasha’s voice. “He’s quite nice, Antonietta. And he loves the opera. I told him that for your next performance, I would try to get him good seats, and he said only if I attended with him.”

  “Did you keep him away from Paul?”

  “Paul wouldn’t come out of his room except to speak with Don Giovanni. He wouldn’t see Franco or me, but Justine was in and out several times. I wasn’t about to allow the captain near him. Paul was so upset, I was afraid he’d turn himself in.” Tasha glanced warily at Byron. “You aren’t really going to go to the authorities, are you?”

  “No, Tasha, I have no intentions of turning
your brother in.”

  “

  Grazie

  , you are a good man to be so kind.”

  “Do not mistake my intentions for kindness.” There was a distinct bite to Byron’s voice, and for a moment his teeth gleamed white like that of a wolf. A fierce flame burned in the depths of his eyes, giving his pupils the illusion of a fiery red.

  Tasha gasped and stepped away from him, her hand going to her throat protectively. She blinked the illusion away, feeling foolish when there were only Byron’s familiar dark eyes glinting at her. Watching her. Without blinking. Much like that of a predator. She shivered, afraid all over again.

  Beside Antonietta, Celt lowered his head, his eyes focusing on Byron, his hair up. The ever-present supreme hunter.

  Antonietta put her hand on Tasha’s shoulder. “What is it? And don’t say ‘Nothing.’ ” Gently she touched the dog’s head in a gesture meant to soothe. “Celt senses something. A wild animal perhaps.” Do you smell the cat, Byron?

  Tasha hesitated. “I’m being silly. For a moment Byron frightened me. He reminded me of a…” She trailed off. She could hardly say wolf.

  Byron bowed from the waist. “I did not mean to alarm you, Tasha. I just do not want you to get the wrong impression. Paul nearly killed Antonietta. If he is the one behind the attacks, he will not get away with it. I will see to it personally. And if he proves to be innocent and someone else has targeted her, I will find them.”

  Celt smells the shape-shifter in me. Do not worry. There is no danger near us.

  Byron wasn’t bragging, Tasha decided, he wasn’t even threatening. He meant every word and uttered each with absolute conviction. The thought set her heart pounding. There was retribution buried in his tone.

  “I will go down to the kitchen to investigate and then meet the two of you in Margurite’s room.”

  Celt, forgive me, my friend, the wolf comes out in me at the thought of Antonietta in danger.

  Byron placed his palm in front of the dog’s nose, allowing him to catch the mixed scent.

  The dog’s alert posture changed immediately, the tension draining from the animal, although he stayed protectively close to Antonietta. She stroked the dog’s head with caressing fingers. “Celt is already such a part of my life, I can’t imagine what I did without him,” Antonietta said.

  “He’s so devoted to you,” Tasha observed, “but he’s so big and sort of scary. We’ve never had a dog in the palazzo. Margurite will love him. Is he good with children?”

  “Celt loves children. A borzoi is a great family addition. A companion and protector. Believe me, the children will come to love him,” Byron assured her. He reached out to scratch Celt’s ears. His hand brushed Antonietta’s. Instantly, electricity sizzled and arced between them. The sexual tension in the room was shattering.

  Antonietta rubbed her body along his, a contented cat, stretching leisurely. Byron bent his head to hers. Heat raced over Antonietta’s skin, spread through her body instantly.

  She wrapped her arms around Byron’s neck, her mouth melding to his. The world was gone in an instant. There was only heat and fire and the feel of his hard, masculine frame pressed so tightly to hers.

  Tasha’s gaze narrowed in disgust, bored into their backs. She made a soft hissing noise of distaste. Byron swung Antonietta around, moving her toward the stained glass window even as he seemed to be devouring her, feeding on her mouth with voracious hunger. Tasha blinked, and the couple was difficult to see. The moonlight hit the glass in some way that spread a hazy veil around Antonietta and Byron. Tasha curled her hand into a fist, her fingernails driving into her palm.

  She felt his eyes on her. Dark. Brooding. Filled with speculation. Engulfed in Byron’s arms, Antonietta couldn’t be seen, but his head went up alertly as if sensing danger. The hair on the back of her neck actually stood up in response to the intensity of his gaze. Tasha shivered and hurried to the door.

  “Are you coming, Toni? It’s so late,

  Nonno

  should already be in bed.”

  “Of course I’m coming.” There was a multitude of shared secrets in Antonietta’s voice. She kissed Byron again. “I won’t be long.”

  “Keep Celt with you.” It came out a command. Byron buried enough of a compulsion in his voice that Antonietta didn’t hesitate, even though she frowned. Antonietta was clearly used to going her own way and making her own decisions, and very few people attempted to tell her what to do.

  “Toni!” Tasha said sharply.

  Antonietta touched fingertips with Byron, the merest brush, signaling camaraderie. She knew very well that Tasha, in spite of her truce, was displaying her disapproval. She’s temperamental.

  She is mental.

  Antonietta burst out laughing. Tasha glared at Byron, suspecting the two of whispering together, or worse, of being amused by her jealousy. She reached out to grab her cousin’s wrist with every intention of yanking her out of the room. Somehow the dog was there, inserting its body almost casually. The dark eyes looked quite innocent.

  “I feel like kicking you,” Tasha said, closing the door to Antonietta’s bedroom with a louder than necessary thud. She hoped she shut it on Byron’s nose.

  “Why would you want to kick me?” Antonietta asked as she followed Tasha into the wide hall.

  “Not you, the idiot dog and that man you are climbing all over. What kind of a display is that, Toni? You have a certain position to uphold. You shouldn’t be making a fool of yourself over a man.”

  The whip of contempt in Tasha’s voice made Antonietta wince. “I was in my own private quarters, so I don’t see how I could have been making too much of a fool of myself.”

  “You’re acting like a lovesick teenager. It’s embarrassing. And that dog is annoying. He’s too big and gets in the way all the time. Why would you want a dog underfoot? I don’t know what Byron was thinking giving him to you. If Marita finds out he’s dangerous, there will be hell to pay.”

  “Why would you think he’s dangerous?” Antonietta allowed her exasperation to show. “You may not like Byron, Tasha, and that’s okay with me, but don’t you make trouble for Celt just out of spite.”

  “I’m never spiteful.” Tasha’s feet beat out a rhythm of annoyance. “Five minutes with a man, and you’re turning on your own family. I hope you realize you’re totally infatuated. It’s sickening to watch you make an utter fool of yourself, but by all means, don’t listen to my advice.”

  “I haven’t heard any advice,” Antonietta said, “just sour grapes.”

  Unexpectedly, Tasha laughed. “That’s so true. I’m so jealous I could tear out that man’s eyes. I want to be involved in a love affair. In a drama. In something. Someone tries to murder you, Paul even shoots you. You spend an entire day in mourning. It was so perfect, the palazzo silent and all of us caught up in your grief. And then I come up to find a man in your bedroom and you positively glowing. It’s enough to make me throw myself from the battlements in absolute envy. Well,” she hedged, “the lower balcony.”

  “He’s so wonderful,” Antonietta said. She found it easy to walk with Celt beside her, his body posture guiding her far better than even Justine had managed.

  “I’m sure you think so. He still frightens me, Toni, and I don’t know why. Paul said he saved your life at the risk of his own, yet I’m still afraid of him. There’s something about him that isn’t right.”

  “Everything about him is right for me.” Antonietta went down the long, sweeping staircase with total confidence. Sometimes she felt Celt shared his eyes with her. She saw nothing, yet she knew exactly where to step as if he were guiding her through imaging in her mind.

  Tasha placed a hand on Antonietta’s arm to stop her before she turned toward Don Giovanni’s rooms. “Why was Paul in the passageway? And why would he have a gun? Did he tell you?”

  “He owes money to some dangerous people. He said he purchased the gun for protection. And he was in the passageway to steal the Scarletti treasures
and pawn them to pay his debts.”

  Tasha shook her head sadly. “I thought he quit gambling. He promised us. He didn’t tell me he needed money. Did he go to you? Or Don Giovanni? Why would he make a decision to steal from the family?” She sank down abruptly on the bottom stairs. “I’m sorry, Toni. I didn’t know. I thought he would come to me if he were in trouble. I’m so ashamed.”

  Antonietta heard her weeping softly. She laid a comforting hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “You aren’t responsible for Paul, Tasha. He’s a grown man, and he makes his own decisions. He’ll have to face up to this. He nearly killed both Byron and me. Hopefully, he’ll think about that and get help before it’s too late.”

  Tasha lifted her head, swiping at the tears, careful of her makeup. “You have to tell

  Nonno

  the truth.”

  Antonietta sighed. “I suppose so, but I’m not looking forward to it.” Where are you? She needed comfort. A battle with her grandfather over Paul’s fate was more than she wanted to deal with. She had a mad desire to dash back up the stairs and lock herself in her bedroom, keeping Byron a prisoner there.

  I am raiding your kitchen, looking for clues. I think my detective skills need work.

  Antonietta wrapped his laughter around her like an invisible shield.

  I like the idea of being your prisoner, by the way. Especially if the door were locked, and your family stayed away for a very long while. There are traces of the same substance I found in you, your grandfather, and Paul in the remains of the food in the rubbish.

  Antonietta’s smile faded. If she believed Byron, someone in her own home was trying to kill all three of them.

  There’s no mistake? You’re certain?

  Cara mia

  , I would never alarm you without cause. He sent her waves of warmth and reassurance. Go to your grandfather. He is distressed and needs to sleep. You can talk to him about Paul later.

  “I’m going in to

  Nonno

  , Tasha. Would you like to come with me?”

  “I think I’ll just sit here awhile and feel very sorry for myself, and then we can meet in Margurite’s room. I promised her I’d sleep in her room tonight.”