“You’re Dante’s new girlfriend.” One of Dante’s numerous teenage cousins smiled at her, the braces on her teeth shining.
Another asked, “Are you really a private investigator?”
She found herself surrounded by teenage boys, discussing some of the finer details of private investigations, such as stake outs and gun fights.
She escaped just in time to be snagged by another relative whose face and name she didn’t remember, but who dragged her over to discuss whether or not Teresa ought to be out and about so soon after her surgery. After determining that the Teresa under discussion was not Dante’s mother, Beth withdrew from the conversation as gracefully as she could, only to find her arm firmly clasped once more by the energetic Aunt Rosa.
Aunt Rosa introduced her to Dante’s grandmother, a spry woman in her eighties who didn’t hear a word Beth said, but repeated over and over again “Elisabetta, bella, bella!” and shoved breadsticks into her hands.
Trying to move away, she found herself in the grip of a strong, if slightly intoxicated, uncle who whirled her out onto the dance floor, leered cheerfully down her dress and asked her where she kept her gun.
Escaping from the uncle when his wife took him in hand, Beth finally managed to make her way back to the table, her head reeling half in Italian, half in English as the party really got under way.
Dante was nowhere to be found.
Teresa, her toes tapping, took Beth onto the dance floor to help herd the children. Beth took Francesca’s twins in hand, kicking off her heels and dancing as energetically as the children surrounding her. An only child, she didn’t often get a chance to play with children, but she loved them. One day she hoped to have at least two. She didn’t want her kids growing up as lonely as she’d been.
Sometime during the chicken dance, Beth looked up, laughing hysterically at little John having chicken seizures.
Dante was watching her, a strange, soft expression on his face. His sisters stood by him, Anna grinning hugely, Francesca scowling. Gio looked beyond pleased as he chatted with Anna.
Before Beth could respond she was snatched once again, this time by Dante’s father. He handed her shoes to her and dragged her out of the ballroom. “Let’s get out of here.”
Slipping her pumps back on, Beth followed him outside. She was surprised to see him smoking in front of the building. “It can get a little rowdy in there.” He smiled. “I thought you might like a break.”
His quiet, deep voice reminded her of Dante. “Thanks,” she sighed, sitting on the cold stone retaining wall that held the restaurant’s plants and shrubs. She gratefully shrugged on the dress jacket he handed her when a particularly cold breeze caused her to shiver.
His chuckle was deep. “I remember my first party with Teresa’s family. Everyone spoke Italian, and I couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying.”
“Can you understand it now?” she asked, watching him curiously.
“Nope.” He grinned, puffing on his cigarette. “I’m a fourth-generation Italian. I know what lasagna and mangia mean, and that’s it.”
“Metti che fuori adesso.” Teresa led Dante out of the restaurant, stopping before Russ with a huff. Teresa placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. “You know you’re not supposed to smoke. The doctor told you this, stupido!” Her hands waved in the air as she continued scolding her husband in a spate of furious Italian that held Beth spellbound.
Russ’s occasional “Yes, dear” and “No, dear” only served to make the lecture more amusing, and gave the lie to his inability to speak Italian.
Dante’s shoulders shook as he tried to keep his laughter silent.
Teresa led the now meekly compliant Russ back into the restaurant. Beth could still hear Teresa scolding him as the door closed behind them.
“Dante?”
“Hmm?”
“Your family is insane.”
“And you are surprised why?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, grinning.
They stared at each other for a moment before Beth let the laugh free. Francesca was going to be a pain in her ass, but the rest of Dante’s family?
Oh, Beth was very much in love with Dante’s family. And, whether she liked it or not, she was beginning to feel the same way about Dante himself.
Chapter Twelve
He walked her up to her apartment, hoping she’d ask him in for a cup of coffee before sending him on his way. It wasn’t that late, only eleven o’clock, and he was dying to kiss her.
He’d had a much better time at Aunt Rosa’s party than he’d expected, and that was due in large part to Elizabeth’s presence. As his grandmother had said, Elisabetta was bella. For once, people were speculating about his love life, rather than the lack of one.
Now if he could just get his sister to shut up about Lillian things would be damn near perfect. Elizabeth just...fit. Him, his life, his career and even his family.
Lillian never really had.
Not once during their marriage had he been tempted to tell Lillian what he really was. Elizabeth knew, and accepted, that part of him already.
She was perfect, and he couldn’t be prouder to have her on his arm.
They stopped outside her door, and she hesitated as she pulled out her keys. “Do you want to come in?”
Does the sun rise in the East? “Yes.”
She smiled as she turned to unlock her door. “I have some coffee and a little...cake...” The smile froze in place, and he realized that the key wouldn’t be necessary. “Dante.”
“I see it.” Someone had broken into her apartment. He gently pushed the door open.
“Fuck.”
He got one look over her shoulder before he pushed her aside and entered the trashed apartment. He reached for his missing gun, the one he’d left behind so he didn’t scare his Aunt Rosa, before leaning over cautiously and pulling his backup gun from his ankle holster. Motioning for Elizabeth to remain behind him, he entered the room, gun at the ready, and surveyed the scene before him.
Her couch was ripped to shreds. The coffee table had been upended, the legs broken off. The ugly armchair had been turned upside down, the cushion slashed, the underside ripped open. Ancient fluff from the two upholstered pieces lined the floors. The computer desk had been upended, files scattered all over the floor. The computer and laptop were smashed. Both computer cases had been opened, and parts were strewn around the upturned desk like broken dolls. The office chair had nail polish splashed all over it. The door to the balcony was wide open, the vertical blinds moving in the cold air like cheap wind chimes.
Dante moved into the kitchen, noting absently the food thrown on the floor.
He also found Elizabeth moving behind him, but let her disobedience go. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’d known she wouldn’t stay too far behind him.
No partner would.
In the tiny bedroom, a place Dante hadn’t seen before, all of Elizabeth’s clothes had been doused in kerosene and piled in the middle of the bed. “I think the intruder planned on starting a bonfire.”
“Too bad he left the weenies on the kitchen floor.”
Dante couldn’t bring himself to smile. She was far more frightened than she wanted him to know, but her voice gave her away. It was shaking.
The mattress was in tattered ruins, the sheets heaped with the clothing in the middle. In the small bathroom, someone had thrown all of her makeup and toiletries into the tub and then filled it with water. He cursed under his breath as a faint green miasma swirled around him.
He realized that Elizabeth was no longer behind him and headed back out to the living room. Dante was reasonably certain no one else was in the one-bedroom apartment, but he didn’t want her alone, not when her fear had been so obvious. The urge to drag her out of here and back to his home, or be
tter yet to Gabriel’s, rode him hard.
There’d been Shem stench in her bedroom, and he found that intolerable. The creature had come into her home, her sanctuary, and violated it.
He found her standing at the railing of the balcony and looking over the edge. Even in the dark he could see how clenched her hands were on the railing. Joining her he could see why.
There was a fire escape ladder, the kind made out of heavy-duty hooks, rope and wood, hanging from the balcony railing. “Che cazzo?”
“Whoever trashed my apartment made his escape this way, probably while we were at the front door.” He understood why she’d been holding so tightly to the railing as she picked up a bit of the rope ladder. Her hands were shaking so hard the steps were clanging against the building. “We probably just missed him.”
Dante wondered if the intruder had been on the balcony while he’d been inspecting the apartment. Meeting Elizabeth’s angry gaze, he saw the same question swirling through her.
She took a deep breath, visibly pulling herself together. She dropped the ladder with a grimace. “We need to call the police.”
He took hold of her hand, noting absently how cold it was. “This was a Shem attack. The police can’t help here.” He gently tugged her back into her trashed apartment. “We will get this fucker.” Before the Shem had a chance to do any more damage to Elizabeth.
She nodded sharply. “Then you need to call whoever it is who deals with this kind of thing.”
The only place to sit that wasn’t slashed beyond recognition was her office chair. He settled her on it and pulled out his cell phone. When Damien answered he didn’t bother with the usual pleasantries. “Damien. I need you and Seth at this address.” He rattled off Elizabeth’s address, aware of the way her gaze followed him. She was absorbing everything he said, and he couldn’t care less. She’d meet another part of the family of his heart tonight, and his partners would help him crush the Shem who’d dared invade her home.
“I’ll call Seth,” Damien said. “Sit tight, we’re on our way. Stay safe, my brother.”
Dante repeated back the ritual words absently before hanging up. “Don’t touch anything.”
It didn’t take long for Damien and Seth to arrive. Seth whistled when he saw the damage. “Whoa.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Is that gas I smell?”
“Kerosene.” Damien poked his head into the kitchen. “This is some serious rage going on.”
“Dante.” Elizabeth stood next to him, studying his friends. “Who’s that?”
Right. She’d never met Damien before. “Damien Wyatt, this is Elizabeth Rand. Elizabeth, one of my Neph brothers, Damien.”
Her brows rose. “Wyatt, as in Wyatt Industries?”
“The same.”
“Huh.”
Damien studied Elizabeth closely, slowly frowning. “Nice to meet you too.”
Elizabeth just smiled, but it was strained. Dante would have to question her about that later, after he’d dealt with the mess her apartment was in.
Seth pulled Elizabeth into a hug. “Abby wanted me to tell you that if you need a place to stay, you’re welcome with us.”
Elizabeth hugged him back. “Thanks, Seth.”
Damien pulled Dante aside as Seth comforted Elizabeth. “What the hell were you doing here tonight, Dante?”
Dante felt himself flushing. “Private business.”
“Private, my ass. Why is Elizabeth all dressed up?” Damien glared at him in astonishment. “I know you like Elizabeth, but are you seriously telling me you two went on a date while being chased by a Shem?”
“It’s pri-vate,” Dante growled.
Damien studied him for a moment. The man knew him far too well. “Wasn’t your Aunt Rosa’s birthday party tonight?”
“Damn it, Damien.”
“She’s a human, Dante. You know better.”
“She’s also in the line of fire. You heard what that Shem said.” Hell, Dante’d had a couple of nightmares about what the Shem Angelus had said. “‘Your woman won’t last the week.’”
“I remember, but—”
“Someone has to keep an eye on her.” And hell if it was going to be anyone but him.
“Is that what you call it? Keeping an eye on her? Cause the size of that hickey says you’re keeping a lot more on her than just your peepers.” Damien’s sharp gaze didn’t miss a thing.
“Stronzo.”
“Dante. I don’t want you to lose her, all right?” Damien sighed roughly. “Take her to Gabriel’s.”
“She won’t go.” Hell, he could barely get her to acknowledge that she needed his help for this case. No way would he convince her to hide out in the archangel’s home.
“Drag her if you need to.” Damien grabbed his arm, holding tight. “I can’t lose another brother, Dante. With Raphael missing, nothing seems right anymore. I can’t lose you too.”
Dante embraced Damien, hugging the man tight. “You won’t.”
Damien shivered just once, then pulled free. “Okay then.” Damien glanced toward the mess. “This is big. Elizabeth is your weakness, and they’ll exploit it.”
Flames licked his arms. “They can try.”
Damien chuckled darkly. “I’m thinking they’ll regret it.” He stared at Dante, his expression fierce. “You need us to help, you call us, understand?”
“I understand.”
“Good.” Damien nodded, but it was obvious he was far from convinced. “How’s Purvis?”
Dante winced. “I went the first day he was in the hospital, but I haven’t been back since. Been busy with the Blake case and keeping an eye on Elizabeth.”
“Yeah.” Damien kicked a bit of broken side table. “It’s going to come back. It didn’t get to finish the job, not from that smell of gas.”
“I know.” Elizabeth wouldn’t spend another night in this apartment, not if Dante could help it. “And we’ll be ready for him.”
Damien nodded sharply. “Get her out of here. Let Seth and me search for clues.”
“I’m taking her to my place.”
“You and I know she’d be safer with Gabriel.”
Dante just scowled at Damien. There was no way he was letting Elizabeth out of his sight, and he knew her well enough now to know she’d run if he tried to force her into a safe little bubble.
“Fine. Stubborn bastard. But let Gabriel know she’s with you. If we need to take turns guarding her, knowing where she’s living will help.”
It was a good idea. They’d all watched over Abby when a Shem had been stalking her. If he needed the same courtesy for Elizabeth, the others would need to know where she was. “Will do.”
Beth was subdued when Dante reentered the apartment. “The bad guy left over the balcony down my own god damn fire escape ladder.” She stood, her posture weary, her expression haunted. She pushed her glasses up her nose. “If you don’t mind, I’m kind of tired. I’d like to get some of this mess cleaned up and get some sleep.”
He stared at her. Had she lost her damn mind? “I don’t think so.” He waved his hands at the damage the Shem had inflicted. “Do you think I’m leaving you alone in an apartment someone broke into and had every intention of setting on fire?”
“Dante—”
He made a slashing motion as he ruthlessly cut her off. “Stai zitto!” He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking, but you’d better rethink it.”
She scowled at him. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”
“Yes, I did, because you were about to say something stupid like ‘Dante, go home,’ or ‘Dante, I’m going to sleep.’” He waved as if saying goodbye. “‘Good night!’”
Elizabeth glared at him. “Apparently someone stamped Stupid on my forehea
d at your Aunt’s party.”
“Apparently so.” When she went to stomp past him he grabbed her arm. “I’m not going anywhere. No, scratch that. We’re both going somewhere. Get your coat and let’s go.”
“This is all a ploy to get me alone in your house, isn’t it?”
He actually freaking growled, his hands waving around madly. “I don’t care if you invite the entire god damn Eagles football team, you’re going with me. I am not leaving you here alone, capisce?” The thought terrified him, made him want to sling her over his shoulder like a caveman and drag her back to his lair.
She leaned forward and took both of his hands in hers. “Gee, Dante, tell me how you really feel.”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He stared at her holding his hands, his mind completely blank. He tugged, trying to free himself, but she wasn’t letting go.
She began to laugh. It seemed Dante was more like her Italian friends than she’d thought. Get him worked up, the hands roving all over the place, then grab hold and watch his lips seal shut. “What’s the matter? P.I. got your tongue?”
Tugging fiercely, he managed to get his hands free. “Knock it off,” he muttered, waving one hand.
The gesture only made her laugh harder. In an effort to stop the laughter, he did the only thing he could think of.
Kissing her was definitely a mistake, especially with his brothers in the apartment, but he couldn’t seem to care. He took her mouth with barely restrained passion, restraint forgotten as her tongue dueled his thrust for thrust. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted someone this badly.
He was taking her home and putting her in his bed. “Let’s go.”
She shivered. “Okay.”
Within moments they were out the door and on their way. He could barely drive straight, his cock demanding he pull over and take Elizabeth right where she sat, so tempting to his senses. The fire within him burned hotter whenever she was near, fierce and wild, ready to claim the woman who’d managed to steal his heart.
The Fire Within Page 16