Tall, Dark and Paranormal: 10 Thrilling Tales of Sexy Alpha Bad Boys

by Opal Carew

  His lips ate at hers with a hunger she echoed, and her mouth opened to allow his tongue in. His taste seeped into her blood-stream like a fast-acting drug, tantalizing her nerve endings and making her head spin.

  She shouldn’t respond, for both their sakes. But she couldn’t help herself. This was her man, the man she’d always loved, would always love. Couldn’t live without. Couldn’t bear to lose him again.

  Her arms rose to snake around his waist—and he shoved away from her.

  Eyes wide, bare chest heaving, Quinn looked as shocked as she felt. She didn’t know how long they stood there, staring at each other. She couldn’t help but hope he wasn’t done. That he didn’t have the strength to walk away from her. Because she knew if he took her in his arms again, it would be the end of her resistance. She would give herself to him because she wouldn’t be able to stop, wouldn’t want to stop.

  Then his eyes closed and he groaned, just a small sound at the back of his throat.

  “Gods-be-damned, I love you, Serena. It’s in my genes, for fuck’s sake. But I can’t live like this. If you don’t want me, then tell me. I’ll find someone who does, someone who won’t turn me away.”

  Without looking at her again, he walked out of the room.

  Despair tore through her body with poisonous agony. Images of Quinn with faceless women bombarded her brain. She didn’t want to imagine him with anyone else, couldn’t bear to think of some other woman’s hands on his lean body or sinking into his shaggy blond hair.

  Though Quinn had the soul of her mate, she also knew he was just Quinn. Niccolo had rarely smiled and his mood had scarcely wavered. Quinn’s smile appeared at the slightest provocation and his mood could change in a blink. His fierce loyalty to his family and friends was legendary, but Goddess forbid if you got on his bad side. He could be intractable.

  Like now. He wanted all or nothing.

  And either would tear her heart out of her chest.

  * * *

  They sat down to eat in the kitchen around eight. Tension hung in the air like smoke, and Gabriel had had just about as much as he could take.

  The kid was too tired to talk so he just shoveled food. Shea looked shell-shocked and only managed a couple of mouthfuls before she started pushing food around her plate.

  Quinn couldn’t take his eyes off Serena, and Serena didn’t look at anyone as she floated between the stove and the table, refilling bowls and picking at a few pieces of melon. She never could eat when she was worried. Stress showed in the furrows on her forehead and the ashen pallor beneath her skin.

  Gabriel knew his mother. He knew she was worried about Quinn, worried about Shea. But it was Leo that had her tied in knots at the moment.

  He’d caught the look of absolute desolation in her eyes when she’d first seen him. The same look Gabriel probably had the night Shea came to his door in Reading.

  Leo looked so much like Nino. Her dead son. The brother Gabriel hadn’t been able to save.

  Christ, they were lucky the house didn’t explode from the tension.

  “So, Quinn,” Gabriel asked the first question that came to mind that didn’t deal with a touchy subject. “How’s the new club in Jersey?”

  Quinn jerked then shook his head as if to clear it. “Good. We’re almost ready to open.”

  “You gonna work there for a while?”

  “Yeah, then I thought I’d head out to Vegas, see how the casino’s holding up.”

  At the sink, Serena dropped the plates she’d been holding, pottery clattering on porcelain.

  Quinn’s eyes narrowed as he continued. “After that, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll head overseas for a vacation. A few months away might do me some good.”

  Serena stiffened but continued to stack dishes in the sink.

  Gabriel knew what Quinn was up to, knew he was pushing her. At any other time, he’d be okay with it. But not now. Not—

  “That sounds great,” Shea said. “A vacation sounds great right about now.”

  She said it in a teasing tone but the longing in her voice made Gabriel’s stomach twist. He wished he could take her and Leo away. Make it safe for them to go to Disney World or the Grand Canyon or hell, even the Jersey shore for a weekend.

  “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 cra
wling 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 released 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?”