Fire Maidens: Venice

by Lowe, Anna

  That set off the next stage of the fight — another blur. The next clear memory Tony had was of staring down at Caselli’s lifeless body.

  But there was no time for regret, only action. Tiberio had more men at his disposal, and they would be on their way soon.

  Come with me. Quickly, Tony had urged Fabricio’s mate.

  The woman shook her head. Leave us alone. I beg you.

  Tony had held out a hand. I swear I won’t hurt you. Come now. Quickly.

  Shouts broke out upstairs, and Fabricio yelled out in a strangled voice. The children! Take them to safety!

  Footsteps pounded on the main stairs, telling Tony more men were on the way. Turncoats who were loyal to Tiberio, not Fellini or the Guardians of Venice.

  You, he ordered the elderly servant. Hurry ahead. Do you have a boat?

  When the old man gave a hesitant nod, Tony fluttered his hands.

  Well, get it ready.

  After a gulp, the woman nodded. Go, Fidelio. Please. Prepare the boat.

  Off went the creaky old servant, leaving Tony with the woman and her children. As gently as possible, he guided them down the stairs. But the children clung to their mother, slowing every step. Tony had no choice but to reach for the bigger of the two, a young girl.

  Here. I’ll take her. You carry your son. Hurry, now.

  As frightened as the mother was, the little girl was even more terrified. In shock, most likely. She clung to Tony with her eyes squeezed shut, doubling Tony’s resolve.

  No ill will befall this child, he swore. I will keep her safe.

  Finally, they reached the villa’s canalside entrance. There, Fidelio stood at the wheel of a boat, its motor already idling. Once the mother had stepped aboard with her son, Tony had handed the little girl to Fidelio, praying the old man wouldn’t drop her.

  The old man’s arms shook, but he got the girl in, then hurried back to the wheel.

  Fabricio, the woman whispered, looking toward the upper story.

  Tony’s heart broke, but he shook his head. Your mate begged you to flee. So please — go. Keep the children safe.

  Tears filled the woman’s eyes, but she nodded. Tony pushed the boat away from the dock and motioned to Fidelio. Go. Quickly.

  Thank you, the woman whispered. Her voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the engine, and yet it had echoed in Tony’s mind ever since.

  When the boat was a few feet away, the little girl looked up for the first time, pinning Tony with a look that would always haunt him.

  * * *

  All that had happened a decade earlier, and so much had changed since then. But one thing hadn’t — the innocent yellow-brown eyes staring into his.

  Tony sucked in a breath. That was all in the past. This was the present, and the little girl of his memories was nearly an adult.

  Fiorina had gone totally white, but she nodded. “This man saved me. Twice.”

  “My dear girl,” Don Ercole started in that same, you poor confused thing tone adults used with children.

  But Fiorina clenched her fists and spoke louder. “This man isn’t a murderer. He saved me and my family that awful night, when my father was killed.”

  Cara’s eyes shone at Tony. I knew I could trust you.

  He wanted to reach out and take her hand. Somehow, he knew he could trust her too.

  Still, he wished he could give the tragic story a better ending. Something along the lines of him rushing back upstairs in time to save Fabricio Fellini. But he’d wasted precious minutes fighting the men Tiberio had sent to stop him. By the time he’d reached the study on the top floor, Fellini was lying in a puddle of blood, heaving his last breaths. Tiberio had barely looked up, too busy rifling through the desk drawers.

  Fabricio looked ashen. Please. Spare my children…

  Tony had run to the fallen Guardian, trying to stanch the bleeding. But Tiberio had used his lion claws to slash deep into the man’s heart, inflicting wounds so severe, not even accelerated shifter healing could help.

  Your family is on their way to safety with Fidelio. I swear, they’re safe, Tony had whispered.

  Relief washed over Fabricio’s face. Then his features froze, and his body went limp.

  Sadly, that was the end of the story. Fiorina’s father had died. Tony had failed in his most basic duty — to protect those who protected Venice.

  You fool. What have you done? Tiberio had growled when he’d realized what Tony had done. I need that girl. Don’t you understand?

  No, Tony hadn’t. He still didn’t. Why did the Guardians treat Fiorina like a princess?

  But he was too submerged in the past to consider that now. Now, as then, his blood boiled. When Tiberio had lunged for him, he’d fought like never before, half in lion form, half human. Minutes later, Tony had plunged his claws deep into Tiberio’s chest and held them there.

  You have killed your last innocent man, he’d growled to a dying Tiberio.

  But Tiberio had managed one last, cruel laugh. I will get my revenge.

  Just then, a squad of men had stormed in.

  Thank goodness, Tony had thought at first. Meno male. Those new arrivals were loyal to the Guardians, not Tiberio’s private forces. Men he could count on, in other words.

  But Tiberio, the bastard, had summoned enough energy to hiss through clenched teeth.

  That man is a murderer. He’d pointed at Tony and lied with his dying breath. I tried to stop him, but he killed Fabricio, then attacked me.

  Tony had been tempted to fling Tiberio against a wall, but the guards held him back.

  Tiberio’s breath was rattly, but he managed to spit out a few more words, every one of them damning Tony. He wanted to kill the children too. You must stop this traitor before he threatens more innocent lives.

  Finally, Tiberio expired, but the damage was done. It was Tony’s word against that of a respected Guardian.

  Oh, he’d readily admitted to killing Tiberio and his men in defense of the children. But no one believed him — not the soldiers who’d heard Tiberio’s last words, nor the tribunal Tony had been dragged in to face shortly after. Meanwhile, the only witnesses who could attest to his innocence — the traumatized Fellini children and their mother — had gone into hiding.

  Until now. He stared at Fiorina, marveling.

  Destiny, his lion murmured. Maybe it really is on our side now.

  He couldn’t help but glance at Cara. Was destiny making up for everything he’d lost, or was it all just a cruel tease?

  Either way, a bitter taste filled his mouth. Nothing could make up for being falsely accused. Worse, all Venice had believed Tiberio’s lie. Tony’s friends had turned their backs on him, and his family had been ostracized. Which burned, because he was innocent of any crime except for being foolish enough to accept a job from Tiberio.

  One small mistake that had changed the course of his life forever.

  After a quick “trial,” Tony had been sentenced to death for the murder of two of Venice’s leading Guardians.

  The whole ordeal had been like watching a movie, right down to the detail of a monk who entered his cell for a final confession on the eve of his execution.

  Or so he’d thought, until the monk tossed back his hood and winked. Remember me?

  It was Fidelio, the loyal servant, who assured Tony the family was safe.

  They are deep in hiding, Fidelio explained. I dare not tell you — or anyone — where. But I will tell you this: the Fellini family does not forget its friends.

  Fidelio had patted Tony on the back and checked his watch. A few minutes later, he motioned Tony out of his cell into the strangely silent prison ward. The guards were all slumped over at their stations, and a bottle of wine stood empty on a table.

  Quickly, Fidelio had urged. The drug will wear off soon, but by then, you will have made your escape.

  And boy, had he. All the way across northern Italy and into France, where he’d disappeared into the ranks of the French Foreig
n Legion.

  Ten years ago. Ten long years fighting for a foreign country. But now, he was finally home.

  Looking past Fiorina, Tony gazed into Cara’s two-toned eyes.

  Home. A new beginning, his lion hummed.

  He sucked in a deep breath. Could it really be?

  Chapter Seven

  The meeting hall went utterly silent, and Cara stared. Tony was the man who’d saved Fiorina’s family?

  Back when she’d worked as an au pair, she hadn’t been told much. All she knew was that the family was in hiding after Fiorina’s father met a violent death — and that when Fiorina’s mother said grace at Sunday dinner, she always ended with two things.

  We pray for our beloved Fabricio and for the hero who saved our lives. We are eternally grateful for both. Amen.

  Amen, the children would echo, and Cara had too.

  She’d never asked who that hero was. But, wow — there he was, in the flesh.

  And man, oh man, was that a hell of a lot of flesh. Mostly muscle, from what she could tell, having fought side by side with him for a few chaotic minutes. But that experience, no matter how brief, had already helped them form a bond. Was that why her heart thumped or why she could barely drag her gaze away from his?

  “But Tiberio clearly said—” Ercole boomed.

  Fiorina winced, but Grazia stepped forward and patted Fiorina’s arm.

  “For goodness’ sake, Ercole. Did you bring this poor girl back to Venice to dismiss everything she says? Is that the role of a Fire Maiden?”

  Ercole bristled, though he held his tongue.

  All in all, the scene confirmed Cara’s resolve to avoid Venice’s shifter politics. But, wow. Fiorina was a Fire Maiden?

  Cara stared. Her great-grandparents had hailed from Venice, and they’d passed down countless legends from home. Among those were tales of Fire Maidens — powerful young women descended from the great dragon queen, Liviana. The benevolent monarch had assigned her daughters the task of ensuring peace and prosperity in each of Europe’s grand cities. And for years, it had worked — with the help of magical spells that enhanced their power.

  But the ancient spells were waning, and Venice’s last Fire Maiden had long since disappeared. That left only the shifter elites known as Guardians to watch over each city. And if Venice’s Guardians were anything to go by…

  Cara hid a grimace. No wonder the city was in such a state of decay.

  The gem Grazia had loaned her for the evening warmed against her skin as if to agree.

  Grazia patted Fiorina’s shoulder. “Now, then. Let’s hear what our Fire Maiden has to say.”

  Ismerelda bristled. “Must you further traumatize my poor niece?”

  Grazia cocked her head. “Traumatizing her or encouraging her to speak for herself?”

  Traumatizing, Cara decided. Fiorina’s hands shook, and she looked paler than ever. Cara slid an arm over her shoulders and mimicked taking a deep breath.

  Remember how we used to do this after you had a nightmare? she whispered into Fiorina’s mind.

  Fiorina managed a thin smile and did as Cara suggested. But when she moved her lips, only a nervous squeak came out.

  Pretend you’re talking to me. Just me, Cara tried.

  Fiorina gripped Cara’s hands, and the next time she tried, her shaky voice emerged.

  “There’s not much to say other than that. I remember this man. He saved us back then, and he saved me tonight. You saved me too,” Fiorina added, looking at Cara.

  Ercole looked about to protest, but a woman rushed in just then, and Fiorina ran over to hug her.

  “Oh, my dear girl. Are you all right?” Amalia, Fiorina’s mother, hugged Cara next. “Thank you. Thank you so much. Destiny has brought you to us yet again.”

  Cara hugged her back, as delighted as Amalia at the unexpected reunion. It was just the destiny part that made her wary.

  Then Amalia looked over Cara’s shoulder and froze. Everyone watched as she slowly approached Tony.

  “You…”

  One syllable wasn’t much to go on, but Amalia’s voice and hands shook. With fear? With emotion?

  How Tony stood so still, Cara didn’t know. The man was a rock, devoid of emotion. All but those honey-colored eyes that exuded honesty and honor.

  Cara shook her head. No way was that man a cold-blooded killer. But if Amalia didn’t say something soon…

  A dozen crazy scenarios rushed through Cara’s mind. Like creating a diversion to help him escape. Maybe even helping him fight his way out of that overdecorated palace before joining him in the life of a fugitive. They could flee to North America, establish new identities, live happily ever after, and—

  Whoa. She cut off the thought there. What was that all about?

  I like him, her lioness purred.

  Yes, she did, too. Instinctively. But still. Running off with him?

  It’s destiny, her inner beast insisted.

  Cara pursed her lips. Old-world shifters were big on that idea, but she’d been raised to think for herself. Who was destiny to tell her where, when, and with whom she should fall in love?

  And yet, there she was, blood pumping, heart yearning for a stranger she barely knew.

  Please, she wanted to urge Amalia. Say something.

  Ercole smirked and raised a finger, about to order the guards to take Tony away. Before he could, however, Amalia clasped Tony’s hands and fell to her knees.

  “It really is you.” Tears sprung from her eyes. “So many years, I prayed for a chance to thank you. I owe you everything, sir. My life. More importantly, the lives of my children. Without you, we would never have gotten away.”

  Cara exhaled. Ercole frowned, and Ismerelda did too. But Fiorina fell to her knees beside her mother, whispering, “Grazie, signore,” again and again.

  Tony pulled Amalia and Fiorina gently to their feet. “I only did what any man would.”

  Still, Ercole didn’t look satisfied. “By his own admission, this man killed Tiberio.”

  Grazia snorted. “Esattamente, my dear Ercole. By his own admission. This man has been telling the truth all along.”

  Ercole scowled. “It could be a ploy.”

  “Naturally. A ploy.” Grazia’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “This man ran down from Fabricio’s office, saved Amalia and the children, then ran up again and waited at Fabricio’s side until help arrived, all in a devious and brilliantly executed plan.” Then she threw up her hands. “For goodness’ sake, Ercole. Use your brain.”

  Cara held her breath, while Ercole turned crimson.

  But it was Fiorina, of all people, who broke the tension with her whisper.

  “Basta.” Enough. “Please. This man is no criminal. But someone out there is.” She gripped her mother’s hand and glanced out the window.

  Amalia stabbed a finger at Ercole. “You promised me my daughter would be safe here. You gave me your word.”

  “I warned you the Lombardis weren’t the only threat to watch out for,” one of the old Guardians scolded.

  Tony shook his head. “You never know with the Lombardis. But I believe that dragon clan was dealt its death blow by Lachlan McKenney’s forces in Scotland.”

  Ercole snorted. “How can you be sure?”

  “I was part of those forces.”

  Cara had no idea what Tony was talking about, but Ercole looked stunned. So did the other Guardians, who studied Tony with renewed respect.

  “We must monitor the remnants of that evil clan,” Tony continued. “But we must not be blind to their allies — or to new enemies, like those who targeted Fiorina this evening.”

  “Exactly,” Amalia agreed. “How do you propose to ensure my daughter’s safety?”

  Ercole motioned to the men standing at attention by the door. “We’ll double the guard.”

  “And if they fail?” Amalia demanded.

  Fiorina covered her face with her hands, trembling in a way that said, I wish I had never come to Venice. And frankly, Car
a couldn’t blame her. But to the girl’s credit, she raised her chin and gulped away her tears.

  “More isn’t better. All I ask is for someone I can trust. Someone I know.”

  Her eyes roved the room desperately before landing squarely on Cara.

  She took a step back. Whoa. Wait a minute. Saving the environment was her thing, not saving lives. What if she messed up?

  Fiorina and Amalia gazed at her with huge, imploring eyes.

  Cara opened, then closed her mouth, swallowing her protest. The Fellinis were like a second family. How could she let them down?

  Please, Amalia’s voice reached Cara’s mind. You know how vulnerable my daughter is. How trusting. How defenseless, despite everything I’ve tried.

  “Surely you’re not suggesting this…this…” Ercole motioned vaguely at Cara.

  “Wetlands ecologist?” She crossed her arms, refusing to cave in to his pushy ways.

  “What qualifies you as a bodyguard?” Ercole demanded.

  Cara wished she had a good answer. What did qualify her, other than occasionally leading women’s self-defense classes at her uncle’s gym?

  “Her actions this evening qualify her.” Tony motioned to Pietro and Luigi. “If you doubt me, ask them.”

  Pietro looked sheepishly at Luigi, who looked at the floor. “Well, she does have a passable right hook…”

  “Passable?” Tony rumbled.

  “You should have seen her,” Fiorina gushed. “Boom! She kicked one man right out the window. And, bam! She broke the other one’s nose.” The girl illustrated her point with amateurish little jabs and kicks.

  Tony raised an eyebrow, but Cara silenced him with a sharp look that said, Don’t you dare criticize her technique.

  Ercole made a face. “Fine. Fiorina may have this woman as a bodyguard. But I insist on additional protection. Proper protection,” he sniffed, making Cara’s hackles rise. Then he snapped his fingers at one of his men. “Get Sorinni and Julius.”

  Fiorina squeaked in protest. “But…”

  Ercole was barely paying attention, already turning away.

  Cara cleared her throat loudly. “Fiorina said someone she knows. Someone she trusts.”

  Ercole looked her up and down with a haughty look that said, Who let this nosy outsider in? Finally, he threw up his hands. “Who, then?”