by Lowe, Anna
Ismerelda turned her venomous eyes on Cara. Then she shrugged as if she couldn’t care less and motioned the men away.
“Gentlemen, if you please. We ladies need to chat.”
Rocco bristled at Ismerelda, then slowly backed off. Tony did too, standing a short distance away with one eye on Ismerelda and another on the shifter guards. Neither of them made a move, but their shoulders tensed.
Fiorina took a seat. Cara perched on the very edge of her chair so she could leap into action if necessary.
But, yikes. Was she just paranoid? That was Fiorina’s aunt, for goodness’ sake.
“Really, Fiorina.” Ismerelda jutted her chin toward Cara. “Some things are only for family to hear.”
To Cara’s surprise, Fiorina’s reply came out in a low growl — or as close to a growl as the dear girl ever came. “Cara is family.”
Cara’s heart swelled, but Ismerelda rolled her eyes. “Can’t you see? She wants to control you.”
It took everything Cara had not to protest. All she wanted was for Fiorina to think for herself — and to get back to the job she loved.
Fiorina touched her aunt’s arm and smiled warmly. “You’re so kind to look out for me. But—”
“Oh hush, child,” Ismerelda snapped. “You know so little of the world. There will always be people who will try to control you.”
Cara barely held back from blurting, Like you?
The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. At the Guardians’ palace, Ismerelda had stuck by Fiorina’s side in every meeting and every appointment, prompting Fiorina on what she should say, do, and even eat. Cara had dismissed it all as the actions of an overbearing relative who meant well. But now, she wasn’t so sure.
“As a Fire Maiden…” Ismerelda went on.
Fiorina shook her head. “I’m not even a real Fire Maiden.”
Ismerelda shushed her and looked around as if someone might have overheard. “You are the nearest living relative. That makes you a Fire Maiden. You have to embrace who you are.”
“That still doesn’t make me a Fire Maiden. Maybe you were wrong about me coming to Venice.”
Cara froze. Whoa. Wait.
“I thought your mother wanted you to come to Venice,” she cut into the conversation.
Fiorina shook her head. “Mother never wanted to come back. But Zia said the Guardians needed me. She said it was time to carry on my father’s legacy.”
Ismerelda nodded heartily. “Exactly. You cannot shirk your duty.” Then she glared at Cara. “But as I warned, there will be those who wish to take advantage of your position — and your gullibility. My dear, you do your best, but you are hardly ready to wield your power.”
Cara narrowed her eyes at Ismerelda. If Fiorina wasn’t ready — and Lord knew the poor girl wasn’t — then why had Ismerelda brought her out of hiding?
“Did the Guardians say they needed Fiorina, or was it your idea?”
Ismerelda snorted. “Of course, they need her. And she needs me to guide her. Now, listen to me…” She turned to Fiorina.
Cara half tuned out as Ismerelda ranted about everything she’d done for Fiorina.
Done for Fiorina, or for herself? Cara’s inner lion grumbled.
She looked over at Tony, but he was scanning their surroundings. Suddenly, he stiffened, staring at a point out of Cara’s view.
Her stomach lurched. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.
She gulped and threw together a quick plan. She would stand, take Fiorina’s elbow, and march her the hell away from here.
But, shit. Rocco let out a low growl, looking in the opposite direction. More trouble?
Cara steeled her nerves. Fine. She would lead Fiorina to the graceful little bridge over the canal, just a few steps away. Rocco and Tony could close ranks behind them, and then—
Ismerelda thumped the table, cutting off Fiorina midsentence.
“No, no, no. This woman is not family, and you cannot trust her.” She stood, motioning for the nearest guard. “It’s time to put an end to this nonsense. Believe me, it’s for your own good.”
Cara jumped to her feet too, but Fiorina stared at them both, confused. “What’s for my own good?”
The men positioned at either end of the cafe stepped closer and…shit. Four more appeared behind them. One was a grizzled warrior with three parallel scars across his face. The moment Tony spotted him, he froze, and they stared at each other.
You, Tony’s glare said.
You, the man’s murderous expression replied.
That was as much as Cara noticed before snapping her attention back to Ismerelda. What was going on?
Ismerelda pointed her men to Cara. “Take her away. Oh, and them too.” She gestured toward Rocco and Tony, then grabbed Fiorina’s hand. “You stay with me, darling.”
Cara put her arm under Ismerelda’s and jerked upward, using an elementary move to break the woman’s hold on Fiorina.
Ismerelda’s eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare.” Then she softened her voice and looked at Fiorina. “Don’t worry, darling. You can trust me. It’s this woman who’s ruining everything.”
“Ruining what?” Fiorina blinked.
Ruining her plan to increase her own power, Cara wanted to say. That had to be the explanation. She didn’t understand the details, but that much was clear. Without Fiorina, Ismeralda was a nobody. But being aunt to a Fire Maiden — even a close-enough Fire Maiden — gave Ismerelda privileges she would never earn on her own.
But there was no time to talk and barely enough time to think, what with those men muscling in. Two each rushed Tony and Rocco, while the other two hurried toward Fiorina.
Ismerelda snatched up her wineglass and edged back. “Now, now. Don’t hurt my precious niece. That one, on the other hand…” She stabbed a finger at Cara.
Cara didn’t hear the rest. She was too busy getting ready — one foot back, hands up, eyes searching for makeshift weapons. The chair. The wine bottle on the table. The cutlery…
“Fiorina!” Rocco roared as a man grabbed her, pinning her arms at her sides.
“Just this way, miss…” the man said, dragging her backward.
Cara kept her focus on the man rushing toward her. When he was two steps away, she spun, gathering momentum. Then she lashed out her foot, nailing him in the groin.
When he moaned and dropped, she smashed a chair over his back. Then she grabbed the wine bottle and turned to the man holding Fiorina.
But, whoa. Fiorina was already moving, fast as lightning. Cara stared as the girl executed exactly the jerk-jab-stomp move they’d been practicing.
“Take that,” Fiorina squeaked, kicking the man away. Then she stared. “Oh gosh. Did I hurt you?”
Cara grabbed her hand and ran for the bridge. “He was trying to hurt you. Let’s go.”
“But…why? I mean…” Fiorina stammered, staring at her aunt.
Cara couldn’t believe it either. Why would Fiorina’s own relative set up an ambush?
She pulled Fiorina along. They’d figure that out — later.
“Stop!” Ismerelda roared.
Like hell, she would. Cara barreled toward Rocco, who shoved one of his attackers into the canal. The second grabbed for Rocco’s neck, but Cara shattered the bottle over his head. When the man collapsed to the ground, motionless, Rocco blinked at her.
“Oh. Grazie.”
“Prego.” You’re welcome. Cara shoved Fiorina into his arms. “Go. Go!”
She turned to check on Tony, who had pushed back his two attackers. One of them backed away quickly, but the scarred one stood, staring Tony down. For a moment, neither of them moved.
“Tony,” she urged, desperate to get away, and fast.
Footsteps sounded along the street, and several more men appeared.
“What are you waiting for?” Ismerelda screeched at the reinforcements. “Get them!”
Cara wanted to yell the same thing to Tony. What are you waiting for? He was
still motionless, staring at the scarred foe.
“Tony!” she yelled, making it an order that time.
Tony jolted, glared at the man one more time, then finally ran over. Cara grabbed his hand just in case he decided to hang back and try to stop all those guards alone. Together, they followed Rocco and Fiorina toward the restaurant’s service entrance. There, a stack of pallets formed a bottleneck in a narrow alley.
Cara shoved at the pallets, blocking the way. Tony helped, then beckoned her onward.
“Good enough to delay them. Let’s go,” he said just as the reinforcements came barreling into view.
Cara raced down the alley, then ducked under a line of laundry hung across a little piazza. A moment after pushing an orange bedsheet away from her face, Cara hurdled over a pile of bricks and pivoted around a wheelbarrow, blindly following Tony.
Blindly following… Funny how the notion didn’t bother her any more.
Rocco and Fiorina waited at the intersection ahead, while Cara raced up with Tony.
“What are you doing?” Tony demanded.
“Waiting for you,” Fiorina chirped.
Rocco looked exasperated. “She insisted.”
Cara smiled. Fiorina sure had come a long way.
“Not leaving without you,” Fiorina declared.
“Not sure any of us has a choice,” Tony growled, looking around.
“Should we head to the boat?”
Tony hustled them down the side street. “Too far.” He looked back, thinking.
Cara motioned at Fiorina’s pink scarf. “Quick, take that off. It makes you too easy to follow.”
Tony nodded, then stopped short, staring. “Easy to follow…”
Cara stopped too. What was he thinking?
Somewhere in the distance, a man shouted.
Rocco waved. “We have to go.”
Tony didn’t make a move, though, other than reaching for Fiorina’s scarf. “New plan. Can I have this? And your shawl…” He all but yanked it off Fiorina’s shoulders, then thrust it at Cara. “Good. Now give me your jacket,” he ordered Rocco.
Within seconds, Cara and Fiorina had swapped their outer layers. The men did the same, exchanging Tony’s dark-green jacket for Rocco’s mustard-colored one.
“Allora. Here’s the plan.” Tony pointed at Rocco and Fiorina. “You two head to the church. The third confessional on the right opens into the sacristy.”
Rocco blinked. “How can you be sure?”
Tony made a face. “I was an altar boy as a kid.”
In any other circumstance, Cara would have quipped, Now that, I’d love to see.
But this was life or death, and Tony made a chopping motion with his hands. “Hide there until you hear from me. Worst case, you use the side door to the garden and escape. Got it?”
Fiorina’s eyes went wide. “What will you do?”
Tony gave Cara a hard look, then forced a grin. “We’ll make it easy for them to follow.”
Cara touched the scarf and shawl she’d pulled on. Yikes. Somehow, she’d gone from ecologist to bodyguard to decoy. Destiny really was messing with her.
But for the first time ever, warning bells weren’t clanging in her soul. If anything, she felt a sense of certainty. A woman on a mission, even if she wasn’t sure where that mission would lead.
“Ready?” Tony looked deep into her eyes.
Not just ready to play decoy, she realized. Ready to trust him — and maybe even trust in a game of chess with destiny.
She took a deep breath, then nodded. “Ready.”
Chapter Nineteen
Tony grinned at Cara’s firm nod. Of course I’m ready, her blazing eyes declared.
His inner lion sighed. God, what he would give to have her at his side — forever.
“Where to?” she asked as Rocco and Fiorina hurried toward the church.
Tony forced his mind back into soldier mode and backtracked to the last intersection. “We need to make sure they take the bait.”
Footsteps sounded at the end of the alley. The moment Ismerelda’s men sprinted into sight, Tony propelled Cara forward. “Now!”
The men behind them shouted, and he gritted his teeth. Now he had two people to protect — Fiorina and Cara. And he would protect them with his life.
He took up position behind Cara, making sure all that showed was Fiorina’s bright scarf.
“Right, then left,” he grunted as they came upon a wider street.
That brought them to a canal, where Cara took the stairs of the bridge three at a time.
An old man coming the other way shook his head and muttered something about young people and taking time to enjoy life.
And right there and then, Tony vowed to do just that. For years, he’d been on the go. Fighting. Enduring. Making do. It was time to settle down and smell the roses.
With my mate, his lion growled.
His heart skipped a beat. If she would have him, yes. Please.
But the only way to reach that point was to get through this, so he rushed on.
“Turn right,” he called.
Cara led the way, dashing along the length of the canal. Sea gulls cawed, and the scent of salt air intensified. They were nearly at the north edge of the island. His mind spun. What, then?
“Look!” Cara pointed when they hit the coast and turned left.
Two Jet Skis bobbed beside a quayside cafe — one painted bumblebee yellow-and-black, the other neon green. The very craft that had set off the false alarm and ruined his morning.
Tony grinned. Maybe he’d be grateful to the idiots who drove them after all. Especially for leaving the keys in the ignition.
Cara ran over and knelt, untying the lines. When Tony jumped on the green one, a man in the cafe shot to his feet. “Hey! Wait!”
“Sorry! Emergency!” Cara hopped on and wrapped her arms around Tony’s waist. With a sharp kick, she shoved them away from the shoreline.
Tony gunned the engine. Behind them, Ismerelda’s men ran up, shouting. The Jet Ski owners shouted, too. When three different men made a move for the remaining Jet Ski, it floated away from the dock. Immediately, a tussle broke out as emotions ran high.
All the better, Tony figured, as he and Cara made their escape.
Then again, escape wasn’t the plan — not yet. They had to lure the men away to keep Rocco and Fiorina safe.
“What are you doing?” Cara asked when he throttled down a short time later.
“Making sure they follow. Then we’ll head for Venice.”
Cara’s chin tapped his shoulder in a nod, and his heart skipped a beat.
For a moment, they drifted in plain sight of the men on land.
“Who is that guy?” Cara asked.
He didn’t have to ask who she meant. He knew who it had to be.
“Caselli.”
“Who?”
“Caselli. The man I fought on the stairs Fiorina’s house, years ago. One of Tiberio’s men.”
A slow-motion memory played through his mind — how he’d reached out during that fight, done a partial shift — enough to expose his lion claws — and slashed at the man tasked with killing Fiorina’s family. Caselli had stumbled back, then come back at him with murder in his eyes.
Cara froze. “The one who got away?”
Tony nodded slowly. He’d fought Caselli on the stairs, then left him for dead in his rush to help Fiorina and her family escape. But on his way back up the stairs, Caselli had been gone, and as far as Tony knew, the man had never been heard from again.
Well, he’s back now, his lion growled.
He gritted his teeth. Yes, Caselli was back — and working for Ismerelda now.
What if he’s been working for Ismerelda all along? his lion mused.
He burned to motor back, beat the truth out of Caselli, and finish the bastard off. But that wouldn’t help — not now. Instead, he steered the Jet Ski forward at an angle calculated to hide Cara’s face.
“Don’t let him see you
. We need him to think you’re Fiorina.”
Cara pressed her cheek against his back. When she spoke, her voice was muffled. “Promise me you’ll explain when we have the chance.”
“I promise.”
That wasn’t all he wanted to promise, but it was hardly the time for declarations of love. He ground his teeth. Another reason to hate Caselli.
But it was hard to hate anyone with Cara there, awakening the better angels of his soul. He motored along slowly, relishing the tight hold of her arms around his waist. Releasing the throttle briefly, he covered her hand with his. There was so much he wanted to say but no time to utter a word.
Cara tucked her chin over his shoulder, and there it was again — that feeling of completion. That rush of hope, and that vision of a beautiful future.
So much passed between them in that moment, and there was so much he wished he could say.
If things were different…
But they weren’t. He had to live with what he had, and that was that.
Then an engine roared to life in the distance, and they both spun.
“I think it’s safe to say they’re following us,” Cara muttered, watching Ismerelda’s men pile into a sleek race boat.
Tony gunned the engine then cursed.
Cara’s arms tightened around his waist. “What?”
He pointed to the instrument panel. “Nearly out of fuel.”
There was no way they would make it back to Venice on that. He doubted they would even make it around Burano and into the open lagoon.
“They’re coming,” Cara warned.
Tony turned the throttle, but it was clear the motorboat would overtake them soon. He glanced around, searching for options. Heading back to Burano was out of the question, as was heading to his grandfather’s place. Several small islands surrounded Burano, all of them low and marshy. But beyond them, a proud, slender tower stood tall.
“Torcello,” Cara breathed.
Tony turned their little craft that way. “Torcello.”
Sparsely inhabited and largely overgrown, that island had been home to one of the earliest settlements in the lagoon. Now, there were fewer than two dozen residents, most clustered around the thirteenth-century basilica and the surrounding orchards.