by Lowe, Anna
“Good work. Now, finish her, then him.” Her voice was faint, but the message was clear.
Cara showed her teeth.
Too bad you’re not the Fire Maiden, the wolf snickered. Then you wouldn’t have to die.
Cara growled. Not going to die. You are.
The wolf and lions broke out into beastly laughter, buying her time to think. Could she dash past the wolf and run back down the stairs? Maybe try to jump to the roof of the basilica below?
Neither, her lioness insisted. We just fly away.
Cara snorted. Just and fly might work for her dragon kin, but not for her.
Of course it will, that inner voice persisted.
Sure. Right.
An image ghosted through her mind — that of the mighty lion statue in Venice. The one with wings.
Believe. You must believe, the whisper insisted.
She did believe in herself, but everyone had their limits. No matter how she wished for wings, they weren’t going to sprout out of nowhere.
The wolf shifter stepped forward, making her turn. That made her side scrape against the stone wall, and the ache in her shoulders intensified.
All right, sweetheart, the nearest lion growled. Time for you to take the elevator down.
The beast at his side snickered. The express elevator. All air.
When Cara bristled, her left shoulder rubbed against the nearest wall, making the burn even worse.
Ready to fly, sweetheart? The wolf chuckled.
God, she hated when people snickered at her. Not that it happened often. Not since that time as a kid, when she’d shared her fantasy of sprouting wings. Everyone had broken into laughter, taunting her.
Wings, like a dragon? You wish.
Back then, she’d slunk away in shame. But now, she bared her teeth, letting fury bubble to the surface.
Yeah. Fly, sweetheart. Fly! one of the lions goaded.
She bounded forward, growling.
No, you fly, you bastard.
Buoyed by a rush of anger, she bashed into the lion. It knocked into the second feline, who yelped in surprise. The sound turned into a panicked cry when the beast teetered at the window’s outer edge.
Claws scraped desperately over stone, and a split second later, the lion slipped under the guard rail. His comrades froze, and even Cara stared at the sight of his fall. Paws flailed at thin air. His mane whipped in the wind. He twisted his torso, trying to prepare for an impossible landing. Then—
Cara jerked her eyes away, but there was no hiding the sickening crunch of his impact on the flagstones below.
“You fools!” Ismerelda yelled. “I want her dead. Then I want you down here to finish off that traitor.”
Cara’s heart stuttered, because that meant Tony.
She bared her teeth, thinking hard. Arturo had told her to match each of destiny’s moves with one of her own, but her options were rapidly dwindling.
Bitch. The remaining lion stalked forward with murderous eyes.
Cara backed up, then halted, because the wolf was coming in from her right. Inch by inch, both shifters advanced, driving her toward an open window.
First, her tail swung out into the thin, cold air. Then her back paw slipped off the edge. She lurched forward, barely keeping her balance.
Fly, lioness, fly, one goaded.
Bile rose in her throat, and a ripping sensation registered on her back.
Cara winced as her great-grandmother’s voice echoed through her mind. Someday, you will fly. You will do your ancestors proud.
As a child, she’d been gullible enough to believe that, only to have her hopes dashed when it turned out she could only shift into lion form.
Anything you dream of, you can make true. That was another one of her great-grandmother’s little sayings.
Memories flickered through her mind — all those dreams she’d had of flying as a kid, plus the even more realistic ones she’d had since moving to Venice. Dreams in which she soared through the air on wide, feathery wings. It was crazy, all of it.
But somehow, not so crazy any more.
Then her thoughts flashed to her favorite statue, the indomitable lion on the water near the Piazza San Marco.
We can be just like that, her lioness insisted. Ferocious. Powerful. Winged.
She shook her head. Those wings were beautiful, but they were all wrong. Soft and feathery might work for birds, but not for a lion. To fly, she would need the broad, leathery wings of her dragon kin.
A fresh stab of pain sliced through her, making her hunch and moan.
One of the lions snorted. Sure. Try faking a problem. Either way, you die, bitch.
But she wasn’t faking. That pain was real. A rearranging of bone and flesh, like a shift gone terribly wrong.
Not wrong. Right, that inner voice said. Just give it a little more time…
Finish her, the wolf grumbled.
The lion closed in. With pleasure.
Cara reared up on her hind paws, ready to launch a final defense. As she did, something fluttered behind her.
Stupid pigeons ran through her mind as she leaped at her foe.
But the commotion behind her wasn’t caused by dozens of small birds. Huge bursts of air blasted past her ears, stirred by a pair of mighty wings. Then she lurched to the right, because her foot caught on something.
Wait. Not her foot. Something else, high and to the right.
The lion before her shrank back, its eyes wide. Madonna…
The wolf stared, just as awestruck. What the…
Cara pressed on with her attack, making the lion slam back against the bronze bell. The bell swung back, then forward, striking the beast on the head. He slumped to the floor as the bell swung over him, emitting a mighty bong.
You…you… the wolf stammered, staring at her.
Bong went the bell, swinging the other way.
Cara dropped to all fours and snarled at the wolf. Finally, the pain in her back was gone. But what the hell was that pulling sensation back there?
When she glanced over her shoulder, she nearly collapsed in surprise. Wings?
At that very moment, the wolf sprang at her. Die, you ugly bitch.
Ugly? Bitch? She sank her claws into the wolf’s shoulders as it plowed into her. What did you call me?
The wolf grimaced in pain but powered on, driving them both toward the edge.
The massive bronze bell swung the other way. Bong.
Cara kicked desperately, but her back claws couldn’t find a grip on the smooth stone. The wolf’s muzzle was mere inches from hers, its expression defiant. You will die.
No, you will, she growled.
The ugly truth was they both would, because momentum was taking them over the edge. Too late, the wolf realized its miscalculation, and its eyes went wide. By then, though, they were both tipping over the edge.
No! the wolf yelped, twisting away.
But it was no use. They were already in thin air.
The wolf kicked wildly as it plunged toward the ground. Cara plunged too, though not quite as fast.
Bong. The bell clanged from somewhere overhead.
Cara! Tony roared.
Her heart ached. God, this was it. Death.
I’m sorry, she murmured as she plummeted toward the ground.
But the wind whipped the words from her lips. She wanted to apologize to Tony. To her family. To everyone she’d ever loved and been loved by.
I wish it could be different. I would do anything to spare you such grief.
But nothing would stop her fall now, and she knew it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Cara closed her eyes, refusing to watch the ground rush closer. When a sickening thump sounded, she thought that was it. But there was no splintering of bone, no last, anguished breath. Just air wafting past her wings and a strange tug on her shoulder blades.
Wow. Was death more bearable than she’d imagined? It all seemed over before impact, as if she’d skipped the worst and was
already being guided to heaven on angel’s wings.
Then her eyes snapped open, and she stared. She wasn’t dead yet. That was the wolf lying lifeless on the ground below. She was only halfway down, still dropping through thin air, just not quite as fast.
Not angel’s wings, her lion crooned. My wings. Now, quit distracting me.
Ismerelda and her men stared upward, their jaws slack.
And hell, Cara felt the same. She was flying?
She blinked, looking around. All right, maybe her movements weren’t on par with her dragon shifter kin, who alternated mighty wingbeats and glides. Her actions were more like a hyperactive waft, like a juvenile bird who’d toppled out of a nest. Her wings fluttered awkwardly, and it took all her core strength not to spin out of balance. Her whiplike lion tail was far too thin to balance or steer with. But, hell. It was working.
Was it, though? The ground rushed at her with dizzying speed. Even if she survived, the impact would hurt.
At the last minute, she beat her wings hard. And instead of crashing, she touched the ground lightly, then bounced back. That took her a good twenty feet into the air, where she hovered briefly before dropping down for a second and third bounce. Each was a little softer than the last, and finally, she came to rest on the ground.
When she did, anger flooded her again. Those shifters wanted her and Tony dead. They wanted to control Fiorina and all of Venice.
Not if I can help it, her lion growled.
She leaped at the nearest of Ismerelda’s men, who shifted into wolf form. That set off the rest — a mix of lions and canines — and soon, everything was a blur of claws and teeth.
Ismerelda stood at a safe distance, goading her men. “Get her! I said, get her!”
When two lions teamed up against Cara, she beat her wings and hopped high out of reach. Then she touched down again, making them scatter. Whipping around in a slow circle, she growled, picturing the statue in Venice.
I am that lion. Ferocious. Mighty. Not to be messed with.
That powered her through the next few minutes. When welcome help arrived in the form of a huge, dark lion, she nearly cried out in relief.
Tony!
He was all right, thank goodness. And thankfully, at her side again.
Where he belongs, her lioness hummed. Just like we belong at his.
Then Caselli prowled up, snarling, and the fight broke out all over again.
The next minutes were dominated by flashing teeth, razor-sharp claws, and manes too thick for Cara’s fangs to penetrate. Whenever she found herself in real trouble, she took to the air in big, swooping hops.
Pretty handy, her lioness grinned, pouncing on one of her foes from above.
But when she landed a moment later, Tony roared.
Cara!
She whirled, spotting Caselli coming for her. Fast. Too fast. Normally, she would assume a defensive stance, but her wings slowed her down.
No! she screamed.
The scars across Caselli’s face twisted as he rushed at her with bared fangs.
Cara bared her teeth too, but it was no use.
God, no. She’d been so close to surviving this nightmare, but now—
A split second before Caselli reached her, Tony rushed between them, and Cara scuttled back in surprise.
Tony roared, challenging Caselli. Or rather, warning the lion he was doomed. And, hell — even Cara was terrified. Tony’s jaws were bared wide, his claws fully exposed. His whiskers were tight against his muzzle, and his tail curved in a furious pose — just like the sculpture she adored. All that power, all that emotion — all aroused by a sense of honor, duty…
And love, her lioness said.
Tony’s muscles rippled as he pounced, setting off the final fight. Cara stalked forward, intent on helping. But two wolves snarled from the right, and another wave of anger rushed through her veins. She’d had it, dammit. No more staying on defense, no more waiting for luck — or destiny — to intervene. These shifters had joined forces with the wrong side, and they would pay the price.
The more she fought, the angrier she grew, and the more coordinated her movements became. Her foes’ expressions went from murderous to grim. Their tails curled between their legs, and their movements became panicked. Soon, she was the one on the offensive, and they were the ones desperate to survive.
The sense of power was like a drug, and she roared, possessed by a force far, far greater than herself. When the wolves scattered, she was hit with the urge to give chase and punish everyone.
Whoa. She got a grip on her emotions and turned to Tony, just in time to see him finish off Caselli. It was a gruesome sight, but she couldn’t resist opening her wings wide and thundering at her remaining foes.
No one messes with me or my mate. You got that?
She roared once… Twice… By the time she sucked in a deep breath for a third roar, it dawned on her how quiet everyone had gone. Tony too.
She took a step back. Whoa. What had come over her? And, yikes. She licked her lips nervously. Why was everyone staring like that?
Fire Maiden, one of the lions whispered.
A wolf stuck its tail between its legs and backed away.
Cara looked around in alarm. Was Fiorina there? Her heart sank. Rocco was supposed to be taking her somewhere safe, not bringing her here.
But there was no sign of Fiorina. Cara peered back at her foes, confused. They all backed away, muttering to one another. When one bent and lowered its head, the others followed suit.
Cara blinked. Were they surrendering? Getting ready to play some kind of trick?
Forgive us, one begged.
We didn’t know it was you, another added.
Cara stared. Wait. Were they bowing?
Fire Maiden, another whispered in awe.
She cocked her head. Surely they could tell the difference between her and Fiorina?
“She’s not the Fire Maiden, you fools,” Ismerelda hissed from one side.
For once, Cara agreed with the woman. She was just her.
Her lioness puffed out her chest. Just me is plenty.
The thing was, Tony bowed too.
What are you doing? she whisper-hissed, hoping the others wouldn’t hear.
He glanced up, eyes wide with awe. Honoring my Fire Maiden.
And dammit, the breeze made her wings rustle, and Tony bowed deeper.
Cara’s soul sank. It was over, wasn’t it? Not just the fight, but her relationship with him. Wings were all well and good when a girl was falling out of a bell tower. But now that she was on the ground again, it was obvious what a monster she was. What lion had wings?
A Fire Maiden does, a voice whispered into her mind.
It was Tony, who slowly stood and approached. His expression was one of awe, not the disgust she feared.
She shifted from one paw to the other. What would he say? What would he do?
When he was only one step away, he paused. Then he rushed forward, ducked under her wing, and brushed along the side of her body in the feline equivalent of a hug. When he spoke into her mind, his voice cracked with concern. Are you all right?
She rubbed her neck under his, relishing the coarse texture of his mane.
I’m fine. What about you?
Rather than answering, he nuzzled her. She rubbed back, making sure to keep her wings — yikes, wings! — high enough not to get in the way.
Then — oops. One of the lions shuffled, making her break away from Tony, alarmed. Luckily, it wasn’t another attack — just a lion licking a wound.
Are you sure you’re all right? she asked Tony.
He broke into a grin. Perfect, my mate.
Then a dark shadow swept in from the south, and everyone ducked.
Dragons! one of the lions cried.
A moment later, Tony hummed in recognition. It’s Theo.
Cara exhaled as the huge black dragon circled overhead. Ismerelda’s forces backed up against a wall and stayed there, ready to surrender. Even Ism
erelda’s personal bodyguard, who’d remained in human form, stuck up his hands.
“We mean the Fire Maiden no harm. She ordered us here.” He pointed at Ismerelda, who’d been edging quietly toward her boat.
She stopped in her tracks and did her best to look dignified. “That woman is an impostor. A threat to all Venice.”
Cara stepped closer, growling, The only danger here is you.
Ismerelda ignored her, addressing her men. “She kidnapped Signorina Fellini.”
Tony prowled forward. Kidnapped?
Ismerelda went on as if repeating a lie might somehow make it true. “Kidnapped. Who knows where my poor niece is now or what danger she is in?”
Just then, a motor sounded, and everyone turned to the canal. Cara tensed all over again. Now what?
The night seemed to have no end. Her only comfort was having Theo swooping in tight circles overhead. Part of her already yearned to study his technique and maybe try for herself someday.
A pinprick of green light drew closer — the bow of a small boat. Not long after, it pulled up beside Ismerelda’s vessel, and three people disembarked. The first had the swift, powerful stride of a bodyguard. The second person was slight, and he — she? — paused to help the third person out of the boat.
Tony called out in a lion sigh of relief. Rocco!
Rocco? Cara stared into the darkness. He was supposed to be guarding—
“Fiorina!” Ismerelda cried out.
Cara’s jaw dropped. She and Tony had risked their necks in order to keep Fiorina safe. What was she doing here?
Rocco shrugged as they approached. “She insisted.” His tone was exasperated, but his eyes shone with admiration and love.
“I insisted too.” The gravelly voice of an old man carried through the night. “It’s time to put an end to this foolishness.”
Cara’s eyes went wide. Arturo?
Nonno, Tony whispered, equally surprised. Grandfather.
Arturo stomped up, one hand on his cane, the other hooked around Fiorina’s arm. Then he stopped and pointed at Ismerelda. “You.”
Ismerelda’s voice was a shocked hiss. “You.”
Cara stared. Tony’s grandfather and Ismerelda knew each other? How?
“Meddling again, I see,” Arturo muttered.