Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS

by Christine Feehan

  “Keep Celt with you.” It came out a command. Byron buried enough of a compulsion in his voice that Antonietta didn’t hesitate, even though she frowned. Antonietta was clearly used to going her own way and making her own decisions, and very few people attempted to tell her what to do.

  “Toni!” Tasha said sharply.

  Antonietta touched fingertips with Byron, the merest brush, signaling camaraderie. She knew very well that Tasha, in spite of her truce, was displaying her disapproval. She’s temperamental.

  She is mental.

  Antonietta burst out laughing. Tasha glared at Byron, suspecting the two of whispering together, or worse, of being amused by her jealousy. She reached out to grab her cousin’s wrist with every intention of yanking her out of the room. Somehow the dog was there, inserting its body almost casually. The dark eyes looked quite innocent.

  “I feel like kicking you,” Tasha said, closing the door to Antonietta’s bedroom with a louder than necessary thud. She hoped she shut it on Byron’s nose.

  “Why would you want to kick me?” Antonietta asked as she followed Tasha into the wide hall.

  “Not you, the idiot dog and that man you are climbing all over. What kind of a display is that, Toni? You have a certain position to uphold. You shouldn’t be making a fool of yourself over a man.”

  The whip of contempt in Tasha’s voice made Antonietta wince. “I was in my own private quarters, so I don’t see how I could have been making too much of a fool of myself.”

  “You’re acting like a lovesick teenager. It’s embarrassing. And that dog is annoying. He’s too big and gets in the way all the time. Why would you want a dog underfoot? I don’t know what Byron was thinking giving him to you. If Marita finds out he’s dangerous, there will be hell to pay.”

  “Why would you think he’s dangerous?” Antonietta allowed her exasperation to show. “You may not like Byron, Tasha, and that’s okay with me, but don’t you make trouble for Celt just out of spite.”

  “I’m never spiteful.” Tasha’s feet beat out a rhythm of annoyance. “Five minutes with a man, and you’re turning on your own family. I hope you realize you’re totally infatuated. It’s sickening to watch you make an utter fool of yourself, but by all means, don’t listen to my advice.”

  “I haven’t heard any advice,” Antonietta said, “just sour grapes.”

  Unexpectedly, Tasha laughed. “That’s so true. I’m so jealous I could tear out that man’s eyes. I want to be involved in a love affair. In a drama. In something. Someone tries to murder you, Paul even shoots you. You spend an entire day in mourning. It was so perfect, the palazzo silent and all of us caught up in your grief. And then I come up to find a man in your bedroom and you positively glowing. It’s enough to make me throw myself from the battlements in absolute envy. Well,” she hedged, “the lower balcony.”

  “He’s so wonderful,” Antonietta said. She found it easy to walk with Celt beside her, his body posture guiding her far better than even Justine had managed.

  “I’m sure you think so. He still frightens me, Toni, and I don’t know why. Paul said he saved your life at the risk of his own, yet I’m still afraid of him. There’s something about him that isn’t right.”

  “Everything about him is right for me.” Antonietta went down the long, sweeping staircase with total confidence. Sometimes she felt Celt shared his eyes with her. She saw nothing, yet she knew exactly where to step as if he were guiding her through imaging in her mind.

  Tasha placed a hand on Antonietta’s arm to stop her before she turned toward Don Giovanni’s rooms. “Why was Paul in the passageway? And why would he have a gun? Did he tell you?”

  “He owes money to some dangerous people. He said he purchased the gun for protection. And he was in the passageway to steal the Scarletti treasures and pawn them to pay his debts.”

  Tasha shook her head sadly. “I thought he quit gambling. He promised us. He didn’t tell me he needed money. Did he go to you? Or Don Giovanni? Why would he make a decision to steal from the family?” She sank down abruptly on the bottom stairs. “I’m sorry, Toni. I didn’t know. I thought he would come to me if he were in trouble. I’m so ashamed.”

  Antonietta heard her weeping softly. She laid a comforting hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “You aren’t responsible for Paul, Tasha. He’s a grown man, and he makes his own decisions. He’ll have to face up to this. He nearly killed both Byron and me. Hopefully, he’ll think about that and get help before it’s too late.”

  Tasha lifted her head, swiping at the tears, careful of her makeup. “You have to tell Nonno the truth.”

  Antonietta sighed. “I suppose so, but I’m not looking forward to it.” Where are you? She needed comfort. A battle with her grandfather over Paul’s fate was more than she wanted to deal with. She had a mad desire to dash back up the stairs and lock herself in her bedroom, keeping Byron a prisoner there.

  I am raiding your kitchen, looking for clues. I think my detective skills need work.

  Antonietta wrapped his laughter around her like an invisible shield.

  I like the idea of being your prisoner, by the way. Especially if the door were locked, and your family stayed away for a very long while. There are traces of the same substance I found in you, your grandfather, and Paul in the remains of the food in the rubbish.

  Antonietta’s smile faded. If she believed Byron, someone in her own home was trying to kill all three of them. There’s no mistake? You’re certain?

  Cara mia, I would never alarm you without cause. He sent her waves of warmth and reassurance. Go to your grandfather. He is distressed and needs to sleep. You can talk to him about Paul later.

  “I’m going in to Nonno, Tasha. Would you like to come with me?”

  “I think I’ll just sit here awhile and feel very sorry for myself, and then we can meet in Margurite’s room. I promised her I’d sleep in her room tonight.”

  “You hate that, Tasha. You’ve always hated not being in your own bed at night. Margurite is old enough to sleep in her room alone.”

  “I know she is. She just looks so fragile. The house has so many noises, and with the break-in and all the commotion of you being shot, she’s afraid. It won’t hurt me to stay in her room one night.”

  “Unless Marita catches you,” Antonietta warned.

  Tasha made a rude noise. “The day I can’t handle Marita is the day I deny being a Scarletti.”

  “Give me a few minutes with Grandfather, and I’ll meet you.” Antonietta stood beside her cousin while the silence of the palazzo pressed in on them. “While you’re thinking about things, please do decide you’re going to make an effort with Byron. He’s going to stay.”

  Tasha sucked in her breath sharply. “Surely you wouldn’t contemplate marriage? Permanency? He’s a toy. A plaything. You know he could never be more to you. There’s too much involved.”

  “You mean money.”

  “Not just the money.” She waved her hands to encompass the palazzo. “All of it. All of us.”

  Antonietta didn’t answer. She sensed Byron’s stillness. The waiting. “I so appreciate your understanding, Cousin.” She wouldn’t give either of them the satisfaction. She went in to comfort her grandfather. It was easy enough when she knew Byron was waiting to share the rest of the long night with her.

  10

  Byron woke deep beneath the ground with the sound of Antonietta’s voice calling to him. With the sound of her music summoning him. He lay there in his bed of rich soil, listening to the rhythm of his heart matching the beat of hers, of her music. The earth around him hummed with life, the sounds of insects and the trickle of water, all adding to the melody she was creating just for him.

  Why won’t you answer me?

  His heart leapt at the little catch in her voice. I am here with you.

  Here is not where you were when I went to sleep. You left me alone. I woke up and you were gone. It did not occur to me you would have sex with me and get up and leave.

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nbsp; He lay in the warm arms of the earth, listening to the nuances of her voice, paying particular attention to the shadows lurking in her mind. Peace swept over him. Antonietta was bound to him. Belonged with him. She had ideas that didn’t quite match his own, but the ties between them were already formed and pulling tighter with each connection. It was fortunate she awakened as he did. By binding them, her discomfort level, if unable to reach him, would have soared.

  His teeth gleamed white at the little bite in her voice. Sex? You may have had sex with me, but I was making love to you with every breath in my body. You are the one who wants no emotion between us. He stretched, knowing she would feel his leisurely, tranquil movement. I told you separation could be difficult. Are you feeling the effects?

  There was a small silence. Difficult? I didn’t use that word. I didn’t even think it. You can choose to sleep anywhere you like. Antonietta sounded regal, haughty, very much a Scarletti. And humming with anger.

  Byron’s smile widened. The soil fell away from him, allowing him to float free, clean his body, and dress in immaculate clothing. You are very accepting of our differences. Grazie, Antonietta, for your understanding.

  Again he felt her pull back, a silent withdrawal while she attempted to regroup. What differences? You didn’t mention differences when we went to bed last night. I’ve slept the day away and thought I’d wake up with you beside me. I hoped I’d wake up with you beside me. Do you grow horns in your sleep? Is that why you left, so I wouldn’t see that you are not human?

  It was that tiny spurt of humor that melted his heart. I have never looked, but the possibilities are endless.

  You aren’t married, are you?

  Ouch. What a thing to ask me. I am your lifemate. I cannot be with another woman. I am afraid you are permanently stuck with me. Horns and all. He reached for her in his mind, holding her to him. I would much prefer to wake with you in my arms. I can bring you to my home this evening, and you can share my bed here.

  She sensed a hidden trap. He could feel her moving through his mind, touching his thoughts. It took her a few moments before she realized what she was doing and how easy it was. She grew even quieter, withdrawing farther from him.

  Well? He prompted her, mocking male amusement brushing at her teasingly.

  You’re so charming, I guess I can’t resist you. Deliberately she sighed. I should, but I don’t think I can. I prefer to sleep in my own bed and have you here with me. Take your time coming up with a good reason for slinking off like a hound dog in the middle of the night, or day, or whenever you left. But make it good and somewhat believable.

  Byron laughed. He began to move, floating upward, finding the chimney and slowly, without effort, drifting steadily toward the night sky. You want to stay in your own home where you feel you have the power. Do not think I do not understand that is what you are doing.

  Antonietta gasped. You’re flying. I feel it with you. You’re flying through the air, aren’t you? I want to do that.

  I am floating, gliding really. It is a pleasant sensation. Not nearly as pleasant as sharing your bed.

  Pretty words aren’t going to get you out of trouble.

  Sure they are. He was openly laughing, happy.

  Are you on your way back to me? If so, you can take me flying tonight for your punishment for leaving me all alone in this great big bed.

  You are still lying in those silk sheets without a stitch on. The thought of her warm and soft and waiting there for him left him breathless. Just that she would want him with her. Just that she was thinking of him. Do you, Antonietta? Do you think of me? Dream of me?

  Always. I have since the moment you came into our lives.

  You humble me. I will be there soon.

  Byron shot into the sky, wings spreading wide as he took the form of an owl and circled over the sea, enjoying the way the moon spilled light on the choppy surface. He needed to feed. He was not completely healed, as he couldn’t afford to spend time in the healing earth when Antonietta was in danger. Even with Celt guarding her, Byron was uneasy separated from her.

  She didn’t have a clue what he was or what he intended. He was now used to the strange barriers in her mind and could easily maneuver around them. Antonietta wanted him, even accepted him, but she didn’t think in terms of a future. Not ever. It didn’t enter into her realm of possibilities.

  Spotting prey, Byron circled lower, a silent drop, eyes fixed on his quarry. As he settled to earth and reached for the man staring up at him with such shock, he smiled. Antonietta had a few surprises in store for her. Someone needed to shake up her tidy little world.

  He drank deeply, allowing the rush to hit him, allowed himself the feel, just for a moment, of absolute power. It would be easy to give in to the whispers calling to him if it weren’t for her presence. Antonietta would call him back as she had unknowingly with her music in the past. He wasn’t as near to the edge as most of the hunters. Byron rarely had to kill, yet the pull to feel absolute power was strong, even with knowing right from wrong.

  You’re feeling very sad.

  Her voice startled him. He nearly dropped his prey. Antonietta sounded so close to him. So concerned. Quite gently, he closed the small, telltale pinpricks and eased the man to the ground.

  A few moments ago you were so happy. What’s wrong, Byron? I can come to you if you can’t get here. Tell me where to meet you.

  Her voice, soft with concern, turned him inside out. I am coming to you. I was just thinking of my kinsmen, some sadly lost to us.

  Hurry. I’m waiting to see you.

  He took to the sky again, moving quickly toward the Scarletti palazzo. The rounded turrets drilled through the wisps of fog and clouds, a massive castle of stone and secrets. A ripple of awareness touched him. Another of his kind shared the skies with him. Female. Familiar. The owl came winging out from around the tower and rushed him, feathers nearly iridescent. Eleanor! His sister, gone from him many years.

  Byron dropped down into the middle of the maze, signaling to his sister to do the same. He caught her in his arms, even as she shimmered into substance, dragging her close and burying his face against her neck. “How is that you have come to this place? I cannot believe that you are here, Eleanor. Let me look at you.” He held her at arm’s length, then pulled her close again. “I have not seen you for so long.”

  Eleanor hugged him back hard. “It has been too long, brother. You look so good, so strong and fit. I was so frightened for you. We were still too many miles away from you when we felt you go down. I collapsed. Poor Vlad had to attend me. I wanted him to leave me and go to you, but he said he would not make it before the sun rose. I am so grateful another of our kind was close. I did not recognize him when you showed us your mind. Who was he?”

  “I will admit I was grateful also. He was an ancient, with powerful healing blood. Dominic of the Dragonseekers.”

  Eleanor drew back from him. “A Dragonseeker?” Her hand went to her throat in a purely defensive gesture. “I have not heard that name said in a long, long while. It brings back the memory of the ancient wars.”

  “That is all a fairy tale, Eleanor,” Byron pointed out. “Much like the human stories of werewolves and vampires. No one has it right. They make it up as they go along. Maybe one or two people really saw a werewolf or a vampire, and they allowed their imagination to take flight, and the result is the silly stories they have now. I think much the same thing happened with our people and the stories of the wizards.”

  “I wish it were true, Byron, but the wizards were very real. Our races were close at one time, worked together for the good of the planet. The wizards were powerful and great seers. They studied magic and the things of the earth, much as we did. Many of our safeguards for protection came through their knowledge. Many of our people studied with them. Unfortunately, power can corrupt.” She smoothed back her brother’s hair. Touched his chest to assure herself he was alive and well. “I do not recall that Dominic had much to do with the wizards
, but his sister did. She was incredibly talented….” Eleanor’s voice trailed off, and she stepped back to study him with her dark eyes. “You look fit, completely healed, and it is a miracle. You look quite different. More powerful maybe, yet happy.”

  “I have found her, Eleanor. At long last, I have found my life mate. She is here, at this palazzo, the concert pianist, Antonietta Scarletti. She is an amazing woman.”

  Eleanor flung her arms around her brother’s neck again. “I am so happy for you. You must introduce us. Have you claimed her? Have you told our prince? When are you taking her home?”

  There was a small silence while Byron hugged Eleanor a second time, grateful he could feel the flood of love for her. Grateful he could look at her and feel. Antonietta had given him that gift. A priceless gift of emotions and vivid colors.

  “Byron?” Eleanor looked at him with all-too-knowing eyes. “You have not converted her.” She made it a statement, almost an accusation. “We need every woman. You know we need women desperately. And you have suffered for so long. Surely your life mate wants to be with you.”

  Byron smiled, a wolfish smile, more a baring of his teeth. “She has the strange idea that we will spend time together, and then she will send me on my way.”

  Eleanor studied his face. Her brother had an edge to him that had not been there before. “What are you up to?”

  “Antonietta has to find her own way to me. She has lived a certain life, ruler in the palazzo, her family dependent on her. She also is safe there. It matters little in the palazzo that she is blind. Her life is set on a path, and she intends to follow it. She does not yet realize that her path is intertwined with mine. But she will.”

  “How long will you wait?”

  “For what? Antonietta is bound to me. She is in my care. I have made provisions for her safety, and I will find who threatens her. She is mine, in heart and soul. She just needs to come to terms with who she will be when she embraces her choice.”

  “Of course you will return with her to our homeland.” Eleanor made it a statement.