Shadow Flight

by Christine Feehan

  “I want to hear you bring them to life.” Her voice would. She had that perfect pitch and the ability to make the lyrics weep with emotion or soar with hope.

  “You really have never shared your music with your family? Not Stefano or Vittorio? Or Emme?” She knew he was particularly close to them.

  “The lyrics were too close to the truth of my life. I would never sing in front of them anyway, but if they asked me to read the lyrics to them, Stefano would know just by listening to my voice or looking at my face. He’s very in tune with all of us.” Taviano walked her out of the studio and then locked the doors.

  “Why lock them? Your family can just get in anyway.”

  “We use an invention of Ricco’s to keep anyone from sliding under a door using shadows. I’ve installed them so no one can get into my studio. They would have to break in the conventional way. I would know, and I wouldn’t be too happy. On top of that, all of us have a great deal of respect for one another and our privacy. When I’m not home, security is activated and it’s very tight. If you’re here by yourself, I would want you to have the security system on.”

  Taviano was careful not to make that an order. Nicoletta didn’t need anyone ordering her around. She was intelligent and capable of making up her own mind about security. The Ferraros were always going to be at risk. She’d been around the family long enough to know there were always threats made against them. They were highly visible. They made enemies. They carefully cultivated a certain image that made others think they were useless with far too much money, or businessmen buying and selling companies others had worked to build up.

  “I want to be able to go outside and utilize the patio and woods,” she said. “Is there a way to do that and still have the security system intact?”

  “Yes.” Taviano hesitated. He didn’t want to sound as if he was bragging. All of the Ferraros were born with various gifts. He had a knack with electronics and liked to tinker, to come up with new gadgets. He could disrupt security systems easily because he was always building new ones.

  “You invented something new, didn’t you?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Yes.” His admission was low.

  “There’s so much to learn. All of you are light-years ahead of me.” Nicoletta sighed. “I was studying night and day before we got married. You’re a bit of a distraction.”

  He laughed again when she frowned. He couldn’t help himself, he bent to brush her lips with his. The moment he felt that soft bow, his stomach did a slow roll and he locked his arm across her back, dragging her closer to him, tilting her head back so he could kiss her. That mouth. All flames. Alive with heat. With some special addictive aphrodisiac that roared through his body straight to his groin. A powerful, potent fire that invaded every cell and turned him inside out.

  She made him feel things he’d thought impossible. She brought him roaring to life in so many ways. He tightened his arms around her when he lifted his head, just holding her close to him, letting the intense emotions wash through him.

  “Am I doing the right thing taking you with us, Nicoletta? Should I keep you safe the way Stefano does Francesca? You’re the most important person in my world. I don’t want you ever to think I love you any less than he loves her, or Vittorio loves Grace, or Giovanni loves Sasha. I know every time you go into the shadows it’s a risk.”

  “Why would you ask me that, Taviano?” Nicoletta tilted her head to look up at him, a small frown on her face.

  She reached up and rubbed at his jaw, her palm cupping the side of his face. There was something so gentle and loving about the way she touched him that his heart turned over. She could just turn him inside out with such a small thing as framing his face or rubbing the pad of her finger along his jaw. He knew it was the way she touched him. He felt her love in the way she touched him. He saw it on her face.

  “I have to be in the shadows with you. I can’t explain it to you, but the compulsion is very strong. It’s a drive. A need. I’ve had it since I was very young. I used to play like a bunny, hopping in and out of the shadows. My mom would watch me and tell me I was just like her when she was little. We’d laugh together all the time.” She smiled up at him. “I’d forgotten that until just now. I’d forgotten so many things about my mother that I’m just letting myself remember. It wasn’t like I disappeared or anything. I had clothes on, but I liked to play with shadows.”

  Taviano nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “I know you want to be in the shadows, Nicoletta, but it is risky. We train for years to do the kind of work we do. You’re not ready.”

  “I know I’m not. I’m not about to get in your way. But I have to start somewhere. I was careful when I was with you before. I wouldn’t have insisted on going with you once we knew Pia and Bianca were safe at the hotel, but Clariss might have needed me. I couldn’t let her be alone if those men had raped her. That was a very real possibility. I wasn’t just insisting to be a pain.”

  “I’m well aware of that, tesoro.”

  Nicoletta wasn’t the type of woman to throw a temper tantrum to get her way. She didn’t insist she was as good as others who had trained for years at their job. She was highly intelligent and weighed each situation carefully before making decisions about the best thing to do. She tried to keep her emotions from ruling her. She was young, and that wasn’t always possible. He was hotheaded, and at times it wasn’t easy for him to push aside his own emotions and stay in control, making judgments impersonally.

  “I want to learn. The more I’m exposed to this, the faster my body and my mind learn it. I don’t know why I work that way, but I do. Each time I was in the shadows, I was sick, yes, but I could feel the difference in the way every tube worked both on my body and in the way the shadow pulled at us. Fast or slow, the way it moved us along. The corners, sharp or a steady curve. Eventually, I could anticipate them, and I couldn’t see at all.”

  He knew everything she said was true. She had been sick, but she had also been more relaxed, riding with him, her body tuned to his, moving with his in a rhythm. She had been anticipating the curves and corners. “That doesn’t mean there aren’t very real dangers always present. The shadows won’t protect you from one of our enemies spraying bullets through the room if you’re sitting in the mouth of a tube. You can’t navigate on your own yet. No one has taught you that. You’d be lost in the shadows, Nicoletta. Even if you didn’t get hit by a bullet and you managed to dive into the tube and the shadows took you, you’d never find your way out again.”

  He closed his eyes with a groan of regret. “I never should have taken you with me in the first place. Not until you knew how to get from one place to another.”

  “You mean all the maps of Chicago Mariko and Emme insisted I memorize? They drilled it into me that I had to know my way around every single city that I went to. I needed to be studying all the time. Fortunately, I have a pretty remarkable memory. I can look at something and file it away. Mariko said that wasn’t good enough and said she wanted me to study the map of Chicago, so I did. Now I know why she insisted.”

  “You think you could figure out how to maneuver through the shadows riding that fast, scared and in the dark, disoriented and possibly sick, alone, and know where you were in order to figure out where you have to go to get out?”

  She put both hands on his chest and pushed to give herself room to step back so she could look up at him, her dark eyes meeting his. “The one thing I know above anything else, Taviano, is that you do whatever it is you have to do in order to survive. I would do it. And then I’d go back, and I’d find you. If you were in trouble, I’d get to you.” There was calm conviction in her voice.

  Taviano knew she meant every word. More, he was absolutely certain she would do just what she said. She might suffer a few agonies while she figured it out, but she’d get it done and she’d go back for him. He threaded his fingers through the weave of her braid at
the nape of her neck, where it was thick and soft.

  “I did pretty well here in the house, with you following me, not helping me, Taviano,” she pointed out. “I didn’t get sick going back to the plane, and I didn’t, not once, here. I managed to find my way into each room. Granted, I was going slow, but it was me, controlling how fast I went.” There was satisfaction in her voice. Pride, even.

  “It’s no wonder I’m in love with you. The wonder is, no one else knows what a treasure you are. I wish I could have met your mother, Nicoletta. She must have been something special.”

  “She was.”

  Taviano took her hand and they walked through the house back toward the kitchen. He’d glanced at his watch to see if Stefano had texted him, but the last message had merely said that no word had come in from the New York cousins. Rigina and Rosina had their eyes on Los Angeles and Chicago, and so far, there was no real movement. Stefano suggested they relax until he gave the word to move.

  “Your parents never had any other children.” Taviano made it a statement.

  “Mom couldn’t have any more after me. She always said I was enough for her, and my father—adoptive father, but for me the only father I ever knew, and I loved him very much—said he was happy with me. He certainly made me feel that he was.”

  He waved her to a barstool so she could sit while he washed fresh berries he’d had brought in earlier for her. He mixed them up in a bowl and put them in front of her. She loved fruit. He’d also gotten dragon fruit and passion fruit, fresh mango and papaya, and cherimoyas, the last, one of his personal favorites. She loved cherries, and he had those brought in for her as well. He cut up a few mixes of the exotic fruits and laid them out for her, along with several different cheeses, honey, jam, crackers and spiced nuts.

  “You’re totally spoiling me.”

  “That’s my intention,” he admitted. He sat opposite her and nabbed one of the small plates he’d set beside the cheese plate. “Eat, woman. You always want to be well hydrated and have something in your stomach.”

  “So I can throw up all over your brother?”

  “That won’t happen this time.” He poured confidence into his voice and hoped it wouldn’t happen.

  Stefano might use her being sick as an excuse to ban Nicoletta from the shadows until he saw fit to proclaim she was fully ready. Taviano knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from practicing on her own. She had been telling the truth when she said it was a compulsion now, a need. It was for all shadow riders when they reached a certain point in their training. That was when they were usually sent out of the country to be trained with other families. That was the point when it was known to their parents and trainers that they were true riders.

  He knew Nicoletta was a true shadow rider. He just hoped Stefano saw it as well. She had no experience and little training, but she had the instincts, and her body was strangely adapting faster than he had ever seen or heard of a rider adapting. He knew the Archambault family was different. No one ever spoke of why they were different, but they were the ones policing the riders for a reason. Elie was crazy fast in the shadows. He had amazing reflexes. Sometimes he was so fast, his hands or feet appeared a blur when he fought. All of the Ferraros preferred training with him. Working with anyone that good improved their speed as well. Nicoletta had Archambault blood running in her veins.

  “I hope you’re right,” Nicoletta said. “I don’t want Stefano to ban me from practicing. I don’t intend to be a liability to you in any way, Taviano. I know I can learn. Mariko and Emmanuelle are assets to you. You said yourself that there are way too few riders.”

  He nodded. “Unfortunately, that’s true. We’re stretched pretty thin. So few children. That’s part of the reason Eloisa and the older riders are so upset with our generation of riders. They want us to be old-school in our thinking and accept arranged marriages, produce children and train them immediately. I can understand that way of thinking, but it’s difficult to agree with them.”

  “You’re thinking of Emmanuelle.”

  He nodded and added honey and jam to his cheese. “She’s in love with Valentino Saldi. The problem with a Ferraro falling in love is they only do it once if it’s the real thing. Emme has indicated to Stefano she’s willing to accept an arranged marriage. I don’t want that for her. Neither does Stefano. As head of our family, he has to make that happen.”

  Nicoletta took several pieces of the fruit. Taviano noted which were her favorites. She was definitely fond of the dragon fruit. She did eat some of the cheese and honey, but far more of the fruit.

  “Is Val really that bad? Could you talk to him?”

  “I’d like to beat him to a bloody pulp,” Taviano said, meaning it. Just the thought of the hell the man had put his sister through stirred the rage in him. “When she was just sixteen, he seduced her. It wasn’t right. It was deliberate. His father ordered him to seduce her so that he could get information on our family from her. All along he was seeing other women. She caught him, and even heard him telling another woman who had confronted him about his relationship with Emmanuelle that he had no feelings for her whatsoever. It broke her heart.”

  Nicoletta looked up from where she’d been choosing a spiced nut, her dark eyes suddenly blazing. “Are you kidding me? And none of you have beaten the crap out of him?”

  “Vittorio did,” Taviano said. “Although not nearly as badly as he deserved. It’s saying something that Emmanuelle didn’t try to stop him, either. Normally, she would have been the first to defend Val. She hasn’t spoken to him in two years. She’s refused, and I know Val’s tried to contact her several times. She’s left the country a few times, and I think it was because he was pushing pretty hard to see her. I think she’s afraid to hear whatever he has to say, even if it’s an apology.”

  Nicoletta nodded. “I can understand that. Women forgive men they love way too easily. It’s a failing most of us share.”

  He sent her a quick grin. “It’s a trait you all need to have because men tend to screw up a lot. I’ll need you to have that particular characteristic running deep, tesoro.”

  “I think it will have to be the other way around, Taviano.” She sampled the passion fruit and then more of the dragon fruit. “This is so good.”

  “I had it brought in this morning for you.”

  She went very still. “You didn’t.”

  “Of course, I did. I know you love fruit.” He studied her face. She was just that little bit too still. “What’s wrong, piccola?”

  “You. You’re so thoughtful. You really do love me. I don’t know what to do with that. With you. All this time . . .” She trailed off. Nicoletta pressed her lips together and then her lashes swept up so her gaze met his. “You’re the most amazing man. I realize I’m very lucky.”

  He couldn’t help smiling. “You just remember that when I screw up big-time, or Eloisa makes you crazy. Or Stefano does. And we all will.”

  Her smile was slow in coming, but when it did, it lit up her face and reached her eyes. His gut settled. She had him tied up in knots, and he hadn’t even realized it. He didn’t like her upset.

  “Tell me about your cousins in New York. Emmanuelle and Francesca were talking about them a few weeks back when I was over playing with Crispino. I met Salvatore briefly, or I should say, I saw him. He was just leaving Stefano’s when I arrived. He looked very intimidating. And sad. I don’t know why I thought he was sad, but I did.”

  “Salvatore, like Emmanuelle, has resigned himself to an arranged marriage. So many women throw themselves at men like us and they resort to all kinds of underhanded schemes to try to trick us into marriage. He wanted to find a woman to love him for who he is, not because he’s wealthy, or a rider. That just doesn’t happen so easily when you’re a Ferraro and your picture is splashed across the world in every magazine there is.”

  “Your family doesn’t exactly keep a low
profile.”

  “That’s true, but we do that for a good reason,” he pointed out.

  Nicoletta nodded. “Well, I felt bad for him. What’s he like?”

  “He’s a really good man. Tough. Responsible. He’s always the one who volunteers to take extra shifts even if that means going overseas. I like Salvatore. I always have.”

  “He has two brothers?”

  “Lucca and Geno. Geno is the oldest. He’s quite a bit like Stefano. Maybe a little rougher around the edges. He isn’t a man you’d want to cross. He’s loyal to the family and watches over his brothers. I know he’s been worried about Salvatore for some time. I guess all of us have been. Salvatore is extremely good-looking, and the women go after him. He’s gotten the most tricks played on him and I think that’s taken a big toll. Geno is too tough for women to try to play him. They’re smart enough to be afraid of him. Lucca appears to be the definitive playboy. He’s a player and the women go after him, but they don’t expect to win, and they don’t.”

  “I find that so sad,” Nicoletta said. “I’m glad I don’t have money. It just seems to make everything a mess.”

  Taviano burst out laughing. “Honey, sometimes you’re priceless. You do realize you’re a Ferraro. You’re married to Taviano Ferraro.”

  She nodded and took another bite of cheese with olallieberry jam on it. “Yes, of course, I know who I married. It’s your money and your family’s money, not mine.”

  He leaned across the short distance between them and brushed his mouth over hers, his tongue licking along her bottom lip, where a trace of jam lingered. “I love you so much, woman. It’s our money and our family, so that money is yours as well.”

  She actually went pale. “We’re not going to discuss this. I can’t talk about it with you. Stefano will make more sense than you, and if he doesn’t, I’ll talk to the family lawyer. He’ll have sense enough to protect you. We’re going to draw up some kind of paper.”

  “Amore mio, on this one thing, you’re not going to win, so don’t bother fighting me on it. You know how stubborn I can be. Finish your fruit.”