Shadow Flight

by Christine Feehan

  She shook her head slightly but didn’t respond to Stefano’s indictment.

  Taviano’s hand tightened around hers. He brought her knuckles up to his mouth to press a kiss there because she was still trembling, and he wanted to reassure her that no matter her choice, he was with her.

  “I know that most riders work alone, Stefano,” Nicoletta said. “Even if I get to the point where I’m good enough to go out by myself, I would prefer to work in partnership with Taviano. Is that ever done?”

  Eloisa rolled her eyes. “Seriously? What’s the point of teaching you, then? Or having the kind of genetics you have? Does Mariko need her husband to hold her hand when she goes out? She holds her own, the same as Velia or Emmanuelle. Female riders are every bit as good as male riders. It’s ridiculous to think that you would need a man to be with you once you know what you’re doing.” There was a sneer to her voice.

  Taviano opened his mouth to defend Nicoletta, but she got there before him.

  “I’m sorry, Eloisa, but you must have misunderstood me. I didn’t say I needed Taviano to hold my hand, although . . .” She turned her head to smile adoringly up at him, brought their joined hands up and kissed his fingers. “I do love holding his hand. I said I preferred to work in partnership with Taviano. I am not certain what part of that you don’t understand. My preference for working with my husband? I believe I was asking a question about whether a team was ever sent out or whether it was always a lone rider.”

  She turned back to Stefano, all wide-eyed innocence, which Taviano knew was the epitome of total bullshit. It was all he could do to keep from smiling. His woman was giving no quarter. No matter what, she wasn’t going to like his mother, not after what he had revealed to her about the way Eloisa had reacted to his childhood assault.

  “Is there something wrong with asking questions, Stefano? I’m not yet familiar with protocol so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m making blunders.”

  “No, of course not, Nicoletta. Often, in the past, riders went out in pairs. That ensured the safety of the riders, but we are too few at this point and we need the riders in the rotations to give one another breaks. Having said that, it doesn’t mean we won’t accommodate the preferences of riders. Taviano stated the same thing. If both of you feel strongly, I have to take that into consideration. All of us have instincts and it would be wrong of me to ignore your instincts, especially if both of you are feeling them.”

  Eloisa shook her head, pressed her lips together and clenched her fists, as if that were the only way she could keep her opinions to herself.

  “This brings us to another matter that could very well affect every shadow rider, not just those of us in this room,” Stefano went on. “When we were first learning to go into the shadows, all of us suffered headaches and nosebleeds. Some severe, and some less so. The symptoms lessened as we grew accustomed to being in the shadows, and we could stay in for longer periods of time. Eventually, even the longer, faster shadows rarely bothered us.”

  Taviano frowned, watching his older brother carefully. Stefano was definitely worried. He saw his older brother’s gaze flick to Severino. His cousin knew whatever it was that Stefano did and he was equally worried.

  “Eloisa has been having severe headaches and nosebleeds for several years. Unbeknownst to us, when we were children, she was sent out over and over even days after giving birth because, according to her parents—the heads of the family and riders at that time—she didn’t need the rest and there were no other riders available to go. The headaches and bleeding became worse and more severe. She began experiencing blackouts. Or at least times when she couldn’t stop herself from acting in ways that she might not normally behave.”

  There was sudden silence in the room. Taviano felt his heart thud hard in his chest. He didn’t want to look at his mother, but he couldn’t help it. Eloisa had her head down, not looking at anyone in the room. She was a proud woman, and he couldn’t imagine how she felt with all of them staring at her, suddenly aware of very private medical information. He had no idea how Stefano had gotten her to agree to allow him to share that data with everyone.

  “Over the last few years, the headaches and bleeds have grown worse. Even after she stopped officially riding in rotations, she was still using the shadows to move from one place to another. Those bleeds seemed to compound, and the headaches were so severe she would sometimes go blind. When she confessed this to me, I asked that she go to the Hendrick Center and have Dr. Elliot do an MRI on her brain to look for trauma. We have to know if going into the shadows can cause the rider brain damage.”

  Giovanni reached out to touch his mother’s shoulder, a rare gesture for any of them. “Eloisa,” he said softly. “You could have shared this with me.”

  She shook her head, but to Taviano’s astonishment, she didn’t pull away from Giovanni as she normally would have. She didn’t like sympathy or a show of compassion from anyone ever, not even when her husband died. He thought perhaps it was because Sasha’s brother had such severe brain injuries.

  “Unfortunately, Eloisa’s scan did show she is suffering from fairly severe brain injuries,” Stefano announced in that same matter-of-fact voice that he used as if speaking about the weather.

  Taviano closed his eyes and pushed his head back against the couch. He had allowed Nicoletta over and over into the shadows. She had headaches. She had nosebleeds. He had thought them a natural part of learning. “Tesoro,” he whispered. Aching inside.

  “Don’t, Taviano,” Nicoletta said immediately.

  “I know that sounds bad for all of us, but before we all panic, we need more information. Eloisa came forward, and she has ideas that I think will help us to better figure this situation out and let us know what to do and where we can go from here. This is a good time for us to take a step back from our work, since law enforcement may suddenly be taking a hard look our way once again,” Stefano continued. “Eloisa thought this might be a great time to organize a worldwide fund-raiser for traumatic brain injuries. The Ferraros could lead the fund-raiser by getting scans of our brains to use for comparison with those that have been injured in accidents. At least, that will be the excuse we use. Every member of the Ferraro family will participate. Our New York cousins as well as our Los Angeles cousins. I’ll talk to the council and they’ll have the members of the other families get scans as well.”

  Stefano got to his feet and poured himself a glass of sparkling water, looking around the room to see if anyone else wanted their glass filled. No one took him up on the offer. Taviano thought they were all too stunned to move or really think. He knew he was. The idea that doing what they’d been born to do was harming them seemed ludicrous.

  “I don’t think anyone should panic yet,” Stefano said, leaning one hip against the bar. “I haven’t had a headache in years, nor have I gotten a nosebleed. I think, if I were having a problem, I would have had signs. Nevertheless, I will be going in to get an MRI immediately. I think it’s necessary for all of us to do so. In fact, for my family it will be considered mandatory, or there will be no putting you into the roster. Anyone wanting to be pulled from the roster, of course, just make that request and it’s done. Having said that, if you do get a headache or a nosebleed, no matter how minor, I want to know about it.”

  Severino looked around the room at his siblings. “I want to know the same. We’re all participating as well. Eloisa had a terrific idea not only to raise money for a worthy cause but as a great cover for all of us to use to get scans. The doctors aren’t going to question why we’re going in when we’re volunteering to allow our scans—anonymously, of course—to be used in comparison to those who have had trauma.”

  “And if trauma is discovered? What is the explanation?” Ricco asked.

  “For you and your idiot brothers,” Stefano said, “driving race cars and the accidents you were in. I imagine Severino can say the same. Geno and every other family
member are going to have reasons because you’re all adrenaline junkies.”

  “I think the idea of a fund-raiser is brilliant, Eloisa,” Emmanuelle said. “No one would ever think twice about it. The Ferraro family does them all the time.”

  Giovanni nodded. “And Sasha’s brother has a brain injury. Thanks to the fuckin’ paparazzi, always paying everyone for photographs and any private information they can get, the world knows about him. We’ve donated money to the hospital and to his care facility several times for equipment and buildings. This will just be on a much larger scale.”

  “Grace and Katie Branscomb are excellent at planning details, and they can handle something this large,” Eloisa said. “I’m well aware they’re working on wedding details for Taviano and Nicoletta, but they can do both. They work on several events at the same time as a rule. I think they can manage easily. I can check with Katie and see if she can find a location for an event of this size,” Eloisa said.

  Taviano was a little shocked to hear the excitement in his mother’s voice. Few things seemed to ever bring her to life. He brushed the pad of his thumb back and forth over the back of Nicoletta’s hand.

  “We can forgo a formal wedding,” Nicoletta said, a little too hopefully for Taviano’s liking. “We did get married in Vegas.”

  “You’re a Ferraro,” Eloisa snapped, before Stefano could say anything. “To the people who live here, that means something, and you have a duty to them.”

  “Eloisa,” Stefano cautioned. He smiled at Nicoletta, but his dark eyes were very serious. “The wedding is already being planned, Nicoletta, and as much as you’d like to get out of it, just like the rest of us, you’re going to have to see it through.”

  The others laughed. Even Taviano. He wished he could get over the feeling that at any moment the room might explode from the tension between Nicoletta and Eloisa. He couldn’t blame Nicoletta. She knew one of Eloisa’s darkest secrets, and brain injury or not, there was no excuse for sending her son out four years before he was supposed to go, to a family he wasn’t supposed to go to, because she didn’t want to bother with him and all because Stefano was not available to parent. She’d used the excuse of sending him to the family in Italy because they were friends, but then, when he should have returned home, she didn’t want him back and she’d sent him on to the only place available.

  Taviano broke out into a sweat. He had to stop thinking about it. His mind seemed to be in chaos. Suddenly he couldn’t understand what the voices in the room were saying. They were loud, and then receded. Back and forth. Ringing through his ears, reverberating through his head. His heart pounded. His chest hurt, the pressure building until he pressed his hand hard there, fearing he was having a heart attack. His lungs felt raw, desperate for air, but he couldn’t draw a single breath.

  He thought he heard Nicoletta’s soft voice and Stefano’s deeper one. Someone bent over him and he started to fight that shadowy figure, self-preservation taking control.

  Nicoletta knew exactly what was happening to Taviano because it had happened to her a thousand times. She had no idea what had triggered a flashback, but he was suffering from post-traumatic stress, and clearly, none of his family had ever seen him have an event. He was violent, impossible to get near.

  “Get everyone out of here, Stefano,” Nicoletta ordered, taking charge. Taviano was her husband, and she had his back.

  “Call a doctor,” Eloisa snapped. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Nicoletta. You don’t have a clue what’s wrong with him.”

  “I know exactly what’s wrong, and so do you. Get out of here. Everyone needs to get out of here, especially you,” Nicoletta snapped back. “I mean it, Stefano, get them out.”

  Eloisa went white. Stefano turned his dark, speculative gaze from his mother to Nicoletta and then to his brother, who was on the floor, sweat beading on his skin as he clutched his chest. He looked as if he was having a heart attack. Eloisa backed up as if afraid of Nicoletta.

  “Everyone please leave,” Stefano said calmly. He gestured toward Taviano. “Nicoletta, tell me what to do.”

  “Get me a cool washcloth and some water.” She knelt beside her husband but didn’t touch him. “Baby. Can you hear my voice? Listen to me. To the sound of my voice. I’m right here with you. Taviano, it’s Nicoletta, and I’m right here.” She took the cloth from Stefano. “I’m going to just put this cloth on your head.”

  She did so fearlessly, uncaring if he struck her. For a moment he caught at her wrist, fingers biting deep into her flesh, his gaze bouncing all over the place, but he didn’t hit her.

  “That’s it, baby. Just take a breath. Breathe with me. Like we do when we’re together. At night, all those nights when you came to my room and I was panicking just like this. You put a cloth on my head, and you helped me to breathe. You said I was safe. You’re safe. No one can touch you. You’re here with me. I won’t ever let anyone touch you. You’re always safe with me, just the way I know I’m safe with you.”

  Beside her, she felt Stefano freeze. Every muscle in his body. The room temperature seemed to go down several degrees. She didn’t take her eyes from Taviano, afraid to look away from him. Afraid of losing him to a nightmare world. She’d been lost in that world so many times and he had been the one to help her find her way out. She had to do the same for him.

  “Baby, look at me. Don’t look inward. Just look at me. See me. Breathe with me. I’m real.” She took a chance and placed her hand gently on his shoulder, waited a heartbeat to see if he recognized her touch enough to let her slide her hand down to his. “I love you, Taviano. I know you’re somewhere else right now, but come back to me. That’s not a good place for you to be. Breathe with me.” She used the words he had sometimes used with her.

  His long lashes fluttered. Those eyes of his, so intensely blue, so dark, looked at her, lost beyond imagining, haunted beyond description. Behind her, Stefano made a sound so agonized it tore at her heart. He saw what was in those eyes. The eyes of a lost child, a little boy so bewildered and tormented, so hopeless and hurt and completely alone.

  Nicoletta didn’t realize she was weeping until she saw tears falling on Taviano’s shirt. She dashed at her face. “Come on, honey. Look at me. See me.”

  The lashes fluttered again. Taviano looked confused. His breathing changed. He drew in one long, shuddering breath. Nicoletta immediately moved the washcloth over his face. “That’s right. You’re good. I’ve got you.”

  He sat up and pulled her into him all in one motion, dragging her in so fast and hard he smashed her into his chest, driving all the air out of her lungs and just holding her. Her lungs burned, and for a few moments she thought she couldn’t breathe, but she managed to turn her head enough to find a way to draw in air, and that was all that mattered. They clung to each other.

  “Dio, tesoro, what the hell happened?”

  “It’s okay. You had a flashback. You’re okay. No one got hurt. You’re okay.” She kept murmuring reassurances over and over to him, remembering how disoriented she’d been at times when she’d found herself in his arms in the middle of the night in Lucia and Amo’s house, tight against his chest, sobbing.

  “What the hell,” he muttered against her neck. “That hasn’t happened in years.”

  He rocked her. Or she rocked him. She didn’t know which one of them needed more comfort at that point. Taviano had always been her rock, her anchor, and it had really thrown her that he had unexpectedly and without warning gone into a flashback. She knew that when he fully realized the event had happened in front of his siblings and cousins he was going to be very upset, but the worst was still waiting for them, sitting directly behind them on the floor.

  She still hadn’t looked at Stefano. Other than that one agonized sound, much like a wounded animal, the head of the Ferraro family hadn’t so much as stirred.

  It was some time before Taviano
loosened his grip on Nicoletta and looked around him. “I don’t even know what triggered that, it hasn’t happened to me in years. One minute I was sitting there and the next, I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was having a heart attack.”

  “You scared everyone,” Nicoletta said.

  “Everyone?” he echoed. Then it hit him where they were and that they’d been in a meeting with his siblings and cousins.

  He gripped her arms hard and looked around the room. She knew the exact moment when he saw Stefano sitting on the floor just a few feet from them. Taviano went very still. She turned to face the oldest Ferraro brother as well. Stefano looked as destroyed as she felt. He had his head down, his fingers pressed into the corners of his eyes. Before either of them could speak, Stefano came to his feet in a swift, graceful movement. He reached down and offered Nicoletta his hand without really looking at her face.

  “I have to get out of here. Let’s go for a walk.”

  Nicoletta took his hand without hesitation, her heart going out to him. She could feel Stefano’s distress. It was overwhelming and very genuine. Anger. Sorrow. He reached for Taviano’s hand and pulled him up as well and then turned away from both of them toward the elevator, already texting those in the other room to let them know they were leaving and that Taviano was all right.

  Nicoletta and Taviano followed Stefano onto the elevator. She couldn’t think of a word to say to break the uncomfortable silence, so she just stood as close to Taviano as possible to offer him comfort. She knew he had never wanted this—his brother to know what had happened to him. It was obvious that he knew—or at least guessed what it was that had triggered Taviano’s flashback. They walked straight through the lobby of the Ferraro Hotel out into the coolness of the night and turned toward the businesses that made up a portion of the Ferraro territory.

  “They sent you away while I was gone for training. I wasn’t here to stop them.” Stefano made it a statement.