Mated to the Capo (Mafia Wolf Shifters) (Encantado Shifters Book 1)

by Georgette St. Clair

  “Is that how you see things?” Dominic replied crisply.

  She gestured around her at the piles of stinking trash heaped around overflowing garbage cans up and down the street. “That’s how it is, Dominic.”

  His brow creased. “That’s not how Arturo runs things, and it will not happen again. I’m going to personally visit each of our neighborhood liaisons and let them know if they ever try to pull what Jordan did, they’ll find out the true meaning of the word ‘pain.’”

  “None of this would have happened if things ran like they did outside of the portal cities,” she said with an accusing scowl. “What gives you the right to collect protection money in the first place? We pay taxes and have to pay you too?”

  He raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Do the police give you protection, Zoey?”

  She winced. “Well, not always, but in fairness, the police force can’t really handle magical threats all by themselves, even with their mage and shifter divisions. They’re overwhelmed. Their departments are, I think, ninety percent human, according to what I read in The Encantado Telegraph. Entire neighborhoods are no-go zones. There’s only so much they can do.”

  “Exactly. We provide a service. We charge people for that service. If you visit any other neighborhood in our territory, you’ll see we keep the promises we make. What we charge is like a tax. Unlike the government agencies, though, we have the magical mojo to back it up.” He stared into her eyes, his gaze holding hers captive. The intensity in his voice made her feel like he really, really cared what she thought.

  “If you say so.” Zoey flicked another glance at the garbage and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. Down the block, she saw Danielle watching her from behind a telephone pole.

  She waved her hand at Danielle to let her know everything was okay. Danielle gave her a puzzled look, glancing from Dominic to her, and then turned and headed back to their apartment.

  “You’ll see I’m telling the truth when the garbage is gone tomorrow,” Romano said. “I was going to take you out to dinner, but I understand you probably don’t have much of an appetite now. I’ll walk you home instead.”

  “Would there be any point in arguing?”

  He grinned at her. “Please do. I find it so entertaining.”

  She shot him a sidelong look of defiance. “I greatly look forward to being walked home by you. Thank you so much for that chivalrous gesture.”

  “Spoilsport.” He flashed her a charming grin.

  Before she could stop herself, Zoey replied with a smile. She quickly rearranged her facial features into an indifferent mask, but it was too late—he looked entirely too smug and self-satisfied.

  They walked back to her apartment without another word. Halfway there, he slid his arm around her shoulders, and it felt natural to Zoey. He was so big and warm, and she found herself letting him pull her up against him so her hip pressed against his thigh. As they walked, they fell into a rhythm somehow, his stride matching hers even though he was easily a foot taller than her.

  Warmth rolled over her, along with a pulsing arousal.

  Is he proportionally big all over?

  She choked down a mortified laugh at the thought, and he gave her a bemused glance but didn’t say anything.

  They paused in front of the doorway to her apartment building. The protection wards glowed, and the door clicked open.

  Romano stood half a block away from them, pretending not to watch. She thought Dominic would insist on coming in, but instead, he slid a finger under her chin and tipped her head back to give her a soft, feather-light kiss that sent a jolt of desire rushing through her.

  Zoey swallowed a moan of frustration and hurried into her apartment when he walked away. She was dying to ask him why he wasn’t just grabbing her and dragging her home with him if he was so sure she was meant to be his. But she didn’t because she was afraid he might take her up on it. And she was even more afraid she wouldn’t have the strength to say no.

  Chapter Ten

  I n District 17, there was rarely such a thing as a good surprise.

  Surprises usually were quickly followed by large crowds of people running and screaming, the sounds of explosions, and the odor of things catching on fire.

  That’s why Zoey wasn’t thrilled to see a note slipped under her door.

  I’ve got a surprise for you! Come to 133rd Street and Sierra Avenue today at noon.

  It was signed “Your Mate,” with a pawprint inked next to the words.

  She pondered the note for a good half hour, but finally, curiosity got the best of her. Zoey tried to wake up Danielle, but she flat-out refused because she had worked the overnight shift. Andrea was on deadline making a logo for a witch’s coven, Stewart was nowhere to be found, and Lorenzo was in a mood, so Zoey went by herself.

  What could possibly be worth seeing at a vacant lot the size of a city block?

  But it was no longer vacant.

  There was a giant canvas tent in the middle of the lot, with a curious crowd milling outside. As Zoey made her way through the crowd, she saw a sign on the front of the tent: “District 17 Community Garden, Grand Opening Tomorrow.”

  She walked up to the tent flap, and it was jerked aside. Dominic loomed over her, casting a long shadow in the bright sunshine. He wore a navy-blue suit, making her feel very underdressed in her t-shirt and distressed denim jeans.

  He looked extremely pleased with himself as he stepped aside and gestured at her to enter.

  There were some cries of “How come she gets to go in and we don’t?” from the crowd. Dominic quickly silenced them with a rumbling growl and yanked the tent flap shut behind him.

  Inside was a small miracle.

  Raised garden beds in galvanized steel bins, easily a hundred of them, were lined up in neat rows. They were filled with rich, dark, fragrant earth. A dozen compost bins were installed along the right side of the tent. Water pipes snaked along the ground and climbed the garden beds.

  There were even picnic tables with benches and umbrellas scattered throughout the lot.

  "This is amazing," Zoey said in wonder as she strode past the raised beds with Dominic at her side.

  She trailed her finger along the edge of one of the beds. The earth quivered, and she faintly sensed the seedlings underneath. “We can pull together lists of volunteers to water and weed the plants, and I can find some more garden witches to hang out here with me a few times a week so the plants will be nice and healthy. We can get the homeless kids involved, maybe give each of them their own garden bed to tend so they feel invested …” She stopped and looked at Dominic and flashed him a huge, grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  Dominic bowed at the waist. "It’s not half bad, if I do say so myself," he said with transparently false modesty. "This is the Moretti Pack's way of making up for the garbage issue.”

  He gestured at one of the picnic tables at the far end of the garden, and Zoey realized there was a large wicker picnic basket on the table.

  "You're in luck," she said.

  The picnic basket was filled with sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, luscious ripe apples and pears and grapes, potato salad, and bottles of lemonade.

  There were two china plates already set out for them, along with napkins and silverware. He’d thought of everything.

  He sat across from her, smiling. She bit into a sandwich and nodded in appreciation.

  "Kalinda made this, didn't she?”

  “Yeah, I figured she’d know what you’d like. How could you tell?”

  Zoey finished chewing, almost groaning in pleasure. “I recognize the dressing. She puts something special in it. She won't tell me what it is though.”

  "I could make her talk," Dominic said, and then he saw her appalled look. "Kidding?"

  "Were you?”

  "Mostly." He looked disgruntled. "I mean, of course, I'm capable of making anyone talk, but I would never do such a thing. For a sandwich recipe. If it was your friend." He smiled at her. “She
asked how you were doing and said she hoped I was treating you well. I swear it sounded like there was a hint of a threat there. She’s got some brass ones.”

  Zoey nearly choked on her sandwich as she laughed at the mental image he’d just conjured up. “I’ve been in changing rooms with her, and I’m fairly sure she does not possess what you just described. But yes, she is very protective of the girls who work for her. In her own special, stressed-out, taking-the-weight-of-the-world-on-her-shoulders way.”

  When she finished her sandwich, Zoey reached for a slice of cake.

  “So? You approve?” Dominic reached for his third sandwich. Damn, that wolf’s metabolism didn’t quit.

  “I more than approve. I love.” She wondered if she could get away with asking for a community center with a basketball court but decided not to push her luck. For now.

  "If you like this, wait until you see the pack compound."

  He was provoking her now, implying she was going to actually be visiting the pack compound any time soon, but she wasn't going to take the bait.

  “I’m sure it’s amazing.” Zoey smiled politely as she reached for a bottle of lemonade.

  “You’ll love it.”

  He just couldn’t let it go, could he?

  After they finished eating, Dominic quickly put their plates and empty bottles back into the picnic basket and stood.

  “I want to show you something.” He walked over to the raised bed nearest the picnic table. There were rows of tiny little leaflets poking through the rich, dark loam. "That was nothing but dirt when we sat down. You see what you’ve done? That is an amazing talent, and I don’t think you appreciate how truly special you are. You nurture life.”

  "That's a nice way to look at it." Zoey sighed. "Honestly, it’s hard to feel anything but resentment for my talent. It’s strong enough to get me banished from my home, but not strong enough to be actually worth anything. I’m like a Level 2 on a good day."

  "Your power is probably stronger than you know," Dominic said. "It's common for magic bloods to suppress their power if they grew up outside the portal cities. It’s a survival instinct. But if you’re trained to embrace your power, it has the potential to strengthen and expand.” He gestured at her. "Come over here, and let's try something."

  "Are you going to get fresh with me?"

  His roguish grin was irresistible. "God, I hope so."

  She walked over next to him and stood right up against the raised bed.

  Dominic moved until he was almost touching her. She leaned into him, drawn by his musky scent and the heat that pumped from his body.

  “Put your hands in the dirt and close your eyes." She gave him a suspicious look. "I promise not to try anything. At least not while your eyes are closed.”

  Zoey shoved her hands into the earth and immediately felt energy vibrating up through her fingers. She found herself instinctively clamping shut, tensing up, the way she had her entire life. Since she was young, she’d known she was cursed with the faintest trace of magic, but for the longest time, she had let herself believe if she ignored it, it would wither and die.

  But Dominic was right. There was beauty in earth magic and helping things grow. Maybe it wasn’t entirely a curse.

  She closed her eyes, and her muscles went rigid.

  "Your whole body is tensing. Just relax. Let the power of the earth flow through you."

  She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "How do you know this stuff?"

  "Because I've lived here for a long time, and because training for magic-bloods is similar to training for wolves that have just turned. Born wolves don't need training, but made wolves do. We have to get comfortable with our animal, we have to get in touch with it so we don't suppress it, and also so we don't let it burst out at inappropriate moments."

  He fell silent. She stood there and willed herself to relax.

  Loosen up, stupid muscles! Chill out, brain!

  Not working.

  "Telling myself to relax just makes me feel more tense. I'm sorry. I'm really not very good at this."

  "Then don't try so hard. Think of something else. Picture something you love."

  Zoey felt an odd tension in Dominic’s body when he said that, even though they weren’t touching. She sensed it on a deep, painful level.

  “Did you lose something you loved, Dominic?” she asked softly.

  “Someone. A long time ago. It’s one reason I am so protective of you.” She could hear the distant sadness in his voice. “And one reason I’m such an ass a lot of the time.”

  “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

  “I’m not ready yet.” The gruffness was back in his voice.

  At least he’d said “yet.” Maybe someday he’d be willing to share a little more of himself.

  She leaned into him and relaxed.

  Zoey pictured her mother's face, her father, and her younger brothers and sister. She imagined them at a day on the beach, the sun beaming down on them, the gentle swishing sound of the ocean.

  Her mother was watching her siblings like a hawk and shrieking at them when they paddled out too far. Her father was cooking on their portable grill and sneaking glances at his wife and kids when they thought he wasn’t looking because he was supposed to be the chill one.

  Gradually, Zoey’s muscles started to relax. Then she felt the power of the earth flowing through her, and a surge of energy rushed up to her feet and out through her fingertips. She didn't have to open her eyes to know the plants in the bin were growing. She could feel the cells dividing and leaves unfurling. Waves of power rushed through her, and she started to feel dizzy. She clamped down on her power and shut it off, like turning a spigot.

  She swayed where she stood, and Dominic had his arms around her waist, gently supporting her.

  She looked down. All of the tomato plants in the bed, dozens of them, had grown several inches. She had never grown so many plants so quickly.

  "Whoa. You did amazing." He guided her over to a bench, and she sank down, knees giving out. He sat next to her, silently resting his hand on her knee. It took a few minutes before the dizziness passed, but she didn't feel drained—she felt calm.

  She looked him in the eye. There really was more to him than she had ever given him credit for.

  "I want to get to know you," she blurted out. “I won’t mate with a stranger.”

  He nodded. "All right, I'll make you a deal. For every kiss you give me, I will let you ask me one question."

  Uh oh. Danger, danger.

  When it came to Dominic, Zoey had certain self-control issues.

  But he had information she needed, and this was the only way she would get it. And his lips were so soft, and so close …

  She leaned in and brushed her lips against his. He gently cupped her chin with one hand and tangled his other hand in her hair, and she parted her lips. She could still faintly taste the sweet, tart lemonade from the picnic.

  His tongue swirled around hers in a slow, sensual dance. She moved a little closer tilted her head back. Somehow, she was pressed up against him, her breasts nestling into his hard, muscled chest.

  He’d removed his hand from her hair and wrapped his arm around her waist, crushing her into him. When had that happened? Overhead, she heard birds chirping, a chorus of music just for them. Far off in the distance, she heard the squawk of the phoenix.

  Dominic stroked her face gently, and she savored his sweet taste and the feeling of the muscles bunching in his arm. Good God, if he kissed like that, what else could he do that mouth? An image flashed through Zoey’s mind of her sprawled out on her bed, with him between her legs, his tongue swirling and teasing and …

  A honking car horn jerked her back to reality, and she pulled away.

  "Good Lord, did you get a PhD in kissing? Or is there a love potion in your Chapstick?" She was breathless.

  "No, I didn't get a PhD in kissing, you just inspire me. And there is nothing in my Chapstick. Because I don�
�t use it."

  She shook her head, trying to clear it. “Wow.”

  His face was so close to hers, giving her a chance to study it intimately. It was really unfair for any man to be that handsome. He had a few little scars, which was not surprising given he was a shifter and worked in a profession where he got in a lot of fights. But the scars just enhanced his rugged good looks.

  "Okay so my question is—"

  "Hold on.” Dominic held up his hand in a “stop” gesture. “You actually just asked two questions. You asked if I had a PhD in kissing, and if I put something in my chapstick. Technically, you owe me another kiss, but I’m a generous guy so I’ll allow two for the price of one."

  "What?" Zoey shoved back from him on the bench, sliding as far away as she could get without falling off. "You are such a cheater!"

  He smirked. "How did I cheat?"

  "Well, you ... But I ... If you don't stop looking so smug, I'm going to pop you one. That's how."

  Dominic shook his head. "You have many wonderful qualities, Zoey, but I would suggest you don’t go to law school because your debate skills leave something to be desired." He leaned back in his seat, holding his muscular arms open wide. "The offer is still open. A kiss for a question."

  She took a deep breath. Okay, she could do this. She was stronger than her libido. She’d show him this time. One kiss, ten seconds tops, and then she’d pull away and ask him her question.

  Zoey moved close to him, and he circled his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. He still tasted so good, and his lips were pillow soft. She started counting down in her head, but then she lost track of the numbers and got confused. What came after five again? More kissing, that’s what.

  This time, she lifted her hands and stroked his face, enjoying the rasp of his stubble under her fingers.

  He devoured her mouth with increasing fervor. She slid her hands along his broad chest and began undoing his top button. God, what an amazing body he must have. She wanted to run her hands over every inch of it, to kiss it, to taste …

  Oh hell, it was happening again!

  She pulled away from him and leaped to her feet with a shriek of frustration.