Shadow Keeper

by Christine Feehan

The ring was a work of art, just as everything Damian made was. On Sasha's finger, it looked beautiful, as if made just for her--which, technically, it had been. He should have cautioned his cousin to smear superglue on the inside of it.

  "She really is working?" Emme asked.

  He pulled out a chair for her. "Stubborn as all get-out," he responded and seated himself beside her so they could talk above the pounding music. "Even Stefano talked to her and got nowhere. He'd pull out his hair if Sasha was his woman."

  "She'll need to be stubborn if she's going to really marry you," Emme stated. She grinned at him, obviously happy for him. "Stefano and Francesca really like her. That's saying a lot." She glanced over to the table of men a few feet from the stairs. "I see you have bodyguards everywhere."

  "Let's hope she isn't as adept at spotting them as you are. I've got two tables on this tier and one on the one below us. Four roving patrols and more scattered throughout the club. We did go over the rules, and she knows how to signal for security. She did ask that they wait for the signal."

  Emme rolled her eyes. "Does she know you yet?"

  "She does. She laid down the law to me. When I smiled at her she shook her head and stomped away."

  That made Emmanuelle laugh. "Do you really think this stalker is going to come tonight?"

  "Don't you?" Giovanni took a long, slow look around the club. "He's here. Where else would he be? He can't get to her anywhere else. He wants contact with her and he'll make it, too. I'm betting on it."

  "Look who else showed up tonight," Emmanuelle said and gestured to the large party moving up the stairs to the VIP section.

  Giovanni clenched his teeth to keep from swearing aloud. Aaron Anderson. The man was a walking menace. Women fell all over him, he was that good-looking. He was charming as well. He always had an entourage with him and this time was no different. He recognized several of the men moving up the stairs. As usual, they were all mixed martial arts fighters, and good ones. Aaron was friends with most of the fighters.

  "You wouldn't consider sacrificing yourself and flirting your little ass off, would you?" he asked his sister. "He's always had a thing for you."

  "He has not."

  "Emmanuelle, every man has a thing for you. You just don't see it. Or you choose not to. At least with everyone but Val Saldi." He glanced at Stefano and lowered his voice even more, turning his head so there was no chance that his brother could pick up what they were saying. "If you care to share what happened between you two, I'm a good listener. I know he matters to you. If he matters to you, he matters to me. He did come through for our family."

  Emmanuelle's mask slipped, just for a minute, and he glimpsed pain there. "It's always been him. You know that. Since I was sixteen years old. I thought I'd outgrow it, but apparently, that's not going to happen." She sighed. "He isn't exactly pining away for me the way I am for him. In any case, we both know it would never work between our two families so there's no point in talking about it."

  "Of course there is. If you're hurting ..." He wanted to wrap his sister up and hold her close to him. He detested that she was in pain. He knew it wasn't Val's fault, but he still would like to punch him.

  "I'm good. I'm just working through accepting it. As long as I don't have to see him with other women or read about it somewhere, I'll be good."

  He touched her face gently. "You know I'm really sorry, bella. If I could fix it for you, I would." He'd do anything for her. Any of her brothers would--including Stefano. Especially Stefano.

  She turned to watch Aaron seat himself two tables away, in Sasha's section. "He is good-looking. Maybe I'll ask him to dance."

  Now that she said it, perversely, Giovanni wasn't too certain he wanted his sister to have anything to do with the man. He liked Aaron and didn't want Emme breaking his heart--which she would. She was beautiful, intelligent and sweet. It would be impossible not to fall in love with her, but Emmanuelle, like the rest of them, had a duty to their family. She had to marry a rider--or a man capable of producing children who could be riders.

  "Eloisa is pushing me to meet some of the riders from other countries." Emmanuelle made a face. "I think she wants to hold a ball. Like I'm some kind of prize." A little shiver of revulsion crept through her body. "I suppose it doesn't really matter, does it? It's not as if Prince Charming is going to show up and rescue me from the evil dragon."

  "It happened for me. Not Prince Charming, but definitely the Princess." Giovanni's gaze sought out his woman. She was smiling and nodding as she served drinks to the table farthest away from the Ferraro table. Her smile faded when she put down drinks at the next one. She shook her head twice and stepped back as she collected her tip.

  Drago and Demetrio made as if to stand and then settled back in their seats as Sasha moved away from the table and went to the bodyguards' table. She took their orders with that same smile plastered on her face--the one he knew didn't mean a thing. She was going to Aaron's table next, and he found his belly tightening.

  "She can't run away. Half the room is guarding her."

  His sister's soft laughter made him aware he was also clenching his fists. He didn't like that he could be jealous and possessive. Sasha was a woman of her word. There was no mistaking that. Those traits he had, and they were far stronger than he'd like, were not attractive ones in his opinion. He was even slightly ashamed of them. Aaron was his friend and would respect the engagement ring on her finger. There was a code of honor between men. That ring was the line one didn't cross. He wasn't going to embarrass Sasha or himself by being jealous.

  He made himself join in his sister's laughter. Sasha looked up, and his heart nearly stopped and then accelerated when her eyes met his. Her face went soft when she looked at him. He didn't deserve that look on her face, like he was something special, her white knight. Still, he wanted her to look at him like that for the rest of their lives. He was glad he'd overcome such a petty reaction as jealousy. He put his hand over his heart and to his shock, she reciprocated.

  Two hours went by, Stefano occasionally dancing with Francesca. Ricco spent a great deal of time dancing with Mariko. Emmanuelle mostly danced with her cousins, and refused invitations politely when other males asked her to dance. Giovanni decided he needed to keep a better eye on his sister. She seemed sad, too sad for a woman of her age. They had duties and it weighed heavily on them, but he didn't think forcing Emmanuelle to carry them out if she wasn't happy was right.

  Sasha worked the top tier where the family could better protect her. Like the VIPs she served drinks to, she was protected from the others in the club. Giovanni wanted her sitting at the table with the family, but his woman was stubborn and very determined to work in order to pay for the care of her brother on her own. He could see he was going to have to choose his battles with her carefully.

  He enjoyed watching her. It no longer mattered if everyone saw him. Their engagement had been announced and his ring was on her finger. She had the protection of the Ferraro family, and that made him happy. Still, he couldn't help but be on edge. The feeling of dread persisted in the pit of his stomach and kept him on alert.

  Sasha came to their table often and each time she came up to his side, her body subtly brushed up against his. He was careful, knowing others watched, to not touch her where anyone could see, but it was easy enough to drop one hand below the table and stroke her leg, up her thigh, taking in all that smooth skin.

  Sasha did small things to make him aware of her. She dropped a napkin in his lap, and when she retrieved it with a small, shocked apology, her fingers slid over his cock. She didn't need to touch him for his body to react to her presence, but when she did, it wasn't just about the sexual response, it was the fact that she was playing. Teasing him. Making him the center of her attention without seeming to do so. He had never had that before, the way she made him feel as if he really were the center of her universe, and he looked forward to each time she came to their table.

  The club was in full swing, packed
with people dancing and drinking. Midnight had come and gone. Giovanni wanted the night over so he could spend time with his woman.

  "If you'll excuse me," Francesca said. "I need to use the ladies' room and then I would very much like my husband to dance with me again."

  Stefano kissed her hand and rose with her. At once, all the men stood. Two tables away and below them, Emilio and Enzo came to their feet. Francesca looked at Emmanuelle and rolled her eyes and laughed.

  Salvatore held out his hand to Emmanuelle. "Dance with me, cousin. I'm not in the mood to hold women at bay."

  Emmanuelle stood and gave him a little curtsy. Giovanni glanced at his watch. His woman would be on her break in another five. He rose to his feet and stretched, wishing the metal was out of his leg and he could accompany Stefano. His family would be exacting payment for what John Darby had done to Sasha. He wanted to be there. He needed to be there, but those pins, bolts and plates that had saved his leg also prevented him from doing his job.

  Emilio stepped in front of Stefano and Francesca as they started down the stairs. Ricco and Mariko followed. Emmanuelle and Salvatore were right behind. Giovanni's other brothers, Vittorio and Taviano, all but prowled down the stairs. Geno and Lucca followed them. Enzo closed in behind them. Giovanni turned toward the bar that was set up in between the two tiers. There were two of them, one serving the upper level and the other the bottom row.

  He watched as the Ferraro family captured the spotlight as they moved together, the men as well as Mariko and Emmanuelle wearing their signature pin-striped suits.

  Francesca wore a little black dress that hugged her breasts and flared at her hips, the hem short. She wore heels and sheer stockings, her thick hair falling free to her waist. She was beautiful, and flashes went off, capturing every movement. Stefano walked with her, his arms around her, his mouth on her neck, then her shoulder, one hand sliding over her hip. Stefano was rarely with Francesca without touching her. Giovanni knew what that felt like. The moment he was with Sasha, he wanted his hands on her.

  Stefano nuzzled Francesca's neck as they threaded their way through the crowd. "You look beautiful tonight."

  She put her head back and smiled at him, her eyes warm and loving. "You picked out my dress."

  "It isn't the dress." He ran his hand over her hip. "I like touching you."

  "I like you touching me." They were nearly to the ladies' room, and he spun her around and took possession of her mouth. Francesca did what she always did, no matter where they were, no matter who was around, she gave herself to him, kissing him without reservation, trusting him to control the situation if they were in public.

  Stefano loved that she gave him that control and trust. He spent a few long moments indulging himself. He loved her beyond everything and everyone in his life. She was his entire world and if anything happened to her--if anyone threatened her the way Giovanni's woman was being threatened--he'd lock her up so fast her head would spin. Then he would go hunting until he found the culprit. He knew how frustrated his brother was, frustrated and angry. He couldn't imagine being sidelined while his woman was in danger.

  He watched Francesca disappear behind the door and, as always, when she wasn't directly in his care, hard knots of tension developed in his gut. Mariko sent him a small smile and followed his woman in. Emmanuelle was added protection and then finally Enrica, Emilio's sister. Emilio had trained her and she was a damn good bodyguard. That meant with Mariko, Emmanuelle and Enrica with Francesca, he could breathe easier.

  He stepped into the men's room, his cousins and brothers moving in a tight group after him. The lights threw shadows in all directions. He stepped into one and was instantly pulled into the tube, his body feeling as if it were flying apart. Somewhere behind him, he knew Vittorio had also chosen a shadow. They moved from shadow to shadow, unerringly seeking one house.

  John Darby resided in an upscale community. Everyone knew where he lived because the parties were endless and his neighbors reported him often to the police in hopes of some relief from the continual noise and drunks vandalizing their neighborhood. Security gates were closed tight, presumably to keep out anyone who would protest the wild party going on.

  Stefano blew past the gates and went straight to the two-story house. Wide, open balconies provided space for the men and women spilling out of the house. Glass broke as drunks smashed bottles and glasses against the walls or tossed them over the railing. Music blasted from somewhere inside, the sound reverberating through the entire valley. It was no wonder the neighbors complained. At one o'clock in the morning, they would want sleep, not to listen to John Darby's particular brand of shrieking guitars.

  Stefano moved unseen through the house, seeing the smashed furniture, the drugs and the half-dressed women and men as they wound themselves around one another. Cameras were mounted everywhere, so many in each room that every angle of the interior was being recorded. On the outside, each balcony had been given the same treatment.

  Not seeing Darby anywhere throughout the house, Stefano caught another shadow and rode it to the master bedroom. The room was dark and Darby was alone in his bed. Porn was on the huge screen taking up one wall of his room. He was lying naked on the sheets, alternating looking between the screen and the mirror above his head while he frantically worked his very soft and uncooperative cock.

  Vittorio emerged in the mouth of the shadow tube beside Stefano and pointed to the cameras that were set up to catch bedroom activities should a woman be so foolish as to join Darby in his room. The reports Stefano had read on Darby's reality show proved more than one woman had made that mistake. The cameras were off, all four of them.

  Vittorio was very, very good at disrupting energy as well as causing power surges. One quick surge and the cameras began recording. Darby was too busy trying to get himself off and having no luck to notice the tiny red lights shining, signaling the cameras were on. Because he found the entire thing distasteful, Stefano signaled his brother and they moved back into the main part of the house, staying to the shadows so the cameras couldn't catch a glimpse of them.

  They had to keep their eye on the time. By now, Francesca had left the ladies' room and his cousin, Lucca, playing the part of Stefano, had caught her to him right in the center of his family and had taken her to the darkest corner, a lover's tryst, while his family blocked all access to them. He could be seen from the back, nuzzling his wife while his brothers, the women and his cousins visited. It was necessary in order to keep the illusion of his presence that he return quickly with Vittorio.

  They reentered Darby's room after shutting off the cameras in all other parts of the house. He was sitting up, looking down at his flaccid penis in disgust. Vittorio took care of the cameras, making certain they were no longer recording.

  "Having problems?" Stefano asked.

  Darby yelped and fell from the edge of the bed to the floor. Stefano glided closer. "You really shouldn't have messed with one of my employees. I had a talk with you and you promised you would behave yourself."

  Darby started to move, but Stefano stepped on his hand hard. Darby screamed, but Stefano didn't move. He just stood over him, smiling down at him. "Did you think it would up your ratings to show her naked body on your television show?"

  Darby tried to crawl away, but Stefano didn't move. He ground down harder. "When I speak to you, I expect an answer. And Johnny boy, I can hurt you in ways you never imagined."

  "No, no." Darby held up his other hand to ward him off. "You don't understand, bitches like it. They want to be seen on my show."

  "No, they don't. They don't sue you because you blackmail them with the crap you're recording. You give them date rape drugs in their drinks and then you record your friends with them and tell them you're going to release those videos. You make a little side money that way, Johnny boy? You blackmail them on top of raping and humiliating them?"

  Darby kept shaking his head, still trying to scoot away.

  "You do though. I had you investi
gated. I do believe that the day of reckoning has arrived. That little porn film you're watching, the rape of that girl by a couple of frat boys? Is that the only way you can get off now, hurting women? I think the world wants to see that, don't you? The ratings of your show will go right through the roof."

  He waved his hand toward the screen. Vittorio, from the shadows, produced the necessary surge of electricity and the recording of Darby on the bed, mixed with the film and the mirror moving back and forth, showed the reality star's underwhelming cock and the frantic pace he'd set with his fist that had clearly done no good. Audio had picked up his continual hoarse shouting at the two frat boys on the bed with the restrained girl, urging them on, telling them to hurt her and shouting graphic instructions to them.

  Darby looked horrified. "You can't ..."

  "It's playing all over town right now. Live feeds, you know. It wasn't hard to arrange." Stefano leaned down. "You ever touch a member of my family or a person under our protection again, I'll come after you and you will wish you were dead before you die. Do we have an understanding?"

  Darby frantically nodded. The music had stopped and the house was eerily silent. Stefano stepped back into the shadows. Vittorio's foot snapped out of the shadows, delivering a kick between Darby's open legs. He howled and doubled over. The Ferraros were gone, riding the shadows into the next room where the screens were all playing and replaying the same video of John Darby.

  Sasha was a little tired of the men smirking at her and staring pointedly at her breasts, held in by the lace of her camisole. If she hadn't needed the money so badly, she would gladly have taken a few days off in the hopes that another scandal would have taken the attention of the bored celebrities and their entourages she served drinks to. Most groups were polite, but there were a few that annoyed her.

  She had to laugh at herself about that, because she'd been fantasizing pretty heavily about playing Giovanni's game. She would ask him to dance first. She'd already scoped out the darkest corners in the club. She knew when they took the dance floor the paparazzi would go crazy, and that was okay. Hopefully they'd get bored. She hoped to enlist Mariko, Francesca and Emmanuelle in her little dance of seduction. They just had to get the attention of the paparazzi and give her some time alone with her man.