Fire Maidens: Venice Read online

  Fiorina pointed at Tony, who froze.

  “Him.”

  Ercole shook his head. “Out of the question. That man is a wanted criminal.”

  “Surely, we just corrected that unfortunate error,” Grazia pointed out.

  Amalia jumped to her feet. “This man saved my daughter’s life. Twice. I trust him more than I trust ten of your guards.”

  Ercole shot his men a dirty look.

  Fiorina wrung her hands and looked from Tony to Cara. “Please. Please help me, if only for a little while.”

  Tony’s lips parted, and Cara could see the protest on the tip of his tongue. As desperate as she was not to get involved, Tony had even less reason to help. Why would he stay in Venice after being treated so badly by the Guardians?

  As long as his golden-brown eyes fell on Fiorina, they were soft and understanding. But when he glanced at all the harsh faces gathered in the hall, they filled with anger and hurt pride. And when he glanced at the door — freedom — his eyes glittered with temptation.

  And, hell. Cara was just as tempted to talk some sense into Fiorina and be on her way. To head back to her job out in the fresh air, not the stuffy meeting rooms of an outdated elite.

  The only question in her mind was how to break that to Fiorina.

  She sensed Tony wrestling with the same impossible choice.

  A slight pressure registered on her arm, and she looked down to find Fiorina looking at her with those innocent puppy eyes.

  “Please,” Fiorina whispered.

  And just like that, Cara’s resolve cracked.

  “Of course.” She covered Fiorina’s hand with hers, telling herself this was a moment she would look back on with pride, not regret. “I’d be happy to stay.”

  Fiorina broke into a huge smile, then turned to Tony.

  He didn’t exactly smile, but his eyes softened again — as long as he looked at Fiorina. When he glanced at Cara, his eyes showed a hint of a warm glow.

  “Of course,” he echoed in a deep, growly voice. “It would be my pleasure.”

  Cara was sure he didn’t mean any innuendo, but hearing that deep, growly voice utter pleasure gave her lioness all kinds of bad ideas.

  “Perfect!” Fiorina clapped in delight.

  “Wonderful.” Amalia beamed.

  Neither nor, Ercole’s sour look said, though he held his tongue.

  Cara glanced at Tony and took a deep breath, wondering what she was getting into.

  Chapter Eight

  Tony yawned, stretched, and blinked in the morning light. Then he stretched again — a long, feline stretch with his rear up high, his paws far forward, and his back arched. He held it for a moment, then stuck out one hind leg after the other, working out the kinks. And, madonna — there were a hell of a lot of those. Shifters healed quickly, but ten years of military action had left him with reminders of how that time had been spent. All those injuries, all those nights out in the open…

  The curtains of the open window wafted in a light breeze. Beyond them, sunlight glittered over the Grand Canal.

  He inhaled deeply. God, it was good to be back in Venice.

  And on a decent bed. He dug his lion claws into the blanket he’d curled up on for the night.

  The blanket had been Fiorina’s idea. No matter that he’d insisted he could sleep comfortably on the floor in lion form, Fiorina wouldn’t hear of it.

  You can’t sleep on the floor. You just can’t. She’d spent ten minutes fussing over blankets and pillows the previous evening.

  He’d put up with that mainly because it gave Fiorina something to focus on other than her plight. But he had to admit to sleeping exceptionally well in spite of everything.

  Because of everything, his lion corrected, peeking toward Cara, who lay sleeping on a couch.

  He’d tried convincing himself his sense of warmth and contentment came from being back home. That was true, but every time he glanced over at Cara, the feeling intensified. Like she was home, and with her, his life would be complete.

  Of course, he would feel even more complete if Cara had spent the night in his arms. But, hey. He would take what he could get.

  And boy, had the last twenty-four hours delivered. Not only was he back in Venice, but all the accusations against him had been dropped. All that, and he’d met Cara, too.

  His heart skipped a beat.

  He’d even scored a job as Fiorina’s bodyguard. When she had first asked, instinct told him to run for the hills. But things had a way of looking brighter and sunnier in broad daylight. Shadows receded, taking intrigues and old grudges with them, at least for a while.

  He opened his jaws wide and bared his teeth in a huge, lazy yawn. He would have loved to release a hearty morning roar, too, but that would wake the others. Instead, he started grooming himself like the self-respecting feline he was. First, with long, meticulous licks of his legs, then thoroughly scrubbing his muzzle with a paw.

  The previous night’s meeting with the Guardians had dragged on until well past midnight. At Ercole’s insistence, Fiorina had spent the night in a closely guarded suite on the top level of the palace. And at her insistence, Tony and Cara had spent the night in the same penthouse — him in lion form by the windows and Cara curled up on a couch. A few steps away, Fiorina had all but disappeared into the fluffy blankets of a huge four-poster bed.

  Tony and Cara had stuck to a three-hour watch schedule throughout the night. Given the late hour, they’d only stood one shift each, and he could use another few hours’ sleep. Still, it was remarkable how easily he and Cara had fallen into a routine — as if she’d been one of the comrades he’d been through so much with and not a complete stranger.

  Not a stranger, his lion growled. Our mate.

  He’d spent most of the night teasing Cara’s scent out from all the others in that huge room. An earthy, honest scent that made him wonder whether she spent her days tending herb gardens. But she’d mentioned something about lagoon restoration, right?

  He moistened a paw, rubbed it over his whiskers, then cocked his ears at the sound of someone stirring downstairs. A fresh crew of guards was coming on duty from the sounds of it.

  Tony padded quietly around the room, assuring himself Fiorina was safe. Then he stepped behind a silk screen set in a corner, shifted to human form, and pulled on his clothes. Afterward, he spiraled up a private staircase leading to the rooftop terrace, pushed back a thick steel bolt, and peered outside.

  Finally, he stepped out, closed his eyes, and soaked in the warm sunlight.

  So nice. So warm, his lion hummed. How did we ever survive a winter in Scotland?

  On that thought, his eyes popped open. Scotland. His plan had been to return there after a quick in-and-out visit to Venice. But now…

  He walked a slow lap of the rooftop terrace, wondering how he would ever drag himself away.

  Then he rubbed his hands, refocusing. All that mattered now was — well, now. It was so good to be back. So good to be absolved of the crime he hadn’t committed.

  So good to be close to Cara, his lion hummed.

  For a time, he gazed out over the sea of tiled rooftops punctuated by cupolas and bell towers. Then something scuffed behind him, and he whirled.

  “Just me,” Cara murmured from the top of the stairs.

  His jaw fell slightly open, and he stood dumb struck. Just didn’t apply, not with the sun backlighting her figure in an angelic glow.

  “Buongiorno,” he murmured, dipping his head.

  Her smile came from the heart, making it feel like the sun was twice as bright, the air twice as warm. But when her lips quirked, he patted his pockets, suddenly worried he’d left his pants half zipped or worn his shirt inside-out. Cara’s eyes caught on his chest, and he turned pink. His shirt was on the right way, but he hadn’t gotten around to buttoning the front. He did so hastily while she studiously took in the view. Still, he caught her peeking a few times.

  She likes what she sees, his lion hummed.

/>   He sure hoped so, but that didn’t mean he was going to march around like some kind of underwear model. They had business to discuss after all.

  He cleared his throat and stepped over to Cara. “How did you sleep?”

  Her sigh said it all. “How about you?”

  “Enough for now.” He turned, gazing over the city.

  “So, where to start?” Cara posed the very question on his mind.

  With you, his lion filled in.

  He wanted to know everything about her — her favorite food. Favorite hobbies. How she spent her days…

  What she dreams of at night, his lion threw in.

  He forced himself to concentrate on the relevant parts. “You seem to know the Fellini family well.”

  Her eyes warmed. “In some ways, yes. Eight years ago, I worked as their au pair.”

  “Just an au pair?” He stuck up his hands, mimicking her martial arts pose of the previous evening.

  Her eyes sparkled — those amazing, two-toned eyes. “An au pair with a broad range of skills. A friend of a friend of the family put us in touch. I was told not to ask too many questions, and I never wanted to. All I wanted was for them to be safe. To be happy.” Her expression grew fierce.

  “So, you had no idea…?”

  She shook her head. “All I knew was they had to guard their privacy. For me, it was a chance to work in Italy. My great-grandparents emigrated from Venice to the States—”

  “So that’s why you speak such good Italian,” he interjected.

  She flashed a wistful smile. “Not according to my older relatives. Anyway, that’s one reason I’ve always wanted to spend time in Venice — and not just as a tourist.”

  “Why did your great-grandparents leave?”

  She made a face. “Mussolini. Enough said?”

  They both turned in the direction of the causeway connecting Venice with the mainland. For years, Venice had guarded its independence like the city-state it had once been. Then Mussolini had ordered the causeway built and reeled in the city as part of a growing empire. Concerned shifters had done their best to stem the rising tide of fascism, but when it turned into a flood, many left. Some went abroad, while others sought refuge from the madness of the human world in remote corners of the lagoon.

  Tony looked toward to a cluster of small, sleepy islands to the northwest. His family had left too — although more recently. All except his grandfather, who lived on a tiny speck of an island in the lagoon.

  Originally, Tony had planned on a covert visit to his grandfather after a night in Venice. Now, that visit could take place in the open — theoretically. The island old-timers were a stubborn lot. Once they’d made up their minds about a man — especially a man pronounced guilty of murdering a Guardian — they were unlikely to change their views.

  Tony couldn’t hold back a sigh as he looked out over the lagoon. When Cara cocked her head, he mustered a smile.

  “So many unknowns,” he murmured, switching to French. “But that’s life. C’est la vie.”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but when their eyes met, her lips wobbled, and no sound emerged. The morning air was perfectly still, yet an invisible force started to swirl around the two of them. First gently, then faster, like a tornado intent on trapping them in its eye.

  And, oops. Before he knew it, they were close. Kissing-close. His hand moved all by itself, and he found himself touching her cheek. Her skin was soft, her gaze full of wonder. Her height brought her chin to a point just two or three inches below his own — the perfect level for a kiss.

  So, kiss, his lion purred.

  He would have, but by then, she’d cupped his cheek. Gently, she stroked her thumb over his beard. In no time, his eyelids were drooping, and he nearly hummed.

  “Cara,” he whispered, dipping in for a kiss.

  She tilted her chin up to meet his lips. But they had barely brushed when footsteps sounded up the stairs.

  “Buongiorno,” an uncertain voice called.

  Tony and Cara jerked apart.

  “Fiorina.” Cara smoothed a hand over her hair. “Good morning. Come on up.”

  “Are you sure?” Fiorina asked.

  Cara nodded. “Yes. It’s fine. How did you sleep?”

  Fiorina peeked up and around like a meerkat checking its surroundings. “Better than I expected, thanks to you.” She turned in a circle, scanning the sky. “I just came up to see if you wanted coffee or tea.”

  “Coffee would be great,” they both said at the same time, then grinned at each other.

  “Perfect. I’ll be right back.” Fiorina ducked under cover again.

  She reappeared a few minutes later with a breakfast platter and three steaming coffees. In no time, they were seated around a table on the rooftop terrace, eating and basking in the morning sun.

  Well, Tony and Cara basked. But Fiorina’s eyes darted around nervously, and her hands shook.

  “A beautiful day,” Cara murmured at one point.

  Fiorina forced a smile. “It is. And like my mother says, we have to look on the bright side.”

  Tony’s heart went out to the girl. Clearly, she was way out of her depth. He’d met several Fire Maidens, and Fiorina simply didn’t match up. It wasn’t her slight frame or narrow shoulders that disqualified her so much as her timid nature.

  Tony probed that issue as delicately as he could. “Congratulations. On being a Fire Maiden, I mean.”

  Fiorina twisted the napkin in her lap. “I’m not. Not really. Just the next best thing.”

  He cocked his head. “Scusi?”

  “The last true Fire Maiden died in the last World War. That left my family as the last with royal blood — but only on my father’s side, and only a little bit. Everyone knows that. But they insist on calling me a Fire Maiden.”

  “Why?” Cara asked.

  Fiorina’s gaze dropped to her feet. “My aunt says it gives people hope. You know, with all the uncertainty in the world…” She trailed off, fidgeting. “But there’s danger too.”

  “The question is, from whom?” Cara hacked at a piece of fruit with a knife, as if in warning to anyone who threatened her friend.

  Fiorina pinched her lips. “I wish I knew. Maybe someone who thinks I actually have power when I don’t?”

  Cara put a hand over Fiorina’s. “Is that why your family was in hiding?”

  Fiorina nodded. “Partly, and partly because of what happened to my father.” Her throat bobbed, and she shot Tony a grateful look.

  He forced a little smile. The terrified little girl he’d rescued all those years ago had grown up, but the fear still shone through.

  For God’s sake. He wanted to stomp downstairs to the Guardians and thump a fist on their oversized desk. Whose idea was it to throw an innocent girl into this den of wolves?

  Fiorina lowered her voice. “I was about to begin art school, but the Guardians thought it might help to have me here, so I have to do my best. I have to make my father proud.”

  Tony looked out over the rooftops. That, he could relate to all too well.

  “My aunt says it’s my destiny,” Fiorina whispered, not too enthusiastically.

  For the next few minutes, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

  Tony hoped fate would spare Fiorina the worst. She’d already been through so much. And Cara — the woman was more the type to take her destiny in both hands and bend it to her will, whatever that might be.

  As for him… He frowned, considering. What would his destiny be?

  Chapter Nine

  All in all, it was the nicest, quietest breakfast Tony had had in a long time. The warmest, too, given the six months he’d spent in Scotland. So, when Fiorina insisted on brewing more coffee, he didn’t say no.

  The moment she disappeared downstairs, Cara leaned in, whispering, “Aren’t Fire Maidens supposed to be great leaders? Don’t get me wrong. I love Fiorina like a sister. But she’s just not cut out for it. All she ever talked about as a kid was
becoming an artist. But somehow, she’s been roped into being a stand-in Fire Maiden.”

  Exactly what he’d been thinking. How had the Guardians ever convinced themselves that bringing her to Venice would be a good idea?

  “I suppose their theory has some merit…if she has enough royal blood to revive the ancient spells that protect the city.”

  Cara snorted. “If they hang around waiting for magic to kick in, the city is doomed. They need to act, and act now.”

  He grinned. Too bad Cara wasn’t the Fire Maiden. She would get things moving, and fast.

  “Where would you start?”

  She started ticking off her fingers as if she’d already thought it all through. “I would reroute cruise ships to a harbor outside the lagoon. Cap the number of visitors per day. Use EU money to shore up the foundations of the most endangered buildings.”

  “That would be every second building in town.”

  She made a face, ceding his point. “Yes, but it needs to be done. The sooner, the better. Most importantly, we need to stabilize the ecosystem of the lagoon.”

  He laughed. “Don’t tell me you think MOSE will actually work?”

  MOSE was an acronym for an ambitious system of flood barriers initiated in the 1980s. The thing was, construction still wasn’t complete.

  Cara shook her head. “That money — even a fraction of it — would go a lot further through smaller projects with higher success rates, like replanting the vegetation that stabilizes river sediments. But that will only work if we restore the natural course of the rivers that come down from the mountains. That would also revive the nesting grounds of migratory birds…”

  She went on in that vein for a while, her cheeks flushing with energy and passion.

  His inner beast growled, thinking about stirring another type of passion in her and watching all that energy channeled to a different purpose.

  I can see it now, his lion hummed, conjuring up an image of himself and her intertwined on a big, creaky bed. Sweating. Panting. Moving in perfect harmony…

  Tony cleared his throat and did his best to replace those steamy thoughts with other things. But sea grass, sediments, and migratory birds just couldn’t compete.