Dark Symphony (42 page)

 I told you they weren't involved. His weariness was beating at her. She couldn't help herself. She laid her hand on his arm. Go find whatever you need to be strong again. Or use me.

 He laughed softly and leaned down to kiss her on her upturned mouth. Thank you for the invitation, but I cannot touch you in front of your family. I would want to retire to your bedroom.

 It was his voice, a velvet-soft symphony of seduction, that teased the color into her face. Before she could respond, Tasha hugged Antonietta again, completely unaware of the interruption. "Are there things you can do to help you see better? Glasses? Maybe an operation? The laser techniques are supposed to work miracles."

 "I've had my miracle," Antonietta said. "Byron, you have that one thing to take care of. If you want to do that now, I'll sit up here and visit with Paul."

 My tyrant life mate. He was secretly pleased that she was worried enough to be insistent he feed.

 Antonietta tried to watch him leave, but the room spun, and the strangely shaped objects flew at her eyes. She closed them tightly. "Movement makes it more difficult. I have to look at something stationary to really see it. We think that will change with time and a little practice."

 "Antonietta." Paul reached for his cousin. She responded immediately by threading her fingers through his. "Please make peace with Justine. I know you're hurt by what she did, but I told her they were going to kill me. I laid it on pretty thick. She begged me to go to you. She begged me to lay low until she could get the money together herself. We had a terrible fight about it. I felt like such a lowlife, but I was certain she was involved in the theft ring."

 "Have you told her what you thought? Does she know you nearly died coming here and not going to a hospital? I couldn't have saved your life, Paul. Byron was the one who worked on you and managed to keep you alive."

 "I feel different. And it's strange, Toni, but I swear there was a noise this morning, this weird whirring sound. Justine tracked it all over the bedroom. It turned out to be a bug, and the noise was its wings. I just feel more alive, even though I hurt like hell most of the time." He rubbed his shadowed jaw. "Justine is going to marry me. She was pretty angry with me, especially that I would think she would sell out our family, but I convinced her. It helped that I look pathetic right now."

 Antonietta sighed. "She really hurt me, Paul. I trusted her, and I depended on that trust for my confidence. She took that away from me."

 "I took it away. You know how I am. Tasha, talk to her, she always listens to you. This is important."

 Antonietta felt Tasha's sudden stillness. "You do, Toni. You do listen to me. I always matter to you."

 "Silly. Of course. I love you. Your opinion has always mattered to me. You know how I think and feel. You know what's important to me. What would you do? I love Justine, but I don't know if I can forgive what she did."

 Tasha laughed softly. "Toni, don't be an idiot. You forgive everybody, everything. That's just how you are. You couldn't carry a grudge if your life depended on it. Not with family. Whether you like it or not, Justine falls under the family umbrella, so no matter what, you're going to forgive her. You're hurt, not angry. There speaks undoubtedly die voice of true wisdom." Tasha sounded self-mocking.

 "Great, Tasha, you're not entering in the spirit of the thing. I wanted to wallow in self-pity, and you're not letting me."

 "It isn't your style."

 "I'm going to ask you both a crazy question. Do either of you ever feel strange, like there's a beast inside of you, trying to get out?"

 "Like a cat," Paul said. He rubbed his arm. "Sometimes I itch, and I feel an incredible power."

 "And all your senses come alive," Antonietta added.

 "I don't feel that way," Tasha said, "but I can speak to Paul telepathically. We've done it ever since we were children. I can't with anyone else but him."

 "You never told me."

 "Only because I didn't want you to feel left out." Tasha sighed softly. "Do you really love Byron, Toni?" There was a catch in her voice.

 "More than I ever thought possible. I can't imagine my life without him."

 "Where does he want to live? What does he do? Do you know anything at all about him?"

 "He works with gems. He has his own money. We will have to take trips to his homeland, but we'll reside here at the palazzo. He can make his jewelry here. He'll travel with me when I tour."

 "How did you know for certain? Aren't you afraid?" Tasha looked down at her hands. "I always marry the wrong man."

 "You marry for the wrong reasons," Antonietta replied softly. "You know going into the marriage it's wrong for you."

 "I really like Diego. I really do, Toni. He makes me laugh, and I feel good about myself. He talks to me like I have a brain. We've spent quite a bit of time together, just talking. I'd like to meet his children. But what if I can't be married to a man like him?"

 "You mean a man who isn't wealthy?"

 Tasha waved her hand exasperated. "It isn't the money. I'll have plenty of money in time. I can borrow money from you if I don't have it. He would expect me to be a wife and mother. Full-time. I've never done anything full-time."

 Antonietta laughed. "Tasha, you don't have to be anything but yourself. You spend most of the day with Margurite and Vincente. You watch Nonno like a hawk, even when it makes him crazy. I hear you pushing chairs in when I'm walking because someone else was careless and left them out."

 "I detest giving orders to the servants."

 "I doubt if Diego has servants."

 "I have to have servants, Toni. Certainly he wouldn't expect me to do the laundry." She shuddered. "The thought of touching dirty, smelly clothes is awful. But I did love cooking. I took that gourmet course, and I was really good. Cooking was fun. Sometimes Enrico let me cook in the kitchen, but I know Alfredo would never let me."

 "For heaven's sake, Tasha," Paul burst out. "Afredo doesn't own the kitchen, we do. If you want to cook, tell him to get out and leave you to it."

 Justine knocked on the door politely as she entered. "Paul, you're looking so much better."

 "Byron and Toni worked their magic on me." Paul held out his hand to her. "Come and join us. I told Tasha and Toni I badgered you until you agreed to marry me. Toni has big news. Even bigger than ours." He didn't wait to see if Antonietta would relate the information. "Byron was able to heal her eyes enough that she can see."

 "That's impossible. Toni saw every specialist possible, and they all said it couldn't be done." She turned to her employer. "How could he have healed your eyes?"

 "He has the gift. It isn't perfect, Justine. My brain doesn't have the connections it needs between sight and objects. I try to keep my eyes closed most of the time and rely on my other senses. It's much easier. If I have my eyes open, and whatever I'm looking at moves, I feel very sick. Sometimes I see strange shapes and objects, like I'm connecting with the wrong image. It's weird."

 "But exciting," Justine said. "Toni, I know you're very angry with me. I know I deserve it, but I don't want to lose our friendship. This is my family. I love you very much. It was wrong of me. I can't change what I did, as much as I'd like to, but I'd like to find a way to show you how sorry I really am."

 "I'm hurt, Justine, not angry. I'm trying to understand."

 "I'm going to stand up for Toni on her wedding day," Tasha announced, "so there's no need to get all buddy-buddy, you two. And Marita can forget it, too."

 "Well, of course you'll stand up for me, Tasha, but there's room for Marita and Justine, too."

 "You're really limiting your colors, Toni," Tasha warned. "Marita looks awful in pastels, and Justine is so pale—"

 "Tasha." Paul reprimanded.

 Celt suddenly lifted his head from Antonietta's lap. His entire body tensed alertly. Antonietta moved uncomfortably, her skin itching, her stomach doing a strange flip. Dark dread gathered in the pit of her stomach. A shadow seemed to pass through the room. It was more in her mind than in reality. An ominous warning.

 "Toni," Tasha rubbed her arms as if suddenly cold. "What's wrong?"

 "I don't know. Do you feel something odd?"

 Paul slumped back against the pillows, his hand in Justine's, his eyes closed. Justine shook her head for both of them. "Everything seems fine to us, Toni."

 "The dog is acting funny," Tasha reported. "He looks dangerous."

 "Stay with Paul," Antonietta said. "I want to check on Nonno. Celt can go with me. He's a good guide."

 "Do you really think something's wrong? I can call Diego," Tasha offered.

 Antonietta didn't answer. She didn't bother to try to use her eyes. She needed speed, and it was so much easier to rely on Celt. He paced at her side, his body maneuvering her around every obstacle in the hall and down the stairs. Byron. She connected instantly with him. How far away are you? She sent the impression of the dark shadow. Of impending danger. Of dread.

 Stay inside the palazzo. I will come to you immediately, and Eleanor and Vlad are on their way. I have tried to touch Josef, but he is not responding or is incapable of it. Vlad says the same.

 He was with Nonno in the courtyard.

 Stay inside, Antonietta.

 "As if I would," she muttered rebelliously. "Franco!" She raised her voice, something she seldom did, hating to interrupt what she knew was an important talk, but needing him. "Helena! Come out to the courtyard and help me find Nonno." She leaned down toward the dog. "Celt, I'm counting on you. We don't want anything to happen to Nonno or young Josef. She pushed open the French doors leading to the terrace that opened into the courtyard.

 Celt didn't growl, but a nearly inaudible sound rumbled in his throat. His body seemed to vibrate with tension.

 Antonietta inhaled deeply and caught a pungent odor. Something wild. Something deadly. She hung on to Celt. "Find Nonno, Celt. Show me where he is."

 "What is it, Signorina Scarletti?" Helena asked, coming up behind her.

 "Have you seen my grandfather?"

 "Don Giovanni was out in the garden as he is most evenings. That young man, Josef, was with him. They must have walked into the maze."

 "Please tell Franco to follow me. I'm going to look for Nonno."

 "Yes, of course, I'll tell him immediately. Do you need me to help you?"

 "If you would get Franco and tell him to be careful," Antonietta said, "that would be wonderful." She didn't want Helena exposed to any danger. Cautiously she stepped down the terrace stairs into the courtyard. "Find him, Celt, find Nonno."

 The dog fairly shook with the effort to contain his need to hunt. He started off toward the maze, but just feet away from one of the entrances, he stopped and swung back toward the palazzo.

 Antonietta released her hold on the dog and opened her eyes very slowly. It was dark enough and with the glasses, the terrible lurching and flashing lights didn't intrude. She looked up toward the battlement, trying to focus on one of the gargoyles, just to get her bearings. It took a few moments for the image of the sculpture to clear. She saw the wings spread wide as if about to launch into the air, teeth bared, eyes wide open and staring. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the body of young Josef lying motionless, his beret hanging off the gargoyles' wing tip. Crouched over him was a large spotted cat. The cat turned its head and looked down at her, malice in its eyes.

 Byron. Quickly, I need the image of an owl. Hold it for me. Antonietta waited a heartbeat, an eternity, and then the image was there for her. Thankfully, Byron didn't make the mistake of asking questions or chastising her. He caught the terrible sense of urgency and provided the data she needed. Her skin prickled, her body compressed. She closed her eyes tightly as she shifted into the shape of the night predator.

 It was much more difficult to launch from the ground, but she managed. As she leapt, a great gust of wind swept under her to aid her in rising. She flew straight up to avoid having to open her eyes until the last possible moment.

 Link with me. The command was impossible to ignore. There was a mixture of fear and anger tinged with respect, but Byron's tone held a compulsion Antonietta had to obey. She felt him take her mind completely, force her eyes open. She waited for the strange, disorienting sickness, but it didn't come. She realized he was using her eyes and making the connections himself. He understood what he was seeing, and he instantly translated.

 Fog rolled in, unexpectedly, from the sea. It was so thick, wisps seemed to hang in the sky like a barrier. The owl flew silently, stealthily, using the fog as cover. It took only seconds to make its way over the battlements and drop like a stone at the cat as it bent its head to Josef's exposed throat.

 Antonietta was startled when she heard a far-off scream of anguish followed by the echo of a male voice crying out his promise of retribution. Razor-sharp talons ripped at the eyes of the jaguar, slashing and digging, driving the cat backward away from its prey. The wind howled, nearly drowning out the snarl of the beast. It spat and swiped with its paws, then whirled and ran, leaping easily over a multitude of gargoyles to race along the banister toward the far side of the tower.

 The owl settled down close to Josef, shifting back into human form. Antonietta bent over the young man. There was a terrible gaping wound on his throat. He had bled profusely. She couldn't get a pulse. Byron. Is he dead?

 Black threads swirled and spun overhead. Lightning raced across the sky. Thunder boomed, shaking the palazzo. Dark cauldrons of clouds boiled and seethed, spitting out rage and anger and a terrible grief that was hardly to be borne.

 Antonietta fought past the weight and intensity of the storm of emotion raging in the heavens. Her hands covered the wounds as she attempted to assess the damage done to his body.

 Josef shut down his heart and lungs when the blow was struck. Byron hoped he was telling her the truth. Josef was young for their people. Shutting down completely after suffering a mortal wound was not an easy task.