Seduced by Danger (8 page)

Cara nodded slowly.

The other woman smiled. “And I am
folletta
. I believe our mothers were sisters. What was your mother’s name?”

Cara hesitated one second before answering. “My mom’s name was
Apronai
.”

Scarlata
nodded. “And mine was
Tirai
. When I was young, my mother occasionally talked about her sister who had moved to the New World. Mother said her name was
Apronai
. When I moved here, I attempted to find my aunt but was unable.”

Scarlata’s
smile showed again and her eyes softened. “It’s nice to meet you, cousin. My mate and I will do everything we can to protect your son while you and Michael hunt down the animal who hurt you and your sister. Justin is rather special.”

“And she doesn’t mean in the Special Olympics kind of way.” Justin’s easy smile and hint of a drawl eased a little bit more of the tension building in Michael’s chest. “Every single person in these rooms vouched for you, Michael. And I gotta tell you, that goes a hell of a long way with me.” Then his expression sobered. “But I have to ask the questions myself. I won’t risk
Scarlata
or my child—”

“
Your
child?”
Scarlata’s
eyebrows lifted and her voice should have made the man bleed.

“Our child,” Justin corrected himself with a nod at his mate. “You have to give me your word you’re not gonna screw us. You have to swear it because if you fuck us over—”

“My pregnancy has made Justin forget his manners,”
Scarlata
cut off her mate, giving him another one of her stares, to which he replied with his own raised eyebrow. “Please don’t—”

“I will give my life,” Michael said, “before I allow the
Mal
to take Cara or Lacey. And I will not betray anyone to do it. I’ll kill myself first.”

Justin’s smile returned. “Then let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that.”

* * * * *

Cara’s entire body ached with tension by the time the details to their plan were hammered out.

Everyone but Michael had agreed that Cara needed to stay by his side. He’d fought long and hard against it.

Easier to determine had been who was staying behind—Justin,
Scarlata
,
Antonin
, Ellie, Rosie and Lacey. They’d stay with
Aron
and Sal here at the house.

Cam,
Teo
, Rio, Stella, Cara and Michael would go to Long Island, where Bennett was located.

Cam hadn’t been too eager to take Stella but he hadn’t argued as much as Michael had about Cara going.

Cara understood his reluctance. Really, she did. But she saw his desire for her to stay at home as suicide.

And that was making her crazy.

While everyone continued to discuss the situation, she slipped out the side door of the house into Sal’s small courtyard to think.
Aron
was completely engrossed in building block towers with Rosie and Rio and knocking them down. He never seemed to get tired of that.

While he was occupied, she needed a little space to think and Sal’s courtyard was the perfect place for a little private introspection.

Enclosed on all sides by a tall fence, the area was shaded from the prying eyes of neighbors by an oak tree planted in the center. Its branches covered the entire small patio and beautiful border garden. Cara felt invisible there, the serenity of the garden easing into her psyche and calming her.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, breathing in the late-summer perfume of basil, oregano and rosemary in Sal’s herb garden. A few fat bees buzzed around the hydrangea blooms and the
rudbeckia
, and the late-afternoon sun gilded everything with a golden haze.

You’d never know Sal lived in the middle of a city. She barely heard the rumble of traffic and wondered if Sal had a dampening spell around the area.

She’d lived in New York City but had never been allowed to walk the streets. She and Lacey spent any time outdoors on top of the building, where the
Mal
had created a garden larger than Sal’s but less welcoming.

That rooftop garden had been full of straight lines and trimmed trees and grass. Perfect tea roses bloomed from spring through fall and she’d never seen a dead blossom. Ever. For all its perfection, the garden had been static. Joyless.

Here…here she could be happy for days. She could lose herself in the scents and the textures.

Too bad she couldn’t stay here forever.

The door on the side of the house that led out to the garden opened and Michael walked out. His expression was set in smooth lines. No hint of stress showed but his eyes… In his eyes, she saw a wildness he couldn’t hide.

He walked out the path between the fence and the house but stopped at the edge of the garden.

“Are they finished making plans?” she asked.

Michael sighed before nodding. “Yes.
Teo
and Cam left to get weapons. When they get back, we’ll leave.” He hesitated. “Cara, please reconsider. I’m begging you—”

He broke off, confusion evident in his furrowed brow.

Cara frowned as well. “Michael? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I thought I felt…something…”

She stood, brushing off the seat of her denim shorts before walking over to Michael. “Felt what?”

“I’m not sure. Look, let’s go inside and—”

Michael’s eyes widened and fear traced shivers up her spine. Or had she felt something brush past her? A spell?

She laid her hand on his arm and tried to get him to turn back to the house, but he seemed frozen in place. “Michael? What is it? What—”

He took two steps backward, away from her, and held out his hands to stop her from coming closer. “No! Stay back, Cara. Gods damn it—”

And he vanished.

* * * * *

The disorientation of the powerful translocation spell left Michael with a wicked headache and violent nausea.

When he rematerialized, he fell to his knees and lost the contents of his stomach on the hardwood floor.

His mother was going to be pissed.

Of course, it would serve her right if he just died right there on the floor of her altar room.

He’d recognized his whereabouts immediately, even through the haze of excruciating pain running through his body like poison.

“Michael, please,” his mother said. “Get off the floor. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Vivianne
and Francis
Corsi
stood in front of him. His mother’s disgusted expression trumped his father’s cool glare. Growing up, it had taken Michael until he was sixteen to realize his father wasn’t really the one in charge in their home.

His mom held the true power. She was a strong
strega
, and though she hadn’t been born
Malandante
, she had been raised as one. And that had made his mother more of a
Mal
than if she’d been born to it.

Still on his hands and knees, he pushed to his feet, though the grinding pain made his head swim and he nearly toppled back over.

“Oh for the gods’ sake,”
Vivianne
huffed. “You act like you’re dying. Don’t be so dramatic. And don’t act surprised to be here. I warned you. You’ve got debts to pay, Michael, and it’s time to pay them.”

Breathing through his nose to try to calm the nausea, he met his mother’s dark gaze.
Vivianne
Corsi
was a beautiful woman. At seventy-two years old, her face was barely lined, her body slim and toned. She stood only two inches over five feet but she projected the power and strength of a man twice her size.

“Hello, Mother.” He had to grit his teeth against the pain in every one of his muscles. “Nice to see you. And you, Father. Sorry if I don’t offer to shake your hand but I’m not feeling too good at the moment.”

His mother walked closer, arms across her chest as she looked him up and down. “Don’t think this will keep you from paying for your crimes. We gave you two years to come to your senses. But when we were approached by your former employer we decided we’d let you have enough rope and it was time to pull you in.”

“So…Rhoades finally,” he gasped around the pain, “grew some balls?”

“Not Rhoades, dear. Franklin Bennett will be here in minutes to take you back to New York.”

The news didn’t surprise him as much as it should have. “Then he better hurry ’cause I’ll be dead in half an hour.”

Chapter Six

The pain was barely manageable but all Cara could think about was Michael.

He must be in agony and she needed to get to him.

It took her several seconds to work through the sudden searing pain and then another few to drag herself to her feet and back to the house.

Pushing through the door, trying to breathe through the burning agony in her chest, she realized no one was in sight.

“Sal! Sal, where are you? Someone took Michael.”

Cara heard movement in all parts of the house and people came running. Tears formed and she knew it wasn’t solely because of the fear she felt over Michael’s disappearance.

For years when she’d been a prisoner of the
Mal
, Cara had only had Lacey to rely on. Then only Michael. Now a horde of people ran when she called.

Lacey took one look at her face and handed
Aron
, sitting on her hip, to Rosie.

“Hey, big guy,” Lacey said. “Why don’t you and Rosie see if
Dora
is on? I bet Rosie loves
Dora
.”

As Rosie disappeared with
Aron
, Cam moved in front of Cara, settling his big hands on her shoulders.

“Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.” His deep voice soothed her stress level enough to let her think clearly.

There wasn’t much to tell but she recounted everything she’d seen and heard as precisely as she could. When she was finished, she realized she knew exactly who had taken Cam.

“His parents took him,” she said. “His mother called earlier. She had his cell number even though Michael hasn’t been in contact with her or his father since we ran three years ago.”

“You’re sure he hasn’t called or—”

“No.” In this, she was one hundred percent sure. “He hasn’t. I don’t know how they did it but I know Michael was able to find us through his blood tie to
Aron
. That must be how they found him.”

“Do you have any idea where they took him?”

“I know his parents live in Florida but he never told me where.”

“How are you feeling, Cara?” Sal asked.

Lacey drew in a sharp breath. “Oh gods. Cara, are you okay? How do you feel?”

Cara shook her head, unwilling to let her sister know how much pain she was in. “It’s manageable.”

Lacey’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t buying it. “Cara…”

“I’m okay. For now. But Michael must be in so much pain. We have to find him. You have to get me to him. Cam, please.”

“All right,” Cam said. “We’ll find him. But we’re gonna need
Aron
.”

* * * * *

Michael knew he’d passed out from the pain.

He’d wanted to be awake when Bennett arrived. Wanted to face the bastard on his feet.

But he couldn’t do it, his body in an uproar because of the distance from Cara. His
arus
was starved for her and he felt like he was suffocating, each breath unable to fill his lungs and his blood starving for oxygen.

He did have the satisfaction of seeing absolute terror on his mother’s face just before he blacked out.

He remembered thinking it would serve her right if Bennett decided to exact some of his revenge on her if Michael died before he got there.

But he didn’t die because when he finally came around, he was no longer at his parents’ home.

And the pain was no longer as bad, several steps below agonizing.

He must be closer to Cara.

Then he realized where he was. On the floor of one of the rooms in the New York apartment where Cara and Lacey had been kept captive for years.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake and feeling better, Michael. I would hate to think you’d died before you could return what belongs to me.”

Frank Bennett stood over him, his round face a pale gleaming pink the same shade as his head with the ring of gray hair just around the edges. His round stomach gave him a benevolent appearance but there was no warmth in his dark eyes.

Michael took his time getting to his feet, letting Bennett think he was more incapacitated than he was. Letting the two goons behind him think he posed no risk.

But he refused to show any fear. Because fear would mean he had something to hide.

“You’ll never find the money, Bennett. I’m sure you’ve had men trying for two years. They haven’t found it yet. And they never will. Especially not if you kill me.”

Bennett’s expression never changed. “We both know that’s not what I’m talking about. What you took was worth more than any fortune I could amass and I want it back. And you will give it back.”

Michael met Bennett’s cold eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Bennett shrugged. “Of course you do. The girl is worth her weight in gold and you knew that. I don’t believe you’ve sold her. I would have heard of such a transaction. I have to assume you’ve kept her for yourself. Which is just selfish of you, Michael. And counterproductive to
Mal
interests. So the question I keep coming back to is why. Why did you take her? I would have gladly let you have her whenever you’d asked.”

Michael refused to let the man see him sweat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I took your money, Bennett. Why would I want one of your toys?”

Bennett nodded, his expression never changing. He reminded Michael of a snake. “Yes, that is the question, isn’t it? I guess I’ll just have to wait until you tell me in your own words. But first, I’d like to make you a little more receptive to my questions.”

* * * * *

Cara gasped as the pain circulating through her body eased. Just like that, it subsided to a dull ache in her gut.

“Cam,” she called. “He’s been moved. Closer.”

The oldest de
Feo
brother looked at her over Sal’s altar as he prepared for the ritual that would pinpoint Michael’s location.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded. “Positive. The pain…it’s all but gone. Are you almost ready?”

“Yeah, we’re good to go. Why don’t you go get
Aron
?”

She’d been avoiding thinking about this part of the ritual. Good mothers typically didn’t want their children to bleed. Sure,
Aron
had had his share of spills and skinned knees and bumps to the head. But Cam was going to take a blade to her son’s palm in a few minutes. It wasn’t right.

But
Aron
would heal. His father would be dead if they didn’t do something.

Before she could turn to leave, Lacey entered the room,
Aron
on her hip. He reached for her immediately and she took him, hugging him close until he started to squirm.

“Lacey, will you stay?”

“Of course.” Lacey came over and laid her hand on shoulder. “You know he won’t remember a thing.”

Could everyone read her so easily?

Aron
smacked a kiss on her cheek then squirmed to get down. She set him on his feet and watched him walk right to
Teo
and start chattering to him, asking about the tools on the altar. He had a thousand questions but
Teo
answered each one with patience, explaining everything.

“He’ll make a good father,” Cara said.

“I hope he gets the chance.” Lacey put her arm around Cara’s shoulders. “You’re doing the right thing.
Aron
needs his father.”

“Even if his father’s
Mal
?” Cara looked up to see Lacey’s mouth lift in a small smile.

“There’s something to be said for free will, Cara. Michael’s done everything he can to protect you and
Aron
. And you and I, we’re not exactly without a dark side.”

“I know that. At first, I thought that was why Michael and I…why we were attracted to each other. I thought there had to be something wrong with me that I was falling in love with a
Mal
. That we deserved each other.”

“Cara, no—”

“But,” she continued, “if Michael and I were so bad, how could we have created something as inherently good as
Aron
?”

Hearing his name,
Aron
looked up at that moment and smiled, so sweet it brought tears to her eyes. She was about to scar her son for life. But wouldn’t losing his father be so much worse?

Cara drew in a deep breath and smiled back at her son. “Come on, let’s get this done before I chicken out.”

* * * * *

Michael moved his jaw back and forth, wondering if Bennett’s goons had broken it.

He was pretty sure he had a cracked rib and possibly a broken arm but that didn’t hurt as much as the rib, so he figured he could still fight.

He hadn’t put up much resistance when the goons had started in on him. Let them think he wasn’t as skilled a fighter as he’d become so that when he did fight his way out of here, he had some element of surprise.

But he had to get out of this room first. He knew the layout of this building inside and out. He’d committed it to memory when he’d made the plans for Cara’s escape.

But the room Bennett had tossed him in was virtually escape-proof. He knew because it was one of the bedrooms where Lacey and Cara had been used by the men Bennett gave them to.

There were no windows and, unlike when Cara and Lacey had been here, there was no furniture, nothing he could use as a weapon. Wards covered every inch of floor, ceiling and wall, blocking his admittedly minimal power from unlocking the only door into the room. He’d never been trained in spell casting, though he knew a few basic ones such as fire-starting and metal manipulation. The
Mal
had others to do their dirty work.

Michael had always been a numbers guy. That’s where he worked his magic, with spreadsheets and accounts, stocks and bonds.

The last few years on the run, though, had taught him about strategy other than maneuvering a board of directors determined not to sell their company into taking exactly what the
Mal
offered them for it.

Bennett was counting on breaking him, on getting Michael to talk, to tell him where he’d stashed Cara. Or whom he’d sold her to.

The man he was now would never break. He’d die for her, for
Aron
.

But Bennett didn’t know that. And he knew nothing about the de
Feo
brothers.

They would come with Cara, they would protect her with their lives. And they were warriors. Not just brainless muscle.

Still, Michael was used to taking care of his own messes. And he didn’t want Cara within a hundred miles of this place.

He wanted Bennett dead. He wanted to kill Bennett with his own hands. He needed a plan to do that. He needed a weapon. Bennett wouldn’t expect that.

Before, Michael had never been a physical person. The four men he’d already killed had disappeared. He’d left no trace of them so Bennett had no idea that he’d killed them all with a knife and his hands.

Michael had become a damn good warrior in the past year. A smart one. He could take Bennett.
If
the guy didn’t come accessorized with goons. One he could handle. Two… He didn’t trust those odds, not with the pain he was still experiencing from the separation from Cara.

The pain was more manageable now but still made it hard to think clearly. Cara would be on her way. If she hadn’t already pinpointed his location, probably using a spell and
Aron’s
blood, then they would soon.

And she’d come for him.

He needed to neutralize at least some of the threat before she got there.

He needed to talk to Bennett, find out how many other men he had in the building and if he could take out at least one of them before Cara arrived.

He stood, letting his expression exaggerate the pain still coursing through his body, then started to pace. He figured someone was watching him so he dragged his left leg a little, as if it was injured.

He circled the room a few times, stopped to stare at the wall. He’d promised Cara he’d make her life better or die trying. Seemed the second option looked like the better bet at the moment.

Aron
—

No. Damn it, he wasn’t dead yet. He was a hell of a lot smarter and stronger than Bennett gave him credit for. And he wasn’t thinking along the narrow lines most
Mal
subscribed to.

He had something to live for that was more important than money or possessions.

But Bennett didn’t know that. Bennett probably thought Michael was running his own version of Bennett’s game. Or that Michael kept Cara as his own personal sex slave.

Bennett probably figured if he applied enough pressure, Michael would crack and give him what he wanted.

Well, Bennett was going to get more than he bargained for.

He paced a while longer then stopped by the far wall, away from the door. He let his expression dissolve into resignation, let his shoulders drop and his head fall forward against the beige wall.

Finally, he slid down the wall and let his head fall back to stare at the ceiling.

They’d taken his watch so he had no idea how much time he’d spent in there but he knew Cara would be on her way sooner rather than later.

Finally, he rose, squared his shoulders and walked to the door.

“Bennett.” He didn’t raise his voice. He knew they could hear him. “I want to talk.”

It took several minutes but finally the door swung open and one of the goons appeared.

“Take me to Bennett.” Michael sighed, trying to submerge his fury under a layer of defeat. “I’ll tell him where to find the girl. Tell him I can pretty much guarantee to deliver her right to him.”

* * * * *

“Are you sure you’re up for this?”
Teo
asked for the third time. “If you’re right about where they’re holding him, then you don’t need to go. It could be a trap. He was too easy to pinpoint, Cara. It’s almost like they’re daring you to come to him.”

Cara had almost hyperventilated when the spell pinpointed the building in New York where Michael was being held.

Where she and Lacey had spent almost ten years of their lives as sex slaves.

She should have known or at least suspected that that was where they would take him. The
Mal
were sometimes too obvious. The scene of Michael’s crime would be the scene of his death. That’s how the
Mal
thought.