Midnight Untamed Page 3

  Fortunately, he had another plan.

  Lifting Bella over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, he dashed to the other side of her suite where a large window overlooked the circular driveway below. A handful of armed guards scurried across the cobbled bricks, some heading into the mansion as backup while others fanned out to patrol the surrounding grounds.

  The odds of getting past the security detail down there weren’t great, but they were a hell of a lot better than charging into the fray inside the villa.

  Lifting the glass with a mental command, he swung his legs over the sill, then dropped to the ground with Bella held securely in his arms.

  He threw another psychic order at the nearest vehicle, smiling to himself when the V12 engine of the blue Pagani rumbled to life. The gullwing doors lifted and Savage hurried over to slip Bella into the passenger seat and fasten her in.

  One of the perimeter patrol guards spotted him and shouted the alarm to the others. Bullets rang out from all directions. Savage dodged the incoming fire, diving into the driver’s seat of the sleek sports car and dropping the doors. Throwing the vehicle into gear, he sped away from the villa just as Massioni and several of his lieutenants came pouring out behind him.

  Savage already had the detonator in hand, the safety switched off.

  He pushed the trigger on it, watching in the rearview mirror as a sudden fireball ignited and the whole place exploded against the night sky. The percussion made the Pagani jump on the pavement, but he held the wheel and pushed the pedal to the floor.

  He couldn’t deny his satisfaction at seeing the fiery plume and cloud of black, roiling smoke behind him. He only hoped the explosives did the job as intended. Ordinarily, he’d stick around to make sure his target was neutralized, but not tonight.

  Not with precious cargo in tow.

  His gaze strayed to Bella. Slumped in her red silk gown on the seat beside him, she slept as peacefully as a kitten, her mind still caught in the web of the trance he’d placed on her. The urge to touch her was too much to resist. Reaching over, he smoothed an errant blonde tendril from her cheek.

  Damn, she was even lovelier than he recalled. No longer the coltish Breedmate girl who’d been his best friend’s sister. No longer the tomboy teenager who used to delight in racing through the cultivated fields of her family’s vineyard, but a twenty-eight-year-old woman with a refined beauty that stirred everything male in him.

  Not to mention his blood.

  Memories of a night ten years ago came to life in his mind in vivid, erotic detail. Her warm, naked skin against his. Her sweet, breathless cries as he tasted every virgin inch of her beautiful body.

  Her trusting, open-hearted gaze as he made love to her for the first—and only—time.

  How she must have hated him…after.

  He’d despised himself enough for both of them. If he’d been in the least to blame for pushing Bella toward another man—especially one like Vito Massioni—he would never forgive himself.

  And if he wanted to pretend he had forgotten her even for a moment during the past decade, seeing her beside him now was as if all that time had simply evaporated.

  He didn’t know what he was going to do with her now. She sure as fuck hadn’t been part of the equation when he’d set out on tonight’s mission, but seeing her again had changed everything. Once he had spotted her inside the villa, nothing would have kept him from making sure she was safe.

  Not even Bella herself could have stopped him.

  So much for a simple operation going according to plan.

  Savage forced his gaze away from her and put both hands back on the wheel. His eyes trained on the road, he buried the Pagani’s accelerator and headed for the highway that would take them back to Rome.

  Chapter 4

  Bella couldn’t wake from the sleep that cocooned her.

  Nor did she want to.

  Warm fingers stroked the side of her face as she slept, soothing her with a touch that was both sheltering and enticing. So strong. So infinitely gentle.

  Ettore’s touch.

  Her senses knew it, even if her mind struggled to comprehend. His caress felt like a dream, but it was real. As real as he was, seated close enough to her that his scent filled her lungs with each waking breath she drew.

  No, this was no dream.

  This was something deeper than sleep.

  Her head felt thick, as if her mind were cushioned in cotton.

  Then she remembered. The shock of seeing Ettore inside Massioni’s villa. Her dread at learning what he had come there to do.

  She remembered him insisting that she leave with him, go somewhere safe. When she refused, he had reached up to touch her brow…

  He’d tranced her!

  Outrage speared through her. The sudden jolt of adrenaline and fury helped shake off the loose threads of the fading trance. She opened her eyes and found Ettore glancing at her. His handsome face and solemn hazel eyes held her gaze in the dim light of the vehicle’s dashboard.

  Beneath her, the low purr of an engine vibrated.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, drawing his hand away from her face now.

  She instantly missed the warmth, despite the alarm that was flooding her veins.

  “What are you doing?” She dragged herself out of her slump in the soft leather seat. On the other side of the passenger window, the nighttime landscape was a blur. Jesus, Ettore was driving like a bat out of hell. She swung an anxious look behind them. “Where’s Massioni?”

  “Don’t worry about him. He was mine to deal with. And I did.”

  Fresh horror swamped her. “You killed him?”

  Ettore looked at her, his expression grim. “I hope so, but there wasn’t time to verify that.”

  Oh, God. No. “Where are we going?”

  A frown creased his brow. “I’m taking you to Rome, Bella. You’ll be safest at the Order’s command center there. My comrades and I will make sure of that.”

  The Order. As shocked as she was to realize the golden, charming young man she had known all those years ago now made his living dealing in violence and death as a member of that lethal organization, she also knew that no one—not even the Order—could protect her from the worst of Vito Massioni’s threats.

  For all she knew, it was already too late.

  “Let me out of here, Ettore. Let me out right now.”

  “What do you mean, let you out?” He gaped at her as if she had lost her mind. “Sweetheart, we’re going a hundred and twenty miles an hour.”

  “I have to go back. Please, Ettore!”

  Overcome with worry, she fumbled with her seatbelt, unfastening it and tearing it away from her body. She had to get out of the car and go back to beg Massioni’s forgiveness.

  If he was still alive.

  Dear God, don’t let him be dead.

  Don’t let her family be killed because of her failure to protect them.

  A sob raked her throat. “Goddammit, I said stop this fucking car!”

  He slowed the growling sports car and eased off the empty highway to the shoulder. As soon as the vehicle stopped, she leaped out. She paused only long enough to toss her high heels into the grass, then started running the opposite way on the rough gravel that edged the pavement.

  Ettore’s curse exploded behind her. “What the hell are you doing?”

  He caught up to her instantly, gifted with Breed genetics that made him faster than any other creature on the planet. He blocked her path, his big male body filling her vision and all of her senses. When she tried to dodge him, his hands came down firmly on her shoulders, holding her still.

  “Talk to me, Arabella. Tell me what this is about.”

  “My family.” She couldn’t contain the shiver that rocked her when she thought about what they might be enduring because of her, possibly at this very moment. “Massioni promised me that if anything ever happened to him, he’d have them killed.”

  Ettore’s scowl deepened. “Your father might hav
e something to say about that. Your brother, Consalvo, too.”

  She gazed up at him, shaking her head in misery. “My father’s dead. So is Sal. I guess you didn’t know. How would you, right? You left and never looked back.”

  He flinched as if her words stung as much as a slap. Yet when he spoke, there was only quiet, patient concern in his deep voice. “What happened?”

  “It was Sal,” she said, still wounded by her brother’s fall from grace—and the betrayal that followed. “Three years ago, my father made the mistake of turning over the vineyard to Sal. Things didn’t go very well. He was careless with the books. Worse than careless. None of us realized how deeply in debt the business was—or why—until Sal’s mate, Chiara, confided in me about his gambling. She was worried for him, and for the future of their infant son. But it was already too late. Sal got mixed up with bad people, the worst of them being Vito Massioni.”

  Ettore blew out a sharp curse. “The idiot. Sallie owed him money?”

  “A lot of money. More than any of us could pay. By the time we learned what he’d done, Massioni was out of patience. He tortured Sal, nearly killed him.” Bella took a fortifying breath. “My brother was scared and desperate, in fear for his life. He couldn’t have been thinking clearly… At least, that’s what I’ve had to tell myself in order to forgive him for what he did to me.”

  She watched Ettore’s eyes darken with grave understanding. “Your brother is the reason you’re with Massioni?”

  She nodded. “Vito showed up at our Darkhaven one night, along with a dozen armed men. He wasn’t there to negotiate. The men shot my father in front of all of us. Sal was going to be next. He made all kinds of promises, offered to give Massioni the house, the vineyard—everything he could think of. None of it appealed to Vito, of course. He had plenty of property, plenty of money. Then Sal looked at me.”

  “No.” Ettore’s voice dropped to a low growl. “Jesus, he didn’t.”

  Bella swallowed. “Sal told him about my gift for scrying. He told Massioni to imagine how much richer he could be if he had the ability to see the future. Sal promised that I was worth ten times as much as the debt he owed. In the end, I’m sure he was right. Massioni took me away that night, after giving his men the order to kill Sal.”

  Ettore’s eyes were no longer dark, but crackling with shards of amber that ignited with his rage. As he spoke, the tips of his fangs glinted bright white behind his lips. “That cowardly son of a bitch. If your brother were alive right now, I’d fucking kill him myself.” He reached up to touch her face and she could feel the power of his fury beneath the tenderness of his fingers.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. I did what I had to in order to survive. Chiara and my little nephew are what matter most to me. They’re the reason I stayed with Massioni. He held their lives ransom to make sure I never crossed him or tried to get away.”

  “Well, he can’t hurt anyone now,” Ettore said. “As of tonight, Vito Massioni’s either dead or damned close to it.”

  “No. You don’t understand.” She stepped back, shaking her head. She wished she could stand there all night under the warmth of his caress, but her dread was only intensifying by the moment. “You don’t realize what you’ve done, Ettore. He gave instructions to his entire criminal network to hunt down Chiara and Pietro if anything ever happened to him. If he’s dead, so are they. Or they will be soon.”

  Ettore studied her for a moment before hissing a tight curse. “Your brother’s widow and her boy—are they still at the vineyard?”

  She nodded.

  “Fuck. That’s three hours in the other direction.” He stared at her, grim but resolute. “If we push it, the Pagani should get us there in under two.”

  “Does that mean you’ll help me?”

  “To my last breath, Arabella.” He cupped her face in his strong palm, his eyes blazing with determination and something deeper. Something that lit a dormant hope in her chest and made her veins tingle with heat.

  She knew he felt the same kindling of emotion too. It was there in his glittering eyes, and in the lengthening points of his fangs.

  He may have abandoned her without explanation a decade ago, but all of the attraction and need that had existed between them was still there. Still burning inside both of them.

  “Come on,” he said after a long moment, his voice rough. “We’d better go.”

  Chapter 5

  They made it to Potenza in just under two hours, thanks to clear late-night roadways and the seven hundred horses at work inside the Pagani’s massive engine.

  Savage turned onto a narrow two-lane and headed for the Genova family vineyard even before Bella pointed to give him directions. He had been born in the same southern province of Italy, and, like her, he had spent the better part of his youth traipsing around the volcanic soil foothills of the region’s imposing Mount Vulture.

  Unlike Bella, however, he had no family of his own. Whoever his parents were, they’d been gone from his life soon after he was born. Abandoned when he was just a baby, he’d been raised in one Darkhaven orphanage after another until he was old enough to take care of himself.

  He thought he’d found something close to family when he met Bella’s brother, Consalvo, at university and the two became fast friends. He had regarded Sal like a brother, helped work the vineyard with the family as if it was his own.

  For a long time, he had actually believed he’d found someplace to belong.

  He had belonged…until his desire for Arabella had been found out and he’d been informed by her father that he was no longer welcome there.

  Not good enough for his daughter.

  Bella deserved something better.

  Hell, Savage wouldn’t argue that, even now.

  But as he glanced over at her and watched her lovely face turn ashen with dread on their approach to the long gravel drive that led to the homestead at the base of the mountain, he felt a wave of possessiveness—and protectiveness—he could not deny.

  And he felt guilt too.

  For leaving her the way he had, for letting her think he didn’t care.

  For not being present to ensure that she never knew a moment of pain or heartache or fear.

  All the things he could see playing across her features now.

  Because of him.

  She sucked in a sharp breath when she spotted the ominous-looking, empty black sedan parked halfway up the drive to the rambling villa. “Oh, no. Ettore, we’re too late.”

  He clamped his molars tight, holding back the curse that leaped to his tongue. She was right. It didn’t look good.

  A plan formed in his head—a risky one, but the best option he had.

  He didn’t dare ditch the car with Bella inside it, and damned if he was going to let her out of his sight for as much as a second.

  “Slide down as far as you can,” he told her. “Don’t move, Bella. Not unless I tell you to.”

  She shot him an anxious glance but did as he instructed.

  He swept off his black knit skullcap and tossed it aside. Instead of keeping his cautious pace up the meandering drive, Savage gunned the engine, letting the tires chew up the dirt and dust as he roared all the way to the homestead.

  Up ahead in the dark, a pair of Breed thugs in black suits were prowling the perimeter of the house and surrounding grounds. Shit. They were both carrying semiautomatic pistols and looking short on patience. Maybe that was a good thing where Bella’s family members were concerned.

  Savage threw the Pagani into park but left the engine running. Since his attire could raise questions he didn’t want to answer, he would have to employ his unique brand of obfuscation in order to get him past the other males’ suspicion.

  Using the Breed ability that served him well in his stealth line of work, he conjured an illusion that turned his tactical gear into a black suit and altered his face and hair color. Then he pulled his own semiauto 9mm and climbed out of the car as if he had every right to be there.

&nbs
p; “Jesus Christ,” he muttered loudly as he stalked toward the goateed man out front. “Where the fuck are the other guys?”

  The henchman scowled. “What other guys? Far as I know, me and Luigi were the only ones called out for this job. Who the hell are you?”

  “Backup,” Savage said, giving the man a look of disdain. He called out to the second man, a thick-necked mountain of a male who was just coming around from the rear of the farmhouse. “What the fuck’s taking you so long, Luigi? You find that bitch and her brat back there?”

  Luigi shook his head as he started jogging over to meet them. “Not yet. They must’ve cleared out before we got here.”

  Savage grunted. “Good.”

  He popped a round into each man’s skull before either of them could react. The two would-be killers dead on the ground, he jogged back to the Pagani. Arabella was still hunkered down on the floor in front of the passenger seat like he’d instructed her. Good girl.

  He opened the door. “It’s okay. Chiara and your nephew aren’t here and the two men sent to find them won’t be looking for them anymore.”

  “Thank God.” She lifted her head, pushing herself up to peer into the darkness where Massioni’s men lay unmoving in the grass near the house. “But Chiara wouldn’t have known to run away. There wouldn’t have been time to get very far, especially with a three-year-old in tow.” She glanced up at him, worry—and a small glimmer of hope—in her soft brown eyes. “But I think I might know where they are.”

  Savage held out his hand to assist her from the car. Gathering up the long skirt of her dress, she ran past the dead Breed males with Savage at her side. They entered the sacked villa and she headed immediately for the sampling room at the back of the expansive house. An immense wine cellar was attached to the room, its floor-to-ceiling wine racks filled with bottles of nearly every vintage the vineyard had ever produced.

  “Over here,” Bella said, walking to the far wall.

  The bottles housed in those racks looked to be the oldest in the collection. Most of them were covered in a fine layer of dust. Pulling a sliding wooden ladder toward her, she climbed up and reached for one of the highest bottles in the old rack. Instead of pulling the aged bottle of Aglianico out, she twisted it clockwise.