Midnight Untamed Read online

  It wasn’t a bottle. It was a lever to a secret chamber.

  One narrow section of racked wine popped open soundlessly.

  Bella swung a glance over her shoulder at him. “My father had this panic room installed during the wars after First Dawn twenty years ago.”

  She started to duck inside. Savage caught her by the arm. “Stay close to me, Bella. If anything happens to you, I couldn’t…”

  He let the thought trail, but his touch lingered longer than necessary. She gave him a curious look, then nodded.

  They stepped inside the unlit, cavernous room. Large oak barrels, shelves of paper supplies, and chunky, hand-hewn wooden tables made the secret chamber appear to be nothing more remarkable than a workroom for the vineyard.

  Bella reached to turn on a light switch just inside. “Chiara?” she called softly. “Are you in here? It’s me, Arabella.”

  A small whimper sounded from somewhere behind the barrels. Then a petite, pretty brunette emerged from the shadows, her dark-haired toddler son held protectively in her arms. “Bella!”

  The two women raced to each other, embracing amid Chiara’s tears and Bella’s quiet assurances that she and Pietro were okay now. That they were safe.

  Savage stood back from the emotional reunion, all too conscious of the fact that every minute they delayed here was one more minute they risked being discovered. They were fortunate that only two of Massioni’s henchmen had been dispatched to the vineyard. That didn’t mean there wouldn’t be more sent to sniff around and make sure the job was finished.

  The dead Breed males in the yard would be ashed by the morning sun, but whoever sent them would be waiting for them to return or report in.

  And now that he was thinking about daylight…

  It was late, and all too soon it would be dawn. They were too far afield to make the drive back to the command center before the sun rose and ashed him, too, which meant he needed to find them somewhere secure to settle in for the night.

  Grabbing his phone, Savage called the scrambled line at the Order in Rome to apprise them of the situation. He’d already ignored more than one call from base demanding the status of the mission. He’d have hell to pay when he got back, no doubt. Probably right now too.

  Trygg’s dark growl greeted him on the other end. “Having a good time out there?”

  Savage grunted. “There’s been a slight change of plans.”

  “No shit? Was that before or after you jeopardized the entire mission in order to chase after some former tail?”

  Okay, so maybe he deserved that. He definitely deserved it. But Trygg didn’t understand, and Savage didn’t have time to explain it right now. “Her name’s Arabella Genova. I had to go back in for her and get her out of there. You’re going to have to trust me on that.”

  “Not my trust you need to worry about,” Trygg said. “Commander Archer’s on a call with Lucan Thorne in D.C. as we speak. They weren’t happy to hear you went AWOL in the middle of an op.”

  “Yeah, well, I got the job done.”

  “You sure about that? You verified Massioni blew up with his villa, right?” When Savage let the question hang a second too long, Trygg hissed a low curse. “You didn’t verify. Jesus, Savage. I hope to fuck she’s worth it, man.”

  He glanced over at Bella. Yeah, she was worth it. Her life—the relief and happiness he saw in her face right now—was worth everything.

  “If I fucked up with Massioni, I’ll handle it. Right now, I need to find a safe house for the day. I’ve got two Breedmates and a three-year-old Breed male with me here in Potenza right now. I need to make sure they’re somewhere secure.”

  “Two females and a kid? I’m not gonna ask,” Trygg muttered. He went silent for a moment, then heaved a surly sigh. “How far are you from Matera?”

  Savage knew the town, had prowled the ancient streets and subterranean caverns of the old settlement more than a few times in his youth. “It’s not far. An hour, give or take.”

  “Get there. I know somewhere you can go.” Trygg gave him quick instructions, landmarks to guide him to where he needed to go once he arrived. From the sound of it, his comrade wasn’t sending him into the touristy heart of the historic town, but down into the Paleolithic sassi—the neighborhood of ancient limestone caves that clung to the steep walls of Matera’s central ravine. “Take the old stone steps behind the church. Follow the path on the left. Someone will be waiting to meet you and take you to a safe shelter.”

  “Who am I looking for?”

  “A Breed male with long black hair and obsidian eyes. His name is Scythe.”

  “Scythe? Sounds like a real hospitable guy.”

  “You didn’t ask for hospitable. You asked for someplace secure, and that’s where I’m sending you.”

  “Point taken,” Savage drawled, reminded that Trygg was nothing if not literal. The deadly, unsociable male dealt in absolutes, whether it came to combat or conversation. “What I’m saying is, you’re sure about this male, this Scythe?”

  “Completely.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  There was a long silence, then Trygg finally said, “He’s my brother.”

  Chapter 6

  Bella hated to let go of Chiara and Pietro, but Ettore’s grave look as he ended his call to the Order left no question that they weren’t totally out of danger yet.

  “Come on,” he said, walking over to collect them. “We can’t delay here much longer. It’s best if we get moving.”

  “Back to Rome?”

  “There isn’t time for that now. It’ll be daylight in a few hours. My driving skills tend to suffer when I’m crispy.”

  She smiled wanly, but it was hard to find any humor in the risks he was taking for her tonight. For all of them now. And she could tell from the tone of his voice that the urgency to move on wasn’t motivated only by his Breed aversion to ultraviolet rays. His concern went deeper than that.

  “You think he’s still alive, don’t you?”

  A tendon pulsed in Ettore’s square jaw. “If he’s not dead, I promise you I won’t rest until he is. But first I need to make sure you and your family are somewhere secure. My comrade in Rome is arranging for someone to meet us in Matera. We’ll have shelter there for as long as we need it.”

  As Bella and Ettore spoke, Chiara stepped forward with her young son clutching her hand.

  Ettore glanced at the boy who was looking up at him warily. He crouched down to his level and placed his hand lightly on the child’s shoulder. “You were very brave, keeping your mother safe in here until we arrived. Good work, Pietro.”

  He nodded shyly at the praise, and Bella’s heart squeezed to see the little boy’s fear melt away under Ettore’s gentle treatment of him.

  “How long will we need to stay away?” Chiara asked hesitantly.

  Ettore’s gaze met Bella’s as he stood up. She knew that heavy look, what it meant. The two killers who’d shown up tonight hadn’t succeeded, thanks to him, but it was almost certain there would be more behind them. The old vineyard and the rambling house where Bella was raised might never be safe again. Then again, it hadn’t truly been safe in years. Not since Massioni entered their lives.

  Combing her fingers gently through her little nephew’s dark hair, Bella met Chiara’s gaze. “We’ll figure all of that out later. Right now, we need to do what Ettore says, okay?”

  “Yes, of course. May I gather a few things for Pietro before we go? I promise I’ll hurry.”

  Ettore nodded and Bella glanced down at her red gown and bare feet. “I don’t suppose you have anything in your closet that would fit me, do you?”

  Chiara smiled warmly. “You can look for something in your own closet, sorella. I kept your room just as it was on the day you were taken, in the hopes that you would come home again one day.”

  The kindness of that gesture—the sisterly love from her brother’s widow—put a lump in Bella’s throat. “Thank you.”

  She pulled Chiara int
o a brief hug before Ettore brought them all out of the panic room and back into the empty villa to prepare to leave.

  A few minutes later, Bella was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and flats and a black T-shirt. Chiari held Pietro in one arm, a small bag containing his favorite blanket and toys and sundry other necessities slung over her other arm. Ettore took the bag from her and headed outside, leading the way.

  “We have to leave the Pagani,” he said, bypassing the two-seater sports car. “There’s not enough room in it, but we also need to avoid drawing attention. I don’t like the idea of taking Massioni’s men’s vehicle, but I can ditch it after we get to Matera in case anyone’s looking for it.”

  “I’ve got a truck out back,” Chiara said. She pointed to the barn behind the house. “It’s not fast, but it’ll get us where we’re going. And it’s plain enough that it won’t turn any heads along the way.”

  Ettore considered for a moment, then shrugged. “Sounds better than our other options.”

  They retrieved the rust-spotted old pickup truck and climbed in, Bella sandwiched on the narrow bench seat between Ettore and Chiara and Pietro.

  It was impossible to ignore the heat of Ettore’s thigh pressed against hers as they drove off into the thinning darkness. Being this close to him again, her senses overwhelmed with the warmth and strength and scent of him, Bella knew a contentment—a feeling of security—that had eluded her for so long she hadn’t recalled what it was like to feel safe and protected.

  She hardly realized how badly she’d craved that feeling until now. With him.

  Chiara and Pietro must have felt some degree of safety now too. They had both dozed off just a few minutes into the drive. No doubt the late hour and the stress of what they’d endured tonight had left them exhausted, but Bella knew their peaceful breathing had much to do with the man who’d surely saved their lives.

  Bella glanced at Ettore in the soft light of the old truck’s dashboard. His eyes were fixed on the open road, one hand slung over the top of the steering wheel. He seemed deep in his own thoughts until the weight of her gaze drew his attention. He looked her way, and although she was embarrassed to be caught staring at him, she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t been.

  “Thank you for helping them,” she said quietly. “Thank you for helping all of us tonight.”

  He gave a small shake of his head. “There’s no need to thank me, Bella. I would do anything for you. Don’t you know that?”

  No, she didn’t know that. For all she knew, she’d meant absolutely nothing to him. Not ten years ago. Certainly not all this time later. “Why did you do it, Ettore? Why did you leave and never come back? Was it because of something I did?”

  “No.” His answer came swiftly, his brows furrowing in a scowl. “Christ, no. You didn’t do anything at all. Tell me that’s not what they let you believe…”

  “They?” A sick feeling opened up in the pit of her stomach. “You mean my family? You mean my father and Sal?”

  His silent stare was confirmation enough.

  “Tell me,” she prompted. “What did they do?”

  He glanced back at the road. “They were only looking out for your best interests, Bella. They noticed we were growing closer—they noticed my interest in you as a woman—and your father wasn’t pleased. Neither was Sal, actually.”

  “Are you saying they pushed you away? No… Surely they would not. Are you saying they didn’t want us together, so they forced us apart?”

  Anger clawed up the back of her throat. She could hardly stand the thought of what their interference had caused her. To think she had wept over her father’s murder. To think she had wept for Sal, even after he’d betrayed her to Vito Massioni.

  But selling her out to that criminal thug hurt less than knowing the two men she trusted the most all her life had actually betrayed her even more egregiously long before then, when they stole her chance at a future with Ettore.

  He slanted her a sober look. “They loved you, Arabella. Your father wanted to make sure you found a male who could provide for you, give you all the things you deserved in life. Your father and Sal both wanted only what was best for you.”

  Her answering scoff was brittle. “Look how that turned out.”

  “They couldn’t have known how things would end up,” he gently assured her. “But I wish I had known. I wish the Order had been on to Vito Massioni years ago, so I could’ve killed the bastard before he had the chance to lay a hand on you.”

  “It could’ve been worse,” she admitted quietly. “I endured his temper sometimes, but at least I avoided his lust.”

  When Ettore glanced at her, there was surprise in his gaze, and more than a little relief. “You mean, he never—”

  “Never,” she said. “I told him my gift for scrying would only last as long as I was a virgin. Since I made him wealthy with my visions, he apparently decided he enjoyed collecting his money more than he would enjoy abusing me.”

  He smirked. “Clever girl. Except for one thing.”

  She felt a blush creep over her cheeks at the reminder.

  She wasn’t a virgin. She had given that part of her to Ettore. It had been their one and only time together.

  The next night, he was gone.

  “Fortunately, Massioni never doubted me. I think he might’ve eventually, but he had other women to slake his needs.”

  “Thank God,” Ettore muttered. He frowned, his hazel gaze turbulent with stifled fury. “What about your visions, Bella? Did you never see any hint of your brother’s troubles in your scrying bowl?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t see visions that relate to myself or the people I care for. My ability has never worked like that.”

  Which was why she’d never seen Ettore either, although it hadn’t stopped her from trying to find him with her gift over the years he’d been gone. But her scrying had never found him.

  Not even as he’d planned for and carried out his attack on Vito Massioni.

  She dearly hoped Ettore had been successful, because if Massioni were alive to get his hands on her now, his punishment would be beyond brutal.

  Ettore’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “I never should’ve agreed to leave, no matter what your family wanted. It wasn’t their decision to make. I didn’t understand that until after I was gone.” He reached over and stroked her cheek. “I should’ve come back for you, Bella. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

  She turned into his caress, feeling no animosity toward him, only gratitude. And an affection that went far deeper than that.

  Far deeper than the desire she felt simply for being seated so closely beside him, his comforting touch lingering against her face.

  “You’re here now,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his palm.

  His eyes flickered with sparks of amber light as her lips met his skin. She only meant the contact to be one of gratefulness and caring, but she felt the jolt of awareness too.

  Her chest tightened, heat spreading across her breasts, licking down to her core.

  Oh, yes, she still cared for him.

  She wanted him.

  Memories of stolen kisses and secret, tender embraces filled her head. She’d had only one night with Ettore, naked in each other’s arms, but she had held it close to her heart ever since.

  Neither the cruelty of time nor fate had diminished anything she felt for him. To the contrary, it had only made the craving deepen. It had only made her recognize how keenly she had felt his loss all this time.

  And how profoundly happy she was to be reunited with him now.

  Even if in a shadowed corner of her heart she dreaded that fate wasn’t nearly finished with them yet.

  Chapter 7

  Savage didn’t know how he’d managed to endure more than an hour in the truck, seated so close to Bella. Her thigh had rested against his the whole trip, contact that had distracted him, soothed him…aroused him beyond reason.

  It sent his mind spinning back in time,
to another evening drive they’d taken together on vineyard business. The one that had ended with both of them undressed and tangled together on a blanket under a midnight blue sky streaked with shooting stars.

  “Come on, Ettore! Isn’t it amazing?”

  She grabbed a bottle of the newest Aglianico from the wooden cases in back of the truck and started running up the side of the nearby hill. He watched her go, her long legs bare and her curvy backside clad in grape-stained, faded denim shorts. He was always in a state of arousal around her, but seeing her dance away from him under the thin moon glow turned his cock to granite.

  “Bella, you’d better come back. I don’t think this is a good idea.” Nevertheless, he pulled an old wool blanket from behind the seat and jogged after her.

  She helped him spread it out on the cool grass, then pulled him down next to her. “Here, open this.” She handed him the bottle and a corkscrew.

  “I don’t drink wine,” he reminded her as he pulled the cork out with a soft pop. None of his kind did, but she knew that well enough.

  “Do you ever wish you could? Even a taste?”

  “No.” He had never craved wine, but then he watched her tip the bottle to her lips to take a sip and he knew a thirst unlike any he’d ever known. Her throat worked as she swallowed, her head tipped back, drawing his eyes to the creamy column of her neck.

  He cleared his throat, searching for his voice as his fangs punched out of his gums and his vision began to fire with amber. “Your father and Sal are expecting us back at the vineyard.”

  She slowly brought the bottle down from her mouth and set it in the grass. Her lips were wet, as dark as cherries from the wine. Long black lashes framed the solemn pools of her eyes. “Do you want to go, Ettore?”

  He knew it as the chance it was—his only hope to stop this need for Bella before it went too far. They had been circling this moment for weeks. Hell, from the moment he first walked on to the Genova property.