Dark Series - Dark Dream Part 21

Antonietta said. "Maybe between the two of us, we can speed her recovery. As for Marita, she seems to be obsessed with Margurite becoming a great scholar and is forgetting to allow her to be a child. She was never like this before."

"That's true," Tasha agreed. She sighed. "Honestly, Antonietta, everything seems to be falling apart all of a sudden. Tonight, I asked Helena to have a tray brought for Nonno, and he seemed reluctant to eat the food. He was muttering to himself, and I swear, he said I was trying to poison him. He denied it when I confronted him, but I swear that's what he said, and he didn't touch the food. The crazy part is, Paul did the exact same thing. I took the tray up to his room myself, and he threw it against the wall and said I was trying to poison him." She waved her arms. "I don't know how you put up with them all. Two minutes later, he was acting like I dropped the tray."

"Why would you take the food personally to your grandfather and cousin?" Byron demanded. "You have never done such a thing in your life."

Tasha glared at him. "I was trying to take Antonietta's place. Nonno was so upset, and he hadn't eaten all day, so I insisted on a food tray for him."

"Where is the food? Was it taken to the kitchen?" Byron nearly growled the question. Antonietta turned her head sharply toward him in inquiry.

Tasha shrugged. "How would I know? I certainly didn't clean either mess myself, I had Helena handle it. I doubt if they kept the food. It must have gone in the garbage can." She lifted her eyebrow. "Surely you're not hungry. And if you are, please don't eat from the trash. We do have decent food elsewhere."

"Your truces do not last long, do they Tasha?"

"Not when you behave like a moron." She looked down her nose at him. "I often do good deeds around the palazzo. Why wouldn't I?"

Antonietta decided to intervene. "What of Enrico? Has there been any word on our missing chef?" She casually tucked her hand into Byron's arm to hold him to her side. The moment he had heard of Don Giovanni's and Paul's strange behavior, she sensed he knew what their actions meant. Tell me.

Let me go to the kitchen and do a little investigating first.

You think the food had poison in it, don't you? How could either of them possibly know such a thing?

"Enrico is still missing. The wonderful captain was here, but of course we couldn't allow him to know what had transpired, so we entertained him briefly, allowed him to search Enrico's room again, and he left." There was regret in Tasha's voice. "He's quite nice, Antonietta. And he loves the opera. I told him that for your next performance, I would try to get him good seats, and he said only if I attended with him."

"Did you keep him away from Paul?"

"Paul wouldn't come out of his room except to speak with Don Giovanni. He wouldn't see Franco or me, but Justine was in and out several times. I wasn't about to allow the captain near him. Paul was so upset, I was afraid he'd turn himself in." Tasha glanced warily at Byron. "You aren't really going to go to the authorities, are you?"

"No, Tasha, I have no intentions of turning your brother in."

"Grazie, you are a good man to be so kind."

"Do not mistake my intentions for kindness." There was a distinct bite to Byron's voice, and for a moment his teeth gleamed white like that of a wolf. A fierce flame burned in the depths of his eyes, giving his pupils the illusion of a fiery red.

Tasha gasped and stepped away from him, her hand going to her throat protectively. She blinked the illusion away, feeling foolish when there were only Byron's familiar dark eyes glinting at her. Watching her. Without blinking. Much like that of a predator. She s.h.i.+vered, afraid all over again.

Beside Antonietta, Celt lowered his head, his eyes focusing on Byron, his hair up. The ever-present supreme hunter.

Antonietta put her hand on Tasha's shoulder. "What is it? And don't say 'Nothing.' " Gently she touched the dog's head in a gesture meant to soothe. "Celt senses something. A wild animal perhaps." Do you smell the cat, Byron?

Tasha hesitated. "I'm being silly. For a moment Byron frightened me. He reminded me of a..." She trailed off. She could hardly say wolf.Byron bowed from the waist. "I did not mean to alarm you, Tasha. I just do not want you to get the wrong impression. Paul nearly killed Antonietta. If he is the one behind the attacks, he will not get away with it. I will see to it personally. And if he proves to be innocent and someone else has targeted her, I will find them." Celt smells the shape-s.h.i.+fter in me. Do not worry. There is no danger near us.

Byron wasn't bragging, Tasha decided, he wasn't even threatening. He meant every word and uttered each with absolute conviction. The thought set her heart pounding. There was retribution buried in his tone.

"I will go down to the kitchen to investigate and then meet the two of you in Margurite's room." Celt, forgive me, my friend, the wolf comes out in me at the thought of Antonietta in danger. Byron placed his palm in front of the dog's nose, allowing him to catch the mixed scent.

The dog's alert posture changed immediately, the tension draining from the animal, although he stayed protectively close to Antonietta. She stroked the dog's head with caressing fingers. "Celt is already such a part of my life, I can't imagine what I did without him," Antonietta said.

"He's so devoted to you," Tasha observed, "but he's so big and sort of scary. We've never had a dog in the palazzo.

Margurite will love him. Is he good with children?"

"Celt loves children. A borzoi is a great family addition. A companion and protector. Believe me, the children will come to love him," Byron a.s.sured her. He reached out to scratch Celt's ears. His hand brushed Antonietta's. Instantly, electricity sizzled and arced between them. The s.e.xual tension in the room was shattering.

Antonietta rubbed her body along his, a contented cat, stretching leisurely. Byron bent his head to hers. Heat raced over Antonietta's skin, spread through her body instantly.

She wrapped her arms around Byron's neck, her mouth melding to his. The world was gone in an instant. There was only heat and fire and the feel of his hard, masculine frame pressed so tightly to hers.

Tasha's gaze narrowed in disgust, bored into their backs. She made a soft hissing noise of distaste. Byron swung An-tonietta around, moving her toward the stained gla.s.s window even as he seemed to be devouring her, feeding on her mouth with voracious hunger. Tasha blinked, and the couple was difficult to see. The moonlight hit the gla.s.s in some way that spread a hazy veil around Antonietta and Byron. Tasha curled her hand into a fist, her fingernails driving into her palm.

She felt his eyes on her. Dark. Brooding. Filled with speculation. Engulfed in Byron's arms, Antonietta couldn't be seen, but his head went up alertly as if sensing danger. The hair on the back of her neck actually stood up in response to the intensity of his gaze. Tasha s.h.i.+vered and hurried to the door.

"Are you coming, Toni? It's so late, Nonno should already be in bed."

"Of course I'm coming." There was a mult.i.tude of shared secrets in Antonietta's voice. She kissed Byron again. "I won't be long."

"Keep Celt with you." It came out a command. Byron buried enough of a compulsion in his voice that Antonietta didn't hesitate, even though she frowned. Antonietta was clearly used to going her own way and making her own decisions, and very few people attempted to tell her what to do.

"Toni!" Tasha said sharply.

Antonietta touched fingertips with Byron, the merest brush, signaling camaraderie. She knew very well that Tasha, in spite of her truce, was displaying her disapproval. She's temperamental.

She is mental.

Antonietta burst out laughing. Tasha glared at Byron, suspecting the two of whispering together, or worse, of being amused by her jealousy. She reached out to grab her cousin's wrist with every intention of yanking her out of the room. Somehow the dog was there, inserting its body almost casually. The dark eyes looked quite innocent.

"I feel like kicking you," Tasha said, closing the door to Antonietta's bedroom with a louder than necessary thud. She hoped she shut it on Byron's nose.

"Why would you want to kick me?" Antonietta asked as she followed Tasha into the wide hall.

"Not you, the idiot dog and that man you are climbing all over. What kind of a display is that, Toni? You have a certain position to uphold. You shouldn't be making a fool of yourself over a man."

The whip of contempt in Tasha's voice made Antonietta wince. "I was in my own private quarters, so I don't see how I could have been making too much of a fool of myself."

"You're acting like a lovesick teenager. It's embarra.s.sing. And that dog is annoying. He's too big and gets in the way all the time. Why would you want a dog underfoot? I don't know what Byron was thinking giving him to you. If Marita finds out he's dangerous, there will be h.e.l.l to pay."

"Why would you think he's dangerous?" Antonietta allowed her exasperation to show. "You may not like Byron, Tasha, and that's okay with me, but don't you make trouble for Celt just out of spite."

"I'm never spiteful." Tasha's feet beat out a rhythm of annoyance. "Five minutes with a man, and you're turning on your own family. I hope you realize you're totally infatuated. It's sickening to watch you make an utter fool of yourself, but by all means, don't listen to my advice."

"I haven't heard any advice," Antonietta said, "just sour grapes."

Unexpectedly, Tasha laughed. "That's so true. I'm so jealous I could tear out that man's eyes. I want to be involved in a love affair. In a drama. In something. Someone tries to murder you, Paul even shoots you. You spend an entire day in mourning. It was so perfect, the palazzo silent and all of us caught up in your grief. And then I come up to find a man in your bedroom and you positively glowing. It's enough to make me throw myself from the battlements in absolute envy. Well," she hedged, "the lower balcony."

"He's so wonderful," Antonietta said. She found it easy to walk with Celt beside her, his body posture guiding her far better than even Justine had managed.

"I'm sure you think so. He still frightens me, Toni, and I don't know why. Paul said he saved your life at the risk of his own, yet I'm still afraid of him. There's something about him that isn't right."

"Everything about him is right for me." Antonietta went down the long, sweeping staircase with total confidence. Sometimes she felt Celt shared his eyes with her. She saw nothing, yet she knew exactly where to step as if he were guiding her through imaging in her mind.

Tasha placed a hand on Antonietta's arm to stop her before she turned toward Don Giovanni's rooms. "Why was Paul in the pa.s.sageway? And why would he have a gun? Did he tell you?"

"He owes money to some dangerous people. He said he purchased the gun for protection. And he was in the pa.s.sageway to steal the Scarletti treasures and p.a.w.n them to pay his debts."

Tasha shook her head sadly. "I thought he quit gambling. He promised us. He didn't tell me he needed money. Did he go to you? Or Don Giovanni? Why would he make a decision to steal from the family?" She sank down abruptly on the bottom stairs.

"I'm sorry, Toni. I didn't know. I thought he would come to me if he were in trouble. I'm so ashamed."

Antonietta heard her weeping softly. She laid a comforting hand on her cousin's shoulder. "You aren't responsible for Paul, Tasha. He's a grown man, and he makes his own decisions. He'll have to face up to this. He nearly killed both Byron and me.

Hopefully, he'll think about that and get help before it's too late."

Tasha lifted her head, swiping at the tears, careful of her makeup. "You have to tell Nonno the truth."

Antonietta sighed. "I suppose so, but I'm not looking forward to it." Where are you? She needed comfort. A battle with her grandfather over Paul's fate was more than she wanted to deal with. She had a mad desire to dash back up the stairs and lock herself in her bedroom, keeping Byron a prisoner there.

I am raiding your kitchen, looking for clues. I think my detective skills need work.

Antonietta wrapped his laughter around her like an invisible s.h.i.+eld.

I like the idea of being your prisoner, by the way. Especially if the door were locked, and your family stayed away for a very long while. There are traces of the same substance I found in you, your grandfather, and Paul in the remains of the food in the rubbish.

Antonietta's smile faded. If she believed Byron, someone in her own home was trying to kill all three of them. There's no mistake? You're certain?

Cara mia, I would never alarm you without cause. He sent her waves of warmth and rea.s.surance. Go to your grandfather. He is distressed and needs to sleep. You can talk to him about Paul later.

"I'm going in to Nonno, Tasha. Would you like to come with me?"

"I think I'll just sit here awhile and feel very sorry for myself, and then we can meet in Margurite's room. I promised her I'd sleep in her room tonight."

"You hate that, Tasha. You've always hated not being in your own bed at night. Margurite is old enough to sleep in her room alone."

"I know she is. She just looks so fragile. The house has so many noises, and with the break-in and all the commotion of you being shot, she's afraid. It won't hurt me to stay in her room one night."

"Unless Marita catches you," Antonietta warned.

Tasha made a rude noise. "The day I can't handle Marita is the day I deny being a Scarletti."

"Give me a few minutes with Grandfather, and I'll meet you." Antonietta stood beside her cousin while the silence of the palazzo pressed in on them. "While you're thinking about things, please do decide you're going to make an effort with Byron. He's going to stay."

Tasha sucked in her breath sharply. "Surely you wouldn't contemplate marriage? Permanency? He's a toy. A plaything. You know he could never be more to you. There's too much involved."

"You mean money."

"Not just the money." She waved her hands to encompa.s.s the palazzo. "All of it. All of us."

Antonietta didn't answer. She sensed Byron's stillness. The waiting. "I so appreciate your understanding, Cousin." She wouldn't give either of them the satisfaction. She went in to comfort her grandfather. It was easy enough when she knew Byron was waiting to share the rest of the long night with her.

Byron woke deep beneath the ground with the sound of Antonietta's voice calling to him. With the sound of her music summoning him. He lay there in his bed of rich soil, listening to the rhythm of his heart matching the beat of hers, of her music. The earth around him hummed with life, the sounds of insects and the trickle of water, all adding to the melody she was creating just for him.

Why won't you answer me?

His heart leapt at the little catch in her voice. I am here with you.

Here is not where you were when I went to sleep. You left me alone. I woke up and you were gone. It did not occur to me you would have s.e.x with me and get up and leave.

He lay in the warm arms of the earth, listening to the nuances of her voice, paying particular attention to the shadows lurking in her mind. Peace swept over him. Antonietta was bound to him. Belonged with him. She had ideas that didn't quite match his own, but the ties between them were already formed and pulling tighter with each connection. It was fortunate she awakened as he did.

By binding them, her discomfort level, if unable to reach him, would have soared.

His teeth gleamed white at the little bite in her voice. s.e.x? You may have had s.e.x with me, but I was making love to you with every breath in my body. You are the one who wants no emotion between us. He stretched, knowing she would feel his leisurely, tranquil movement. 7 told you separation could be difficult. Are you feeling the effects?

There was a small silence. Difficult? I didn't use that word. I didn't even think it. You can choose to sleep anywhere you like.

Antonietta sounded regal, haughty, very much a Scar-letti. And humming with anger.

Byron's smile widened. The soil fell away from him, allowing him to float free, clean his body, and dress in immaculate clothing. You are very accepting of our differences. Grazie, Antonietta, for your understanding.

Again he felt her pull back, a silent withdrawal while she attempted to regroup. What differences? You didn't mention differences when we went to bed last night. I've slept the day away and thought I'd wake up with you beside me. I hoped I'd wake up with you beside me. Do you grow horns in your sleep? Is that why you left, so I wouldn't see that you are not human?

It was that tiny spurt of humor that melted his heart. I have never looked, but the possibilities are endless.

You aren't married, are you?

Ouch. What a thing to ask me. I am your life mate. I cannot be with another woman. I am afraid you are permanently stuck with me. Horns and all. He reached for her in his mind, holding her to him. 7 would much prefer to wake with you in my arms. I can bring you to my home this evening, and you can share my bed here.

She sensed a hidden trap. He could feel her moving through his mind, touching his thoughts. It took her a few moments before she realized what she was doing and how easy it was. She grew even quieter, withdrawing farther from him.

Well? He prompted her, mocking male amus.e.m.e.nt brus.h.i.+ng at her teasingly.

You're so charming, I guess I can't resist you. Deliberately she sighed. 7 should, but I don't think I can. I prefer to sleep in my own bed and have you here with me. Take your time Dark Symphony coming up with a good reason for slinking off like a hound dog in the middle of the night, or day, or whenever you left. But make it good and somewhat believable.

Byron laughed. He began to move, floating upward, finding the chimney and slowly, without effort, drifting steadily toward the night sky. You want to stay in your own home where you feel you have the power. Do not think I do not understand that is what you are doing.

Antonietta gasped. You're flying. I feel it with you. You're flying through the air, aren't you? I want to do that.

I am floating, gliding really. It is a pleasant sensation. Not nearly as pleasant as sharing your bed.

Pretty words aren't going to get you out of trouble.

Sure they are. He was openly laughing, happy.

Are you on your way back to me? If so, you can take me flying tonight for your punishment for leaving me all alone in this great big bed.

You are still lying in those silk sheets without a st.i.tch on. The thought of her warm and soft and waiting there for him left him breathless. Just that she would want him with her. Just that she was thinking of him. Do you, Antonietta? Do you think of me?

Dream of me?