Long Shadows: The Lycanthropy Files, Book 2 Page 19

  “That is only for you to discover. No one has ever been in your position before.”

  A knock on the door made us both jump, and I knew without looking who it would be.

  “And now I’ll have two men in disagreement as well,” I grumbled and got up to let Max in.

  Max looked just as rumpled as Giancarlo, and his facial expression—all hard angles and clenched jaw—said he was ready to snarl at something. I wondered what he’d thought about during that drive from the rest area to my apartment. Had he been jealous? Ready to let me go? From the look on his face, I guessed it wasn’t the latter.

  “Did you two have a pleasant evening?” he asked, his tone clipped and formal, and his accent very evident.

  Oh, great, we’ve got Don Corleone meets snooty island guy.

  “It was fine.”

  “Dessert was excellent,” Giancarlo said.

  “Yes, the tiramisu was good, and then we went to bed. Apart,” I said with a glare at Giancarlo.

  Max’s jaw relaxed a little. “Any other incursions?”

  “No, all was quiet,” Giancarlo said. “I spirit-walked all night.”

  “So that’s why you look so tired.” I poured him more coffee.

  “Some of us have more on our mind than just bedding you, Bellissima.”

  Max coughed, and I looked at him, daring him to deny it. “This is certainly a complicated situation. Is there enough for me too?”

  “Complication?” I asked. “Certainly. Coffee, too, if you want.”

  “But not you,” Giancarlo put in. “She is a one-man woman, wizard, so keep that in mind.”

  “Down, boy,” I said and poured a cup of coffee for Max. I fixed it as he liked it and handed it to him. He accepted with a smile and a significant look toward Giancarlo.

  I recognized I’d shown how familiar we were by fixing his coffee and rubbed my temples. “Giancarlo, this isn’t going to get any easier, so I’ll just say it now. You and I were never truly together, not with all you withheld from me both physically and knowledge-wise.”

  “Ah, but now all is clear, Bellissima! We can finally be together, truly together, as our veritable selves. Wolf and wolf.”

  I shook my head. “We can’t, Giancarlo, and you know why. All I ask from my partners is that you’re honest with me. You knew important things about my family that I needed to know, especially after my change, and you kept them from me.”

  “I made a promise, and I keep the promises I make. Unlike the wizards.” The tension in the air thickened with the weight of long history.

  “What promise would that be?” I asked, deliberately keeping my tone light so as not to spark further conflict between the men. “Just for my own information so I know what my situation is with regard to the two cultures.”

  Giancarlo had mentioned a war. Could it be about something having to do with this? Had there been a hairy Helen of Troy stolen away by an evil wizard?

  “To never interfere with our kind.”

  Max shook his head. “That was only part of the treaty. The complete pact was not to interfere with your kind unless you were doing something that would alter the course of mortal human history.”

  “We live among them. It does not mean we interfere.”

  “Just by being there and interacting with them, you interfere.”

  “It was your witch who cursed the Benandanti monk.”

  “And your monk who exacted too high a price from the witch.”

  As fascinating as it was, this discussion had the feel of a debate that had raged for centuries with no solutions.

  “Okay boys, let’s bring it back to the present. Giancarlo, we were talking about us, not the wizards even though I seem to have a wizard bloodline I don’t know much about.”

  “Your bloodline was to have died out centuries ago,” Max said through clenched teeth.

  His statement knocked the air out of me. “What?”

  “The monk was to have taken care of your ancestress before it went any further.” His shoulders slumped. “But something about the magic in your family ensured you could see and know your fylgia. None of the rest of them can.”

  “I never saw her, just heard her.”

  “That’s because you were struggling within yourself.”

  I slammed my fist on the counter. “Stop saying that! You make it sound like it’s my own fault. I never asked for any of this. I never wanted this. I just wanted a nice, normal life.”

  I didn’t have a chair nearby, so I sank to the floor, my face in my hands. “And as long as the two of you are here, I won’t have it, can’t have it.” I looked up through my tears at their concerned faces, one light and one dark like two blurry hovering angels over my shoulders, each with his own agenda having nothing to do with where my soul would end up.

  “So you both need to go. If you want to watch over me, fine. I just want to have my life back.”

  “Your life will never be the same now that you know all this,” Giancarlo murmured. “Now you see why your aunt wanted it kept from you.”

  “The knowledge didn’t change me. Peter Bowman did, and he made me vulnerable to all this strangeness.” I looked at Max. “If I hadn’t changed, if I hadn’t become one of them, would the Benandanti still be after me?”

  “We don’t know,” he said. “Blood magic is a forbidden art, and the rules are still hidden because some of the applications are so dangerous.”

  “What is—” I shook my head. “Never mind. The more I ask, the more it draws me in, and I just need to get out and figure out what—or who—I really am. I won’t reveal what I know.”

  “You are asking us to leave you alone without giving us any reassurance you will be safe,” Giancarlo pointed out.

  “You have your vows to protect me, and Max has his orders. Follow them without bothering me. None of this was my choice to begin with.” I stood, ignoring their outstretched hands. “Now you two can leave.”

  Giancarlo opened his mouth like he wanted to argue further, but Max motioned for him to hold.

  “If that’s what you want,” Max said, his face impassive.

  Even now I looked for anything that might indicate I was more than business. His lack of expression confirmed my decision. “Yes, it’s what I want.”

  “I’ll take first watch,” Max told Giancarlo.

  “You have just been up all night driving. I shall do it.”

  I pointed to the door. “Settle it outside. Get out.”

  In a few moments, they were gone, and I was truly alone for the first time in what felt like years…but not for long.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I knew I shouldn’t be surprised because I never was alone for long. It seemed very pedestrian, but my next visitor appeared about an hour later when I was unloading my dishwasher.

  “So this is where you live,” Peter said, peering through the space between the countertop and cabinets that separated the kitchen from the dining room.

  I jumped. “How did you get in?”

  “I’ve been trying to find you for a week, but every time I tried, something blocked me.”

  Max’s wards. Where are they now? I looked around like I could see them visually and stopped myself. Maybe they haven’t been set up yet.

  “What are you looking for?” Peter asked.

  “Can you sense any security spells? I think he called them wards.”

  Peter closed his eyes. “Not that I can sense, but I am still early in my training.”

  I dried off a still-damp plate so I could keep my hands busy. “He said he was taking first watch.”

  “Lonna, there’s no one else here.” He came into the kitchen and took the plate from my hand. “I would know if there was another wizard in the area.”

  My heart beat in my throat, and I focused on my left foot where Max had placed the spell. Will it work in reverse? Can I find him?

  “Peter, help me!”

  “I don’t know how, and I cannot stay much longer.” He took my hands.
“I’m here to warn you. There are rogue wizards who are looking for you, and if they catch you, they’ll kill you.”

  “I knew that. Do you know why they’re after me?”

  “They want to dissect you to find out what it is that’s so unique about your brain and your cell structure that your family doesn’t age quickly.”

  “Neither do the other wizards and werewolves.” Saying the other struck me. I’m acknowledging myself as one of them now.

  “No one is going to do this to one of their own kind or one of the full bloods on the other side. It would bring the Lycanthrope Council and the Wizard Tribunal down on them. Since you are of mixed blood, and therefore a possible threat to everyone, there are those on both sides who would prefer that you disappear.” He took my hands. “I have a confession.”

  “Only one?”

  “The ones in Europe didn’t know about you until I told them, and now they’re going to be after you too. I’m sorry, I was just trying to find out the information you needed.”

  Now the weight of history fell on my shoulders and was joined by a vise around my heart. “I just drove off my two best advocates.”

  “You had best get them back, then.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “I never stopped loving you, you know.”

  I moved away from him. “From what I’ve heard, I don’t know if that’s a real emotion or if it’s something about me that makes men go nuts.”

  He shrugged. “Does it matter? We had a good time together.”

  “I need more than a good time, Peter. I need…” What do I need?

  His image flickered and faded in front of me. My skin tingled with the aftermath of the magic that had brought him there, and I instinctively closed my right fist as if to grab it. The energy raced through the scar on my palm, through my heart, and to my left foot, where it ignited Max’s mark. I had to catch myself on the counter so I wouldn’t fall, either from the pain or the intensity of the images that flooded my brain.

  “Max!” I screamed. In a vision, Henry and his crew grabbed him outside my apartment and knocked him out from behind so he couldn’t fight back.

  My brain made the connections I hadn’t seen previously. Carrigan didn’t want to protect me—he was part of the conspiracy to kill me, and when he realized Max wouldn’t cooperate, he decided to take him out of the picture.

  What would they do to a wizard they wanted to make disappear? Peter’s words took on a new sinister meaning. They would do to him what they want to do to me.

  From what I could tell, I had two choices: seek the asylum of the werewolves, who may also want me to disappear, or go after Max—the man I love.

  First I needed to be able to change at will, not only when my life was in danger. Sure, that was useful if I had enough warning like Max and I had had in my aunt’s house when Henry and his goons attacked, but not when the process of the change would make me defenseless for a few minutes. Since the antipsychotic had likely worked out of my system by then, what was keeping me separated from my inner wolf was whatever my aunt had done, which was being magnified by my own resistance. There was only one person alive who knew of my aunt’s magic and possibly how to reverse it. Giancarlo.

  Although he had been spirit walking all night, he sounded quite awake when I called, and guilt stabbed me. Maybe he hadn’t been able to sleep since he left my place because I’d broken his heart. Or perhaps I was overestimating the effect I had on men to make myself feel better about failing with Max.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  I swallowed around the lump in my throat that had formed when I heard the chill in his tone.

  “I need your help.”

  “What was that, Lonna?” My name sounded foreign on his tongue since I was so used to him calling me Bellissima, or beautiful one.

  “I’m sorry about this morning. I need your help.”

  A long sigh. “What changed your mind?”

  “In the interest of being perfectly honest with each other, it’s because they took Max.”

  “So you are unprotected.”

  “And helpless.” Saying the words made me clench my teeth. “I need you to help me undo what my aunt and mother did so I can get my fylgia back and change at will, not just when I feel my life is in danger.”

  “That is a good place to start.” He sounded interested, and the tension in my chest eased just a little.

  “Giancarlo, please.”

  “It is good to hear you beg. I will be right there.”

  A tear splashed on the screen of my phone, and my hands trembled. I was in control of my life, of my future. What happened?

  The phone rang while I still held it and showed an unfamiliar number with a 706 area code. I answered.

  “Ms. Marconi, this is Dennis from the Albion Funeral Home. How are you today?” He sounded friendly and Southern, but also somber enough for his profession. I pictured a short overweight man with a mustache and a dark suit.

  “I’ve had better days.”

  “I’m sure, and I’m sorry for your loss. I just wanted to let you know why there’s been a delay in us calling you to make arrangements for your aunt, Ms. Gannadisi.”

  “Okay.” I bit my tongue before I blurted out that I was too busy trying to save my own life to worry too much about burying my aunt. What kind of crappy niece am I?

  “Well, I’m not sure how to sugarcoat this, so I’ll just say it. Your aunt’s body has gone missing.”

  “What?” I leaned against the counter. “What do you mean, missing? Where did it disappear?”

  “I should’ve told you sooner, but we were hoping the sheriff would catch whoever did it and return her to us.”

  “Dennis, just tell me where it went missing.”

  “The hearse that was transporting it from the morgue at Saint Albeus to our facility ran off the road. The driver said he heard snarling animals, so he didn’t want to go outside. I’m not sure I believe this next part, but Joey tested clean for drugs.”

  “Just spit it out, Dennis.”

  “He said he blinked, and a couple of hours had passed, and the hearse was pulled over to the side of the road—not in the woods, although there were scratches on it like it had been. He said he was fine, maybe a little bruised up, but your aunt’s body was missing.”

  “Thank you for telling me,” I said and took a deep breath. “Please keep me informed of the situation.”

  “Now, Miss Lonna, we can still have a service, closed coffin, of course.” Dollar signs oozed from his words.

  “No, I’ll wait until the authorities have located my aunt, and we’ll proceed from there.”

  I hung up and chewed on a nail, a habit I’d broken as a teenager. They have my aunt’s body. They’re going to experiment on it, and they’re going to want a live specimen. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and went into the bedroom to pack. First, I’ll get my inner wolf and ability to change back. Then I’ll rescue Max, and we can face the bullies who stole her.

  Giancarlo arrived just as I was putting a load of laundry in the washer. I answered the door with the bottle of detergent still in hand. Okay, I admit I was holding it in case something decided to try and follow him in.

  “You’re sexy when you’re domestic,” he said and kissed me on both cheeks.

  I smiled, and it felt like before with him flirting and me appreciating it.

  “Would you like something to drink?” I asked.

  “I would love a glass of wine, but since it’s still early, coffee would be fantastic.”

  I nodded, noting the dark circles under his eyes. Right, he hasn’t really slept since the night before last.

  “Plus,” he added, “if you are able to change when your life is in danger, then we should see if caffeine will help that process along since it can produce jitters and anxious feelings.”

  “Good point, amp up the sympathetic nervous system and adrenals.” Not that my adrenals need much help these days. “Would you like to make it Italian strength?”

/>   “My pleasure. Is there any more tiramisu? I have not yet had breakfast.”

  “Help yourself. It’s in the fridge.”

  He busied himself in the kitchen, and I folded clothes on the bed. I closed my eyes and listened to him, and I pretended I was back in my aunt’s house with Max puttering around the kitchen. The desire to be domestic with him overwhelmed me, and I had to blink so I wouldn’t start crying again.

  “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he, Bellissima?” Giancarlo asked from the doorway. He sounded resigned, not jealous.

  I nodded. “More to me than I do to him.”

  Giancarlo’s mouth quirked, and I couldn’t tell whether he was struggling not to frown or smile. “You do not know the wizards. They are cold, analytical. Feelings do not have a place in their world.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” I said, thinking about how Max talked about Deirdre. “He had a fiancée who was killed by werewolves. He showed passion while talking about her.”

  “Then he is a good one,” Giancarlo told me. “Trust this from someone who knows passion: you do mean a lot to him, but he struggles with his inner wolf as you do with yours.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “He has an inner wolf?”

  “In a metaphoric sense.” He spread his hands. “I should not have to explain this to you.”

  “Right. Only one of us is allowed to pull out the psychobabble.” I threw a balled-up T-shirt at him. “Well, that explains why he keeps pointing out my struggle to me. He’s projecting.”

  “Different words for the same part of human nature.”

  I smiled. “When did you get so wise? Wait, how old are you, anyway?”

  “I am relatively young for my kind, only eighty years old.”

  “What? You’ve aged better than my aunt did.”

  “She chose to grow older. She had no desire to outlive her family to that degree. It is hard for the mixed bloods because they have more options and therefore more difficult choices.”

  “I have so much to learn.”

  He handed me a big mug of coffee. “Then let us start.”