Not that kind of orders, Tony wanted to growl. But he’d been too shocked to act at the time.
We can handle him, Tiberio declared as his men overwhelmed Fabricio. You get the others.
Before Tony could protest, Caselli shoved him out the door and hurried him down the stairs.
So, you finally get your first real job, kid. Don’t fuck it up.
Tony had felt sick as he’d followed Caselli downstairs to where the family slumbered.
Luckily, Fabricio had warned his mate, who had gathered up their children and started to flee down a back stairway. Tony would never forget her look of horror as he and Caselli thumped down the stairs.
Leave us alone. I implore you, the woman begged. Don’t hurt my children.
Her only protection was an elderly servant who brandished a sword plucked from a display on the wall. The man was so old and shaky, the point of the sword dipped and wobbled.
Don’t worry, Caselli had grinned. We won’t hurt you. We’re here to protect you.
His cruel smile gave away the lie. The woman didn’t buy a word, and neither did Tony. But what should he do? All his life, he’d been trained that orders were orders. Loyalty was loyalty. The Guardians of Venice could do no wrong, and traitors could not be tolerated.
But this was wrong. Wrong in every way.
Which was when it finally clicked his mind. Fellini wasn’t a traitor. Tiberio was.
When Caselli lunged for the children, their mother screamed.
That sound pushed Tony into action. Without thinking, he yanked Caselli back and flung him against the wall. Then he shepherded the woman toward the next landing and turned to block Caselli.
Stop. Think. We can’t do this.
Caselli stood, looking murderous. Yes, we can. We will. At least I will, even if it’s over your dead body. Sacrifices must be made, you know.
An instant later, Caselli had jumped Tony, and a ferocious fight ensued — all just steps from the terrified woman and her children. Fury clouded Tony’s mind, and his movements became a whirlwind. His only clear memory was a chilling moment when he’d let out his lion claws and slashed at Caselli, leaving three parallel lines across his face. That, and Caselli’s murderous look, compounded by the blood dripping down his face.
That set off the next stage of the fight — another blur. The next clear memory Tony had was of staring down at Caselli’s lifeless body.
But there was no time for regret, only action. Tiberio had more men at his disposal, and they would be on their way soon.
Come with me. Quickly, Tony had urged Fabricio’s mate.
The woman shook her head. Leave us alone. I beg you.
Tony had held out a hand. I swear I won’t hurt you. Come now. Quickly.
Shouts broke out upstairs, and Fabricio yelled out in a strangled voice. The children! Take them to safety!
Footsteps pounded on the main stairs, telling Tony more men were on the way. Turncoats who were loyal to Tiberio, not Fellini or the Guardians of Venice.
You, he ordered the elderly servant. Hurry ahead. Do you have a boat?
When the old man gave a hesitant nod, Tony fluttered his hands.
Well, get it ready.
After a gulp, the woman nodded. Go, Fidelio. Please. Prepare the boat.
Off went the creaky old servant, leaving Tony with the woman and her children. As gently as possible, he guided them down the stairs. But the children clung to their mother, slowing every step. Tony had no choice but to reach for the bigger of the two, a young girl.
Here. I’ll take her. You carry your son. Hurry, now.
As frightened as the mother was, the little girl was even more terrified. In shock, most likely. She clung to Tony with her eyes squeezed shut, doubling Tony’s resolve.
No ill will befall this child, he swore. I will keep her safe.
Finally, they reached the villa’s canalside entrance. There, Fidelio stood at the wheel of a boat, its motor already idling. Once the mother had stepped aboard with her son, Tony had handed the little girl to Fidelio, praying the old man wouldn’t drop her.
The old man’s arms shook, but he got the girl in, then hurried back to the wheel.
Fabricio, the woman whispered, looking toward the upper story.
Tony’s heart broke, but he shook his head. Your mate begged you to flee. So please — go. Keep the children safe.
Tears filled the woman’s eyes, but she nodded. Tony pushed the boat away from the dock and motioned to Fidelio. Go. Quickly.
Thank you, the woman whispered. Her voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the engine, and yet it had echoed in Tony’s mind ever since.
When the boat was a few feet away, the little girl looked up for the first time, pinning Tony with a look that would always haunt him.
* * *
All that had happened a decade earlier, and so much had changed since then. But one thing hadn’t — the innocent yellow-brown eyes staring into his.
Tony sucked in a breath. That was all in the past. This was the present, and the little girl of his memories was nearly an adult.
Fiorina had gone totally white, but she nodded. “This man saved me. Twice.”
“My dear girl,” Don Ercole started in that same, you poor confused thing tone adults used with children.
But Fiorina clenched her fists and spoke louder. “This man isn’t a murderer. He saved me and my family that awful night, when my father was killed.”
Cara’s eyes shone at Tony. I knew I could trust you.
He wanted to reach out and take her hand. Somehow, he knew he could trust her too.
Still, he wished he could give the tragic story a better ending. Something along the lines of him rushing back upstairs in time to save Fabricio Fellini. But he’d wasted precious minutes fighting the men Tiberio had sent to stop him. By the time he’d reached the study on the top floor, Fellini was lying in a puddle of blood, heaving his last breaths. Tiberio had barely looked up, too busy rifling through the desk drawers.
Fabricio looked ashen. Please. Spare my children…
Tony had run to the fallen Guardian, trying to stanch the bleeding. But Tiberio had used his lion claws to slash deep into the man’s heart, inflicting wounds so severe, not even accelerated shifter healing could help.
Your family is on their way to safety with Fidelio. I swear, they’re safe, Tony had whispered.
Relief washed over Fabricio’s face. Then his features froze, and his body went limp.
Sadly, that was the end of the story. Fiorina’s father had died. Tony had failed in his most basic duty — to protect those who protected Venice.
You fool. What have you done? Tiberio had growled when he’d realized what Tony had done. I need that girl. Don’t you understand?
No, Tony hadn’t. He still didn’t. Why did the Guardians treat Fiorina like a princess?
But he was too submerged in the past to consider that now. Now, as then, his blood boiled. When Tiberio had lunged for him, he’d fought like never before, half in lion form, half human. Minutes later, Tony had plunged his claws deep into Tiberio’s chest and held them there.
You have killed your last innocent man, he’d growled to a dying Tiberio.
But Tiberio had managed one last, cruel laugh. I will get my revenge.
Just then, a squad of men had stormed in.
Thank goodness, Tony had thought at first. Meno male. Those new arrivals were loyal to the Guardians, not Tiberio’s private forces. Men he could count on, in other words.