“So, you had no idea…?”
She shook her head. “All I knew was they had to guard their privacy. For me, it was a chance to work in Italy. My great-grandparents emigrated from Venice to the States—”
“So that’s why you speak such good Italian,” he interjected.
She flashed a wistful smile. “Not according to my older relatives. Anyway, that’s one reason I’ve always wanted to spend time in Venice — and not just as a tourist.”
“Why did your great-grandparents leave?”
She made a face. “Mussolini. Enough said?”
They both turned in the direction of the causeway connecting Venice with the mainland. For years, Venice had guarded its independence like the city-state it had once been. Then Mussolini had ordered the causeway built and reeled in the city as part of a growing empire. Concerned shifters had done their best to stem the rising tide of fascism, but when it turned into a flood, many left. Some went abroad, while others sought refuge from the madness of the human world in remote corners of the lagoon.
Tony looked toward to a cluster of small, sleepy islands to the northwest. His family had left too — although more recently. All except his grandfather, who lived on a tiny speck of an island in the lagoon.
Originally, Tony had planned on a covert visit to his grandfather after a night in Venice. Now, that visit could take place in the open — theoretically. The island old-timers were a stubborn lot. Once they’d made up their minds about a man — especially a man pronounced guilty of murdering a Guardian — they were unlikely to change their views.
Tony couldn’t hold back a sigh as he looked out over the lagoon. When Cara cocked her head, he mustered a smile.
“So many unknowns,” he murmured, switching to French. “But that’s life. C’est la vie.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but when their eyes met, her lips wobbled, and no sound emerged. The morning air was perfectly still, yet an invisible force started to swirl around the two of them. First gently, then faster, like a tornado intent on trapping them in its eye.
And, oops. Before he knew it, they were close. Kissing-close. His hand moved all by itself, and he found himself touching her cheek. Her skin was soft, her gaze full of wonder. Her height brought her chin to a point just two or three inches below his own — the perfect level for a kiss.
So, kiss, his lion purred.
He would have, but by then, she’d cupped his cheek. Gently, she stroked her thumb over his beard. In no time, his eyelids were drooping, and he nearly hummed.
“Cara,” he whispered, dipping in for a kiss.
She tilted her chin up to meet his lips. But they had barely brushed when footsteps sounded up the stairs.
“Buongiorno,” an uncertain voice called.
Tony and Cara jerked apart.
“Fiorina.” Cara smoothed a hand over her hair. “Good morning. Come on up.”
“Are you sure?” Fiorina asked.
Cara nodded. “Yes. It’s fine. How did you sleep?”
Fiorina peeked up and around like a meerkat checking its surroundings. “Better than I expected, thanks to you.” She turned in a circle, scanning the sky. “I just came up to see if you wanted coffee or tea.”
“Coffee would be great,” they both said at the same time, then grinned at each other.
“Perfect. I’ll be right back.” Fiorina ducked under cover again.
She reappeared a few minutes later with a breakfast platter and three steaming coffees. In no time, they were seated around a table on the rooftop terrace, eating and basking in the morning sun.
Well, Tony and Cara basked. But Fiorina’s eyes darted around nervously, and her hands shook.
“A beautiful day,” Cara murmured at one point.
Fiorina forced a smile. “It is. And like my mother says, we have to look on the bright side.”
Tony’s heart went out to the girl. Clearly, she was way out of her depth. He’d met several Fire Maidens, and Fiorina simply didn’t match up. It wasn’t her slight frame or narrow shoulders that disqualified her so much as her timid nature.
Tony probed that issue as delicately as he could. “Congratulations. On being a Fire Maiden, I mean.”
Fiorina twisted the napkin in her lap. “I’m not. Not really. Just the next best thing.”
He cocked his head. “Scusi?”
“The last true Fire Maiden died in the last World War. That left my family as the last with royal blood — but only on my father’s side, and only a little bit. Everyone knows that. But they insist on calling me a Fire Maiden.”
“Why?” Cara asked.
Fiorina’s gaze dropped to her feet. “My aunt says it gives people hope. You know, with all the uncertainty in the world…” She trailed off, fidgeting. “But there’s danger too.”
“The question is, from whom?” Cara hacked at a piece of fruit with a knife, as if in warning to anyone who threatened her friend.
Fiorina pinched her lips. “I wish I knew. Maybe someone who thinks I actually have power when I don’t?”
Cara put a hand over Fiorina’s. “Is that why your family was in hiding?”
Fiorina nodded. “Partly, and partly because of what happened to my father.” Her throat bobbed, and she shot Tony a grateful look.
He forced a little smile. The terrified little girl he’d rescued all those years ago had grown up, but the fear still shone through.
For God’s sake. He wanted to stomp downstairs to the Guardians and thump a fist on their oversized desk. Whose idea was it to throw an innocent girl into this den of wolves?
Fiorina lowered her voice. “I was about to begin art school, but the Guardians thought it might help to have me here, so I have to do my best. I have to make my father proud.”
Tony looked out over the rooftops. That, he could relate to all too well.
“My aunt says it’s my destiny,” Fiorina whispered, not too enthusiastically.
For the next few minutes, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Tony hoped fate would spare Fiorina the worst. She’d already been through so much. And Cara — the woman was more the type to take her destiny in both hands and bend it to her will, whatever that might be.
As for him… He frowned, considering. What would his destiny be?
Chapter Nine
All in all, it was the nicest, quietest breakfast Tony had had in a long time. The warmest, too, given the six months he’d spent in Scotland. So, when Fiorina insisted on brewing more coffee, he didn’t say no.
The moment she disappeared downstairs, Cara leaned in, whispering, “Aren’t Fire Maidens supposed to be great leaders? Don’t get me wrong. I love Fiorina like a sister. But she’s just not cut out for it. All she ever talked about as a kid was becoming an artist. But somehow, she’s been roped into being a stand-in Fire Maiden.”
Exactly what he’d been thinking. How had the Guardians ever convinced themselves that bringing her to Venice would be a good idea?
“I suppose their theory has some merit…if she has enough royal blood to revive the ancient spells that protect the city.”
Cara snorted. “If they hang around waiting for magic to kick in, the city is doomed. They need to act, and act now.”