Defying the North Wind Page 5

  Luca clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Go back to Lake Como, mio fratello. I’ll come as soon as I can. Thank you for your help.”

  Soren drew a shaky breath. “Don’t worry about me. Just fight your own battle.”

  Luca shook his head. “I’ve learned that I’m not alone.” His gaze stopped on Rayne. “Sometimes we need help.”

  Soren’s mouth opened. Closed.

  Rayne waited until the WindKeeper’s gray gaze moved to her. “I’ll talk with the other Aurae. Maybe someone can help you.”

  He gave her a tired nod. “Good hunting, Luca, Rayne.” He took one step and leaped off the building in a graceful dive. She watched as he dissolved into the wind.

  Luca was tense, staring after his brother. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and pressed her cheek to his back. “We’ll find a way to help him.”

  Luca put his hands over hers and nodded. “But first, we have to save Venice.”

  She stepped up beside him, focusing her gaze on the fighting crowd and the burning buildings.

  Luca pointed into the square. “Caecius is down there. Stirring up the violence.”

  “We should split up—”

  “Too dangerous.”

  “Luca.”

  His chin dropped to his chest and he released a long breath. “I know, I know, you can look after yourself.”

  She touched a hand to his strong jaw. “Trust me.”

  “I do.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. Then he scooped her into his arms.

  She slid an arm along his shoulders. Oh, yeah, she could get used to this.

  He leaped over the side of the building and landed below in a crouch.

  In the middle of an angry mob.

  ***

  Luca set Rayne on her feet and eyed the irate crowd.

  She pushed forward, thrusting two fighting men apart before ducking to avoid the punch of an enraged woman.

  The only thing on Rayne’s face was stubborn determination. No fear. No anxiety. She was doing a job, and as she’d told him, she could look after herself.

  Luca turned and forced his concentration to finding Caecius. Luca ran into a mob of men who were beating each other bloody and tossed several in different directions. The final ones turned and ran.

  Striding through the crowd, he searched for any sign of the Tempest Wind. With so many people in the campo, Luca couldn’t detect any individual scents. There was too much blood, too much sweat, fear and anger.

  He spied one man on the ground, sobbing into his hands. His face was covered in blood, his nose broken. In front of him lay the body of a woman, her eyes staring sightlessly skyward.

  Luca’s gut was heavy. This ended. Here and now.

  He called up the North Wind and sent it out over the crowd. He wanted it to watch over Rayne, but the downside was it left Luca susceptible to the aggression filling the square like a putrid cloud.

  His wind soaked it in and rage punched through his veins. Two men charged at him and this time, he welcomed the fight.

  He slammed one man into the crowd behind him. The other punched Luca, hitting him in the side of the head and snapping Luca’s head back.

  Gritting his teeth against the pain, Luca slammed a fist into the man’s gut. Once, twice, three times. Hurt him. Punish him. Let your anger free.

  Luca dragged the man high into the air. He wanted to keep hitting, keep punching, keep hurting.

  Chest heaving, Luca dropped the man.

  The crowd ahead parted and Caecius strode forward. “I thought I had you there for a second.”

  Luca dragged in some deep breaths and remained silent.

  Caecius cocked his head. “You’re more ruthless than your brothers. You’re stronger and don’t need help with your vice. You rule it, use it.”

  Luca felt the words slide in under his skin. He was strong. All his life he’d worked to control every aspect of his life.

  Caecius raised a brow. “Let’s see how much control you really have, WindKeeper.”

  As the Tempest Wind launched forward, Luca was already moving to meet him.

  They slammed together in a brutal collision. Luca reared back and kicked out. Caecius blocked him. They traded kicks, hits and vicious punches.

  Their winds rose up, swirling around them, like spectators egging on a fight. Luca didn’t hold anything back. He had to protect Rayne, Venice and her people, his brothers. It was his duty to use all his strength to end the Tempest Wind.

  A brutal side kick sent Caecius stumbling back. His face was grim. You have him. Drive him down.

  “I won’t stop until Venice is a bloodbath. I love the color red.” Caecius’s smile was nasty.

  Luca advanced, power singing through him. He thumped a blow into Caecius’s face, causing the Tempest Wind to curl in on himself. Yes. His anger was alive, a writhing beast that wanted prey.

  Caecius laughed, his teeth covered in blood. “I won’t kill your lovely Aurae though. I have special plans for her.”

  The words enraged Luca. He kept punching Caecius and it felt so good.

  The North Wind, charged with power, swirled into a funnel, creating a large tornado above them.

  Caecius’s laughter ran out. “That’s it, WindKeeper. More, give me more.”

  Luca’s fist paused in the air, his knuckles torn and bloody. He arched his head, staring at his out-of-control wind. The anger in his gut churned, making him feel sick. What had he done?

  His fingers curled. It was too late to worry. He needed to finish this.

  He slammed another blow into Caecius’s smiling face.

  Chapter Seven

  Rayne saw the slowly spinning funnel of wind rising high above the campo. Beautiful, deadly and out-of-control.

  Luca. She sprinted toward it. She leaped over fallen bodies and slammed through fighters. As she neared, she saw Luca and Caecius in fierce combat. Luca had knocked the Tempest Wind down and was pummeling him.

  Rayne didn’t pause. She continued her headlong rush and rammed into Luca’s back.

  They sailed over Caecius and hit the ground. The fall forced the air out of her lungs. Luca flipped, baring his teeth like a wild animal caught in hunting lust. As he raised his arm, his elbow slammed into her face.

  Pain exploded across her cheekbone. Luca reared above her, his hand clenched into a tight fist.

  Time slowed. A million old memories rushed through her head and fear filled her belly. On instinct, she flinched away from him.

  Like a man waking from a dream, Luca shook his head. Horror dawned. “Rayne…I’m so sorry…I…” he lifted his hands, staring at them.

  Rayne pulled in a shaky breath and focused on Luca’s eyes. She touched a hand to her cheek and forced herself to stay in the present, not the past.

  He shook his head viciously. “For a second, I wanted to hit you. Caecius is right. There is only the anger. One push and it rears up.”

  In his eyes she saw no glee, no sickening spark of pleasure. She shook off the past. For too long, Rayne had let her mother’s mistakes, her stepfather’s terror and her own sense of failure dictate her actions.

  She jumped up, wanted to touch Luca, but his edgy stance told her he wouldn’t let her. “Caecius is a liar. You’re much, much more.”

  Luca’s hands clenched before he slowly uncurled them. “I hurt you.” His gaze went to her cheek.

  She felt the throb, it would bruise, and he would never forgive himself. “Did you take pleasure in hitting me?”

  “No!”

  “Do you want to do it again? Do you want to hurt people because it makes you feel good?”

  “Of course not.” Luca’s voice was a raspy whisper, his gaze on the ground.

  “Look at me.” She injected all the command she possessed into her voice.

  He lifted his gaze and met hers. His eyes were covered in frost and aggression still pumped off his body.

  “I’ve seen that there’
s more to you. And I want to see what else you have.” She cupped his face. “I’d like to see what movies make you laugh, what books you like to read, if you’re any good at cooking me breakfast.”

  He grabbed her now, holding her tight. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Maybe not, WindKeeper, but you’ve got me. The Aurae were wrong to deny their heritage. It stopped so many of them finding the men meant for them.”

  “You think I’m meant for you?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  Luca pressed a fast kiss to her lips and turned, pulling her close to his side.

  “We have to defeat Caecius.” She stepped closer to Luca, let their arms brush. “But not with anger. You have to defeat him without it.”

  She felt the tension in Luca’s big body, knew he wanted to push her behind him, shield her. But he held out his hand, inviting her to stand beside him.

  She took it.

  She knew it was a commitment. To more than just doing their duty, or controlling his vice.

  Together they faced Caecius.

  ***

  Luca watched the Tempest Wind consider them with narrowed eyes. Caecius raised his arms. Above the square, wind blasted and dark clouds filled the sky in a boiling rush.

  “You’ll always fight the rage,” Caecius yelled the words. “It will never leave you. You’ll live in fear, fear you’ll hurt her. Already her face darkens from your fury.”

  “You’re right.” Luca faced his enemy square on. The one before him and the one inside him. “Anger will never leave me. I will always fight it. But I won’t ever stop fighting and I won’t live in fear.” He turned his head to the woman beside him.

  Her lips trembled before she firmed them. Her gaze never left his.

  “I don’t need to be afraid anymore.” Luca lifted their joined hands.

  The North Wind rose—powerful, cold, controlled. Rayne’s own sleek breeze joined it, both of them pushing the other to new heights.

  Caecius took a stumbling step backward. He watched the fierce gale grow in front of him. He called on his wind, but now the Northeast Wind was a pitiful puff of air compared to the combined power of Luca and Rayne.

  The Tempest Wind turned to escape and Luca thrust his free hand forward. His wind raced forward, spreading over the campo.

  It caught the Tempest Wind, threw him high, his body twisting and tumbling in the vortex. As Caecius’s body started to disintegrate—like ash in the air—his scream was carried on the wind.

  Then he was gone.

  Instantly the anger and aggression charging the air dissipated. Disheveled, dazed people stared around the Campo San Polo, at each other.

  Luca arched his neck and saw the clouds above break up and disperse. On the horizon he saw the burn of the setting sun.

  A hand touched his chest. A soft, feminine touch but one filled with strength.

  “It’s over,” she said.

  Caecius was over. Luca felt…hollow. He had the victory he’d existed for and yet he felt empty.

  What he’d said was true. The anger would never truly leave him and now that he’d tasted something special with Rayne, he knew what he would forsake to keep her safe.

  He faced her but didn’t meet her gaze. “Thank you. For all your help.”

  She frowned. “We did this together, WindKeeper.”

  “I know. But here we part company.” He let his gaze drift over the crowd. Don’t look at her and you can get through this. “I’m grateful for everything you did, everything you gave me to help me defeat Caecius.”

  There was a dangerous silence.

  Her voice was lethally quiet. “Are you going to thank me for the fuck next?”

  Now his gaze sliced back to hers. There was fire in her green eyes, but it was the shadows of hurt that sliced his insides to ribbons. Then he noted the bruise forming on her cheek.

  His fault. They would both wait, day after day, for the one argument where his vice would escape and hurt her far worse than a bruise.

  “It was a good one,” he said.

  She slapped him. The sound rang in his ears and he welcomed the sting of pain.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked, voice shaky.

  “I am what I am.” He had to get out of here before the pain in her face made him break down and grab her. “I can never change that, that’s why I’m going. Stay safe, Rayne.”

  The shadows were growing, cloaking him, and he decided the shocked people in the square weren’t paying any attention to him. He didn’t jump or leap, he just called the North Wind and let it turn his body to the smallest particles and carry him away. Anywhere. Just far away from the woman he wanted more than anything else in his life.

  ***

  Stupid men.

  Rayne marched through Venice, her back rigid and her eyes dry but burning. No way she’d let the tears fall. She’d believed she’d seen something in Luca Venti. Instead she’d been just as blind as when her stepfather had been hurting Skye. Just seeing what she wanted to see.

  With heavy steps and an even heavier heart, Rayne stepped out into Piazza San Marco. She eyed the broken ruin of Luca’s hotel. God, it felt like a lifetime since she’d exposed her true identity to him, since they’d embarked on this crazy adventure. A lifetime since he’d made love to her.

  She thought of the way he’d helped his injured staff. The worry he felt for his brother. The horror in his face when he realized he’d bruised her. Her steps faltered.

  “You said earlier that you didn’t want to be used by a WindKeeper. Didn’t want to be a chattel—”

  “Luca—”

  “Let me finish. You aren’t.”

  His words in the bell tower echoed so loudly in her head it was like he was here beside her. She turned and looked out toward San Giorgio Maggiore Island. Instantly she spied the bell tower rising high above the other buildings.

  He’d pushed her away. To protect her. “You idiot, Venti!”

  A couple standing nearby eyed Rayne like she was crazy. Ignoring them, she broke into a run and headed for the nearest ferry to San Giorgio Maggiore.

  The trip took her far longer than she wanted. After a boat trip spent wrestling her nervous energy and a sprint across the island, she finally took the steps of the tower two at a time. As her lungs started to burn, she cursed that the elevator was closed during the renovations.

  She reached the top.

  And saw her WindKeeper with one shoulder pressed to a pillar, staring out across the City of Bridges. So strong yet so alone.

  She started toward him. He sensed her and spun around, his blue eyes just a little frosty. Oh, she’d have them back to their brilliant cobalt before long.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” His tone was dark.

  She shrugged a shoulder. “You know I like to defy you every now and then. Far too many people give into your demands.”

  He pressed a hand to the pillar, his fingers digging deep into the stone. “The anger’s still inside me, Rayne. It’s quiet right now, but I hear it. Like a damned distant beat I’ll always hear.”

  “I know that.” She took a step closer, desperate to touch him. “And I know you’ll fight it. You’re nothing like the monster I grew up with.”

  “Rayne—” Her name was a tortured sound.

  “Let me help you. Fight for us.” She held out a hand. “Fight and give us a chance.”

  With a groan, he reached for her. “Damn, you’re stubborn.”

  When he swept her up into his arms, she gave a startled laugh and slid an arm across his shoulders.

  He let out a shuddering breath. “I should be stronger. I should let you go.”

  “Stop fighting what’s between us.” She rubbed a finger over his lips, saw the flare in his eyes. A feeling of calm settled inside her. “I could get used to you carrying me around.”

  “You’d better.” He strode to the edge of the platform and set her down on the ledge. “Beca
use now I’ve got you, I’m not letting go.”

  “We can go to the safe house—”

  He shook his head. “No, this time there’ll be no Venti Tempesta, no winds, just us.” His hands slid into her hair. “And I need you far too much to wait until we go somewhere else.”

  He stepped back and slipped out of his shirt. He unbuckled his trousers. Rayne leaned back, her pulse thumping a crazy rhythm. Behind her, the lights of Venice were like a sprinkle of diamonds in the night. Below, she had a dizzying view to the ground and in front of her was a perfect specimen of man who sent desire storming through her belly.

  He watched her through hooded eyes and she loved the blatant way he studied her.

  As he shucked off the last of his clothes, Rayne gripped the edge of her top and ripped it over her head before shimmying out of her trousers with a teasing slide designed to torment him. She dragged a hand down her naked torso, over her breasts and down her flat belly.

  His gaze followed her moves like a starving man eyeing a feast. He strode to her and she slid to her knees, heedless of the hard cement. When she cupped his hard cock, he froze, a low groan torn from his throat.

  She slid her hands up, down. Suddenly he gripped her wrist and crouched down. She moved to complain but realized he was tucking his discarded shirt under her knees.

  Her heart melted a little more. She tugged free of his grasp and started a tortuous slide that made him groan again. Up, down. Up, down.

  One of his hands slid into her hair. “This was supposed to be about you, to be for your pleasure.”

  She leaned forward, knowing he’d feel her warm breath on his thighs. “Oh, this is my pleasure, Luca.” She sucked his cock into her mouth.

  He jerked, his hands curling, but he didn’t tug her hair, or get rough. She lavished attention on him, feeling him get harder and harder.

  “Enough, cara.” He gripped her shoulders and pushed her back. Then he hooked his hands under her arms and lifted her onto the ledge. He stepped between her legs, pushing up against her. Naked skin against naked skin. “I love how the moonlight finds the fire in your hair and turns your skin to marble.”