Which was, apparently, where Scythe and his specific set of skills came in. Not that it would take a request from Trygg or the Order to convince him to hunt down Chiara’s attacker and make the Breed male pay in blood and anguish.
The very idea of her cowering as some animal attempted to harm her made Scythe's whole body quake with fiery rage.
“So, the Order needs me to find this bastard and tear his head off, then?”
“Just killing him isn’t going to get to the root of the problem. We don’t think this attack is random. The Order needs you to protect Chiara and Pietro while we work to figure out who’s after her and why.”
Scythe could not hold back the snarl that built in his throat. “You know I don’t do bodyguard duty. Damn it, you know why too.”
“Yeah,” Trygg said. “And I’m still asking you to do it. You’re the only one we can trust with this, brother. The Order’s got all hands on deck with Opus Nostrum, Rogue outbreaks, and ninety-nine other problems at the moment. We need you.”
Scythe groaned. “You ask too fucking much this time.”
Protecting the woman would cost him. He knew that from both instinct and experience. For almost a score, he’d kept his feedings down to once a week. His body’s other needs were kept on an even tighter leash.
He’d only spent a few hours with Chiara Genova six weeks ago, yet it was long enough to know that being under the same roof with her was going to test both his patience and his self-discipline.
But the kid? That was a no-go. There were things he just couldn’t do, not even for his brother.
He mulled over Trygg’s request in miserable silence.
“What’s it gonna be, Scythe?”
The refusal sat on the tip of his tongue, but damned if he could spit it out. “If I do this, we do it my way. I don’t answer to the Order or to anyone else. Agreed?”
“Sure, you got it. Just get your ass to Rome as soon as you can so we can go over your plan and coordinate efforts.”
“What about her?” Scythe demanded. “Does Chiara know you’ve contacted me to help her?”
The stretch of silence on the other end of the line told him all he needed to know and he grimaced.
“Savage and Bella are bringing Chiara and Pietro in as we speak,” Trygg said. “They should all be here within the hour.”
Scythe cursed again, more vividly this time. “I’m on my way.”
He ended the call, then threw the SUV into gear and gunned it out to the street.
Chapter 2
“Absolutely not. It’s out of the question.”
Chiara crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the assembled warriors as if they’d lost their minds. They must have, if they thought she would agree to anything they’d just explained.
“I’m not leaving Rome without my son. I haven't been apart from Pietro for more than a few hours since he was born. You think I'm going to start now, when you suspect some animal is out to kill me?”
She shook her head furiously, pacing the conference room in agitation. She’d agreed to keep an open mind when Ettore and Bella brought her to the Order’s command center earlier tonight, but that didn’t mean she was going to let them separate her from her boy.
She turned to face her former sister-in-law, desperate for an ally.
“Bella, please. You know I'd do just about anything you asked. When you and Ettore took Pietro and me from the vineyard to keep us safe from Vito Massioni and his men, I went without argument. But this? There has to be another way.”
No one answered, just as no one had answered any of her other questions and protests, either. She caught the subtle shift of Ettore’s gaze toward the far side of the meeting room where a Breed male who wasn’t part of the Order stood. He wasn’t a stranger to her, although she could hardly claim to be completely comfortable in his presence, despite the fact that some weeks ago she and Pietro had taken shelter in his safe house in Matera along with Bella and Ettore.
Tall and broad, immense even for a Gen One, as he was, Scythe was a wall of muscle and menace. His all-black clothing was a sinister complement to his long ebony hair and close-trimmed beard. Even his eyes were black. His intelligent, unreadable obsidian gaze seemed to see everything, know everything.
Chiara had been trying to ignore Scythe’s unsettling presence ever since he arrived.
Impossible.
Not only because he was the kind of male who seemed to swallow up every bit of oxygen in the room, but because she had only moments ago been informed that he would be responsible for protecting her life.
He didn’t seem any happier about that idea than she was.
She could feel the weight of his cold obsidian gaze on her face, but she couldn't bring herself to look in his direction. She knew she was being stubborn, but dammit, Pietro was all she had.
More importantly, she was all he had too. They were a little family of two. Asking her to let him out of her sight in this situation was like asking her to hand over her beating heart in a basket.
“What if I took Pietro out of Italy instead? We can go to America for a while. We can hide somewhere together for as long as the Order needs us to. Anything but separating me from my child.”
If she'd hoped to get some vocal support from Bella, she'd been sorely disappointed. The room filled with a tense silence and Chiara’s nerves felt stretched and raw. She drifted over to the bar cart in the corner and poured herself a brandy from a crystal decanter.
Her mind grappled for some other argument, no matter how thin. Anything to keep her son close.
“The boy will be safer away from you, Chiara.”
It was Scythe’s deep voice that finally broke the silence, the first thing he’d said to her all night. She wheeled on him, her pulse pounding with unchecked fury at both his words and his uncanny ability to read her like a book. “Easy for you to say. How many children do you have?”
His hard gaze drilled into her for a long moment before he shook his head. “I have none.”
“Then how could you possibly understand the magnitude of what you're asking?” Her voice was trembling now, and she hated herself for it, but it couldn't be helped. “What kind of mother ships her child off for someone else to care for when there is danger near?”
Just the thought of it made her skin break out in a cold sweat.
But the Hunter wasn't giving up so easily. “A good mother. If the choice is keeping him close so you can be together when you die or letting him go and giving him his best chance of survival, you'd be foolish to consider the former. And selfish.”
He stepped away from his assumed post next to the door and moved into the center of the room. The space seemed to shrink with every step he took. By the time his long, muscled legs had brought him to within arm’s reach of her she was almost claustrophobic with the overwhelming size and power that emanated from him. He towered over her, his trim-bearded jaw set in a tight scowl.
“We know one thing. If this male truly wanted to kill you, he would have. Instead, when you fought back, he chose to retreat. He evidently wants you alive, and I’m guessing that’s because he wants you for his own.”
Dear God, she tried not to flinch at the idea, but the prospect of being taken by her attacker—or worse, shackled by a forced blood bond she would be powerless to break except in death—made her heart lurch in her breast.
Scythe’s voice took on a sober tone, but it was far from merciful. “Make no mistake, Chiara. Males who would stalk and mate without your consent are no better than animals. He won't want to share you with anyone, least of all a man-child you love with such deep devotion. The first thing he'll do once he has you is kill Pietro. I guarantee it.”
A ragged cry erupted from her throat and she held a hand to her mouth in horror.
Scythe’s dark brow furrowed into a scowl. “I know it’s hard to hear, but the safest place for your boy is wherever you aren’t.”
He was right. She knew it the second he'd spoken the words,
but God. How could she bear being away from her son?
He'd already suffered so much in his very young life.
“If you agree to follow my instructions in this, I promise you'll be reunited with Pietro soon. I’ll stake my own life on that.”
She glanced at the others in the room, desperate for alternatives, yet knowing in her gut that she had to do what was best for her son. Even if it meant leaving Rome without him and putting her life in the hands of her unwanted guardian.
“If I have to protect you both,” Scythe muttered, “my attention will be split and neither of you will be truly safe.”
Arguing was futile at this point, and she knew it. Her only hope was that Scythe would keep his word and do his best to catch her assailant as quickly as possible. Then maybe she and Pietro could get back to the work of trying to have some semblance of a normal life.
She lifted the snifter to her lips in a trembling hand and took a long sip, relishing the heat blazing a path to her belly.
“All right. I’ll do as you ask. But not if it means I need to live like a prisoner at your place in Matera with nothing for me to do except worry about my child. I want to go home to the vineyard, so I can at least work and keep my hands and mind busy while you and the Order do whatever it is you need to do.”
To her shock, Scythe gave an agreeing nod. “That is the plan, actually. It will be best if things appear as normal as possible. We want this male to be tempted to make another move. We want to lure him in as quickly as possible.”
“Encourage him to attack again?” She found it difficult to keep the nervous edge from her voice.
“You couldn’t be safer,” Trygg interjected, the grim male nodding in Scythe’s direction. “My brother has the ability to sense imminent danger, so he’ll be waiting for your assailant the whole time. He’s also got the lethal skills to take the bastard out in a hundred different ways.”
Chiara swallowed, loath to imagine just how deadly a massive Gen One Breed and former Hunter like Scythe could be—despite that he was missing one hand.
Bella stepped forward and offered her a reassuring touch. “Ensuring that you and Pietro are safe is the most important thing, sorella.”
“Yes,” Ettore agreed. “And that means we can’t simply hide you both away and hope that whoever attacked you decides to give up. We need to know who he is, and what he wants. We need to be sure we cut this threat off at the root.”
“And we will,” said the third member of the Order’s Rome team, their dark-haired commander, Lazaro Archer. “While you are under Scythe’s watch, my team will be working on leads in the background. If things go well, this could all be over in the next few days.”
Chiara glanced at the Breed elder. “And if it doesn’t go well?”
Lazaro gave her a grim look. “Follow Scythe’s instructions and I have no doubt that you and your son will both be fine. Leave the rest to the Order.”
So, she was essentially going to be putting herself under the yoke of an overbearing, clearly dangerous male she hardly knew and setting herself up as bait for her stalker as well. Could this situation possibly get any worse?
The answer was yes, because no matter how uncomfortable she was with the plan that had just been described to her, it would be unbearable if it meant putting Pietro at risk along with her.
As much as she bristled against the idea of being separated from her son, she knew what Scythe said was true. It would be foolish—even selfish—to insist on keeping Pietro with her.
She exhaled a shaky breath. “I will do this, but you need to let me explain this to Pietro myself. He's not going to understand it all, but he needs to hear it from me that I’m only leaving for a little while, and because I have no other choice.”
Already, her heart gave a squeeze as she pictured his big, dark eyes filled with confusion.
“You can tell him now,” Scythe said, waving her on with his left hand. “We’ll be leaving in five minutes.”
Her mouth swung open as she stared at him, incredulous. “So soon? I’ll need more time than that to say goodbye to my child.”
“Ten minutes, then. No more.”
He said it with an unyielding tone that set her teeth on edge. Was he so eager to have her under his heel that he intended to start pushing her around before they’d even left the room?
Maybe the old Chiara would have fallen in line without a squeak of resistance. The naive Chiara who had allowed herself to be swept into Sal’s lies and deceit, never seeing her mate for what he truly was until she found herself bonded to him by blood. The sheltered Chiara whose lack of a backbone had nearly cost her son his life six weeks ago when Vito Massioni came to kill them all.
The old Chiara was dead now. A stronger woman had emerged from that ordeal. And the second they were alone, she was going to explain that to Scythe.
She set her glass down on the bar with a clink and shuffled past Scythe, ignoring the heat that shot through her as her breasts brushed his chest.
Jesus, could he take up any more space?
He followed her into the hallway, his long strides easily keeping pace with her as she walked to the room where Bella and Ettore had taken Pietro when Scythe arrived a short while ago.
Through the glass in the corridor, she watched her son flip through the pages of a picture book he held in his little lap. Although he was Breed, like his father, and would one day grow up to be as formidable as any of his kind, right now Pietro was simply a little boy. Her precious, cherished child.
The thought of leaving him raked at her and she pivoted a hard look at Scythe at her back. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go.”
She started to reach for the door and was shocked to feel his fingers clamp down around her wrist. Shocked, not because she found his touch offensive, but because of the jolt of heat—of pure, sensual awareness—that brief connection sent through her body.
“Ten minutes, Chiara.” His black eyes crackled with sparks of amber as he glowered down at her. “It’s important that your assailant doesn’t suspect you’ve been shaken enough to go for help. We need to be back at the vineyard as soon as possible.”
She swallowed and took a step away from him, away from the heat his big body was generating.
Before she could open the door, Pietro was racing toward it on his own, having spotted her through the window.
“Mama!” he cried as she stepped inside with him, his chubby cheeks stretching into a dimpled smile. He held out his picture book, practically shoving it into her hands. “Read to me, Mama?”
She swallowed hard to dislodge the knot in her throat and forced a grin in return. “Okay, but only a few pages, sweetheart. Maybe we can get Aunt Bella to read to you when I’m done. Would you like that?”
He nodded enthusiastically before plopping down on the floor and tugging her beside him. Even at three years old, he had the strength of a child more than twice his age. But his face was pure innocence as he stared up at her and urged her to begin reading.
She settled him onto her lap and began reciting the words on the page.
She sensed Scythe there long before his shadow eclipsed her, but she resisted the urge to wheel around and order him out of the room. Pietro was so sensitive and sharp. All of them needed to show a united front or he would sense something was amiss. The last thing she wanted was for him to be fearful.
“You remember Scythe, don't you?”
“Uh-huh,” Pietro said, turning his cherubic face toward the Breed male. A smile lit her son’s face as he stared up at the forbidding Hunter who was a nightmare in black from his long ebony hair and the trimmed, dark beard that clung to his squared jaw and gave him a sinister edge, to the leather duster and heavy combat boots on his monstrous feet. “Hi, Scythe!”
He nodded at the boy, but his gaze was filled with warning as he glanced at Chiara.
“What’re you doing here, Scythe?” Pietro asked innocently.
Chiara cleared her throat. Before her grim companion
offered an answer that might terrify her son, she hurried to explain what was happening. “Mama has to go back to the vineyard tonight, so Scythe is going to take me there.”
“You’re going home?” Pietro’s face scrunched in confusion.
“Just for a few days, sweetheart.”
“Me too?”
“No, baby. Just Mama.” She smoothed her hand over his silken dark hair that was the same chocolate shade as her own. “I need you to stay here and keep Aunt Bella company for me. Can you do that?”
He nodded. “I like Aunt Bella. She gave me this book, and Uncle Ettore said he was gonna let me play that game with the cars that go really fast and crash into things.”
Chiara’s brows arched. “Did he now?”
At that same moment, Bella and Ettore both entered the room. Bella’s mate had the good grace to offer a sheepish shrug as Pietro launched himself out of Chiara’s arms and ran to embrace the Breed warrior.
Ettore ruffled the boy’s hair. “Easy there, champ. You’re gonna get me in trouble with your mom. That game was going to be our little secret, remember?”
Pietro's eyes narrowed and he shut his mouth, locking it tight with an invisible key.
Chiara rolled her eyes. “Nice,” she murmured, but the fact was, she couldn’t be too angry.
Pietro was enjoying his visit here tonight, and there was no question that he was in good hands. In fact, visits from Bella and Ettore were one of the few spots of normal in her son's life, and she wasn't about to begrudge any of them that. She certainly didn’t have to worry about Pietro feeling abandoned. If anything, he was excited.
“We should go.”
Scythe’s grave murmur sliced through the lightness of the moment. And now seemed as good a time as any for her to muster the strength to hug her son and say goodbye.
Through sheer force of will, she managed to hold back her tears as she held him close and whispered that she loved him, that she would be back to collect him before he had time to miss her.