So magnificently powerful.
So…
Hers.
Utterly and completely hers.
Harley jerked in surprise at the raw, primitive sense of possession that blasted through her.
Where the hell did that come from?
Thankfully unaware of her cavewoman impulse to drag him off and give him a reason to howl at the moon, Salvatore heaved a resigned sigh and resumed following Briggs’s trail.
“Obviously, the sooner we’re done with Briggs and back to the safety of our lair, the better.”
Disgruntled by her savage awareness of Salvatore, Harley kept a determined space between them as they ran through the darkness.
“Our lair?”
“Do I look like a fool?” He flashed a wry grin. “You would have castrated me if I’d said my lair.”
“Okay,” she grudgingly conceded. “Valid point.”
“I’m learning.”
For a time they moved through the darkness in silence, Harley absently noting that the tidy fields were being left behind and replaced by a tangle of underbrush and trees. Hard to believe that the road could lead to someplace even more isolated than the abandoned church and graveyard.
“I’ve never been to Italy,” she abruptly muttered.
Salvatore’s lips twitched, although he was careful to keep his attention to their surroundings.
“I think you’ll like the palazzo,” he said, his voice carefully bland. “It’s old, but it’s been magnificently restored.”
Palazzo?
As in palace?
Oh, that was just fan-freaking-tastic.
“Is it huge?”
“Fairly huge.”
“With marble?”
“Si, there’s marble.” He sent her an amused glance. “Do you have an irrational dislike of marble?”
“No, but I have a very rational dislike of becoming a joke among the Weres.”
The smile disappeared as his expression hardened with a haughty outrage.
“I assure you, cara, no one will ever dare laugh at you,” he said with the absolute confidence that his word was law.
And why not?
His word was law.
She shook her head, thinking back to her unconventional childhood. Caine had certainly never prepared her to become a sophisticated lady. Hell, she was more comfortable at a firing range than a ballroom.
“Maybe not to my face, but I’m going to look like an idiot in some fancy palace.” She pointed a finger in his direction. “And don’t think for a minute you’re getting me into a slinky dress and high heels.”
His husky chuckle brushed over her skin. “I’d rather get you out of a slinky dress. Although you can leave on the high heels.”
The image of her standing naked in front of Salvatore with a pair of crimson high heels sent a hot flash searing through her body.
Good…God.
“I mean it, Salvatore,” she managed to croak.
“No, you don’t,” he countered with annoying calm. “You’re just trying to find another reason to convince yourself you shouldn’t be my queen, and I won’t play. I don’t care if you run through the palazzo stark naked or wearing Prada.”
Her lips parted, and then snapped closed, as she accepted that he was right.
Salvatore was her mate.
She could feel it to the very marrow of her bones.
And her instinctive need to rebel against his claim on her was becoming downright childish.
Not that she intended to become his doormat, she wryly acknowledged.
Not all the ancient powers combined could perform that impossible task.
But it was time to be done with fighting the knowledge that her destiny was forever, irrevocably connected to Salvatore Giuliani.
“You think you’re so damned smart, don’t you?” she muttered dryly.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “If I were smart then Briggs would never have crawled from his grave, and we would be spending the night having hot, sweaty sex beneath the moon.”
Sensing his annoyance was directed at himself, Harley reached out to touch the rigid muscles of his arm.
“We’ll find him.”
“Si.”
They once again fell silent, their pace slowing as the stench of Briggs became more pronounced. Instinctively, Harley reached behind her back to pull the guns out of the holsters.
The tangle of brush and trees had thickened until it was impossible to see beyond a few feet from the road, and while her senses told her there was nothing but the usual wildlife scurrying through the shadows, she wasn’t going to take any chances.
Rounding the curve in the road, they both halted at the sight of the small cabin that looked in dire need of a match and some kindling.
Tilting precariously to one side, the paint had long ago peeled from the wood planks and the small front porch sagged with weariness. If there had ever been shutters, they had long ago disappeared, along with several wooden shingles from the roof, and at least one window.
Of course, the cabin looked almost habitable when compared to the shed with a rusty tin roof, built behind it.
Cue banjo music.
Harley resisted the urge to roll her eyes. At least it wasn’t another cave.
Breathing in deeply, she closed her eyes and sorted through the barrage of near overwhelming scents that filled the air.
It was easy to pick out Briggs’s odor that wafted from the cabin. Rotting meat was pretty tough to miss.
Not that he could have hidden his presence, even if he could disguise his god-awful stench. The frigid chill in the air would always give him away.
Taking in another breath, she ignored the vile presence of Briggs and concentrated on the scent of curs. It was no surprise to find their scent laced with a combination of fear and frustration. Even for curs, who always lived on the edge, they’d been put through hell over the past few days. It was a surprise, however, to realize their scent came from the shed, rather than the cabin.
Why wasn’t Briggs using them as a shield? More important, why would he leave them where they could so easily be rescued?
There was only one explanation.
A trap.
Salvatore moved to whisper directly in her ear. “The curs are in the shed.”
“I smell them.” She turned to meet the golden gaze that glowed with a savage anticipation. “You know he’s expecting you? This is a trap.”
“Bene.”
She clenched her teeth, torn between the urge to shake some sense into him and knocking him over the head with the butt of her gun.
Unfortunately, neither of them would keep him from waltzing straight into Briggs’s ambush.