Moon Bound (4 page)

Built in the early 1800s, the three-story brick structure presented itself to the
eteri
world as a strip club. What the human world didn’t know— Well, it was probably better they never found out.

When he finally forced himself out of the car and walked to the door, he didn’t recognize the suspicious bouncer. The guy made no bones about finding his scent disturbing but waved him through into the dark, cool hall when Steven told him he was there to talk to Harry.

The temperature drop might’ve helped his headache if not for the throbbing music. His eyes nearly popped out of his head with pain.

And the power…

He swallowed hard. Hell, this better not take long. The
arus
in his blood simmered, threatening his hard-won control. And his gut clenched as he sensed something else.

Damn it. Bella was
here
. He felt her.

Anger, hot and biting, rose from his gut into his throat. She knew, better than anyone, why he shouldn’t be here. She also knew him well enough to know he’d check here for her.

He stalked into the main room, ready to rip someone’s head off. Scaninng the dingy surroundings, he saw a dozen or so
eteri
at tables on the floor, eyes glued to the lone stripper working a pole on the catwalk.

The blonde wore a black leather thong and nothing else and had to be at least six foot.

Definitely not Bella.

At the long bar to the left of the stage, Steven nodded to the young guy behind the bar, his ears curiously pointed beneath long dark hair. The guy stared at him, a sneer on his lips and a hint of fear in his eyes.

Steven didn’t bother to acknowledge either. “Where’s Harry?”

“In the back. What do you want,
stregone
?”

Steven didn’t bother to correct him. The designation was mostly correct. He was a witch. It just didn’t have any bearing on his life now.

“Nothing you can help me with. Just get Harry.”

The
linchetto
—with those ears, he was definitely an Etruscan night elf—smirked. “Maybe you want to rethink the ’tude, buddy, or Harry’ll have your balls for a snack.”

Steven opened his mouth to tell the kid where he could stick his threats but a section of the wall behind the bar opened and Harry walked out.

Short, dark-haired and sharp-featured, Harry had owned this club longer than anyone could remember. No one knew his last name. Or his age. He wasn’t
versipellis
of any flavor. And he wasn’t
stregone
, although he was of Etruscan descent. He admitted to that much. No one bothered to ask him any other questions, because he wouldn’t answer.

Harry didn’t seem surprised to see him, even though Steven had broken his ties with his old life years ago. Still, he shook his head and waved Steven through. “In the back.”

Steven followed Harry into an office not much bigger than a walk-in closet. Steven didn’t bother to sit on one of the two wood chairs. He wouldn’t be here that long. Harry sat on the edge of the battered wooden desk and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man.”

Grief sideswiped Steven, the pain so unexpected and sharp, he had to breathe through it. Damn Harry for going directly for the jugular.

He managed to nod in acknowledgement but he’d been knocked sideways by the true respect in the other man’s voice.

“So,” Harry continued, “what’dya want?”

Steven took a breath, pushing the pain aside. “I’m looking for Arabella.”

Harry nodded. “Heard you’re down in Florida now. Working for a firm called Case and Jones.”

Why the hell would Harry know that? Or care? “Arabella. Is she here?”

Harry just stared. “Yeah, she is, Castiglione. Or should I call you Carter?”

His blood pressure started to rise. “Either is fine. She sent for me.”

Harry sat silently for several seconds before jerking his head at the wall behind him. “It’s full. Just a warning.” Then he turned and pushed on the back wall until it slid away. “Try not to get yourself killed,
stregone
.”

A long hall appeared, the floor dirt, the walls stone. The throb emanating from the end of the hall reminded Steven of large machinery. The engines of hell.

Idiot. You know what’s down there
.

Yeah, he did. Bella.

His feet started moving, carrying him down the long hall even as his brain kept trying to talk him out this.

By the time he reached the door at the other end, the increasing noise level had inflamed his formerly receding headache. His eyes narrowed against the pain.

Christ
. Emo-pop. And it sounded like the band had a few extra players tonight.

Forcing his eyes open, he pushed through the door into the gloom of DownBelow.

Carved into the bedrock beneath Harry’s club and several other buildings on the block, the amphitheater had been here for centuries. And had remained secret just as long.

Dim light illuminated the space from above, though there were no visible light fixtures in the entire space. Hell, there were no visible means of electricity at all.

Any
eteri
who got into DownBelow wouldn’t think twice about that fact. Then again, no
eteri
were allowed into DownBelow. You had to have Etruscan blood to gain entrance. Which meant the
Mal
could get in, as well, though violence was forbidden. Harry’s domain was a sanctuary. No fighting. No weapons. No use of magic for violent purposes.

Wards covered every centimeter of the place, blocking any sound from leaking beyond the perimeter.

Free of cigarette smoke, the air instead was glazed with magical power that fueled the wards. Gemma, the band’s
strega
, had already woven the basis of what would be one hell of a powerful euphoria spell.

Christ, this was going to be pure torture.

His
arus
rose again, dark and seductive, followed by the almost overpowering urge to let it consume him. To burn him into infinity and forever rip him from the world in which he’d been raised.

Then sanity returned.

He glanced at Harry, who’d followed behind. The other man stared back, sympathy in his dark eyes.

Steven’s back stiffened. He didn’t want sympathy. Didn’t need it. And fuck Harry for thinking he did.

He walked into the steamy mix of the crowded club, a prayer to the Great Mother Goddess for the strength to continue on his lips.

* * *

Bella sensed a door opening, felt the fine hair on her nape rise.

Steven
. He was here.

Her heart kicked into a painful rhythm. After three long years, it took everything she had not to run to him and leap into his arms. She wasn’t sure he’d still catch her.

He was probably pissed that she’d sent him a deliberately vague note and lured him out of hiding in Florida.

Dancing in a dark corner of the room with a group of local
lucani
, friends she hadn’t seen in years, Bella slid a glance over her shoulder and found him searching the room with his eyes only. The dark hid more than the runes carved into the walls from that navy-blue gaze she knew so well. If he wouldn’t use his magic, he’d never find her if she didn’t want to be found.

Steven was nothing if not stubborn. But he was leaving himself open to attack. Already, a few of the younger males, foolish boys who couldn’t sense the power he submerged so well, eyed him like a side of beef.

Of course, the women did, too, but for completely different reasons.

The long-haired teen who’d come to her rescue a decade ago had matured into a man with a fondness for custom-made Italian suits and hundred-dollar haircuts.

The look fit.

Damn him.

But so did worn jeans that molded strong thighs and t-shirts that clung to the taut muscles of his chest. For years, that had been his wardrobe. No longer.

While the other club patrons were practically naked, what little clothing they wore black to better absorb the magic, Steven stood out in more ways than being overdressed. He was taller than almost everyone else and, if challenged, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself from attack. At least, not with the claws the
versipelli
here could grow.

Of course, if he used his
arus
… He could kill them all.

But he wouldn’t. She knew that.

Damn him, he needed her, belonged with her, and the Blessed Goddess spite him if he didn’t finally admit it. She was sick of waiting.

Bella started around the room, keeping close to the wall as she circled toward him. He knew she was here. His eyes narrowed to slits and his fists clenched at his side. But she kept one step ahead of his searching gaze.

The band had kicked into high gear, Dilby’s clear vocals overlaying Caeles’ shredding guitar in a dead-on version of Bullet For My Valentine’s “Tears Don’t Fall.” The raw emotion of the song raked nails down her spine.

Her body still moving to the beat of the music, she drew in a deep breath and picked out his scent, the mix of musk and male and magic that was uniquely Steven. It took her back, back to when he’d been her world. Back to when she’d believed he loved her enough to stay with her forever. No matter what.

A man grabbed her around the waist and ground her hips into his, moving in a primal rhythm that elevated her blood pressure. The stranger was handsome, young and strong, everything she should want. She disentangled herself from him without a second thought and continued.

Steven’s eyes narrowed even more as she slipped behind him, several people still between them. Maybe he hadn’t submerged all his abilities, after all.

Maybe there was a chance—

Kerri Donato approached him, white-blond hair to her waist, wearing black leather shorts and a shredded white tank top that barely covered pendulous breasts. She oozed sexuality in an invitation Steven couldn’t miss. Or ignore.

The woman rubbed herself against him, her front to his back. He didn’t move. He knew better. When Kerri slinked around to his front, he looked down at her, his gaze taking in all she wanted him to see. His nostrils flared and his gaze arrowed down between her breasts. He was a man, after all.

Then he dismissed her with a slight shake of his head.

Kerri’s expression turned incredulous as Bella’s own smile widened. The other woman wasn’t used to being brushed off. When Steven continued his search for her, Kerri huffed off, drawing just enough unwanted attention to Steven that Bella began to get concerned.

Someone would realize soon enough what he was. Then they would tear him to shreds.

Stupid Arabella. Still thinking only of yourself. Again.

Still behind him, she moved to within inches, inhaling his scent and letting it seep through her body, into her chest, where he lived in her heart. Blessed Goddess, she’d missed him.

Steven tensed a split second before she whispered in his ear.

“You’re in danger.”

He didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge her at all, except for the clenching of his hands at his sides.

“The only danger I’m in, you put me in, Arabella.” He didn’t bother to turn. He knew she would hear him.

She huffed but he was right, to a point. She had to get him out of here now. She saw Kerri jawing to her friends on the other side of the stage about the jerk who’d offended her.

“Then I supposed it’s up to me to save your ass this time. Come on.”

He turned and the anger in his eyes knocked her back a step. Anger directed at her. In all the years she’d known him, even the last time she’d seen him, his anger had never been directed at her. It made her heart shrink to realize just how pissed off he was.

Your fault. All your fault.

Turning, she headed for the door through which he’d entered, knowing he’d follow. Steven wasn’t stupid. He knew if he stayed any longer, one of the men would challenge him.

Neither of them needed that. Steven wouldn’t use his magic to defend himself, and she was still shaken by what had happened last week.

Instead of heading through Harry’s office, Bella turned left into another hall. She didn’t need light to see the way. And even though Steven couldn’t see as well as she could, he should be able to follow her with his senses only. If the stubborn fool would use them.

Serve him right if he walks into a wall.

The brat who lived in her head, the voice she’d tried to control, to smother, for the past three years piped up. Bitchy, spoiled rotten.

That wasn’t her anymore.

The brat snorted.

Bella wanted to slap her.

At the end of the hall, the metal door needed only a push on the right spot to open. They stepped into the alley behind the club, the space so narrow a car couldn’t fit through.

Her nose twitched at the musty odor, but the scent of the man behind her made her thighs ache to wrap around his waist while he buried himself deep inside her. She remembered warm summer nights, making love under the stars at the Castigliones’ house in Chester County. She tilted her head to look up at the sky. Bruised and swollen clouds obscured the nearly full moon and stars.

Her skin itched, just as it had her first time. She wanted to howl. The wolf wanted out.

She had control of her change now.

She just couldn’t control him.

She turned to face Steven, his gorgeous lips set in a straight line as he glared at her.

Fine, she’d break the ice.

Her back straightened and she settled her hands on her waist. “Someone tried to kidnap me last week. They wanted me to get to you.”

Rage and fear fell into Steven’s stomach like acid.

Rage that she’d made him come after her, forced him back to the world he’d left behind three years ago.

But the fear… The fear sunk hooks deep into his stomach.

His gaze flew over her. He didn’t see any outward bruises but she wasn’t lying. He knew Bella. She was spoiled, willful, uncontrollable, passionate. But a liar? It wasn’t in her.

He took a deep breath, forcing down both emotions before they overwhelmed him to the point that he couldn’t think. “What happened?”