Spell Bound (Darkly Enchanted) (15 page)

That source was scowling at her, and he had a perfectly gorgeous scowl. It made his sharply defined features even more handsome, from the straight slope of his nose to his high cheekbones.

She frowned in return but said, “My parents are Celeste and Kyle Tedaldi.”

She bounced against the door as the car hit the shoulder. Borelli jerked the wheel back to the left as he steadied the car. Then he shot her a long glance that took her in from head to toe.

“You’re lying.”

Her mouth dropped open. Of all possible responses, that hadn’t been one she’d imagined. “Why would you say that?”

He snorted, making her more angry and confused by the second. “I don’t know what game you’re playing but you can’t be Celeste’s daughter. Is the kid your son?”

Completely confused by his belligerent attitude, she rubbed a hand over her throbbing left temple. “Leo is my brother. Our mother ca— sent for me to get him a year ago. I’d…been away from home.”

“Bullshit.”

Her temple gave a short, sharp tug and she rubbed it with one finger. “It’s the truth. Why would I lie about something like that?”

“Where did they live?”

“Wisconsin.”

She could see him thinking about that, processing the information.

“Look—”

“Listen—”

They broke off.

Gabriel took another look out the rearview then sighed. “Alright, something’s off here and I need to know what it is if I’m going to protect you. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you’re Kyle’s daughter, but you aren’t Celeste’s.”

Shea’s temples began to pound in unison. “Why would I lie about that? What would I have to gain?”

“You can’t be Celeste’s daughter. If you were, you’d know why.”

What the hell was he talking about? He wasn’t making any sense.

Then again, maybe she didn’t want to know. “Well, I am but I don’t.”

He snorted. “Come on, Shea. You’re smart enough to have gotten this far, but don’t think I’m gonna believe you’re the answer to everyone’s prayers.”

Confusion bit into her headache, trying to breach the wall the spell had erected against the pain. Surprisingly, the voices were a barely perceptible buzz in the background. “What does that mean?”

Gabriel stole another look at Shea, taking careful note of the purple aura that marked her
strega
. He searched for the black streaks that would identify her as one of the thirteen women he was sworn to protect. He didn’t find a trace of black. Just a whole lot of jagged red lines. Pain.

She managed to keep that pain out of her expression, her beautiful face unmarked by it. She was a true beauty and, from the photo he’d seen of Celeste, she had been, too. Still, there were a lot of beautiful, dark-haired women in the world.

And none, as far as he knew, had yet been born to break a five-hundred-year-old curse.

“Borelli, if you have something to tell me, just spit it out.”

He shot her another quick glance, found her staring straight at him through those lifeless brown contacts, her expression a mix of fear and confusion. Without stopping to think, he released the wheel with his right hand and grabbed her arm.

At first, he felt nothing and that was shocking. Then, as if a wall had fallen, thoughts that weren’t his own flooded his brain, whispered bits and pieces of conversations he couldn’t understand. He could make out nothing coherent, but the intensity of the link began to grow.

He knew he was driving, but, suddenly, it didn’t matter. The voices were speaking to him and he had to listen harder, had to understand—

The voices cut off as Shea ripped her hand out of his with an agonized cry.

Holy shit.

The car veered to the left this time as his hand twitched, jerking the wheel and nearly taking out the car coming toward them. The driver laid on the horn and shot him the finger as Gabriel fought to get the car and his body under control. His muscles shook against the unreasonable urge to grab her hand again and listen to the voices. They needed him.

“What the hell was that?”

He heard fear in his voice and hated it. Hated that she’d done this to him.

“
Vaffanculo
, what the hell just happened?”

“Don’t touch me.”

No shit. “Yeah, I got that much. Just tell me what the hell that was.”

She made a sound low in her throat, somewhere between a moan and a sob. “My own private hell. Did you find out what you needed to know?”

“No. Explain.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.” She paused and he wasn’t sure she was going to continue. Then she sighed. “The voices have always been there. My mother used to call them my guardians. As I got older, I learned to ignore them. To build a mental wall and keep them to a manageable hum.”

Well, shit. Whatever was wrong with this girl, it was major. She’d managed to keep her and the kid one step ahead of Dario’s men for a year, and that took a fair amount of brains, so he ruled out just plain crazy. Schizophrenia was a possibility, and he was sure there were a dozen other mental illnesses she might have that could account for the voices.

But whatever it was, it was scary. And she lived with it daily.

“Did Celeste ever tell you why you hear voices?”

Shea shook her head and let her gaze meet his. He really hated those contacts.

“She just said it was my curse to bear. I’ve learned to live with them, to mentally wall them up most of the time, but they’re never truly gone.”

Oh, no. No way. No fucking way. He didn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe. “You really want me to believe you’re the one, after all these years?”

She shook her head again. “What are you talking about? The one what?”

She looked dead serious, confused as all hell and terrified. He had the unbelievable urge to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay.

Could it be possible?

Hell, after the life he’d lived and the things he’d seen, he would have admitted that anything was possible. But to think this girl was finally the one, after five hundred years? And she didn’t know?

He wasn’t sure he could accept that.

“Borelli. The one what?”

He wasn’t going there yet. “Did your… Did Celeste ever talk about her family, her
boschetta
?”

She paused again, this time longer. Then she asked, “Are you telling me she had family?”

“Did she tell you about her past?”

Shea sighed and he heard disgust in the sound. “My mother didn’t talk much.” At least not to her. Her mom just looked at her with those sad eyes, her disappointment so clear in the flat line of her mouth. “My dad…”

“What about your dad?”

A small smile tried to lift the corners of her mouth. “I never doubted his love. He taught me how to fight, how to read, how to write. How to think. I could handle a knife long before I knew how to add. He was a school teacher before he met my mother. He was older than her—”

Borelli snorted as he navigated the dark back roads.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“Oh, come on. If you really are Celeste’s daughter—and I’m not saying you are—then you know how old your mother really is. You know the history. And if you don’t, then it just proves my point that you’re not her daughter.”

Shea didn’t know what to say to that. Well, she had a few things, but telling the man who’d saved Leo from certain death that he could stick his head in his ass probably wasn’t a good choice.

Still, his denial of her parentage was starting to grate. Even she could see the resemblance between her and her mother. More than she wanted.

But if Borelli wanted to play twenty questions then she’d play along. But she wanted some answers of her own.

“Tell me why you’re so sure I’m not…Celeste’s daughter.”

“What did Celeste tell you about the curse?”

She frowned. “You mean the voices?”

“No, I mean the curse.”

A cold shiver made its way up her spine. That one word sound so…ominous. She really didn’t want to ask but knew she had to. And she knew she wasn’t going to like the answer. “What curse?”

He fell silent again, eyes checking the rearview every so often.

Something too much like terror started to creep through the agony of her building migraine. “Borelli, what the hell’s going on?”

The minute the question left her lips, she wished she could take it back. She didn’t want to know.

Blessed Goddess, she was so screwed up. Which should be expected from someone who’d been twelve years old before she’d seen another person other than her parents. Before she knew there were things like telephones, televisions and radios.

This curse he kept talking about…something else her parents had failed to mention. But Borelli would, if she had to pester, sweet talk or bully him all the way to wherever the hell they were going.

She took a deep breath and started on her second option. “Please. I need to know.”

He shot her another look, his eyes narrowing. “When we get where we’re going. Rest until then. You don’t look too good.”

That’s because the blocking spell was wearing off and the migraine was gaining strength.

For a brief second, she considered badgering him until he gave her the answers she wanted. But her head hurt too much.

With a huff, she turned to look out the passenger side window. A few crowded developments gave way to open fields filled with waist-high corn on both sides of the two-lane road. They passed a few old stone farmhouses and brick churches and drove through a covered bridge to more fields.