She shook her head and stared at the wall over his left shoulder. “I said I’d help. I’m not backing out. And if I’m going to—” She took a deep breath. She wasn’t ready to go there. Not yet. “Anyway, I should get used to this, right? So, how’s this going to work?”
Diego cursed under his breath, something vicious and Spanish. She didn’t have a clue what he’d said but she was pretty sure it was directed at her.
“Amy Jo, we don’t—” He bit off the rest of the sentence but she knew what he wouldn’t say.
They didn’t need her. And why would they? Up until this point, she’d been nothing but a liability. Hell, what if she got out there tonight and froze during a crucial moment? Or more importantly, freaked out?
She stared blindly at the wall in front of her as fear swept through her, chilling her to her core.
“
Shit
.” Diego’s growl sounded positively feral, drawing her gaze to his as he grabbed her hands. “Look at me. Amy Jo.”
“No, you’re right. This is a mistake. I shouldn’t be here. I should go—”
“
Hell
no. Damn it, woman, shut up.”
His tone made her breath catch in her throat. He was pissed and his expression made her heart stutter.
“I don’t want to leave you here.” His voice was pitched low and harsh. “I don’t want you out of my sight and that pisses me off. But I don’t want to traumatize you any more than you already are. And, damn it, I’m going to shift in a few minutes and it infuriates me to know that a part of me is abhorrent to you.”
Her eyes widened. “What? No—”
“
Don’t.
” He slashed a hand through the air. “Just go back to your room and wait for me to get back. And don’t make me put a guard on your door. When I get back, we’ll talk—”
“Diego, nothing about you is abhorrent to me.” She couldn’t believe he thought that. Framing his face with her hands, she drew him closer, staring into his eyes. She couldn’t care less that the four other people in the room were making it
too
obvious they were trying not to listen. “Just the opposite. But I gave my word and I’m going. With all y’all,” she added. “So, how
will
this work?”
Diego didn’t look any happier but she felt some of her fear recede. The emotion underlying his words hit her with more power than the words themselves.
It took him a few moments to respond but finally, he cupped her head and drew her close for a short, hard kiss.
Then he stalked over to Marco, leaving her to wonder if she really understood what she’d agreed to.
* * *
Diego knew he was in deep shit even before he kissed Amy Jo.
That kiss only confirmed that he’d finally lost his mind.
He was falling for a biter.
He’d never liked that term. It was derogatory and not at all how he felt about her. Hell, he wasn’t sure
how
he felt about Amy Jo. He only knew that if something happened to her, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
But Bella needed him right now and duty demanded he help.
That left only one other person he trusted to make sure nothing happened to Amy Jo.
“Marco.”
His brother lifted his eyebrows as he leaned against the wall farthest from Amy Jo, who’d moved next to Bella. “You’re toast, man. You know that, right?”
Yeah, he knew it. But that didn’t mean he had to admit it. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”
Marco shook his head, the grin ghosting around his lips pissing off Diego. “Never figured you’d let yourself fall, especially not for someone like her.”
Diego felt a growl start low in his chest. “Watch what you say, brother. Or I’ll take your head off.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Marco nodded like he’d just discovered something he’d known but wasn’t happy about. Then he leaned in close to Diego, his gaze holding strong. “You hurt her, I’ll maim you.”
Diego felt white-hot fury consume him for the five seconds it took him to realize Marco was truly worried about Amy Jo. Then he released it on a heavy sigh.
“I don’t want to hurt her.”
“I know that.” Marco shook his head. “Then don’t.”
What the hell could he say to that? “Don’t let her out of your sight. You guard her exclusively. Let me and Dorian and the kid worry about Bella.”
Marco’s laugh sounded more like a grunt. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to your mate, brother.”
Diego’s mouth dropped open a split second before he caught it. A mess of emotions he couldn’t—and didn’t want to—put a name to landed in his stomach and twisted it into knots.
Mate
.
Marco was messing with him, trying to get a rise out him. He opened his mouth to deny it…and caught the words back. Because Marco was dead serious.
Mate.
Marco’s brows rose and a sarcastic smile curved his lips. “What? You didn’t know? How clueless are you, brother? Good thing dear old Dad’s already dead. This would’ve put him in the ground for sure.”
True, their father would’ve had a brain aneurysm if he’d even suspected Diego was thinking about mating a woman who wasn’t descended from
versipelli
royalty. But Amy Jo wasn’t—couldn’t be his mate. She wasn’t…
Wasn’t what?
Hereditary? True. And if she were, would he be having as much trouble believing Marco’s claim?
Hell, three months ago, she hadn’t known about
versipelli
or the magical races. Then she’d been brutalized and left for dead and somehow miraculously lived through it and found her way to Bella.
To him.
No, Marco was wrong.
And even if he wasn’t, that didn’t mean Diego had to make her his mate. He’d never planned to take a woman, hadn’t wanted to subject anyone to the constant threat of the
grigori
life.
He stared at Marco and saw one more reason why a relationship with Amy Jo could prove detrimental to everyone’s health.
Marco wanted her, too.
If Amy Jo truly was Diego’s mate, he’d want to rip his brother to pieces for looking at her.
Instead, he felt strangely relieved that Marco would also be there to protect her.
Damn, this was fucked up.
Shaking his head, Diego practically ripped the pants off his legs.
“Just…don’t let anything happen to her.”
* * *
“Now, Alpena, you should take notes,” Turan said. “The boy has impeccable manners.”
Still holding the bow, Steven saw Alpena lift one wing in what looked like a vaguely obscene gesture but her amused snort left him with no doubt as to what she thought.
“Oh please. You’ve been gone for so long—”
“Alpena.” Turan’s voice held a sharp edge. “Let’s not go there just yet. We have a lot to talk about and very little time.”
And that’s about the time Steven realized what information his brain had been trying to work through.
If this
was
Turan, then something truly amazing had happened.
All Etruscans knew that around the second century AD, the
Involuti
, the founding deities of the Etruscans—Uni, Tinia, Menrva, Turan and Veltune—had retreated from this world to Invol, their home plane of existence.
No one knew why they’d disappeared, why they’d deserted their people and the rest of the pantheon. No one had heard from them or seen them for two millennia.
And now Turan had returned and chosen
to talk to
him
?
Or had he finally lost his mind?
As a kid, he’d been taught to worship the gods and goddesses. The Christians called his people pagans. Steven had long believed them all—Christians and pagans—to be fools, allowing their lives to be dictated by the whims of deities who demanded obedience and gave nothing in return.
Who refused to help a little boy who only wanted to be accepted by his community. But who was forced into exile with his parents because he was different. Dangerous.
“Steven.” Turan’s voice broke through his thoughts and he straightened from his bow when she wiggled a finger at him. Their gazes caught and held, Steven mesmerized by the vivid blue of hers.
“Yes, we have much to answer for,” she said. “We’ve been gone too long. And not yet fully returned. There’s been damage we will never be able to repair, losses we can’t overcome.”
Steven heard a wealth of sorrow in her voice and pure fear shot through him. What could make a goddess that sad? It had to be something horrendous—
“Listen closely, Steven. We don’t have much time. They’ll come looking for you soon and I’ve already bent a few too many rules. You’re going to have to make choices soon, choices that will affect a great many things. It’s not by chance that you became a lawyer. But justice is not righting wrongs. Justice is balancing the scales.”
Looking straight into her eyes, Steven now saw streaks of color that matched her hair swirl through her eyes.
He took an involuntary step backward and swallowed, hoping like hell that his voice didn’t break when he spoke. “Where am I?”
“In the basement of a home in the Garden District,” Turan said. “It took many months to clean up after Katrina. Alpena insisted on hiring local laborers. Took longer than I would have liked but Alpena insisted they needed the work. Would you like to see the rest of the house?”
Turan snapped her fingers and Steven blinked to find himself in another room. Bookshelves lined three walls while the fourth held a lifetime worth of photos.
He moved to examine the wall more closely, drawn by the familiar faces. The photos spanned most of his life. There were pictures of him as a toddler, as a child, a teenager, an adult. The most recent appeared to be from the plane trip with Bella today.
“What is this?” His voice emerged as a whisper.
“Each of these pictures represents a choice,” Turan said. “Not every choice is the right one but sometimes there
is
more than one right choice. You’re going to have to choose, Steven. A choice only you can make. But one that will affect those you love. Arabella—”
“Leave her out of this.” He heard menace in his voice and didn’t try to hide it.
Turan smiled. “That was never a choice. Your lives are bound, whether you accept that or not.”
He couldn’t and wouldn’t. He refused to put her in danger. “What choice are you talking about?”
“Now, that
would
be cheating.” Turan smiled. “Don’t worry, you’ll know it when you have to make it.”
“I won’t use my magic.”
Turan’s smile widened. “Yes, that is a choice you’ve already made. Will it be the right choice? Time will tell.”
“Of course it will.” He sighed and let his head drop back on his shoulders—and stared at the cathedral ceiling. “Look, if you’re a goddess, why can’t you just zip forward in time and fix whatever imbalance there is?”
Alpena slapped him on the back of his head with her wing. “Because it doesn’t work like that, silly. Jeez, for such a smart guy, you’re surprisingly stupid.”
“Alpena, really,” Turan gave the
folletta
a wry grin, “Although her delivery may be a little rough, she’s correct. I do not control the power I once commanded.”
Shit. That really didn’t sound good. In fact, it sounded downright terrifying. Because when the deities didn’t have power, the world didn’t work correctly.
This situation was getting more surreal by the moment. He surreptitiously grabbed the flesh of his inner arm and twisted until it throbbed with pain. Damn, he wasn’t asleep. At least that would explain a lot of this.
“Why did you snatch me off the street?” And then he remembered why he’d been in the street. Fear dropped into his stomach like acid. “Cole? Christ, is Cole okay?”
“Cole will be fine,” Turan said. “He’s lucky Arabella is so very smart. We took you at that time because you were alone. You’ve been difficult to catch alone.”
“It’s been kind of a strange week.” And wasn’t that an understatement.
“Yes.” Turan nodded. “Strange. And it’s about to get even more so.”
* * *
Amy Jo stood next to Marco, determined not to freak.
She wanted to watch, wanted to see what happened, examine it rationally and maybe, just maybe, it would make sense.
“It’s considered impolite to stare.”
Marco’s voice rasped in her ear, startling her with his nearness. She turned to see him standing behind her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Should we leave?”
He shrugged. “No, just don’t watch. Talk to me.”
Right, talk. “There’s so much I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you didn’t have the best introduction to our world, did you?”
Marco’s wry grin, so similar to Diego’s but with a lot less sarcasm, made her hormones sit up and dance. Which was just not good. She’s slept with his brother. She had feelings for his brother. But there was something about Marco—
God, she was
so
screwed up.
She dropped her gaze and shook her head.
“Hey, Amy Jo.” His voice lowered even further, soothing and sexy as hell. “Talk to me.”
“Does it ever stop hu—”
She broke off as she heard the first sounds of transformation behind her. Bone ground against bone and cartilage stretched and popped. Her breath stuck in her chest and she couldn’t catch her breath. Her muscles shook with the urge to run.
“Hey, babe. Look here. Look at me.”
With an effort, she lifted her gaze to tangle with Marco’s. His eyes, so similar to Diego’s, caught and held hers. “When they’re done, they’re going to pick up their leashes and give them to whoever they want to lead them out. Never pick up someone’s leash unless they hand it to you. It’s rude and sometimes it’s considered aggressive. It’s a good way to have your hand bitten off.”
Why didn’t she hear any screaming? She screamed a lot when she changed. The process of reforming your entire body into another shape was painful. And completely insane. She—
“Hey, Amy Jo.” Marco grabbed both of her hands and squeezed. His hands, huge and warm, calmed her heart rate just a tiny bit. “Did you hear me?”
She took a deep breath and focused on Marco. “Yeah, yeah. Never put a leash on a…a
versipellis
unless they give you permission. Otherwise you might be missing a few fingers.”