Edge of Night (38 page)

“Asher. I knew it.” Erin expression remained calm and Luca thought she looked almost relieved. “From what he wrote on the card, I’m guessing he’s mad that I’m sleeping with Luca. Since he never accepted that I dumped him, he might see it as me cheating on him.”

“Thanks, Nick. I’m sorry I had to ask, but we needed to know. Fingerprinting wasn’t going to help.” Luca held out his hand, and Nick shook it. The elf’s power was under wraps again, so Luca felt only a small tingle of magic.

“Don’t make a habit of it.” Nick sighed. “If it had been for anyone other than your girlfriend, I might have said no anyway.”

Erin’s mouth opened, no doubt to protest the girlfriend label, but Luca put his arm around her and dragged her against his side. “Thanks again. We both appreciate it.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Her smile was weak, but she stepped on Luca’s toes as she walked back toward the house and left the men behind. “I’m going to go see if Carmela needs help in the kitchen.”

“I’m going to check on Stella. She’s pregnant, you know.” Nick expression eased into a genuine grin.

“No, I hadn’t heard.” Luca slapped the other man on the back. “Congratulations to you both.”

The elf gave him a sideways glance. “You’d have heard if you hadn’t skipped dinner last week.”

“Don’t remind me. Carmela left a message on my phone scolding me for abandoning my family.” Luca rubbed a finger across the bridge of his nose. “Guilt, the weapon of choice for Italian mothers.”

Nick chuckled and wandered off to find his wife, which left Luca to collect the scattered flower petals, stuff them in the bag, and toss it in the trunk. He went back to the house, intent on finding Erin and heading back to her condo. They’d stayed long enough.

“Luca,” Uncle Vito called him as he passed the library. “Join us.”

He hesitated, but it wasn’t as if he could deny the elder vampire, so he sucked it up and went into the room. The book Nick had been reading still sat on a side table. A fire danced in the hearth, and his father and uncle sat in the wingchairs before the fireplace, each holding a glass of whiskey.

“Let me get you a drink.” Vito stood and went to the sideboard to pour another glass of Glenfiddich.

Salvatore’s gaze bored into Luca, and he finally let loose what he’d obviously been thinking since Luca had arrived. “She’s practically a werewolf.”

“She’s a Normal.” Luca kept his tone mild. It never helped to incite his father.

“In your case, I’m not sure which is the greater evil.”

Ouch. That hit the mark, and he fought a flinch. The last thing he wanted was a dissection of his love life over the years. It would get ugly fast.

“I like her,” Uncle Vito stated with a grin, handing the whiskey to Luca before he resumed his seat. “She has fire in her.”

“Thank you.” Luca, still standing, walked over to stare down into the fireplace. “I like her too.”

“Like? Ha! You’re in love with her,” his father snapped. “Anyone looking at you mooning over her at dinner could see it. The family isn’t blind.”

He loved her. The words slammed into Luca so hard, he rocked back on his heels. Yes. Gods, yes. He
loved
her. A bitter laugh tried to escape him, but he swallowed it down. It didn’t seem to matter how much he’d tried to avoid it, or what excuses he gave for his ferocious need to protect her, or what safe labels he’d put on his feelings. He
cared
for her. Such a pale, pathetic phrase. He was so in love with her it scared the shit out of him. Having his father shove it in his face forced him to see it for what it was, but the emotion, the connection, had been there for some time.

Closing his eyes, he brought the glass to his mouth and drank, letting the fiery liquid burn its way down his throat. The pain was welcome, a split-second distraction from the reality of his situation. He’d never thought to fall in love again after Tess, especially not so soon. But Erin had slid under his defenses with her calm, sweet warmth, her lack of any demands, until he couldn’t imagine his life without her anymore. He’d never suspected how addicting she would be until it was far too late.

It was an addiction he never wanted to recover from.

“She’d make a fine vampire,” Vito asserted, dragging Luca’s attention back to the present.

Salvatore snarled at his brother. “Don’t even speak such foolishness.”

“Why is it foolish?” Luca asked. Looking up from the flames in the hearth, he met his father’s gaze. “We turn many Normals. It keeps the bloodlines fresh. Would you truly hate a grandchild because he or she called a werewolf cousin? Will you hate Stella and Nick’s child if it turns out to be an elf? It’s a fifty-fifty shot on which one the kid will be.”

There were no hybrids in the Magickal world. Every half-breed child had one dominant side. Vampires might claim their genes were automatically dominant, but it wasn’t true. Genetics were a crapshoot for Magickals the same way they were for humans.

Salvatore glanced aside. “I would never hate a child of Cavalli blood, but our society isn’t ready for a wolf-vampire pairing.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Luca raised his glass to eye level, watching the firelight play through the amber liquid. By not meeting either man’s gaze he didn’t have to admit how important their reaction was to what he said. These men had the power to influence how the family and the Conclave would see a match between Erin and him. A match he desperately wanted, perhaps more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire life. “But our society just might be ready for a vampire-vampire pairing with connections to the wolf pack. Times are changing.”

Vito chuckled and his brother gave him an annoyed look, which only seemed to amuse Vito more. “Your own relationship choices haven’t gone so well lately either, Sal. Let the boy figure it out for himself. I would support him with this Normal woman. Who knows? It might open some…interesting doors between the pack and the Conclave. The Cavallis could be very influential in that case, perhaps raise our profile in the Conclave and the All-Magickal Council.”

“Our influence has taken a few hits lately,” Salvatore retorted. “We would be better served by remaining conservative instead of sticking our necks out further.”

“My investigation of Dillon Hammond’s death has caused trouble for the family?” Luca had been laying low with Erin, so his intel on the inner workings of the Conclave was outdated.

Salvatore’s smile was mirthless. “After the information got out about the Hammonds illegally keeping sheep and murdering their own bloodline, we lost more influence because I’d been courting Elinor than we did for you investigating her son.”

“Which might have turned out differently if she hadn’t killed herself.” He met his father’s gaze squarely. “I’m sorry for what happened,
Papá
. I know you were thinking about putting some distance between you, but even a waning relationship can be hard to lose, especially under such circumstances.”

Salvatore cleared his throat. “Thank you. It isn’t like losing your mother but it’s…more difficult than I would have expected.”

Reaching over to clasp his brother’s shoulder, Vito said, “
Mi dispiace.”

With a nod, Salvatore accepted the condolences. He took a breath and frowned at his son. “Your leave of absence has not gone unnoticed. Some feel it’s damning, as if you felt some guilt or responsibility for her death.”

“People will have to think whatever they want. I took a leave of absence because Erin is being stalked and—”

“We know that.” Salvatore swirled his whiskey around in his glass, his voice heavy with disapproval. “But we also know she hired that assassin, Gregor, to take care of the problem.”

“
You’ve
hired Gregor to do some of your dirty work before too, Father.” Luca shifted to settle back against the mantel. “I assume you want me to go back to work and let Gregor handle it, but I won’t. You already know that. You would do the same if it were Mother.”

Vito’s chortle echoed inside his glass as he took a sip. “The boy has you there, Sal.”

“Besides,” Luca said lightly, “one would think with all the years you’d been complaining about my work, you’d be pleased to see me step back from it for a little while.”

“And doing something just as dangerous? Hardly.” His father glared. “It isn’t as if stalkers haven’t killed their victims before…or their victims’ bodyguards.”

“I’m well aware—”

His father slapped the arm of his chair. “But you’re not aware of your own safety. Be careful for once in your life. You are too reckless with yourself. This woman, she had better be worth it.”

Luca saw the tirade for what it was—his father’s fear, perhaps mingled with some of that ever-lingering disappointment that Luca wasn’t interested in making a career of politics. It was an old argument, where neither of them would change their minds. So he addressed the part that mattered. “She is. She’s worth anything. Everything. I love her.”

There, he’d said it. Out loud where others could hear it. The Earth didn’t shift on its axis, the sun didn’t go supernova. Everything stayed right with the universe, even though Luca Cavalli was in love with another Normal.

Now he just needed to tell her and pray she could feel the same way someday. That part was the one he’d never quite managed to get right.

The scent of lush tropical flowers filled Erin’s nose. Carmela had shooed her out into the immense solarium, and she’d found a hidden patio surrounded by massive ferns. There was a gurgling stream that ran along one side of the patio and she curled up on a padded lounger to watch the water flow past. It was a nice break from the awkward tension of dinner. She liked several members of Luca’s family, but others were just as snobby and standoffish as her most prejudiced wolf relative would claim of vampires.

Not that it mattered. She’d probably never see these people again. Being Luca’s “girlfriend” had an expiration date. A sigh slipped out of her and she closed her eyes, letting herself drift. This secret little alcove was serene, and she let it soothe her tattered nerves.

When she opened her eyes, Luca stood over her, an intent expression on his face. He’d loosened his tie and carried his jacket over one arm. She pushed herself upright. “Hey. What’s up?”

“I—” He shook his head, but his seriousness eased and a little smile played around his mouth. “You look peaceful.”

“Come here.” She patted the cushion beside her hip.

Tossing his jacket on a nearby chair, he settled beside her, his thigh pressed to hers, and a shiver of awareness tingled over her skin. “People are starting to head home.”

“I take it that’s our cue?” She ran a fingertip across his full lower lip. “Did you have a good time?”

“Not really.” He kissed her finger. “But then, neither did you.”

“Family. Can’t live with them, illegal to kill them.” She offered a rueful grin. “And we get to do this awkward fun again with my aunt and uncle.
Awesome.”

He chuckled, shook his head. “I love you.”

Of all the things he could have said, that was the last one she would have expected. Her jaw dropped, and the air rushed out of her lungs as shock punched her square in the stomach. “But—”

“No.”
He cut her off, emotions roiling in his gaze. A pained smile flicked on and off his face. “Don’t say anything. Don’t protest or argue or doubt. Just…don’t. I love you. It’s that simple. I don’t expect you to feel the same. I don’t expect anything from you, but I know how
I
feel. I wanted you to know.”

Her throat worked, a million thoughts colliding in her head. Terror and euphoria and disbelief. It was all too much, too unexpected. Even if she’d wanted to say anything, she didn’t think she could have come up with a coherent response. Tears welled in her eyes and her hands shook as she cupped his face. Pulling him down, she kissed him with all the ardor in her soul—all the feelings she couldn’t put into words.

With a groan, he hauled her into his lap so her legs dangled off the side of the lounger. His hands were everywhere, sliding over every inch of her. Their tongues dueled for control of the kiss. He tasted of warm whiskey and Luca. Of the two, he was the more intoxicating flavor.

He wrenched her blouse loose from her skirt, unfastened only the top two buttons, and then worked the shirt over her head. When her silky bra was exposed, he feathered his fingers over the upper curves of her breasts. The cool air on her bare skin made her shiver, a rich contrast to the heat tumbling through her. Her nipples thrust against the soft fabric, and she reached behind her to unclip the garment so it dropped to the floor.

Bending her backward over his arm, his gaze slid over her naked torso before he sucked her nipple into his mouth. He pressed a hand between her knees, working her skirt up and spreading her thighs. Stroking over the cotton of her panties, he teased her slit and continued laving her nipple. Letting her head fall back, she slipped her hands into his hair. Her sex clenched each time he swept his tongue around her areola, and she felt how slick she was, how ready.

“Touch me,” he growled against her breast. “I want your hands on me.”

She drifted her fingertips over the muscular slope of his chest, annoyed by the barrier of his shirt. Sitting up, she tugged at his tie until the knot came loose. She slipped the length of silk free and tossed it in the direction of his jacket. It missed the chair, slithering to the ground. Oh well. She went to work on his shirt, sliding the buttons from their holes so she could press her palms to the downy curls that sprinkled his pecs.