Chapter 2

CHAPTERTWO

Dom shook the rain from his black ceremonial cloak before carefully passing it to the waiting attendant.

"I always feel like a bloody reaper wearing this thing," Arkon complained as he shrugged his own cloak off and tossed it, hoping the attendant would be quick enough to catch it. "It makes every public event feel like an execution."

"Today was an execution," Dom pointed out, unable to match his friend’s upbeat energy after such a sad display.

"Pisani knew the law like everyone else. He was the one stupid enough to get caught. Dumb bastard."

Arkon was tall and slim of build but deceptively strong under his well-cut clothes. Dom had seen him use a sword and pitied anyone who would challenge him to a duel.

As a notorious rake, Arkon had been in more than one and had the value of experience behind him.

He had dark curly hair with an occasional streak of silver, cut in a respectable style, but his curls were generally a mess from his habit of pushing his hands through it.

Arkon’s dark, clever eyes were now moving appraisingly over Dom.

"God have mercy, you are grim today. You’re meant to be the youngest and most fun out of this lot. What’s the matter?"

"Nothing. I’ve just been working too much." It wasn’t a lie. Dom had been up late reading through the latest war reports on the conflict in Croatia, and he had slept poorly afterward.

"I’m sure your father has you running about, doing all the shit jobs that he can’t be bothered with. You need wine, women, and gambling, my friend, and badly. I, for one, would like to get roaring drunk after that show. As if Venice isn’t gloomy enough in November! Are you sure it’s not girl trouble? Really, Dom, I’m worried about you."

"Liar. You just want someone to drink with you, and I’m the nearest target." Dom couldn’t help but smile at him. Even though he knew it was a dangerous mistake, he liked the lanky sorcerer. "Why don’t you go and bother Nico D’Argento?"

Arkon snorted. "Nico is too caught up hunting pirates and being gallant to come and play with me. Besides, I don’t want just anyone to drink with! I want my sad, possibly lovesick friend Domenico to drink with me. I can find you another girl to fall in love with if you like, although a handsome fellow like yourself really shouldn’t need my help. What happened to what’s her face? The brunette with the legs?"

"Bianca Rossi was a passing acquaintance, nothing more. The tabloids were more interested in her than I was," Dom replied.

Bianca was from another shedu family, and Dom’s father, Rodrigo, had been pushing him towards dating her because of her ’good bloodline.’

Dom and Bianca had been on two dates before he had gone out at Carnevale and met a woman full of mystery and passion.

Unfortunately, the former had prevailed, and the masked misteriosa had remained just that.

She had written her phone number on the Star card of his tarot deck, and when he had finally gotten the courage to call her, he had found that the number had been disconnected.

She knew who he was, though, and she had never reached out. Not once.

The ink of her number had smeared on his Three of Swords card, which was fitting because being stabbed through the heart three times was exactly how he felt when he thought of her.

That one encounter was enough to tell him that he couldn’t date Bianca. Despite her beauty, they had as much chemistry as two cold pieces of pasta slapping together.

The misteriosa had made him feel like his blood was on fire, and worse still, she had made him laugh. A truly remarkable feat for anyone in recent years.

Her scent of honey, nutmeg, and woman had seared onto his brain, and even eight months later, he was still thinking about her.

"Poor Bianca! She must have been devastated by the loss of your family money and connections," Arkon said with a dramatic sigh, but a knowing smile. "Come now, Dom, let’s go out. I’m bored, and you’re miserable; I’m sure we can find cures for both."

"Domenico will have to decline, Grand Sorcerer," Rodrigo interrupted, appearing at Dom’s side like an ominous thundercloud. "He is due for a family dinner tonight, and Carmella expects him."

"Ah, I wouldn’t dare upset the Golden Lioness for all the wine in Venice," Arkon replied and bowed to them both. "Another time, Dom."

Rodrigo waited until Arkon had strolled away down the marble corridor of the Doge’s palace before he turned all of his paternal disappointment onto Dom.

"Be careful of that man. He delights in playing the fool to get information out of people."

"I am aware, father. I have actually met Arkon," Dom said, trying to keep the annoyance in his tone to a minimum.

Rodrigo liked to forget that Dom was a man of thirty-five and not some sixteen-year-old in need of instruction.

"You know what I mean, Domenico. Watch yourself with him and all of the Council members. We can only trust family. Never forget that. Given the opportunity, any one of them would tear the Aladoro House to shreds and pass our Council seats onto others."

Rodrigo loved to bring up their reputation and the good Aladoro name in his lectures in a misguided effort to encourage Dom’s loyalty to the family. As if he needed it.

Unlike his father, Dom was actually of Aladoro blood. Rodrigo had married into the family and taken Carmella’s surname for the prestige, history, and influence that came with it.

Not that Dom would ever dare remind Rodrigo of that fact. There were some fights that were not worth starting, if not for his sake, then Carmella’s.

"You mentioned Mother has a dinner tonight? Which philanthropic cause is it this time?" Dom asked.

"No charities tonight. She only wants you around for a family dinner, and it would hurt her feelings if you didn’t come."

"Since when do we do family dinners?" Dom asked. Rodrigo’s pissed off expression changed to something approaching penitent.

"Your mother and I decided it was something we would like to start. We are working on making our marriage better, and that includes being better parents to you. Me, especially. We used to be close, and I would like to be again," Rodrigo replied.

Dom fought not to laugh in his face. They had never been close. Every now and again, Rodrigo would try to become a decent husband, but it always ended in tears. Usually his mother’s.

"It would mean a lot to Carmella if you came," his father pressed. "Besides, I don’t want you out getting drunk with Arkon if it can be avoided tonight. I recognize the dangers, even if you don’t. The people are always tense after an execution, and I wouldn’t want them attacking you out of some kind of misguided revenge."

Dom wasn’t stupid enough to think Rodrigo was actually concerned with Carmella’s feelings or for Dom’s safety. Rodrigo was playing an angle—he had to be—but Dom had learned the hard way that sometimes it was easier to play along.

"It will be good to see mother, and I’m sure I owe Grandfather a game of chess."

"Yes, well, he is always about the palazzo, although much slower these days." Rodrigo couldn’t quite hide the resentment in his tone over that, despite his ’new leaf’ mood.

Caesar Aladoro was still the Patriarch of the House of Aladoro despite his age. Shedu, like all magical creatures and magic users, had a longer life span than most, but the fact Caesar was about to turn one hundred and hadn’t conveniently died yet irked his father to no end.

Rodrigo was still trying to get his hands on Carmella’s full inheritance and the title of Patriarch that came with it.

Dom smiled in a deep secret place within himself. The problem with his father was that he liked to underestimate the Golden Lioness’s intelligence, and she was inclined to let him. She always was the better chess player and knew the value of patience.

If Rodrigo had stopped to consider anything but his own ambition, he would have realized that Carmella was the one who was not only the legal heir to the Patriarch seat, but who also had all of the support and love of Venice due to her good works and generosity.

Most importantly, she had been close friends with the current Doge Giordano Loredan since they were teenagers.

Dom adored his mother, and Rodrigo had used that against him his entire life. He would have been surprised to learn that Dom was merely waiting for the glorious day when Carmella had enough of her husband’s bullshit and brought him down.

Dom was patient too.

* * *

It wasclose to midnight when Dom found himself walking through the drenched streets of San Marco on his way home to his small palazzo in San Samuele.

He had stayed at the Aladoro family residence longer than he wanted to and had drunk more than he had planned in order to tolerate his parent’s attempts at pretending that Rodrigo might actually mean his temporary moment of reform.

As much as he loved Carmella and Caesar, Dom had moved out of the large palazzo at twenty, after he received the results of his alpha status. It was better for everyone that he had.

The only way his mother was satisfied with the arrangement was if Antonio, one of the family’s oldest servants, went with him. Dom knew it was his mother’s way of keeping track of him, but Antonio had raised him more than Rodrigo had, so he was glad to get him out of the ever-tense Aladoro household.

The rain had stopped during Dom’s walk, and the night was pleasantly quiet. After Council meetings, an execution, and a family dinner, Dom was glad for the silence.

Often when he couldn’t sleep, he would roam the streets at all hours, trying to work out whatever was bothering him enough that he could calm his cluttered mind.

Dom halted as the sound of blades clashing and people yelling came from a nearby alley.

You shouldn’t interfere, his voice of reason said. Then the wind whistled down the alley, and his shifter senses were assaulted by the smell of nutmeg and honey.

Misteriosa. He caught a whiff of blood, and Dom’s shedu roared. His clothing shredded as gold and black wings exploded from his back, his skin shifting into golden fur-covered muscle. He shook out his black mane and launched himself in the air without thinking twice.

He circled the square before soaring over the narrow alleyways, following the sounds of a brawl.

There were four men against two, one body already on the ground. One of the fighter’s hats was ripped off, and a braid of gold tumbled out. She ducked and twirled, each hand wielding a stiletto the length of her forearm.

Found her at last.Dom tucked in his wing’s and dropped fast into the fray. He wasn’t about to lose her again.