Dreaming of the Wolf (Heart of the Wolf #8)(28)

Snapping herself out of her memories, she saw something move in her peripheral vision. A shadow glided quickly toward her from a drive-through alley between that townhouse and the next. A vampire, her brain registered; only of course it wasn’t. He was a man and a genuine threat.

Pepper spray already in hand, she whirled to spray him in the face, but footfalls raced directly behind her before she realized two of them were coming at her from different locations. Before she could whip around and protect herself, a sharp pain to the back of her head registered.

She felt herself falling, the can of spray slipping from nerveless fingers, heard the can clunk as it struck the stone walk, felt her body hit the unforgiving walk, and saw the red, red moon watching her as if saying it had warned her about the night. And she should have taken heed. The last thought she had was maybe it was time to bury her pain and find a new occupation.

Then the red moon faded to black.

***

“Alicia Greiston,” a husky male voice said, penetrating the darkness, but the pain in her head splintered every thought she tried to conjure up.

A hand roughly shook her shoulder. She wanted to open her eyes and see where she was, instantly remembering her mission—take Mario Constantino into custody—and her failure to do so. She’d been attacked from behind.

Was this man one of his henchmen? This really wasn’t good.

“I know you’re awake.” His voice hinted at dark amusement. The smell of cigarette smoke wafted in the air, and a sickly sweet cologne penetrated her airspace.

Then he drew closer, and she realized she was lying on a soft mattress, and he was pressing his body against her side as he leaned over her. His fingers worked clumsily on the buttons on her jacket. Oh God, what did he plan to do to her? Rape her? Torture her? Kill her? Maybe all three. But her head hurt so badly she couldn’t gather the wits to respond in any way.

He jerked the sleeves down her arms, then removed her gun holster, the gun still in it. Her head was pounding so hard that she only had a tenuous grip on remaining conscious. Her mind was slipping away into grayness until his fingers began working on her blouse buttons, which instantly gave her more clarity.

Intent on fighting him despite the way her head was splintering with pain, she opened her eyes and saw only blackness. How could he tell what he was doing in the dark? She couldn’t even see his face.

She grabbed his wrists—big, rawboned, powerful. He laughed, the sound husky and eerie.

“I knew you were awake.” He easily shook free of her hold, seized her wrists, and held them above her head. “We can do this easily or we can do this the hard way. Either suits me.”

All the moisture in her mouth evaporated. She had to fight him, but not yet. When she could, she would knee him in the groin, find her gun, and—

“I admire you, Alicia. Not just anyone could have tracked Mario down like you did with the scant clues I was able to give you. He would have killed you if you’d approached him, though. You have me to thank for saving your life.” The man’s tone was disquieting, as if she owed him and he meant for her to pay big time.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“I like that. To the point. No *footing around. I’m Ferdinand Massaro, your knight in shining armor. The one who’s been giving you clues as to where Mario is staying. They were only roundabout clues since I never could get a real handle on where he was at any one time, but you did it. Used your investigative skills to find him. Now I’ll show you what I want. Just be patient. But don’t fight me on this. I’d just as soon knock you out and take you that way. Your decision. A word of warning, though. If my brother, Danny, gets hold of you—or me, we’re both dead.”

Trying to get her rapid heartbeat under control, she attempted to stall him, realizing that the man who had pulled the trigger and killed her mother was this man’s brother. “Are you a friend of Mario’s?”

“A friend?” Ferdinand laughed bitterly. “No. His friends don’t live long. We’re cousins, if you didn’t know. He sent one of his men to kill me. Only I got the upper hand and killed Mario’s henchman first. But the assassin gave me a present before I ended his miserable life.” Ferdinand let go of her hands and went to work on her belt, but she couldn’t let him rape her or whatever he planned on doing.

With a superhuman effort, she tried to sit up, intending to hit him or kick him or something, but the pain streaked across her skull with a vengeance, and she collapsed back against the bed in a near faint.

“Hell, I figured you wouldn’t go easy. Just know this. You’re mine. The bastard who turned me is dead, but I’m not about to live alone like this. And since Mario killed Candy, you’re it, dollface. Mine.” He slammed his iron fist into the side of her head, creating an eruption of pain so profound that she cried out, and the darkness swiftly closed in on her again.

***

The sound of gruff angry male voices brought Alicia to semiconsciousness as she lay naked on a soft mattress, presumably in Ferdinand’s bedroom. Her head pounded, her arm throbbed and stung, and she couldn’t figure out why it hurt when only her head should have. The room was black as night, but a thin strip of light appeared beneath a closed door.

“You been following Mario,” a brusque man said in another room. “And Jimmy’s been following him, too. Only Jimmy’s paid for his… mistake. He said it was your idea to trail Mario. So what the hell for?”