Her Strength

Gatto

The Rosario estate was huge.

    “A sight for sore eyes, huh?” Luca said, all smiles despite the tense atmosphere we’d been driving in the entire way here.  Miles and miles, probably a fifteen minute drive through European countryside, and Luca had made sure to let me know that it was all owned by the Rosario family.

    “Sure,” I mumbled, climbing out of the BMW after him.  I’d chosen to follow Luca out since it was a better choice compared to the smiling, hair twirling demon I’d been subjected to the entire ride there.  “Where is the nearest town?” I wondered, offering a soft, innocent smile.

    Luca’s response was automatic.  “Oh, it’s just a few miles north—”

    “Very cute, coure mio,” Xavier cut in, ruining my line of questioning.

    Luca looked confused but I watched it dawn on him, expression turning to a light frown.  “You couldn’t possibly make it on foot, Violet.  The wilderness here is preposterous.”

    Xavier was beside me again.  “And the beasts that reside here are vicious.”  He smiled down at me but I recognized the threat immediately.  I got the gist that he wasn’t talking about coyotes or bears.

    “Xav, stop being such a brute,” Luca muttered, chiding.  “Our Violet here should be treated with the utmost respect.”

    I didn’t like the way he’d said “our”.  There was ownership in the word.  “I’m not a pet.  You don’t own me.”  Can’t own me.

    “Contractually, I do, love,” Xavier chuckled.  “It’s binding.”

    “What contract?” I pushed, glaring at him.  “I’ve never signed any contract.”

    “Your guardian signed it in your stead,” Xavier said, hand slipping to my back.  I took a step forward, away from his touch and his lip quirked upward.  “I’ve never been so thoroughly disliked by a female before.”

     “Yes, I noticed that.  Her contempt for you is loud,” Luca chuckled.

    “Isn’t it odd?” Xavier said to his brother, quirking a brow.

    “Perhaps you’re not as charming as you think?” Luca challenged.

    Xavier simply snorted and I just glared at him.  Charming?  How is he charming?

    “I suppose we must be related, hm?” Xavier said, c*****g his head to the side.

    “I thought the blood work was finalized?” Luca pushed.

    “No, I said it was sent in.  Not finalized.”

    “You signed the contract before the blood work came in?”

    Xavier stepped beside me, reaching out to touch my face and I slapped his hand away, making him quirk a wider smile.  “Regardless, she will be a Rosario.”  The glimmer was back.

    “Xavier, you don’t mean—”

    “She’s beautiful.”  His finger, under my chin, tilting my head back.  “Can’t you smell her?”

    “It’s just the pheromones—”

    “She smells like him,” he sighed.

    Luca pursed his lips.  “Really, Xav?”

    “A bath is in order,” Xavier said, hand slipping to the back of my neck.

    I went to pull away but his grip tightened enough to make me go along with him, up the front walk, into the large estate.  “Paola!” he called out, pulling me through the front door.

    “Signore.”  Standing just to the side of the entrance, head bowed, was an older woman with graying hair.  Lifting her gaze, it softened as it landed on Xavier, immediately shifting to a frown as her eyes landed on me.  Contempt.  Disgust, maybe?  I couldn’t tell which was more relevant to describe the expression she wore as her eyes bore into me.

    “Show Violet to the bath,” he said, giving me a nudge forward.  I took a half step, glaring back at him.  His eyes shifted over me and he smirked, “Behave, coure mio.”  Behave?  Gritting my teeth, I narrowed my eyes, watching amusement fill his features.  He was enjoying himself, I realized, and that only fueled my irritation with him.  Turning forward, my sharp gaze landed on Poala who had already turned her back to me walking in the direction with hardly a wave for me to follow.

    Lovely.

    Following after the older woman, I glanced back once at Xavier, now speaking to Luca in a hushed tone, and realized that this was probably my chance to make a break for it.  Hightail it out of here before Xavier can close the distance again, keep me unbearably close.

    “I wouldn’t suggest it,” Paola muttered, keeping a quick gait.

    “What?” I mumbled, eyes distractedly searching for an exit.

    “Making a run for it,” Paola sighed.  “You will not get far and the Don won’t appreciate it.”

    “Don?”  I’d heard of Don’s before.  It’s a title of higher status in Europe—but in a number of mafia books I’d read, it had a different meaning.  One a bit less savory.

    Paola walked in silence for a long moment, through a number of hallways, passing so many doors.  Just how big is this place?  It was fairly modern but practically decorated—lavish as it was, it seemed cold and kind of stark.  No family photos hanging on the walls, no paintings at all actually.  The walls were bare even if there was occasional statues and plants hanging about.  A surprising amount of plants actually.  When she stopped at a door, she promptly opened it to show a magazine-worthy bathroom with what looked more like a small jaccuzi than a tub and plants, hanging from a shelf overhead, the petals of many falling close to the water itself.  Hanging plants, waterfall plants, and even an arrangement of flowers lining the ledge of a large picture window right next to the tub, looking out over a large cliff, the ocean in full view.  Paola turned on the water, touching it for heat, her eyes moving back up to me.  “You should touch the water.  I don’t know how hot you enjoy your baths.”  Pursing my lips at the woman, my eyes shifted back to that window.  There was a balcony out there which, I assumed, is where that random door across the way led to.  We were only on the second floor so it couldn’t be that high of a jump to the grass below.  “Don’t worry, it’s a one-sided window.  Signore enjoys his views.”

    Of course he does.  “I can run my own bath,” I offered.  “Just show me where everything is.”

      “Under the sink,” Paola said, straightening.

      “Thanks,” I said, reaching down to play at checking the water again.  I couldn’t care less about the temperature.  I wouldn’t stay to enjoy it.

    “I know what you’re doing,” Paola sighed.  “It’s unwise to run.”

    Stiffening, I straightened, feeling like a child who had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.  “I-I wasn’t—”

    “Well, go on,” Paola sighed, gesturing to the bath.  “And good luck,” she added, shutting the door firmly after herself.

    Good luck.

    The words were kind of ominous but, the water running loudly, the door to my freedom just a few feet away—I didn’t stop to think too deeply about it.  I opened the door immediately, stumbling out onto the balcony to fond myself staring down at a small field leading to steep cliffs.  On the other side of the house, there would be a road leading out of this place.  The only problem was that it would probably be teeming with hired hands of the Rosario estate.

    Gripping the balcony railing, I had a leg over when I saw the bushes move across the way.

    Hesitating, I watched, dumbfounded, as a black jaguar stepped out of the bushes into the clearing, making its way calmly toward the balcony.  Frozen there, half over the railing, gripping it tight, I wondered where that had come from.  Xavier had said something about the woods being filled with vicious beasts, hadn’t he?  But I’d thought he was talking about vampires.  His kind.  Not . . . jaguars.

    My stomach tightened, confusion pulling at me as the cat took a seat maybe a yard off, staring up at me with blatant curiosity.

    Just sitting there, watching.

    It was eerie, almost threatening and, slowly, I brought my leg back over the railing, straightening as I stood there dumbly on the balcony.  Clearly I can’t follow through with my half baked plan if there’s a jungle cat waiting to maul me just below.

    A soft chuckle sounded just below me and I recognized it, watching as a familiar head of dark, curly hair stepped out from beneath the balcony.  “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

    The jaguar . . . it transformed.  It happened kind of fast, the fur giving way to skin, bones making almost sickly noises as they bent and shrunk—I averted my eyes as a man now stood where the jaguar had been seated, nude and clearly not bashful.  “She’s stupid.”  The voice was young, deep, and a little rough.  “Jumping from a balcony that high.  She’d break her leg in two places.”

    “She’s a fiery thing,” Xavier grinned up at me, making me purse my lips.

    A jaguar just turned into a man.

    Taking a step backwards, my eyes flickered back to the shifter—isn’t that what Cronan had called them?  Animal shifters.  He’d mentioned them in the past but I’d . . . I guess he wasn’t lying to the naïve human after all.  They’re real.  It’s real.

    “Violet, this is Gatto, your personal guard.”

    A loud tsk, clear outrage.  “Don’t tell her that’s my name!”

    Loud laughter, I watched the man shove at Xavier who was all smiles as he looked up toward me.  “His official name is Grande Gatto.”  Grande gatto.  I’m not fluent in Italian but I knew he’d just called him a big cat.

    The man transformed again, taking on the form of the large, black jaguar and took a seat, turning his body away from Xavier who immediately went to pat it on the head.  When he nipped at his hand, Xavier pulled his hand back, still chuckling.  “You can run if you’d like coure mio,” he said, still laughing softly to himself.  “But be mindful of the wild animals, hm?”

    A threat.

    I grit my teeth, realizing I was worse off than I’d imagined.

    Trapped.

    And Xavier just looked amused.  Triumphant, even.  It was infuriating.

    Heading back into the bathroom, I shut the balcony door, leaning back against it.

    A jaguar shifter.

    As horrified as I was at my worsening predicament, my heart was racing.

    Cronan told me the truth.

    Shifters are real.