Her Strength

Brothers

“Ciao!” a voice rang out as I stood in the doorway of the jet, my eyes landing on another man, dark featured, strong jawed.  I just grimaced deeper, noticing how the man’s energetic wave seemed to eb as he realized I didn’t have a matching enthusiasm.

    I was just . . . pissed.

    I’d been seated in eerie silence, glaring at a wall for the rest of the trip to “the Rosario estate” somewhere in Italy.  I’d thought about hijacking the plane, demanding that the pilot take me back but . . . I had no idea which direction the cockpit was and what I assumed to be a Pureblood vampire was seated less than a foot away, mindlessly clinking the ring on his middle finger to a glass of whiskey resting on his knee, phone in the other hand.  Every once in a while he’d look up, catch me glaring at him and quirk a brow, making me force my eyes back to the far wall.  The clinking would continue, irritating me, mocking me—and my eyes would slide back to him, taking him in, trying to find a resemblance between us.

    Black curly hair, strong build—he had a deep tan, almost Greek complexion and his eyes were dark as an abyss.  It didn’t match my pale complexion and light eyes at all.  Even though both of us have raven black hair, mine isn’t curly.  There’s hardly any bounce to my hair at all while his is tight curls.

    Brother, he’d said.

    Suggesting that my mother what?

    Cheated on my father?

    On dad?

    It’s just not possible.

    It’s a mistake.

    This guy—Xavier—has got the wrong person.

    “Is this her?!” the man quickly approaching the bottom of the stairs called up toward us.

    Us.

    Xavier was positioned far too close for comfort and turning, I glared up at him, taking in the glimmer in his dark eyes.  “Coure mio, cheer up.  It’s a beautiful country full of opportunity.”

    “Opportunity,” I scoffed, turning forward to glare back at the man now offering his hand out to me.  The closer he’d gotten, the more I found I recognized those features.  The resemblance between the man before me and the one behind was telling.  Brothers?

    The man before me beamed.  “Ah, those eyes!  Bellissima!”

    “Violet,” Xavier called.  Turning, I glared up at him, quickly realizing he wasn’t speaking to me.

    “Yes, her eyes—”

    “Her name,” Xavier corrected.  “It’s Violet.”

   The man, hand outstretched, looked awed.  “Violet.”

    I glared at that hand, making my way down the steps, brushing past the man—Xaviers’ thinner look-alike.  His smile slipped a bit as I passed and, glancing backwards, I saw the two men exchanging a look.  While Xavier looked almost . . . proud, his look-alike looked deflated.  It irritated me that the brush off seemed to please Xavier.

    “Esuberante, no?” the man muttered.

    “She’s thrilled to be here, Luca.”  Xavier chuckled.

    It was an oddly airy noise that came from the beastly man behind me.  Both men were fairly large and threatening but with a wide smile and affectionate clap on the back, I saw them both seem to relax around each other.

    “Brothers?” I wondered aloud, pursing my lips.

    “I’m Luca Rosario.  Second son of the Rosario Estate.”

    “How many of you are there?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

    Xavier smiled, taking a step closer, into my space again.  “Interested in your family, eh?”

    I met his gaze with a stony expression.   “Just wondering how many road blocks there will be on the way to gaining back my freedom.”

    Luca seemed to tense at my statement.  “Road blocks to her—”

    “Il mio re!”

    Xavier turned and I could see what I assumed was our pilot stepping out of the door.  Dressed in a short sleeved white dress shirt, black tie, and fitted black slacks, the man bowed his head, hand clutched over his chest.  I immediately recognized the stance—and the word “re”.  King.  He’d addressed Xavier as his King.

    “Puoi parler,” Xavier huffed.

    The man kept his head bowed.  “The man in the back room.  What would you have me do with him?  Shall I call—”

    “I’ll handle it,” Xavier said with a dismissive wave.

    Man in the back room.  I took a step toward the plane but Xaviers body shifted, easily positioning himself in my way.  “Cuore mio—”

    “What man?” I asked, shifted a step sideways, glancing toward the plane.

    “It is inconsequential.”

    Another person?  On the plane?  Who?

    “Xav, what’s going on?” Luca wondered.

    Xavier sighed, glancing back at Luca.  “She brought some baggage with her.”

    “Baggage?” Luca wondered.

    Xavier shifted his body fractionally, to look at his brother, and I took off.  Straight into the plane, nearly knocking the pilot down the steps.  The door to the cockpit was open so I knew to go toward the right.  Toward the back of the plane.  Two doors.  One toward the side, one toward the back—the back.  I’d just tossed it open when arm’s were around me like a vice, pinning me to a hardened body.  I couldn’t even thrash, couldn’t fight—large, crushing.  His hand gripped my throat, forcing my head back, arching my back.  “You’re a fearless thing for a human.”  Upside down from this angle, I was peering up at him, dark curls falling across his forehead—Xavier was frowning down at me.

    “Zech,” I gasped, knowing what I saw.  Who I saw.

    “You used a different name for him last night,” Xavier whispered.

    Gritting my teeth, I hissed, “I don’t remember.”  It was infuriating.  All of the things the gold eyed creature possessing my body had done last night are a mystery.  The conversations, the deals that were broken—I didn’t understand it.  I don’t understand it.  Ripping at his wrist, I felt my breathing change, all the panic bubbling to the surface as I tried to understanding why Zech would be here, unconscious, on Xavier’s private jet.  How could he sleep at a time like this?  Was he sleeping at all?

    A deep hum.  The rumble made my eyes flutter and I felt his grip on my neck loosen a bit.  “I won’t hurt him.  He’s your . . . guest.”  Xavier scrunched his nose at the word.

    So he’s . . . alive?  Zech is alive.  “Please,” I breathed.  “Just let him go.”

    “He came of his own volition.”  Xavier gave a light shrug.  Now that he’s here, now that he knows where you are, he’s not going anywhere.”  There was finality in his tone.  I felt tears prick my eyes, bottom lip trembling and watched him roll his eyes.  “Don’t look at me like that, cuore mio.  You shouldn’t cry for a man guarding the Thanisius family.”

    “But—”

    “Come,” Xavier whispered, cutting me off.  He’d turned me abruptly, hand slipping to the back of my neck now, dragging me toward the plane exit.  Sniffling, wobbly, I’d only taken two steps before my legs gave out.  Xavier picked me up with ease and I thought about struggling, fighting him off, but the way he tucked me against his chest, the deep rumble of his hum rushing through my body—exhausted, boneless, I could hardly keep my eyes open.

    “Xav.”  It was Luca, beside us now, calling out to us.  “Xav, what’s—”

    Xavier shushed him, the rumbling stopping for just a moment—but it was enough to let me open my eyes, to watch as the door of a black BMW was opened for us by a driver with his head bowed, hand pressed over his chest.  “You’re one of the Kings,” I breathed, hating how that hum had continued now.

    “Yes.”  He set me down on the seat, sliding me in further so he could get in next to me.  I scooted toward the the other door, to open it, to escape—but Luca was already climbing in, taking up residence in the back passenger seat now.  I glared hotly at him, taking in his surprised expression, shivering when I felt Xavier’s hand start stroking my hair.

    Turning, I hissed, “Don’t touch me.”

    Xavier’s lips quirked upward.  “You didn’t mind it last night.”

    My lips parted, my chest seizing up as I searched his expression for a lie, a joke.  Last night?  His hand slipped through my hair again, arm over the back of my seat, body pressed close and I . . . I shifted back toward Luca, putting as much space between Xavier and I as I could.

    “You’ll like the estate,” Luca said, chipper.  Turning to him now, expression just as scathing, I watched his expression shift to a sheepish one, eyes moving to his feet.  “It’ll be a bit of a transition but I promise we’ll take care of you.”

    “Take care of me?  Like a dog?”

    Xavier chuckled and Luca gave me a shocked look.  “No, that’s not—”

    “Am I a pet to you?” I hissed, glancing between the brothers.

    “A prized pony.”  There was laughter in Xavier’s voice and it just grated on me.

    “Stop it, Xav.  She’s mad,” Luca grumbled.

    Xavier’s hand in my hair, stroking, mocking.  “She’ll calm down.  Won’t you, cuore mio?”

    “Stop calling me that,” I snapped, slapping at his hand.

    There was a snort, more laughter from the brute beside me and Luca just sighed in response.

    I noticed the driver glancing back at me in the mirror and his expression—he thinks I’m crazy.

    Is it because I’m talking back to his “re”?

    Glaring up at Xavier, feeling his hand stroke my hair again, unbothered by my outbursts, I noticed his dark eyes on me, that same taunting glimmer in them.

    This wasn’t how I’d expected a King to behave.

    That easy grin, the mocking tone—“How old are you?” I wondered with a frown.

    Xavier’s smile remained, expression oddly calm.  “Old enough, mio coure.”