They clung to one another, fighting for air, fighting to calm their pounding hearts. Byron didn’t move, his body melting into hers. They lay locked together as they were meant to be.
Antonietta. My love. I love you very much.
She knew his face now, even more vividly than she had before. Every detail was etched in her memory, both from her fingertips and seeing him through his eyes. His whisper was against her throat. His words found their way straight to her heart. Antonietta feared she was very much in love with her dark poet. She slipped her arms around him, holding him to her, not wanting him ever to leave her. All through the night she held him close. Each time he woke her to make love to her again, she turned to him eagerly. She loved the soft whispers and shared laughter, and she didn’t want their time ever to end.
Chapter 11
Antonietta woke to the knowledge she was in danger. Tiny beads of sweat formed on her body, her heart pounded in terror. She fumbled at the nightstand for her dark glasses to cover her eyes even as her mind reached for Byron. She found a dark, black void instead of comfort. Her lungs burned for air. Where was he? And what manner of monster prowled just outside her windows, seeking a way in.
Byron.
She called his name sharply. Imperiously.
Where the hell is my white knight when I’m in danger? Wake up!
Predatory eyes watched her with a single, focused purpose. Antonietta could feel the burning malice in the stare. With a slow, unhurried movement, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Drawing the sheet up to her chin, her hand went out instinctively to the dog. The borzoi remained absolutely silent, but she could feel the tension vibrating in the animal’s body. Celt was on the alert, his posture that of a hunter. It was night, Antonietta didn’t know how she knew, but it was definitely night. Once again she had slept away the day. Something terrible and dangerous prowled outside on her balcony, looking for a way into her home. A dark malevolence poured into her room.
I am with you. Stay connected to Celt.
Byron sounded calm.
Something heavy thudded against the stained glass. Pushing relentlessly, steadily, scratching to get in. The dog bounded to the window, a ferocious protector rushing with teeth bared and ready. The breathing coming from behind the thick walls was a terrible thing to hear. It sounded like air rushing through a tunnel. The footfalls should have been silent, but Antonietta could hear the soft padding across the balcony, the nails scraping on her windowsill.
It’s at the window, trying to get in. I can’t hold Celt back. He’s pacing between the windows. I’m afraid, Byron.
Antonietta pulled on her robe. She smelled the pungent odor of the large, heavy cat and wanted to gag.
It wants me. Not just anyone, but me. I’m not being hysterical. I can feel it reaching for me.
Her body itched beneath the skin, much like it had when she had been so terrified as a child, knowing a bomb was on her parents’ yacht. Her senses sharpened even more. There was clarity in her mind and a tunnel narrowing to take in and amplify every sound. Colors shimmered, reds and yellows, brilliant and vivid and blinding. Antonietta couldn’t shut them out. She was seeing with another part of her, not her eyes, and the colors remained in her mind. The colors took on the blurry but recognizable form of a large animal. Bright splashes of red at its chest and abdomen, surrounded by shades of orange fading to a perimeter of glowing yellow. She watched a paw print, pale yellow fade to blue and disappear and realized she was seeing body heat. Thermal images as the animal went from window to window, pawing and scratching and digging to get in.
I have it now. Jaguar. Large one. Celt is tracking its movements. Get out of the room. Go downstairs into Franco’s wing and remain with him until I reach you. I am on my way.
Antonietta didn’t need to be told. The sheer malevolence coming from outside the thick walls of the palazzo was alarming. She could feel black hatred. A need to rend and kill. “Celt, come with me.” She yanked open the door.
The cat yowled. A nasty note that climbed to a high-pitched scream of rage. Sensing she was getting away, it slammed its body against the stained glass nearest the door. She heard the terrible thud as the heavy body rammed the glass and lead in a determined effort to gain entrance. There was the ominous sound of something cracking. Celt growled low in his throat. Antonietta heard a crunch as the borzoi closed its great jaws over something she was afraid to identify. She felt, more than heard, the dog shake its head savagely.
Get out of there. He will hold the cat at the window. Close the door behind you. I won’t leave Celt alone in here. The jaguar is evil. I feel it.
She wanted to drag the dog out, but no amount of coaxing or commanding could call him from the window.
Do as I command.
Byron used a soft voice, pitched low, one that cut deep into her mind and forced obedience when her entire nature insisted she couldn’t leave her dog behind to face evil.
Byron exploded out of the earth, a black vapor cloud streaming relentlessly through the sky. One part of his mind followed Antonietta’s progress through the palazzo, down the sweeping stairs and through the long rows of rooms toward the wing where Franco and Marita resided. Another part of him stayed connected with Celt. The borzoi locked on to the muzzle of the cat, slashed and crunched and let go, springing back. The jaguar retreated with a hideous screech of pain.
The dog tracked the cat across to the far window. Outside, on the balcony, the jaguar leapt to the roof, scrambled for purchase, and jumped up to the battlements, running across the narrow ledge to reach the tower. Celt lost sight of the cat. The borzoi tracked back and forth between the windows several times.
Go to her. I will hunt.
Byron knew he was too late. The cat had a head start. Apparently some internal warning system had alerted the creature that a predator was stalking. Byron could only hope for a lead, a small mistake to give him an idea where the jaguar’s lair was. The scent and trail would be fresh. He had no choice but to uncover the newest danger to Antonietta. Why did they all want her dead?
The borzoi easily opened the door to Antonietta’s quarters and unerringly followed her scent through the palazzo, bringing a measure of relief to Byron. He turned his full attention to hunting the jaguar. The cat had to have a lair somewhere, unless it was a member of Antonietta’s family. If that were the case, it might double back and enter the palazzo in human form.
If it is one of my cousins as you so clearly suspect, why wouldn’t they simply shift inside the palazzo and attack me from within? And don’t think you’re going to get away with sending me from my room without Celt. We’re going to have a long discussion about boundaries.
He ignored her comment, focusing on her intentions.
What are you thinking, Antonietta? Do not dare to search the palazzo. Don’t you see? If the cat is out there, and my cousins are all in their rooms, it can’t be one of them. I’m going to check on Franco and Marita, and if they’re here, I’ll check on Paul and Tasha.
Byron swore eloquently in several languages.
You will do no such thing. Where is that dog? Why is he not with you? He’s here, and stop fussing at me.
Antonietta knocked on her cousin’s door. Although dark, it was early enough in the evening that everyone should be up.