Rayne climbed up a pillar and reached above her head for a handhold.

Rain poured down her and her clothes were soaked. Grimly, she pulled herself up to the first set of windows, balanced on a railing, then leaped upward. Her hands caught ornately carved stone and she climbed up to the second set of windows.

She had to get to the roof.

Below, she heard the escalating screams of the crowd. Hail rattled down with violent fury.

A hailstone hit her shoulder with brutal force, causing her to lose her grip with her left hand and swing outward. She kept her right hand clamped to the stone and pulled herself back in. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Dammit. Venti was going to kill them all. Ignoring her aching shoulder, she kept climbing.

She reached the top and hauled herself over the ledge.

Then she saw them.

It was the first time she’d seen one of the Tempest Winds in real life. At first glance, Caecius didn’t look like an evil monster. In fact, except for his dark beard, he looked similar to Luca. Same powerful build, dark hair, and chiseled face.

But she knew he was pure evil. She felt it pumping off him. He embraced the vice his wind carried and infected as many people as he could with it.

She glanced at Luca’s face…and froze.

He was smiling, his eyes the same frosty white-blue she’d seen earlier. Her heart gave a solid thump. Anger was driving him and taking him over.

If he gave into it fully, he’d lose himself, and he’d become as rotten as Caecius. If Luca joined the Tempest Wind…the two of them would destroy the world.

Caecius lifted a hand and several tiles tore off the roof. They shattered and deadly shards flew at Luca.

Luca waved an arm and most of the projectiles blew off track.

But one got through. Rayne watched Luca jerk, a shard of terracotta lodged in his gut. He let out an enraged roar, gripped the shard, and yanked it out. Then he lifted a hand. More tiles flew up into the air and arrowed at Caecius.

Rayne ducked down, and saw Caecius dodge. The Tempest Wind was grinning. She was sure he sensed that Luca was on the edge.

She had to stop this.

Rayne sprinted across the roof. As she neared the men, she dived forward.

And tackled Luca to the ground.

He roared, twisting to look at her. His eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Helping you!”

Luca turned his head and then slapped a palm against the tiles.

She followed his gaze and saw the Tempest Wind running along the rooftop. He leaped into the air and landed on a neighboring building.

Luca sat up. “I have to catch him.”

She gripped his arms. “No! Not until you get control of yourself.”

“I am in control.” He stood, dragging her with him. “You let Caecius escape.”

“You’re pelting the crowd below with hailstones the size of baseballs, Venti. You’re hurting more people. You, not Caecius.”

Luca’s mouth thinned to a hard line and she saw her words didn’t register through his rage.

How to reach him? Then she remembered seeing him in the darkened square, taking a beating from those men. Letting those men hurt him. Gathering her courage, she threw a punch, catching him in his rock-hard bicep.

He took a step backward, but didn’t fall. His hands curled into fists. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You need to snap out of it.” She lifted her hands. “The pain, it helped you regain control. So attack me.”

A deep frown cut across his face. “No.”

She kicked out again. A wicked roundhouse that caught him in the jaw. His head snapped back.

“Fight me,” she yelled.

He shook his head, but she saw the way his jaw clenched tight. She moved in low and snapped a chop to his thigh.

This time he growled and lunged forward.

She braced herself for a hit. Instead, his big body rammed into hers and took her to the ground. She fell flat on her back with an enraged Warrior of the Wind on top of her.

Damn, he was heavy. She stared up at his face and felt his chest rising and falling rapidly. She stayed still, watching him. The rain had plastered his dark hair to his head and his white shirt stuck to his bronze skin. He felt icy cold.

She bucked beneath him. “Fight me.”

“No.” His eyes were ice-white.

She wanted to scream. She’d failed. Doing something, taking action, had achieved nothing. And she’d failed Luca too. She stared into his handsome face. He’d spent a life dedicated to protecting the world and he was becoming the very thing he’d fought against. He deserved better.

Rayne cupped the sides of Luca’s face and pulled his mouth down to hers.

She moved her lips against his and he froze. His big body tensed above hers, then he made a choked sound and his tongue delved into her mouth.

His hand moved to her face, moving her head to deepen the kiss. Oh, God. Rayne forgot where she was, sliding her tongue against his.

Luca Venti kissed exactly how she’d expected him to—hard and all-consuming.

She slid her hands down to his broad shoulders, her fingers digging in and her hips lifting. She felt something else under the hard, delicious rapture of his kiss. A need. Like he needed her kiss to survive, like she was the air he needed to breathe.

Damp heat hit Rayne and she pressed her thighs together. When Luca raised his head, she moaned at the loss of that mouth.

His gaze locked with hers and she saw a swirl of deep blue in his ice-white eyes. As she watched, his irises returned to blue and his skin warmed. Thank God.

He cupped her cheek. “You are either very brave or very stupid.”

“I’ll go with brave.”

Those strong fingers stroked her cheek, his eyes so intense that she was having trouble breathing.

“I’ve heard the Aurae can help a Warrior control his vice—”

Her muscles tensed. She’d heard the myths as well. “I’m not sleeping with you for the good of mankind!” She shoved at his chest but he didn’t move. “I’ll do what I can to help, but when I take a lover, it’s because I want to, because it’s my damn choice. I didn’t come here to fall naked at your feet like all the other women in your life, Venti.”

“Shh.” His finger briefly touched her lips and then he rose, his weight lifting off her. He held out a hand. “Unfortunately for me, it seems you calm my anger without us having to get naked.”

She stared at his hand for a moment before reluctantly taking it. When she looked around, she noted the hail had stopped.

“I need to help my people.” He moved to the edge of the roof, taking her with him. He looked down, shadows flickering in his eyes. The sound of sirens echoed around them. “Rayne?”

“Yes.”

Glittering blue eyes traced her face. “Grazi.”

She swallowed. “You’re welcome, Luca.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Not really.”

His fingers tightened on her hand. “I deserve that, but you can.” He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her, and stepped off the roof.

Rayne’s breath caught in her chest. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him. They fell, but instantly a strong wind caught them and lowered them gently to the ground. She glanced at Luca’s expressionless face. He had so much power inside him.

He released her, squeezed her hand, and then strode back into the square.

She watched as Luca moved through the crowd of people who’d gathered in front of the burned-out shell of his hotel. But she only had eyes for Luca’s broad form as he talked with the polizia, comforted a crying woman, and talked with a bedraggled man in a hotel uniform whose hands were bandaged. He carried an aura of power and authority that seemed to soothe people in the middle of a crisis.

But as Luca took care of things, she noted that he seemed stiff, not his usual fluid self. She knew he’d been injured in the fight, but she also knew he had enhanced healing abilities.

She moved over to him. “How badly are you hurt?”

“It’s healing.” He swiped a hand through his sodden hair. “I just need some rest.” His intense blue eyes burned into her. “You should go. Luckily, Caecius didn’t realize what you are. If he does, he’ll come after you.”

“I’m a trained Aurae warrior.” She wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone.

Luca leaned in. She smelled smoke on him, but also the scent she knew was pure Luca, pure male. Then a grimace crossed his face and he staggered.

Rayne wedged a shoulder under his arm. “Luca.” She caught him but his weight almost took them both down. The shoulder that had been hit by hail earlier lit up with pain.

Another spasm on his face. “Hurts.”

God, his skin was burning hot. She used one hand to push up his sodden shirt. The white fabric was now wet, and stained with soot and blood.

She bared a hard, six-pack stomach, and she saw where the tile shard had hit him. The wound had partly healed, but was an angry red and swollen. She hissed out a breath. It had to be agony.

“There must still be some tile in your wound.” And his body was healing over it.

He let out a groan and she saw his face was tight with pain.

“Come on.” She turned him, taking more of his weight. “We need to get somewhere safe so I can clean your injury.”

His arm tightened on her. He looked conflicted and she knew instantly that Luca Venti was a man who didn’t give his trust easily, or ask for help.

He nodded and they limped out of the piazza.

* * *

Luca clenched his teeth and breathed through the fiery agony in his gut. Rayne led them into the backstreets and each step was torture.

He stared down at her face. Her hair was damp and one cheek was streaked with soot. But there was no mistaking the determined gleam in her green eyes.

There was strength in Rayne Santini. A solid core of it.

Dio, the way she’d launched herself into the fight, the way she’d kissed him, saved him. Luca was used to being the shield, not being shielded.

“You should be afraid of me.”

She lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid of you, Warrior.”

Luca knew he should tell her to go. He should get far, far away from this tempting, fascinating woman. He needed to focus on hunting down his enemy. Revenge was a burning need inside him. Except when he looked into cool green eyes the color of freshly-cut grass, and he felt the hard throb of anger ease.

They moved through the backstreets of Venice, neither one of them talking. They passed a couple perched on a railing beside a canal, caught in a passionate embrace. Luca scowled. These two were lost to the real world and its hardships. For them, everything was perfect and shiny.

He felt a brief spurt of…something. He looked away and focused on Rayne’s slim neck and hair the color of his favorite Chianti. Life had never been shiny or perfect for him. He’d lost his mother when he was young, then his father had been killed by the Tempest Winds. And all his life, Luca had carried the weight of knowing he was the leader of the Warriors of the Wind. That he had a duty to protect.

He studied the strong profile of Rayne’s face. Something told him that life hadn’t given her an easy path either.

They crossed a small arched bridge. Rayne stopped in front of a terracotta-colored building wedged between similar ones, all painted in bright colors. Wrought iron railings, dark shutters, and blooming flower boxes gave the old building character. She leaned him against the wall, unlocked the door, and helped him inside.

The décor inside was…feminine. The curtains were floral, the colors light and airy, and the furniture delicate twists of wood. He felt like a bull in a china shop.

“This isn’t your house,” he said.

She flicked him a glance.

“It’s not your style,” he continued.

“It’s an Aurae safe house. We have a few all around the world.” She led him down the hall. “Let’s head to the library.”

The pain in Luca’s gut was a roaring, insistent burn. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other. When they entered the large room at the back of the house, his gaze went straight to the tall windows overlooking a lovely little canal. In here, there were no frills. This room was all warm woods and comfy suede couches, complemented by cushions in rich jewel tones.

She helped him into an armchair, the movement jostling his wound. Air hissed through his teeth.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“This suits you.” He eyed the hundreds of books lined up on the shelves.

“It’s my favorite room.” She walked to a small bar area with a marble countertop and sink. She pulled open a cupboard. “And yes, I decorated it.” She grabbed what looked like a first aid kit. “Take off your shirt.”

Luca unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off with a wince. “I thought you didn’t want me naked.”

She rolled her eyes and knelt by his chair. When she looked at his stomach, she let out a loud hiss. “Jesus, I can’t believe you’ve been walking around like this.”

He glanced down. Okay, the swollen, angry red wound wasn’t pretty.

Rayne pressed a finger gently to the gash. “You have a shard left in there.” Her gaze flicked up. “I need to cut it open and pull it out.”

Luca nodded. “Do it.”

She rose to her feet in a lithe move and strode to another cupboard. This time, she came back with a bottle of whiskey. She handed it to him.

Luca took a large swig, enjoying the burn in his throat. He heard her moving things in the first aid kit.

Then silence.

“Do it,” he bit out.

A sharp blade touched his skin.