Chapter Three
Antonio stared into Sophia’s wide blue eyes and felt…stripped. He wondered what she thought of him now, and if she could see through to the rot staining his soul.
A small cry beside him had him turning his head. The woman he’d rescued was huddled against the wall, her eyes blank with shock.
He kept his voice gentle, and crouched. “Stai bene?”
She gave him a shaky nod. “Grazie.”
“Go home now.” He helped her up.
After another nod, the woman ran down the hall, her footsteps echoing off the walls.
Antonio swung back to Sophia. “You should do the same. Leave Florence and go back to America.”
Sophia ran her hands up and down her arms. “I saw you control the wind. You’re a living legend.”
“You need to forget what you saw.”
She gave a short laugh. “How can I forget any of this?” She shook her head. “I came here for my career, but also to find out the truth about the Warriors of the Wind. I’ve been obsessed since I was a little girl.”
He heaved out a breath. “Why?”
“My parents brought me to Florence when I was a child. I saw a man use the wind to spray water out of a fountain over five young boys…” She broke off, her mouth dropping open. “It was you. Your brothers, your father. One of the boys saw me, and he winked at me.”
Dio. Antonio remembered. A hot, sunny summer’s day at the Fontana del Nettuno. He was the boy who’d winked at the pretty young girl with pigtails and big blue eyes.
“Antonio, from that day, I’ve believed there was a seed of truth in every legend. It fueled my interest in art and art history.” She gave a little laugh. “Guess I found the seed.”
Antonio grabbed her arms, smoothing his palms over her chilled skin. “I’m a man, Sophia, not a legend. I have flaws, weaknesses.” He could see she still looked a little shocked and dazed as she absorbed the news. His gaze zoomed in on the pulse pounding under the fine skin at her temple. “I have wants and desires.”
“What’s your wind, Antonio?”
“The West Wind.” Unable to stop himself, he touched a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. It was so silky. “And like Corus, my wind also carries lust.”
She pulled back with a sharp breath. “What? But you hunt the Tempest Winds—”
“All the winds carry vices. The Tempest Winds choose to embrace them.”
She went still. “And you resist.”
“I try.” Every hour of every day. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
She moved into step beside him. “It affects you? The lust?”
He gave her a tight nod. “I’m more susceptible. Corus will try to break me.” He glanced sideways. “And he knows me better than I’d like.”
Bang.
They both spun, Antonio pushing her behind him. Ahead, at the end of the hall, a set of ornate double doors had slammed open.
A harsh wind swept through the hall, ripping at their hair and borrowed clothes. It scratched over their skin.
Antonio’s jaw tightened. He had to end this.
He pointed in the opposite direction. “Find a way out.” When she nodded, he turned back, preparing for what he was about to face.
A hand gripped his arm. “Antonio?”
He held his breath and Sophia stepped in front of him. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Be careful.”
He wanted to kiss her, but it was a temptation he couldn’t afford. With a nod, he turned away, battling to put her out of his head and focus on the fight ahead. But that small touch burned into him, warming the cold places inside him.
It gave him the strength he needed to face his nemesis.
Antonio stepped into the large ballroom. It was decorated in a traditional style, very different from the dark decadence of the orgy room. Windows cast morning light across the parquet floor. Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling and gilt-framed mirrors ran along the opposing wall.
All showcasing Corus’ reflection.
The Tempest Wind stood in the center of the room. His dark hair was brushed back, highlighting the planes of his face and the empty darkness of his eyes. His lips quirked. “Nice outfit.”
“I’m done talking, Corus.”
Suddenly, Corus smiled. A blinding show of teeth. “She’s so pretty. So delicious.” He shot a charming smile over Antonio’s shoulder. “You have excellent taste. I can’t wait to sample her.”
Antonio felt Corus’ wind, heard stumbling steps and a feminine gasp. Sophia tumbled to the ground beside him.
Gritting his teeth, he stooped and helped her up. “You okay?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get very far. His wind caught me—”
“I’m so glad you could join us, Sophia.” Corus took a few steps closer, his voice smooth and seductive.
Antonio thrust out an arm. “Leave her alone. This fight is between us.”
Corus ignored him, focusing completely on Sophia. “I am Corus, darling.” He held out a hand. “Why don’t you join me?”
The Tempest Wind’s voice drifted in the air like a lovely song. Antonio watched as Sophia’s jaw slackened, her eyes glazing over. She took a step forward.
Antonio slapped a hand against her chest. She blinked.
“You will not touch her,” he ground out between his teeth.
Corus’ smile widened into something nasty. “Stop me.”
A wily breeze twirled through the air. It fluttered through Sophia’s hair and trailed over her clothes. Her mouth dropped open and she slapped a hand over her chest. “It’s…touching me.” She turned to Antonio, her eyes wide and horrified.
He yanked her to his chest. “Damn you, Corus.”
The groping wind died away. Sophia clutched at Antonio, her body shaking. He saw Corus wink at her and she turned her face away. Antonio ran a hand over the curve of her waist and hip before pushing her behind him.
Antonio lifted his hands. The West Wind blew up—strong, powerful, filled with purpose. He thrust his palms outward.
Corus lifted his hands in reply, meeting the West Wind with his own. A dull roar filled the room as the winds battled.
The windows blew out with a deadly shatter of glass. It swirled into the wind and Antonio felt it pepper his skin.
He also heard the whispers growing. Take the woman. She wants you. Make her yours.
He shoved harder and when Corus stumbled back, Antonio smiled a grim smile.
Slake your desire. Lust will make you stronger. Take your pleasure.
Now he lost his footing. As the whispers multiplied, he couldn’t think. The wind around him turned hotter, and perspiration spread over his skin.
And desire curled in his gut—hot and demanding.
Can’t…give…up. His muscles strained and he went down on one knee. He pushed everything he had into his wind. He couldn’t let Corus win. He had to protect Sophia.
But the Tempest Wind was strong, bloated with lust, and empowered by Antonio’s own weakness. Corus dematerialized, his body turning into the wind itself, whipping it into a higher frenzy.
Antonio’s power was leaking away along with the last tatters of his control. He threw his head back, straining. He had to keep Sophia safe.
But slowly, he felt his power beaten back by the Northwest wind. The ugly whispers grew louder, more seductive, to the point that Antonio felt he was losing his mind.
He roared into the wind.
He’d failed.
***
Sophia pushed against the wind. It was so…strong. Her bare feet skidded on the floor. The few feet between her and Antonio seemed like miles.
She had to reach him.
Through the swirling whirlwind, she saw him on his knees, his head thrown back in anguish.
He was losing the fight.
Something hit her head with a glancing blow. She ignored it and kept moving.
But the wind was far too strong. She could no longer see Corus, but she knew he was there. She felt his presence like an oily sludge on her skin. She dropped to the ground.
On her hands and knees, she crawled closer. Almost there. Then she saw Antonio’s face.
Her belly cramped. The veins in his neck stood out, and his eyes were closed, his face caught in a grimace.
“Antonio!” The wind snatched her scream away.
But his eyes snapped open and his gaze locked onto her.
Oh, God. His irises were still green, but now they glinted with a red edge. Like he was possessed.
“You should have left.” He slammed his palms against the floor. “Go!”
Fear was acid in Sophia’s veins, but screw it. She wasn’t going to let Corus have Antonio. She reached out and wrapped her hand around his arm. His skin was so hot it felt like it was burning her.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His words were a tortured plea.
“You won’t. Let me help you.” She wasn’t sure why she was so certain she could help him, but the feeling welled up from deep inside her. She moved closer, wrapping her arms around him.
“Sophia.”
Going on instinct, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
He went still for a second, then he groaned and his arms wrapped around her like bands of iron. He pulled her closer, one hand moving to tangle in her hair.
God, the man could kiss. Shocking sensation crashed through Sophia. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and she returned the kiss, every urgent stroke. He tasted so good, and nothing had ever felt this right.
The wind still howled, circling around them, shutting them in their own little world.
Antonio’s hand slid down her side, and she pressed her hands into his hard shoulders, smoothing over tense muscles. She thought she felt him relax, just a fraction.
His palms circled her waist and he pulled her closer. Her thin shirt wasn’t much of a barrier and her breasts rubbed against his bare chest, her nipples tightening to hard buds. She made a husky sound in her throat. The wind still spun around them in a dangerous vortex, but in his arms, she felt a strange sense of calm. As though they were in the eye of the storm.
She felt Antonio’s hard erection against her hip and heat arrowed between her legs. He took her mouth again, his hands sliding up under her shirt to cup her breasts.
He slid his mouth down her throat, his tongue lapping at the rapid beat of her pulse. She pressed into him, shocked at the cries that ripped from her throat. He nipped at her shoulder and now his busy hands moved downward, sliding under the tiny skirt, fingers brushing along her thighs.
She tried to say something, but desire made her throat tight.
His hands tightened on her upper thighs, so hard his fingers dug into her skin. She flinched.
He jerked back. “Sophia.”
“I’m fine.” She saw that eerie red in his eyes deepening and she cupped his cheeks. “We have to stop Corus and get out of here. Together.” She rubbed her fingers over the night’s worth of dark stubble on his cheeks. “You can do this.”
Something swirled in his eyes, the red dimming. He nodded.
He pushed to his feet, his jaw tight as he scanned the room. “I will end Corus for daring to drag you into this.”
She watched Antonio stride into the wailing maelstrom and her heart jumped into her throat. He could beat Corus. She was sure of it. She stood on shaky feet. Debris caught in the swirling wind whizzed past her—paintings, candlesticks, glass. Power throbbed in the air.
And Corus’ laughter was carried on the gusts.
Sophia’s gut cramped. Something was wrong. She took a step forward, her gaze on Antonio’s back.
Where was Corus?
Suddenly, she heard the laughter again. Behind her.
She spun. The Tempest Wind was only a few feet away.
He winked. “Nighty, night.” He twirled a hand around.
A huge funnel of wind burst to life and caught her.
It picked her up and turned her over. The room became a whirl. Her scream was eaten by the gale and then she slammed into a huge mirror that shattered on impact.
Pain exploded through her. As she hit the floor, struggling to stay conscious, she heard Antonio’s agonized roar.
Then darkness swamped her and dragged her away.