on the floor of her altar room.
He’d recognized his whereabouts immediately, even through the haze of excruciating pain running through his body like poison.
“Michael, please,” his mother said. “Get off the floor. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
Vivianne and Francis Corsi stood in front of him. His mother’s disgusted expression trumped his father’s cool glare. Growing up, it had taken Michael until he was sixteen to realize his father wasn’t really the one in charge in their home.
His mom held the true power. She was a strong strega , and though she hadn’t been born Malandante , she had been raised as one. And that had made his mother more of a Mal than if she’d been born to it.
Still on his hands and knees, he pushed to his feet, though the grinding pain made his head swim and he nearly toppled back over.
“Oh for the gods’ sake,” Vivianne huffed. “You act like you’re dying. Don’t be so dramatic. And don’t act surprised to be here. I warned you. You’ve got debts to pay, Michael, and it’s time to pay them.”
Breathing through his nose to try to calm the nausea, he met his mother’s dark gaze. Vivianne Corsi was a beautiful woman. At seventy-two years old, her face was barely lined, her body slim and toned. She stood only two inches over five feet but she projected the power and strength of a man twice her size.
“Hello, Mother.” He had to grit his teeth against the pain in every one of his muscles. “Nice to see you. And you, Father. Sorry if I don’t offer to shake your hand but I’m not feeling too good at the moment.”
His mother walked closer, arms across her chest as she looked him up and down. “Don’t think this will keep you from paying for your crimes. We gave you two years to come to your senses. But when we were approached by your former employer we decided we’d let you have enough rope and it was time to pull you in.”
“So…Rhoades finally,” he gasped around the pain, “grew some balls?”
“Not Rhoades, dear. Franklin Bennett will be here in minutes to take you back to New York.”
The news didn’t surprise him as much as it should have. “Then he better hurry ’cause I’ll be dead in half an hour.”
Chapter Six
The pain was barely manageable but all Cara could think about was Michael.
He must be in agony and she needed to get to him.
It took her several seconds to work through the sudden searing pain and then another few to drag herself to her feet and back to the house.
Pushing through the door, trying to breathe through the burning agony in her chest, she realized no one was in sight.
“Sal! Sal, where are you? Someone took Michael.”
Cara heard movement in all parts of the house and people came running. Tears formed and she knew it wasn’t solely because of the fear she felt over Michael’s disappearance.
For years when she’d been a prisoner of the Mal , Cara had only had Lacey to rely on. Then only Michael. Now a horde of people ran when she called.
Lacey took one look at her face and handed Aron , sitting on her hip, to Rosie.
“Hey, big guy,” Lacey said. “Why don’t you and Rosie see if Dora is on? I bet Rosie loves Dora .”
As Rosie disappeared with Aron , Cam moved in front of Cara, settling his big hands on her shoulders.
“Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.” His deep voice soothed her stress level enough to let her think clearly.
There wasn’t much to tell but she recounted everything she’d seen and heard as precisely as she could. When she was finished, she realized she knew exactly who had taken Cam.
“His parents took him,” she said. “His mother called earlier. She had his cell number even though Michael hasn’t been in contact with her or his father since we ran three years ago.”
“You’re sure he hasn’t called or—”
“No.” In this, she was one hundred percent sure. “He hasn’t. I don’t know how they did it but I know Michael was able to find us through
He’d recognized his whereabouts immediately, even through the haze of excruciating pain running through his body like poison.
“Michael, please,” his mother said. “Get off the floor. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
Vivianne and Francis Corsi stood in front of him. His mother’s disgusted expression trumped his father’s cool glare. Growing up, it had taken Michael until he was sixteen to realize his father wasn’t really the one in charge in their home.
His mom held the true power. She was a strong strega , and though she hadn’t been born Malandante , she had been raised as one. And that had made his mother more of a Mal than if she’d been born to it.
Still on his hands and knees, he pushed to his feet, though the grinding pain made his head swim and he nearly toppled back over.
“Oh for the gods’ sake,” Vivianne huffed. “You act like you’re dying. Don’t be so dramatic. And don’t act surprised to be here. I warned you. You’ve got debts to pay, Michael, and it’s time to pay them.”
Breathing through his nose to try to calm the nausea, he met his mother’s dark gaze. Vivianne Corsi was a beautiful woman. At seventy-two years old, her face was barely lined, her body slim and toned. She stood only two inches over five feet but she projected the power and strength of a man twice her size.
“Hello, Mother.” He had to grit his teeth against the pain in every one of his muscles. “Nice to see you. And you, Father. Sorry if I don’t offer to shake your hand but I’m not feeling too good at the moment.”
His mother walked closer, arms across her chest as she looked him up and down. “Don’t think this will keep you from paying for your crimes. We gave you two years to come to your senses. But when we were approached by your former employer we decided we’d let you have enough rope and it was time to pull you in.”
“So…Rhoades finally,” he gasped around the pain, “grew some balls?”
“Not Rhoades, dear. Franklin Bennett will be here in minutes to take you back to New York.”
The news didn’t surprise him as much as it should have. “Then he better hurry ’cause I’ll be dead in half an hour.”
Chapter Six
The pain was barely manageable but all Cara could think about was Michael.
He must be in agony and she needed to get to him.
It took her several seconds to work through the sudden searing pain and then another few to drag herself to her feet and back to the house.
Pushing through the door, trying to breathe through the burning agony in her chest, she realized no one was in sight.
“Sal! Sal, where are you? Someone took Michael.”
Cara heard movement in all parts of the house and people came running. Tears formed and she knew it wasn’t solely because of the fear she felt over Michael’s disappearance.
For years when she’d been a prisoner of the Mal , Cara had only had Lacey to rely on. Then only Michael. Now a horde of people ran when she called.
Lacey took one look at her face and handed Aron , sitting on her hip, to Rosie.
“Hey, big guy,” Lacey said. “Why don’t you and Rosie see if Dora is on? I bet Rosie loves Dora .”
As Rosie disappeared with Aron , Cam moved in front of Cara, settling his big hands on her shoulders.
“Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.” His deep voice soothed her stress level enough to let her think clearly.
There wasn’t much to tell but she recounted everything she’d seen and heard as precisely as she could. When she was finished, she realized she knew exactly who had taken Cam.
“His parents took him,” she said. “His mother called earlier. She had his cell number even though Michael hasn’t been in contact with her or his father since we ran three years ago.”
“You’re sure he hasn’t called or—”
“No.” In this, she was one hundred percent sure. “He hasn’t. I don’t know how they did it but I know Michael was able to find us through
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