Shadow Storm Page 2
She danced her eyebrows up and down, a wide smile on her face at that mere thought. “As well as scandalous to the rider community. Can you imagine? It would solve all our problems. They could stay home and take care of the dozens of little shadow rider babies my mother will insist we have. And, we won’t be the good couple. All my brothers have managed to be so deliciously bad that my mother wouldn’t dare go unannounced to their homes. If we don’t do something equally as bad, she would be turning up uninvited at all hours of the day or night. Bringing in lovers for us would be so perfect.”
Elie threw his head back and laughed. “Emmanuelle Ferraro, you are a handful.”
She took a bite of the pizza and nodded her head, feeling very pleased with herself. “I am. I had to be, growing up with all those brothers. Stefano especially. No one crosses Stefano, not even my mother. Not even when he was a kid. Now, of course, she doesn’t dare ‘drop in.’ She’s been banned for being so mean to Francesca, but even if she hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have dared just showed up. When Stefano wants sex, it doesn’t matter where he is, what room he’s in, he’s all over that and he’s very inventive and unapologetic. He’s a crazy man, so Eloisa would never drop in on him.”
Elie laughed again. “I have to admire your oldest brother. It feels like he’s always been in charge of the Ferraro riders. Everyone defers to him.”
Shadow riders meted out justice to criminals who fell through the cracks—those with too much money or power or who were just too dangerous to be convicted. Safeguards were in place to ensure no mistakes, and those they assassinated had committed horrendous crimes—at the end of the day, they were trained killers. They had begun their training as toddlers.
There were portals in the shadows. A very few people were born with the ability to be drawn into those portals and move from place to place. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation; in fact it felt as if one’s entire body was being pulled apart, skin, bones, every cell, as one was taken at high speed from one area to another. Those riders had to be trained physically from an early age and have a tremendous amount of stamina to be able to withstand the pressure of the shadow tubes.
“Stefano’s been in charge of our family and our riders since I was born. He was the one taking care of me, not my parents,” Emme said. “My mother wasn’t in the least bit maternal. Stefano got up with me in the middle of the night. He was the one who set all the rules. Once, I remember, when I was about four, she was really angry with me and slapped me. He came roaring out of nowhere, and she backed right out of the room when he scooped me up. She actually left the house, he was so angry. I realized then the balance of power had shifted from her to him.”
“How interesting. Stefano had to have been so young when he started taking care of all of you.”
Emme inclined her head. She’d often wondered if her oldest sibling had ever had a childhood at all. Sometimes it made her sad to think of all the responsibilities Stefano had taken on at such a young age. Still, he had met Francesca, the love of his life and the heart of the Ferraro family. All of them loved her. Who could not? Well, maybe not Eloisa, Emmanuelle’s mother. But then, Emmanuelle wasn’t certain if Eloisa was capable of loving anyone. Now Stefano had Francesca, who doted on him, adored him and had provided him with Crispino, a beautiful son.
“What about Ricco?” Elie asked. “How does he keep your mother from showing up without an invitation? I can’t imagine Eloisa not respecting Mariko. She’s a shadow rider and a darn good one. I’ve seen your mother with her. She’s curt, but at least respectful.”
Emme had a mouthful of pizza, so she nodded while she chewed to indicate Elie was on the right track. Ricco was her second-to-the-oldest sibling, and he was a powerful, fast shadow rider married to a very respected rider who looked like a delicate, beautiful woman when in fact she was a warrior who could cut out the heart of a monster. When Emme managed to swallow the pizza, she flashed Elie a wide smile.
“Shibari. My brother practices the art of Shibari and loves to tie his beautiful wife up without a stitch on. It’s a very erotic practice when they do it together, and apparently after warning Eloisa several times to stop dropping in on them, he didn’t put any of the safety precautions in the shadows to stop her and she walked in on them. As you can imagine, it was embarrassing for her. Ricco was in the zone and acted as if he didn’t even notice her there. She was livid and left, but she never went back.” She took another bite of pizza and watched his face as she chewed.
“Sex seems to be a recurring theme here.”
“You have no idea. Stop putting all the extra olives on your slice. I’m watching you.”
“There are plenty of olives. Giovanni and Sasha? She’s a sweet little country girl.”
Emmanuelle nearly dropped her wineglass. “Really, Elie? You’ve been around our family for how long now? There is no way one of my brothers is going to be madly in love with a woman who doesn’t have the kind of wicked sex drive he does. And if she doesn’t start out that way, he’s going to teach her.”
Elie’s expression shifted. It was subtle, but Emmanuelle had been trained from the time she was a child to notice every detail of anyone around her, and she had come to love Elie Archambault almost as much as she loved her brothers. She hurt for him because, like her, she knew he was heartbroken and he believed whatever had happened couldn’t be fixed. Elie had aligned himself with her almost from the time he had come to Chicago seeking to be trained by her cousin Enzo as a bodyguard. Why one of the best shadow riders in the world would want to be a bodyguard instead of a rider was a mystery, but eventually, when Stefano realized who he was, being Stefano, he had managed to get Elie to take rotations as a rider, pulling him back into their world.
Emmanuelle was grateful Stefano had done so. Elie had improved their speed and technique. He was amazing to train with, but more importantly, Stefano had brought him into the family. He’d needed them as much as she had needed Elie. Shadow riders had to provide children. It was as simple as that. There weren’t enough of them left, and Emmanuelle was getting too close to the age where she would have to accept an arranged marriage.
She had fallen in love. The curse of every Ferraro—they fell in love once and never again. She had very bad taste in men, and her choice had turned out to be a liar and a cheat, and worse, he’d been playing her all along. The pain was still excruciating. Sometimes she could barely breathe, it hurt so bad, but she was a Ferraro and a rider, and she had purpose.
Elie never said what happened—why he had come to Chicago and said he would accept an arranged marriage. By turns there was anger, guilt and pain in him. Of all her brothers—and Emme had six—Elie reminded her most of Stefano. He could be very bossy. Very arrogant. He had charm, but beneath that charm was pure steel.
“I think Sasha and Giovanni are exhibitionists at heart. You don’t dare go to their house, because they aren’t going to be indoors. If you walk up to their car, they might be going at it in their back seat, or front seat. They’re both crazy. Sasha has no inhibitions whatsoever. I called down the elevator once, and he had her pinned against the wall right there. Did he stop? No. He told me to shut the doors and go away.”