Curse of the Fallen by Eve Archer
Chapter Two
Ella
I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes as the bright sunlight streamed through the minaret-shaped windows, sheer curtains fluttering in them from the gentle breeze, although the air they brought in wasn’t cool. It was dry and arid, and held the scent of flowers and the faintest whiff of coffee.
It took me a moment to remember that I wasn’t at home in New York in my snug apartment, or on the luxurious yacht that had been my home for the past few days with Dominick. My stomach clenched at the thought of the dark and mysterious man who’d captured my heart—and then caused it to break.
I shook my head. It was still impossible to believe that he was dead. The idea made fresh tears prick the backs of my eyelids, and I swiped at them with my fingertips. Despite Dan telling me he was dead, and then that crazy bitch Jaya repeating the news, I didn’t want to accept the truth. I couldn’t. Not after he’d saved me and blown up my life all at once.
Dominick Vicario was the last thing I’d ever expected or thought I wanted, but he’d turned out to be exactly what I’d needed. As foolish as it was, I’d fallen hard for the dangerous man, despite knowing that he was a mob boss. Of course, the organized crime wasn’t even the most unbelievable thing about him. He was also a fallen angel and the leader of what he called the “Fallen.”
If I hadn’t seen him unfurl black wings around me, I might not have believed him, but now I’d seen ample evidence of his supernatural powers. Not to mention how powerfully I felt drawn to him, and how weak I was to resist the dark angel.
Even as my pulse fluttered at the thought of him, a pit formed in my gut. He was gone, and I was far from the bed we’d shared. When he’d been killed in a demon attack, I’d been abducted, and even though I didn’t know exactly where I was, I was certain it was far from the Croatian city where Dominick’s yacht had been docked.
I dragged a hand through my hair, then stopped and stared at my wrists. I was no longer tied to the bed. I rubbed the flesh where I’d been bound. There were no marks, but there had been straps tying me to the bed when I’d last been awake. When Anthony Solano had sat on the edge of the bed and told me he wanted to get to know me better.
Anthony Solano.
Bile rose in my throat as I thought of the youngest member of the Solano family, a man I’d thought was a harmless college graduate. I put my face in my hands as I remembered chatting with him about New York and sharing favorite bagel spots. At the time I’d thought Dominick was being overly possessive and jealous when he’d snatched me away from Anthony. Now his aversion to the man didn’t seem to be misplaced.
I glanced around the bedroom. The last time I’d been awake it had been nighttime, and the room had been bathed in moonlight and shadows. Now, I could see that the decor was decidedly Middle Eastern with brass lanterns as chandeliers, and a recessed, minaret shape in the wall instead of a headboard.
Sliding off the bed, my feet touched cool tile as the silky nightgown slipped up my thighs. I didn’t want to dwell on the fact that I wasn’t wearing the clothes I’d been abducted in or wonder who had changed me. It made the bile threaten to rise again. Although there was a backless settee against one wall and a couple of low-backed armchairs, I didn’t spot my old clothes anywhere. I did see a plush, ivory robe hanging on a hook inside a spacious bathroom, and I snagged it and pulled it on over the pale-pink nightgown.
I might not be able to make a daring escape barefoot and in a bathrobe, but at least I didn’t feel so exposed. And my head no longer throbbed from whatever drug they’d jabbed in my neck. My fingers fluttered instinctively at the prick mark, flinching at the memory of the sharp sting and of what I’d been thinking when I’d been jabbed—that the only man I’d ever fallen head over heels for was dead.
I pushed that aside. Mourning for Dominick wouldn’t help me escape, and if Jaya and Anthony were still holding me captive, I needed to find a way out.
I tiptoed to the door, gripping the ornate metal knob and closing my eyes as I slowly turned it. I expected it to be locked, but to my surprise, it opened. I tugged the heavy door toward me, and it moved on silent hinges. I wanted to cheer, but instead I slipped from the room, peering down the corridor.
It was wide and bright, with the same white tile as the bedroom floor and matching metal lanterns hanging down the length of it. Sunlight poured in from one side, while the other was bisected by a crossing hallway.
I headed toward the light, hoping for a door to the outside. Instead, there was another large window in the shape of a minaret. I peeked outside but could see nothing but flat roofs with the occasional palm tree jutting above them. A square tower made of beige stone rose high in the distance with a smaller square jutting up at top. Beyond that was a range of mountains, purple in the morning haze.
Where was I? It wasn’t Croatia, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t Italy. The architecture was all wrong. I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious, so I could be anywhere, especially considering that Anthony Solano no doubt had access to private planes. I breathed in the hot air. I’d never been to the Middle East, but I suspected I was there now.
“Well, you always wanted to travel,” I whispered to myself, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. In a matter of weeks, I’d gone from boring workaholic who’d never had much of an adventure and had dated the same awful guy for years, to jetting all over the world with a mafia don-slash-fallen angel and then being kidnapped. This wasn’t exactly the travel and excitement I’d envisioned.
I continued down the hallway, moving quickly down a flight of stairs until I reached a large, marble foyer. Two large doors were open to one side, so I ran from them—right onto a spacious pool deck dotted with tables shaded by white canvas umbrellas. The pool itself was rectangular and flanked by rows of palm trees that stretched out across a green lawn that was surrounded by a high stone wall.
“You’re awake.”
I jerked at the sound of the voice, twisting to see Anthony Solano sitting at a nearby table sipping from a small glass etched in gold. He wore a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up and looked every bit the stylish and charming man I’d met at the charity event. Gone was the seductive and predatory smile he’d given me when I’d awoken tied to the bed. Instead, he grinned easily and beckoned me.
“Join me for some breakfast. I’m sure you’re starving.”
I eyed him without moving, not bothering to hide my suspicion. Had I imagined how possessive he’d been when he’d stroked one hand down my cheek and told me that he wanted to get to know me better?
Anthony stood and pulled out one of the boxy, white upholstered chairs for me. “I can’t promise New York bagels, but the khboz is quite tasty.”
My stomach rumbled at the mention of bagels. I hated the thought of eating breakfast with my captor, but I spotted a pair of beefy guards taking up positions on either side of the doors leading into the house. It appeared I wouldn’t be getting away as easily as I’d hoped, and he was right. I was ravenous.
I reluctantly walked over to him and took the seat he stood behind. The table was covered in small dishes of olives and fruit along, with a platter of what looked like pancakes and fried eggs, and baskets filled with round discs of bread. As he pushed in the chair for me, I breathed in the savory aroma of the food.
“Would you like some tea?” Anthony asked, gesturing to a silver teapot on a tray surrounded by more cylindrical glasses etched with gold. “I’m afraid coffee isn’t common here for breakfast.”
I swiveled my gaze to peer up at the huge stone villa with flat roofs and arched windows. “And where is here?”
The handsome dark-haired man smiled at me, his hazel eyes sparkling. “I’m not sure if I should tell you that, Ella, although I’m sure it won’t take you long to guess.”
I rolled my eyes at him, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “You’ve abducted me, tied me up, and are holding me against my will.” I cut my eyes to the bathrobe I wore. “Do you really think telling me where we are will make it possible for me to escape? In this?”
He held my gaze for a moment then laughed—the same easy laugh that had drawn me to him when we first met. “I suppose you’re right, but I should point out that you’re no longer tied up.”
If he was expecting me to thank him for that, he was going to be disappointed. “You prefer your women more willing?”
He flinched slightly and his eyes darkened. “You should be grateful. Jaya was against untying you.”
I glanced around, hoping the demon wasn’t going to be joining us. “Where is your partner in crime?”
“Gone.” He took a circle of bread from the basket and tore off a piece with more vigor than was necessary. “She has other matters to attend to.”
Cryptic, but at least she was gone.
Anthony poured me a glass of tea. “Please. There’s nothing as refreshing as mint tea in this heat.”
The idea of drinking hot tea in the heat was odd, but I took the gilded glass and sipped the aromatic beverage as I watched him. “I don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get?” His American accent was jarring considering the setting, and I reminded myself not to get lured in by his easy manner again. He had kidnapped me, after all.
“You seem like a typical, American twenty-something. I thought you were a nice guy. What gives?”
He smiled at me. “I am a nice guy.”
“You abducted me.” I said each word slowly while glaring at him.
He took another bite of bread and waved a hand dismissively. “It’s business. I needed you for leverage against Don Vicario.” He scowled. “And to show my father that I should be the one to take over the business, not Mateo.”
I almost groaned aloud. So, I was caught in the middle of a family feud? I took another sip of the mint tea. Anthony was right. The hot drink was cooling me, although it couldn’t dampen my anger over what he’d done.
“How does killing Dominick give you leverage over him?” I snapped. “Doesn’t it just mean you have a target on your back between the rest of his family and the other crime families?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Kill? I didn’t kill him.”
My throat felt thick, but I pushed my feelings aside. “Then Jaya. Whomever. It doesn’t matter who did it if you’re behind it. His family will come after you for revenge.” And knowing that they were supernatural beings, I didn’t give Anthony great odds.
He leaned forward, holding my gaze with his own. “Dominick Vicario isn’t dead, Ella. He’s very much alive.”
The tea glass slipped from my hand and hot tea splattered all over the table as the glass shattered, sending small shards into my lap. I didn’t register the heat or the sting of the glass even as Anthony jumped up.
Dominick was alive?
