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Misty squeezed his hand, hearing and feeling his pain. “We’ll find his killer, Domenico. I trust in you.”
That night, hundreds of Lyccans had gathered around the family cemetery, paying their respects to the Morettis for their loss.
Misty inhaled deeply as Domenico stepped behind the podium. With the moonlight shining behind him, he appeared to glow like an avenging angel with the darkness’ blessing.
“Matteo was more than a man who served me and my family. He was a man I grew up with and who shared in my triumphs and pains. His death marks a turning point in the unspoken war we have been battling in the past. All of us know about it, but we do not speak about it.”
He shook his head. “Today, it has become personal. We are fighting a war against an invisible enemy. We are being targeted, one by one, and it is vital that we join forces with those who can help us, even if they are different and unknown to us.”
Murmurs rose from the crowd and Misty automatically turned to the twins questioningly.
Caros.
Misty heard the word whispered over and over.
She frowned.
Darlings? Caro was the Italian male form for darling.
Alessandro leaned close and whispered to her ear, “Vampires, the good kind.”
After the wake, everyone proceeded to the main mansion, where Dio and Elena lived and dinner was being offered. But Misty chose to stay behind, needing privacy. She was not scared to be alone in the cemetery. By now, she was used to her life with Domenico and this was Moretti land. She was safe, even if she was surrounded by dead people.
Even with the moonlight still gleaming from the evening sky, everything around her seemed gray, from the tombstones to the thick trunks of trees that filled the cemetery like unspeaking, stalwart sentinels.
Misty…
The sound brushed against her senses like a feather’s touch.
She must be imagining it.
Misty…
She looked around sharply.
Over here, Misty…
It came from the huge trees behind Matteo’s burial plot. She went around it, slowly, carefully, wondering what she’d do if this was another attack, if the Moretti fortress had been breached.
And then she screamed.
Or she would have if semi-transparent hands had not covered her mouth.
A ghost!
“I can see what you’re thinking but no, I’m not a ghost,” the translucent figure said.
The hands left her mouth and she stood there, goosebumps popping out from her skin.
“What are you?” she asked.
The male figure had curly hair and a slim build. He looked pretty rather than handsome.
“What do you think?”
She bit her lip. “An…elf?”
He looked almost affronted. “Am not!”
Oh. Her lips trembled.
He was a she, apparently. Gay, in other words. “Elfin girl?”
He made a face. “Ha-ha.” He looked at her curiously. “You’re taking this very well.”
“How can I not? Werewolves, vampires, so why should I be surprised about you?” Misty almost found herself laughing again, hysterically.
Totally exciting stuff, she had once prayed.
Now she lived in the midst of werewolves, vampires, and God knew what.
And Matteo was dead, Kevin in a coma.
Misty couldn’t help feeling she had been so selfish with her prayers, and the loss of loved ones were her penance for her sins.
“Have you guessed what I am?”
Looking back at the shimmering figure in front of her, Misty shook her head.
“Will this help?” He waved a hand and a wand appeared between his fingers.
Oh.
“A faerie,” she breathed.
“At your service.” He bowed.
“What’s your name?”
“Daryl…Castellano.”
It took her a while to speak.
“You did not commit suicide, did you?”
Chapter Eleven
Dear Diary,
I can’t sleep these days. I’m worried about finding Matteo’s killer, worried about Kevin not getting well, but most of all I’m worried about something I don’t have anyone to tell but you. I’m worried about what I have with Domenico. I love him more each day but there’s still something I feel is keeping us apart. I know he married me because he says he needs me, but how I can help him when he’s keeping too many secrets from me?
Sometimes, I wonder what I would do if I catch Domenico in another woman’s arms. What would it feel like to see another woman kissing Domenico the way I do, raking her nails against his back as she takes in his cock?
I try to imagine what it would feel like but I can’t. It hurts too much.
When have I become this weak – so weak that I can’t imagine living a life without him?
“Misty?’
She appeared immediately before his open doorway. It had been two days since Matteo’s funeral and she had been acting strange ever since. Domenico had pretended not to notice, but he had seen her pacing back and forth outside his study, peering at him once in a while. When he had finished his phone calls and meetings, he decided to find out what Misty seemed so restless about.
“Yes?” She looked at him almost uncertainly.
“Come here.”
She went to him without a word then looked up at him with the same uncertainty.
Without warning, he kissed her, pulling her to him, molding her body to his. He felt her stiffen when he cupped her br**sts as he continued kissing her. Although they had been married for several days now, she still reacted like a virgin, especially when he touched her in the middle of the day.
Domenico pulled away and surveyed her dreamy expression with satisfaction. “Now,” he murmured, “what it is that you want to tell me?”
She took a deep breath. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
He blinked. “Come again?”
“You heard me.”
He raised a brow. “What brought this about?”
“I…just answer my question first.”
“Then you’re telling me what this is about?” he countered.
She squirmed.
“I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“But why not?” she practically wailed. “How about faeries?”
He just looked at her.
“But you’re a WEREWOLF. Shouldn’t you believe in other non-human species?”
“Most are just myths. I’m real.”
“But…”
Domenico sighed impatiently “Misty, what is this about?”
She sighed, too. “I think…no, I know what I saw. I met Castellano’s son.”
