“Pay attention to the energy in the house, Nicoletta. This time, I want you to warn me when someone gets close or comes in.”
She nodded and padded barefoot over to the window. She placed her palm on the glass, fingers spread wide. “Mom would give me a very bad time for getting my handprints on the glass.”
“I doubt my mother would have noticed if we put our hands on the glass. Stefano taught us to read energy by touching shadows, the floor, glass, the wall, whatever worked for us. Do you have your gloves close and your shoes, just in case we have to leave fast?”
“Everything is right over by the entrance you told me we were going to use to leave. I can put them on in seconds.” She didn’t turn around or move her hand.
Taviano was pleased to see she was concentrating on the house more than she was on their conversation. She would learn to read the energy around her all the time. It would become second nature, so that she could carry on conversations and still feel when something wasn’t right or know when someone was coming up on her.
“That’s my woman. Always be ready. Always have your gear ready. That’s the first lesson drilled into us.”
“No, it really isn’t, Taviano,” she said, still not turning her head to look at him. “Stefano is already playing games with Crispino. Francesca isn’t recognizing the movements, because she doesn’t ever see the signature kill, but he’s teaching him how to grip and snap a neck. He’s just not using a head yet. He’s just positioning his hands over and over on various objects. He’s having me do it. All of you are doing it. Emme is. Mariko is. He’s not even two and he’s already learning.”
“He isn’t learning to kill anyone, tesoro,” he said as gently as he possibly could. There was an ache in her voice, and he couldn’t blame her. None of them liked the idea of a child learning those techniques, but on the other hand, it was the way to keep them safe. The younger they learned, the better they would be at it and the safer they were.
“I understand, I really do. I wish I’d had the training that young, but our children …” She trailed off. “I don’t know, Taviano. It’s such a terrible legacy to give them. To decide for them before they’re born that they have no choice. They learn to kill, and if they can’t find a man or woman to love them, they live without love but marry anyway and produce children. What anchors them? What could keep a person sane when they have to live a life with no one to love them and bring them peace and happiness when they return home?”
She turned her head then and met his eyes. His heart stuttered at what he saw there. So much love he could drown in it. He was never going to have to live that way because he had her.
“I don’t want that for our children,” she whispered.
“Neither do I. Neither does Stefano, or any of our family. That’s what Eloisa fears the most. That’s what the older generation is so afraid of, that we’ll allow the riders to slowly dwindle out because we’re not tough enough on our children.” Taviano rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know the right answer, Nicoletta. I do know that I felt hopeless until you came along. You were so young, and I felt a little like a monster for making certain our shadows tangled together. I didn’t want you getting away from me. I knew the connection between us would grow stronger each time we were together, and truthfully, I couldn’t stay away.”
“I was very mean to you.”
“No, you weren’t,” he denied. “You were striking out against yourself, not at me. We both know that. You never sent me away.” He gave her a small smile. “You do realize that, don’t you? When you were so afraid, coming out of one of your terrible nightmares, fighting me, punching and kicking, you never sent me away.”
“They’re here, Taviano. I can feel them. Just now coming inside the door of the kitchen. Five people, four men and a woman. Stefano is one of them. And I could never send you away no matter how much I wanted to. You were always my anchor in the middle of the worst of everything. I was afraid if you left me, there wouldn’t be anything of the real me left to find.”
He understood what she meant. Nicoletta had been lost for a while. That strong woman her mother and adopted father had raised. That woman with a strong bloodline from both sides of her family. She was there, she just needed to fight her way to the surface again and remember who she was. He had to do the same thing. He had to remember he was a Ferraro. It didn’t matter that his mother and father had rejected him. He knew, deep down, that Stefano, the one person in his life at the time that truly counted, would never turn his back on that boy.