A Cowboy in Ravenna (9 page)

“I don’t have to like it.” Trin rubbed the back of his neck. “I haven’t…” He lowered his voice as they pulled back off the main street and took shelter under a tree, well back from the many cyclists that bumped over the ancient cobbled street. “I haven’t been inside you yet so we’re not fully mated.”

Chace inhaled sharply.

“I have to keep you safe but I also need to help those kids.” Trin shoved back his hair. “We don’t even know if we can safely fully mate.”

“We’ll help the kids. Let’s focus on that.”

Trin left a brief message to someone to call him and then put his BlackBerry away.

“So you do know how to use it.”

“When I have to.” Trin gave an impatient shrug. “I should have known he wouldn’t answer right away. Stubborn bastard.”

“Do we need to do anything else?”

“Not till tonight. Tonight we meet the local shifter’s pack.” Trin’s hand ghosted down Chace’s forearm. “Do you think you can handle that?”

Chace swallowed. “Sure.”

“They’re kind of hard core, from what Sabin said.”

“I got that.” Chace lifted his head, took in warm Italian sunshine. “Let’s go sightseeing. Sabin’s resting and the guy you called hasn’t called you back and we can’t do anything about meeting this pack until tonight.”

Trin gripped his arm. “I’m sorry, Chace, for ruining this for you.”

Chace shoved him. “You’re kidding, right? You think I could tamely go on with my holiday while kids suffer?”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“All right then. I thought we’d go to the Basilica of San Vitale today. It’s the most famous, but…” Chace reached up and cupped Trin’s cheek.

Trin nuzzled his face into Chace’s hand, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Don’t. Not here in public. I don’t want to shame you.”

“I feel no shame being with you. I don’t care if people stare at us, spit at us. Come on, there’s something I want to show you.”

He consulted his map and, like everything in the micro city, what he wanted to see was within close walking distance. They walked through winding streets, past cafés and courtyards, villas fronted by tall grass and overblown roses.

“Another pile of brick,” Trin said, when they reached their unimpressive looking destination. “Except smaller.”

“Yeah, the Arian Baptistery isn’t very big,” Chace said. “And it’s not an architectural marvel.” They went down a spiral staircase and into the base of the tower, breathing in the dank earth smell. Trin looked around at bare walls, tiny windows.

“Look up,” Chace whispered.

Above them in tiny jewels a youth was being baptised.

“Oh… God, Chace. He looks so human, so vulnerable.”

“Once upon a time it was sacrilege to portray Jesus that way,” Chace told Trin, hoping he’d understand the deeper message. “Times change.”

Trin studied Chace, as if considering his words. “After my son went missing I searched for him. I thought I was taking just another job when I met you. Taking care of you… I had a purpose. I’ll never be whole without Sage, but I had a purpose.”

Chace didn’t speak. What was there to say?

He looked like who he was, a man close to the earth, a simple working man. “You make me live.” Trin grazed the side of Chace’s face with rough fingers.

“If I could do it, I’d give you back your son,” Chace said. “I’d do anything…”

Trin hugged Chace. Emotion vibrated through the walls, silent singing.

Chace swallowed, took a step back.
I love you, I love you.
He ached to say it. He cleared his throat. “We’ll do what we can for those lost kids. I know you need to heal them, bring them home to their families.”

Trin nodded. He put an arm around Chace, who didn’t care if anyone came in or if they shocked anyone. Expressing how he felt here was right.

“Thanks.”

Chace smiled. “For what?”

“For bringing me here. I expected to feel like Cass—out of place, some hick cowboy, but this…” Trin glanced up at the ceiling again. “I don’t have words. It grabs me by the throat.”

“Some things don’t need words.” Like how Chace felt.

“Touching.” A hulking shadow blocked the sunshine from the single entrance.

Trin shoved Chace behind him.

“Cut it out.” Chace moved beside Trin, who tugged Chace close enough to feel Trin’s body heat.

“Calhoun,” Trin said.

The man was massive and intimidating in inky black leather. A nightmare of a scar ran down from his forehead to his left cheek. Eyes the pale blue of a gas fire burned over Chace.

“Pretty boy you got.”

“Don’t look at him.”

“He’s just what the slavers look for—beautiful, a natural human submissive.”

“I just called you. What are you doing in Italy?” Trin demanded.

“The kids are
here
, Trin.”

“I know.”

Calhoun cocked a brow. “Mind telling me how?” His black hair flowed free over his shoulders, so long it reached his hips, a silken curtain. A weird picture popped into Chace’s head. Calhoun and Sabin, bodies close, bright and dark hair tangled.

“It’s a long story,” Trin said.

“I’m for a Moretti. Been here long enough to get a taste for Italian beer,” Calhoun said.

Chace narrowed his eyes, still looking Calhoun over. “You’re a shifter, like Trin, like Sabin.”

Blue eyes fixed on his. “You know Sabin?”

Chace bit his lip.

“What do you know about Sabin?” Trin asked, his body tightening whenever Calhoun looked in Chace’s direction.

“He’s mated to the head alpha of these parts. Word is he was once a truly superior whore.”

Chace’s gut twisted. “I think he was one of the lost kids.”

“Yeah,” Calhoun said. “So you up for that beer?”

Chapter Eight

“Are you scared?” Sabin asked Chace hours later.

Chace was curled in one of the uncomfortable gold and white chairs in the hotel room. Sabin was still on the bed. He looked tired, and Chace thought that if he could see Sabin’s spirit, it would resemble a fading bruise.

“Yes, I’m scared.” he said.

Sabin tensed.

“Not of Trin. Have you really let yourself look at him instead of just throw verbal rocks? That white cowboy hat isn’t just an accessory.”

“It’s not white. It’s off white,” Sabin said.

“I know you… Uh, I get the feeling you haven’t had good experiences with a lover—”

“I hate someone’s hands on me.” Sabin panted. He avoided Chace’s gaze.

The outburst had been accidental, Chace guessed. But he said, “Trin will be back soon. Do you need anything while we’re gone?”

“I’m going with you,” Sabin said.

“You’re in no shape to…” Chace looked at the dark smear left by a fist below Sabin’s eye, sure that if he pointed out the shiner Sabin would sneer. Chace shut up and crossed his arms, waiting to hear Sabin’s reasoning.

“It’s better if I show up for pack meetings. Marcello Rossi doesn’t like to be shamed.”

“He’s your mate?”

“I’m his,” Sabin said, voice as full of life as dried concrete.

Chace remembered those moments in the Arian Baptistery, Trin’s arms around him, his body a shield when Calhoun showed up. Sabin had never known anything like that.

“Why are you mated to this Marcello if you don’t love him?”

“Love? You really are a virgin.”

“Enough of a virgin to know I deserve a man who cares about me, or at least someone who will show me a good time,” Chace said.

“Whatever. It wasn’t a forced mating,” Sabin said. “We made a bargain. Marcello helps me find the kids from the tankers and I…” The corner of Sabin’s lip lifted. “Do what I do best.”

“You deserve better than that.”

Sabin ignored him, getting off the bed and picking up his wrinkled shirt. “I need to soak it in hot water.”

“Wear one of my shirts. I have plenty.”

The bathroom door closed behind Sabin.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Chace murmured.

He pulled out his drawing pad to flip through the illustrations he’d captured of the mosaic carpets. Was it just yesterday Trin had kissed him for the first time? God, he’d come alive, the brush of lips against lips, warmth, hardness enclosing him as Trin fed on him, ravenous.

Think of what you want to attract, not what you fear,
he told himself, repeating the basic rule of universal attraction Sash had taught him. Chace was nervous about tonight but he wanted Trin, so he was just going to focus on Trin.

Chace picked up his pencil and his hand took over. He was sketching Sabin, a younger Sabin with innocence and curiosity in his eyes, but he couldn’t get it right. His shoulders tightened with irritation. He hated when he couldn’t capture someone, though usually when he left it his unconscious worked it out.

The key turned and Trin entered. “Sabin’s in the shower?”

Chace nodded. He put aside the drawing, immediately more centred. “He says he’s coming tonight.”

“Good, I want to meet his mate.” Trin’s voice was the rumble of thunder. “You mean to talk me out of it?”

“I want the man who put bruises on Sabin to hurt.”

Trin’s chest rose and fell sharply. He fisted Chace’s hair. “Jesus, you are hot, the way you’re impulsive, the way you take me out of myself and show me stuff I never thought I’d get, making it real.”

“So you’re saying I’m hot when I’m pissed?”

“Especially when you’re pissed.”

Trin’s mouth on his, a full on,
I want my man
kiss.

Chace whimpered, a submissive sound, but then tugged Trin to the bed and climbed on top of him, holding his wrists above his head. He felt a bit like a kitten holding down a tiger, but Trin’s eyes said
I like it!

He’d never imagined he’d have this confidence, that Trin would encourage it. He kissed the side of Trin’s face before tonguing his ear. Trin shuddered. “Oh Christ, you’re a switch.”

Chace sat upright, considering. “I go from submissive to bossy, you mean?”

“Yeah. I never know if I’ll be the beast you dominate or the man you lie under.”

Chace ran his teeth down the vein in Trin’s neck. “Mmmm. I like mapping out my sexual identity with you.”

“Oh, fuck,
yeah!
” Trin hollered. “I want to be yours. Your animal, yours—”

Chace jerked back.
Shit
. “Sabin,” he croaked.

Trin squeezed his eyes shut. Claws scraped Chace’s T-shirt before Trin pushed Chace away, curling up. “I need a good ride about now,” Trin said.

“No kidding,” Chace agreed with feeling.

Trin cracked a pained laugh. “That’s not what I meant. But yeah…” His grey eyes focused on Chace’s face, held on. “Tonight is dangerous for you. Things have a way of…not exactly being what you expect when you go to a pack meeting.”

Chace swallowed, nodded. “I had a feeling.”

“You have to do everything I say.”

Chace reached out, touched Trin’s heart under his blue denim shirt. He was wearing his hand-tooled Western boots, scarred from long, hard use, and his worn jeans. He was the quintessential cowboy.

“I know I don’t fit in here,” Trin said as if he’d read Chace’s mind. “Fancy art, fancy furniture…” The molten gold eyes of the beast looked at Chace through Trin’s eyes.

“No, you don’t.” He stroked Trin’s chest. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I’ve totally fucked your holiday.”

“Just my holiday? You’ve fucked my life.” Chace said. “Keep on doin’ it.”

Trin laughed again. “You’re crazy.”

A fist pounded against the door.

Trin raised his head. “Calhoun.”

“Showtime,” Chace said. “Get the door.”

Trin’s face tightened as if he wanted to try to talk Chace out of coming. Instead, he left the bed they’d gone wild on for an all-too-brief time and let Calhoun in.

“Did you find what I asked for?” Trin asked Calhoun.

Calhoun’s eyes ran over Trin’s body then took in Chace, curled up on the bed, still throbbing. “I’m looking forward to watching your boy submit in the mating ceremony,” he drawled. Then his gaze snapped to Trin. “Easy, shifter. I know he’s yours. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy seeing you with him.”

“Maybe he won’t be the one submitting.”

“I’d pay good money to see that,” Calhoun said.

Trin’s snarl sent ice down Chace’s spine. By Trin’s side at once, Chace touched Trin’s arm.

Calhoun dropped a heavy duffle on the floor. “What’s that scent?” He frowned. “Someone else is here.”

“Sabin.” Chace went to the bathroom and knocked. After a few moments, he opened the door. The little window was open, admitting a draught of warm air and the settling sounds of birds.

But no Sabin.

* * * *

While Trin was in the bathroom shaving, Chace dug through the contents of the bag. He pulled out chains so heavy he couldn’t lift them.