Chapter 7
Marcella stood in front of the villa's gate in Arcetri and asked herself what the hell she was doing there. She had expected Cosimo Greatdrakes to lose his patience and contact her, but a dinner invitation was the last thing she had anticipated.
She had been more than a little surprised to receive the email, asking if she would like to come over to discuss how they could help each other with their mutual research projects. She hadn't been asked for an RSVP. The message just said they would expect her in the evening.
Standing in front of the house, Marcella wondered why she had agreed to it, and why her stomach was filling with nerves.
She adjusted the red carnation clip in her hair that held up her braid, in case it had slipped loose.
There were no stains or accidental marks on the black and white polka dot dress she was wearing or on her velvet ankle boots.
Blessed Mother, she hadn't been nervous like this on her way to the Uffizi, so it made no sense why she would be now.
You didn't know how handsome he was before that. Marcella scowled, thought of her tarot spread, and wished she hadn't. She had pulled cards every day since, and every day they had been the same.
"You are only here because you are curious about what books he has. You aren't agreeing to anything. Besides, it's one meal you don't have to worry about cooking for yourself," she whispered under her breath.
Marcella shook her hands, the protective charms on her bracelet making a tinkling sound, and she opened the gate. The touch of protective wards made her pause, but they seemed to recognize her, and she met no resistance as she walked to the large front door.
Straightening her shoulders, Marcella rang the doorbell. It swung open to reveal a stunning blonde woman with a bright smile.
"Hello! You must be the lovely witch we are having for dinner," she said, with a delighted smile.
"Buonasera. I'm Marcella," she greeted and held out a hand.
The beautiful blonde shook it, magic pulsing between their palms, and she all but tugged Marcella inside.
Marcella shouldn't have been surprised that Cosimo had a gorgeous younger woman as his partner.
Men like him usually did. What was surprising was the stab of disappointment that hit her in the ribs.
She covered her unease with a smooth smile.
She should be relieved that the Lovers card had only meant a partnership after all.
"You're early," a man said, coming down a set of stairs. He was striking in a dark and dangerous way, heavily tattooed and with a smile that was exactly like Cosimo's. He slid a protective arm around the blonde. "I'm Valentine Greatdrakes, and I see you have met my Yelena."
"Ah, the prodigy sorcerer," Marcella said, recognizing the name and reputation immediately.
She ignored the flash of relief that Yelena wasn't Cosimo's partner after all, and she shook Valentine's outstretched hand.
Another sharp jolt of power seared her fingers, and his eyes flashed scarlet before returning to their gray hue.
"It's a pleasure to meet the woman who has had my level-headed father up in arms for months," Valentine said, his grin widening.
"The pleasure is mine." Marcella laughed in an effort to hide the blush creeping up her neck.
"He's been making me pull my hair out and interfering with my research too.
Do you know what happened at an auction in Paris recently that resulted in multiple books disappearing?
Your father was curiously silent about the matter, though Henry tells me that the Greatdrakes are the men to ask. "
Valentine's expression was so innocent, she knew he was guilty of something. "I might have heard something about that. Rather impressive bit of magic," he said.
Marcella didn't have a chance to question him further when a blond man pushed Valentine out of the way. He pulled up short and looked her over.
"You. Are. Stunning," he declared, putting his hands on his hips.
"Ah, grazie?"
"Sorry. I'm Apollo. Wow. You're a knockout. No wonder Dad has been so grumpy for days." Apollo took her hand and gallantly kissed it. He stared at her nails. "Even your manicure is to die for."
"Thank you. I do them myself," Marcella replied, getting more overwhelmed by the second.
Apollo brightened. "Would you consider doing mine sometime?"
"Of course... I mean, if your father is okay with it," Marcella replied.
"Why wouldn't he be okay with it?" Apollo asked, his head cocking to one side.
"Because a lot of fathers wouldn't like their sons wearing nail polish."
"Huh, sounds dumb," he replied, before turning and shouting, "Dad! Would you care if Marcella did my nails?"
Cosimo came through a door, and Marcella's heart did a traitorous skip. He really was a gorgeous man, and he moved with a grace and confidence that immediately drew the eye.
"Why would I care about that?" Cosimo asked, his eyes full of affection as they looked at his son.
"I don't know. Apparently, it's a thing with fathers? Maybe it's just Italian fathers?" Apollo said, scratching his head.
Cosimo shrugged. "Sounds dumb."
"That's what I said!"
Cosimo moved Apollo aside. "Come on, children, move out of the way and let our guest in. Thank you for coming, Signorina Sforza."
"I think you can call me Marcella," she said with the start of a smile. "But only for tonight."
Cosimo laughed, and heat filled her belly. "Fair enough. Wine?"
"Yes. All the wine," she said quickly.
Cosimo gestured. "Please, after you. Come and meet the rest of the family."
"How many are you?" she asked, slightly dazzled by the three she had already met. All had a powerful hum of magic around them, and Marcella had never felt anything like it.
"There are my four boys and their mates," Cosimo explained and cleared his throat. "Ah, their partners, I mean."
"Quite the crowd," she said, trying to steady herself.
"My son, Basset, loves to cook, so I hope you are hungry." Cosimo held a door open for her to a large kitchen. The smell of his aftershave filled her senses as he whispered conspiratorially in her ear, "Don't let them intimidate you. They can smell fear."
"Thank you for the warning." Marcella was quickly introduced to Lachlan, his cousin Charlotte, Reeve, Bas, and Bridget, who were loitering about, snacking on charcuterie, drinking wine, and gossiping. With the exception of Lachlan, they all had magic.
Marcella accepted the glass of local Chianti offered to her and tried not to down it all in one go.
"This might be too forward, but you all are magicians, and I want to know what you specialize in," she said, sitting down in the chair that Cosimo pulled out for her at a large dining table.
Reeve shot a glance in Cosimo's direction. "How much are we allowed to tell her? Or should we wait until she agrees to help us find Auntie Maria?"
"You might as well tell me everything so I know whether or not you are going to be trouble for me," Marcella insisted.
On her right, Cosimo said, "You say that like you aren't going to be trouble for me. Us, I mean. The family."
"Right," Bridget said, trying not to laugh. "You're definitely going to be trouble for the family."
Marcella drank more wine. "You want me to go first?"
"Yes," Yelena said, studying her. "I've never seen magic like yours before."
"Truly? It's not exactly unique here in Italy."
"Yelena was born in Faerie," Cosimo explained. "This is her first time in Europe."
Marcella's mind instantly filled with a hundred questions.
"I've never met anyone from Faerie before.
How delightful. To answer your question, my magic is a form of Benedicaria.
It is folk magic mixed with some pagan and Christian beliefs, like petitioning saints and angels for help.
There are also elements of natural healing. "
Bridget hummed. "That explains the books and papers you have written. Do you use any of the older practices that you have unearthed from the Renaissance and earlier?"
"You have read my work?" Marcella rested a hand on her cheek. "I'm flattered. And yes, some of the practices I have written about I have incorporated into my own. I believe everyone's magic and the way we access it is unique. I take what works for me and leave the rest."
"Almost like my trash magic," Reeve said thoughtfully and then explained his own magical abilities to her.
"So you take literal trash and transmute it?" Marcella lifted her glass. "If I had your ability, I can only imagine what I could have turned my stronzo ex-husband into."
Cosimo choked on his wine as he tried not to laugh, and she winked at him. Too late, she realized his children were studying their interactions. She quickly asked who was next in the magical show-and-tell.
Marcella could only sit back and wonder at the talent around her. She had always assumed that the rumors about the magical power in the Greatdrakes family were mainly bullshit. Now she knew otherwise. She angled herself toward Cosimo.
"What about you? What's your specialty? Apart from frustrating the research of unsuspecting witches, I mean," she teased, the wine washing away some of her nerves.
"I am like Valentine and don't have a specialty. I like to do a bit of everything," Cosimo replied. He graced her with his panty-melting smile. "Including frustrating witches."
In more ways than one, Marcella's treacherous brain prompted. She cleared her throat and asked, "What about your research? Why are you stealing my books all the time?"
"Can't you guess?" he asked.
Marcella bit the inside of her cheek and put down her glass. "Shall I use my witchy powers to read your mind?"
"You can try." Cosimo rested his elbow on the table and propped his head up in his hand. "Take your best guess…and no giving her any hints, children."