1. Chapter One
Chapter One
Zeke
“Let me get this straight. You want me to spy on your son-in-law and granddaughter?” Who was I to question when there were a million euros at stake? But I couldn’t help think it strange. Couldn’t he call and ask what they were doing?
“I want you to report any wrongdoings to me. Are there any women on the horizon? Is my granddaughter being treated well? Since her mother died… Well, I don’t want to get into that, but suffice it to say, I don’t trust him with her well-being.”
Something felt off, and Mal would no doubt call me a mercenary.
But one million fucking euros. How could I turn that down?
I didn’t need the money. Far from it, but it was a lot of cash, and if I was honest with myself, I wanted something different, something to challenge me instead of working in a funeral parlour in the quietest town in England.
So when a friend had mentioned this job, I’d hopped onto the next plane to Italy, and here I was, sitting in an enormous villa just outside Naples.
I wasn’t even sure if the guy could afford it. Shabby furniture filled the room, and paintings with chipped and faded frames covered the walls. There were no masterpieces unless he was hiding them somewhere else. But the fine-tailored suit he wore told a different tale.
I’d waited a good half an hour for him to arrive and had a good look around. He might have been old Italian royalty, but my patience had worn thin. How dare he keep me waiting?
I could have snapped him in two if I’d so wished, but the promise of a hefty payday had me sitting longer than I would have usually done.
I was about to leave when he bustled through the double doors and sat behind the antique wooden desk, the modern computer looking out of place. He gestured for me to take a seat.
The gold brocade chair wasn’t half as comfortable as it looked, and I shifted from one cheek to the other, trying to ease the numbness in my arse.
I studied him as he spoke in rapid Italian. Good job I could understand him, but then I spoke most modern languages and many old ones too. When you’d lived as long as I had, conversing in one tongue wouldn’t get you anywhere.
According to my research, Ernesto Marinelli had been born at the end of the Italian monarchy but still held sway. He looked far younger than his eighty years, with a full head of silver hair, tanned skin, and a trim physique. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’d sold his soul to the devil.
And after looking into his dark, soulless eyes, I had my suspicions he had. I wouldn’t have put it past Dante, the literal devil, to buy his soul. He was a sneaky fucker at the best of times.
I didn’t trust Dante as far as I could throw him. Interfering bastard had shut down my resurrection business. I was still seething about that, but when you cross the devil himself, sometimes it’s good to know when to step aside.
Since then, I’d drifted, nothing taking my attention for more than a week or two. This job had come at just the right time. Hopefully, it’d keep me out of trouble for a while at least.
“And where is your son-in-law?” Somewhere hot and sunny would be nice.
“London. He has an apartment. I’ll have my secretary give you the address. My granddaughter attends a private school. Rory used to be a diplomat, but now he does something in the city.”
“What else can you tell me?” I still didn’t understand why he wanted me to watch them.
“He stole my granddaughter. Moved her out of the villa and to London. When my daughter died two years ago, he promised they’d stay. Two months ago, he left without warning. Took everything with him, including my granddaughter.”
“But he’s her father, no?” Why wouldn’t he take her?
The tightening of his jaw suggested I’d hit a nerve.
“She’s my daughter’s daughter. She means everything to me. Carlotta was the last reminder of her, and now she’s gone. I want her back, and I’ll do anything to make that happen.”
He stood and walked to a window overlooking the terrace, his hands clasped behind his back.
“Rory was the reason my Mia died. He might not have killed her directly, but his actions caused her death. And now he’s up and left with the only person who matters to me.”
“How did she die?” I was all for exacting retribution. Demons loved that shit.
“In a car accident. Her vehicle left the road, and she was killed instantly.” For an instant, since the moment he’d entered the room, a flicker of emotion crossed his face.
“That sounds like an accident unless your son-in-law was driving.”
“He wasn’t. She was alone, but his actions…” His fist clenched, as did his jaw. “He needs to pay for what he did. I want my granddaughter back where she belongs.”
“And that’s with you.”
He slammed his palm on the desk, rattling everything on it, and his voice rose.
“Of course it’s with me. Look, is this going to be a problem? What did you say your name was? Ezekiel?”
“It’s Zeke, and no, it’s not going to be a problem.” Not when there was a cool million on the table.
“Then it’s agreed. You will report to me every couple of days. I don’t care how trivial you think it is. I want to know everything. My secretary will give you the address and contact details. We’re done here.”
With that, he strode out of the room. What the fuck just happened?
I stared after him. What had I signed myself up for? But money was money, and I needed something to fill my days that didn’t involve rolling my eyes at my brother and his mate.
In the twelve months since they’d met, my life had been hell. Mal hated humans, so imagine everyone’s surprise when his mate turned out to be just that. Jason was great, don’t get me wrong, but since he’d moved into our house, I made any excuse to be out of there.
I had plenty of places to stay, knew lots of willing people who were ready to put me up for a night or two. Any more than that, and they might think we were in a relationship.
I didn’t do those, content with spreading the love. Everyone deserved a little Zeke in their lives, and who was I to deny them that pleasure?
And it would be a pleasure, I made sure of that. I didn’t like to brag, but I was never short of offers. Not sure if the tail had something to do with it, although I was no pussycat.
An attractive woman entered the room. Her tight ebony dress accentuated her many curves. Voluptuous, pert breasts spilt out of the V-neckline, low enough to glimpse the dark areola surrounding her erect nipples.
Maybe I could have a little fun before heading back to the UK. I inhaled deeply, taking in her scent, which was laced with the unmistakable aroma of her arousal. I bet she’d taste as sweet as she smelt.
My dick twitched in the tight black leathers I favoured. Yeah, definitely interested in a little carnal pleasure.
“You must be Zeke.” My name rolled off her tongue. Why was the Italian accent so sexy?
She took a step closer, her essence overpowering the closer she got.
“You have me at a disadvantage, bella.”
“I’m Isadora. I have the information you need.”
“I’ll bet you have a lot that I need. Your boss wasn’t particularly hospitable, though. I wonder if you wouldn’t like to make it up to me? I am doing him a favour after all.”
“Oh, I’m sure we could come to some arrangement.” She parted her lips slightly, and a flush crept up her neck, colouring her ivory skin.
She rested against the desk and folded her arms, pushing her tits upwards and outwards. The fabric of the dress slipped a little more, revealing a tantalising peek at the dark, puckered skin.
I adjusted the hardness in my jeans as she licked her lips, a fine sheen of perspiration forming on her forehead. It was kind of warm.
“And just what kind of arrangement are we talking about?” By now, I stood in front of her, my feet on either side of hers. She was intoxicating.
Raven hair cascaded over her shoulders in gentle waves, her dark eyes focused on my mouth. She reminded me of Sophia Loren, all curves and sensuality. I placed a hand on her hip, but she tensed at my touch. Had I read this wrong?
I didn’t think so. I was astute when it came to sex, and the delicate hand now on my shoulder told me I was right.
She squeezed, and it was my turn to tense.
“Hmm, I like a man with muscles.” She ran her hand down my bare arm. It tingled where she touched, and the hairs on my arms stood to attention.
They weren’t the only thing to do that, and my cock pressed painfully against the zip of my trousers.
Her eyes roamed over my face, and if I weren’t careful, I’d expose myself in more ways than one. I’d not divulged the fact that I wasn’t human, able to control my transformation to a demon. My eyes were another story, but the blue contacts would hide their usual yellow.
The beast within was straining to get out. I’d not had a reaction like this in a long while, and dread shot through me.
No. No way. She couldn’t possibly be my mate. That could never happen to me, but impulses like this occurred if the person was your mate… or they were a demon themselves.
I stepped back out of reach, backing away as far as I could.
“Reveal yourself,” I demanded.
Isadora threw her head back and laughed, her dark locks transforming to a dirty blonde. Red eyes replaced the chocolate brown I’d gazed into mere moments before.
“I should have known better than to tempt another demon. Oh yes. I know all about you, Ezekiel. Your reputation precedes you.”
Well, that was something at least, but what the hell was she doing here?
“Why is he paying me when he has you on the payroll?” Something didn’t add up.
“I don’t work for Mr Marinelli. I work for Dante. I keep an eye on his investment.” Up close, she wasn’t the beauty I thought she was, and her figure left a lot to be desired. Gone were the curves and the perky boobs, replaced with an ageing saggy body in an ill-fitting dress.
So I was right. He had sold his soul. They weren’t difficult to spot. Name a celebrity that barely aged, and you could bet your bottom dollar something else was at work, not just a nip and a tuck.
Maybe she could give me more insight, seeing how Ernesto had given me so little to work with.
“Does he know what I am?” I asked. Was that why I’d got the job?
“No, he has no idea, and I’m not about to tell him. Who he employs to do his dirty work is of no interest to me or Dante.”
“And is it dirty work?” Not that I cared. Did I mention the hefty payout?
“It depends. I liked Rory, and Carlotta was a joy when she was here. Always happy until her momma passed away. The light in both of them died when she did.”
“But he wants them back.”
“No. He wants Carlotta back. I don’t think he cares one way or the other with Rory. He’d let him rot in hell if he had a choice. He doesn’t, by the way. That’s not his decision, as you know.”
“How long ago did Mia die?” I was interested in the story.
“Why? Don’t think about getting up to your old tricks. I know all about your previous sideline. You caused Dante no end of problems. Resurrecting people when they had no rights being brought back to life.”
“A guy needs a hobby.”
“Pfft. Hobby indeed. Any more and we’d have had a zombie apocalypse.”
I rolled my eyes. Someone was exaggerating. “It was a handful of people at most.”
Okay, a couple of hundred, but that was hardly a reason to call an end to it. Most of them turned out all right, and I’d only had a few complaints.
She carried on, ignoring my last comment.
“But in answer to your question, Mia died a couple of years ago. I’d have put money on Rory staying here for twelve months at the most, but Carlotta fell ill, and Ernesto brought in the best doctors to treat her. I could see the indecision in Rory, but he stuck around.
“Then Ernesto went to Sicily. A planned business trip. Next thing I knew, Rory and Carlotta were gone. Ernesto was livid when he returned. I’ve never seen him that way. He was incensed. Vowed he’d kill Rory if he saw him again.”
Was I doubting my decision? Nah, of course not. I had no conscience. I was a demon. Who the fuck cared?
But something niggled inside. Something that didn’t sit right, although I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“You’d best give me the addresses and anything else you’ve got.” I was desperate now to be out of here. The sooner this job was done, the better, and I could sun myself on warmer shores.
I reckoned that within a couple of weeks, Ernesto would be off my back, and then it’d be onto the next job.
“Here.” Isadora handed me a red folder. “I can email the information to you if you’d prefer, but Ernesto doesn’t want any digital trail. When you’ve finished with the information, you’re to destroy it. Nothing is to remain. Do you understand?”
I nodded, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was going to go sideways, and if I’d have been half the person Mal was, I’d have walked away from it.
But I wasn’t. I was Zeke. Known for having no scruples. Zeke who couldn’t care less about anyone else.
I took the file from her and watched as she once again transformed into the dark-haired temptress.
“I’ll be in touch,” I said and left.
“Don’t keep Ernesto waiting.”
On the way back to the airport, I flicked through the file, making a mental note of the address. Carlotta looked the twelve years old that she was. Long dark hair, olive skin, a cute smile.
Nothing like her father. She must have favoured her mother.
Rory had a haunted look on his face. I’d seen it before. The exact look Jason had worn the first time he walked into Perfect Shores.
Yet there was no disguising how handsome he was. I fingered the picture, brushing my fingertips across the lips set in a line, the steely blue eyes, the high cheekbones and dark blond hair that was too long and messy, but it suited him.
Once again, something niggled inside me. Not like before, not a sense of foreboding. No, this was my demon squirming, an unsettling feeling I pushed down.
I couldn’t afford to be distracted. Time to get the job done.