“Bella?” Ettore’s voice was flat with dread.
He had to feel her shock. Her terror.
His hands shook as he pulled her away from him so he could see her face. Her gaze was still riveted on the water, her mind still caught in the hideous vision.
“Sweetheart, what is it? Tell me what’s wrong.”
She could hardly find the words.
Because at that moment, the Breed male in her mind’s eye lifted his ruined head. His furious, blazing amber eyes seemed to reach out for her through the water.
“It’s him,” she murmured. “Massioni. He’s alive.”
Chapter 11
Bella’s vision weighed on Savage like a ton of bricks parked on his chest, a weight that was only increasing in the hours since she’d described what she’d seen in the water. The very thing he’d dreaded, the mistake he’d made in not making sure he had finished the job, was soon coming home to roost. He had no doubt of that.
Unfortunately, Bella hadn’t been certain if she’d seen Massioni in the immediate future, or days—even weeks—from now.
Nor did it matter.
The son of a bitch had survived the blast that should have killed him.
Vito Massioni was alive, and that meant Savage had failed in his mission for the Order.
He could only pray he hadn’t failed Bella in the process.
And to make certain of that, he was doing the only thing he could think of to ensure their safety.
“Everyone ready to go, sweetheart?”
Bella nodded as she strode toward him from the back bedroom. “Chiara will be right behind me. She’s having a bit of trouble with Pietro. The poor thing has been having nightmares most of the day.”
“Understandable,” Savage said. “The kid has been through quite an ordeal. You all have.” He drew Bella under the shelter of his arm. “We need to be on the road to Rome as soon as the sun sets. It’s only a few hours away, but the sooner I get you and your family there, the better I’ll feel.”
She peered up at him, stroking his tense jaw. “You’re sure your comrades won’t mind taking us in for a while?”
“You’re my mate, Bella. Chiara and Pietro are my family now too. The command center may not be a suitable home for a child, but somehow we’ll find a way to make it work.”
Her gaze was tender on him. “You’re a good man, Ettore.”
“I want to be,” he said. “For you. And that means making sure you’re as far out of Massioni’s reach as possible. At least until I can finish him for good.”
Savage seethed with the urge to fix his fuck-up personally and painfully with the bastard. There was a time when he would have.
Before Bella reentered his life, he’d thought nothing of charging into the fray of a dangerous situation to take out a target. He’d never had a death wish, but as a warrior pledged in service to the Order, his life had been expendable if it meant the difference between success or failure of one of his missions.
All that had changed now. Bella and he were bonded. Now, if he were injured—if he were killed—she would feel his anguish as if it were her own.
She would suffer everything he did, just as he would endure her every pain or fear.
So, no matter how viciously he wanted to make Vito Massioni pay for every hour of every year he’d held Bella prisoner for his own gain, Savage had to exercise caution. He had to be sure he didn’t fail—with her or with the Order.
She rested her head against his chest, where the heavy pound of his heartbeat throbbed. “I’m scared, Ettore.”
“Don’t be,” he murmured, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m not going to let him get you. I’m not going to let him get Chiara or her son either.”
“I know you won’t. But I’m scared for you.” She drew in a shallow, ragged breath. “If I ever lose you again—”
“You won’t.” Guiding her gaze up to his, Savage urged her to see the resolve in his eyes. She had to feel it in her blood now, through the bond that would join them forever. He slid his hand around her nape and brought her to him for an unrushed kiss that ensured she felt all of the love and promise that he held for her in his heart.
He could have kissed her for hours, and he swore to himself that he would, once he made sure she and her family were safely returned to Rome.
Sensing they were no longer alone, Savage turned his head and found Scythe standing there. Christ, the male might be immense and formidable, but he moved like a wraith.
He held out his left hand, a vehicle starter in his palm.
“What’s this?” Savage asked, pivoting to face the former Hunter. The key fob was for a Range Rover—a new one, by the look of it. Scythe handed it to him.