Chapter 5 - MIDNIGHT SKIN
Roman changed at 3:17 in the morning.
Mia woke to screaming.
Not barking.
Not howling.
A man's scream.
She threw open the bedroom door.
Roman was on the floor.
His body convulsed beside the kitchen table.
"Roman!"
Tomas rushed in behind her.
"Don't touch the medallion!"
"I'm not!"
Roman's front legs twisted.
Mia heard bones shift.
Her stomach turned.
Black fur pulled backward along his shoulders.
His paws stretched.
For one impossible second Mia saw fingers.
Human fingers.
Then paws again.
Roman screamed.
Rosa came running with blankets.
"What is happening?"
"The curse is weakening," Tomas said.
"Or killing him."
Roman collapsed.
Mia dropped beside him.
His eyes opened.
Human.
Not simply intelligent.
Human.
His muzzle shortened.
His body trembled violently.
"Roman."
The transformation stopped.
Half his face remained animal.
Half looked horrifyingly human beneath disappearing fur.
Then his body snapped backward into the shape of the dog.
He lay still.
Mia touched his side.
Breathing.
"Roman?"
One blink.
She nearly cried.
Rosa sat against the cabinet.
"Madonna mia."
Tomas looked at the clock.
"3:17."
"So?"
"The ninth moon is approaching."
Mia stared.
"You said eight days."
"That doesn't mean the curse remains stable until then."
Roman attempted to stand.
His legs buckled.
"Stay down."
He ignored her.
"Roman."
He stopped.
Mia covered him with a blanket.
"You are the worst patient alive."
He looked offended.
"Yes, alive. Congratulations."
Then Roman's gaze shifted to the window.
A pale line of dawn had begun to appear.
His body tensed again.
Mia reached for him.
"Roman?"
The second transformation was quieter.
More frightening because of it.
His spine arched.
Fur withdrew.
Bones lengthened.
The blanket shifted.
Mia backed away only when Tomas pulled her.
"Give him room."
Thirty seconds later, a man's hand struck the floor.
Then another.
Bare shoulders appeared beneath the blanket.
Dark hair.
Blood.
Scars.
Roman gasped.
A human gasp.
Mia forgot how to breathe.
The animal shape disappeared completely.
A man lay on the kitchen floor.
Tall.
Powerfully built despite months of starvation.
Dark hair fell across his forehead.
His face was thinner than the photograph, cheekbones sharp, beard rough.
Scars marked his shoulder and ribs.
The silver wolf medallion remained around his neck.
Mia knew the eyes before he opened them.
Gray-green.
Roman Vescari drew one shaking breath.
Then another.
His lips moved.
"Mia."
Her heart stopped.
His voice was ruined.
Hoarse.
Weak.
But human.
"Roman?"
He looked at her.
"That's a terrible name."
She stared.
"What?"
"Cookie."
Tomas made a sound suspiciously close to laughter.
Mia's mouth fell open.
"You've been waiting eight months to speak, and that's your first complaint?"
Roman closed his eyes.
"I had... time to think about it."
She hit his shoulder.
He winced.
"Oh my God. Sorry."
Roman smiled.
A real smile.
Small.
Exhausted.
And so unexpectedly warm that Mia forgot every intelligent thing she'd planned to say if this impossible moment ever happened.
Rosa began crying.
Tomas knelt.
"Boss."
Roman looked at him.
For a moment something old passed between them.
Loyalty.
Anger.
History.
Then Roman said, "You got gray."
Tomas laughed and cried at the same time.
"You became a dog."
"Temporary setback."
Mia stared at them.
"Men really will turn anything into a competition."
Roman's eyes returned to her.
The amusement faded.
"You should have left."
There it was.
The voice she had imagined behind those eyes.
Controlled.
Low.
Used to being obeyed.
Mia crossed her arms.
"There he is."
Roman frowned.
"The arrogant criminal."
"Mia."
"No. You spent three days blinking orders at me. Somehow you're worse with vocabulary."
He tried sitting up.
The blanket slipped.
Mia turned immediately.
"Clothes."
Roman looked down.
"Right."
Rosa threw him sweatpants and a shirt.
Ten minutes later Roman sat at the table.
Human.
Barefoot.
Still wearing the medallion.
Mia couldn't stop looking.
He noticed.
"You're staring."
"I carried you up three flights of stairs."
"I remember."
"You drooled on my pillow."
"I was injured."
"You also ate half a jar of peanut butter."
Roman's jaw tightened.
"I hadn't eaten properly in days."
"You hated kibble."
"It smelled like cardboard."
"It's dog food."
"Exactly."
Mia laughed.
She couldn't help it.
Roman watched her.
His expression softened.
Then pain tore through his face.
He gripped the table.
"Roman?"
His hand changed.
Fingers shortened.
Nails darkened.
He swore.
Tomas checked the clock.
The human form had lasted eleven minutes.
Roman looked at Mia.
"Listen."
"To what?"
"If it happens completely—"
"What?"
"If I stop changing back."
Mia's smile disappeared.
Roman struggled to speak.
"Do not let Matteo use you."
"I'm not planning on it."
"He will."
"You don't know me very well."
"I know enough."
His voice deepened unnaturally.
The curse pulled at him.
Roman grabbed Mia's wrist.
His grip was still human.
"Mia."
She stopped.
"Matteo doesn't threaten what he wants."
Roman's breathing became ragged.
"He threatens what someone else wants."
Mia understood.
Me.
"If he realizes—"
Roman couldn't finish.
His fingers became paws.
Seconds later the man disappeared.
The black dog collapsed beside the table.
Mia remained frozen.
Tomas quietly said, "He was going to say if Matteo realizes Roman cares about you."
Mia looked at him.
"I know."
Roman closed his eyes.
She crouched beside him.
"Too bad."
One eye opened.
"You didn't get rid of me when you could talk."
Roman gave her a look.
"And you're definitely not getting rid of me now."
By afternoon, the plan had formed.
Tomas had three people still loyal inside Vescari Tower.
Rosa had access to old family accounts.
Mia had something neither man possessed.
Matteo didn't consider her dangerous.
"He thinks you're emotional leverage," Tomas said.
"Good."
Roman watched from the couch.
Mia spread photographs across the table.
"Matteo wants Roman delivered publicly or privately?"
"Privately."
"Then we do the opposite."
Tomas leaned forward.
Mia pointed to the gala ballroom blueprint.
"Three hundred guests. Press entrance here. Main stage here. Security here."
"You've done this before?"
"I worked weddings at the Lakeshore Hotel for four years."
"That's not remotely the same thing."
"Rich people plus alcohol plus people pretending not to hate each other? Sounds close."
Tomas conceded the point.
"We need Matteo talking."
"Roman knows how to push him."
Roman gave one blink.
"You really think your brother will confess because a dog growls at him?"
Roman stared.
"Fair."
Tomas placed a small audio transmitter on the table.
"We also need proof."
Mia picked it up.
"Put this on me."
Roman immediately growled.
"Stop."
Another growl.
"I'm the only person Matteo doesn't know belongs to your side."
Roman stood.
"No."
The word wasn't spoken.
Mia heard it anyway.
She knelt.
"Roman, we need him to underestimate somebody."
He paced.
"He's spent his whole life underestimating you?"
Roman stopped.
Mia smiled faintly.
"Then let's give him one more woman to underestimate."
At seven that evening they left for the gala.
Rosa found Mia a black dress from a garment rack in the safehouse.
Simple.
Elegant.
Nothing like anything she owned.
Tomas handed her an invitation.
"Who am I?"
"Amelia Grant. Donor relations."
Mia examined herself in the mirror.
She barely recognized the woman staring back.
Roman stood behind her.
For several seconds neither moved.
Mia turned.
"What?"
He stared.
Then looked away.
Tomas cleared his throat.
Rosa smiled knowingly.
Mia pointed at Roman.
"Don't make this weird."
Roman sneezed.
"That sounded judgmental."
They entered the service elevator beneath Vescari Tower at 8:42 p.m.
Roman hid inside a catering equipment crate with ventilation holes.
He despised this.
Mia knew because he'd attempted to bite the crate twice.
"Former mafia boss defeated by rolling kitchen equipment."
A low growl came through the panel.
"Behave."
Tomas whispered, "You understand nobody in his organization has ever spoken to him like that."
"Maybe that's why his organization became dysfunctional."
The elevator doors opened.
Music drifted from the ballroom.
Crystal chandeliers.
Black suits.
Designer gowns.
Politicians smiling at people they probably investigated.
Mia stepped out with a tray in her hands.
Then she saw him.
Matteo Vescari.
He looked enough like Roman to make her stomach turn.
Same dark hair.
Same height.
Same sharp features.
But the eyes were different.
Roman's watched everything.
Matteo's expected everything to belong to him.
He stood on the stage holding a champagne glass.
"Eight months ago," Matteo told the guests, "my family suffered an unimaginable loss."
Inside the crate, Roman went perfectly still.
"My brother Roman was complicated."
Tomas clenched his jaw.
"But he believed in legacy."
Mia stared at Matteo.
"And tonight, we continue his."
Applause filled the ballroom.
Matteo smiled.
Then his eyes moved across the room.
And stopped directly on Mia.
The smile disappeared.
He handed his champagne to an aide.
Walked off the stage.
Straight toward her.
Tomas whispered through Mia's hidden earpiece.
"Don't run."
Matteo stopped two feet away.
"Amelia Grant?"
Mia smiled.
"Mr. Vescari."
He studied her face.
Then glanced at the tray.
"No."
Mia's stomach tightened.
"No?"
His smile returned.
"Mia Sullivan."
Across the ballroom, Tomas swore softly.
Matteo leaned closer.
"I've been waiting all evening."
Then he looked toward the catering crate.
May you like
Straight at Roman.
"And so has my brother."
