Page 1 of Mafia Tales

Chapter One

ROWAN

Age 18

I had spent the morning spying on one of the guards. Creeping around the building watching him pad around the northern edge of the forest, I could only declare that Riven Dalmatius wasdelicious. If I were telling a friend about him back in Cloverdale, we’d giggle and swoon over him. He was a treat you’d unwrap and savor. With dark hair, eyes the color of a fern, and shoulders that looked like he could move mountains, Riven was in every dream I’d had lately. Then he had caught me and humiliated me, reminding me that I was far too young at eighteen to be chasing after him. He wasn’t interested in little girls fresh out of the school. Fucker.

"Rowan … " The voice comes sing-song, mocking, to interrupt the peace that I've found back away from the stream (away from Riven). I don't even need to turn around to know who has snuck up on me. Marco, another man that works for Lillian, has come round the woodhouse. He takes a few steps closer, looking at me with heavy-lidded eyes. What a creep.

"Lillian wants to see you," Marco says, each syllable dripping with barely concealed lust. I'd never heard Marco speak in anything other than an uncomfortably familiar tone. He is Lillian's faithful servant and does anything she asks of him, including fetching her new sullen ward from the woods. It must chafe at him that he isn’t supposed to touch me. That’s exactly what I have been since I arrived at Lillian’s home months ago.

Depressed and moody since the death of my parents, I lose myself in the forest where at least I can find a moment's peace. Marco is the last one I want to find me. I wish it was Riven, the tall, dark, and handsome wolf shifter, but I’m sure he is avoiding me like the plague.

"What does she want?" I ask in a snotty tone, though I suspect she has summoned me to make me do something I don't want to do. At eighteen, being reasonable isn’t in my repertoire just yet.

Marco's lips curl in a wolfish grin. "Not my problem," he says. He motions for me to follow him, but I don't budge. Marco's expression hardens. "If I were you, I'd move along."

I take a deep breath and get to my feet. There's no sense in arguing with Marco. He knows that I have no choice but to obey. I follow him, heart heavy and mouth dry. Since the day I arrived, his eyes have tracked me too closely for my comfort. I walk behind him, taking measured steps to keep up with his long and confident gait.

Marco is tall and muscular, with a rugged handsomeness that makes most women swoon. But I know better. I've heard the rumors of his cruelty; of the way he likes to inflict pain on those who disobey Lillian's orders. I've seen the way his eyes linger on me, hungry and possessive. I know that I'm not safe with him.

We walk through the forest, following a narrow path that leads to Lillian's cottage. The scent of vodka and cigarettes that I associate with Marco wafts from him, disturbing the otherwise pine and earth of the forest. I scuff my shoes along the edge of the ground in the moss and dirt. Keeping my eyes on the ground so I don’t have to focus much on where I’m going. Lillian probably wants to talk more about feelings. Like that’s going to help. They’re still dead. Deader than dead. I’m lost in my thoughts when there is arush of movement and Marco has me shoved against a wall, my shoulders pinned back, his face close to mine. “What are you doing?” My voice quavers. I had been lost in my memories like an idiot, unaware of my surroundings.

Marco's grin widens, revealing teeth that are too white against his tanned skin. "Just enjoying the view," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. "I've been waiting for my chance to get you alone."

I shove against his chest in desperation, but it's like pushing a brick wall. Fear courses through my veins and my heartbeat thunders in my ears. I feel like I'm fighting for my life as his cold fingers wrap around my wrists.

"Let me go," I plead, but Marco just laughs at my feeble attempts. His hand snakes around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I can feel the hard line of his body pressed against mine, and I shudder in revulsion.

"Come on, Rowan," he says, his voice low and seductive. His hand rucks up the edges of my skirt and I realize I'm crying as I push against him. "I see you looking at me." His lips brush against my neck, and I can't help the involuntary shiver of disgust that runs through me as he licks me. Looking at him? Is he insane? If I’m lookingat him, it’s only to make sure he’s not looking at me. Ugh.

"Get the fuck away from her." Marco is pulled from me suddenly and shoved away. "You like little girls now you sick fuck?" Riven’s voice sounds, his face is a mask of scorn as he looks at Marco.

His eyes flick to me. "Red, you, okay?" Concern flashes across his face, but anger quickly replaces it as those eyes of his move over me and then to Marco. He looks at him like he's a bug he's going to like squash and I can’t help but feel glad.

I fold my arms over my chest, trying to hide my trembling from him. "I'm fine, thanks Riven." He is the only one who chances to call me by that odious nickname. I’ve always hated that he was poking fun at my hair, but right now I find comfort in it. Although it makes me mad he is calling me a little girl. I glance at Marco who has dropped into a fighting stance, glaring at Riven.

"I'm not finished with you," Marco seethes. I’m not sure if his words are intended for me or for Riven.

"Ifuckingdare you," Riven says, taking a step towards him. Marco's lips pull back in a lowgrowl, revealing teeth that are too sharp to be human. His eyes seem to darken as they narrow. His hands twist into fists, claws extending from each finger like an animal ready to attack its prey. Edging away from them, I keep myself small as I head closer to the cottage. I know all too well that both of them are shifters - creatures that can shift their form from human to beast. Fear and anticipation hang heavy in the air.

"Enough!" Lillian's voice sounds out and I can’t say that I’m unhappy to hear her. Her small form is striding across from the cottage towards the unpleasant scene taking it all in. I’ve avoided her recently, but right now I could use her help. “Rowan, come here.” Her tone tells me there is no room for argument.

“Explain what’s been going on here,” Lillian’s voice is raised. My stomach drops. I know that voice. It's the voice that tells me to do things I don't want to do. I don't want to feel like that again. My hands clench, but I’m tired of feeling helpless.

“Nothing,” I push my voice to steady. “It was a minor disagreement,” I say. Even to me that is unconvincing considering the way Marco and Riven are posturing.

Lillian looks at me with skepticism. “Is that right?” Her eyes narrow on Marco’s face and then Riven’s. “If it was a minor disagreement. Let’s make sure that it doesn’t happen again.” There is no more to be said as she pushes me away from the men, but I can sense eyes burning into my back as I go towards the cottage with Lillian. It is then that I make promises to myself. That I will learn to defend myself. Maybe this isn’t the world that I want, but this is the world that I’m going to have.

Chapter Two

RIVEN

Three Years Later

Since the day that Rowan arrived, I knew she’d be a problem. I’d never seen anyone so ill-suited for the life of the Syndicate. Lillian had no business keeping her around, but apparently Lillian owed her father a favor or some dumb shit. At eighteen it would seem like she’d be able to make her own way in the world. Certainly, I’d been making my way longer than that. Although who the fuck was, I kidding? She was softer than a newly sprung daisy.

When she first came, Rowan was fresh from the death of parents. She moped around with tears brimming in her eyes. I could imagine no one mourning the death of a parent. (I certainly was happy to see mine go.) If her eyes weren’tbrimming with tears (or cast to the forest floor) I’d catch her watching me, following me with those grey eyes and plump lips. Later I’d jack off thinking of the curve of her lips and those damn freckles that danced over her nose – thinking of the way I’d lick every one of them. Yeah, I was a sick fuck.

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