The Immortal Greek (14 page)

She walked straight to the first detail car she encountered at the end of her steps. “Hey there.”

A burly immortal in his forties lowered the window on the driver’s side. “Miss Del Sarto. What can I do for you?”

“I need a ride to the closest Metro station.” A pleasant smell of licorice hit her nostrils.

“Hop in.” The man leaned across the passenger seat and opened it for her, between his lips hung a stick of licorice. “I’m Raul Tano. I’m with the morning patrol.”

Ravenna shook his hand and sat. She made a mental note to get to know at least the names of the other men appointed by Samuel to keep her safe. Things had been happening at such a pace, she hadn’t stopped once to think. And that, again, scared her.

She focused on chitchatting with Raul, who even made her smile once or twice with his northern accent, and his anecdotes about his celeb detailing jobs. Once in a while, she checked her cell phone, but there weren’t any missed calls.

“The night patrol found nothing suspicious last night,” Raul finally informed her as they neared one of the Metro A station and he pulled to the curb to let her out. “See you later, Miss Del Sarto.”

She thanked him and followed the crowd entering the underground subway. Riding the Metro wasn’t her favorite activity—she didn’t like the immersion in the human world—and at that time of the day, the station was at full capacity. She walked down the stairs, bought her ticket from the vending machine, punched it, and walked to her platform, trying to avoid touching other people. She found a relatively quiet corner, and waited for her train to arrive.

Memories from the night before kept playing for her. Her longing for Alexander had been intense. Hoping that making love to him would assuage her desire after driving back home from Santa Severa, she had made a U-turn and headed to his house instead. The whole drive, her mind concocted images of Alexander making love to her, and she sped up, flying through Rome as if her life depended on it. Her heart had drummed against her ribcage so fast and loud, she thought she would faint at the wheel before reaching him. Scared by her own feelings, she had waited a few minutes outside his house under a deluge of water that had done nothing to cool the heat burning her from within. Then the idea that if she didn’t climb those stairs to his door there might not be another chance ever again for her to know what it felt to be one with him made her sprint up and ring the bell. Pietro had smiled at her and she hadn’t cared if he thought badly of her for coming that late at night. The moment Alexander had entered the Japanese studio, wild passion in his eyes, she had lost any power of reasoning and let her body command her actions. Her hopes hadn’t been fulfilled. Hours of lovemaking hadn’t extinguished the flames; her body still burned for him. Where he had touched her, her skin tingled.

The train arrived, she entered the closest cabin, clutched a handle, then exited at her stop at the Spanish Steps station in a complete haze. She had kept thinking of him the whole time, unaware of the people surrounding her, crashing against her, pushing her. Once she emerged from the subway, her first impulse was to call him. She needed to explain why she’d fled from his bed the way she had. If she called right away, he might understand her. She reached inside her purse and her heart plummeted all the way to her stomach when she realized her phone wasn’t there. She’d left it in Raul’s car.

She almost headed back to the subway. Then she remembered how anxious Malina had sounded and decided Alexander would listen to her later. She would stop by a grocery store on her way home and invite him for dinner. Her mind partially at ease, she took Via Condotti and strode toward the Antico Caffè Greco, where she found Malina sitting at a table, sipping an espresso. As Ravenna sat, a waiter immediately took her order, then cleared the cup Malina had just emptied.

Ravenna noticed Malina was wearing the same clothes from the day before and her face showed weariness. “Did you sleep last night?”

“I tried, but my informer called me soon after we left Santa Severa and he doesn’t live close. When you called back, I had just arrived here.” She made a sign to a passing waiter to bring her another espresso. “It was worth the hassle though.”

Both their coffees and the plate of croissants Ravenna had ordered arrived a moment later. Ravenna drank her espresso with two teaspoons of sugar, hoping the caffeine would clear her mind so she could focus on whatever Malina had to say.

Malina gulped her coffee black and nibbled at the pastries. “My informant told me that someone in the big spheres is involved in the Immortal Death trade.”

“Did he specify this someone’s species?”

Malina shook her head and took a small bite from the croissant she had put on her saucer. “No, he didn’t say.” She looked up and asked for a glass of sparkling water, then looked back at Ravenna. “But it seems that several species would be glad to see the Immortal Council’s power lessen among the Peace Pact alliance.”

Ravenna frowned. “That’s nothing new.” She made to stand, but Malina grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

“No, that’s old history. What is new is that your name came up a lot during my nocturnal chat.” Malina released her hold on Ravenna, and she sat down.

“Why?”

“It seems you’ve been targeted.” Malina finished her croissant.

Ravenna couldn’t repress a snort. “You think?”

“My guy said it was personal.”

“It’s always personal.”

Malina took her hand and Ravenna let her. “Please, be careful.”

Despite her words, Ravenna felt nervous. She nodded and ordered a
caffè corretto
. The shot of Grappa liquor should have helped, but it felt like water in her throat.

By the time Marcus entered the gym, Alexander had already spent almost two hours hitting the punching dummy with both kicks and fists. It hadn’t helped improve his dark mood. On the contrary, he felt worse.

Earlier in the morning, before opening his eyes, he had stretched out his arm looking for Ravenna in his bed, but he hadn’t found her. He had left the bed and called her from the adjacent bathroom, but she hadn’t been there. After throwing on the first shirt and pants he found, he had gone downstairs, sure she was having breakfast in the kitchen. Pietro had promptly informed him that his guest had left already and that she had looked to be in a hurry.

He had stormed out of the house and driven to his gym, where he had scared away a few of his new patrons upon entering the place. Ophelia rang, but he let her call go to the voicemail and resumed his punitive training. Every punch he dealt the dummy was meant to lessen the sting caused by Ravenna abandoning him. He had checked his cell phone several times, but she hadn’t called. Finally, he had called Marcus and let the phone ring until his friend answered.

“I could beat you to a pulp if that might help.” Marcus positioned himself behind the punching dummy and steadied it.

“Aren’t you just the most helpful of friends?” He leaned over to take a breather, his hands on his bent knees.

“I’m one tired friend who should be sleeping by his wife’s side, not looking at your ugly face.” Marcus stepped out from behind the dummy and gave him a good look. “What happened to you?”

Alexander bitterly laughed. “A woman.”

“
A
woman?” Marcus’s eyes widened in surprise. “Who?”

The gym’s wide, opaque glass door opened and Lena Chiosi, one of Alexander’s least favorite journalists, and her cameraman stormed in.

“Mister Drako, is it true you’re dating two women at once again?” The blonde had been a severe pain in Alexander’s posterior for the last three years. Among all the gossip mongers in Rome, she was the one who never relented.

“Miss Chiosi, I must ask you to leave. This is a private gym.” Alexander usually humored her by confirming or denying whatever she had come up with.

The journalist shook her pretty head and pouted. “But, Mister Drako, all the
Roman Chronicle’s
readers want to know. Is it true?”

“Please, I don’t want to have to escort you out.” He gave the cameraman who was filming the scene a nod.

The journalist stepped closer to him. “We saw you with two black-haired beauties outside your favorite pizzeria—”

Alexander breathed slowly, trying not to let his temper flare out at the woman. “Out.”

“We have a photo of the three of you outside Pizzeria della Lupa—” Lena reached for the satchel hanging from her shoulder and retrieved a stack of enlarged photographs. “And also outside your house—” She angled them toward the camera, and showed them one by one while she explained what the grainy prints represented. “Here they’re kissing while they wait for you.” She skipped several, then pointed her finger at the last one in the stack. “This one was taken earlier today.”

Alexander made the mistake of looking at the pictures and his heart slammed against his chest.

“Here, the shorter one is leaving your house. She’s disheveled and seems she’s been crying.” She raised the picture to the camera, then turned to Alexander. “Did things get dicey in your fabled
playroom
?”

Marcus stepped in. “It’s past time for you to leave.”

“Our readers have a right to know.” The blonde looked at the centurion defiantly, arms crossed over her chest, ready for the scene to be played before the camera.

Marcus surprised Alexander by smiling at the woman and stepping closer to her. Lena backpedaled, but Marcus was faster and leaned over her before she could say or do anything. Alexander heard him whisper something to her, but couldn’t make out the words. Whatever he had said worked. The journalist’s eyes lit in pleasure and she looked at Alexander with renewed interest.

She signaled for the cameraman to stop recording, then headed toward the exit. “Have a great day, Mister Drako, and see you soon.”

Alexander waited for the door to close behind her and her shadow, then sighed out loud and faced his friend. “What did you promise her?”

Marcus shrugged. “You’ll take her on a date.”

“You’re kidding.”

“You know I’m not the type.” Marcus went to the corner to don two gloves and walked to the roped ring. “Tell me all about this woman.”

Alexander felt like killing him, but punching him would suffice. He went to his locker to retrieve his gloves, then joined him in the ring.

Marcus was taller than he and more muscular, but Alexander was angry and more agile. After circling each other, Marcus sunk his fist into Alexander’s right shoulder.

“Who is she?” Marcus feigned a right upper jab, but Alexander evaded at the last moment.

“Ravenna Del Sarto.” Alexander danced on his feet, looking for an opening.

“The
Enforcer
?” Marcus was taken aback by his revelation and Alexander spun his left leg around and hit him square in the solar plexus.

“The Enforcer.” Alexander managed to hit him twice again, once in the jaw, and then in the stomach.

Marcus nodded, then leaned back and Alexander missed the third hit. “Well, it makes sense.” He swung his fists in a series of three lower jabs and all three reached their targets. “If anybody would take you down, it would be someone like the
Enforcer
.”

Alexander spun a roundhouse kick that caught Marcus on the side of his face. “Do. Not. Disrespect. Her.”

Marcus massaged his jaw, but reciprocated the favor with a kick Alexander couldn’t evade. “Everybody calls her that. You just did.”

“It’s different.” Alexander had to stop and raised one hand. “I think you broke a rib with that last kick.” He brought his hand to his chest and probed with light fingers the painful spot under his right pectoral. “Yep.” He grimaced.

“What a sissy.” Marcus patted him on the shoulder. “It’s your Greek origins.” He removed his gloves and offered him his hand. “Why don’t you make some coffee? I could use a cup or two. I haven’t slept in three days.”

Alexander doffed his gloves and took his hand, smiling at his friend. “Should I ask why?”

Marcus’s eyes lit with a joy Alexander had rarely seen on his friend’s face. “The strings you pulled for Diana and I to adopt worked—”

“Congrats!” He pulled Marcus in for a one-armed hug against his chest and winced in pain.

“Diana doesn’t know yet. During the day, I’ve been building a nursery I want to surprise her with.”

Alexander’s heart swelled for his friend. “Look at you, a brutish, dim-minded Roman acting like a nice immortal being.”

Marcus made to hit him, but stopped his fist over the sore spot on Alexander’s chest. “It’s a newborn were-bat boy. His parents died in a car accident. They were both renegades and none in the shifter community asked for the boy. He’ll grow up nocturnal, so it’s a perfect fit for us.”

“I’m so happy for you, my friend.” Alexander limped toward the alcove dug into the tuff rock wall where he had built a small makeshift kitchenette. “I didn’t even feel the hit on my leg. You could’ve been gentler at least.”

“You needed a good beating.” Marcus followed him, then sat at one of the two foldable chairs by the small round table.

“Thank you very much.” Alexander grimaced when he reached up toward the shelf with the coffee can and the moka.

“You’re so welcome.” Marcus crossed his legs under the table and almost toppled it over. “So what happened with her that ruffled your feathers so much?”

“She left my bed without a good-bye, an explanation, nothing.” Alexander proceeded to fill the moka with the coffee, and after a brief glance at Marcus’s tired eyes, poured two tablespoons more to make it stronger.

Marcus raised. “Your bed as in
your
bed?”

Alexander tilted his head by the side.

Marcus’s eyes widened. “You’re screwed.”

Alexander couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. “Again, thank you.” He closed the moka tight and turned the camp stove on low.

Marcus shrugged and raised his hands high. “You know I’m the last person you should call when it comes to relationship problems.”

“You were right. I did call you for a good beating.” Alexander slumped on the chair opposite Marcus.

“Feeling any better?” Marcus sobered up.

“Nope.”

“I tried my best.”

“I know.” Alexander’s hand went automatically to his chest again and he winced. The moka hissed and he turned off the burner. “How many teaspoons of sugar today?”

Marcus raised three fingers. Alexander poured the espresso in two of his China cups, then measured out the sugar for Marcus, but kept his black and opened the small fridge under the window to get some milk. He splashed his coffee with a few drops of it. “Thanks for coming.” He raised the cup to his head and slightly nodded at Marcus.

Marcus laughed. “I didn’t have a choice. You would have woken Diana and potentially ruined my surprise.” He drank his espresso in one gulp and set the cup down, turning toward the entry when the door chimed.

Alexander had turned too, worried the journalist had come back, but instead Samuel strode in, looking for him. He saw Marcus stiffen. “Marcus?”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry.” He unclenched his fists and put his palms on his thighs.

In a few easy strides, the massive angel was beside them. If Marcus was big, Samuel almost dwarfed him. “Alexander.” He offered Alexander his hand. Then he turned to acknowledge Marcus who stood and stared at the angel for a long moment.

Alexander feared he would have to separate the two. He was working hard to have his friend pardoned, and the fact he and his wife would be able to adopt was an important step toward that. But as a renegade, Marcus lived at the fringe of the paranormal society and tended to have the worst opinion of anyone who worked for the Immortal Council. Fortunately, Diana was having a calming effect on her hotheaded husband.

“Alexander told me the part you had in saving Diana and myself last year.” Marcus, surprising everyone in the gym, kneeled before the angel and lowered his head. “I am in your debt.”

Samuel looked shocked, but he grabbed Marcus’s arms and helped him up. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you and Alexander everything. Diana is alive thanks to you.” Marcus’s voice was hoarse. “Thank you.” He blinked, then pivoted on his heels and faced Alexander. “I must go.”

He walked away, leaving Alexander and Samuel speechless for several seconds.

“Your friend’s intense.” The angel sat on the chair Marcus had vacated and looked at the moka behind Alexander’s shoulders.

Alexander raised his eyes heavenward, a smile tugging at his lips. “Romans.” He tilted his head to the side to point at the moka. “I’ll brew a fresh pot. I haven’t had enough coffee yet.” With his back to the angel, he busied himself preparing the new brew. “Do you have time to train?”

“Yes, I feel restless today.”

“Tell me about it.” Alexander pressed the coffee in the moka’s chamber, then gave it a good twist with both hands.

“Did you hear from Ravenna today?”

“The enforcer’s communication skills aren’t great.” Alexander lowered the locked moka on the stove and repressed a grunt when his fingers brushed the burner’s flames. “Why should I have heard from her, anyway?” He leaned against the gigantic seashell he had retrofitted to use as a sink.

“Just worried about her. Threats come with the territory, but—” Samuel lowered one hand on the table while he caressed the dark stubble on his jaw with the other.

Alexander felt the honey-colored gaze of the angel studying him. “But?”

“I don’t know. She’s been attacked, then followed...” Samuel steepled his hands. “I’ve asked to double the units detailing her house.”

“Good thinking.” The second pot of coffee was already whistling, but Alexander’s focus was somewhere else.

“The espresso is burning.” Samuel moved the chair aside and closed the gap between the table and the stove by simply leaning over it and turning the burner off. “Alexander?”

Alexander’s nostrils twitched at the burnt smell. “The coffee, yes.” He grabbed the moka from the protective handle and opened the lid. “It’s still drinkable.”

“Are you up for a session?” After finishing his cup with a disgusted grimace, Samuel pointed his thumb at the roped ring to the right.

“Didn’t you have enough last time?” Alexander’s heart wasn’t in the banter.

Samuel stood, but remembered to lower his head not to hit the alcove’s ceiling. “For someone so small, you have a very big tongue, immortal.”

Alexander looked up and sneered at the towering angel whose broken wings were dusting the alcove’s wall. He knew Samuel was wounded by the reaction he had on people. Paranormals were a judgmental lot. “Let’s rearrange your features and see if you can improve.”

Samuel frowned at him, then offered his hand to help Alexander up. “Really? That’s the best you can do today?”

“What can I say? I’m warming up to you.” Alexander swatted the angel’s hand away.

Samuel laughed and stepped out. “Too bad you only like women.”

Alexander’s thoughts went immediately to
a
woman and his stomach clenched. “Who knows? Maybe a change of scenery would do me good. But Marcus is taken and you’re too ugly.” He donned his gloves, but he was already hurting from his previous sparring with Marcus and couldn’t concentrate long enough to defend himself.

Samuel let Alexander hit him once or twice, but when one of his upper jabs sent Alexander to the mat, he called it quits. “Maybe I can train with that petite brunette over there. She looks much more challenging than you.”

This time, Alexander accepted the angel’s hand. “Martina is actually a great boxer and great to chitchat with.” He called her over and made the introductions. Martina, a businesswoman in her mid-thirties, was one of the gym’s fittest patrons, and always eager to find training partners.

The brunette looked first at Samuel, then at Alexander with a puzzled expression. “Yeah, sure.”