The Immortal Greek

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The Immortal Greek Page 8

by Monica La Porta


  Meanwhile, they had left the underground garage and Castel Sant’ Angelo behind. The sun was shining high in the sky and she raised her face heavenward to soak up the healing power of the rays.

  They had left the Lungotevere Flaminio Boulevard to merge into Corso Francia Avenue, when Alexander abruptly asked her, “What’s the deal with you and this Peace Pact enforcer?” He had been driving for several minutes in silence, and seemingly engrossed in his own thoughts.

  She should have asked by now if he had any telepathic power. “I don’t know what—”

  “Pardon my reach.” He leaned over and outstretched his right arm—the one she had been studying until a moment ago—toward the glove compartment before her legs. “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.” He pushed the button at the center of it, waited for the door to open halfway through, then rummaged inside. “Here they are.” He pulled out his hand, holding a pair of shades he put on. “Much better. Too much glare.” He hadn’t brushed her skin once. Not even by mistake.

  Sitting sideways, she looked at him. “She stole my fiancé.”

  He slightly angled his face toward her, while keeping an eye on the traffic. “That explains it.”

  “That explains what?”

  “You’re so angry it radiates off of you in waves. I couldn’t have closed the top even if I wanted.” The corner of his lip turned up.

  “I didn’t think it was that obvious.” She hugged herself. The wind was wreaking havoc with her flimsy shirt and the top three buttons kept opening. She saw his eyes sliding up and down her chest and she felt exposed in more ways than one.

  “If you know where to look, it is obvious you’re ready to kick someone.”

  She shivered, although she felt warm. “Are you offering yourself?”

  At the red light, he turned all the way toward her, seemed to think about it, and finally shrugged and smiled. “Maybe. If you’re a good girl.” He turned right onto Tor di Quinto road and left her thinking about his proposal for a few minutes. “There are a few places I know around here. Maybe we can grab something to eat later?”

  Ravenna made a noncommittal sound. “Hang right at the next one or we’ll miss the exit for the Tiber Golf Club.”

  He followed her direction and drove the Mercedes over a paved road that ended before the club’s entrance. The place, which had only been open for a month, had already been canvassed by the human police force. The yellow tape and sour faces were hard to ignore. As soon as Alexander stopped the car by the red line of the valet parking, an elegant man in his forties walked to meet them.

  “Ravenna Del Sarto. Homicide, special unit.” Ravenna, knowing the drill, didn’t let the man open a conversation. From her small purse she produced her human badge.

  Paranormals had to work with humans all the time, and oftentimes they worked together without the humans suspecting anything. One of their own, an immortal who worked undercover at the Tiber precinct, had found out about Margherita Salvatori and activated the Council through Samuel.

  The man, handsome and well dressed, offered her his hand in greeting, but the gesture was done by rote. The club’s door sported the sign “closed” and the sooner they reopened the better it would be for business. “Pleasure to meet you, Madam Del Sarto. Paolo Di Biasi, owner of the Tiber Club, at your service.” Then his eyes lit in recognition at Alexander. “Mister Drako, it’s such an honor to have you here. I would’ve hoped for your first visit to our establishment to be under better circumstances, but—”

  Alexander took the man’s hand and gave it a vigorous shake. “I’m sure there will be other occasions to visit, but at the moment I’m here with Miss Del Sarto.”

  Reluctantly, the man turned his attention toward Ravenna. “Sure, sure. How can I help you, madam?”

  Ravenna was starting to realize why Samuel had wanted Alexander to work on the case. The man had the key to the whole city in his hands. “May I get a look at the exact spot where the body was found?”

  “Of course. One of your colleagues is already there. Please, follow me.” Mister Di Biasi let them inside the clubhouse, asked them if they wanted coffee when they passed before the bar, which they both refused, then led them through a service door, and walked them to the pier. “The rowers found the girl over there.” He pointed at the end of the pier where a small army of policemen was standing. His cell phone rang. “I apologize, but I must take this call—”

  “We can take it from here. Thank you.” Ravenna had already seen the tall woman commanding the attention of the police, and her blood froze in her veins.

  Di Biasi excused himself one more time with Alexander and managed to give him his business card, then finally left to take his phone call. Unsure of how she would react before Malina, Ravenna almost went the man’s way as well.

  “Let’s go take the bull by the horns.” Alexander’s hand circled her upper arm and gently propelled her forward. No sneer, no taunting, just the warmth of his support.

  Her heart skipped a beat. “How do you do that?”

  Instead of answering, he squeezed her arm and stepped closer. She could feel the heat emanating from his body, and for once she regretted having a reputation of coldness to defend. More than anything, she wanted to lean on him and let him soothe her nerves.

  The pier was in need of extensive repair and the wooden boards under her shoes were full of holes and cracks. Her heels got stuck once or twice in the soft flooring and she swore under her breath. Alexander chuckled at her side.

  Malina’s head snapped to their direction and locked eyes with her. Ravenna saw Malina’s face darken, but the cloud was soon gone, replaced by an expressionless slate. The were-panther parted the policemen by simply raising one hand and strolled toward them. “Ravenna.”

  “Malina.” She took a good look at the woman who had destroyed her life, and all the memories she had caged at the back of her mind so long ago escaped from their prison. She hurt with the same pain she had once felt and had sworn she would never again experience. And here she was, looking at Malina, who was more beautiful and elegant than ever.

  “Alexander Drako.” Alexander had stepped forward and offered his hand to Malina.

  “Of course. Everybody knows who you are. Mister Drako, your face is on every tabloid on any given day of the week.” She took his hand with an all-white-teeth smile. “Malina Rotari. It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Mister Drako.”

  “Please, call me Alexander, and the pleasure is all mine, miss, I assure you.” He raised her hand to his lips for the softest of brushes. “May I call you Malina?”

  “But of course.” Malina purred like the big cat she was.

  Ravenna felt as if she had been hit in the gut. She thought she physically recoiled, although neither Alexander nor Malina seemed to have noticed, as he kept flirting with her and she kept giggling at everything he said. The hate was transformed into a different emotion she immediately ignored. “We were told to collaborate with you. Hopefully, the courtesy works both ways.”

  Malina thanked Alexander for a compliment he had just paid her about her dark eyes, gave him a last smile, then turned to talk to Ravenna. “Absolutely. I’ll share what little I’ve gathered so far. There are no witnesses and nobody saw the victim two nights ago. I’ve been combing the area since I arrived hours ago, but so far I wasn’t able to find anything that could’ve contained the Immortal Death.”

  Ravenna looked at the green-brown waters and shrugged. “Margherita drank the potion elsewhere and came here to die.”

  “My thought too. Who knows why.” Malina pointed at a cluster of reeds in the middle of the river, only a few meters from the end of the pier. “The row crew only saw her when they bumped into her arm tangled between the vegetation. All young kids, very impressionable.”

  Alexander stiffened by Ravenna’s side. A brief glance his way confirmed he was staring at the spot indicated by Malina; his eyes were a shade of dark, liquid green, and his mouth was set in a straight line. She re
ached for him and brushed the back of his right hand.

  ****

  Margherita loved the water. Last time Alexander had seen her in Paris, she had told him she would have loved to dissolve into a puddle and travel the world as a droplet. He had thought the notion whimsical and kissed her crown as they watched the sun set over Notre Dame. At Ravenna’s touch, Alexander blinked, then turned away from the river.

  “This is a waste of time. I’ll call some of the younger immortals who were at my party. I know Margherita was friends with several of them.” He had sent the invitation to Margherita as well, and she had answered with her usual noncommittal “I’ll drop by if I’m around.” He hadn’t been surprised she hadn’t showed up at the End of Summer celebration, she hadn’t for the last century or so. She either was out of town or too busy to come visit with him. He had never taken her constant rejection personally, as an immortal she was barely out of her teenaged years, and he was the only father figure she had left. He scheduled a dinner or a lunch with her every few decades to keep in touch. She had seen her last no more than five years earlier. He thought she had looked fine. He had been wrong.

  “Sounds good to me, but I’ve had my breakfast too early this morning and I need to eat something.” Malina was at his side, having outmaneuvered Ravenna by stepping before her and forcing her to move out of the way.

  Alexander noticed that Ravenna was livid, but he couldn’t enjoy the moment. He felt his head throbbing and massaged his temples. “Sure, let’s go grab a bite. It was my intention anyway. I’ll make the calls from the car.” He made a sign to Malina to lead the way, let her pass, then put a hand on Ravenna’s back. “Is that okay?”

  She had relaxed against his touch, but at his question, she gave him a stormy look. “Of course it is.”

  Malina a few steps ahead, they walked back to the valet stand in complete silence, then waited for their cars to arrive.

  “Do you have a preference?” He faced both women, who shook their heads. “Then I know a nice pizzeria a kilometer or two from here.”

  Malina nodded. “I’ll follow.”

  A few minutes later, he had called Lucius Seneca Quintilius’s nephew, Antonio, and asked him to call two or three of his friends and meet at his house three hours later. By the time he had finished talking to the young man, they were already parking in front of one of his favorite places to eat in Rome. The pizzeria was nothing more than a hole in the wall, but it sported two small tables stacked by the outer wall under the old canopy shielding the inside from the sun. Alexander had known the owner for some time and it pained him that soon he would have to disappear from Rome and leave everything he loved about the city behind, including the Pizzeria Della Lupa. It was almost time for him to leave the spotlight. Being immortal was great fun, but everlasting youth was a trait people tended to notice, especially since he had been appearing on gossip magazines for quite some time now. Good genetics and even plastic surgery could only explain so much.

  “Alexander. Long time no see. Don’t you have time for Mamma’s pizza anymore?” Mamma Bice, a chubby old woman with bright blue eyes and the most contagious smile, stood behind the counter, arms spread open to receive his embrace. “I told you all those women you frequent are bad for you. They make you forget the important things in life. Like my pizza.” She gave Ravenna and Malina a good look, then harrumphed, clearly unimpressed.

  “I apologize, Mamma Bice. You’re right. I should come here more often.” He walked behind the counter, and hugged her tight. “I missed your pizza.”

  Mamma Bice told them to sit, then ordered on their behalf without asking what they wanted. Alexander heard her whisper to her cook to add a spoon of extra virgin olive oil to their pizzas because the girls were too skinny.

  “So, you’re a regular here.” Ravenna looked around at the place as she walked back outside and sat at the plastic table. Her elegant figure made a stark contrast with the surroundings as she lowered herself on the rickety chair that was missing part of its back.

  “Best pizza in town. The secret is in Mamma’s sauce. She cooks a fresh batch every morning. But I’m afraid it will die with her since she doesn’t have kids and doesn’t want to divulge her recipe.” He waited for the ladies to be seated, then took out a folded chair, opened it and positioned between Malina and Ravenna, hoping to act as a buffer. He wanted to eat his meal in peace. Cat fights were fun in bed, but he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to appreciate the two women acting out.

  “The famous playboy has down-to-earth tastes.” Malina had been looking around too.

  With either woman, Alexander couldn’t say what their opinion of the place was, but realized he wanted to know what Ravenna thought. She kept her body angled toward the wall, shielding her face from him, and he regretted Malina was with them.

  “Celebrity status gets boring after a while.” He looked for the telltale sign of paparazzi nearby.

  “It sounds rather exciting, if you ask me.” Malina laughed.

  The were-panther was beautiful. Tall, dark hair, big dark eyes. In a way, Malina could have passed for Ravenna’s sister. They were both lithe and elegant. But where the shifter channeled her feline soul rather loudly, the enforcer radiated an aura of mystique. He had painted oils for Eloisa and Cherry, but only a pencil chiaroscuro would have caught Ravenna’s inner beauty.

  A scuff on his head and an amused chuckling at his expense made him focus on the pizzas that had just arrived.

  “Hey, lover boy, are you here to eat or stare at the wall like an idiot?” Mamma Bice accompanied the words with another slap, on his crown this time.

  Ravenna and Malina were openly laughing.

  “You did look out of it for a moment.” Ravenna adjusted the plate in front of her, took one of the paper napkins Mamma Bice had just dumped at the center of the table, and placed it on her lap. She closed her eyes and inhaled the aromas wafting up from the white ceramic dish. “This pizza smells fantastic.”

  Alexander watched as she cut the first piece with fork and knife, then brought it to her lips, and savored it with a moan. He swallowed hard, then shielded his head from the third slap Mamma Bice had already prepared for him.

  “Eat before it becomes cold.” The pizzeria’s owner gave him a wink, then looked at Ravenna, raised her eyebrows, and finally left them to tend to three children who had just walked in and wanted rosemary focaccia for lunch.

  “Well, you were right. This is the best pizza. I’ve been living in Rome for more than ten years and I’ve never been here before.” Malina had polished her plate so fast Mamma Bice had sent her another pizza right away.

  Alexander had barely touched his, too distracted by Ravenna’s slow eating, and Malina’s constant chattering. In a feast worthy of a ventriloquist, the shifter had managed to devour two full plates and never stop talking. She had told him—Ravenna had never given any sign she was listening to Malina—everything she knew about the latest scandals in the paranormal society. Finally, he had excused himself and went inside to pay, while the were-panther, after having asked him permission, had attacked his pizza too.

  When he walked back out, he noticed how Ravenna seemed tired. “I can drive you back to your place. The kids will be at my house in an hour. I have all the time to—” Although an immortal’s time of recovery was fast, the tight lines around her eyes and mouth told him she was taxing herself.

  “You can go home. There isn’t any need for the three of us to be present at the chat. As long as at least one immortal representative is present, we are fine with the council.” Although talking to Ravenna, Malina was looking at him from under her lashes, her head slightly canted. “As a Peace Pact enforcer, I must be present anyway.”

  Ravenna’s right hand was flattened on the table, while her left crumpled up her skirt under it. “I’m fine. If I can have an espresso once we arrive at your house, I’ll be grateful.” She rose on her heels, before he could stand and take her hand to help her up. “Let’s keep going. We have lot to do
today.”

  Once back in the car and driving toward his house, he was glad to have Ravenna all by himself, if even for a fleeting moment.

  ****

  Ravenna’s nerves were still frayed by having to fake indifference in Malina’s presence, but Alexander had helped her. He hadn’t done anything special to lighten her mood, but his furtive glances had made her feel special. She knew Malina would attract anyone’s attention, and despite her beauty, people still felt safe enough to approach her. When Alexander had met Malina, she had seen him evaluating her, and her stomach had cramped at the notion he would want to spend time with a woman like her, sunny, available, uncomplicated, as he was.

  When Malina had suggested she could go with Alexander to his house, Ravenna’s first thought was about his playroom. Next, she saw Malina and him spending time there. The intensity of the sentiment that took hold of her at that mental image had left her breathless. She didn’t want Malina anywhere near him. She felt possessive about a man she had just met and that didn’t happen to Ravenna Del Sarto the enforcer. Possessiveness and jealousy happened to lesser women. Women who were insecure. Women who needed men to feel whole.

  She had a furious headache and wasn’t looking forward to spending a whole day on her feet, but she was rewarded by one of those sincere smiles from Alexander and she realized she wanted him to lean by her side and kiss her. The thought had come unbidden and left her flustered.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” He drove unhurriedly. The top was still down and warm sunrays bathed him in a golden light, accentuating the green in his eyes and the freckles on his skin.

 

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