The Immortal Greek

by Monica La Porta

  ****

  Ravenna woke with Alexander’s arms laid around her waist, his head nestled on her shoulder. She moved in the bed, trying not to disturb his sleep, and sat up to get a better look at him. He looked like an angel, his long lashes fluttering as he dreamed and smiled. She studied the tribal tattoo on his back and the band on his arm, and wondered about the story behind the massive ink, refraining from brushing the patterns with her fingertips. The warm rays of mid-morning sun bathed both of them, and she raised her right hand before her to see if she had changed as much as she felt she had. He had marked her with his own brand of love and she had treasured every moment of it. He was a demanding yet tender lover, and her body tingled at the memory of how he had taken her first in the studio, then on the stairs, and finally in his bedroom.

  In the heat of passion, she had screamed his name, scratched, and even bit him and she hadn’t cared. She couldn’t remember if she had ever felt that way before. No man had ever unlocked that side of her. Her newly acquired wildness scared her. It was the opposite of who she thought she was. She lived in a world she controlled, not at the mercy of a man’s whim. Alexander Drako was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, and he had turned out to be compassionate and caring, but he was still the Alexander Drako who had bacchanalias celebrated in his house. And the playroom… How could she have forgotten about the playroom?

  What would happen when she bored him? He would go on gallivanting as if nothing had happened, and she would be left nursing the heartbreak of all heartbreaks. Because he would tire of plain Ravenna. Yes, she had shown him—and herself—an unrestrained side of herself, but she wasn’t like the women he was normally seen with. He would seek the thrills of a more adventurous woman, and Ravenna would forever think of the nights they had shared. Because Ravenna was absolutely sure of one thing: she was in love with him. Head over heels in love. And it hurt her already to think of him kissing someone else. But it was in his nature and she did not share.

  The memory of Malina in Livio’s arms intruded into her thoughts and left her breathless as if someone had punched her in the stomach. She felt the urge to flee and had to act upon it or she would have screamed. A moment later, she had gathered her clothes and hastily donned them. Heels dangling from her right hand, she gave Alexander one last look and ran away from him.

  She had almost reached her home when she noticed the blinking numbers on her cell phone. Malina had called several times and left one message.

  “Ravenna, I must see you as soon as possible. Call me.”

  They had left each other the night before on relatively good terms, considering their past, and Malina had confided that she would talk with one of her informants early the next morning. She didn’t specify what race her informer belonged to, and Ravenna hadn’t probed. Informers usually came from the renegade fringes and preferred to remain invisible as far as the Council was concerned. And Ravenna represented the face of the Council in the paranormal community. In fact, she had never had the pleasure to work with informers. They were usually too scared of her.

  “Malina?”

  “Ravenna.” Malina sounded breathless. The noises associated with the commute traffic overpowered her voice. Honking, swearing, and the sound of hard braking almost drowned out her words. “Where are you?”

  “Almost home. Where are you?” She drove her Audi to a stop before her house, parking between the two cars of the men who were there to protect her.

  “Outside Caffè Greco. Can you get here?”

  “Yeah, sure. Give me a moment, and I’ll hop back in the car.” She had already opened the door to her house.

  “Take a cab or, better yet, the Metro. There’re three political rallies blocking all the roads from Via Veneto to the Spanish steps.”

  “Okay.” Ravenna wondered what Malina was doing there in the first place, but the were-panther hung up before she could ask. She was in and out of the shower in less than ten minutes, combed her hair, then picked out a fresh shirt and skirt, and left the house.

  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.

  Chapter Eight

  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.”