The Immortal Greek

by Monica La Porta

  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.”

  Alexander repressed a chuckle. “Don’t worry, Martina. He likes to be beaten by pretty ladies.”

  The woman became beet red, but smiled encouragingly at Samuel. Alexander had never understood why the angel had chosen to appear as a cripple to the humans. The man Martina was reluctantly taking to the ring couldn’t walk without a cane and looked rather sickly.

  “Samuel?” Alexander called to him from the door, his hand on the handle. “Close the gym for me, would you?”

  “Sure thing.” Enthralled by Martina, Samuel didn’t turn, but feinted to the right to avoid being hit by her roundhouse kick.

  Alexander entered his car with the intention of driving straight home to have a shower, but halfway through, he turned around and took the fastest route to the Appian Way. He looked disheveled and needed a strong painkiller, but he had to see Ravenna first. The afternoon commuters had already filled the roads, and by the time he arrived at her house, his longing for her had overwhelmed his senses.

  Relieved to see the cars Samuel had asked for were already parked before Ravenna’s, he checked if her R8 was nearby. When he located it under the eucalyptus tree that must be her favorite spot, he strode to the entry of her house, taking the steps two at a time. His heart was beating fast and he had to stop at the door and calm himself. He rang the bell with a shaking hand, then passed it over his jaw and discovered he was in need of a good shave. Ravenna took her time to answer the door, and it added to his anxiousness. Finally, he saw movement from behind the window and rehearsed what he wanted to say. A split moment before the door opened, he decided to forgo words and kiss her senseless instead.

  The door inched open. “Yes? What can I do for you?” A man’s head pe
eked from behind the door.

  Alexander stared at the man, unable to speak.

  “Is everything all right out there?” The man’s eyes went to the detailing cars. “May I offer you anything? A cup of coffee? Water?”

  Alexander blinked. “No… thank you.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for keeping my fiancé safe.” The man smiled warmly. “I’m Karl by the way.”

  Alexander’s heart broke into a million pieces. He mumbled his first name.

  Karl, Ravenna’s fiancé, tilted his head and looked at him with interest. “Your face looks so familiar.” A timer went off inside of the house, and he turned back for a moment. “I’m sorry, but I must check on the lasagna.” He pointed a finger to behind the door.

  Alexander felt dazed. “I only wanted to be sure everything was okay.”

  Karl waved his hand and started closing the door, already heading toward the kitchen. Only then Alexander realized why the man had kept behind the door the whole time. Karl was only wearing an apron. Ravenna’s fiancé was cooking for her in the nude.

  Alexander was shocked to discover Ravenna was officially promised to another man, and for a moment he couldn’t understand his own feelings. Then he saw her, looking at him, her eyes wide, her hand on the passenger’s door of a car that had just come to a halt before her house, and he felt pain tearing his heart apart.

  ****

  Ravenna saw the scene unfold, panic rising in her chest. Alexander was talking to Karl. Karl, her ex fiancé, who still had the keys to her house. She tried to move from the car, but her legs were made of lead, and her heart had stopped beating the moment her eyes had locked with Alexander’s.

  He descended the stairs with a slow gait, never lowering his eyes, then he stopped before her, and stood as still and silent as a statue.

  “Alexander, I can explain—”

  A cold smile appeared on his face. “Miss Del Sarto, it was great fun last night. Hopefully, you and your fiancé will consider attending my next bacchanalia. I’m sure you’ll both enjoy the entertainment offered.” He bowed his head and turned.

  Ravenna stepped forward with the intent of following him, but he entered his car and left before she could stop him. She watched as his Mercedes disappeared behind the corner of her house, and a tear rolled down her face. Heavy-hearted, she took the stairs and entered her house.

  “Ravenna, you’re home.” Karl welcomed her with open arms and nothing else, besides one of her aprons.

  “You must leave at once.” She didn’t want to argue with him.

  Karl adjusted the apron to cover himself better. “But, Ravenna, give me a chance. You were tired the other day and didn’t think it through. We’ve been together for so long—”

  She put her keys on the bowl at the entry, removed her shoes, and walked past him. “Leave the keys.”

  Alexander, usually joyous and carefree, had looked at her with such contempt, she felt as if he had slapped her. She had wanted to say she had just come back from his house, but Alexander had frozen her with his demeanor. She blinked and realized Karl hadn’t left. He was hovering behind her. She walked back to him. “Karl, there’s nothing left between us. I cared for you, but not anymore.” She had never loved him. In fact, she had never understood what love was before falling for Alexander.

  “I—” Karl raised one hand as if to caress her face, but left it in midair, then passed it through his hair. “I thought we could fix this.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  Karl lowered his eyes to his ensemble and repressed a nervous laugh. “Give me a moment.”

  “Sure.” She left him in the hallway and went straight to her room, where she found a blanket of rose petals covering her bed. She wasn’t surprised to find candles in the bathroom. She felt the first warning signs of an incoming migraine and welcomed it. Physical pain gave her something to focus on and she hoped for a pounding headache.

  “Do you mind?” Karl was at the door, pointing at the pile of his clothes sitting on one of the chairs.

  “Go ahead.” She went inside the bathroom and closed the door. Finally, she heard his receding steps, then the main door was opened and closed. She waited a moment, then sat on the edge of the tub and let out all the tears she had been reining in. Memories of the previous night mixed with the present. Alexander’s kisses and caresses were replaced by his emotionless stare.

  Ravenna left the bathroom looking for a place where she could curl up and let her sorrow ride its course, but gave a quick glance at her bed and moved outside. In the kitchen, another of Karl’s disastrous attempts at cooking had left food and utensils scattered on every surface. Her house had been marked by Karl in every possible way and she couldn’t stay there. She had to leave. She had to talk to Alexander.

  Decision made, she felt better already. She would drive back to his house, and she would make him listen to what she had to say. If she hurried, speeding a little through Rome, she would make it to Piazza Coppedè slightly after him. Driving would do her good. With a lighter heart, she walked to the entry, looking for the shoes she had hastily removed upon entering with the intention of strangling Karl.

  The doorbell chimed its four notes and Ravenna’s heart stopped beating once again. “Alexander—”

  Raul appeared as she opened the door. “Miss Del Sarto, I was wondering if I could use your phone. My cell just died.”

  Ravenna’s disappointment was impossible to hide and she didn’t have the strength to try.

  Raul, licorice stick hanging from his lips, gave her a good look and took a step backward. “I could come back later—”

  She belatedly remembered her manners and stepped by the side to let him in. “No, please. I’m heading out. The phone is there.” She showed him where the land phone was.

  Raul followed her inside. “I’ll be brief.”

  Ravenna stepped inside the kitchen and turned on her cell to call Alexander. Her call went straight to the voicemail. She didn’t hear Raul talk and turned to see what the problem was. A hand covered her mouth, while the now-familiar prick of a needle tingled on the side of her throat. Darkness engulfed her before despair did.

  ****

  Alexander had driven away from Ravenna’s house blinded by rage. Blood drumming against his ears, he had pushed his Mercedes to its limits and reached the castle of Santa Severa in less than twenty minutes. He had just taken the trail bordering the medieval walls of the castle and leading down the beach, when his cell phone rang. He saw it was Ravenna and ignored her call. He couldn’t talk to her while he was still shaking. He knew he would have to confront her sooner or later; they were working on a case, but not now.

  When he had walked to her, he had been disgusted by his reaction to her proximity. Despite the rage and the hurt, he still had wanted to cradle her in his arms and forget everything else. If he talked to her now, he would fall for whatever lies she told him.

  So he had decided to go for a midnight swim. He took the trail, and instead of carefully walking toward the beach, he ran and, fully clothed, dove in from one of the cliffs protruding from the castle. He risked breaking his neck in the shallow natural pool, but safely entered the waters and reemerged a moment later. The sea was cold and it helped clarify his thoughts. He swam for a while, the moon almost full, illuminating everything with a silvery glow.

  When he finally came out of the water, his pain had become a physical presence, a slash that cut him deep inside from his heart to his stomach. He could barely breathe and a burning stone pressed on his sternum. His stomach tossed and turned, and the rest of his insides had shrunk to nothing. His legs and arms were numb. His fingers and toes cold.

  Not even when Eloisa had died had he felt a sense of loss so strong. Cherry’s departure from the world had been a relief. In her fifties, she had contracted a disease and her life had become miserable. In the end, he had wished for her sufferance to lessen and death had mercifully come to take her. He had loved them dearly and yet had never f
elt a hurt so unbearable. He wished he had never met Ravenna. He wished she were there, making love to him.

  He screamed at the moon, cursed and swore, then fell on the sand, his forehead pressed down as he tried to calm his frayed nerves and overtaxed heart. The drive back was even faster. He reached home, his adrenaline pumping. Once in his bedroom, everything smelled of Ravenna. He yanked the sheets off the bed, then ran downstairs to the laundry room and washed them. Still not exhausted enough to finally fall asleep and get a respite from all his madness, he loaded a laundry basket with the sheets and ran upstairs to the terrace, where he hung the clothes on the clothesline.

  Loud ringing awoke Alexander the next morning. He had fallen asleep on the loveseat in his bedroom.

  “Good morning, Alexander.” Marta walked in and took in the scene he presented. She smiled. “I’ll ring for a double espresso. Anything to eat?”

  He felt the sand on his tongue and the headache that made him see two Martas. “Something greasy, please.”

  “Tough night, ah?” Marta had seen him at his worst, but the funny thing was, he didn’t black out usually.

  Alexander couldn’t remember when he had gone to the cellar, but the two empty bottles of Crystal on the coffee table confirmed he had, at some point, done that.

  “I see that you’ve also been busy doing laundry. I didn’t even know you could.” The maid chuckled, then pointed a finger at the phone that meanwhile had stopped ringing and restarted once again. “I think someone wants to talk to you. Should I get the call in your stead?”

  Alexander nodded.

  Marta raised the phone and answered the call, then mouthed to him if he wanted to talk.

  “Man or woman?” He nursed his headache, caressing his temples.

  Marta whispered, “Man.”

  Two fingers pinching the arch of his nose, Alexander used his left hand to make a come hither gesture for Marta to pass him the phone. “Thank you, Marta.” He took it from her and brought the handset to his right ear. “Who is it?”

  “Alexander, it’s Samuel.” A long pause followed the angel’s statement.

  “What is it?” A rampaging migraine impaired Alexander’s faculties, but he focused on the present at the best of his capabilities.