King of the Wicked (The Banished Series Book 1)

by T. R. Hamby

  God. Why?

  Her purse was nearby. He fished around and found her wallet: five euro and her passport. Angelica Fernando, from Milan. He fished around again, and found her cell phone. He dialed 113, and then set her things down, standing up. The police would be here soon.

  He looked at her one last time. Part of him wanted to cradle her, even though she was gone now. He had to remember that she was in Heaven, that she was happy now. No more pain. No more fear. No more sickness.

  He left the way the man had gone. He knew it was the Angel, and he felt a burst of fury for losing him. It was the same pattern--an abandoned building, a fatal injury that would require inhuman strength, leaving the body.

  But now he had new clues. The Angel had killed again at Castagna--this suggested familiarity.

  And his name was definitely Alessandro.

  Mel

  “So the first two victims had nothing on them,” Mel said, pacing around the living room, “but the last two knew Ariel somehow.”

  “And they knew him as Alessandro,” Michael replied, nodding.

  They were at Mel’s apartment. It was early morning--Mel had just come back from dropping Nora off at rehearsal. Neither of them mentioned their fight, and Mel was grateful.

  “They were sex workers, right?” he asked, folding his arms.

  “Yes.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe he was a client.”

  “Right,” Michael replied, nodding. “I’m going back to Castagna tonight--ask the girls there if they’ve seen him.”

  “That’s probably better.”

  He frowned, standing awkwardly by the kitchen counter. “What do you mean?”

  Mel hesitated, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Nora suggested using this--this web thing to find him.”

  “Nora?” Michael asked, before realization appeared on his face. “The--your--you’re involving her?”

  “No,” he replied firmly. “No--she just--wanted to help with research.”

  “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

  “No, but I’m about to,” he hissed, glaring at him. “Forget I said anything.”

  Michael didn’t look like he wanted to end this conversation. His jaw was tight, and Mel could hear him grinding his teeth together.

  He took a deep breath and sighed, folding his arms. “What web thing.”

  Mel reluctantly explained, repeating what Nora had told him.

  Michael was intrigued despite himself. “That’s strange that I’ve never heard of it.”

  “I was going to install the software today,” Mel said, shrugging. “It might...be worth something, if the girls don’t tell you anything.”

  Michael nodded, appearing lost in thought. “It’s better than nothing. Faster than Google.”

  He finally looked at Mel, raising an eyebrow. “You’re going to let her help?”

  Mel sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly,” he said, “I don’t think either of us have a choice. He’s escaped us for months now. We need the help.”

  He nodded again. “She’s your responsibility.”

  “She’s not a dog,” Mel said, annoyed.

  “Call me if you find anything,” he said, before vanishing.

  Mel rolled his eyes--although he was secretly happy things were back to normal between them. That fight had been...emotional. Just thinking about it made him cringe.

  He started the process of connecting to the Dark Web on his laptop. While he waited for updates and downloads and restarts to finish, he sat and thought, thinking hard about Nora. Things were going to be different this time. They were going to be together, and he had to be sure things would be okay--that Nora would be safe. Protected. He would be Regenerating soon. He needed to know she would be okay without him.

  He fished his phone out of his pocket and called his attorney--his “main” attorney, for lack of a better term, Claire Jansen. She was based all the way in London, and had been his attorney for close to twenty years now. Her father before her had also worked for him. Both of them knew his true nature, and had been helpful in securing birth certificates, visas, wills--most of anything, for a handsome price.

  “It’s been a while,” Claire greeted, in the sort of serious tone she always had. “Everything all right?”

  “Everything’s great,” Mel replied, smiling. “How are you?”

  “Same as ever. I got that necklace you sent me for my birthday. Thank you; it’s beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “How can I help you, Mel?”

  He shifted, trying to find the right words. “I met someone,” he said slowly.

  Claire knew right away what he meant. “Really? Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And you want to discuss marriage? A prenup?”

  He hesitated. “The thing is, neither of us are really...sold on the marriage thing. But I want her to have access to everything...my money, mainly.”

  “Well...there’s always joint bank accounts,” Claire suggested.

  “What about my other assets?”

  “Well, Mel, I hate to say it, but the easiest way to tie it all up is to get married,” she said gently. “You can share assets jointly, money jointly. Is she an Italian citizen? If she’s not, marriage would work that out as well.”

  He hadn’t even thought about that. “Shit.”

  “Why everything you own?” Claire asked curiously. “You have enough money to take care of her.”

  Mel hesitated again. He didn’t want to mention that there was a killer Angel on the loose, who could--if he was strong enough--injure or even kill Mel, when they finally found him. He didn’t want Nora to be left with nothing if that happened.

  Then there was the fact that he would be Regenerating soon. He wanted her to be protected while he was gone, and money wasn’t enough to satisfy him. It was everything or nothing.

  “Here’s what I recommend,” Claire said, “we can rewrite your will so that she is included in it. We can keep your brother in it if you want; it’s up to you. Meanwhile--and just give this some thought--you can marry her, and I’ll work on merging your assets. You call and let me know.”

  Mel reluctantly agreed, and ended the call. He stared at his laptop for a while, which was still restarting, a frown on his face. He had never told Michael that he was the beneficiary to all his things, should something happen to him. Mel had never been able to think of anyone else to inherit from him, except when he had been married before.

  But now things were different. Nora’s needs were more important. She would get everything. Mel didn’t think it would make a difference to Michael, considering the fact that he had his own boatload of money.

  But about the marriage thing…

  He wasn’t a fan, but Nora especially disliked it. He had a feeling it had mostly to do with her sister’s treatment of her, always touting how much of a failure she was for being unmarried and childless. And she was so independent; she didn’t even want to move in with him.

  But Claire was right. It was the simplest way to keep Nora safe. All he had to do now was...propose.

  He fished a notepad from the desk and started writing in it. Then, when the software was finally up and running, he browsed through the Dark Web, transferring a large amount of Bitcoin to a site that could help him find Alessandro.

  Around lunchtime Nora arrived, having finished rehearsal early. She was bearing bags of food, looking radiant. He knew it was because she was happy, and this gave him a thrill. She loved him--she really loved him.

  She dropped the bags on the counter and kissed him, and he picked her up and spun her around, making her shriek.

  “I missed you,” he moaned, kissing her neck, and she sighed, leaning against him.

  “This is so nice,” she replied. “I could come home to you every day.”

  “You could, if you lived with me,” he said, and she rolled her eyes at him, making him chuckle, albeit it a little nervously. “I could work from home,
keep the place clean, cook you breakfast and dinner? Pack your lunch?”

  She laughed. “You would do that for me, wouldn’t you?”

  “Well, maybe not the work from home part,” he admitted, taking her hand. “Let me show you something. I’ve been busy.”

  They went through the bedroom and into the closet, which was like a whole other room. Nora ran her hand down one line of Mel’s shirts while he went to the safe, which was built into the wall. She watched as he entered the code in the keypad.

  “14, 23, 3,” he said, looking at her. “I wrote everything down for you.”

  She frowned. “What’s the significance?”

  “The amount of lines in The Divine Comedy,” he said, swinging open the safe. It was about three feet wide, and five feet high. If she had been a couple inches shorter, Nora could have stood inside comfortably.

  “Oh my god, Mel; that is so cliche,” she laughed, but she stopped short when she saw the inside of the safe. Mel watched as she stepped closer, staring at the sparkling necklaces and rings on the right side of the shelves.

  “My collection,” he said with a smirk.

  She shook her head in amazement. “Did you make all these?”

  “Most of them. But this side is more important,” he said, pointing to the left, which housed a large number of folders and books.

  He reached to the top shelf, taking out a much smaller safe.

  He looked at Nora. “1842,” he said, punching in the numbers on the keypad. “My oldest birth certificate.”

  She nodded, and he could tell she was trying to commit all the codes to memory.

  He loved her for that.

  He opened the little safe, and together they looked inside.

  “This book here has my contacts,” he said quietly. “Lawyers, investors, bankers. People who know what I truly am.”

  “You trust them to know that?” Nora breathed, suddenly looking worried.

  “I’ve known them for years,” Mel explained. “Some since their childhood. Helped them out of trouble. They’re loyal.”

  She hesitated, but nodded. “Okay.”

  He selected a much smaller book. “This one lists all of my bank accounts,” he said. “Legal and...not legal. But it’s in code, so you can’t read it. The key to the code is in a safe in my house in Romania. The code to that safe is Tipo 8.”

  “What’s that?”

  “My first car,” he said with a smirk, and she rolled her eyes, muttering “men” under her breath.

  He hesitated. Nora noticed and frowned, her brown eyes dark in the dim lighting.

  “What is it?”

  He sighed and took her hand. “I think we should get married.”

  She raised an incredulous eyebrow.

  “I called my lawyer today,” he explained, “my lawyer in London--Claire. I was trying to see if there was any way you could have access to my things--my money, my assets--”

  “I don’t need your money,” she said insistently. It was his turn to raise an eyebrow, and she sighed, deflated. “Fine, I guess I do.”

  “So,” he continued, “I did try--to find another way. But the simplest way, really, is to get married. You’ll have access to everything when I Regenerate. You won’t need a visa anymore. And if anything happens to me--”

  “Don’t say that--”

  “If anything happens to me, you’ll be safe.”

  She was quiet for a moment, frowning at their hands clasped together.

  Finally she sighed. “You’re right. We can’t avoid it.”

  Relief washed over him, and he squeezed her hand. “It’s just a piece of paper. No wedding, no fanfare. No one has to know.”

  She nodded. Her lips twitched into a smile. “God, imagine if my sister found out. She’d throw a fit.”

  “So no wedding invitations, then?”

  She laughed and smacked his arm.

  He closed up the safe, and they left the closet, holding hands. Mel was nervous again...there was just one more thing, and he knew she wouldn’t like this either.

  She caught his expression and sighed. “What now?”

  “Just hear me out,” he said, sitting with her at the table. “I own this building--”

  “Mel!” she exclaimed, looking scandalized. “You own this building and you’re living in a little one bedroom apartment?”

  He gave her a look. “I told you I don’t need the space. Now listen, chatterbox. I own the building, and when we get married, you’ll own it too. So…”

  She caught on quickly, and nodded slowly. “So I could live here, in one of the apartments.”

  She thought for a long moment, drumming her fingers on the table. Mel waited anxiously; this was something, in his eyes, that was almost more important than getting married. He needed her to be in a safer area...and, preferably, much closer to him.

  She finally sighed, and looked at him. “Okay. My place, though. My rules. You can’t waltz in, you can’t move in, you can’t change anything--”

  “Not a thing,” Mel replied, his relief turning into excitement, “absolutely nothing--”

  She climbed into his lap, grinning, and kissed him. He held her, tangling a hand into her hair, kissing her and feeling so relieved and happy. She would be safe, protected, and living close enough that he could come to her at a moment’s notice.

  They spent the rest of the evening on their laptops, tediously examining Alessandro after Alessandro, searching for anyone whose bank statements only stretched back a few years--long enough for an Angel to have been hiding on Earth.

  Then night came, and they decided to go to bed--Nora had to get up early in the morning.

  Mel couldn’t help but sneak glances at her. She was beautiful, even in just a tank top and sweatpants. She had thrown her hair into a ponytail, and a few curls had escaped, tickling her neck. He came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist, and she beamed, leaning against him.

  “I love you,” he said, kissing her temple.

  She let out a little sigh. “I love you too, Mel.”

  They went to bed. She curled up against him, laying her head on his chest, and Mel held her. He didn’t think he would ever get used to this--how wonderful it was to have her there, in his arms. All this time he had thought he could never love again, and here he was now, with her.

  She sighed, squeezing his waist. “This is so much better than I imagined it would be.”

  He smiled. “Did you ever think you would fall in love one day?”

  There was thoughtfulness in her voice. “No, I don’t think so,” she replied softly. “Or at least, not to the point of wanting to be with someone forever.”

  He couldn’t help but smile, hearing her words. She truly wanted to be with him forever. He was lucky, luckier than he had been in so long. They were happy.

  She was quiet for a moment. Then she murmured, “I never thought I would actually get married.”

  He brushed at her back again, soothing. “Don’t think of it like that,” he said. “Like I said, it’s just a piece of paper. It doesn’t change us.”

  “You’re not going to start calling me wifey, are you?” she moaned, and he laughed.

  “Only to annoy you.”

  She giggled. “You would. Hubby.”

  “Oh, god,” he groaned, rolling his eyes at the word. “Truce.”

  This time she laughed, and she lifted her head and kissed him.

  He smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. He knew she didn’t like it--he wasn’t crazy about it either--but he was glad she was going to be safe, legally. It would be one less thing to worry about when he Regenerated.

  And that would happen soon.

  On Saturday afternoon they drove to the courthouse. Nora was antsy, tapping her foot as they waited in the lobby. Mel was nervous too; he didn’t want her to suddenly change her mind. But she didn’t, and after the paperwork was signed, they went out to get something to eat.

  “You did great,” he joked, reaching across the tabl
e to sample some of her gelato.

  She rolled her eyes. “I guess I did. I thought for a second about running away, but then I decided not to.”

  She laughed at the look on his face. “Kidding.”

  He smirked. “This was a mistake,” he shot back. “You’re clearly too immature for marriage.”

  “That’s rich, coming from you.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve been married at least twenty times.”

  They kept up the banter all the way home. Then they got to work, pulling up the Dark Web on their laptops and hunting for Alessandro.

  But by late afternoon they had still found nothing, and Mel, in his weakening body, was starting to get a headache.

  He frowned as he felt Michael’s Presence nearby. He straightened, looking around at Nora.

  “My brother’s coming.”

  “He is?” she said, looking wary.

  He stood, and she followed his lead. It took a minute before Michael materialized in the living room, looking awkward.

  Nora gasped a little--it was her first time seeing an Angel Travel.

  Michael glanced at her, frowning, and she gazed back. She lifted her chin, appraising him coldly, and Mel couldn’t help but smile.

  Michael looked at him. “Nothing yet,” he said, looking frustrated. “They’re too scared to talk.”

  Mel frowned, annoyed. It would have been easier to get a lead from someone who had seen Alessandro rather than poring over Alessandros on the internet--even with their connections on the Dark Web.

  He sighed. “Can’t blame them.”

  “No,” Michael replied, folding his arms and looking out the window. “They know him, though. I can see it.”

  They were quiet for a moment.

  “Maybe…” Nora said, and Michael frowned at her, “if a woman asked them instead--”

  “No,” Mel instantly growled, and she sighed.

  “Do you want to catch this guy or not, Mel?”

  “I’m not putting you in danger,” he said firmly. “And if you love me, you’ll stay away from it.”

  She looked a little pained, and she grasped his hand, squeezing. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Michael watching the exchange, his brow furrowed.