Souls Entwined

by Anne B. Cole

  She giggled and shook her head. “Anya protect Enzo.”

  Lorenzo laughed at his current condition then became serious. “In three weeks, I will leave with Peter to go back to the navy.”

  Anya’s face wrinkled. “Navy?” She glanced around the ship.

  “No, this is not my navy ship.” Lorenzo struggled to explain. “I will go to my navy ship and then come back in January.” He pointed to her than to himself. “In January, you can come with me to America.”

  Anya’s gaze fell to her hand within his. “Mama, Yia Yia.” She sighed, leaning against the side of the ship.

  “Tatiana and Katarina can come to America,” Lorenzo encouraged.

  “No, America.” She shook her head in frustration. “Enzo go navy. Anya no Milos.”

  Lorenzo’s mouth dropped, staring at her in horror. “Where will you be?”

  Anya pressed her lips firmly together. “I go. I want.” She touched his shirt collar.

  “You want my shirt?”

  Anya nodded tentatively, then dropped her hands to his shirt buttons.

  Confused, Lorenzo unbuttoned. “Where will you be? Greece? Italy?”

  Anya’s eyes grew wider as the last buttons were unfastened. Lorenzo struggled out of the sleeves. She carefully folded it before placing it on the deck.

  “Anya, I must find you when I return. Where do you go?”

  “I want.” Anya’s cool fingers touched his bare chest. “Enzo. I want Enzo.”

  Lorenzo sighed, pulling her to his side. “I want you, too. God knows how much I want you.” She eased out of his arms and began to unfasten her dress. Lorenzo swallowed hard as several buttons became undone. “No, Anya.”

  “I want.”

  “I want, too, but in America.” He exhaled slowly, feeling his cheeks redden. “I’m already regretting this. In America, we court first and ‘want’ next.” Anya’s eyes lowered so quickly he didn’t know if she was hurt, embarrassed, or even understood his words. “I want, too. But we need to first,” Lorenzo saw confusion in her eyes turn to determination.

  Anya gently placed a finger over his lips. “No talk.”

  She leaned close. Their lips met. It was tender and sweet, but he felt her yearning for more. Lorenzo sighed. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her again. Their lips melded together as his fingers tangled into her hair. Her cool hand found his scruffy face then lowered to his chest.

  “That’s it,” she whispered, pulling away.

  “No talk,” he nuzzled closer, trailing his lips down her neck.

  “Yes, talk.”

  As she began to speak fluent English, he opened his eyes. “Anya?”

  Chapter 11

  The PIT

  “Sam.” Gretta shook him by the shoulders, then studied his unfocused eyes. She touched his cheek. It was so warm compared to her fingers, yet smooth, not scratchy like Lorenzo’s. “You okay?”

  Sam blinked several times. “Yeah. Sorry. Bad timing.”

  “I thought you were leaving. I—I had to stop you,” Gretta stammered, heat rising past her cheeks.

  “You didn’t understand English?” Sam appeared concerned.

  “No, not well at least.” Gretta puzzled over her inability to understand her own language. She watched Sam rub his head and then touch his left shoulder. Lorenzo’s injuries didn’t carry over to Sam.

  “Lorenzo was trying to tell Anya he would come back for her.” Chestnut eyes met hers.

  Gretta resisted the urge to fall back into his arms and pick up where Anya and Lorenzo left off. “Anya understood that. She wants to go to America. It was me. I didn’t want you to leave me for that long. I encouraged Anya to . . .”

  “You encouraged her to . . .?” His grin was adorable, yet she wanted to smack it right off.

  “I had to do something to keep you in Milos. You were going to leave me.”

  “I would never leave you,” Sam stated quietly, then turned away.

  Surprised at his words, Gretta softened. “Lorenzo was going to leave.” She took a moment to look around. They stood in a wooded park, one she had never been to before. A bench situated between two spruce trees appeared to capture Sam’s attention. A couple stood a few yards away, feeding pigeons. But once again, everything stood stone still.

  “Central Park.” Sam’s New York accent rang clear. Somehow they returned to New York City instead of Virginia. “You controlled Anya?” Sam’s tone turned serious.

  “I wouldn’t say ‘control,’ but I guided her.” Gretta was going to explain more, but the corners of Sam’s lips crept up. “I thought you were leaving.”

  “You had me take my shirt off,” Sam interrupted playfully.

  “Lorenzo took his own shirt off. Anya wanted . . . never mind.” Gretta pursed her lips together, trying to keep from embarrassing herself further. His expression softened from victorious teasing to a genuine curiosity.

  “Okay. That was a misunderstanding. How else did you guide her?”

  Memories scattered through her mind. There were many times she influenced Anya, but one stood out in particular. “This morning, Peter told Anya that Lorenzo was returning to the navy. I helped her tie his bandage so tight that Lorenzo would realize she was not happy with his decision.”

  “It worked. When the circulation returned, it hurt like crazy.” He opened and closed his hand, then grinned.

  Gretta gasped, looking at his shoulder in horror. “You felt pain?” Her eyes fell to her sneakers. The warm touch of his fingers under her chin lifted her face to his.

  “I’m okay, Lorenzo was—”

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  “We’re back. It’s over.”

  “The infection. You nearly died.” She tried to look down, but he held her face with rough, calloused hands, so much like Lorenzo’s. She closed her eyes to avoid him. Gretta felt arms wrap around her. Heat radiated from him, warming her frigid skin.

  “I got rid of the ring.” Sam brushed hair tenderly away from her cheek.

  “What?” Gretta’s head snapped up. “How? I searched for days.”

  “I found the ring and gave it away. Anya will not get it, and neither will you.”

  She watched him study her. He seemed torn, confused. Gretta felt his hands move to her back. He was pulling her close but, at the same time, holding her at a distance. She knew what she wanted, and with a newly found boldness, she pressed against him, tilting her face toward his.

  “The ring is right there, you fool,” a gruff voice bellowed. Sam shielded Gretta as they spun around and faced Roxana and a shorter, older woman whom they immediately recognized.

  “Katarina, always a pleasure,” Sam declared with a touch of sarcasm.

  “This is the boy? You said he was bright.” Katarina spoke directly to Roxana, yet loud enough to be certain Sam heard.

  “He has potential,” Roxana replied. “Sam, Gretta, this is Katarina, Anya’s maternal grandmother.”

  “Hello.” Gretta’s smile instantly faded as Katarina scowled. Her hand somehow found Sam’s. He felt so incredibly warm and reassuring.

  “The boy is dense. The ring is on the girl’s finger.” Katarina pointed.

  Gretta felt the band with her thumb, adjusting the stone to rest under her knuckle.

  “How is that possible?” Sam lifted her hand to see the ring.

  Roxana stepped toward Sam. “The past cannot be changed.” For a moment, Gretta thought Roxana appeared worried. “Influenced perhaps, but not changed. Sam is going to tell us about the ring and his time spent with Lorenzo. Gretta, anything you can add will be helpful.” Both Roxana and Katarina focused on Sam.

  “When did you have it?” Gretta demanded, upset she had nothing to relay.

  “Quiet. He ne
eds to start from the beginning,” Katarina snapped.

  “Katarina is correct,” Roxana added tenderly. “The smallest, slightest thing could be the key to help us break the curse. Sam, please begin.”

  Gretta silently fumed, pulling her hand away from Sam. Together they sat on the park bench.

  Sam explained how he awoke on the pirate ship and continued with Peter’s explanation of Lorenzo’s abduction. After Sam’s recount of how it took twenty pirates to capture Lorenzo, Roxana interrupted.

  “Sam, I was a child when Lorenzo told me of his travels. I recall ten pirates, not twenty.” She smiled despite the exaggeration.

  “Details, boy. We don’t care about heroics. Tell us about the others, the pirate captain. What about him?” Katarina pressed in her harshest voice yet.

  Sam continued describing Lubber, Old Benny, Peter, and Jozef in great detail. The deep wrinkles in Katarina’s forehead softened a bit when Sam portrayed her son favorably.

  “The black book, did Lorenzo possess it?” Roxana questioned.

  “No. Peter kept it. I don’t think Lorenzo wanted more treasure.”

  “More treasure?” Gretta repeated. Katarina rolled her eyes.

  “My apologies. We must allow Sam to tell us everything without further interruption. Continue please.” Roxana smoothed her already perfect dress.

  In spite of Katarina’s distain for Sam, he took care to describe Jozef’s final moments as courageous. He relayed how Jozef stated the clues to the treasure and the location of the gun, which saved Lorenzo and Peter’s lives. Gretta found Sam’s hand within hers. She went to pull back, but he held firm.

  “Jozef was smart, always thinking of others, especially his family,” Sam said, with his eyes trained upon Katarina.

  “Where did Jozef acquire the book?” Katarina asked, with less of an edge to her voice than before.

  “He said that he took it from the pirate captain, Lubber. I don’t know how it came into his possession, though,” Sam mused.

  “What were his colors?” Roxana asked.

  “Lubber’s? He had dark features, black hair and eyes. His skin was dark, but I don’t think he was African, perhaps Turkish or Middle Eastern.”

  “The flag on the ship. What did the flag look like?” Katarina hissed, rolling her eyes at his ignorance.

  “I believe it was black, but I’m not certain of the marks. Peter removed the pirate flag, replacing it with a Greek merchant flag almost immediately.” Gretta rubbed his fingers with her thumb in encouragement.

  “The pirate was Barbary,” Katarina spat. “Slaves? This Lubber, did he own slaves?”

  “Yes, he had two Russian boys, but they escaped unharmed. Jozef said Lubber had trouble keeping crew members.”

  “Barbary pirates couldn’t manage without slaves,” Katarina affirmed.

  “I don’t think Lubber was the original owner of the book.” Sam explained how the pirate needed Lorenzo to translate. “Lorenzo couldn’t read German. He knew the title because his grandmother read Grimm’s fairy tales to him when he was a child.” Roxana nodded in agreement.

  Sam detailed the hunt for the treasure and how Lubber found them. Katarina scoffed at Lorenzo’s mistakes. Quickly he moved on to how Lubber declared the treasure cursed and that bad luck would come to anyone who took it without a proper sacrifice. “Gretta’s ring is a piece of that treasure.” He turned her hand over within his, touched the red stone, and nodded in confirmation.

  Gretta swallowed hard, thinking about sacrifices and what Sam had already gone through. Sam continued, relaying the fight with the pirate and Lorenzo’s desire to kill him.

  “Did you influence my brother’s decision to spare the pirate’s life?” Roxana’s voice held a nervous tone.

  Sam’s eyes crinkled in thought. Gretta wondered what kind of person Lorenzo really was. She thought she knew him from the many days she tended to him as Anya. What about Sam? Did he encourage Lorenzo to kill or did he hold Lorenzo back?

  “Peter said Lorenzo didn’t have it in him to murder. Even though Lorenzo despised Lubber, I believe he would never have killed anyone in cold blood.”

  Gretta watched Roxana’s shoulders lose their rigid tension. He continued the story, relaying how they divided the treasure, chased goats, and gave three rings and two gold pieces to a boy. Sam took a deep breath. “Obviously it didn’t work. The ring’s right here.”

  Gretta’s heart raced as he rubbed her hand apologetically. She didn’t want him to let go, ever.

  “Peter and Lorenzo then sailed to the harbor where he found Alec’s store.” Sam glanced at Katarina. “I have trouble recalling the next several days.”

  Gretta eyed the tops of her purple sneakers. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You should be thanking me, boy,” Katarina sneered.

  “Thanking you? You took pleasure in—”

  “Please. Let me continue.” Gretta picked up the story, describing how she ran to Luda for the poultice. She mentioned that she was being followed but quickly added that she never saw anyone behind her. She explained how Anya took care of Lorenzo for two weeks. She relayed only the facts, not the feelings Anya had.

  “Lorenzo gave Anya a yellow rose the day we returned.” Gretta watched Katarina’s eyes narrow. Not sure if she said something wrong, she retraced her thoughts.

  Sam quickly finished explaining. “After Peter and Alec left the ship, Lorenzo kissed Anya. That’s how we returned.”

  “Fool, altering the past is forbidden, the consequences—”

  “May I have a word with you, Katarina?” Roxana’s calm demeanor changed abruptly.

  A sense of failure filled Gretta as Katarina glared at them.

  Roxana led the old woman away. Gretta didn’t know if Katarina’s anger focused on Sam’s attempt to get rid of the ring or if it was because Lorenzo kissed her granddaughter. She did know Sam had let go of her hand.

  “I screwed up.” Sam hung his head.

  “No. What you did, what you lived through. This is my fault. You should go back.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s too dangerous. The pirates—”

  “No, go back home. I’ll deal with the pirates.” Gretta watched the shock on his face fade into concern.

  “Gretta, do you remember what the pirates did to Giorgio? To Anya?”

  His eyes pierced her own as Anya’s memories filled her head. “They didn’t touch Anya. A stray bullet hit her arm.” She didn’t resist when he pulled her close. Grateful to avoid his eyes, she leaned her cheek to his chest, burying herself in his warmth. “Alec protects Anya. I’ll be safe.” Strong arms embraced her.

  “I won’t let you go.” His words were soft, perhaps not intended for her to hear. But he did let her go. Abruptly. Katarina brushed his shoulder as she strode past. Instinctively, Gretta began to follow, hoping Sam would, too.

  “Where are we going?” Sam demanded, grabbing her elbow.

  Katarina hurried along the path, holding her long skirts up.

  “We need more information,” Roxana announced behind them.

  “Where are we going?” Sam repeated.

  Gretta cringed but kept moving.

  “I have a granddaughter, Minnie, who may be able to help,” Roxana replied.

  Sam planted his feet, squared his shoulders, and tightened his grip, forcing Gretta to a halt. “Where are we going?” She was certain they weren’t moving until he received a straight answer.

  Roxana called to Katarina, “They need to know.” She stood beside Gretta as the old woman turned, scowling at all three of them.

  “The PIT.” Katarina spun on her heel and continued walking.

  Sam’s hand didn’t budge. Gretta squirmed.

  “It’s allowable for you to enter and exit with us,” Roxana began.
“We have to time it right.”

  Gretta took a step to follow Katarina, but the steel hold on her arm remained.

  “We don’t know anything about this PIT except that people want to get the hell out.” Sam’s grip tightened and, for a moment, all she wanted was to go back to their bodies, back into his protective embrace. The ring on her finger caught her eye, and that urge was lost.

  “If Minnie can help, I must see her. You’ve been through enough. Stay here.” Gretta turned to Roxana.

  “Minnie needs to be in proximity with anyone connected with the ring. Since Sam was with Lorenzo, it would be helpful if he was present.” Roxana moved closer.

  “I’ll go. You stay,” Sam commanded.

  “You won’t be going there when you die,” Gretta countered, trying to free herself from his hold.

  “I’m not leaving you.” The sincerity in his voice melted her anger. His grip fell to her hand and tightened. Together they caught up to Katarina.

  “Follow me,” Katarina answered with a smug look of satisfaction on her face. They followed the wooded path that wound through the park. The farther they walked, the darker it became. Trees disappeared as rocks and boulders formed around them. Finally, Katarina stopped.

  “Do not speak unless spoken to. Answer questions briefly. Do exactly what you are told. Never mind anyone else,” Katarina warned sternly with a pointed finger then forged ahead.

  “You’re shaking,” Sam whispered.

  “I’m good.” Why am I always cold?

  “You’re a terrible liar,” he shot back. “Stay close.”

  Gretta followed single file behind Katarina, squeezing herself between two gigantic boulders. Ahead, Katarina’s shoes clicked against uneven stones, heading down a cavern-like stairwell into darkness. With only the sound of Katarina’s echoing footsteps to lead her, Gretta descended the narrow staircase. She shivered as a dim light emerged from what seemed to be the end of the stairs. Katarina turned abruptly. Although her face was barely visible, Gretta noted a twitch of nervousness.