Then there were the cage matches.
The Reds liked to bet on the outcome of the fighting tournaments that took place twice a week in the gym. Big brothers and little brothers fought against each other in any combination, often with broken limbs as a result. Every time Raphael entered the cage, his only goal was to get out of it as soon as possible. Sometimes, his wish was granted and he spent time at the infirmary. Other times, he lasted longer and sent people to the infirmary.
The only good thing that came out of his new job for the Reds was his brand new bike, a red Ducati Monster that was given to him as his patching gift when he started delivering again. He had lost his Nimbus, but the Monster was a worthy substitute.
Every time Raphael mounted the Ducati, he couldn’t help but dream of the day he would drive away from the Reds with Luisa saddled behind him.
Her arms circling his waist tight as he revved the bike, she would finally smile.
****
One bright day at the end of March, the Reds closed the deal of the century with one of the biggest vampire nests in Rome. Obtaining exclusive rights to sell undiluted V, not only in Rome but all over Latium, put the big brothers in a celebrative mood, and Tancredi threw a party on the fourth floor for everyone to unwind. The entire gang was reunited in the ceremonial hall, and alcohol soon flew free for anyone inclined to get wasted. Rico was one of the major architects of the deal and had started drinking heavily a few hours earlier, much to Raphael’s displeasure who would have to clean after his raucous big brother.
“Have something, pup.” Rico shoved a bottle of beer under Raphael’s nose.
“Later, thanks.” Not that he didn’t need a drink or two to lighten his mood, but Raphael had only eyes for the harem girls, who were coming out from behind the carved screen on the left of the dais. Despite knowing he and Luisa wouldn’t be free to talk to each other, he hadn’t been able to see her in more than a week and the anticipation drove him crazy. The love notes they hid under the terracotta pot kept him going, but they weren’t enough.
In a drunken stride, Rico walked toward the girls who had just entered the hall and looked around. The whole week, the werewolf had acted more despondent and more mean than usual, giving Raphael extra deliveries at the last moment and grating on Raphael’s already frayed nerves.
The moment Luisa emerged from behind the harem screen, Rico zeroed in on her and Raphael’s heart slammed into his chest in fear.
When asked, Luisa had sworn that Rico was leaving her alone. But Raphael couldn’t stop from worrying about his big brother taking an interest in her again. What if he got bored of his latest favorite? During their fleeting encounters, even if at a distance, Raphael always checked Luisa for visible bruises. Fortunately, he had noticed none. It was the reason why he hadn’t done anything rash yet, but now he could see the predatory look in Rico’s eyes, and his fangs descend into his mouth.
Unaware of Raphael’s struggle to contain his wolf, Rico grabbed Luisa’s arm and jerked her around. “Here she is, my little bitch.”
A dangerous mixture of panic and anger pumped into Raphael’s veins, clouding his power of reasoning and letting Wolf much closer to the surface.
“Having fun already, Rico?” Tancredi called from his throne.
At hearing the alpha, the werewolf spun around without letting go of Luisa. “A man must relax after such a day, no?”
“That’s what parties are for.” Tancredi reached for the redhead standing on the dais and pulled her into his lap. “Let’s celebrate.” With a regal nod, he dismissed Rico who teetered through the hall dragging Luisa after him.
Following them a few steps behind, Raphael saw the bruise forming on Luisa’s arm and his wolf roared. Reminding himself it would be much worse for her if he made a scene now, he bit his tongue and ordered his wolf to silence once again.
In a lewd parody of dancing, Rico paused in the middle of the hall to sway at rhythm with the loud music. Then he pressed Luisa’s back to his chest and licked her throat, as his big hand slid under her top.
“You do smell quite good, don’t you?” Spinning the two of them around, the werewolf’s hands roamed up and down Luisa. He stopped only when he faced Raphael again, and, with his eyes locked on his, he squeezed Luisa’s breast. “I might let you back into my rotation if you start acting like a good girl.” With a sudden turn, he gave his back to Raphael.
Raphael saw black. Rico was challenging him. Despite Raphael had taken all the precautions to ensure Luisa was safe and no one knew of them, his big brother knew. His stomach contracted while his hands balled into fists and swung at Rico by their own volition.
One big hand intercepted the blow. “Easy, pup.” Rock was looking down at him, his expression as stony as his name implied. “Whatever you think you’re doing, don’t.”
With a jerk, Raphael freed himself from Rock—whom he hadn’t heard coming—and showed him teeth.
“Get a grip!” Rock hissed, bodily stopping Raphael from advancing toward Rico who was still groping Luisa.
When Rock tapped on Rico’s shoulder, the werewolf turned and his eyes widened at the sight of Rock, a drunken smile gracing his face. “Hey, brother, how was your day?”
“Just great.” Rock kept his body angled to talk to Rico, meanwhile shielding Raphael from the other wolf. “I heard yours was eventful.”
“Yeah… you could say that.” Rico kissed Luisa’s crown making her shiver, then his expression changed from sleepy to calculate. “Tell you what, brother, I’m feeling generous tonight and I’ll share my toy with you.” As he pushed Luisa toward the other Red, his gaze zeroed in on Raphael. His icy blue eyes drilled Raphael, waiting for him to react.
Having turned seventeen a few months back, Raphael had finally bulked up thanks to a steadier diet and all the cage fight training. But Rico was bigger, both in height and weight, and Raphael had to remind himself he better stay put. And yet, he would have risked everything to hurt Rico for touching Luisa, and humiliating her before the crowd that had gathered to watch the drama unfold.
“No, thanks. Got my old lady waiting for me.” Rock pointed his chin at Chloe, who stood beside a group of girls looking at them from a corner nearby, worry etched on their faces.
“Raphael, what about you? Fancy some sport with this ugly ragdoll?” Rico squeezed Luisa’s chest with both hands, and she gasped. “She isn’t much to look at, no curves and all bones. But isn’t that your type—”
Raphael forced a mask on his face. Hoping he could still salvage the situation, he uttered the crudest, filthiest thing he could think of, and waited for the men to laugh. Then, without looking at Luisa, he told Rico, “Sure. I might have a use for that.”
Luisa lowered her head, but Raphael saw her tears and hated himself.
Rico made to push her toward Raphael, but at the last moment he pulled Luisa back against him instead. “Changed my mind, pup. I’ll have some fun with her myself.” His hand went to Luisa’s throat, his fingers circling her skin in a possessive way, without pressing yet.
The drunken horde hollered and cheered, reminding Raphael of how powerless he was to do anything. The realization didn’t stop him from roaring and baring teeth. Luisa’s ashen expression and the subtle shake of her head as tears kept falling down her cheek made him sheathe his fangs, but not fast enough.
“Oh, the pup is angry he doesn’t get to play tonight.” Rico’s hold on Luisa’s throat tightened. An open threat. “Are you challenging me, little brother?”
The crowd anticipated blood and shouted their approval, chanting, “Fight! Fight!”
“That’s an idea. What says you?” Rico smiled and finally opened his hand, letting go of Luisa who staggered forward, color returning to her face.
Before Raphael could reach for her, Rock grabbed Luisa’s elbow and took her aside and out of Rico’s reach as well. For that, Raphael was grateful.
“Do you have the guts to fight me, pup?” Stepping forward, Rico beat his chest with his fist
ed hands.
More holler from the crowd followed his act.
Although Raphael should have known better, a sneer came out of his mouth as he raised an eyebrow and said, “Worried you’ll have your ass beaten by a cub, big brother?”
Whistles, laughter, and general bewilderment covered Rico’s words to Raphael. “Be very careful with what you say. Being under Tancredi’s protection doesn’t put you above brotherhood rules.”
With more bravado than he could afford, Raphael stepped closer to Rico until he encroached on the werewolf’s personal space, and beat his chest too. “Bring it on.” Desperation and anger didn’t make him smart, but he couldn’t see any other way out from that situation.
Some of the men nearby must have heard the exchange, and started stomping their boots, calling Tancredi’s attention from the other end of the hall. One raised hand from the alpha was all it took for the drunkards to sober up and shut their mouths.
“What’s the matter?” Tancredi asked Rico.
“Pup needs to learn some manners, and I intend to provide the service tonight.” Rico’s words were smug, but Raphael noticed how his big brother drummed his fingers against his thigh.
The Red’s nervousness was a sign he wasn’t as drunk as Raphael had counted on. Rico was lucid enough to fear Tancredi’s wrath and that wasn’t good.
Tancredi turned to face Raphael, gave him an assessing gaze, then said to Rico, “Make it a fair fight.”
Rico stilled his fingers making a fist and yet answered, “Would never have it any other way.” He then focused on Raphael, his canines visible when his lips stretched into a scary smile.
With a paternal gesture so at odds with his character, Tancredi wound his arm around Raphael’s shoulder. “You might earn your second tattoo tonight.”
Blood chilled in Raphael’s veins. No one had told him anything about having to endure the torturing prickle of the stigma ever again. Although, at the moment he had more pressing matters he needed to deal with than worrying about another ink session.
Rico flanked him on the other side. “If he survives the cage,” he said, matching Raphael’s own conclusion.
With a chuckle, Tancredi made sign for the crowd to move along. “To the gym.”
A procession formed. While the horde headed toward the stairs, Raphael and Rico were directed by Tancredi to the elevator, creating a low buzz of excitement. Raphael scanned the crowd looking for Luisa, but realized neither Rock nor the other girls were in the hall anymore. With his heart in his throat and his thoughts scattered in a million different directions, he entered the elevator cabin.
The ride downstairs was silent, slow, and awkward, and made for a stark contrast when the door slid to the side and revealed several people waiting for them. They must have run the stairs three or four at a time to be already at the gym landing. In no time, the crowd recomposed, and after a moment of hesitation to test the alpha’s mood the cheering resumed.
While Raphael and Rico were escorted to the cage, a frenetic exchange of money ensued among the spectators. Idly, Raphael wondered if anyone would wager in his favor, then he raised his eyes to the jutting walkway and saw where the girls had gone. His fleeting amusement soured in his mouth, leaving only dread behind.
Luisa, hugged by Chloe, sat with her legs dangling in the empty air. Her posture rigid, she stared down at him unblinking. Raphael felt her fear, her desperation, and those feelings became his own, pumping his heart to a frenzy.
“Keep your head.” Rock’s meaty hand fell on his shoulder.
Again, Raphael hadn’t heard him coming and didn’t care for his presence.
“He has much more to lose than you do,” Rock added.
Up on the walkway, Chloe embraced Luisa tighter and leaned forward, hiding Luisa’s face from Raphael. Automatically, he stepped forward, distressed that Luisa would watch him fight, and terrified that would be the last she saw of him. Chloe shook her head and covered Luisa with her arms.
“Listen to me.” Rock grabbed Raphael’s elbow and squeezed hard.
The pinching pain reverberated to his shoulder and Raphael suppressed a cry.
“Do I have your attention now?” Rock didn’t let go of him until Raphael nodded. “When you enter the cage remember what you learned while sparring with Rico. He’s big and cocky.”
“Thanks for the pep talk.” His eyes glued on the walkway, Raphael silently begged for Chloe to have mercy on him, and release her hold on Luisa long enough for him to say his goodbye.
Tancredi took position on the big chair one of the brothers had dragged down from the billiard room for him—he usually didn’t show at the fight tournaments—and raised his jeweled hand. “Let’s the match begin.”
Accompanied by Rock, Raphael entered the cage before Rico, who ran around its perimeter soliciting the crowd to cheer him. Once they were both inside, Rock exited and the spectators fell silent once again.
Dark, malevolent energy permeated Rico as he approached Raphael with a smirk. “No rounds. We fight until you drop or cry uncle.”
With a shrug, Raphael bumped his fists against Rico’s raised ones. “You wish.” So that was Rico’s plan, to force him to surrender and humiliate him.
The ability to reason escaped Raphael the moment the cage door closed with a clank. His wolf snarled and he let him, his hair bristled and his fangs lowered. Bleak thoughts swirled inside his mind and froze his heart.
“Wolves in check or you are disqualified,” Tancredi ordered, then flicked his wrist. One of the three girls standing behind his chair hurried to his side, and grabbing her by her waist he lowered her to the armchair.
Bright light exploded over the cage, offending Raphael’s eyes, and making Rico a stark sight while the rest of the world disappeared behind the bars.
Whereas Rico had been boisterous up until a moment earlier, now he took slow, measured gestures to remove his shirt, then his boots.
The Red’s show didn’t faze Raphael. The man was big and ripped, but Raphael already knew that from their sparring sessions, where Rico always took great care in pointing out how small and scrawny Raphael was compared to him. His father had always remarked on Raphael being the runt of the litter too.
Raphael kicked his boots and socks out, and let the concrete floor coldness seep through his bare feet and center him.
“Are you going to fight dressed for the ball?” Rico pointed at Raphael’s jacket. “Remove it.”
That was new. The werewolf had never commanded Raphael to doff his clothes. True, Raphael had never fought with his Red jacket on, because disrespecting the patch was frowned upon. Even though Raphael didn’t care about the Red code of conduct, he needed to blend in and not enrage the spectators and Tancredi. So, as he had done countless times before, he bit his remark and shrugged off his jacket, despite his wolf demanding him to stand up to the Red and the rest of the audience.
“The shirt too, lover boy.” A cruel, knowing smile lit Rico’s face as he raised an eyebrow in challenge.
When Raphael hesitated—the fear of showing himself too ingrained for him to let go of it—Rico barked a laugh, then said loud enough for the people near the bars to hear him, “Worried to show your ugly back?”
At first, Raphael’s stomach contracted. The old, familiar pang of panic rose to his throat, choking him. Then he realized Rico must have seen his scars when Raphael had fainted that first day of training, and waited to use that knowledge. Somehow, the thought was liberating.
With the same slow, deliberated movements Rico had shown earlier, Raphael grabbed the hem of his shirt and raised it over his head, only to toss it to the floor with a lazy smile. Raising his arms to the side, he rotated on his feet, giving the audience the full visual of the crisscross of lashes and cigarette butts marring his skin, from the base of his neck to the small of his back. His father had been nothing but thorough and dedicated to the task of teaching his son what was his place in this world, trembling and shaking at his feet.
When t
he collective gasp came, Raphael raised his chin and locked eyes with Rico. “Do your worst.”
Rico’s smile faltered for a moment, but when he talked again his voice was humorless. “You asked for it.” Snarling, he descended on Raphael like a fury, his hands balled in fists and his fangs out.
The first punch hit Raphael’s jaw and he staggered back, but regained control before the second punch would send him to the floor. Dancing on the ball of his feet, he evaded Rico’s next attack and kicked him squarely in the chest. Raphael’s wolf howled, and the crowd half cheered and half booed him.
“Mind your wolf!” Tancredi’s voice boomed from the darkness.
Controlling Wolf from lashing out took his mind from the imminent danger, and Raphael lost momentum. Rico took advantage of Raphael’s loss of focus and kicked him back, too close to his groin for Raphael’s comfort. Then Raphael leaned, and spun on his heels to deliver a roundhouse kick that only hit Rico’s arm.
“You’re like a mosquito,” the man hissed and launched himself at Raphael, squashing him against the bars, upper and lower jabs rained down on Raphael.
With his arms raised, Raphael tried to protect his head, but Rico pummeled his chin with a series of punches that reverberated through Raphael’s mouth, and from there to his skull. Years of practice in defending himself kicked in, and he was able to relax his tongue and move it away from his teeth. Too close to his opponent and too busy avoiding incapacitating blows, at a loss for smart moves Raphael raised his knee up, hoping to connect with any of Rico’s vital parts.
An anguished snarl followed, and Rico leaned away long enough for Raphael to free himself from the cornered position, and move toward the center of the cage. Rico recouped immediately and swung at him with an uppercut that caught Raphael unprepared, even though he had seen the blow coming his way. The sheer amount of power behind the punch that connected with Raphael’s solar plexus wasn’t anything he was used to. Even during their gruesome sparring sessions, Rico had never hit him that hard. With a gasp, Raphael ended on the concrete floor but managed to roll and didn’t hit his head.
Raphael (The Immortal Youth Book 1) Page 14
