“Sit down please.” Barnes pointed at the chair Quintilius had occupied and was now safely empty.
Instead of sitting, Samuel leaned over the back and grabbed the headrest. “Listen, I’m sorry I started on the wrong foot, but I tried my best to please the man.”
Barnes raised one hand and shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. It’s not your fault his nephew wasn’t smart.”
Samuel was so surprised by his words that he remained silent.
“I called you here because I have a new assignment for you.” Barnes opened a drawer from the file cabinet to his left. “There’s been a series of unsolved cases we have failed to connect to each other until recently.” He opened a yellow folder he had retrieved from the drawer and took a page from it. “Several renegades have been found dead in the last two years. At first, it was sporadic. Nobody took the time to look into those deaths since they were renegades and renegades live dangerous lives. Then more and more cases started popping up.” He handed Samuel the paper.
“Okay.” Samuel took it, then walked around the chair and lowered himself on it. After a good perusal of the names, he shook his head. “I don’t know any of them, but I’ll make a few phone calls and see if I can find anything.” He gave the paper another look, but besides the victims coming all from the renegades fringes, he couldn’t see any pattern yet. He stood, eager to call it a day.
Barnes accompanied him to the door. “As a liaison between species, you’re the best candidate for this job.”
Driving to Martina’s office, Samuel made a mental note to call Marcus and ask him if he knew any of the renegades on the list. Being a renegade himself, maybe the centurion had crossed paths with the victims. Samuel checked the time, but it was too early to call Marcus. The centurion was married to a vampire and just recently they had adopted a were-bat child. As a necessity, the whole family kept nocturnal hours.
****
Martina was finally back at her desk after having spent several hours at the courthouse, pleading her case before a judge who hadn’t shown any empathy for Lina, the abused woman she was representing. Martina had hoped for a woman judge, but a burly man in his sixties had showed up at the beginning of the session, and she had known right away she would have to ask for an appeal. She had been right all along.
Several papers were scattered across her mahogany desk, and she was looking at them as if they were written in Sanskrit. She kicked her low heels off under the desk and swiveled in her chair, looking for that perfect sentence that when said before the judge would make all the difference for her client. Maybe she should have called in sick. After all, the bump on her head was still sore when she passed her fingers over the swollen spot. By those sudden connections the mind creates, she thought of the events of the day before and wondered what Samuel was doing. Her cell phone chimed from her purse. She leaned to her right and reached down to the floor for her hobo bag that had slid from the back of her chair. Several people had called. She discarded all the messages but Samuel’s. One glance at her watch told her he was already on his way. A strange excitement filled her, and she began the routine she followed every day before leaving her office. She slipped on her shoes and started closing drawers and filing documents in the right folders. All the while, she kept working on that elusive sentence. She never stopped working on her cases. Those women counted on her, and she would not fail them.
The door of her office opened without a knock. Her back was to it, organizing folders on the top shelf of the big cabinet by the window, but she felt Giulio’s presence as if she were looking at him. She turned as he pushed the door closed behind him.
Fear possessed her. “Giulio, what are you doing here?”
“It’s lovely to see you too, dear wife.” He gave her a cold stare, then turned to lock the door.
“What’s the meaning of that? Open that door.”
His eyes on hers, he advanced toward the desk. “I’m here to show you I’m still your husband.” He stopped before her. “No other man will ever make you feel the way I do.”
She stood tall, refusing to let him see how his words and his nearness made her want to cry. “Leave at once. Don’t make me call security.”
“Nobody saw me.” He leaned over the desk and grabbed the land line, then calmly jerked the telephone cable out of the wall. Martina immediately went for her purse, but he was faster and snatched it from her hand and threw it away. “I always told you that you worked too much. So often you stayed when everyone else had gone. You haven’t changed your habits. One day, they’ll be your ruin, you know that?”
Martina feared his calm state more than his bouts of rage. When he was angry, he simply beat her. But when he was as calm as he was now, he took his time to humiliate her. And she could see he was also high on something. His movements had a strange, jerky quality.
She stepped back, but there was little room left between her and the cabinet. “You wanted to talk to me. Let’s talk once and for all.”
“They say actions speak louder than words.” He stepped forward. His body too close. The expression on his face one she recognized all too well. He raised one hand and brushed her arm.
Martina’s stomach contracted in a painful spasm. The food she had eaten that morning transformed into bile. “Don’t touch me.”
“Say it again. You know how much it excites me when you play this game.” He grabbed her arm by the elbow in a grip that soon became painful, his fingers digging in her skin.
“Don’t.” She jerked her arm away, but he was stronger. “Do. Not. Touch. Me.” Tears already streamed down her face, and she screamed. She had trained in self-defense for the last two years and yet, when it came to defend herself from him, she stood paralyzed.
“There’s no one outside to hear you. Nobody will help you.” Giulio grabbed her other arm and pulled her to the side, only to orient her toward the desk, and shoved her on it before she could do anything to stop him. She screamed until her voice cracked. “I love it when you scream.”
“Stop!” Martina’s hands went up to her blouse as he reached for its collar.
He slapped her hard with one hand as he tore her collar away with the other. Buttons flew away, and fell to the floor sounding like ricocheting pebbles. Martina’s clawed hands reached for his eyes.
Giulio got hold of both her wrists and lowered her arms behind her head. “Yes. Fight me. Cry. Beg me to stop.”
Like all the other times. She raised her knees to push him away, but he easily subdued her by pinning her on the desk with his body. Her chest compressed under his weight and barely able to breathe, she heard him open the fly of his pants. She felt her skirt being yanked up and her panties ripped. With nothing else left to do, she screamed until her throat hurt.
Giulio smashed her head on the desk, leaving her dizzy. Then he covered her mouth with the palm of his hand, his hateful voice whispering obscenities in her ear. She shut her eyes, praying it would be over soon. Like all the other times.
Chapter Four
Giulio forcefully kept her down. She was expecting the humiliation and the pain to start, but a crashing noise echoed in the room and Giulio raised his head.
“Get off of her!”
Her ears rang, her heart galloped in her chest, and every breath she took felt labored and painful. Then Giulio jumped backward and away from her, and she saw Samuel standing before her, a vengeful expression mixed with fear on his face.
“Are you okay?” Samuel’s eyes roamed over her, his right hand reaching out for her.
Before he could help, Martina instinctively pushed herself up. She lowered her skirt and tried to close the torn lapels of her blouse. As it had happened so many times before, she felt self-conscious and ashamed. A low moan and a series of blasphemies coming from below the desk made her look for Giulio.
He was sprawled on the floor, between the desk and the file cabinet. A smear of blood stained one of the corners of the piece of furniture, and he was nursing a spot on his head. When
he pulled his hand back, it came away bloodied.
“You bastard cripple. You’ll pay for this.” With effort, he propped himself up and lurched toward Samuel.
Martina jumped down from the desk, grabbing a paperweight one of her clients’ kids had made for her. She brandished the object at Giulio as she shielded Samuel. “Leave.”
His pupils dilated and eyes bloodshot, Giulio gave her a disbelieving look, then roared a laugh and pushed her out of the way as if she were weightless. “Between the two of you, I don’t know who’s more pathetic. The cripple or the little whore.”
Samuel bent to help Martina up, then stepped before her to face Giulio. “You better run.”
“Says who? The frail little man who can’t stand on his own two feet?” Giulio stepped forward to tower over Samuel; he even slapped his own chest to make a point. A whole head taller than Samuel, he looked down and sneered.
Martina heard steps shuffling behind her and turned to see Alfonso, the janitor, staring aghast at the scene. “Call the police!”
****
Samuel inwardly swore. He didn’t need witnesses for what he was about to do. The deranged ex-husband he could handle. The man was high on what looked like vampire blood and would remember only bits and pieces of the event in any case. Samuel would have to give Martina an explanation of sorts for his unnatural strength, but he could blame the drugs of having impaired Giulio and given him the upper hand in the confrontation. Regarding the way he had smashed the door open, he would come up with something. But the janitor had stepped in at the worst possible moment.
“What’s happening here?” The older man, broom in hand, walked closer to them, giving Martina a good look. “How are you, miss?”
“Alfonso, call the police, now,” Martina repeated her plea.
“Old man, if you know what’s good for you, I wouldn’t call.” Giulio tried to grab Martina’s arm, but Samuel moved as he moved, shielding her from him.
The janitor reached for the front pocket in his uniform and retrieved a cell phone.
Giulio pointed a finger at the janitor. “I strongly suggest that you don’t make that call.” He skirted to the right to bypass Samuel, but couldn’t reach the old man.
Samuel took Giulio’s forearm in a tight grip, digging his fingers into Giulio’s sinews, applying calibrated pressure until he felt the bones beneath starting to crack. “Leave before the police arrive.” Samuel didn’t want to be there when the human law enforcement arrived. Two brushes with them in as many days were too much to explain to his boss.
Giulio moaned in pain, which attracted both Martina’s and the janitor’s attention.
Samuel leaned toward Giulio and whispered, “Do not make a scene or I’ll break your arm in so many different pieces you’ll never hold a spoon again.”
Giulio tried to jerk away his arm, only to force Samuel to apply more pressure on it. “You’ll pay for this-”
“You already told me.” Samuel was getting annoyed he couldn’t cause the man any real harm without having to expose his nature. One brief glance sideways told him the janitor was finally making the phone call, but Giulio didn’t seem worried about that.
“Nobody can touch me. When the police arrive, they’ll take you to the precinct, not me.” He moved to the side to sneer at Martina. “How many times did you try?”
Samuel felt Martina’s body become tense behind him.
“My family owns all the right people in all the right places.” Giulio’s tone had changed into a singsong, and his eyes were glazed over.
Martina had stepped beside Samuel. “Your family’s reach has limits too.”
Meanwhile, the janitor was talking on the phone.
Something clicked in Samuel’s mind and he remembered why Giulio’s last name had sounded familiar. The Severis were deeply involved with Quintilius’s business. The news was troubling, but gave Samuel an idea of how to deal with the coward before him. He leaned even closer to Giulio. “If you don’t leave right away, I’ll contact the Roman Chronicles and I’ll tell them how you came here to rape your ex-wife and how you tried to hit a cripple.” Quintilius liked to keep a low profile and he was known only to trust his interests in the hands of people who were above reproach.
Samuel’s threat seemed to work as Giulio’s eyes focused on him, a fearful expression growing on his hateful face. “Listen to me carefully. I’ll drag you down in a scandal so large your family will disown you.” He stopped a moment before saying, “Your family will throw you to the wolves.” As far as he knew, the Severis only dealt with the human side of Quintilius’s many businesses, but just in case Giulio—who clearly consumed vampire blood—was familiar with the paranormal world, Samuel didn’t want to reveal he was part of it.
“The police are coming.” The janitor raised the broom again and brandished it in Giulio’s general direction.
“Scram.” Samuel gave Giulio’s arm one last squeeze, then let him free.
Giulio looked around, his movements less sharp than a moment earlier. Samuel surmised the effects of the vampire blood were lessening and Giulio, a mere human, would crash soon. From outside the window, the blaring noise of the police’s siren echoed into Martina’s office, startling the man out of his daze.
“It doesn’t end here.” Giulio staggered on his feet, pushed aside Martina, then shoved off the janitor who valiantly tried to stop him, and ran out of the room.
Samuel wasted no time. He grabbed Martina’s hand, hurriedly thanked the janitor for his help, and exited the room. He didn’t stop until they reached the exit to the flight of stairs leading to the rear entrance of the building. Only when they were outside did he come to a halt and take a moment to look at her.
“How are you?”
Martina’s eyes were moist with tears, but she took a deep breath and blinked them away.
He stepped back to put her at arm’s length. “Did he—?”
She seemed to shrink at his question, and for a moment, he feared the worst, then she shook her head.
He let out the breath he was holding and limited himself to grab her hand, instead of acting upon his growing desire to take her in his arms and kiss her troubles away. “Where do you want to go?”
“I have nowhere to go.” Martina’s composure crumbled before his eyes and she started sobbing. “I need to shower and change, but I don’t want to stay at my apartment.”
“Come here.” He pulled her to him and guided her head to the crook between his shoulder and throat. “We’ll go to your place first, then I’ll drive you back to mine. Once there, we’ll decide what to do. Is it okay?”
For a long moment, she shook in his embrace, her chest raising and falling sharply, then she nodded.
****
The moment Martina stepped back inside Samuel’s apartment, she experienced a sense of belonging she hadn’t felt in a long time. But most of all, she knew she was safe.
“Care for a cup of coffee or tea?” He had moved to the kitchen and was holding a moka in one hand, and a teapot in the other, dangling them by their handles.
“Tea, please.” She couldn’t help but stare at him.
Back at the office, there had been a déjà vu moment when he had looked bigger, taller, and deadly. Now, navigating between the countertop and the stove, he was Samuel, her sparring partner with a disability. Yet, she had to remind herself of his handicap. Something had happened in the last two days that made her look at him differently. Samuel had graduated from innocuous friend she felt at ease fighting in close combat with to a man she might be interested in. She would have never sparred with someone she was attracted to. Too much physical contact happened during their trainings, and now she couldn’t help but think Samuel knew her quite intimately. How many times during the heat of the fight had their hands landed on private parts? Until two days ago, she would have never thought about that. Now, it was the only thought in her mind. The melodious hiss from the kettle brought her back to the present.
Samuel asked her
if she wanted sugar in her tea, then poured a cup for her and beckoned her to the kitchen breakfast bar, where he was busy opening food containers. “Let’s have some early dinner before all these goodies turn cold.” Without looking at her, he filled two plates with food. On the way to his apartment, he had stopped by a small pizzeria, bought pizza slices, rice and potato croquettes, and even a tray of tramezzini. “Tea isn’t the right beverage when it comes to rotisserie food, but I hate soda, and I need something other than plain water.”
“I hate soda too.” Even at a distance, she could see the color of his eyes and she was reminded of the most crystalline waters of the Sardinian Sea. The memory of his strong arms circling her back made her yearn to be hugged again. She walked to the breakfast bar, sat on a high stool, and accepted a plate from him. “Thank you for rescuing me again from Giulio. This time, if you hadn’t arrived when you did…”
“But I did. Don’t waste your time thinking of him.” He reached his hand over the counter to touch hers. “Men like him are the worst humanity has to offer.”
The gentle pressure of his fingers caressing her wrist made her struggle to breathe. “Thank God for men like you.” The more she stared into his eyes, the bigger he became in her mind, until he was a giant towering over her, shielding her from the evil in her life. “I—”
The doorbell rang and they both jumped back, and only then did she notice they had been leaning forward over the counter to reach the other.
****
At the first ring, Samuel’s heart had slammed against his ribcage. “Crap. I forgot about poker night.” He couldn’t believe he had.
“Poker night?”
He nodded. “A few friends coming over.” Martina’s lips were wet and enticing and he couldn’t seem to look past them.
The doorbell rang for a few more counts, then voices and hard knocks on the door followed. Marcus’s bellow was the loudest, but Ophelia was almost as vocal as the centurion. Alexander was the only one calling his name at a reasonable volume.
The Broken Angel Page 7
