The Broken Angel

Home > Science > The Broken Angel > Page 11
The Broken Angel Page 11

by Monica La Porta


  Samuel slowly disengaged himself from her, leaving her cold and wanting the solace of his touch. He scooted to the opposite side of the bed, one hand passing through his unruly hair, the other grabbing at the coverlet. “You’re better off not knowing.”

  “I don’t think so.” She clutched the sides of the blanket closer against her chest and remembered her shirt had been torn open by Giulio, her bra dangling from her right shoulder.

  Samuel’s cell phone rang, but he let the call go to voicemail. After a moment, the phone rang again, and he seemed to notice it for the first time. Still, he didn’t move, his eyes on her, his hand now roughly passing over his chin and jaw. “Martina, I…”

  The cell phone’s din sounded too loud and unnerved her battered senses. Martina wanted peace and quiet, his arms around her, and straightforward answers that would make perfect sense out of something she must have hallucinated.

  “Take the call.” His mobile had started ringing anew for the third time, yet Samuel kept staring at her. Something snapped inside of her. She leaned toward him, reached forward for his rear pocket, yanked the phone off of it, accepted the call and handed it to him. “Answer.”

  He gingerly accepted her offer and brought it to his right ear. “Samuel.”

  She listened to his side of the conversation, a series of yeses and noes followed by long silences that concluded with him throwing the phone on the bed.

  The hand he had been twisting the coverlet with slowly walked toward her thigh, but stopped before his fingers could make contact. “There’s an emergency at work and it can’t wait.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She wouldn’t let him know how much she wanted for him to stay. She had been taking care of herself for a long time; she didn’t need a man. But she wanted him. Then the image of a giant came back to her unbidden and added confusion to her already chaotic thoughts. She could still hear the sound of flapping wings.

  ****

  “I won’t leave you alone.” Samuel saw the relief in her eyes and hated to have to crush it. “I’ll track down Alexander and see if he’s still at the gym.”

  She held out a hand and shook her head. “We talk first.”

  “Later.” He took her raised hand and brought it to his lips. “You’ll stay there while I take care of what I need to do. Then I’ll come back for you and we’ll talk.” He closed the gap he had created between them and pulled her into his lap. “I promise.”

  She was still shivering too much under the blanket she held around her like a shield, but she relaxed against his chest. “But you’ll tell me the truth.”

  He dropped a kiss on her head. “Even if you won’t like it and I’ll regret it.” He savored the moment, knowing everything would soon change between them.

  A moan coming from the floor reminded him of the poor excuse for a man he had wanted so much to kill. One look at Martina’s condition upon entering the room, and he had come too close to losing his restraint. Samuel had never killed a man in anger, but he knew if he had, he wouldn’t have been crying over it. “Where do you want him?”

  Martina’s eyes fleetingly grazed over her ex-husband. “Out of here.”

  The look of disgust on her face, and the way she hugged herself tight, covering the signs of the belt marring her flesh, made him regret he had spared the bastard. “Out of here it is.” He gently laid her back on the bed. “You might want to take a hot shower while I take out the garbage.” He squeezed her hand, then released it.

  She nodded and rose from the bed, the blanket covering her from head to toe. He watched as she slowly progressed through the room, entered the adjacent bathroom and closed the door behind her. He waited to hear the sound of running water, then hauled Giulio up and threw him on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. Samuel walked all the way to the living room, where he dropped him on the floor amidst the broken glass and the shards of potteries. Then he rang the Immortal Council’s health transportation department and called in a favor, asking for a cab ride to the closest paranormal ambulatory. He explained a human was involved and that they had to come pick him up because he couldn’t leave the apartment on his own.

  Standing by one of the living room’s windows, Samuel waited for the non-descriptive minivan to arrive, worried Martina would come out and ask more questions he couldn’t answer at the moment. The van was there in less than five minutes, and a minute or so later, he handed the still-unconscious Giulio to two brawny immortals wearing green scrubs. The two men deposited him on a stretcher, asked Samuel a few routine questions, and left the apartment in haste. From the same window, he watched the van leaving without nosy passersby asking questions.

  Reassured everything had gone as expected, Samuel walked back to Martina’s bedroom. Once the special memory unit was done with Giulio, he would only remember having overdone it on alcohol and drugs. The man deserved to have horrific memories implanted in his mind, but Samuel reminded himself he worked to maintain peace among races, and such an act of vengeance was beneath him. All his reasoning went out of the proverbial window when Martina stepped out of her bathroom, freshly showered and wearing new clothes that covered her more than necessary in this weather. A loose, hooded sweater enclosed her body from her chin to almost her knees.

  “I’ll kill him.”

  She gasped, her startled eyes on him, and he realized he had talked out loud, again.

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to find a blasted parking spot.” He stepped closer to her and opened his arms for her.

  She let him wrap her in his embrace. “You came. That’s all that matters.” She let out a sob. “He was already here. I don’t know how he got in. I never gave him the key to this apartment. He must have bribed the superintendent.” She looked around at her bedroom. “Please, let’s get out of here.”

  He escorted her out of the room and would have flown through the living room to spare her having to witness once again the sight of the wreckage Giulio had inflicted to the place.

  She lingered in the middle of it, tears spilling down her face. “He keeps robbing me of everything.”

  He pulled her away and led her down the stairs and out into the street before he stopped to take her lips for a soft kiss. “If after tonight you still want me, I’ll be here for you.” She moved in his arms, but he stilled her with another kiss. “I’m asking you to wait a few more hours, then you’ll have all your answers.”

  She finally nodded and kissed him back.

  ****

  Martina wanted nothing else than to release her anger, but not even Alexander’s gym was doing the trick. Samuel had called his friend from the car and left her there after a few words with Drako. After that hasty conversation, Alexander had come to her side with worried eyes and a brotherly attitude and asked her if she needed anything, but in truth, she only wanted Samuel back. Soon after her arrival, both Ravenna, Alexander’s partner, and Ophelia had entered the gym.

  As soon as Ophelia saw Martina, she made a beeline to her side. “Care for a different sparring partner tonight?”

  “No, I don’t feel like it.” Out of the corner of her eye, Martina noticed Alexander talking to Ravenna in hushed tones, nodding toward her more than once.

  From Ravenna’s reaction to his words and their evident interest in her, Martina concluded he was telling her what had happened. Martina had seen the raven beauty once or twice at the gym, and they had nodded and smiled to each other as common courtesy dictated, but had never started a conversation. Ravenna intimidated her, even more than Ophelia did, and when the woman walked in her direction, Martina hoped there were someone behind her Ravenna wanted to talk to.

  Ravenna stopped before her and extended her hand over her pregnant belly for Martina to take. “Hi, Martina. We’ve never been officially introduced. I’m Ravenna.”

  “A pleasure to meet you.” Martina took the offered hand, baffled by the woman.

  Alexander’s companion was as famous as he was, and used to having her face—and now also her round belly—pa
raded on The Roman Chronicles almost every day, and yet here she was introducing herself to her.

  “Alexander just told me what happened. I’m so sorry. If there’s anything we can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.” Ravenna hadn’t let go of Martina’s hand, but kept it in hers and gently squeezed it.

  “What happened?” Ophelia, who had been distracted by an extremely tall and buff guy who had just entered the gym, turned to face them.

  Martina briefly summarized her ordeal for Ophelia and was pleased by how both women were prompt in offering their help and support. Alexander brought three chairs for them and they sat by a small coffee table at the corner, out of the way of the boxers and free to talk without anyone eavesdropping. Then he prepared some fresh-brewed tea.

  “May I have a croissant?” Ravenna softly kissed Alexander’s hand as he poured the tea.

  Martina looked at the clock on the wall; it was almost dinner time, and the possibility any bar would still have croissants was close to zero.

  “Of course.” He hurried out to the bar in front of the gym.

  Martina was thankful for Ravenna’s cravings because the conversation steered toward her highly televised pregnancy.

  “It must be hard to be always under the spotlight.” Martina was sipping jasmine tea from a porcelain cup. What was with the men frequenting this gym and tea sets?

  Ophelia laughed. “It’s truly annoying being friends with those two and always having to check if you’re wearing the right outfit when around them.”

  Ravenna shook her head and smiled at Ophelia, then turned toward Martina. “Yes, it is. Especially now that is impossible for me to hide my pregnancy any longer.” She caressed her belly. “We tried to keep it quiet as long as we could, but with triplets, it’s a lost cause.”

  Martina looked at the radiant woman before her and felt a pang of sadness. She shifted on the chair, then leaned over the tray Alexander had left on the coffee table, and refilled her cup to have something to do. She asked Ophelia and Ravenna if they wanted more tea, but they were both still sipping theirs.

  “Do you have kids?” Ravenna caught her looking at her belly.

  “No, I can’t have kids. Being barren is the reason why my marriage became an inferno.” Whenever asked that question, she never went farther than “No, I don’t.” For some reason, she felt she could talk to those two strangers.

  “I’m sorry.” Ravenna’s eyes became misty.

  Ophelia touched Martina’s shoulder. “That’s tough, but it’s not the reason why your marriage failed.”

  “I know.” She gave Ophelia a half smile. “It’s what I always say to the women I represent. ‘It’s not your fault.’ But when you are in an abusive relationship, you always think it’s your fault or that you deserve to be treated that way. It’s hard to change that mentality.”

  “When I was young, I almost married an abusive man.” Ravenna looked at the front of the gym, where the glass door was, but her eyes seemed out of focus, her fingers playing with the long row of pearls around her neck.

  “What happened?” Martina put the cup back on the saucer.

  “A friend of mine inadvertently helped me out.” Ravenna blinked, and her face lit as the sound of the opening door announced that Alexander had come back. “Here are my croissants.”

  He sauntered toward them, proudly holding on his hands a wrapped paper tray. “Just out of the oven.”

  Martina smelled the distinctive aroma of fresh-baked croissants. “Well, being celebrities must have a perk or two if you can have a bar baking pastries past seven o’ clock at night.”

  Ravenna unwrapped the goodies and offered them to Martina and Ophelia. Between the three of them, they finished the entire tray, then resumed chatting. Martina missed spending time with girlfriends. Giulio had isolated her from what was left of her family and all of her friends, and even after she had run away from him, the only contact she had with women was to counsel them about their rights. She could get used to just talking again for the sake of it.

  “So, what about you and those pearls of yours?” Ophelia playfully swatted Ravenna’s knee with a glossy magazine she had taken out from her purse as they were eating.

  Martina too had noticed the long string of pearls Ravenna had been playing with nonstop.

  “Not you too!” Ravenna blushed and took the magazine from Ophelia’s hand as her eyes went to Alexander who gave her a smile that made her blush even more.

  Martina sighed, thinking that she would give anything to have what they had.

  ****

  Samuel had driven to the Acqua Acetosa athletic fields in a daze. He couldn’t have said no to Barnes, but his boss could have shown better timing, for once. Leaving Martina, even if in the hands of his most trusted friend, hadn’t felt right. She had gone through something horrific, again, and he should have stayed at her side. Even if that meant having a conversation he didn’t want to have.

  Once he had parked by the Swim Stadium, he had immediately spotted Barnes pacing back and forth on the trail, waiting for him. He sprung to a jog and reached him in no time, eager to be done with it and drive back to Alexander’s gym and Martina.

  “Walk me through the site.”

  Barnes raised an eyebrow at his poor manners, but kept any comment about them to himself. “Two homicides. One body, a man, was found a week ago, by those bushes behind the tracks. The second, a woman, turned up a few hours ago behind the north wall of the tennis stadium. The human police didn’t see any correlation between the two, but the two bodies were flagged by one of ours because they were shifters. Both pumas.”

  “Why wasn’t I called to release the man’s body?” Probably one of the aspects of his job Samuel liked the least, but interspecies protocol dictated a liaison must be present to release a body in the hands of the competent authority—in this case both the shifter brigade and the acting renegade controller.

  “Our agent realized the dead’s species only today when the woman was found and, on a hunch, he thought of checking the man’s autopsy.”

  “Good thinking.”

  They walked on one of the paths leading to the Foro Italico, the tennis stadium. The night was pleasantly warm and several athletes were still training thanks to the widespread illumination that made the place safe even at later hours.

  “Were they killed here?” Samuel looked around and found very few spots covered in darkness.

  “No, it doesn’t seem that way. They dropped the bodies here.”

  They reached a bend in the trail and continued toward the tennis stadium, then passed it and stopped behind it where a thick copse of sturdy vegetation covered the soil. The usual squalor of death permeated the place. Under a transparent white plastic sheet lay a small body. A lock of blond hair had escaped from under the sheet and danced in the nocturnal breeze. Bloody stains covered her clothes. The were-puma was wearing a loose dress with a colorful pattern.

  The contemplation of death never ceased to trigger a deep sadness within Samuel. He had not been born, but created, and would never die, yet the thought of anyone ceasing to exist left him unsettled. Sahadeva had died. Martina would die one day.

  “Are you okay?” Barnes was staring at him.

  Absentmindedly, Samuel nodded, then looked down at the dead woman whose eyes were open.

  The plastic sheet gave the dead a surreal quality, as if she were made of hard wax. For a moment, Martina’s face replaced the were-puma’s.

  Samuel blinked and willed the image away. “How was she killed?” He didn’t want to examine the body. The woman had suffered enough humiliation by being exposed without proper burial. Thankfully, the coroner had already left.

  Ludwig bent over the shifter and pointed at the side of her head. “The usual. She was stabbed in the neck with a sharp blade, then took a bullet to the heart. The autopsy will confirm it’s silver.” He lowered his aim to the woman’s midsection where blood had congealed in a larger pool. “And if that wasn’t enough, she had been a
lready hemorrhaging for the botched C-section she was submitted to just recently.”

  “She was pregnant.” He looked at the body with different eyes. The woman had been an expecting mother—for Samuel, the holiest of beings. “Was the baby found?”

  Barnes shook his head. “Both human and paranormal police have combed through the whole of the Acqua Acetosa. There’s no trace of the infant.”

  “She was killed because of the baby.” Two recent conversations came to Samuel’s mind at once. Marcus’s words about his child’s parents having died in an accident gave him an idea. “Was the other victim related to her?” He couldn’t help but think that the were-baby Sandro Denari had talked about must be this woman’s.

  “As in a couple, you mean?” Barnes passed one hand through his reddish-blond hair, then looked at the woman, a grimace on his face. “With renegades it’s difficult to assert genealogy. They live nomadic lives and usually don’t register their offspring. We can’t even assume they knew each other, even if they were both pumas. We’ll look into it, though.” The immortal’s eyes zeroed on a tall figure heading their way along a path different from the one they had used. “I can see the Controller.”

  Samuel could see him too. As tall and big as Samuel, the renegade acting controller was one of the few demons who had always treated him with a politeness rare in his species. As demons went—angels who had fully embraced their darker sides and turned into their opposites—the Controller was a nice person with a wicked sense of humor. Peter was a member of Alexander’s gym, but Samuel had never seen him sparring. Although they frequented the same places both for work and leisure, Samuel usually tried to avoid the demon. Peter reminded him of his fallen condition as much as his broken wings did. Any time Samuel saw the demon, painful memories followed him for days. Peter was the demon who had waited for him outside Sahadeva’s palace.

  “Let’s get you out of here.” The tall demon, then in charge of taking care of the fallen, looked at him without pity, but with comprehension in his eyes.

 

‹ Prev