The Immortal Greek

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The Immortal Greek Page 12

by Monica La Porta


  She entered her car, sat, then lowered her window and brought her hand to her temple to mock salute him. He shook his head and ambled to his Volvo. They would talk as soon as they were back from Santa Severa. He had every intention to explain to her why he had stopped. While leaving, he waved at the two cars now stationed in front of the house. He and Ravenna crossed the city encountering the usual traffic. The night sky was partially illuminated by the rising moon hidden by heavy clouds. Alexander let the windows down and breathed in the scent of the calm before the storm. It would rain soon and it would be a downpour.

  After leaving the Raccordo Anulare and entering the Aurelia Road, the ancient Roman highway that still connected most of Italy, Alexander was immediately aware of the tail following Ravenna and called her. “You got company.”

  “I know. I’ll get rid of them. See you at the castle.” Her voice was calm and pleasant. Too calm and too pleasant.

  He knew a woman sounding so calm must be furious, and regretted not having stopped her and forced her to listen to him back at her house. She hung up before he could tell her “Be careful.” He hadn’t forgotten she wasn’t called the Enforcer for nothing, but she was angry. His heart drummed with pride when she eased back and forth between lanes, skirting and passing cars with an elegance that resembled dancing.

  Her tail tried to keep up with her, and they had to expose themselves. Alexander let them pass him, then stayed a safe distance behind. The two men driving the small convertible BMW were too busy following Ravenna to notice him, whereas he had a few seconds to look at them. He didn’t know those men, but at first glance, they didn’t look like vampires or weres. Driving at a speed that reached and surpassed two hundred kilometers per hour, Ravenna hung a right at the very last moment and exited the freeway. Her tail almost missed the exit, and the sound and the smell of braking filled the night. Alexander had to slow down to maintain enough space between his Volvo and the BMW not to arouse the men’s suspicions, but now that he had seen she could compete on a race track, his skin was tingling with excitement. He couldn’t wait for this to be over and have her in his arms, naked. He would kiss her anger away until she wouldn’t remember her own name.

  Ravenna had exited at Cerveteri, one of the marine cities along the Latium Coast, now vacated of all the summer tourists swarming from Rome. The streets were quiet compared to the state they would have been in a month earlier, and Ravenna drove at breakneck speed along the main road. She passed through a red light without a moment of hesitation. Alexander’s hands gripped the steering wheel so hard he left a dent in the leather cover. His excitement turned into fear. Instead of slowing down, when she had entered the city limits, her driving had become reckless.

  Heart crammed inside his throat, he called her and let the phone ring until the voicemail answered. “What are you doing?” He wanted to shake her and he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to make love to her wherever they would stop their cars.

  She took a narrow one-way road in the opposite direction, the tires of her R8 skidding on the cobblestones. At a distance, he thought he saw a spark of flames under her car. The BMW in front of him pulled to a hard stop when a car entered the road from their right of way, filling the space. Alexander had to remember to keep his distance from the tail. “What the heck are you doing?” He swore a long streak of blasphemies both in Greek and Latin, then remembered to close his call.

  Ravenna had just jumped another red light and was ahead of her tail and him. She turned right and left several times, until she lost them completely. The tail drove in circles for a few kilometers looking for her, then the two men entered the Aurelia Road heading back to Rome with great haste. Alexander swore, but instead of driving toward Santa Severa, he kept following them, hoping to find who they were and why they had followed Ravenna.

  ****

  At Santa Severa, Ravenna stopped her Audi by the side of the parking lot that looked over the sandy beach a few meters below. The entry to the castle was on her left and she could see the small army of policemen and the ambulance parked just before the archway. She lowered her head to the steering wheel and started laughing, considering a cold swim in the Mediterranean Sea was what the doctor would order for her frayed nerves. Her senses were overwhelmed by the excitement of what had almost happened at her house and the ride, and she couldn’t wait for Alexander to arrive. She had been so angry at him for leaving her like that, wanting and bereft, and she had been even angrier at herself for giving him the power to hurt her. Then she had seen the tail following her and had heard the concern in his voice when he had called her, and somehow her anger had dimmed. The ride and the adrenaline rush had helped. She had showed off for him, wanting to impress him more than losing those two idiots who had never had a chance to keep up with her. Now, she felt high and more alive than ever, ready to explain to him he wasn’t allowed to tease her any longer. She wouldn’t let him.

  A knock on her window made her jump.

  “Miss? I must ask you to vacate the premises.” A policewoman in her thirties was looking at her, holding her flashlight down toward the ground not to blind her.

  Ravenna lowered her window and lifted both hands. “My name is Ravenna Del Sarto and I’m here for the investigation.” She pointed at the glove compartment. “May I take my badge out?”

  The policewoman nodded and directed the flashlight’s beam toward the glove compartment. She eyed the badge Ravenna showed her, then tilted her chin toward the castle’s entry. “Okay, Miss Del Sarto, come with me. Your colleague is waiting for you inside.”

  Still riding her adrenaline rush, Ravenna exited her car on unsteady legs, her heels sinking low in the gravel covering the ground. She was eager to see Alexander. She followed the woman a step behind, straightening her shirt and pulling her skirt down. By the time they crossed the archway and entered the castle, Ravenna felt she could bear Alexander’s smoldering gaze without melting at his feet. She would show him what kind of woman Ravenna Del Sarto was.

  Ahead, she saw a crowd of uniforms entering and leaving a narrow alley on the right. The yellow light from the sconces on the brick walls wasn’t enough to illuminate the whole scene, and she kept looking over her shoulder for Alexander’s tall frame. She anticipated the moment she would turn and see him walking toward her. Maybe they could steal a moment. They could hide in one of the less-illuminated alleys she had just passed. The medieval walls were thick enough to conceal them if they flattened behind an entryway. Imagining his lips on hers and his hands under her shirt made her pause in her stride.

  The policewoman stopped and gave her a puzzled look. “Miss?”

  Ravenna blinked and let a big gulp of air into her lungs, then resumed her walk, her legs weaker than before.

  Meanwhile, they had reached an arch, and the woman asked to be let through. Ravenna passed under the gateway and was welcomed by eerie silence on the other side. Two spotlights illuminated the gray cobblestone floor and the dirty construction tarp thrown over a lump from under which an arm and a leg showed. A black pool of already-drying blood seeped from under the body and had filled the cracks between the cobblestones. The scene reminded her strongly of the one she had witnessed a few days earlier at Alexander’s house.

  “You’ve finally arrived.” A tired-looking Malina waved for her to pass under the yellow line separating her from the rest of the crowd. “Where’s Alexander?”

  Ravenna shook her head, hoping her disappointment at not seeing him wouldn’t show. “Could you identify him?” She stepped closer to the body.

  Instead of answering her, Malina, hands shaking lightly, picked up a corner of the tarp and raised it to show her the victim’s face.

  Ravenna took a good look at the man, but she didn’t know him. “Who is he?”

  Malina let the tarp down and leaned to raise the man’s hand for Ravenna to get a look at the ring he wore. Memories flooded her back at the sight of the sigil on the jewel, and Malina’s subdued demeanor made immediate sense to Ravenna.
/>   The man wore the same ring Tommaso had worn all his immortal life. “Paolo De Renzi.” Ravenna had met the man only once at an immortal party and only for a moment, then forgot all about him. Although Paolo had been turned around the medieval times, he was a friend of Tommaso. They belonged to the same immortal faction and had dabbled in Council politics until Tommaso’s death. She had known it would have meant a great deal to her brother if she had joined them, yet she had always refused to be part of their group since Malina was one of the affiliates. Tommaso had even commissioned a similar ring for Ravenna; it had her initial over two swords and the symbol of infinity. Exactly like the ring she was staring at.

  For a while—during the eighteen hundreds—Paolo De Renzi had been Malina’s companion. Ravenna saw the pain etched in her ex-friend’s eyes and something moved inside of her despite all her anger and resentment toward the woman. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Malina raised her chin to look at her and nodded. “That man over there”—she pointed at a caretaker who was talking to a policeman just outside of the yellow tape—“found him while he was cleaning this area.” She looked behind her at the open door of the three-story building at their back, then up at its roof. “Paolo walked the four flights of stairs, reached the roof landing, then leaped out of it to crash here. I checked, nobody moved him, and from the way he landed, I know he wasn’t pushed. He killed himself.” Malina raised her right hand to her face, and caressed it, pressing her palm over her eyes, then shrugged.

  ****

  Alexander carefully followed the BMW as it left the Raccordo Anulare and entered Prati neighborhood. Once inside Rome, the car slowed down and merged with the Saturday night traffic. Among so many cars crowding the streets, Alexander had to redouble his efforts not to lose them. Once or twice he wondered if they had spotted him, but their pace didn’t show they had. The BMW soon entered Trastevere and turned toward the Ghetto.

  A neighborhood block party was in full swing in the streets, and it was impossible to drive without stopping at every crossway for the sea of people strolling around. After unfruitfully waiting for more than ten minutes for the road to clear ahead of him, Alexander had to call off his chase and turned around.

  A call chimed in as he was heading toward the Aurelia Road once again.

  “Why aren’t you here?” Ravenna sounded pissed off.

  “I knew you would miss me.” He heard a short intake of breath from the other side and imagined she was counting before answering back to him. He smiled. “Followed your tail for a while, but lost them. I’m coming.”

  “Don’t bother. The coroner arrived and the corpse has been removed. There’s nothing else to do here.” The roar of the Audi’s engine came to life. “I’m going home. Good night.”

  “Good night. See you tomorrow.” Disappointment hit him, but he took a right at the first intersection and turned around. Usually, driving was his cure-it-all approach to any of his moods. If he was happy, he would take one of his sports cars out for a fast ride through the countryside. Sometimes, he drove all the way to Amalfi, just to race up and down the Coast with his Lamborghini. If he was upset, he would reach for one of his Bugattis and drive up north to France or Germany. When he was mad, he would drive his Lotus to one of the many illegal nocturnal races that took place all over Rome, and test his reflexes until his whole body tired from the exertion of keeping his mind focused.

  He hadn’t encountered a single emotion driving wouldn’t make better. Until that very moment, when he only wished to be home already. Once he left the Volvo in the garage, he strode to the cellar without entering his house, determined to relax despite himself and, if necessary, even sleep in the tuff brick chamber. He selected one of the vintage bottles he normally kept for Ophelia and briefly wondered if he should call her. A glance at his Rolex told him she wouldn’t be happy to receive his call at two o’clock in the morning. She was either sleeping alone or with company. Marcus would be wide awake, but equally unavailable, probably remodeling his house or busy in other mundane activities only couples would enjoy together. He opened the bottle and poured a discreet amount of it in a big tumbler better suited for whiskey. He let the deep red wine whirl around the glass, then heavily sat at the bar and tasted a few sips. The vintage was excellent, its bouquet the perfect combination of sweet and tangy. He could smell the orange blossom and the hint of sage. Another sip, then he let the tumbler down, unable to take any joy from degusting a wine made only in a limited amount, of which he had almost the entire production for the year two thousand and twelve.

  “Sir?”

  Alexander raised his head from the bar. He hadn’t heard his majordomo knock. “Pietro, I told you hundreds of times already. You don’t have to wait for me—”

  Pietro pushed the door open and entered the cellar, a smile tugging the corner of his lips. “You have a guest waiting for you upstairs in the Japanese studio.”

  “A guest?” Alexander’s head swam although he hadn’t even started drinking. He ran outside, and in passing Pietro, he remembered to thank him and send him to sleep. He flew up the stairs, his heart beating so fast, he could hear it in his throat. The moment he saw Ravenna standing at the door of the studio as if considering to leave, his senses overloaded.

  “Alexander—” Her eyes were wide and she was panting. She was soaking wet. Outside, the downpour he had predicted was bathing Rome with buckets of water. Her black shirt was stuck to her skin and rose and fell as her chest heaved.

  He closed the door behind him and strode toward her as she instinctively backed away and hit the desk. After having thought at length of all the things he would say to her, her sight was enough to make him forget all of it. His body demanding fulfillment, one look at her so vulnerable and frail, and he remembered why he hadn’t made her his earlier. Ravenna deserved slow and tender. He already knew this first time wouldn’t be that slow or that tender—and not even on a bed, but he would try, even if it killed him not to pin her beneath him and lose himself in her that same moment.

  Containing his hunger with a force of will he didn’t know he possessed—he had never in his long life curbed his enthusiasm and always took what he wanted from a woman—he took Ravenna in his arms and leaned over her to take possession of her lips. She was soft under him and he explored her mouth, breathing through her, savoring her taste, trembling as she trembled. Her hands had circled his neck while he freed her shirt from the constraint of her unyielding pencil skirt, water running down in rivulets from between his shaking fingers. He reached under the shirt and traced the contour of her body, skimming the side of the thin lace bra he wanted to rip off. His want was so strong he couldn’t breathe anymore. She shivered and he lowered his mouth to her throat, then opened the first three buttons of her blouse and brushed the swell of her breasts. Again, he steadied his hands from tearing her clothes to pieces, his heart galloping fast. She pulled him closer, her movements frantic as she passed her hands all over his back, bunching his shirt.

  At Ravenna’s moan, he yanked the hem of her skirt up over her thighs and pushed himself between her knees. Her eyes shot open and he saw his own raw desire reflected in them. He reached under her skirt with both hands and grabbed at either side of her panties to lower them past her knees, her calves, her ankles, as he left a trail of kisses on her shivering skin. When he stood, she sought his mouth for a searing kiss. Then she was tearing at his shirt, pushing down his jeans, pulling him toward her as she reclined on the desk. He hastily wiped the desk clear of the stationary set, the pens, the desk clock, whatever was behind her. Objects crashed loudly on the marble floor as he lowered himself into her. They gasped at the same moment. Their bodies reacted and sent them into a frenzied dance. He stroked her and she silently urged him to quicken his pace, their mouths hungrily devouring each other. She scratched his back with her long fingernails and buried her face against the crook of his shoulder, where she kissed and bit him, intensifying his pleasure tenfold. Discovering she could be as passionate
and carnal as he sent him over the edge. He forgot about tender and slow, and let his body ride the wave of sensations that blinded him as she repeatedly screamed his name. One moment after her, he too reached a climax so intense his heart stopped beating for a count.

  Afterward, they looked at the destruction they had created in the room and laughed. Then they kissed and caressed each other for a while, and soon they were ready to make love again. Despite Ravenna’s bites, Alexander managed to slow his movements enough to be able to whisper her name in between kisses. He felt her pleasure building and fueled his until they both screamed one another’s names. This second time, it took them several minutes to recover.

  “I think I should go.” Ravenna had tried her best to compose herself, but both her shirt and her skirt were wrinkled beyond repair. Her hair was all tousled and her mouth was red and swollen.

  “Stay.” He had removed his shirt altogether—she had torn it beyond repair—and raised his jeans up to his waist, but hadn’t bothered buttoning them. Then he had lowered himself on the leather chair, unable to stand. He reached out toward her and she accepted his invite and sat on his lap. His heart swelled with a sense of deep satisfaction at the rightness of the moment, and he kissed her softly, thoroughly and unhurriedly, until they relaxed in each other arms.

  Later, he pulled her up with him, took her hand, and led her upstairs to his apartments. Taking a woman had never felt earth-shattering before. He always took care of his lovers, and took pleasure in return, but he had never felt his consciousness melt with the one person he was making love to. It seemed right that she was the first one to sleep in his bed.

  At her puzzled look when he showed her the door opening into his private wing, he smiled. “I’ll explain later.” He erased her frown with an intimate caress that made her melt in his arms and had him hurrying upstairs, but it was to no avail. He pinned her against the wall before he reached his bedroom.

 

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