The Last Etruscan

by Lyn Brittan

  Luca stepped away from Fanchon Marie and brought down the small butcher’s knife at such an angle that the result was immediate death and partial decapitation. A second swing completed the unhappy task. His past twenty-four hours had gone from bad to perfect to complete shit. The thought dizzied him, and he felt unbalanced.

  “Cara, issue a spell removing any forensic traces of us and then we can leave this place. Next we will—”

  Chapter Eight

  “Next we’ll what?” Fanchon Marie turned her head in time to see Luca collapse to the floor. Her throat lurched in panic. “Luca? LUCA!” Fanchon Marie checked his pulse – present, but thready. “Don’t do this to me. Please. I need you to be okay.” She yanked the gris gris from her neck and put it around his. In this state, he’d need the magical protection more than she would.

  She had to get him out of there. A lot less simple. She tried to pull him to the doorway. A hard job for most men to lift his oversized frame, nearly impossible for her. Nearly. There’s something to be said for adrenaline and the prospect of being caught in a broken in apartment with an unconscious man and a dead girl, does wonders for motivation. Using her feet against the wall as extra propulsion, Fanchon Marie leaned until she forced him to flip over and dug in his pockets.

  Jackpot. Blackberry. She scrolled down the contact list until she found the only person she knew she could trust.

  “Gregorio? Hi, it’s me, Fanchon Marie. Emergency. Big freak out emergency. Walk two blocks east of my house until you see a pastry shop. Get to the apartments on the third floor above it and please hurry. Luca’s down.”

  Fanchon Marie alternated between pacing and crying over Luca’s body for the next ten minutes. She met them at the door. She could barely speak by the time Gregorio arrived with more of Luca’s men.

  “Mulló. We followed the scream and the call of magic. I guess between all the rituals he burned himself out. I—”

  “More than you know. A Rom Baro might, and I do mean might, have to deal with lost souls once every few years. Usually no one is stupid enough to keep trying it. But to handle as many as he did a few hours ago, I’m surprised he stood this long. He’s had a lot to handle lately,” he said, finally looking directly at her face. It wasn’t a kind look. In fact, it was downright nasty.

  Unbelievable. “Are you seriously taking the time out to chastise me for being somewhat iffy about a forced marriage?”

  “No. You both carried the weight of the world on your shoulders, for different reasons. I hope the two of you realize that you can at least share the load now.” Gregorio rose, lifting Luca’s upper body. Another man, Stephan, carried his legs. “You need each other.”

  “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

  Gregorio didn’t stop his march out the door. “He does, and that’s enough for me. For now.”

  Inside the car, Fanchon Marie and Gregorio took turns trying to rev up Luca’s power supply. In the end, nothing worked. The presence of a pulse showed the only signs of life. “Why is this happening?” She glanced in time to see Luca’s number two roll his eyes. “If you have something to say, spit it out.”

  “What would you like me to say, future Beluni? That if this wedding had happened years ago, his rule would be cemented by now? If he hadn’t been spending so much time worried about your delicate sensibilities that he could have focused on and probably settled this Breznik issue?”

  “Don’t you dare judge me. I didn’t plan to have this wedding at all!”

  “Neither did he. I think you forget that sometimes.” Gregorio settled back into the car seat. He said nothing more to her for the duration of the trip.

  ****

  When they reached the house, she tried to follow the men who carried Luca up to his bedroom, only to be stopped by Sophie. The family maid raised her hand, looking for all the world as if she wanted to strike Fanchon Marie across the face. With a hammer. She wasn’t in the mood for this b.s. “Get outta my way, old lady.”

  “What have you done to him?”

  “Excuse me?” Fanchon Marie rolled her eyes in disbelief. “This man has been through hell, and I’m going to go upstairs and take care of him. Me. His future wife.”

  “I won’t let you touch him with your marimé Vodou magic.”

  “You try to stop me, and you won’t touch anything else ever again.” Fanchon Marie brought every dirty hex she knew to the forefront of her mind and silently dared the woman to give her any excuse to use one. The wizened creature had never given Fanchon Marie a reason for the animosity between them, but she’d be damned if she’d lower herself to ask. Besides, she had a pretty good idea why already. Sophie made it clear during their earlier, short encounters: she hated anything and anyone not of the Roma. For her beloved prince to marry a Vodou woman, well, he may as well be marrying a pack beast from the fields.

  Sophie s stomped her way up the stairs. “I have taken care of him since before he was born,” she said, wringing her hands in her skirts. “I’m not about to stop now.” Her accent thickened as she grew more passionate. “You do not have sway over me. I will do as I please.”

  The woman pressed her last nerve. Time to pull out the big guns...and hope to God they were properly loaded. “I order you to stay downstairs, and I make this order in the name of the Rom Baro.”

  Sophie whipped around and Fanchon Marie took a step back from the red faced and wild-eyed woman. The two stared at each other with cold determination. Fanchon Marie filled the silence first. “As the future mistress of this household, it is well within my rights and you know it. Back off.”

  The woman’s mouth dropped so far that Fanchon Marie could have parked a car in there. Or a fist. The former was a good image, the latter a real possibility. With an exasperated sigh, Sophie clipped her as she mowed past. Fanchon Marie didn’t take time to gloat though, Luca lay on a bed upstairs, and he needed her.

  ****

  Rose and purple colored sun rays woke her up the next day. She stretched out of the same position she’d been locked in all night: curled up and sobbing beside an unconscious Luca. His well-being consumed most of her thoughts. Gregorio, however, came in a close second. She couldn’t get Gregorio’s words out of her head. You need each other.

  The man hadn’t lied, and it hit her like a ton of bricks. She needed him. She wanted him. She felt safe around him. Fanchon Marie flopped her head back on the pillow and rubbed soft circles into his chest. She hoped he needed her, too.

  She hurried to the bathroom to refill the water basin. Just as she’d done so many times during the night, she put the sponge to his head and wiped away sweat in an attempt to cool him off. His fever had yet to descend from its baking hot levels, and nothing she’d done helped in any lasting way. This was magic’s hollow. The emptiness of one drained of energy. There was no cure but time, no medicine but the ticking of the clock.

  “Vous doit se rèveiller,” she whispered in his ear. Luca shivered and moaned, but otherwise, his condition did not change. “S’il vous plaît?” Luca’s head turned to the sound of her voice. His eyes though, remained closed. “All right, Mr. Stubborn, take your time. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

  With no wish to leave the bed, Fanchon Marie stretched over to get her phone. She made a note to herself to send anonymous flowers to the young wife’s husband, once her body had been discovered. She wondered if that woman’s face would ever leave her mind.

  “Fanchon Marie? You awake?” Gregorio’s voice bellowed from the other side of the door. “There was a situation at your house. We need you out here pretty quick.”

  She ignored him.

  “I heard the water come on, woman. Come downstairs. Now. If you’re going to be the Beluni, act like it.”

  She wasn’t going anywhere. “It will have to wait. I’m not leaving him!” she yelled though the closed door. And she didn’t intend to. Her main concern laid right next to her one the bed.

  The sound of Gregorio’s chuckle wafted through the door.
“I’m glad to hear you talk that way but, we need to know if anything is missing. What happened yesterday reeks of a setup. Someone needed you out of your house. We have to figure out why.” When she didn’t immediately respond, he started up again. “I understand that you want—”

  Her violent wrenching open of the bedroom door stopped him mid-sentence. “Get Sophie.”

  The bat must have been hanging from one of the many rafters. As soon as her name fell from Fanchon Marie’s lips, she appeared. Ugh. She tried to bite back her disgust. No matter what she thought of the old hag, Sophie cared for Luca completely.

  “I changed the water in the basin a few minutes ago,” she said to her. Wipe him down if he gets too hot. Do not leave his side. You’re a dead woman if you do.”

  “I never will,” Sophie said. “I never have.”

  She tightly nodded to Fanchon Marie before closing the door behind her. Still dressed from last night, she walked downstairs behind Gregorio and towards the garage. She wanted this over and done with.

  “I thought about what you said yesterday.”

  “And?”

  “And yes, you’re right. Just try to extend some of those considerations my way, too. Okay?”

  “You have my word, but that’s not what we need to be focused on right now.” For the second time in as many minutes, he looked at her with something in his eyes that she took for tenderness.. “Your home is in pretty bad shape. Long story short, it’s been ransacked. You need to prepare yourself for it.”

  “I don’t care. I want to get in, get out, and get back to Luca.”

  He smiled lightly, but didn’t speak.

  Upon arrival, she found out that she cared more than she thought. The faceless intruders destroyed her sanctuary. Trashed it. Shards of broken glass from cracked family portraits littered the floor. The furniture had been ripped as if someone had hoped to find hidden treasures inside the cushions.

  Blinking away tears, she went to her jewelry case and cried with delight to find her ancestral pieces still there. What were they, whomever they were, looking for? She spent two hours going over everything, again and again. It looked like the wreckage of a tornado, though nothing was gone. Her stuff was present, but destroyed.

  None of the electronics were taken, and the silver hadn’t been removed from the cupboards. “I- I don’t know, Gregorio. I don’t see where anything important is missing. I dunno. It’s all a little too intense. Maybe I overlooked something.”

  Gregorio nodded towards the balcony. “Come over here. Let’s get some air.” They exited to find they weren’t alone. A large, black cat peered at them from the attached ledge.

  “Really?” he asked, the faint smile back in place. “You couldn’t have been more inventive? Black cats are so overdone.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That thing’s not mine. I’m not a litter box type of gal.”

  “Oh.” Without a word of warning, Gregorio pulled out a gun from the interior of his jacket and shot the cat in one single move.

  “Are you insane?” Not liking litter boxes and wanted cats shot were worlds apart. “What kind of a psycho are you?” She felt bile rising in her throat and started backing away.

  “Ease off and relax. That cat is enchanted.”

  “Was. That cat was enchanted.”

  “Fine. Was. Is this your first time seeing it?” Fanchon Marie’s nod seemed to have soothed his nerves. “Good. Better than if it’d been hanging around for some time. It was probably sent to see what’s been happening here. In the absence of—”

  Below, a screaming Luca cut off their conversation.

  “What the hell?”

  Seconds later, Luca rushed over to place an arm around Fanchon Marie’s waist. The poor man tried to respond but couldn’t get a word in. “Someone breaks into her house, and you bring her here?” Luca’s hands curled into angry bowling balls by his side. “And what the hell are you shooting at?”

  “Enchanted feline. Not hers, not ours. About the other thing, well, I brought her here to find out what’s been taken. Still want to kill me?” That seemed to relax Luca’s face a bit.

  “This conversation isn’t over. We’ll finish it later.” Luca looked over the edge to see the feline below. “I think I know what he wanted.” Luca pulled a gold coin out of his pocket, larger than anyone she’d ever seen.

  “Your Touching Coin,” Gregorio said. “Fully realizing the tail kicking I deserve and may well get for saying it, thank God you were such a bitch, Fanchon Marie.”

  “Hey!”

  “Gregorio, out!”

  The grinning man held up his hand in mock surrender. “All right, all right. In all seriousness, you shouldn’t be up.”

  “When I wake up to find Sophie in a panic and my Cara gone, it gave me all the energy I needed. I have another long sleep due, but it can wait a bit. Now, give us some privacy.”

  Gregorio nodded on his way out. “I am one room away if you need me.”

  With the privacy granted, she fell into his arms. You really shouldn’t be out of your bed yet.”

  “You shouldn’t be out of my bed yet either.”

  They smiled, but she saw through his bravado. His grip around her waist wasn’t as firm as it had been in the past. Or his voice. While confident, it didn’t have the same timbre she’d come to know so well. Fanchon Marie nuzzled closer, willing her strength to somehow supplement his own reserves.

  He needed a safe distraction. She unwrapped and arm and held out her hand, palm upward in question. “The Touching Coin...may I see it? I’ve always wanted to know what one of these looked like.”

  “Of course. It belongs to you.” Luca put the coin in her palm and closed it. “The Touching Coin is a closely held secret among my people. Do you know anything about it?”

  She shook her head. “Only that every Roma has one.”

  “No, my love,” he said. “Only every male. And he is guaranteed more than one. Two coins come from his father’s treasure, inscribed with the clan seal on one side and the family name on the other. This has been our means of identification for centuries – an early passport, so to speak. The one I wear under my neck never comes off.”

  Fanchon Marie flipped the heavy coin in her hand. “This one is for me?”

  “Yes. In a way, it is me. And whoever has the other coin has power over me. It is meant to be given to our promised brides to set a foundation of mutual trust and loyalty.”

  “But since I was being a bitch, as Gregorio so lovingly put it—”

  “I couldn’t trust you with it until now.”

  Fanchon Marie’s heart contracted. “I can’t, Luca,” she said, pressing the coin back into his hand. He refused to take it, and she felt a small amount of happiness at that.

  “If I cannot trust you with this, I cannot trust you with anything.” Luca titled her chin to plant a kiss. “I woke up this morning, with your gris gris, your protection around my neck. I woke up feeling loved. Am I?”

  “I guess.”

  “And I guess I love you, too. Now take the damned coin before we both change our minds.”

  A crying, but laughing, Fanchon Marie leapt into Luca’s arms. “It’s simple, right? Kill the monsters, get married, and be happy. That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  Chapter Nine

  After the stunt the Morlena pulled at Fanchon Marie’s house, Luca didn’t have any problems convincing her to move to the compound before the wedding. While she occupied herself with the settling in, Luca set out to find Breznik. Stephan had traced the leader of the Morlena to Saint Louis Number 1, the oldest cemetery in New Orleans. Time to end this.

  Luca went alone. He left Gregorio and all the rest of his men, save Stephan, safely guarding Fanchon Marie with the protecting legerdemain of his home. Besides, he’d be home soon to see to his woman himself. This shouldn’t take long. Stephan came with him. Between the two of them, they ought to be able to handle one madman.

  The sun washed the tombstones in shad
es of orange and maroon as it made it’s descent behind the horizon. He shielded his eyes against the glare as the sun’s rays bounced off the marble.

  “Stay here and shoot Breznik if he comes out.”

  “I’d rather go with you, boss. I can help if something goes down.”

  “No, Stephan. If I do not make it out, I need you to make sure he dies in here, too. I am asking a lot to have you as my second, but I want you to shoot anything not named Luca exiting this place.” Almost certainly a death sentence, yet all of his men knew the risks when they joined his service. Luca tapped him on the shoulder then headed inside. “Good luck to the both of us.”

  He stalked his way to the back of the cemetery. If any mischief was to be done, it’d be born out of this oldest, darkest part. Here the vines and ivy grew heavy and thick. No flowers or handwritten notes graced these crypts. These were names that time had forgotten – people so removed from common memory that no still lived to know they were buried. Sure enough, Luca heard a soft chanting. Drawing nearer, he made out the words of a Calling Spell. “Stronzo!” It was Breznik in the flesh.

  As he turned the corner, Luca noticed five spirits wailing, begging for a return to their eternal slumber. He would give it to them. Luca pulled out the small automatic he’d put against his back. Spells are good and all, but bullets don’t suck either. Catching Breznik in the sight, he released the safety and applied a slow, steady pressure to the trigger.

  “Gotcha.” Direct hit.

  After the first bullet connected, Luca rose from his position but continued to fire shot after shot. Only idiots in movies shoot once before standing over the body. Stupid move. Shoot until you have to reload then gloat. Though at the moment, he could understand such foolish sentiments. This problem of his would soon cease to exist, and the thought brought a smile to his face.

  It took him a minute to realize that Breznik didn’t once flinch or howl in pain. Rather than fall to the ground, Breznik turned to issue a chortled, raspy laugh. That’s when Luca remembered. Breznik was a Convexer, someone who could throw a mirror image of themselves while their real body, was housed someplace else.