Night Train to Venice

by Caroline Valdez

  Malcolm said, “No time to explain now. Come with me while I stuff things in my backpack.”

  Alex was on his cell making new hotel arrangements when they entered Malcolm’s bedroom.

  Malcolm embraced Nick, rocking with him for a few seconds. His kiss was quick. “I don’t want you to think I’m not happy to see you, but we’re in some danger here. I’m sorry you’ve walked into it, but now you’ll have to stick with us.”

  In eight minutes, they were standing in the foyer of the suite, backpacks in place. Malcolm had shoved Nick’s small bag into his pack.

  “Our goal is to reach the roof,” Alex said. “There are abandoned stairs that have not been used since the palazzo was remodeled. Nick, listen to Malcolm and me. Be as quiet as possible. I will go first, then Dante, then you, then Malcolm. Your life may depend on doing exactly what we tell you to do. We will answer any questions you have once we reach our new lodgings.”

  Malcolm said, “Do you understand?”

  Dante added, “I trust them with my life, Nick. You do the same. Okay?”

  Malcolm saw the blood drain from Nick’s face, and he leaned in to brush a kiss across his lips. “After this, you’ll feel foolish because you were afraid.”

  “Afraid of what?” Nick asked.

  No one answered.

  “Leave the lights on. Ready?” Alex asked. When they nodded, he cracked the hall door an inch and listened.

  Malcolm felt him extend his senses to pick up on any heightening of the threat he’d detected.

  “Someone’s coming for us. Hurry!” Alex stepped out and motioned them to follow.

  Malcolm put a reassuring hand on Nick’s shoulder until they reached a door at the far end of a dusty, deserted corridor. Alex opened the door, again pausing to be sure they were still safe, and then lifted a hand for them to follow. Malcolm squeezed Nick’s shoulder before releasing it as they reached the narrow stairs then climbed single file.

  Alex and Dante were already on the roof when Nick joined them. Malcolm closed the door and then moved fast to stand beside Nick and wrap an arm around his shoulder to anchor him. Despite the thick jacket Dante had loaned Nick, he shivered as a strong, cold wind battered them.

  “I have you,” Malcolm said in a calm tone. “Don’t look down. Shut your eyes if high places bother you. Alex and I are going to fly the two of you down.”

  “Oh, God, no,” Nick cried, as he realized why Dante and Malcolm had talked about trust. He tried to back up, but Malcolm held him so tight he couldn’t move.

  Standing beside the vampire, Dante had put an arm around Alex’s waist and Alex’s arm was closing around Dante’s. Dante turned his head just enough to catch Nick’s eye. “We’ve done this before. It’s more fun if you watch.”

  “Fun? Holy Mother of Jesus, how could this be fun?”

  Malcolm thought Nick was going to pass out as he watched Alex and Dante step off the roof into thin air.

  “Do the same. Lock your arms around my waist. No, no, slide one arm under my backpack,” he ordered. The moment he felt Nick’s arms wrap around him, he did the same, but grabbed both Nick’s hands in an iron grip so as not to lose him if he let go. “Hold on tight.”

  As he jumped with his burden into the black night, he felt Nick bury his face in his shoulder. Malcolm enjoyed the warm weight of Nick at his side and the feel of his strong arms. Most important of all, he reveled in the trust Nick had in him. That leap of faith had taken a warrior’s courage.

  “Too bad you’re missing the lights over the city at night. They’re like fine jewels, with a glow you’ll not find elsewhere. You’d think we were Peter Pan and his Brit boys flying over London to Neverland.” He was rewarded with a slight shift of Nick’s body as he lifted his head. “Good. I’m glad you’re looking. This is better than being in a plane because they fly high and miss the small details.”

  Below and ahead, Alex hovered midflight and conversed with Dante, then took a left turn followed by a right. In seconds, he’d reached their destination and was drifting to a dark alley. Touchdown was gentle. Easy. Dante released him and stepped away.

  “Don’t let go until our feet are firmly on the ground,” Malcolm advised his companion. And then they were there, and the cold night air hit his back as Nick’s hands let go and he walked unsteadily toward Dante to take up his assigned place behind him and in front of Malcolm.

  Dante’s laugh was low and quiet. “Didn’t I say?”

  The two men made fists and touched knuckles.

  “That must’ve replaced ‘Gimme five,’ and hand slaps,” Malcolm commented to Alex.

  “Always something new. Tough to keep up,” Alex said as he grinned.

  Just then, a dark bundle in a slight recess in the alley moved and a man emerged. He swayed as he stood and stared at them. “Oh, Jesus, oh, Jesus, Jesus.” He made the sign of the cross over and over.

  Under his breath, Malcolm said, “Guess who he saw descend from the heavens like dark avenging angels?”

  “Damn,” was Alex’s response.

  “Whew.” Dante pinched his nose.

  “Which wine vat did he fall into?” said Nick.

  “Which garbage dump has he slept in?” Dante asked.

  Alex said in an undertone, “Malcolm?”

  “On it.” Malcolm approached the man, who was leaning against the wall in a posture of abject terror, the whites of his eyes wide in the darkness. With a gentle touch, Malcolm placed a cold hand on each side of the man’s face and looked directly into his eyes. He spoke softly, the words rising and falling in a lilting cadence. “Ah, my good friend, you’ve had far too much wine. Way too much. It’s addled your thoughts and played tricks with your mind. No one will harm you. No harm can come to you. Nothing you see here is real. Rest now. Sleep. Wake refreshed with the dawn.”

  The man slid down the wall and sat. Malcolm edged him into a sleeping position and covered him with the dirty blankets he’d been huddled under.

  Dante spoke near Nick’s ear. “Malcolm’s an exceptional hypnotist. He’s not even speaking Italian, but he’s put the drunk under. Could have had him standing on his head if he’d wanted. Tomorrow, when the man wakens, he won’t remember us. Won’t even have a hangover.”

  Alex’s voice cut through the blackness. “I did not see or sense him in the dark because he was not a threat to us. Of course, having seen us, he is now a threat. What luck that Malcolm is so skillful in this. Otherwise, we would have had to kill him, and it’s always difficult to get rid of a body. Come. We need to hurry.”

  He gave no indication he’d heard Nick’s sharp intake of breath.

  §§§§

  Earlier, dressed in a heavy seaman’s coat because pigeon shit had ruined his leather jacket, Derek had resumed his post. Relief rushed through him when he spotted his prey again. He hit the button on his radio. “They’re returning to the hotel.” After several minutes, he reported, “The light’s on in their suite. I’m taking up position in the lobby now.”

  There he nodded to the desk clerk, whom he’d tipped earlier to allow him to warm himself by the huge fireplace. Twenty minutes later, keeping his voice low and his back to the desk, he reported in again. “A stranger, a fourth man, just enquired at the desk for their room number and has taken the elevator up. He’s carrying a small bag, and I suspect he may be here to take delivery of the jewels.”

  His superior said, “Then we won’t wait. All units move in and prepare to enter on Derek’s command.”

  The desk clerk had bent over to retrieve something from beneath the counter, so Derek entered the elevator. Pierre and another man joined him. He acknowledged them with a nod and pressed the button to the third floor with a gloved finger so as not to leave prints. After the doors closed, he said, “Ready?”

  The men unbuttoned their coats and showed their weapons. He nodded his approval. Waiting for them in the corridor when the elevator arrived were four more men. They’d come by the stairs. Derek nodded in satisfaction. Seven woul
d be enough to overcome the four they would surprise.

  The light was still on when they waited in silence as one of the team of seven picked the lock.

  “Masks,” Derek said, and they pulled on elaborate carnivale masks. Since they were in Venice, where people sometimes wore them on the street or to parties, it wouldn’t be unusual to walk around masked. It didn’t have to be carnival time to see masked people. On his signal, they swept silently into the suite, stun guns and revolvers at the ready as they proceeded to search every room.

  Expletives burst from the Pierre. “It’s empty! There’s no one here. No sign they’ve even been here, except a few damp hand towels and a small stock of food. They’ve packed up and left.”

  Enraged, Derek almost screamed at the men. “They’ve escaped, and we had every possibility covered. That means someone left his post! Which one of you?”

  One by one, they shook their heads. Pierre said, “No one went anywhere. We were all in place as ordered. Why this little operation even happened when it wasn’t part of our plans is beyond me.”

  Guilt because he’d been the one who’d deserted his post earlier made it easy for Derek to project this laxness on the others. He’d been terrified he’d never see their prey again and his boss—Marco somebody—would find out what he’d done. In the end, he was the one who had caused the boss to order this useless raid. His head would be the one to roll. The other members of the team wouldn’t forget his seeming ineptness either.

  If they’d waited until the fourth man had collected the jewels and left the hotel, then accosted him and taken his bag, they wouldn’t have had a courier to torture to find out when the pickup of the next delivery was to be and where. Only the couriers would have that information.

  Why they’d sent three men to do the job of one was a puzzle, and it made his job harder. He gripped his revolver so hard he was sure its imprint on his hand would be permanent. This hadn’t been Plan A. Once they executed the original plan, they’d have both collections of gems and, by God, the three couriers would pay for this when he caught them.

  Chapter Seven

  Nick was shaking as Alex’s words drummed in his skull. A wave of fatigue rolled over him. Kill the drunk? What kind of shit have I gotten myself into? Maybe they’ll do away with me to prevent me from exposing them. Realizing it was too late to back out, he straightened, reminded himself to breathe, and followed Dante out of the alley.

  Alex said, “I reserved separate rooms for each of you, a suite for me. It should be safer if we are not booked together. If whoever is after us looks for a party of four, they won’t find one.”

  They checked in individually, waiting in the alley until it was each person’s turn to approach the desk. They’d agreed to meet in Alex’s suite at a certain hour, but not to arrive together.

  As Nick checked in, he had the feeling someone had eyes on him. He shook it off. Malcolm was behind him in the shadows outside, observing through the lobby window. It felt like a secure safety net. But he felt strangely alone and vulnerable as he entered his room, which was a notch down from the expense of the other hotel. It was nice, but not as richly furnished. He felt hot after the flight, and he removed Dante’s jacket. He threw water on his face and washed it and his hands with the floral scented soap provided. He leaned on the edge of a marble sink streaked with golds and browns, and thought. For now, there was nothing for him to do but move straight ahead and continue to trust Malcolm. He reached for a towel.

  At the appointed time, he looked both ways down the corridor to be sure it was empty and made his way to Alex’s suite. He gave the agreed upon number of raps and quickly slipped inside when the door opened. When he saw Malcolm in the room, relief flooded him. He didn’t know yet about the other two, but him he trusted.

  “How?” He was asking how he got here before he did.

  “Flew,” Malcolm said with a smile.

  Nick returned the jacket to Dante, who offered him a small bottle of whiskey from the wet bar. Nick took it eagerly, uncapping it and letting the sweet, sharp heat slide down his throat and settle in his belly. “Thanks.”

  Alex drew out a chair from the desk, turned the back toward them and straddled the seat.

  Nick saw it as an unconscious gesture of his power in their small group. Malcolm sat next to Nick on a brown leather couch and put his arm on the back behind his shoulders, his fingers sometimes stroking his neck.

  Malcolm began with, “When we met in New Orleans, did I tell you what business I was in?”

  Nick shook his head. His muscles tensed.

  “Did you find out when you tried to find me again?”

  Nick laughed nervously. “I haven’t a clue what vampires do except drink blood, hang around cemeteries—and attend Vampire Balls.” He smiled. “I wanted to get to know you better.”

  He’d kept the part about “and have hot sex with you again” to himself, but Malcolm’s cheeks quivered as they fought back a grin. It was almost as if he’d read Nick’s mind.

  “Alex, Dante, and I are friends,” said Malcolm, “but we’re also diamond couriers for a NOLA firm. We often deliver expensive items for the Sotheby and Christie auction houses. Our cover story is we’re here on vacation. The people who came after us must’ve learned we’re really here to deliver and pick up packets of extremely valuable jewelry and loose precious stones.”

  Alex took over. “This was to be Dante’s delivery because he’s Italian, speaks the language and knows Venice. Since some couriers have been robbed, even killed, and no one knows who the attackers are or where or when they’ll strike next, Malcolm and I were sent as bodyguards.”

  “Usually, I’m the driver for lesser deliveries,” Malcolm pitched in. “Although you can’t drive around Venice, I was needed for Dante’s protection.”

  “You’re diamond couriers. Thank heavens,” Nick said, letting his body relax. “After what Alex said in the alley about killing the street guy, I thought you might be involved in something sinister.”

  “Nothing more sinister than saving our lives…living or dead,” Alex said.

  He actually smiled, and for the first time, Nick noticed his striking green eyes and also decided he might like him. Then he recalled his words about the drunk and decided to rethink that idea: When might he do something to make Alex feel he had to do away with him?

  Dante said, “I think we should tell him about lo Greco and his vampires. If they could be a threat he should know it.”

  Nick thought Malcolm added a little too fast, “I’ll tell him later.”

  “To keep you safe,” Alex said to Nick, “you won’t know about the deliveries or pickups until we leave on one. If you’re caught for any reason, you won’t be able to tell anyone anything.”

  Great. If I’m caught they’ll just torture me to death because I don’t have the information. Nick nodded, keeping his face straight and wondering again just how in hell he’d gotten himself into this. So much for wanting to get to know Malcolm better.

  Their little meeting adjourned, and Nick went to his room and locked the door behind him. Too wired now to rest, he paced the room, starting when a rap came at the door. It was the secret signal they’d agreed upon.

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “Malcolm.”

  The vampire slid into his room and had shut and locked the door so fast Nick hadn’t even blinked. He leaned back against the door, arms crossed. “Hi.”

  He’d spoken in a soft voice filled with such sensual overtones it made Nick’s knees go weak. “Thank the saints you came. I was feeling pretty lonely here.”

  “I’ve missed you.” Malcolm reached for him, tipping his chin up and looking in his eyes. “Thank whoever’s in the heavens that we’re finally alone again. What if for some reason you weren’t on the train on our return trip? I forgot to ask how to find you once we’re back in the States. It’s been years since I tossed your phone number, and it probably wouldn’t be the same as it was after the ball five years ago. I don’
t want to lose you again.”

  Cool lips slid over Nick’s warm ones. “Open to me,” Malcolm said against them.

  Nick did, letting the devouring kiss linger because he was hungry for the taste of this lover and just a little confused and afraid now. He let Malcolm be the one to end it.

  When they broke apart, Malcolm said, “Have a seat, please. I have some explanations for you.” Then he walked to the kitchen and opened a bottle of red wine, one of the compliments of the house. He added a packet of cheese.

  The splash of the liquid into the glass broke the stillness. Returning to the couch, he handed it to Nick, who immediately swirled it and smelled its rich bouquet. He sipped. “Mmm. Very good.”

  Malcolm sat across from Nick and rested his right ankle on his left knee. “While you restore your spirits with that, I’ll explain where we were earlier tonight. In every country where the living dead exist, there’s a leader. In New Orleans, it’s a count. A prince leads the southern Italy group, and lo Greco, the duke, or doge, rules here in Venezia.”

  “I had no idea,” Nick said.

  “Thankfully, few humans do. If they did, we’d be hunted down and destroyed. We checked in with the duke not only because it’s common courtesy, but because under vampire law Alex needed to declare himself Dante’s protector, his champion here.”

  Nick listened as Malcolm explained how Alex became Dante’s protector.

  “Should a vamp want Dante for any reason, the law requires he or she fight Alex first. When the law is obeyed, it prevents challenges by other vamps because Alex has a worldwide reputation among the living dead as a formidable warrior. Since I’m always at his back, they might face both of us instead of just Alex. Dante himself is a clever fighter. However, it’s always a dicey business when Alex declares himself protector because the ruler can choose to ignore the rule. If you think Alex was ruthless when he talked about the drunk, you have no idea how vicious most vampires are.”

  Nick shuddered at that thought.

  “Alex and I are among the more civilized ones who work to hang on to some of our humanity, our human feelings—like honor, happiness, and love. So far, each leader Alex has approached has agreed to uphold the law. If a leader agrees—or in this case, his council—then supposedly all the vamps under him are bound to it.” Malcolm flicked a piece of lint from his slacks and scoffed. “Right. Good luck with that. We’ve already had dealings on two continents with one rogue vampire, but not here.”