Raphael (The Immortal Youth Book 1)

by Monica La Porta

  I love you. L.

  Upset he had not heard her leave, he hurried to the door, only to be reminded he wasn’t wearing anything when he entered the hallway and someone joked, “Naked run is next month.” The whole floor had almost had a glimpse of his bare back.

  Luisa saw it when he was sleeping.

  With a low curse and a kick, he closed the door of his bedroom behind him, and searched the place for something to wear—his bloodied tunic had disappeared—and found his clothes had been stored in the built-in closet. Without bothering with a shirt, he grabbed a pair of pants and donned the jacket, inserting only his good arm. Keeping the garment in place over his other shoulder proved futile, and he maintained it there by gingerly crossing his good arm over his naked chest. The skin around the tattoo was puffed, red, and sore to the touch, and he felt feverish.

  As soon as he was out of his room, other Reds stopped him to either congratulate him or ask about his night.

  “Thanks.”

  “Great.”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay.”

  Raphael absentmindedly answered all of them while striding toward the stairs.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” One of Tancredi’s guards looked down at Raphael when he tried to pass him on his way to the fourth floor landing.

  “To the harem?” Raphael commanded his shoulders to relax.

  “Looking for some morning sport with one of the girls, champion?” The man winked and slapped Raphael’s on his shoulder. “Have you not had enough already?”

  With a shrug, Raphael said, “It’s never enough.”

  “Aren’t you a stud?” Among laughter, the man picked a cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll call your big brother—”

  “Rico? Why?”

  “Rules, pup.”

  Cold sweat trickled down Raphael’s back. “What rules?”

  “A little brother only has access to the harem if his big brother chaperones him.” The guard gave him a soft smile as if he were talking to a child.

  One hand raised, Raphael shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. Don’t disturb Rico.” He made a show to sniff his armpit. “I need a shower first in any case.” With his chest heaving and his stomach clenched in painful spasms, he about-faced and returned to his room.

  There, in shocked stupor, he slid down to the floor and stared at the opposite wall for some time, before letting bitter tears wet his face. Despite having done everything in his power to be reunited with Luisa, she still was out of his reach. One floor up and a whole universe of rules away.

  Loud and repeated knocks on the door roused Raphael from his misery.

  “Little brother, you’ve work to do.” Rico’s voice was as obnoxious as his manners.

  Another volley of knocks followed, and Raphael forced himself up, remembered to hide Luisa’s note at the last moment, then opened the door before the werewolf would tear it down.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” Taking in Raphael’s disheveled appearance, Rico gave him a raised eyebrow. “You better pull yourself together.”

  Raphael made a noncommittal sound in response.

  “First day of training.” Rico stood to his full height, a good head taller than Raphael. “And you’re lucky because you’ll be sparring with me from now on.”

  “I’ve got a broken arm.” Raphael raised his shoulder to put the cast at Rico’s chest level.

  The werewolf swatted the cast away. “That’s nothing. You can still impart plenty of damage with your good one, your two legs, head, and teeth. You’ll see.” With his arm extended, Rico accompanied Raphael into the hallway. “Besides, you should be earning your stay, but Tancredi got a soft spot for you and said you should rest.” Jealousy was thick in his words.

  “So, I’ll train instead.” Somehow, the idea wasn’t that appealing to Raphael, who couldn’t remember when he had eaten last and had a huge headache. He was also sweating one moment and shivering the next.

  “You’ll train under the best, mind you.” With a rough hand placed on Raphael’s back, Rico pushed him forward, greeting people along the way.

  At the stairway, the werewolf headed down passing the second and first floor landings, and continued to the first level underground where the gym was located. As a recruit, Raphael had not been granted permission to use the facility that was reserved only for patched members. But he had been ordered to clean after them, those few times his delivery schedule had left him a few hours to spare.

  The gymnasium was big, squeaky clean, well-lit despite being windowless, and equipped with state of the art machines lining the walls. The ceiling was high enough to allow for a running strip, which jutted from the walls and followed the perimeter of the room. Rumor had it that sometimes Reds dared each other to run their bikes on the suspended walkaway. Raphael had also heard recruits talking about cage matches, and the presence of a large box-like cage made of metal bars and covered in metal mesh proved at least the second rumor to be real.

  At the moment, the gym was quiet. Several people milled around, some of them exercising, others running, a few sparring by the corner. But the moment Rico and Raphael put foot on the hardwood floor, every head spun in their direction.

  “Before we start, there’s only one rule you should know, don’t let your wolf fully out. That’s a big no, and you’re disqualified if you do. Only cowards let their wolves fight for them. Anything else, go for it… if you can,” Rico said, and Raphael had the feeling he had talked more for the people around them than for Raphael’s sake. As if Rico was acting the big brother for the audience.

  “I’ll keep my wolf tucked in. Don’t you worry, I don’t need extra help to beat you.”

  Raphael’s answer amused Rico who made a scene laughing until he doubled over.

  Ambling toward the roped ring at the center, the Red nodded to the ones who greeted him. “I heard you were looking to blow some steam this morning.” He stretched his neck with loud cracks. “That small bitch didn’t satisfy you, ah?”

  Fighting the urge to swing his cast and hit the werewolf on his face, Raphael stilled his arms by the side and counted to ten, but it didn’t work. Breathing in and out didn’t help either. Only thinking of Rico’s mouth smashed by several blows did the trick. “She did all right.”

  With his head canted and a cold look in his eyes, Rico pointed at the ring. “Remove the jacket and let’s work up a sweat.”

  If a moment earlier a few strands of conversations were still audible, after Rico’s invitation the room fell into an unsettling silence.

  Refusing to remove his jacket, Raphael lowered his hand and left his tattoo uncovered. The leather garment stayed over his shoulders for the moment, but he knew he would have to let it go soon. He was aware that every set of eyes in the room was trained on him, on the wolf inked in blood and poison. A flush of heat reached his face, and he wiped his forehead.

  Rico too couldn’t help a glance to Raphael’s fresh tattoo. His expression, already unpleasant, darkened, and he stepped backward until he touched the rope with his legs. “Why her?”

  The non sequitur hit Raphael like a punch to his chest. Barely breathing, he didn’t dare lower his gaze and show fear to the Red, but he could recognize a threat when he heard one, and his thoughts went to Luisa. Where was she? Was she safe? Had Rico done something to her?

  The temperature in the gym rose, leaving Raphael lightheaded. “I don’t know—” He closed his hand into a tight fist. “She looked easy.” Forcing out of his mouth those words left him nauseous, but he had to protect Luisa by denying how important she was to him.

  Rico seemed to think about it, then nodded with another of his sickening smiles. “She does look easy, doesn’t she?” Without looking behind, but with his eyes never leaving Raphael, he cleared the rope one leg at a time. “Maybe she’s easy because she knows she’s ugly.” He removed his jacket and balanced it on the rope. Then he tugged his white shirt from his jeans, and doffed it by opening the buttons on his throat and wrists
, and finally pulling it off his head. “When Tancredi gave her to me she was passable, but I tired of her soon enough. Too small, too slim, nothing interesting about her. I heard she stopped eating and started cutting herself when I didn’t want her anymore. Tragic really.”

  Soul-consuming rage made Raphael sway, the urge to free his wolf and let him bite Rico’s jugular so overpowering he stepped inside the ring without thinking. The man’s throat called to him as ancient memories of his twelfth birthday resurfaced to haunt Raphael in vivid details.

  “You worthless piece of shit. You won’t ever amount to anything in your life. You are pathetic.” Making sure to have the brass buckle loose at the end of the belt, his father raised the leather over his head, then swung his arm to hit Raphael.

  Like he had done so many times before.

  This time, Raphael’s fangs lowered and a low growl escaped his mouth. “No.” Uncurling from the fetal position he always ended up when his father beat him, he stood.

  “What are you saying?” His father looked shocked, and that pleased Raphael immensely.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  A surge of power he had never experienced before filled Raphael. His wolf, who had only shown glimpses of himself now and then, overtook him, making him attack his father. In a blink, Raphael pushed his father away with such strength he broke the table behind him at the impact. The next moment, he found himself staring at the blood gushing out from under his father’s head.

  “Are you okay, little brother?”

  Rico’s face overlapped his father’s, his voice echoing in Raphael’s ears as he moved around the ring. “You look funny.”

  Two Ricos danced before Raphael and he lunged toward the one on his left, only to fall flat on the mat. Voices sounded all around him, at the same time too loud and just a whisper, then the whole room spun around him.

  “Take him to the infirmary,” someone ordered, not Rico.

  Arms grabbed him, enhancing the pain engulfing his whole body with their rough handling.

  A heartbeat later, the bearded face of Guts, the tattooist, appeared in his line of sight. “I’ll give you something to make you sleep, okay?” He then asked, “Didn’t you see he was shivering?”

  “I thought he was tougher than that. He got the wolf in one setting after all,” Rico answered and that was all Raphael heard before blacking out.

  When he woke in the infirmary, Raphael found a visitor. “Hi, Rock.”

  “Hey, pup.” The man was sitting on a swiveling stool a few meters away from Raphael’s bed, and pushed it closer. “How do you feel?”

  “Never better.” His good arm was pricked in two points by needles connected to two bags hanging from a trestle jutting from the wall.

  Rock scoffed. “Drop the act, will you?”

  “I feel like crap, happy now?” In answering, he moved around, and his cast arm hit the bed rail with a clang sound that reverberated inside his skull.

  “As you should. When they brought you here, you were running a fever so high you convulsed. Guts pumped you with painkillers and antibiotics.” Rock folded his arms across his chest. “Guts and Rico should’ve known better than let you get the tattoo all at once. You probably had an allergic reaction to the vitriol. Or whatever.” He waved his hand before him. “In any case, the stress alone from the kind of day you had yesterday would’ve been enough to knock down a much stronger guy than you.” With a raised brow and a smile, he let out a chuckle. “You’re one tough pup.”

  “So I’ve been told.” Wanting nothing more than to ask about Luisa, Raphael turned to the side and away from Rock.

  Rock swiveled even closer and placed a hand over Raphael’s shoulder. “I don’t know what your game is, but you must be careful, pup.”

  Raphael’s comeback was immediate. “Got no game.” Depressing as it was, he had told the truth.

  “Still. Rico is not someone you want to trifle with.” Rock squeezed his hand for a moment, then released his hold, pushed the stool away and stood. “I’ll come back later to check on you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Once released from the infirmary, for several days Raphael saw less of Rico—who was busy with some vampire business—and more of the rest of the Reds.

  Although grateful for the respite—he hated Rico’s guts and his mere presence set Raphael on edge—at the same time, not knowing what the man was up to worried him. Every moment he wasn’t with Rico, the werewolf could be with Luisa. That possibility alone terrified Raphael. The only pleasant note were Rock’s visits. As promised, the burly Red kept swinging by daily, and more than once Raphael felt like confiding in him, but squashed the impulse fearing it would put Luisa in danger.

  A whole week passed by with no news about her.

  Days filled with menial tasks around the compound—Tancredi’s orders—didn’t alleviate Raphael’s worries. If anything, the reduced workload, consisting mostly in cleaning porn from laptops, drove him crazy. Too much time to think and long sleepless nights made him come up with all possible scenarios of what was happening to Luisa. At least once a day, but more often three or four times, he tried to sneak past the guards standing vigilant on the fourth floor landing. Soon, sending Raphael away became a fun game for the guards who didn’t take him seriously.

  His free time was spent roaming around the portions of the building open to him. Finally allowed in the basement under the gym level, he once found Rock on his way to the security room.

  “Do you mind if I ride along?” he asked when the Red didn’t slow down.

  “I mind because you’re a pain in the butt, but I’d rather have you under my sight than let you wander alone. Don’t touch anything.” Despite the grumpy statement, Rock let Raphael inside both the server room and the monitor room. After he greeted the security crew, he explained to him, “Thanks to the cameras and the alarms placed around the whole compound, breaching in from the outside is virtually impossible.”

  On the wall there was a floorplan of the building, and Rock pointed at the dots indicating the position of the cameras. While Raphael was listening to the Red, he saw some movement on one of the monitors. A moment later, an alarm went off and all eyes converged to the monitor Raphael was looking at.

  A bright light illuminated a spot on the video a second or two later, and one of the security guys laughed and shook his head. “Just a kitten.” He pointed at the small shape climbing the black spiral staircase hugging one side of the building. “The other day, a pigeon set the alarm off, and we had to go and remove the damn bird from one of the cornices.”

  “State of the art, ah?” Taking everything in, Raphael tried to store in his mind as much information as he could.

  “But no one in the last fifty or sixty years has ever tried to get in,” Rock finished at the end of the tour.

  Once they exited the security room, the door was locked behind them and Rock escorted Raphael back to the third floor. “Find something useful to fill your time.”

  “Let me in the harem.” Raphael gave Rock his best puppy eyes.

  Rock opened his arms to the side and shook his head. “Will you ever learn?”

  “It was worth a try.”

  ****

  One night, after another day of installing antiviruses, Raphael was battling his insomnia by contemplating ways to get in contact with Luisa. Suddenly, small steps echoed in the hallway outside his bedroom. A long moment passed, then a shadow darkened the crack under the door, and a folded piece of paper was pushed into the room. He was at the door a heartbeat later but only managed to catch a glimpse of long blond hair, rounding the corner and disappearing from sight. With shaking hands, he bent to retrieve the paper, but had the presence of mind to close the door behind him before reading the message.

  I’m on laundry duty. L.

  Luisa’s scent lingered on the note. After going so long without news of her, those few words written in her neat handwriting were like a balm to Raphael. He flattened the paper and put it under his pillo
w, together with her other letter. During the night, unable to relax, he read her two messages several times, bringing the papers to his lips and to his heart.

  The next day, Raphael went straight to Rock and asked if he could switch to household duty.

  Rock raised his eyes from a newspaper he was reading when Raphael entered his office. “Already bored of watching home-videos all day?”

  “There’s such a thing as too much porn.”

  “For a guy that tries to enter the harem every chance he gets, that doesn’t sound true.”

  Raphael hooked his thumbs into the rear pockets of his jeans, and toed the desk with the square point of his boot. “Never liked theory. I’m more of a practice-makes-perfect kind of guy.”

  With a roll of his eyes, Rock waved his hand toward the hallway. “Go ahead, no one is going to fight you for laundry duty.”

  When Raphael had already cleared the door, Rock called him back. “You do know that you’ll be carrying hampers from the fourth floor to the first and back, all day long?”

  “Need the exercise.” Before the man could see through his façade, Raphael sprinted ahead and announced to the fourth floor guards he had permission to enter their dominion.

  “Don’t go near the harem,” one of the two Reds said with a smirk, after confirming with Rock that Raphael wasn’t trying to sneak in again.

  “I won’t.”

  “Laundry room that way.” The man pointed at yet another corridor departing from the hall, then added, “You know what, I’ll walk you there.”

  “I have no intention to—” As he said the words, Raphael made a show to steal a furtive glance in the opposite direction where the harem was situated.

  “Just in case.” The guard chuckled and patted him on his shoulder. “I was your age once.”

  “If it makes you feel better.” Dragging his boots and slumping his shoulders, Raphael followed the man along the secondary hallway.