Angel Unbound

by Sharon Saracino

  “Wonderful! I’ll bring one right out and then I’ll get dressed, all right?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Calli smiled and closed the door. She scurried to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, splashing it full of wine from the first bottle that came to hand. Her hands were trembling so badly that it sloshed all over the tiled counter. She barely noticed.

  Something wasn’t right. In her heart she knew Luca would have come for her himself. At the very least, he would have called to alert her to the change in plans. Wouldn’t he? Of course, he would.

  She’d become so used to being surrounded by people since her rescue that she’d allowed the temporary solitude to feed her imagination. Luca loved her. He did. And he would never send Elle Gates to fetch her after she’d promised to stay in the house until he returned. He would simply come for her himself.

  And something about Elle seemed slightly off. Calli wasn’t sure what was going on, but thought the best course of action was simply to stay within the protection of the sigils until either she figured it out or the others returned.

  Decision made, she picked up the glass and hurried back to the door. She took a deep, fortifying breath and stepped out onto the porch. Elle waited exactly where she’d left her, and the back door of the car remained open, but the driver was nowhere to be seen. Calli assumed he’d gotten back into the car to wait.

  She made her way carefully down the porch steps and across the front walk to the stone arch that crouched over the iron gate. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed two little veil-covered heads peering furtively over the convent wall.

  “Here you are,” Calli smiled as she half opened the gate and held out the glass. “You know, I’m really not very hungry. Why don’t you go along and meet the others? Have a wonderful meal. I think I’ll wait here and see you later, all right?”

  Being careful to stay within the confines of the arch, Calli reached out a bit further to hand the wine to Elle when she made no move to take it. As soon as Calli’s hand passed through the invisible shield of the sigils, the other woman’s hand shot out without warning and her fingers locked painfully around Calli’s exposed wrist. The glass crashed to the ground, shattering on the concrete and spattering red wine everywhere.

  “What’s the matter with you, Elle? What are you doing? Please let go of me at once!” Calli cried out in alarm while tugging ineffectually against the freakishly strong grip of the other woman.

  “Please let go of me at once,” Elle mocked in a little girl sing-song voice. Then her voice changed completely. So much so, that it was nearly unrecognizable when she continued in a deep, sneering tone. “Always so polite, Callista. You really are a wishy-washy little thing. Luca may believe he loves you, but what he really needs is a woman who can stand beside him, not one that meekly hides like a frightened rabbit when trouble rears its head. He’ll realize that soon enough once you’re gone.”

  As soon as Elle touched her, Calli felt the unmistakable creep of evil along her spine. However, she had no time to contemplate the return of the sensation or the reason Elle triggered it because with one determined pull, Elle jerked her through the gate and clear of the protection of the sigils. She spun Calli around and painfully wretched her arm up between her shoulder blades. The driver popped up from behind the car and hurried forward with a piece of cloth bunched in his hand. He quickly clamped it over Calli’s nose and mouth. She had scant seconds to glimpse the heads of the two little nuns as they disappeared below the convent wall, and then the world dissolved into nothingness.

  ****

  Calli opened her eyes to darkness so complete that she feared she might actually be dead. When she tried to sit up and only succeeded in rising a few inches before coming into contact with solid rock, the screaming pain in her head convinced her otherwise. The air around her was dry and suffocating, clogging her nostrils with the scent of dust and death.

  Gingerly, she reached out and cautiously felt her surroundings hoping for any sort of clue. Positioned on her back, the area beneath her was solid and unforgiving. Thanks to the swollen lump blooming on her forehead, she knew that a few inches above her was a rough wall of solid rock. There was less than a foot of space between the two.

  Wherever she was, it was small, it was dirty, and it was dark. When she tried to shimmy down in the direction of her feet, she found she progressed no more than a few inches and then she shifted her weight when her cell phone dug uncomfortably into her right buttock. Her phone!

  Calli carefully snaked her arm along her side and lifted her bottom slightly to slide the phone from her pocket and press a button. The light wasn’t very bright, but it was better than nothing. Calli turned the device in every direction trying to assess her surroundings. She failed to swallow the scream that rose in her throat when she turned her head to the left and an ancient human skull grinned back at her, mere inches from her face. With her heart hammering and her breath coming in short, painful gasps, she directed the light along the wall on her left and saw what appeared to be a complete skeleton pushed into a tangled heap to the side of where she lay. It took her but a moment to understand the reason the remains were crammed in a pile against the wall. She was currently occupying their former resting place.

  Clearly, Elle Gates had gone insane. Panic seized her throat in an iron fist, stealing her breath until she feared she would strangle. Her teeth chattered as she rallied every ounce of determination she possessed to stay conscious and fight against the overwhelming terror that gripped her. Dear God, she was buried alive!

  Chapter Seventeen

  Luca roared Calli’s name before he and Monte had even fully materialized in the parlor of the Via Dandolo house. When nothing but silence greeted him, he released Monte’s jacket with such force that the Fallen stumbled over the coffee table and crashed to the floor. Ignoring him, Luca strode into the kitchen, and the first thing he noticed was the soup bubbling on the stove and the wine spilled on the counter. He ran a finger through the deep red puddle and put it to his lips. Chianti. Merde! Calli didn’t drink Chianti. He stormed out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs, trying to convince himself she was upstairs in her room, when Monte’s voice reached him from the foyer.

  The front door stood wide open, as did the gate at the street. Monte was already halfway down the walk when Luca streaked past him, his eyes riveted on the glint of shattered glass and the telltale stain on the pavement outside gate. Somehow, the demon had convinced her to leave the safety of the villa. Somehow, he’d managed to lure her beyond the protection of the sigils. Calli would never have willingly left on her own. He understood that now. But, it didn’t change the fact that she was gone. Because of him. She’d become the demon’s target because Luca loved her. If he’d had the strength to walk away, she would have been safe.

  Luca didn’t realize he was having an audible monologue with himself until Monte grabbed him by his jacket and nearly lifted him off his feet despite being the smaller man.

  “There will be plenty of time to fall apart later if we fail,” the Fallen growled. “You are a Defensori. Act like one. Pull yourself together, Fiorelli. A babbling idiot is no good to her.”

  Luca stared at the other man as though he’d never seen him before. Then he took a deep breath and stepped back.

  “You’re right. I believed she was dead for over a hundred years and she wasn’t. I will find her no matter how long it takes. This time I won’t give up on her. I won’t give up on us.”

  “Good.” Monte whacked him on the shoulder and turned to go back into the house. Luca used his boot to kick the glass remnants from the center of the walkway and grabbed the gate to pull it closed behind him. Mac and Kat should be here any minute. They would sit down, put their heads together, and figure it out. And then he would go and bring Calli home. He had to believe it. Otherwise the hole eating through his chest would devour him completely.

  “Scusi, signore?”

  The words were so softly s
poken that for a moment, Luca thought he’d imagined them. He spun on his heel and saw two young sisters, presumably from the convent next door. One hung back as though the very sight of him terrified her and the other reached back and pulled her forward to stand beside her.

  “You are looking for the signorina? La bella capelli …” her face creased in concentration as she struggled to find the correct word. She put her hands on the top of her head and ran them down the sides until she reached her waist.

  “The beautiful long hair?” Luca stepped forward and they both took a step back. He forcibly reigned in his excitement and stopped moving. Dare he hope they’d seen something that could help? “Si, sorelle. I am looking for the signorina con capelli lunghi. Have you seen her?”

  “Si, signore. There was a woman in un automobile. Il grande automobile nero. She did not want to go. The woman took her.”

  “A woman in a big black car? She took her?”

  “Si, signore. La bellezza brought a glass of wine. When she gave it to the woman, the woman grabbed her and pulled her through the gate. And the man, he put a cloth over the signorina’s face,” piped up the second nun.

  Chloroform. Cazzo! Wherever they’d taken her, she’d likely have been unconscious the entire trip. Even if he could somehow hope to reach her mind, she’d have no way of telling him where she was.

  “We wanted to help, signore, but we did not know what to do. She did not want to go,” the frightened young sister said again.

  “No, she did not want to go,” Luca agreed. “And it would not have been safe for you to interfere, sorella. You did the right thing. Grazie for telling me what you saw. Mille grazie.”

  “Prego, signore. I hope you find her.”

  So do I, Luca thought darkly as the two novices scurried back to the safety of the convent and disappeared behind the wall. Luca slammed the gate forcibly enough to knock it from its hinges and stalked back down the walk to the villa, taking the steps two at a time. Monte paced the length of the porch restlessly waiting.

  “Anything helpful?”

  Luca scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “Not really. She was taken in a black car, probably a limo. They chloroformed her.” How in the name of all that was holy could he find her with nothing more to go on than that? Luca knew he was in danger of letting his fear for Callista control him. Monte was right, and if that didn’t beat all. Luca Fiorelli taking advice from a Fallen. He could fall apart later. Right now, he needed to find his center, his dispassion. Right now, he needed to be a warrior. Right now, Calli needed him. This time, he would not fail her.

  “Mac, where in the hell are you?”

  “Right here.” Kassian and Kat appeared in the parlor the moment Luca sent the thought. They took one look at his face and went completely still. “She’s gone?”

  Luca turned away from the pain in his friend’s eyes. He knew it was a pale reflection of his own. He concentrated on breathing. Until Calli was in his arms. Until the demon was destroyed. He just had to keep breathing.

  “She left the house?” Mac roared loudly enough to rattle the glass in the windows. “I’ll kill her! First I’ll find her, and then I’ll kill her!”

  Luca turned back to him.

  “She didn’t leave willingly,” he sighed in a tired voice. “Apparently she took Elle a glass of wine. When she handed it through the gate, they grabbed her and dragged her out. Then they chloroformed her and drove away in a limo.”

  “How the hell do you know all that?” Mac demanded hotly.

  Luca jerked his head in the direction of the convent. “A couple of the nuns saw it all.”

  “And that helps us, how?” Mac snapped.

  “Well,” Kat laid her palms on her husband’s chest and stroked him soothingly. “We know she was alive. The demon could have simply induced Elle to kill her outright, but he didn’t. Maybe Elle is stronger than we’re giving her credit for. Maybe she’s fighting to do the right thing.”

  “I very much doubt that,” Monte said. “A human doesn’t have the ability to block him from the mind as we do. Still, your wife is right. We know she was alive when they took her. That means there is a chance she is still alive.”

  “But for how long?” Luca muttered miserably. He’d been sending out thought after thought in an attempt to reach her since they’d arrived at the villa. Either she was too far away, still unconscious, or…No. He couldn’t go there. Could. Not. Go there. He had no idea how they would find her, but he had to believe they would. Hell, he had to believe it, or he would disintegrate into a hot mess right here in the parlor.

  “May I make a suggestion?” Monte asked.

  “Well, any idea is one more than we’ve got now,” Mac retorted glumly.

  Monte cocked a brow. “Does Callista have a cell phone?”

  “Yes, she does,” Kat spoke up. “But I don’t think she’s ever used it. She finds it complicated and frustrating. She rarely even remembers to carry it.”

  “I’m not sure how that would help anyway.” Mac rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “I mean sure, we could try calling her, but do you honestly think Azakriel would let her answer and tell us where she is?”

  “I was thinking of GPS,” Monte said. “Is her phone equipped with any tracking applications?”

  “Damn! I never even thought to activate it,” Luca exploded. Why would he? Until recently, Calli hardly left the house.

  “Perhaps we can find her, anyway,” Monte replied. “There are websites that provide the service for such things for a fee.”

  “You know how to do this?” Mac asked.

  “Not exactly, but I am willing to try. I need her phone number and a computer.”

  Mac waved Monte toward a small table near the window where a laptop sat among a pile of papers. He hung over the Fallen’s shoulder as Monte powered up the machine and began typing.

  “I’m going to text her,” Luca announced suddenly. He yanked his phone from his pocket.

  “Luca,” Kat stepped over to her brother and laid a comforting hand on his arm. “Calli has no idea how to text.”

  “I know that.” Luca’s fingers shook and he had to backspace and re-enter time after time. “But she can read, can’t she? If there’s any possibility she will see this, I want her to know I’m coming for her. I want her to know I won’t give up this time…I want…”

  Luca raised his eyes to his sister’s and saw the pain and compassion. She believed it was futile. He glanced around at the others. Monte’s attention was glued to the computer screen. Mac’s face could have been carved in stone. Luca recognized that look. Mac was already grieving. None of them believed there was any chance of finding Calli alive. Well screw them all. Anyone who wanted him to believe Calli was lost to him would have to prove it.

  Diavolo! He would not accept that he’d found his soul and regained his heart to lose it after one night of incredible passion. She was a part of him now. He would feel it if her soul had moved on. But the minutes were ticking by, and they were no closer to knowing where to look. He blew out a long, shaky breath. He tapped the screen to send the message and shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Well, it can’t hurt, right?”

  “No,” Kat replied softly. She stretched up and pressed her lips to Luca’s cheek. “No, it can’t hurt.”

  ****

  Calli concentrated on counting breaths until she tamed her initial panic. Hysteria did not lend itself to logic and if she had any hope of surviving this, she had to think. Wasn’t Luca always telling her she had to use her head? She listened carefully, but beyond the confines of her dusty tomb, she detected nothing but complete and utter silence. During her years with Jacques Rapier, she’d read anything and everything, including dozens of archeological texts and had come to the conclusion that she’d been sealed in a loculus, a recess in a catacomb where the ancients buried their dead. Given the number of catacombs in Rome, it was the only thing that made sense. Though why Elle would do this to her escaped Calli’s unders
tanding completely. She did know that unless she could find her way out, she was doomed. There were hundreds of kilometers of dark and narrow underground tunnels and tombs running beneath the city of Rome and its surroundings, some well-known, but others scarcely explored. Even if she managed to escape the confines of the tomb, she realized she was likely to find herself in what amounted to a dark and confusing maze. But doing something had to be better than doing nothing. She’d survived over a century in the clutches of Jack the Ripper. Surely she could outwit a lunatic redhead with designs on Luca.

  She turned on her side as far as possible, holding her phone up to the wall that ran the length of the compartment opposite the dusty remains of her companion. It looked as though it had been cobbled together from brick, dirt, and loose tufa, a porous, volcanic rock found beneath the city. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious, but deduced it couldn’t possibly have been long enough for the moist earth packed among the rubble to harden. She felt along between the stones and her fingers came away damp. She began to claw methodically at the moist edges with her nails but it wasn’t long before they were ragged and bloody. She sucked her first two fingers into her mouth and laved them with her tongue to soothe the sting, grimacing at the dusty, metallic taste.

  “Well, so much for my first manicure,” Calli sighed in the direction of her sightless and still grinning companion. She shone her light in his direction and regarded him critically.

  “Since we find ourselves in such intimate quarters, I feel as though you should have a name. I’m sure you were once called something lovely and noble like Atticus or Horatio, but honestly you look like a George to me.” Not surprisingly, her fellow cellmate offered no objection. “All right then, George it is. What’s that you say, George? You’re feeling a bit cramped? Yes, I understand completely and I promise to give you room to stretch just as soon as possible. I must say, this is a sticky wicket, George. If only I had a tool of some sort, I’m sure I could loosen this mess.”