Slouched on the bench, eyes on the cascade of rainwater falling down from the sky above directly into the pool, Marcus took a moment to regulate his breathing, then picked up the folded paper from inside the box, and opened it. “Oh, gods… oh, gods…” He stared at the printed copy of a picture of Diana taken with a low resolution camera, probably a cell phone. Still shaking, he passed the back of his hand over his eyes, then looked back at the image. She was so small, hugging herself, laying on what looked like a rug. Her clothes were torn and dirty and barely covered her. Her skin was bloodied and marred with bruises. At the bottom of the printed paper, there were a few words.
“Surrender yourself if you want her to live,” the message said in black sharpie. “Tonight. Alone. Unarmed.” An address followed the warning.
Marcus read the words several times. The address he had been summoned to was in Castel Gandolfo, one of the ancient villages surrounded by volcanic lakes and bordering the rich outskirts of Rome where the medieval castles were located. It didn’t surprise him that the nest owned property in an exclusive area, but he found it twisted that the chosen hamlet was Castel Gandolfo, the pope’s famous summer vacation place.
Marcus raised his eyes to the column of water filling the pool, then touched the cell phone screen to check what time it was. He swore. It was rush hour in Rome and it was still pouring. The traffic on the Raccordo Anulare, the circular highway surrounding the inner city, would be bumper to bumper. Given the quantity of rain that had fallen, lots of roads were already closed. He had to hurry and leave the city before he got stuck in traffic.
Running toward the private garage where he had his car parked—a black Alfa Romeo that was the only item he brought with him wherever he lived—he called Alexander, who had left a dozen messages for him already. Messages Marcus hadn’t listened to because he had muted his phone. He didn’t have any recollection of having done so.
“Marcus, thank the gods you called back. I need to—” Alexander’s voice came out distorted. The storm was disrupting cell phones signals.
Marcus interrupted him before the call dropped. “You won’t believe this, but the Vatican and the vampires are neighbors. Diana is at Castle Gandolfo—” He heard the static in the middle of his sentence, but kept talking, hoping Alexander could still make out his words, and gave him the nest’s full address. “I’m headed there right now. If I don’t come back… you’ll know what to do.” The line on the other side went silent. He had reached the entry of the underground private garage he had chosen because it was only one block from his house.
The garage doorman, Emilio, welcomed Marcus with a big smile, then he tilted his head toward the small window on his right. Outside, the dark sky was illuminated by hair-raising lightning that seemed to strike closer and closer above the roofs nearby. “Looking for some thrills tonight?” He was a kind-hearted grandfather who enjoyed spending time in chitchats.
Any other time, Marcus would have humored him with a few innocent tales, but tonight, he only had one message to deliver. “If my friend Alexander should come by, give him the spare keys to my Alfa, okay?”
Emilio frowned at the request, but showed Marcus said keys hanging from the panel on the wall beside his desk. “Sure.”
Marcus waved his right hand in a good-bye and headed to his stall, where the Alfa waited for him under a protective white cover. He tossed the cover aside, then entered the vehicle. The familiarity of his car’s smell, the softness of his leather seat adapting to his body like a glove, and the purr of the engine gave him a moment of respite from his worries. He breathed his car in and closed his eyes.
A moment later, he was on the street, driving the Alfa into the inferno that was a heavy-rain commute night in Rome. His cell phone rang several times, all calls from Alexander, and all dropped past the first one or two words of acknowledgment. The traffic was a nightmare. Because of the downpour, several accidents blocked the main roads, clogging all the exits and alternative routes. He drove the Alfa in and out of several jams, but couldn’t get out of the city. Three hours had passed.
****
Diana watched as the vampires fed from young and willing women. She didn’t know if those girls were under compulsion, but they seemed to enjoy being milked like cows. She shuddered. Upon entering the dining hall, Claudius had offered a curvaceous redhead to Diana, but she had carefully worded her refusal.
“Better this way. I need you weak anyway.” Claudius had laughed out loud.
She had been told to sit at the long table and wait for the adults to eat. Claudius had left with three girls with long, black hair and almond-shaped eyes. She saw him disappear behind a curtained alcove, but the moans were too loud to ignore even at a certain distance. Uncomfortable with the public display of feeding taking place all over the room, Diana never reached the table—the only free chair was between two loud eaters. Instead, she walked from one window to the next, taking in the austere décor, the vaulted ceiling frescoed with a night sky painted in a Byzantine style, light-blue and filled with golden stars. The dining table could probably seat more than thirty guests and it was decked with a white damask tablecloth and matching fringed napkins. Most surprisingly for an environment where no solid food would ever be consumed, the table was set with antique silverware, delicately painted porcelain plates and saucers, and an array of crystal goblets. Besides the imposing table, the room was as bare as the walls, covered only in white and cream Venetian plaster. No paintings or tapestries were present, but the walls were evenly spaced with openings to the outside world. She counted six big, double-paneled, stained glass windows lining three of the four walls in the room.
She walked back to the windows on the opposite wall from the only door in the room. One of the two windows had its panels slightly ajar and she kneeled on the stone bench underneath to take a look outside. Her head barely fit between the panels and she separated them farther to stick out her upper body. She filled her eyes with the sight of the Roman hills in the distance. A big lake stood at the feet of the cliff from which Claudius’s residence overlooked the whole valley.
Diana didn’t know her exact location, but she was somewhere in the Roman Castles area. She could see the medieval hamlets perched on the hills, illuminated by millions of flickering lights, their ancient walls still protecting them from long-dead enemies. Her grandmother had used to take her to visit those charming villages on their Sunday excursions. Usually, they weren’t alone. All the Romans who longed for a respite from the heat and the tourists scourging the city ended up crowding those places instead. As a kid, she had loved that festive mess and the sight of the food vendor carts with all the multicolored treats.
A gentle breeze brought the smell of petrichor to her nostrils and she inhaled it until she felt lightheaded. Far away, but fast approaching, a storm was ravaging the night sky with sudden lights and loud rumbles. She leaned against the iron frame of one of the panels, her heart racing at the notion she would see Marcus again. She felt him getting closer to her, the sensation more than a hunch, as if she could see him. He was out there, riding that storm, conquering the hills to be reunited with her. She was elated and terrified.
A finger followed the line of her naked spine and didn’t stop at the dress’s neckline, but slowly progressed until it reached the clasp of the bra. She fought the urge to make a scene.
“Enjoying the view?” Claudius was too close to her, pressing his body against her back.
She could smell the fresh blood on his breath and it both repulsed her and wet her mouth, making her feel ashamed of her urges. Her knees buckled and she lurched over the marble windowsill overlooking the cliff. Claudius’s hand was at her waist, anchoring her back.
“I decide your fate. Not you. Never forget it.” He squeezed his fingers over the silk of her dress and pinched until he reached her skin and made her squirm in pain. “Now, come sit at my left. I’m sure it’s only a matter of minutes before our guest of honor arrives.”
One hand resting l
ightly on her shoulder, Claudius directed her to the head of the table. He waited for her to take the place he pointed at, then sat himself. A man wearing black majordomo livery entered the room with a somber expression and approached him. After a few whispered words, the man left and Claudius turned toward Diana. “Get ready. The show is about to start.”
****
Marcus swore and almost broke the Alfa’s horn, but for all his efforts in finding a way out of Rome before dawn would announce a new day, it took him five hours to navigate through the Flaminia Road, Piazza del Popolo square, the Forum—which reminded him too much of the night he had found Diana and he had to swerve twice to avoid hitting the oncoming traffic, so lost was he in his thoughts. Once he conquered the Forum, he headed for the Caracalla Baths where the light was broken, and crossed the intersection and almost ran over the police officer regulating the traffic. He entered the Appian Road at full speed and thanked the gods he always brought the Alfa back to the garage with a full tank; otherwise, he would have been looking for a cab already. The road to the Roman Castles hill was clogged and he resigned himself to wait. His only consolation was that he had avoided the Raccordo Anulare, which the radio had just announced was impenetrable from any direction.
The whole time he drove, he felt her calling to him, directing his thoughts and actions, pulling an invisible string connecting them. Even blind, he would have found her. Every kilometer his Alfa ate, he felt lighter, his internal compass realigning to her position. The choking sense of anxiety that had weighed on his chest since Diana had been kidnapped lessened as he neared his destination.
When he parked outside the address he had been given, Marcus wasn’t surprised it was a small palace towering over the Castle Gandolfo’s lake. He checked his phone one last time to see if there were any lost calls, then sent Alexander a text telling him he had reached his destination and added the address for good measure. Palms sweating and heart racing against his ribcage, he walked to the building’s entry. He didn’t need to announce himself because the huge carved door opened as soon as he darkened the wide marble steps leading to it.
“We’ve been expecting you.” A tall man, the majordomo judging from his livery, stepped aside to let him in.
Marcus entered the atrium, then raised his arms to the side and waited for the man to pat him.
The majordomo’s hands passed lightly over him. He found Marcus’s cell phone, took it from him, then nodded. “Thank you for your cooperation.” He gestured for Marcus to follow him deeper inside.
Inside, the palace resembled one of the many Renaissance houses dotting the Italian countryside. The entry was large, all white and black marble, chandeliers, and a double staircase filling the opposite wall. On the first landing, a black grand piano he recognized as a Steinway took central stage under a rectangular stained glass window. The scene depicted in the three vertical panels composing the window was religious in nature, which too was in line with the house’s origins.
The majordomo directed him to the left side of the winding staircase. After so many hours of driving in a state of constant agitation, Marcus was thankful for the small amount of exercise provided by climbing to the second landing. It relaxed his tight muscles and forced him to pump oxygen into his lungs.
A dimly lit hallway opened on the right. The only illumination showing Marcus where he was putting his feet came from the yellow artificial light passing under the doorways. The majordomo walked the whole length of the hallway and only stopped at the end of it, where stronger light spilled from a door’s seams and noises could be heard coming from the other side.
The majordomo slightly bowed, then opened the door. “Please.”
When he entered the room, the first face Marcus met was Diana’s; however, she wasn’t the only person present. A big table was filled with vampires and their blood donors. Diana wasn’t sitting close to the door either, far from it in fact, but he felt the pull of her eyes as if she were standing before him. An elegant man he immediately knew was Claudius sat next to her. The vampire had his hand over her shoulder and smiled at Marcus. Claudius subtly caressed Diana, barely moving his thumb over her bare skin, and making her shiver.
Rage filled Marcus’s mind with homicidal thoughts and he found himself at their side before he realized what he was doing. The chatting and laughing that had taken place only a moment before dimmed to a low murmur. Faces turned toward him.
Claudius’s sharp nail drew a drop of blood from Diana’s skin. Marcus took another step and Claudius rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Romans.” Then he looked back at Marcus and dropped his fangs. “So, we meet.” He tilted his head to the side as if he was studying him. “She was right all along.”
Confused by the vampire’s rambling, Marcus looked at Diana who imperceptibly shook her head. Her eyes stared into his, matching his longing and worries.
“I have waited a long time to exact my revenge on you, but now that I have you here…” Claudius raised his hand over his head. A moment later, a young waiter, impeccably dressed in black, appeared at his side holding a pitcher containing a sloshing dark-red liquid. Claudius tapped his middle finger on the table once and the waiter poured the beverage into a long-stemmed chalice. He dismissed the boy, then sipped from the chalice, and sighed. “Vegetarians taste better.”
“You were looking for me to exact revenge for what?” Marcus had to fight his urge to jump over the table and attack the vampire. He didn’t have a weapon, but he had dreamed of sinking his bare hands into Claudius’s chest to rip his heart out for so long that he could have executed the necessary moves with a blindfold.
Claudius’s composure seemed to vacillate for a moment, his hand shook, and red liquid spilled from the glass and stained the white tablecloth. The stain blossomed into a flower shape on the damask. He dipped his finger in it and brought it to his lower lip. Then he locked eyes with Marcus’s. “You are the reason why Aurelia is dead.”
Marcus blinked twice. He was so surprised to hear his own reason to hate the vampire thrown back at him that, for a moment, he couldn’t think of anything to say. Diana’s eyes traveled back and forth between Marcus and Claudius, her mouth open in a silent question.
“You attacked my wife and left her bleeding to die.” Marcus put both fisted hands on the table to prevent himself from acting irrational when Diana’s safety was at stake.
Throwing back the chair, Claudius stood and hurled the chalice away. “You are out of line.”
The sound of breaking crystal unnerved Marcus. “Am I?” He couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the unfolding scene.
Claudius pointed a finger at Marcus. “I loved Aurelia—”
“You knew my wife?” A dark feeling uncoiled in his stomach and awakened an ancient pain. Deep in his heart, he had known Aurelia was seeing someone.
“We were lovers.” Claudius relaxed his stance, and when he turned to get his chair back, a second waiter was already easing it toward him.
Marcus swallowed hard.
The vampire sat, a satisfied expression illuminating his gray eyes. “Aurelia was leaving you.”
Chapter Ten
Diana watched the exchange between the two men, growing worried for Marcus, who looked on the verge of losing his temper.
Claudius made sure Marcus saw him grab her hand and lower it on his thigh while he whispered to her, “Remember what I told you.”
Diana felt bile rising to her mouth, but tried to school her expression before Marcus would do something stupid.
“You’ll feel soon what I felt.” Claudius angled his body toward hers and threw his free arm over her shoulder while he kept guiding her hand up and down his leg. “She is quite good at what she does, isn’t she?”
She closed her eyes, unable to face Marcus’s pain.
“Let her go. She’s nothing to you.” Marcus’s voice was a whisper.
“No, she isn’t. But I can feel in the way your heart is straining against your chest that she is more than somethi
ng to you.” Claudius took her hand and brought it to the table. “Now, we’ll play a bit, poppet.”
She didn’t have time to register his words before the rest of the room disappeared before her eyes. And only pitch-black darkness remained. The room was gone. The vampires were gone. Marcus was gone. Only Claudius remained. He was looking at her from a corner.
When the first blow hit her, she didn’t see it coming. Paralyzing terror possessed her. The stench of urine and exhaust smog reached her nose and she was in a back alley. That back alley. Several men corralled her to the wall lined with garbage bags. She had exited the restaurant where she had met her last client, a habitué who paid her good money to keep him company when he was in town. Tonight, he was tired and had bid good night to her earlier than usual. As the gentleman he was, he had called a cab for her, then left for his hotel. While waiting for her ride to arrive, she took a call.
“I came down with the flu, would you go in my stead?” Her colleague Sonia was a nice girl, and they often filled in for each other.
“What kind of job is it?”
“A bacchanalia, you know, one of those Roman party reenactments rich and famous people go crazy for. It will be good money and the client who hired me doesn’t want to go alone. I vouch for him. He’s a nice family man and kind of shy.”
“Okay.” She never reached the place. She never took the cab, but she saw it turning the corner of the restaurant as hands grabbed her. Before she could react, she was dragged into the dark alley behind.
The men who had cornered her were drunk and smelled terrible. “Come here. Let’s play.”
She couldn’t outrun them. She could only scream, but they took that away from her as well. A fetid hand pressed over her mouth and nose. She was pushed down. Down. Down. Down.
She gasped, reaching for that gulp of air she couldn’t breathe. The room full of vampires was back. Marcus was screaming.
Claudius was smiling, looking at her with mild interest. “Having fun yet?”
The Lost Centurion Page 15