Lupo (The Immortals Book 8)

by La Porta, Monica

  “That was the plan.” Lupo’s eyes watered at the acrid stench. He closed his hand around the plastic blade and brought it closer to his thigh. The whole scene played like déjà vu, and his wolf was getting restless.

  “You are wondering why I’m here.” Rico advanced one step inside the cell.

  “Not really.” Lupo kept his eyes on Rico’s hands at all times. His wolf paced with his tail swinging fast and his fur high on his back.

  “I want to erase that smug expression off your face and let the angel know he can’t just harass me.” Rico took a second step, yet his hands didn’t reach for any syringe as Lupo had expected.

  The werewolf’s unpredictability, a trait he was known for, coupled with his drug addiction, chemically enhanced powers, and his thirst for blood, kept Lupo on edge. Although he had proved he was stronger than the Red, the man seemed to have several aces up his sleeve. If nothing else, the simple fact that Rico didn’t fear physical pain worked against Lupo, who could only promise a good beating.

  “I imagine you’re counting the days that are left before your release.” Rico stopped a full step before Lupo. “I, on the other hand, am looking forward to the coming years I’ll get to spend in the company of young men I’ll have the pleasure to break and use as I please.”

  “You won’t touch Paride,” Lupo snarled, standing up and pushing himself against Rico who was slammed backward on the cell’s bars. With the sharp edge of the spoon pressed against Rico’s throat, Lupo whispered, “I’ll kill you.” His wolf barked his assent, and Lupo gave him permission to attack Rico’s wolf.

  Rico must have been in excruciating pain with his back exposed to the silver that was eroding his skin through the thin fabric of the jumper, and his wolf bitten by Lupo’s. Yet, the Red laughed in Lupo’s face.

  “You and I both know you won’t do anything to me. First, you’re too soft for your own good. Second, you won’t get away with it. I’m a lowly beta, remember?” He tapped a finger to his temple.

  “Maybe I don’t care to follow the rules anymore.” Lupo didn’t know what kind of game the Red was playing, but a calm, reasoning Rico was more dangerous than a belligerent one.

  “You’ll follow them if you want to know what happened to your bitch—”

  Rico couldn’t finish his thought. While his wolf raged inside his mind, Lupo silenced the Red with an upper jab to his jaw that sent his head bouncing back and forth against the bars. Blood trickled from Rico’s nose and lips, but he smiled, as if he was having fun.

  “So easily offended.” Rico spat blood to the side. “That’s too bad. I was going to tell you something that might’ve interested you, but I guess you don’t want to know.”

  Lupo had enough of the werewolf’s mind games. “I preferred you when you used your muscles.” Frustrated and angry, he hit Rico twice more. It didn’t escape his notice that the werewolf didn’t attempt to parry the blows, but Rico had offended Jasmine’s memory, and Lupo couldn’t think past his need to make him pay.

  Whistles blew close, and loud steps accompanied by harsh voices announced the guards had decided to earn their salary for once and check on the commotion. Driven by rage, Lupo hadn’t cared to lower his voice or muffle his grunts when beating Rico, and now he realized it was the werewolf’s plan all along.

  “Why did you come tonight?” His voice was hoarse, and the desire to erase the smile from Rico’s face was strong.

  “To make you understand that even if your parents are powerful and I can’t touch you anymore, I still have the upper hand. I don’t need to hit you to make you suffer. I know things you’d kill to know. After you are released, I’ll be here to do with Paride whatever I want. You’ll be out of Regina Coeli, but you’ll never be free of me, and the ones you love will suffer the most.”

  “Don’t be so sure. I’ll find a way to make you pay if you so much as touch a single hair on Paride’s head.” With both hands on Rico’s collar, Lupo gave him a last jerk before throwing him to the floor.

  Chapter Ten

  True to his words, Rico didn’t come back to haunt Lupo’s nights. Ironically, the anticipation was nerve-wracking. Night after night, Lupo lay in wait, until he hoped Rico would come so he could spend his angry energy smashing the werewolf’s face to a pulp.

  Two restless weeks passed, and Christmas arrived none too soon, although it was a bittersweet affair for Lupo. Only Paride’s constant blathering during the break lifted Lupo’s battered spirit. He had said he didn’t have great expectations, but in truth, he woke after dreaming of Jasmine, and reality was too harsh for him to confront sober. Too bad it was easier to obtain V in Regina Coeli than a cheap can of beer.

  Alcohol wasn’t the solution to his problems, but Lupo hadn’t been able to summon Jasmine’s voice for weeks, and he mourned her loss anew. Getting shitfaced was what the doctor had ordered.

  Then it was visitation hour, and Lupo was surprised to find the room filled with people.

  “Happy Christmas, Lupo.” Quintilius hugged him. “I hope you don’t mind that we brought some friends who wanted to see you.”

  Lupo was taken aback for a moment, a lump in his throat preventing him from answering. Raphael and his girlfriend Luisa stepped forward to hug him. Then Peter and his companion Ophelia. The fallen angel, Samuel, and his wife Martina, the lawyer who had defended him in his trial, were there too. Even Ravenna del Sarto and Alexander Drako had come.

  “How are the babies?” Lupo asked when it was Ravenna’s turn to greet him.

  “We couldn’t take them with us, but they would’ve loved to see you.” Ravenna and Drako had three kids, triplets, whom Lupo had met at their house, and he was fond of them.

  “But Marta is taking care of the terrible trio, and since she couldn’t come, she’s baked nonstop for you.” Drako leaned closer for a one-harmed hug, then moved to the side to show Lupo the smorgasbord on the table.

  “Great Wolf above.” Lupo whistled at the bounty. There were several trays of croissants, two sweet breads, potato croquettes, rice croquettes, tramezzini—the small triangular sandwiches filled with ham—one margherita pizza, and several transparent containers full with mini almond pastries. “Wow!” He grabbed a potato croquette and moaned when he reached the mozzarella and cream of anchovies heart. “Best Christmas gift ever. Give Marta a big kiss for me.”

  “Marta will be happy.” Ravenna laughed.

  “Don’t let me eat alone.” Lupo gave the group the go ahead, and everyone helped themselves.

  Raphael approached him with a flat package wrapped in newspaper that had been stenciled with a wolf head. “I made something for you.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “I wanted to.” Raphael pushed the package toward him.

  After cleaning his hand on his jumper, Lupo accepted the gift. “What is it?”

  “Something I’ve been working on for a few months.”

  Lupo broke the wrapping paper in the middle and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of a shiny comic book. He then did a double take when he peered at the cover. A big wolf howled at the moon from a cliff, and a panther looked at him from a knell. “Is it me and Jasmine?” Drawn in Raphael’s colorful style, the vignette was achingly familiar.

  “Just a story I thought you would enjoy reading—” Raphael made a vague gesture with his hand, before stepping back to Luisa. “I hope you like it.”

  His throat constricted by a lump, Lupo nodded when words didn’t come out of his mouth.

  A strong hand landed on his back. “Would you like to see our gift?” Quintilius asked with a big grin when Lupo turned around to face him.

  At Quintilius’s side, Ludwig reached for a black leather messenger bag he had lowered to the table.

  “What’s that?” Lupo pointed at the large piece of paper Ludwig carefully removed from the bag.

  “We are making some improvements to Casolare del Lupo,” Quintilius explained as Ludwig flattened down the corners of the paper, which at closer inspecti
on was a detailed sketch of an apartment.

  “We’ll start construction as soon as you give us the okay. See if there’s anything you’d like to change.” Ludwig made sign for Lupo to get closer. “The new wing will be attached to the casolare, by our apartments, so that you aren’t far away from us, but at the same you’ll have your privacy.” His hand hovered over the plan, then he lingered over the portion depicting the backyard. “Here is the separate entry from the gardens. And your bedroom windows will open to Jasmine’s arboretum.”

  With misty eyes, Lupo studied the sketch. The garden dedicated to Jasmine had been sketched with great care to details, plants, flowers, trellis, a small creek and its rocky bridge completing the scene. “Who drew this?”

  “Camelia, who wanted to be here today, but she got a bug and didn’t want to pass it around,” Quintilius answered. “So, do you like it?”

  With a hand pressed over his heart, Lupo tried to steady his voice. “I love it.”

  “Anything you want us to change before we give the crew the go ahead?” Ludwig pointed his chin at the plan.

  “It’s perfect.” In truth, it could never be perfect without Jasmine, but his parents’ gift was as close to perfection as it could have been. “Thank you.” He hugged Quintilius first, then Ludwig. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Never say that,” Quintilius softly admonished him.

  “You are our miracle come true. Our son. You’ve made us so happy, there won’t ever be words eloquent enough to explain the joy you’ve given us.” Ludwig dropped a small kiss on Lupo’s head.

  “I wish—” Lupo couldn’t finish his thought because both parents hugged him tight.

  “We love you, and we can’t wait to have you with us at Casolare del Lupo, where we can finally be a family,” Quintilius whispered.

  ****

  The next day, when Lupo saw Paride in the courtyard, he was still in a state of bliss. Even the freezing breeze transporting icy droplets of rain didn’t bother him. Christmas hugs had been warm enough to last him a week.

  “Hi, puma,” he greeted Paride who was sitting on a column at their regular spot. Opening his lungs, he took a good breath and inhaled the cold air. The rain had washed away the stench produced by millions of cars crossing Rome daily. It wouldn’t last long and it was to be savored.

  “Hey, wolf.” Paride’s usual lightness was marred by a darker undertone.

  “How was your Christmas?” Without letting the other know, Lupo sniffed the puma’s scent and found a confirmation of what he had heard in his friend’s voice. Paride was in pain.

  “It was good. Angel came, and Patrizia. It was so nice to see both of them. I would’ve liked to see my nephew, but she brought recent pictures of baby Marco,” Paride said, his eyes distant, and his arm hugging his middle.

  “You didn’t tell me you were an uncle.” With a hop, Lupo took his place on the columns next to Paride.

  The puma lowered his eyes to the cobblestones, which had a metallic shine thanks to the misty rain. “I don’t like to talk about it, but Marco is such a beautiful boy, it seems unfair to hate him for what those monsters did to my sister. My nephew is an innocent child and deserves to be loved.” With a shake of his head, he hugged himself tighter with both arms.

  Waiting for his friend to say something else, Lupo thought of what could be an appropriate response to what he had just heard, but when the silence protracted he finally said, “I’m sorry for what happened to your sister.”

  “They were after me and Angel, but decided to punish her instead—” Paride was now visibly shaking.

  “Who’s they?”

  “The gang that’s behind the infants’ kidnapping ring. Angel and I had just discovered that a few outsiders, a bunch of werewolves, were luring some of the girls into their den, and asked around about them. We only became worried when two young she-wolves didn’t come back after going out with one of those thugs. We looked for them everywhere, but we couldn’t find them. One day, around two months after, one of the two reappeared. She was unrecognizable, there wasn’t a centimeter on her face and body that hadn’t been kicked or punched. After she recovered, she told us they had been both raped and kept in a cell until it was clear they were pregnant. The one who had come back had lost her baby and soon after was thrown into the street, left for dead after a ferocious beating.” Paride rocked as he spoke.

  “You went after them.” Lupo’s stomach had shrunk to the size of a walnut, and he had to breathe in and out not to throw up.

  “Of course we went after them. You should’ve seen that girl. I swore I’d kill them.”

  “I would’ve done the same.” Lupo reached out to pat Paride’s shoulder, but his friend didn’t seem to notice.

  “We told the Controller, but he couldn’t find that gang. The girl described the place where she had been kept, but it could’ve been any basement in Rome. Even the gang insignia wasn’t a known one.”

  “A new gang in Rome? When?”

  “Less than a year ago.”

  Lupo shook his head. “I doubt that. Around that time, I was still working for the Reds, and there were no new gangs. I would know.”

  “But the Controller couldn’t find them.”

  “It could mean all sorts of things, but I know for a fact that no new gangs have popped out of nowhere in the last twelve or thirteen months.” Lupo shrugged. “If you are part of a gang, you’re proud to show your letters. There’s no way you don’t, after they put you through hell and back just to be considered as a prospect.”

  “Which doesn’t bring us any closer to knowing who they are.”

  “No, but there’s a finite number of gangs in Rome, and I can give you the names.”

  “What about their locations?”

  “I know of some of them, but the majority of the gangs tend to keep their dens a secret. The Reds are the only ones who don’t care about secrecy.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Tancredi believes his gang is the strongest and they don’t need to hide.”

  “Is it true?”

  “So far only a few gangs have had the guts to challenge the Reds, and among them only the Moon Howlers came close to truly being a challenge.”

  Paride hissed a curse. “I only want those monsters to die a horrible death. When the Controller came back apologizing because he hadn’t found them, I was almost relieved. I don’t want them to go to prison. They deserve to be quartered alive, and I want to be the one holding the butcher knife.”

  “I understand.” Lupo’s wolf was unsettled by Paride’s puma’s intense energy. “If I can do anything for you, I will.”

  “Thanks.” Paride finally raised his eyes and they were lined with angry tears.

  “They will pay.” Lupo made to give Paride a one-armed hug, when he saw a red stain on the puma’s jumper, just under the spot Paride was holding tight. “What’s happened to you?”

  Paride winced and covered the blood with his splayed hand. “A Christmas’s present from one of Rico’s goons. He hasn’t gotten over me yet.”

  “Were you stabbed?”

  “Yes.”

  “With what?” Lupo had mistakenly thought Paride’s trembling was due to the cold and the rage.

  “A pencil, I guess. I don’t know. It was dark.” Paride looked around, his eyes darting right and left, encompassing the whole courtyard.

  With a pleased grin on his face, Rico stood in the opposite corner, surrounded by an army of werewolves fawning after him.

  “At least four of them attacked me when I’d just gone to bed. While they beat me, they kept whispering all the things Rico would do to me. Then one of them stabbed me a few times.”

  “Why haven’t you gone to the infirmary?”

  “I tried. I called for help, but the guards have ignored me. They saw me bleeding and told me to clean myself up.” Paride’s eyes unfocused for a moment. “I’m tired,” he whispered, his head lolling to the side.

  Lupo’s wolf jumped as Paride’
s puma staggered and fell on the ground.

  “They poisoned you. There must have been a drop of curare on the pencil. Not enough to paralyze you, but enough to make you and your puma weaker.” Lupo reached for Paride’s arms and gave him a shake.

  Startled, Paride straightened his head, his eyes wide open but veiled. “What—” His whole body sagged in Lupo’s hands. “Sleep…”

  Lupo swore, then said, “Rico means to visit you tonight, and he wants you compliant. You must fight this.”

  With a snarl, Lupo’s wolf coaxed the puma up, pressing his muzzle against the big cat’s flank. When the puma didn’t obey fast enough, Lupo’s wolf bit him. The puma yelped, but managed to remain on all fours for a few seconds before collapsing once again.

  The guard patrolling the courtyard called the hour by giving a whistle. “Everyone inside.”

  Raising his hand for the guard, Lupo shouted, “I need a doctor.”

  Two men from Rico’s corner left the group and hurried toward him and Paride, who was now unconscious in his arms.

  “We can help.” One of the two men, a werewolf with more scars on his face than tattoos on his arms—and they were many—reached out to ease Paride from Lupo’s hold.

  “Don’t touch him,” Lupo hissed as he kept staring at the guard.

  “I wouldn’t expect him to answer you,” the werewolf said. His mouth was filled with sharpened teeth covered in blood. It must have been painful to constantly cut his own tongue, relying on his shifter healing powers to mend the damage he inflicted on himself. Yet, the man smiled the parody of a smile. “The guard is too afraid of me.”

  “Go away.” A brief glance at the two men standing guard from the two turrets at the opposite corners of the wall told Lupo he couldn’t get away with shifting and taking care of the werewolf in front of him. He would be put in solitary and Paride would be alone and defenseless.

  “You better release the puma in my care,” the werewolf pressed, his hand on Paride’s shoulder.

  “Run.” Lupo’s growl was contained, and his alpha command just a whisper with a hint of fangs, but it had the desired effect.