Lupo (The Immortals Book 8)

by La Porta, Monica

  “I need to do something or I’ll go crazy. I need to see her.” I need to take her in my arms, and make sure with my eyes, with my nose, with my touch that I haven’t dreamed of that strip of fabric. Lupo shivered. What if he had imagined all of it? Hunger and dehydration could trigger hallucinations. He wouldn’t let his mind go down that route, and the only way out of it was focusing on what to do next. “Let’s go home,” he said when he gulped the last piece of turkey left. Before him, only empty plates, paper napkins, and torn packages of sugar.

  Half an hour later, the Jaguar parked in front of Casolare del Lupo’s main entry. All the staff greeted Lupo with a display of emotions he hadn’t expected. Soon after, Camelia told everyone the young alpha needed to rest and steered Lupo toward his apartments, while Ludwig and Quintilius disappeared into their conjoined studio.

  “Take your time. I’ll call you back for dinner.” Camelia hugged him tight, then left.

  Once alone in his quarters, Lupo leaned against the door, then sagged to the floor, head in his hands. He couldn’t delay his quest. Deep inside, he knew if he didn’t act now, Jasmine would be gone forever. After a quick shower that did nothing for his nerves, he checked the messages on his land line, and found one from Raphael, asking Lupo to call him back as soon as possible.

  While putting on a pair of jeans, he dialed his friend.

  Raphael answered at the first ring. “Lupo! How are you? We were all so worried—”

  “I’m fine,” Lupo said. “You sounded kind of frantic in that message you left.”

  “Give me a sec.” Doors were opened and closed, then Raphael said, “Can you leave the house?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I was contacted by Angel, and he said he needs to talk to you about Jasmine. He told me something about her that you should know, but Lupo, I don’t know if any of it—”

  “What did he say?” Lupo’s heart skipped a beat.

  It took Raphael a moment to answer. “That Jasmine didn’t die in the accident.”

  “Jasmine is alive.” Lupo’s eyes filled with tears. He hadn’t dreamed about a piece of fabric soaked with her scent.

  “I couldn’t believe him, but he said he can prove it, and that you need to see him.”

  “I’m going to the den.”

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lupo knocked at the open door of his fathers’ studio, and announced, “I’m meeting Angel at the den. He told Raphael he wants to talk to me about Jasmine.”

  Both Quintilius and Ludwig were on their phones, and ended their calls with a variation of, “I’ll call you back,” then gave Lupo their undivided attention.

  “We should come with you,” Quintilius said.

  “There’s no need.” Lupo raised one hand to pacify Ludwig, who looked none too pleased by his words. “Plus, I’d rather have you here, coordinating the enforcers, and pulling as many strings as you can.”

  “I still don’t like the idea of you going by yourself,” Ludwig said.

  Lupo massaged the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “I can’t do anything from here, and that’ll drive me and everyone else crazy. Just lend me a cell phone, and I’ll contact you as soon as I’ve talked to Angel.”

  Quintilius crossed his arms on the desk. “I don’t know, Lupo—”

  “Dad, I don’t want you to be worried, but I must go.” Lupo pushed himself away from the doorjamb.

  With a loud sigh, Quintilius nodded. “I understand. Just please be careful.” He reached for one of the desk’s drawers and rummaged for a few seconds, then produced a cell phone, and walked to the door. “Keep us informed.”

  “I will.” Lupo took the cell phone his father handed to him alongside a hug.

  Not even half an hour later, he was at the Promenade’s entrance he had used with Vera. As expected, the red door—that could only admit paranormals thanks to a magik spell—disappeared when he touched the plaque by the doorframe, and it was replaced by the ancient-looking wooden door.

  At the beginning of the tunnels, he shifted, and his wolf took him to the den in record time. Having had the foresight to make a bundle of his jeans and shirt for his wolf to carry, Lupo walked into the Recreation Hall fully clothed. There, he asked a group of frightened teenagers for Angel, who arrived soon after.

  “What do you know exactly?” Lupo asked as soon as the were-panther was at his side, bypassing pleasantries.

  “Let’s go to my place.” Angel made sign for him to follow.

  A short walk later, Lupo entered one of the few two-story buildings in the Den of Rejects. Although bigger, Angel’s house was reminiscent of Vera’s in the use of recycled materials and scarcity of furniture. A girl around eighteen years old greeted them in the kitchen. A little boy slept in the baby carrier she wore over her chest. She had one hand on the boy’s head, and with the other she was stirring the content of a pot with a wooden spoon.

  “Patrizia, this is Lupo—” Angel couldn’t finish the introductions, because the girl threw the spoon in the sink and ran toward Lupo.

  She didn’t throw herself at him only because of the baby, but she took Lupo’s hand and gave it a good squeeze. Her eyes filled with tears, and she moved her hand from her baby’s head to her heart. “Thank you for saving Paride,” she whispered between sobs.

  “You have nothing to thank me for.” Lupo patted her arm, then released her hand.

  “We have everything to thank you for,” Angel said. “And I’ll start repaying my debt tonight by reporting to you what Vera and Costanzo told me—”

  Lupo took a step back and raised one hand. “You saw Vera? When? And who’s Costanzo?”

  “Sit down.” Angel gestured toward the rickety-looking chairs by the table—a door panel that had been sanded and placed on wooden kickstands.

  Lupo didn’t have any desire to sit, but he did, folding his arms before him.

  Angel grabbed two beer bottles from the small fridge stuck between the stove—one of those enameled pieces from the fifties—and a wooden cupboard painted in three different shades of blue. “I talked to Vera this morning—” He placed one of the bottles in front of Lupo.

  Lupo’s eyes went to his right and to the ajar door behind which a staircase was visible.

  Angel followed Lupo’s gaze, then took a long sip from his beer. “She isn’t here any longer. In fact, she and Martino should have arrived at the safe place I arranged for them.”

  “I mean no harm to Vera, but she owes me answers.” Lupo unfolded his arms and clutched the edge of his seat with his hands.

  “I agree.” Angel finished his beer. “For what it’s worth, she felt she had no choice but to go along with the Purists’ blackmail.” He looked at Patrizia, then at the empty bottle before him. “Sometimes, we make decisions we later regret in the name of love.”

  “I’m not here to hold a trial over Vera’s actions.” Lupo shifted on his seat, relieving the pressure from his fingers that were numbing under his weight.

  “That’s good to know, because as much as I’m indebted to you, my rejects always come first, and I must protect them any way I can,” Angel said.

  Patrizia walked to the table with a milk bottle she gave Angel, she then took the baby from her carrier and deposited him into Angel’s arms.

  “Hi, baby.” Angel cradled the boy in his arms, then fed him.

  As much as Lupo enjoyed the family scene, he was anxious for the conversation to become productive. “What did Vera tell you?”

  Adjusting his position, Angel looked up from the boy. “She told me that Jasmine is alive, but you already know that from Costanzo—”

  “Costanzo is Jasmine’s cousin.”

  “Yes. Costanzo and Vera have known each other for a while, because Costanzo used to visit Martino quite often. Then, one day, Costanzo disappeared. At the time, we wondered what had happened to him, but people come and go quite often from our lives. Thi
s morning, when Costanzo came to talk to me alongside Vera, he told us his story. His family had discovered he had an impure friendship with one of the rejects and sent him away to a private prep school. One of those military-style academies where knowledge is imparted by severe beatings—”

  Despite his resolution not to scare the little boy by raising his voice, Lupo was at the end of his patience. “I don’t see how any of this is relevant to me.”

  Angel leaned to kiss the boy’s crown. “Costanzo’s story is connected to Vera’s, and to yours and your soulmate’s as well.”

  Lupo closed his eyes, breathed in and out, then looked back at Angel, and said, “Go on.”

  With a nod, Angel resumed his tale. “Costanzo was badly beaten and gave away Martino’s name and whereabouts in the process, but as soon as he was able to walk again, he contacted Vera to warn her. It was too late. Costanzo’s family had already reached her. At first, she was only told to seek employment in Quintilius’s enterprise and keep her mouth shut if she wanted to see her brother grow up to adulthood. She asked me to put a good word with Quintilius, which I did, not knowing anything else. Then you were out of prison and she was ordered to befriend you, but you didn’t play along. She realized you were still in love with Jasmine and started having second thoughts, but the Purists reminded her of what they could do to Martino by sequestering him for a few hours. The next day, she was ordered to deliver you to them or her brother would disappear forever.”

  “That’s what she told you today.” Lupo finally grabbed the now lukewarm beer in front of him.

  “Correct.” Angel moved the baby to his shoulder and gently patted the boy’s back, until he burped. “Good job, Marco,” he cooed.

  “What happened next?”

  “When pictures of you and Vera appeared in newspapers and on TV, Costanzo realized something had gone horribly wrong, and taking advantage of the fact that he was allowed back in Rome for your trial, he looked for her. He found her before his family could reach her, and that’s how she’s still alive. Vera told Costanzo about you and the fact you never betrayed Jasmine, and he decided you deserved to know about Jasmine.”

  “What else did he say?” Lupo’s stomach was tied in a knot, and he put down the beer he couldn’t drink.

  “Costanzo wrote down an address for you.” Moving the baby to the other side, Angel reached for his front pocket, then placed on the table a piece of paper all wrinkled and splotched with coffee rings. “He also said that Jasmine’s family will move out of the country tomorrow morning.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Lupo was out of Angel’s house and already running toward the tunnels, when Raphael appeared from around the corner.

  Breathless, he stopped before Lupo and crouched low, hands on his knees. “Sorry, Alexander stopped me at the door. I had to explain where I was going and why, and it took me some time.”

  “I got an address in Venice and I’m driving up north.” Lupo resumed his jogging, and Raphael reached him a moment later.

  “I’m coming with you,” Raphael said.

  “This is my fight. I don’t want you to get caught in the middle of it. Jasmine’s family is capable of anything—”

  “I won’t let you go alone.” Without breaking stride, Raphael sent a text. “I told Alexander.” His fingers flew on the screen. “And Luisa.”

  “Thanks—” Lupo was moved by Raphael’s willingness to help, but was also concerned about him tagging along.

  As if reading Lupo’s mind, Raphael patted his arm. “Don’t worry about me. I know how to fight. Remember?”

  “Let’s go then.” Lupo sent his own text to his fathers, added the address Costanzo had written down for him, then charged ahead without waiting for their replies. As he had done for more than a year, regardless of the results, he also tried to contact Jasmine, but she didn’t answer his mental call.

  Later, riding at breakneck speed along the Del Sole Highway, Lupo realized he didn’t have a plan. In his haste to act, he hadn’t thought of what to do next. Hunger and fatigue made the drive dangerous, especially at the velocity he was pushing his Katana. He skirted cars, trucks, semis, other bikes, as if they were mosquitoes on his windshield. Behind him, Raphael followed with his red Ducati Monster, executing the same maneuvers with ease.

  On their way to Venice, they had to exit the highway a few times to refill the tanks, and drink some coffee.

  On one of those stops, Raphael interrupted Lupo’s constant thoughts of Jasmine by asking, “Where are we going to park the bikes?”

  Lupo gave him a raised eyebrow. Parking was the least of his worries.

  What he would do once he finally found her had been filling his mind with different scenarios, none of which was easy to execute. He didn’t know anything about the place she was being kept—because for not making an attempt to contact him, she must have been imprisoned. Any other explanation was too painful to contemplate. Yet, unwanted thoughts entered his mind, poisoning him with doubts about her being alive, despite the truth his nose had told him with no uncertain terms. But what if the cousin had used magik to trick him into believing the impossible? Who knew the depth of magik power? What if her family was in fact torturing him with a false hope only to lead him to his death? Yet again, the happenings at the temple hadn’t looked staged. And Angel wouldn’t be part of the scheme, would he? Vera—she wouldn’t be that cruel to betray him twice…

  “Venice is a pedestrian-only kind of city. It’s all built on small islands and connected by bridges. We must leave our wheels behind,” Raphael said, drinking his fourth espresso of the evening.

  As if showered with a bucket full of ice, Lupo came back from his dark brooding and uttered a string of curses. He then opened his cell phone, gave a brief look at the texts from his fathers urging him to be cautious and wait for them before doing anything, then looked for directions to the closest car park to the city. There were a few on the mainland, but then they would have to catch a train or bus or vaporetto, water taxi, into Venice. They would arrive too late at night and there would be no rides anymore. And even if they could catch a ride it would add to their travelling time.

  “We’ll still have to grab a ride to enter Venice, but the Tronchetto’s garage seems to be our best option. It’s by the city limits and we won’t have to take the train.” Cell phone in hand, Raphael showed him his search, pointing at the dot on the map where the car park was.

  Lupo nodded, then tapped on his phone’s screen, looking for a map of Venice. As Raphael had just told him, the city was made of minuscule islets that formed the various sestieri, city districts, and were connected by both bridges and rii, water ways. “This is a logistic nightmare.”

  “What is Jasmine’s address?” Raphael asked, already opening the directions app.

  “Calle Carnaro 125, Rio de S. Elena, Sestiere Castello, Venice,” Lupo read out loud.

  “That doesn’t sound right.” Raphael looked up from the screen.

  “That’s what Costanzo wrote.” Fear gripped Lupo, and his stomach contracted in a painful cramp.

  Raphael squinted at the map, then zoomed in on the large portion of the city that was called Castello and was opposite the parking garage. “He gave you not only the address, but directions as well.” He selected the street view, then pointed at the farthest lagoon attached to Castello by a bridge. “This is Rio de S. Elena, which is the water way we’ll have to cross to reach Calle Carnaro.”

  Lupo sighed in relief, then traced with his fingers the route between Piazzale Roma, where the parking garage was located, and their final destination. “Isn’t it going to take too long to wait for the water taxi, then navigate all the way to the end of sestiere Castello?”

  Raphael shook his head. “Venice is a labyrinth. You think that you can cross the city from point A to point B in a straight line, but every sestiere is made of a multitude of small islands. We could end up running in circles, crossing the same bridge more than once or getting stuck in a dead end. No, th
e fastest way is by water.”

  “Have you been in Venice before?”

  Raphael smiled. “Nope. But it’s Luisa’s dream to vacation there one day, so we spent a few afternoons virtually touring the city.”

  Lupo couldn’t help but smile too as he mounted his Katana.

  “Maybe one day, the four of us could spend a day or two in Venice.” Raphael lowered his helmet, and gave his bike a good rev.

  “I’d love that.” Did you hear that, Jasmine? Lupo inserted the key in the engine’s slot. “Now, let’s get my panther back.” Galvanized by the fact that he now had, at least, a clearer concept of where he was headed, Lupo approached the last stretch of the trip with renewed hope.

  By the time they reached the western edge of the city, almost six hundred kilometers later, Lupo and his bike were both running on fumes. He had refused further stops if not for refueling, and covered the whole distance from Rome to Venice in less than five hours. The visor of his helmet was covered with a thick layer of dead bugs, and he had driven for the last hour with the plastic shield up, blinking away everything that flew at his face. As a result, his eyes were red and irritated, and his vision blurry.

  As they entered the enormous garage, a sign boasted that Tronchetto was the biggest parking facility in all of Europe. Yet, they had to circumnavigate the place for a few minutes before finding a spot. If it weren’t for the fact that he would need transportation later, Lupo would have ditched his beloved Katana in order to be on his way to rescue Jasmine.

  Before he could remove his helmet, Lupo had to pry open his hands and massage his stiff fingers until blood circulated again, and he could move them. Dismounting wasn’t easy either. His legs buckled, and he swayed when both his feet touched the ground. “I might need some more coffee and a lot of sugar with it.”

  Raphael took a few steps toward Lupo, in a drunken stride. “Caffeine sounds great. Not sure we’ll find anything open though.” Then he led Lupo to the edge of the garage’s open floor, and pointed at the sleeping city in front of them. “We made it.”