The Executioner: Part One

by Ana Calin

  “But all he can make is false promises. He doesn’t have any power, and he can give you nothing. He’s nothing but a pawn. Should he ever claim differently and try to get his sleazy hands on you, I’ll burn him alive.”

  “Let go of me,” I managed.

  Damian’s hand moved from my face to the back of my head, sinking in my hair. He massaged my nape gently while his tongue swept over his upper lip, sending my butterflies wild.

  “Know this, Alice – if there’s anyone you’ll ever have to sleep with for advantage, it’s me.”

  The statement struck me like lightning. I got goose bumps all over. The way he said those words, the way they left his mouth.

  “Why are you doing this?” I whispered, unable to believe there was any way he actually meant it. Maybe he only played with me as punishment for ranting on his affair with Svetlana. The affair with Svetlana . . . With renewed spite I tried to wiggle out of his grip.

  “Cut the charade.”

  But his clasp didn’t loosen. On the contrary, my chair scraped the floor as he pulled it closer, then he yanked me into his arms. They wrapped around my body, all hard muscle.

  “When you stumbled into my arms with a glass of wine, Alice Preda, I saw a pretty girl with sweet freckles trying to act the diva. But I have to say, that ostentatious red lipstick on your sweet little face, your shy yet witty tongue in the bathroom, I barely held back a hard-on.”

  Who the hell are you and what did you do with Damian Novac!? Horny instead of offended, I stared speechless at this devil whose eyes glinted like those of an angry beast.

  “That night I jerked off, you know? I jerked off thinking of you, of your skin, of the shape of your breasts under the top, and that way you spoke, of the way your hand moved up and down as you rubbed my shirt.”

  His breath deepened, his index finger tracing the shape of my cheek, the sensation shooting down to my lower belly. “I wanted you, Alice. And with every time we interacted I wanted you more. Soon I wanted you so badly that it hurt. It was only out of respect for your father that I didn’t do you to last me a lifetime when I had the chance. Remember? In the mountains? Yes, I sensed you wanted me as you lay in my arms.

  “I wanted you even as I watched you on the hospital bed. It wasn’t easy to keep it in my pants all this time. But now, since you’re willing to play a dangerous game anyway, I’ll gladly take the chance and have you spread your legs for me in exchange for, say, not ripping Anghel’s head off.”

  I nodded as I finally saw what he was doing, though my heart still thumped and my face burned. So much for “I don’t do lying”.

  “You had me for a moment there,” I said with a forced grin, brushing his hand off my face. “But trust me, not all men have this kind of acting skill, and I don’t usually fall for words of passion, not after my life experience.”

  He didn’t react, eyes intense on mine.

  “Still,” I continued, praying without a hope the heat in my cheeks didn’t show in their color, “you need to understand that I won’t live like a hermit. I want a life. I need a life.”

  Damian let me go and leaned back in his chair. Arms folded across his chest, and eyes slowly regaining the sovereign composure that defined him, he smiled. It wasn’t friendly or the smile of a mentor who’d finally brought his student to the desired conclusion, but rather the warning of a bully.

  “Maybe there will come a time when you’ll be able to have a life, but it’s not now. Pay attention, Alice. Rule number one. I see a guy as much as hold your hand, I put him in the hospital – just in case.

  “Before we come to rule number two, there are some things you need to understand. The gas turned on certain powers in your mind and body. In time they’ll wilt, but right now they can put you in trouble. Back at the hospital in Brașov, your dad had you and your friends on very strong sedatives in order to keep you in bed and looking sick. Otherwise you would’ve recovered from the frost, jumped up and stormed the place as if nothing. The press would’ve easily found out about your odd case, and it would’ve been really difficult for your dad, the R.I.S. and even me and my people to restore ignorance, so to say. Therefore rule number two that you’ll have to live by is no standing out. You’ll have to keep the charms your brain activated in check, and spare poor imbeciles like Anghel and Dimples.

  “Rule number three. You notice anyone suspicious around you, you let me know immediately.” Without asking for permission, he grabbed my bag from the rest of my chair and opened it. I wanted to yell an angry “Hey!” and snatch it back, but then I didn’t.

  He typed a number – probably his own – into my cell phone agenda. “No matter the time, you call me. Rule number four. No police involvement, for their own sakes. I don’t think I have to draw you a picture of how helpless Sorescu, his men, and even Hector Varlam are in this story.”

  Hearing the name, curiosity spiked. “Did you know? That he was with the national Intelligence Service?”

  Still typing with his thumb, “I did.”

  “Since when?”

  “I knew the entire time.”

  I snorted. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t possibly keep a ‘file’ on everyone, and besides, I highly doubt that the R.I.S. would be so transparent.”

  “I’m not alone Alice, I told you. I have the Order of Lords backing me up, and all their resources at my disposal.”

  Dropping the cell back into my bag, he changed the subject. “Rule number five. No wandering around. Keep it to home and campus for a while.”

  “For how long?”

  “For as long as necessary.”

  “What if I need to go to the library?” My intentions since I’d left Dr. Barbu’s class returned to mind.

  “The library shouldn’t be a problem, as long as you do it on daylight. No going out in the evenings.”

  “Not even my dad imposed such restrictions on me.”

  “And look where that got you. You have the attention of highly dangerous people, Alice.”

  Including yours, only not the way I’d hoped. I bit into my lip again, fighting the frustration away. Further discussion was obviously pointless. “I understand.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The food just wouldn’t slide down my throat. Maybe it stuck because of Damian’s domineering attitude, or because of the entire place staring at us, but what I knew for sure was that I felt uncomfortable.

  To add to the awkwardness, Damian insisted not only to help me into my coat, but also wrap the shawl and fix the bonnet on my head as if I were a helpless kid, then lead me out with a possessive arm around my back. It made things unmistakably clear for Mr. Dimples. No question the boy had been observing our body language – Damian’s hand on my thigh, our heads close together, me plastered to his chest as he closed his arms around me and set longing loose in my body, but the handsome barbarian still had to make a final point.

  In the car I couldn’t keep from staring at Damian, a huge frame whose head reached the ceiling, his jaw hard, his eyes glassy and cold. His features, perfectly sculpted, seemed imbued with the ruthlessness of a hitman indeed. Impossible that the passion he’d shown me was real. Impossible that he requited my infatuation.

  I still gave this open wound spins as he pulled up in front of my parents’ house. I hoped for a sign from his part, a gentle touch, a smile, no matter, something. But he looked away from me, cool and detached as he spoke.

  “Say hi to your mom for me, will you?”

  “Sure,” I muttered and cracked the door. I did it in slow motion, hoping he’d take the chance and add something more personal. He suddenly reached over and slammed the door back shut, startling the crap out of me.

  Before I knew it he put his arm around my shoulders, his face big and close, his lips inches from mine. I blinked fast in surprise.

  “On a second thought,” he murmured, his breath warm on my face, “I do need a little something that’ll seal our agreement.”

  “Agreement?” I mumbled.

  �
��See, you forget. That’s why I need a token that you’ll comply with the, what did we call them again? Rules. How many were they?”

  “Umm . . . Five?”

  “Five indeed. What was the first one?”

  My thoughts spinning, I couldn’t place any of them. “I didn’t exactly mark the sequence.”

  “You better, because I listed them in the order of importance. You are to discourage any man who courts you, for safety and prevention reasons – the first rule. And as fate will have it, here is my chance to aid you in the endeavor this very evening.”

  He leaned even closer, brushing my ear with his lips and sending current through my body. “Anton Anghel is hanging by the bar across the street, beer bottle in hand, talking to Sorescu’s men. I take it he’s been there for a while now, waiting for you to return home, since I gather he didn’t even dare ask your mom to let him wait inside. Considering your history, I mean.”

  I looked over Damian’s shoulder. The street was dark, but the lonely bulb hanging from a wire above the entrance to the dump cast a cone of hazy white over three big-bellied figures.

  “He didn’t even call me,” I muttered under my breath.

  “He did, but your phone was on silent, and I erased the calls when I saved my number in your agenda.”

  Emotion surged in my belly, but I struggled to repress it. “Don’t you think you’re taking too many liberties?”

  “I’m taking protection measures.” Damian caressed my chin with a gentle finger, and my judgment instantly clouded. “Let’s paint Tony boy a picture that should stick with him, shall we?”

  I had no idea what he meant but, under the spell of his touch, I responded to all his actions without protest. I waited in the car until he walked around to my side, opened the door and held out a hand to help me out.

  The way he kept his arm around me as we walked to the front door sent my heart thumping again, but this time things felt different than at Marvimex or Café d’Art. Damian emanated a different kind of tension.

  I couldn’t believe it when, once under the overhang, he spun me round and closed his arms around me, pulling me to his chest that felt like concrete beneath his trench coat.

  I stared wide-eyed at his face, a perfect sculpture that hovered over me, framed by raven locks. I don’t know at which point I realized he was going to kiss me, but, when I did, I stopped breathing. And the instant I felt the stone-smooth touch of Damian Novac’s lips on mine, my legs turned to jelly.

  His kiss was unexpectedly gentle, his mouth warm as it softened and molded mine. I tinged him with the tip of my tongue, my buds opening like flowers at the slightly metallic taste of his lips.

  He took his time as if savoring the feel of me, then grew bolder on my lips, taking them between his over and over again. His tongue kept shy of mine, but with one huge hand he cupped my head possessively, while his other arm tightened around my waist, crushing me against him. I understood he granted his instincts some freedom, but fought to control himself at the same time, like keeping attack dogs on long leashes. My mind clouded, completely the prisoner of Damian’s kiss and of his arms until I had no air left.

  Damian loosened his embrace, then clasped my shoulders to hold me steady. He pulled away, but still planted thirsty pecks on my lips as if our mouths had a will of their own and didn’t want to separate.

  When I pushed my lids open, Damian Novac looked at me with brows scrunched in what I interpreted as restraint that seemed to hurt. His lips were slightly reddened from our kiss, lending an angelic touch to his perfectly carved, strong-boned barbarian look. Damian Novac just kissed me . . .

  “This should make things clear for Mr. Anghel,” he said, his voice low and throaty.

  I searched his eyes and relished in their kindling. I understood he’d done this to “help” keep Tony away from me, but I didn’t really care. He wanted me, I’d sensed that. As I sensed he fought back lust. I can give him a hard-on like Beauty-Queen, too.

  “Yes, that should do it,” I whispered, referring to the gratification of knowing I had him hooked at least for a few moments. But he surely thought I was talking about Tony.

  Only after Damian pulled away from me and walked out the gate did the winter air begin to cool me down. Until I closed the door behind me he hadn’t driven away though – probably making sure I wouldn’t leave again once he was gone.

  I slapped my back against the door and trickled down with a drunken smile on my face. I stayed there on my butt, a fantasizing idiot, until Mom found me. She was so eager to know how my evening with Damian had gone that she unwrapped the shawl and took off my coat herself, then led me to the couch.

  The TV was on. Leona kept Mom company. A pleasant surprise to see George had joined them as well, even though he still wore the same pajamas he had the entire week, his hair a rumpled heap, his narrow face drawn and pale.

  Too ecstatic about tonight, I couldn’t keep the main part to myself, and told them about the kiss over jasmine tea, my cheeks burning in the homely warmth. Mom clapped her hands and giggled like a schoolgirl, while Leona was torn between smiles and frowns. George gawked, confused.

  “So you’re with Damian Novac now?” he inquired.

  “Well, I don’t think I’m ‘with him’,” I said, reality striking back. It wasn’t welcome, I wished I could’ve dreamt a little longer. “I mean we kissed, but from that to being together. . . It’s a long way.”

  I immediately regretted having spilled the beans. I’d made tonight look like a date, which wasn’t the case, and now everybody, especially Mom, had expectations. So I changed the direction of our talk using Damian’s strategy – I started asking questions, addressing most of them to George. In the end, this was the first time he joined us since we’d returned from Brașov.

  “The nightmares are lighter,” he said. “I know I have the medication to thank for that, but –” He looked sideward at Leona and took her hand. “Being with Leo seems to be the best kind of therapy.”

  He even laughed a few times. He looked carefree those moments, yet not the same young man he used to be. He appeared older.

  As for Leona, she gave George half-hearted and, I daresay, fake smiles. Maybe she had trouble forgiving him for the incident in the mountains but, when we finally had time alone much later that night – she had to share George’s couch until he fell asleep – it turned out something else held priority on her mind.

  “Hector needs your help,” were the words that startled me from my fantasies of Damian at around two o’clock, when Leona barged into my room.

  “Geez, you scared the life out of me!”

  “Then brace yourself, for what I’m about to tell ya will send quite a few nightmares down your street.” She dropped on the bed by my side and glanced to the window behind her as if somebody might be spying on us. “Hector says Novac’s patrons, the Order of Lords, are just as dangerous as BioDhrome. Under their umbrella, Novac plans a bloodbath against BioDhrome’s people. Hector doesn’t know exactly when and where, but there’s no doubt that in such a confrontation many innocent lives will be lost. But there’s hope! Hector’s convinced Novac has a thing for you, and he wants you to help prevent the slaughter.”

  I stared at her in shock. “What is this, freaking James Bond on S.F. scale?”

  “Damian Novac is no less a villain than BioDhrome. Talk to Hector, have him show you everything he’s shown me. Damian Novac runs dirty affairs, Alice, even with the government.”

  “What?”

  “Just a few nights ago, the Minister of Defense himself came to Constanța in complete secrecy, only to have a private meeting behind steel doors with none other than Damian Novac.”

  The info stuck like too big a bite in my throat, and prevented me to make a sound.

  “As the agent who knew Novac’s case and the man himself best,” Leona continued, “Hector went with something like a S.W.A.T. team to bring Novac in at around midnight. The Ministry has such special interest in the man because of what BioDh
rome made of him, something that became a matter of national security a decade ago – the Executioner.” She paused for the effect. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was stubborn.

  “Hector had to escort Novac to a block of flats by the seafront,” Leona went on. “He and his men waited on the landing on the highest floor while Novac spoke behind soundproof doors with the Minister. There’s something huge going on here, Alice. Something that will cost many innocent lives, like it almost cost us ours back in the mountains. But even though the Executioner has the support of corrupt ministers, Hector and his people from the R.I.S. are willing to fight and take down the hydra. And you could play a huge part in it.”

  I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head to the side, inspecting Leona. “And how come he told you all this? Hector, I mean. No offense, but you’re just an anonymous student, a civilian. It’s not common to trust civilians with this kind of information.”

  She smiled with deeper meaning, then sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Hector and I, we’re both gypsies, Alice, and, as you know, blood runs thick for us.”

  I smiled. “You think he has a thing for you?”

  “I hope he has a thing for me.”

  That yanked the curtain of doubt aside. “As you do for him.”

  Leona’s cheeks went dark cherry. She looked to the window, hiding her eyes.

  She didn’t talk about her feelings that night, though. I guess she wasn’t ready. We chewed on the story she’d presented until she was lost to exhaustion and light snores. I’d had a long day and the hell of an emotionally demanding evening myself, but I barely managed a few hours of sleep.

  ***

  Dawn washed over the bald contour of the knotty old apple tree, and the first feeling I felt when I opened my eyes was ecstasy unleashed at the memory of Damian’s kiss. Only for Tony’s eyes, I remembered, the morning happiness deflating, and my brain switching on.

  I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth and struggled with my hair. I finally managed to restrain it in a ponytail, jumped in a fluffy black knit mom had gotten for me, and a pair of comfortable jeans and boots. I grabbed my coat and backpack, and dashed out the front door before breakfast or seeing anyone’s face. I texted Leona from the bus, a concise message: “Library, checking Dr. N. Sinclair.”