The Broken Angel (16 page)

After turning back to her desk and repositioning the items scattered on it, she felt ready for a brief stroll downstairs to the bar on the ground floor. She left her cell on the desk to avoid punching Samuel’s number one more time. She forwent the elevator and headed to the wide marble staircase leading directly to the foyer, then entered the deserted bar. She had just nodded at Lucia, the bar owner and only employee of the small establishment, when her full name was called. Lucia’s eyes widened and Martina turned on her heels to face two policemen walking toward her.

The taller of the two men, stopped before her. “Martina Colonna, you are asked to answer to the accusation of physical attack against Giulio Severi.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

The other policeman stepped by her side, handcuffs dangling from his right hand, the left resting on his gun holstered to his hip. “We don’t need to use this if you follow us to the precinct without making a scene.”

“I can’t believe this.” Martina automatically went looking for her cell phone, but she was only holding her wallet. “I must go upstairs to grab my purse.”

The policeman who had talked first snatched the wallet from her hand, opened it, and searched it. “You got all you need here.” He showed the other her driver’s license. “Let’s go.” Without handing her wallet back to her, he circled her right elbow with a tight grip and led her outside the bar, exiting from the street side.

Flanked by the two men, Martina was pushed out of the glass doors and into a lateral alley where rarely anyone walked by, closed on three sides by her office building’s back façade and another two buildings’. A police car was parked by the garbage bins.

“Where are you taking me?” Martina looked over her shoulder.

The policeman’s hold on her arm tightened. “To the precinct. Get inside.”

“What precinct?” She tried to stop, but the man pulled her forward and toward the car as the rear door opened.

“Shut up.” The man pushed her inside the car.

Martina found herself staring at her ex-husband.

Giulio sat with a gun resting on his left thigh. “Hi, Martina.”

She blinked. “What are you doing?”

Giulio smiled at her, one hand caressing the gun. “I told you I need a second chance at making things right with you.”

In any other circumstance, her first instinct would be to react, but she saw the manic light in his eyes and the nervous tension he emanated. “Where are you taking me?”

He raised his eyes heavenward. When he looked back at her, the red in his pupil was hard to miss, even in the dim light of the car. “To our house, my love.”

She felt nausea wreaking havoc in her stomach. “You should let me go.”

Giulio’s hand left his thigh to wander on the seat and brush her pants. “No, I don’t think so. We already missed our wedding anniversary. We’ll celebrate our union tonight as it was meant to be.” He waited for the two policemen to sit in the front, then gave them the okay to leave.

Martina adjusted her legs away from him. His touch, even shielded by the thick fabric of her jeans, nauseated her. “How much did you pay them?”

He took the gun and caressed her arm with it. “You, my dear wife, are worth every cent I spent on bribing Rome’s finest.”

She noticed how the two men’s backs stiffened at his words. “Please, let me out. I promise I won’t talk about this with anyone. Just pull over. I’ll get out and I’ll forget everything.” They were only a block from her office. Afternoon traffic was already crowding the streets.

Giulio laughed and pressed the gun to Martina’s hip. “That’s my girl. So resilient. You never stop fighting, do you? Not even when you know you’ve already lost. Those two gentlemen were up to here in debts.” He raised his free hand, palm down to his head. “And who do you think paid their debts in full?” He let his hand drop to the seat. “That’s right. They owe
me
now.”

She pressed her back against the seat and let him think she had resigned herself, hoping she could come up with something, anything that would help her escape. The drive lasted forty minutes in which she thought of every possible method of jumping out of the car. She would rather break her neck in the fall than enter Giulio’s house. Any time she saw him slightly distracted, her hand shot toward the handle, her body covering her maneuvers. He would then shift his weight and his gun would press down on her hip. Once they reached Monte Mario, the car slowed and stopped before the Elysium, the most exclusive building complex in Rome. The last three floors plus the attic with the panoramic view over Saint Peter belonged to Giulio’s family. The attic had been Giulio’s wedding gift from his parents.

“Home sweet home. At last.” Giulio told the policeman to drive around and enter the underground garage, then handed him a permit card the man swiped on a black box over the entrance’s column. Giulio had the man drive before his personal entry. He dismissed the two men by slapping their backs, then the officer not driving walked around and opened Martina’s door.

Martina found herself under the aim of two guns, and without saying a word, she exited the car. Giulio was at her side a moment later, and still with the gun pointed at her, he grabbed her arm and walked toward his elevator. As the elevator’s door closed behind her, she also heard the police car screeching away from the garage.

“You look different today.” Giulio gave her a thorough look, then his brows furrowed. “What did you do?”

Martina closed her eyes for a moment.

“What did you do, Martina? You look so much better than yesterday. You look radiant.” Giulio had now grabbed her arms with both his hands, and the hard contour of the gun was painfully pressed against her arm, just slightly under her elbow.

“Please, Giulio. Let me go. You don’t want me as a wife. I can’t give you kids.” She spoke as soft and calm as she could manage, but floor by floor, panic rose in her chest.

“What are you hiding from me?” He leaned over her, his nose brushing first her temple, then the arch of her throat. “You slept with that cripple.” His fingers pressed so hard, she yelped. “I can smell man on you.” He released her left arm to raise his hand against her.

She saw the slap coming, but confined by his hand and the small space, she couldn’t step out of the way. He hit her hard enough to send her backward against the elevator’s wall. The metal décor with the Severi’s family insignia left a mark on the back of her head. He hit her twice more, sending her sideways both times. She felt the blood seeping out from a cut on her lower lip. When she thought of fighting him back, he reminded her he had gun by pressing its muzzle against her temple.

They finally reached Giulio’s attic. He dragged her through the apartment’s foyer, then all the way to his bedroom at the end of the hallway. The windows were open and Saint Peter’s Dome was illuminated by a golden sunset. When Giulio had showed her the apartment the first time, Martina had thought she was living proof that fairytales existed.

Now, she knew nightmares were real too.

Finally out of his office and walking to his car in the underground garage, Samuel turned on his cell and found he had several missed calls from Martina. He listened to her message saying she was done for the day, and called her back, but she didn’t answer. The traffic was heavy, but her office wasn’t far from Castel Sant’ Angelo. He called her once more when he was one block from her building, then resigned himself to the idea he had to find a parking spot, which, not surprisingly, took more than ten minutes. On his way to her office, he noticed several restaurants. He was hungry and made a mental note to ask her if she wanted to grab dinner on the go and eat at his place.

He walked inside the law firm and went straight to her office. When he didn’t find her there, he knocked on several doors to see if any of her colleagues were still around. Nobody answered. His uneasiness grew, but he kept his dark thoughts at bay. After having paced the whole length of the firm twice, he found the janitor from the day before.

He waved at the older man, who was opening the personnel-only door leading to the external stairs. “Excuse me, sir. Have you seen Ms. Colonna?”

The janitor raised his face and acknowledged Samuel with a nod. “Yes, I saw her. Maybe an hour ago. She was entering the bar as I was heading up to clean.”

Samuel thanked the man and ran down to the ground floor. He entered the bar, but the place was as deserted as the offices upstairs. Hearing some noise coming from behind the counter he walked to it. “Is there anyone here?”

A woman in her thirties wearing a white apron above a black shirt appeared from under the counter. “Hi, we’re closing, but if you want a coffee, I can still make it for you.”

Samuel shook his head and smiled. “No, thanks. I’m looking for a friend of mine, Ms. Colonna, and I was wondering if you saw her. The janitor told me he saw her entering your bar.”

The woman’s face darkened, her expression changing from polite interest to worry. “Yes, she was here. Two policemen came and took her away.”

He was taken aback by the woman’s words. “What?”

“Yes, they said something about having to follow them to the precinct for attacking a man. Or something like that. They left from that door.” She indicated the glass door leading directly outside to an alley. “I saw the police car drive away a moment later.”

Samuel asked a few more questions, but the woman didn’t know anything else. He thanked her and walked back to his car, worried sick for Martina, but hoping he could call in a few favors and get her out of this mess without further repercussions. Once in his car, he checked on his phone where the neighborhood precinct was, then looked for the name of the paranormal working in that precinct. He was in luck.

Upon entering the squat and unadorned precinct of Vescovio Square—one of those old police houses which architecture immediately showed their function—he asked for Mario Valenti, a were-panther he had worked with in a double homicide case a few years back. A young policeman led him down a brightly illuminated hallway, resplendent in white and matching the exterior in color. Samuel was left before a dark door sporting Valenti’s name on a brass tag. After knocking, he entered and smiled at the thin shifter behind the desk. “Mario, how are you?”

The man rose from his chair to take Samuel’s proffered hand. “I’m doing okay. What about you?” He gestured for him to sit on one of the two chairs available.

Samuel took one, and although he was full of nervous energy and would have rather paced through the room, he sat. “I have a favor to ask.”

Mario smiled and opened his hands before him. “If I can help, I will.”

“I have a friend of mine, a human, who was attacked by her ex-husband. I intervened and it seems I made things worse for her.”

“Let me guess, you beat the crap out of him and the husband is reporting her?”

Samuel shifted on the seat. “Yes. I was told she was brought here to be questioned.” Samuel tilted his head toward the door. “Is there any way you can pull some strings and have her released? It was all my fault. She’s just a victim here. I mean the ex was about to rape her when I came in.”

“The way I see it, that scumbag should be questioned, not your friend.” Mario picked up the handset of the light-gray phone sitting on his desk and started punching numbers. “What’s her name?”

“Martina Colonna.” Samuel sat on the edge of his chair and listened to the brief conversation Mario conducted over the phone. He watched as Mario’s eyebrow furrowed and he made a puzzled face at him.

Mario hung up. The handset clanked on the rigid plastic of the phone. “There are no records of a Martina Colonna called in for questioning—”

“Maybe she was taken to a different precinct?”

Mario shook his head. “She wasn’t taken anywhere. There are no entries for a Martina Colonna in the data system. Whoever told you she was brought here either lied or was led to believe so.” He rhythmically knocked both fisted hands on the desk. “I’m sorry. Do you need anything else?”

“I don’t think so, but thanks.” Samuel stood, reached for the door, then, his hand already lowering the handle, he turned. “Actually, yes. There’s something I need. Can you give me Giulio Severi’s address?”

“I assume he is the ex, right?” Mario turned toward the computer, started typing on the keyboard then abruptly stopped, and looked at Samuel from under his lashes. “Is he from
the
Severi family?”

Samuel nodded. “Full disclosure, he
is
a Severi, but I’ll inform Quintilius on what I’m about to do.”

Mario canted his head. “Okay then, but make sure to have Quintilius’s approval to do anything.”

Samuel nodded again, although he had no intentions of asking permission from anyone to kill Severi if he had hurt Martina.

A few minutes later, he was calling Quintilius while driving at breakneck speed toward Monte Mario, the exclusive neighborhood where Giulio Severi owned a pricey attic.

“If you’re calling to know the results from the DNA test, it is still early.” Quintilius had answered at the first ring.

“No, I’m calling for a personal issue. I might need some political support in dealing with a human.” Samuel honked at a car that hadn’t moved out of his way fast enough and had forced him to stop at a red.

“Why are you calling me?”

Samuel skirted three cars and almost hit a fourth coming from the opposite direction. “Because the human belongs to the Severi family and I know you have dealings with them.”

“Why would I side with you?”

“Because Giulio Severi, the son of the patriarch of the family, tried to harm a friend of mine. I stopped him from hurting her several times, but I have reasons to believe he kidnapped her.”

A few second of silence were followed by a loud sigh. “I need to know more about this.”

Samuel told him Martina’s story. He had almost reached his destination when he finished recounting her ordeal.

Quintilius listened without interrupting him, and at the end he said, “If there is something I don’t abide by, it is standing idly before injustice. Women and children should never suffer harm at the hands of the ones who should keep them safe. You have my full support before the Immortal Council. Deal with this matter as you wish. I’ll also contact the Severis. I don’t do business with people who help rapists and wife-beaters. The Severis will also have to answer regarding their brat using drugs. That alone would’ve been a deal breaker for me. I don’t associate with anyone who would bring public disgrace on my empire. But the fact that vampire blood is the man’s drug of choice raises several alarm bells, and I will have to investigate how humans are getting their hands on a paranormal substance they shouldn’t even know exists.”

Even if he hadn’t sought after it, having obtained the werewolf’s blessing, Samuel left the car with his heart lighter. He had to wait for a couple to enter the building, then ran the six flight of stairs without thinking of what he would do next if Martina wasn’t there. He had acted on a hunch and hoped for Martina’s sake he had been right. He knocked on Giulio’s door several times, pounding on the black wooden surface. Not concerned about nosy neighbors, Severi’s apartment—like his own—occupied the whole attic floor, Samuel called his name and Martina’s out loud. Then he strained his sensitive ears for any sound that would reveal if anyone was home.

A faint, feminine moan passed through the door. Samuel stepped back, then charged it with his right shoulder and took it down. He followed the soft cries to a bedroom, where the first thing he saw was Martina. Naked, bleeding from a cut on her lower lip, and with red welts all over her body, she lay on the bed, restrained by ropes tied around her wrists and ankles and secured to the bed’s posts. Her ex, a belt in his hand, and his pants lowered to his knees, knelt between her open legs.

Martina’s dazed eyes turned toward him. “Samuel.”

Giulio took Samuel by surprise by attacking without warning, and with a strength a mere human shouldn’t have. One glance at the man’s crazed, red eyes told Samuel everything he needed to know. Giulio was under the effects of vampire blood and lots of it, judging from his grip. Samuel grabbed Giulio by his waist and threw him against the wall, freeing himself from the man’s hold. Giulio landed on his feet and launched himself at Samuel, punching him with both hands. Samuel felt several punches hit their targets, and although the man was borrowing super-human strength from the drug, Giulio was still no match for an angel. Despite that, Giulio still managed to land a few kicks and a vicious punch to Samuel’s left kidney. Finally, Samuel pushed the man to the floor and pummeled him down until he didn’t move.

“Samuel, stop!”

Rage commanding his actions, Samuel didn’t hear Martina’s cry the first time. Then he looked down and realized how close he was to killing Giulio. Sitting on him, Samuel had beaten the man to a pulp. He looked at his hands covered in blood and shuddered, gave Giulio one last glance, then stood and turned to Martina.

Still seething with dark emotions, he freed her ankles with shaking hands, then untied the ropes binding her wrists to the bed, and she collapsed in his embrace. Unable to utter a word, Samuel cradled her to him, gently massaging her back as she sobbed.

A few minutes later, someone timidly knocked on the bedroom doorframe.

Samuel turned, ready to tear apart whoever menaced Martina, but was surprised by the sight of three werewolves looking at him with eyes as big as saucers.

The tallest of the lot stepped up, but stopped before reaching the bed. “Sir… Quintilius sent us. He said you had a package for us.”

As Samuel covered Martina with the bed sheets, he pointed his chin at Giulio lying on the floor. “Down there.”

“Thank you, sir.” The tall werewolf strolled to the side of the bed and reached for Giulio’s arms. Then helped by his two companions, he pulled him up and walked out of the room with a nod to Samuel.

Martina leaned and peeked out from Samuel’s side and asked, “Where are you taking him?”

“To his parents’ house where my employer is at the moment.” The werewolf followed the other two already outside.

Martina looked at Samuel. “Why?”

“I’ll explain later, but know that Giulio won’t ever bother you again.”

****

“Good. That’s good.” Martina wanted nothing more than escape that room, but she could barely walk and resting in Samuel’s arms felt safe.

Samuel leaned away from her. “Martina? Has he…?”

She looked at herself, naked, her skin marred by Giulio’s lashes, and felt her stomach heave.

Samuel swore, then brought her back to him. “I’ll kill him.”

She pushed at his chest so that she could look up at him. “No. He hasn’t raped me. He tried to, but I used the technique you taught me the second time we sparred together. Remember?”

He had asked her if she knew how to effectively get rid of an attacker. She had shown him her moves and he had corrected her stance and gave her a few tips on how to bring a man to the floor in ten seconds or less. “Before he tied me down, I kicked him hard between his legs.”

Samuel smiled at her, his strong arms circling her back. “That’s my girl.” He leaned down and nudged her nose with his.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

He softly kissed her lips. “Of course it wasn’t your fault. He’s a coward and—”

“And he’s also sterile. He’s the one who can’t conceive kids. Not me.” She still couldn’t believe what Giulio had confessed to her in the drugged stupor he had fallen into after drinking the whole contents from a vial filled with a viscose, red liquid. “That’s the reason why he was obsessed about us getting back together.”

“He’s going to be dealt with. Don’t worry.” Samuel pressed her against him.

She felt his heart bumping wildly through the layer of his clothes and was reminded of her nakedness, and burrowed closer to him, laying her head on his chest. A shiver ran through her as the recent memory of Giulio standing over her came back.

“If you don’t want to be mine, you won’t be anyone else’s. You could get pregnant, and nobody must know I can’t have kids. I’ll kill you before you bed another man. Do you understand? I’ll kill you.”

She had listened to his ranting, tied to the bed she had once chosen for their newlywed house. At first, she hadn’t understood what he was talking about. She was hurt and scared, and he kept pacing before the bed, hitting her with the belt any time he paused. “He would’ve killed me this time.” She shivered.

Samuel shushed her softly, showering her with small kisses all over her face. She let his warmth chase away her ghosts, then raised her chin. “I need a shower. Let’s go to your place. I can’t stay here a moment longer.”

He released her and left the bed, searching for her clothes.

“You’re covered in blood.” She raised the side of the sheet Samuel had covered her with and scooted to the edge of the bed, reaching for him.

Holding her pants and shirt to her, he sat by her side and let her clean his hands. “I promise you, I’ll make you forget about this night. I’ll fill your life with so much joy, you won’t think of him anymore.” He tilted his head so that she could wipe away a smear of blood that was already drying under his chin.