The Lonely Wolf (21 page)

The courtroom split in two. Lupo’s side let out a collective sigh of relief. The Purists’ side froze, their postures betraying their anger. Nobody said anything.

Amidst a silence filled with tension, the judge resumed talking. “Given how sensitive the third accusation is, we reserve the right to pronounce a verdict after Mr. Solis is seen by an aura reader.” He gave the chancellor a silent command.

After nodding, the man talked to a two-way radio, then addressed Lupo, “Mr. Solis, please follow me.”

Martina touched Lupo’s arm. “Just relax and let the reader do his work.”

The chancellor opened his arm to the side for Lupo to walk to the back of the court. The judge left the stand and walked with them outside, through the hallway, and into a room adjacent to the court.

The place smelled of dust and its low ceiling contributed to a sense of claustrophobia that hit Lupo as soon as he stepped a foot inside. Two chairs, one plain, the other with leather straps and a footrest comprised the entire amount of furniture in the room. The walls closed in on Lupo, and his chest constricted, making him gasp for air.

“Sit.” The chancellor took him by the elbow and guided him to the chair with the bindings. “It will take but a moment.”

The judge sat on the plain chair as Lupo was strapped to the other. “Boy, we are doing this for your sake, so please relax.”

Lupo’s heartbeat sped up, and by the time a tall man with long blond hair entered the room, he was hyperventilating.

“Hi, Lupo. My name is Caelum and I’m here to help you. I’ll try to make the reading as non-invasive as possible, but I’ll have to enter your mind,” the man said.

Lupo nodded, but he wanted to scream, loathing having his memories of Jasmine seen by the warlock. Yet, he could stomach even less to have something as holy as their mating perceived as rape.

“The warlock has graciously accepted to drive here in the middle of the night,” the chancellor said, walking to the wall where he stood out of the way.

“Let’s begin.” The judge nodded at the warlock who walked around and squatted before Lupo.

“We don’t need to tie him down for what I’m about to do.” The blond man unfastened Lupo’s wrists with a few swift movements of his elegant hands.

“Are you sure about this?” the chancellor asked from the wall.

“Yes, I am.” Caelum massaged Lupo’s wrists, sending a wave of pleasant warmth up to his shoulders, then he stood, and walked behind Lupo. “I’ll start by positioning my hands on your temples.”

Lupo experienced a jolt of awareness at the warlock’s touch. The warmth he had felt before was followed by tingling.

“Open your mind to me, and let me in.” The warlock’s voice soothed Lupo’s excited nerves.

“Thank you, Lupo.” Caelum’s fingers circled Lupo’s temples.

A pleasant scent filled the room, and Lupo closed his eyes as Jasmine’s appeared before him. Her hand reached for his, and he took it, savoring the softness of her skin.

Images exploded in his mind. All the kisses and caresses he and Jasmine had shared displayed at once. The tenderness of their private moments created a beautiful canvas where their love became art.

Then the scent surrounding Lupo changed, sweetening until the fragrance was entirely redolent of jasmine. Anticipation built inside him, growing like a seed of hope that burst into curlicues when he sensed Jasmine’s presence.

I’m here, wolf.

Where?

With you, always.

I can’t find you, and I miss you.

I love you.

I love you more.

Her presence and her scent disappeared at once, leaving Lupo alone and bereft, gasping for air.
Please, come back.
The connection was lost, and he opened his eyes.

“It’s done.” The warlock patted Lupo’s shoulders.

“What did you see?” the judge asked, shifting in his chair as if uncomfortable.

“Lupo’s love for his mate is pure.” Caelum squeezed Lupo’s arm, then stepped to his side. “He never hurt Jasmine. His aura is green.” He extended his hand, palm up, to the judge.

Standing with a loud sigh, the judge placed his palm over the warlock’s and closed his eyes, his brows furrowing at first, then relaxing. A long moment passed, then as if waking from a deep slumber, he blinked a few times. He stared at Lupo with an intent gaze. “Good. I would’ve hated to be wrong about your character, boy.” He made a gesture for Lupo to stand as well. “It’s almost morning, let’s send everyone home.”

The chancellor opened the door for them, and they marched back into the courtroom where the warlock joined them for the last section of the hearing.

The room was silent, the tension palpable as Lupo walked to the table and sat beside Martina. Every set of eyes trained on the judge, who took his rightful place behind the bench, and, after the chancellor executed the formalities of the rite, he announced, “After reviewing Caelum’s aura reading, we also find Mr. Solis not culpable of sexually assaulting Ms. Cannalis Conte.”

The statement changed the mood of everyone present, included the Purists’. Jasmine’s mother started weeping, while her father cried long tears that escaped his lashes and wet his face. Despite the incommensurable anguish, Lupo sensed how Jasmine’s family was relieved by the news, and he was glad he had been able to give them at least that small amount of solace. For that, he mentally thanked the judge for ordering a reading.

“However, Mr. Solis is held accountable for stealing a car and obstructing mortal justice, which resulted in the accident that led to Ms. Cannalis Conte’s death. The penalty is stipulated as follows, one year in Regina Coeli without parole, starting tonight. We hereby declare the session closed. May the Goddess and the Great Wolf guide you as you travel the path of life.” The judge raised the gavel and let it fall on the sounding block, then left the room as everyone stood per the chancellor’s instruction.

The Purists too vacated the room alongside their lawyers, their faces impassive.

“We’ll appeal—” Martina started to say.

Lupo shook his head. “I don’t want you to do anything.”

“But Lupo, I can make you spend your sentence somewhere else at least. It doesn’t have to be Regina Coeli.”

“I deserve it. It’s my fault Jasmine’s dead. I could’ve waited and found a different solution, but I didn’t think about consequences, and she paid for my impulsiveness. I need to atone for my sins. One year in Regina Coeli isn’t enough.” Lupo took her hand between his. “Thank you for everything, but please leave things as they are.”

“But you know that it doesn’t end here. You’ll also be prosecuted in the vampire’s attempted murder case.” Martina sounded genuinely worried, and Lupo’s heart warmed at the idea that a complete stranger could care about his fate.

“And I thank you in advance for any help you can provide, but the vampire is only alive thanks to the archangel’s interference. I’m not innocent.”

“You aren’t a bad person either,” Martina said, eyes rimmed with bloody tears.

Lupo shrugged, and gave her a small smile. “That doesn’t make me good.”

From the row behind, Quintilius leaned forward to hug Lupo. “My son—”

Of all the moments that it could have happened, the word “father” popped up in Lupo’s mind, but it didn’t make it out of his mouth. Still, he lingered in the alpha’s embrace, grateful for the comfort it provided amidst much sorrow and despair. As if sensing his need, Quintilius’s strong arms tightened around Lupo’s shoulders.

Two immortal guards appeared, interrupting their private moment.

“We must leave now,” the shorter of the two guards said, showing a pair of handcuffs dangling from his hand.

“Give us a moment.” Quintilius walked around and positioned himself between Lupo and the two men.

“We apologize, but we have orders to take the prisoner to Regina Coeli before dawn,” the second guard responded, as the first grabbed Lupo’s wrists and bound them.

The rest of the group came together around Lupo.

Drako and Ravenna Del Sarto hugged him. “We’ll visit you,” she said, and her companion nodded.

The demon made the same promise, while Raphael said, “Hang in there. You’re stronger than you think you are. See you soon.”

The guards parted the crowd, dragging Lupo in tow.

Walking alongside, Martina gave him a few legal instructions that ended with, “Stay out of trouble and be careful to befriend the right inmates,” she choked out between tears.

Overwhelmed by such a response, Lupo’s eyes filled with tears as well. Not because he was sorry to go to prison, but because he had to go to prison to find that there were good people in this world.

Ludwig Barnes approached him, holding the guards at bay with a raised finger. “I’ll personally see that you are safe in there. Nobody will dare touch you.”

Blindly nodding, Lupo felt Quintilius’s touch on his back, as if to support him the last few steps out of the courtroom.

“I’ll visit every day, I won’t leave you alone. You’ll come out of this stronger,” Quintilius said, his voice hoarse.

Lupo couldn’t help but feel the need to reassure him. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

At the large, wooden door, the warlock, who had followed the procession, stepped forward and placed his right hand over Lupo’s chest, then mirrored the gesture with his left hand on his heart. A flash of warm light cocooned Lupo like a blanket.

“You have my protection.” Caelum’s voice resonated all around Lupo, and he couldn’t say if he had heard the words or imagined them.

Then his sight cleared and he found himself staring into the magnetic violet eyes of the warlock, who leaned closer to him and whispered to his ear, “She loves you.”

With his heart nudged in his throat and his eyes burning, Quintilius watched as the two immortals took his son away from him.

“We’ll make sure he’s okay.” Ludwig brushed his arm.

Quintilius passed a hand over his face, the growing beard on his jaw tickling his fingers. “Let’s go to the hospital. I haven’t checked on Camelia since this morning, and by now the lab should’ve analyzed the content of the glass bottle I sent.”

He had lost count of the times they had flown back and forth over Rome during the last five days, and he couldn’t remember when he had slept last. His clothes looked as sorry as he felt, and he needed to change into something fresh, but it would have to wait. Showering, eating, sleeping, living, all had to wait. Too many loose strings to take care of. Like discovering why an empty, unlabeled bottle was amidst the rubbles of Iris’s cottage. A bottle that was the exact replica of the one he had seen in Camelia’s hands so long ago. A bottle that reeked with the same poisonous smell of curare.

He didn’t need the lab technician to tell him what he had found, that was for the enforcers. His wolf’s nose was never wrong.

After saying their goodbyes to their friends, he and Ludwig left the courthouse.

Ludwig swept him in his arms and cradled him, then tenderly kissed him as he left the ground and rose higher in the sky. In his angel’s embrace he experienced peace, if only for a moment.

A few minutes later, Quintilius entered the Tiberina Island Hospital with Ludwig in tow. Upon entering the traumatology ward, one of the nurses, a werewolf, stopped him.

“Alpha, Doctor Lanzi is visiting Camelia. He is a renowned traumatologist and works with the paranormal special ops and the enforcers—”

Quintilius nodded. “I know him.”

Doctor Lanzi was an immortal who liked to give back to the community and had participated in several of Quintilius’s charities. He also volunteered at the Renegade Youth Shelter where he visited the kids every other Sunday.

“Then you know she’s in the best hands.” The nurse gave him a smile. “Camelia’s awake, and the doctor asked for you—” At Quintilius’s raised brow, she gave him an apologetic shrug, and before he could say anything, she added, “We tried to call you.”

“Thank you.” Quintilius tapped the desk, then reached for his cell phone that had been turned off throughout the whole day.

As he walked toward Camelia’s room, he checked the messages on his voicemail, but only found two, the one from the hospital, and another from Iris’s cell phone. Wary, he stopped by a recess in the hall, clicked on the voice message, and said to Ludwig, “Listen to it.”

“
Quintilius, help me! I’ve been kidnapped. They are working togeth—
” Her screams and a loud crash ended the recording abruptly.

“What do you make of this?” he asked Ludwig.

“She isn’t faking the screaming,” Ludwig answered.

“What a nightmare.”

“I’m afraid there’s more—” Ludwig paused a moment too long for Quintilius’s liking.

“What?”

“I was going to wait and tell you later, but it might be better if you have all the information now. I talked to my informant, and he says someone from your clan is involved.”

“Who?”

“He didn’t say the name, but he showed me a check with your signature.”

“I sign checks every day. Usually, Iris compiles them and I just sign.”

“This one was made to a dry-cleaning place called Shifter Washer.”

“I can’t remember all the companies I make checks to—”

“You paid them half a million euros.”

“I would remember that.” Quintilius cursed out loud, and a few people walking by turned their heads his way. He raised a hand in apology. “Can I see the image?”

“Yes, of course.” Ludwig reached for his phone in his jeans’ rear pocket, then turned it on and scrolled for the pictures tile. “Here it is.”

The image spoke more than a thousand words. “That’s my check, and that’s my signature.” Anger sprouted in his chest, pressing against his heart, lungs, and stomach like an inflated balloon.

Ludwig turned off his phone. “How many people have access to your bank account?”

“You know I don’t trust anyone with that kind of information. Only Camelia and Iris.”

“I thought so.”

“Have you investigated this Shifter Washer place?”

“My informant had already looked into it, and found out that the dry-cleaner building belongs to a vampire nest in Fiumicino, and that made me curious—”

“Don’t tell me it’s the same nest we rescued Raphael from.” The balloon of anger inside Quintilius inflated, until it pressed so hard against his ribcage he could barely breathe.

“The one and only. But I also had the dry-cleaning company’s title checked, and I made a few phone calls around to obtain the names of the silent partners. I’m still waiting on that, but it turns out that Shifter Washer is registered as an industrial facility that works for shipping companies, but since two thousand and thirteen—the year they were established—not a single load has ever been washed there. It’s safe to assume the only thing they clean is money,” Ludwig concluded. “I know it looks like a convoluted spider web, but we’ll find the truth. I promise you.”

Unable to utter anything that wasn’t a crude swearword, Quintilius nodded. Then he resumed walking and reached Camelia’s room in a state of cold jitteriness. His emotions were mixed up, and he felt the call to violence building up alongside his anger. Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t wait to see Camelia and reassure himself she was finally out of danger. Finally, he dreaded the moment he had to tell her what he had discovered.

Ludwig touched his shoulder in a brief caress.

“Thank you.” Quintilius breathed in and out for a few counts, then peeked at the window on the door and saw the doctor was still visiting Camelia.

Some fifteen minutes later, the traumatologist came out.

“Lanzi,” Quintilius offered his hand to the tall immortal. “The nurse told me you were looking for me.”

The man greeted him with a serious expression on his face. “Quintilius, I was about to call you again—” His eyes went to Ludwig, who made to move to give them privacy.

Quintilius stopped him and said to Lanzi, “He’s family.”

The doctor nodded. “The ICU sent me the results from the blood tests we ran on Camelia. The lab also sent me the results from the toxicology test on the specimen you asked to be analyzed. Traces of curare, and a few other substances, like belladonna, mandrake, and opiates, were found in both Camelia’s blood and in that bottle’s content—”

“On both?” Quintilius asked, but he had known all along when he had found the bottle.

“The exact same formula.” The doctor hugged himself, rocking himself slightly on his heels.

“Like the Immortal Death?” Ludwig asked. He had investigated a string of suicides among young immortals a few years back. All the deaths had been caused by Immortal Death’s ingestion. The poison caused temporary mortality, and the kids had used it to take their lives.

“Similar, but not quite the same cocktail. It’s a specific formula for werewolves. Whoever prepared the mix knew what to add and in what percentage to disable a wolf and hurt the host. Someone has been poisoning her for years.” Lanzi sighed. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of such horrific news, but on a happier note, Camelia’s is doing much better, and I expect her to steadily improve now that her wolf is recovering as well.” His eyes went to the glass window on the door. “In a way, being attacked saved her life. The tests we ran on her aren’t generally done during a physical, and here she was purged from the poison, which explains why her condition changed after a few days, even though we didn’t do anything to explain her sudden recovery. She’ll be here for a while though. The damage done by the attack is extensive, but her past experience as an aura healer will help speed up the process.” Squeezing Quintilius’s shoulder, he made to leave, then added, “I wouldn’t recommend upsetting her, but she’s looking for answers, so use your judgment on what to reveal to her.”

Quintilius waited for Doctor Lanzi to leave before turning to Ludwig. “I must tell her.”

“I agree. It’s better to rip off the Band Aid now.” The angel looked him in the eyes and gave him a smile. “Go.” Then he lowered the handle and gently pushed him in.

The door closed behind him, and Quintilius was greeted by the sight of a battered Camelia.

Already lithe, she was now diaphanous, but her smart eyes locked with his, and her lips turned up in a smile. “Alpha.” Her voice was nothing more than a hideous croak, yet it had never sounded so pleasing to Quintilius’s ears.

“Camelia, my love,” he whispered, walking to the bed, where he sat on the edge and took her hands in his. After showering them with kisses, he finally said, “Never do this to me again.”

She laughed then. “I promise, this is the last time I let a vampire maim me.” She brought his hand to her face, and as it was her custom, she leaned into it for a caress. “It wasn’t all that fun in any case.”

“I went crazy—”

“It’s already in the past. I’m on the mend now.” She released her hold on his hand and lowered herself to the pillow.

“There’re things I must tell you.”

“The doctor told me about the poison.”

“Yes, that. But first… Iris has been missing and there were signs of struggle at her cottage—”

Camelia’s eyes widened. “Where’s she now? Is she okay?”

“Despite what I’m going to say next, I think she’s okay.” He paused to gather his thoughts and find a way to tell Camelia the truth without upsetting her. “When I went to check her cottage, it looked as if a hurricane had gone through the house. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture left whole. Then, among all that destruction, a scent I had all but forgotten caught my attention, and following my nose I found a bottle.”

“What bottle?” With evident struggle, Camelia straightened against the headboard.

“I recognized the smell right away, Camelia. It was the same acrid stench from the bottle you used—” No matter how much time had passed, talking about that night would always be painful, even more so now. “I should’ve seen Iris for what she was, but I was too blind, too arrogant, to even consider one of mine would betray me or you.”

“Maybe there’s an explanation,” Camelia said, sagging again. “There must be one.” Her tired expression revealed resignation, not hope.

“I’m sorry, my love.” Only now was he putting the pieces of the puzzle together, and the resulting image was scary.

“I always feel sick and tired after eating.” She regarded him with sad, pleading eyes, as if she wanted him to deny the truth. “But Lara is such a good cook and she says I need more sustenance—” With a gasp, she shook her head, then whispered, “Iris hired her…”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

After a prolonged silence, she asked, “What else did you find?”

“Did you know she has been employing bodyguards for a while?”

Camelia shook her head. “What for?”

“I don’t know yet, but she sent away Lupo a month ago, and after briefly talking with Raphael in the evening, I realized she had a big role in sending him away too.” The conversation with Raphael had been painful. Outside the courthouse, while they were waiting to be called in for Lupo’s hearing, he had asked the young werewolf if they could talk. What he learned from the chat was a confirmation of Iris’s duplicity, and how she had manipulated people around Quintilius without him being the wiser.

“I don’t understand. Why did she get rid of those kids?” Camelia shifted position, her movements slow as she grimaced.

Even though he was eager to help, Quintilius didn’t dare touch Camelia for fear of hurting her. “Again, I don’t know—”

“I remember now that girl—Lupo’s mother. Once, Iris told me about this maid she had to fire because she was stealing. Later, someone from the staff commented to me that she didn’t think the girl had been stealing and that it was unfortunate she had lost her job, because she was pregnant. I didn’t connect that girl to the one you talked about until now.”

“So, she ordered a batch of poison for you, and stored some in her house—enough to last one hundred and fifty years. She got rid of Lupo’s mother, and then of Lupo. She made Raphael’s life a living hell when he was working for me,” he said.

“I’ve always known she was in love with you, and I excused her when she was being spiteful, because I thought she was alone, but what you’re saying is too much to believe.” Camelia blinked away a few tears. “My sister. We’ve never been close, but she’s blood of my blood. We shared a womb, we grew up together, we did everything together, even moving to Rome when the elders arranged our marriage.”

“I know, and it doesn’t end here. I’ve just discovered that she forged my signature on a substantial check made to a dry-cleaner company that’s anything but a dry-cleaner.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ludwig showed me the picture of a check, from one of my accounts, signed by me, for half a million euros. And since I know it wasn’t you, there’s only one explanation left.”

Camelia brought her small hands to her face and hid her eyes behind them. “I’m so sorry, Quintilius. I can’t believe she would do something like that.”

He shook his head, then leaned over her to move her hands aside and brushed her nose with a small kiss. “Me neither, but compared to what she has done to you, it’s just money.”

“My strength is coming back already.” Camelia raised her eyes to him. “Who knew a few days of hospital food would do that to me.” She tentatively smiled.

Her comment made him cringe, and he made a mental note to check how many of the people working in the kitchen at
Casolare del Lupo
were in Iris’s pocket, besides their cook. “If nothing else, I’ll be forever grateful to whomever ransacked Iris’s cottage, because it made me discover that bottle.”

“Our notion of silver linings is screwed up.” She laughed one of her small laughs that were so full of mirth, and Quintilius couldn’t help but chuckle back.

****

Anticipating that Quintilius’s chat with Camelia would be a lengthy one, Ludwig walked out to the hospital’s courtyard, found a quiet spot with an empty marble bench by a pine tree, and set to answer a few of the hundreds of unread emails that had filled his mailbox.