Angel Unbound Page 4

  Now it was done and still he struggled with the anger. Anger at Calli for allowing herself to be vulnerable. Anger at himself for not finding her sooner. It might be unreasonable, but he felt as though he should have known she was alive, should have felt it, somehow. He should have moved heaven and earth to find her. Because once she was gone, it left a hole in the very fabric of his soul he’d never been able to mend.

  Over the years, he’d buried his feelings deeply. He never realized how much until he watched Jacques Rapier’s dagger sink into the soft flesh of Callista’s chest. In the dank tunnel beneath his sister’s house, he thought he’d miraculously found her only to lose her again. Merda! What a time for an epiphany. He was having a freakin’ Oprah moment right here in the middle of the Corso. Oh yeah, he was angry. But it wasn’t Callista, or even his father, he was most angry with. Yet, she was the one who’d been bearing the brunt of it. And wasn’t that a bitch?

  “Do you know,” Calli began, tugging at his conscience with her tear choked voice. “From the minute you carried me out of that tunnel, not a single person…not you, not my brothers or my mother or anyone…bothered to ask me why I went out that night. At first, I thought it was because no one wanted to upset me. Then I realized it was because I’d simply fulfilled everyone’s expectations. Crazy Calli. Act first, think later. It never occurred to anyone for even a second that I might actually have had a valid reason for doing what I did.”

  She swallowed hard, turned, and started walking away.

  “Did you?”

  “Did I what?” She stopped, but didn’t turn around.

  “Did you have a good reason?”

  He saw her slim shoulders rise and fall as she took a deep breath. The seconds turned to minutes as he impatiently waited for an answer.

  “It’s rather a moot point, don’t you think?” she said at last with a deep sigh. “Whether I did or didn’t hardly matters now. It doesn’t change anything.”

  He moved in front of her so quickly she gasped. Her gaze whipped to his, but he carefully schooled his face into its usual placid lines to ensure Calli had no hint of the turmoil raging inside him.

  “You’re right,” he said, so softly he wasn’t sure she would hear him over the chaos of the crowds and traffic. “I was judging you, and I had no right. I’m sorry.”

  “I’d like to go home now,” Calli said, staring at her feet.

  “You know what? You really did great today, cara. Why don’t we—”

  “I said I’d like to go home now,” she interrupted firmly. “Everyone wanted me to get out of the house. I got out of the house. But right now, I’d really like to go home.”

  “Okay, cara, anything you want.”

  “Given my dubious distinction as a living anachronism, somehow, I doubt that, Luca,” Calli said quietly. Then she fell into step beside him without further comment.

  Luca judiciously reserved expounding on the variety of wonders displayed like an archaeological smorgasbord everywhere they looked. He’d hurt her, and that was something he’d never intended. He was a different man now than the one she remembered, and he wasn’t the kind of man she could want. Not anymore.

  Losing her once had damaged him. Losing her twice would destroy him. He wasn’t about to open himself up to be abandoned again. It wasn’t her fault the thought of Rapier laying one finger on her sweet little body twisted his gut into a knot the size of Texas and make him hunger to kill the Fallen all over again. This time with a little pre-death pain and torture thrown in. The bastard had died far too easily for all of the sins he owned.

  But this roiling angst was his problem. Not hers. Callista was the victim. Whatever she’d had to do, she hadn’t been a willing participant, and he needed to remember it and stop treating her as though she’d had a choice.

  They hadn’t gone far when they came upon the trattoria Luca had mentioned earlier. Set back from the busy street and fronted by a park-like courtyard surrounded with small tables protected from the afternoon sun by large green umbrellas, the enticing aromas of garlic and grilled meat emanated from the open doorway. Luca’s stomach grumbled loudly and involuntarily as the scent hit him.

  Callista slowed without looking up.

  “I gather you’re still hungry?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll grab something when we get back to the house.”

  Callista wanted nothing more than to get back to the villa and lock herself in her room with her thoughts and perhaps a few tears. But that was childish. And the fact she wasn’t a child was the very thing she was so eager to prove.

  Luca was the size of a small country and hadn’t eaten anything but a cornetto and a few bites of gelato since early this morning. She was sad, but she wasn’t selfish. He had to be starving.

  “Actually, I could use a rest anyway,” Calli lied. Luca stopped and studied her intently. She carefully maintained an expression as placid and unruffled as his.

  “Are you sure? Right about now I could cheerfully consume the Arch of Constantine, but I can wait if you’ve had enough for the day.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t have the best sense of direction, but it’s still a pretty long walk, isn’t it? I guess I don’t have as much stamina yet as I thought and these boots are starting to hurt. I wouldn’t mind sitting down for a while.”

  “Well, I could use a bite to hold me over ’til dinner, if you’re sure? When I’m done, we’ll find a more isolated spot and fade back so you won’t have to walk so far,” he offered, quirking a brow.

  Calli opened her mouth and then snapped it closed. She shrugged and followed him in. Luca pulled out a chair for her at an empty table near the entrance and dropped into the one next to it. As usual, he chose the seat giving him the best view of everyone and everything coming and going. Her brothers did the same whenever they were out.

  The owner himself came out to greet them, and Callista realized Luca was well known at this establishment. The man spoke perfect English, and Calli followed the conversation without difficulty. More than that, as an Earthbound, she was privy to his thoughts. Luca rarely came here alone. Judging by the man’s quick appraisal and quicker dismissal, he obviously didn’t consider her up to Luca’s customary standards.

  “Your usual, signore?”

  “Uh, no, Luigi,” Luca replied quickly with a furtive glance at Callista. “Actually, we’ll just have something light.” Luca then proceeded to order water, wine, three kinds of bruschetta, Spaghetti alla Carbonara, and Veal Saltimbocca. “Cara, are you sure you don’t want something to eat?”

  “I’m glad you only wanted a little something, otherwise I’d need a cart to get you home,” she couldn’t help but smile though she still smarted from their earlier exchange. “Just some water with a slice of lemon is fine.”

  “Oh, and Luigi? We’re in a bit of a rush,” Luca added as the man nodded politely and plunked a wicker basket filled with warm bread in the middle of the table.

  “You don’t have to rush through your meal on my account.”

  “In Italy, a meal is an event. Something to be experienced, savored, and never rushed,” Luca laughed. “If I didn’t tell him that, we’d be here until tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” Callista offered a small smile in return. He was so familiar when he laughed. She wished he would forget to wear his façade of impassivity a bit more often. She missed the man behind the mask. The memory of that man had gotten her through some of the darkest hours she’d ever known.

  Luigi must have taken the warning seriously. Callista had barely taken a sip of her water when a large platter of bruschetta arrived. After offering her a piece, Luca consumed the thick slices of grilled bread topped with olive paste and tomatoes in a few bites and washed them down with generous mouthfuls of deep red wine. The pasta and veal were consumed equally quickly, and after asking her for the tenth time if she was hungry, he finally tossed a handful of bills on the table and pushed back his chair.

  Calli did the same before he reached her side. “Feel better?�
� she smiled up at him.

  “Much,” he took her hand and pulled her toward the door and into the restaurant.

  “Wait! Where are we going?”

  “Out the back way. I told you we’d fade home. You’ve been a surprisingly good sport today, cara, but you have to be exhausted.”

  The restaurant wasn’t crowded and few paid them any mind as they wove their way amongst the tables and through the controlled chaos in the kitchen at the back. Luca paused to frown at a young waiter whose gaze lingered a bit too long on Callista’s chest before tugging her through another door and into a dark and narrow alley. It appeared quiet and empty, but they hadn’t gone more than a few feet before Calli felt Luca stiffen beside her.

  Two men stood at the entrance to the street and began to move slowly and deliberately in their direction. Luca shoved the bag of artichokes and the limoncello bottle into Calli’s arms and pushed her into the space between two foul smelling and overflowing dumpsters before taking up a wide stance in front of her and unsnapping the sleeves of his jacket. He drew a dagger from each of the intricate tattoos he wore on his forearms and simply waited.

  Calli could tell by the men’s awkward ataxic gait that they were animorti and not Fallen. Animorti were little more than animated corpses recruited by the Fallen from the dredges of humanity, lowlifes easily persuaded by the promise of power. They were dangerous, but they were puppets nearly incapable of independent thought and much easier to kill than their Fallen masters.

  “Get out of here, Calli,” Luca ground out through tight lips. “Fade. Now. Go home. I’ll be right behind you as soon as I take care of these two.”

  “But, I can’t…” Calli began.

  “Now!” Luca hissed before stepping forward to meet the approaching threat.

  Calli clutched the neck of the liqueur bottle, barely noticing when her flowers and the artichokes fell to the ground. She huddled deeper into the space between the dumpsters so when Luca glanced briefly over his shoulder he couldn’t see her. She didn’t want worrying about her to distract him.

  Precisely as she hoped, Luca must have assumed she’d finally learned to follow orders and he turned back to the animorti wearing a cold anticipatory smile. With Mac away and the evil ones generally avoiding Rome since it was Michael’s unofficial headquarters, Luca hadn’t been out hunting lately. He looked as though he was nearly itching for the fight.

  Even two against one, she knew Luca had the advantage. As always, the animorti carried human weapons. They could hurt him, but they couldn’t kill him. Only weapons forged in either Heaven or Hell could mortally wound an Earthbound or a Fallen and the dark ones weren’t about to take a chance that their evil spawn could actually inflict damage should they decide to turn against their masters when they discovered how completely they’d been betrayed.

  Calli peeked cautiously from her hiding place, still gripping the neck of the bottle, and watched in fascination as Luca lunged and dodged with a dagger in each hand. He appeared to be amusing himself with the creatures more than anything, and she couldn’t help but admire the way his taut muscles flexed as he parried and thrust. She could have been quite content to hunker down and spend the rest of the afternoon appreciating his grace and strength while watching him enjoy himself if another creature hadn’t used Luca’s distraction with the animorti to sneak up behind him with his sword already drawn.

  There was no time to call out a warning. Calli didn’t hesitate. She didn’t think. She simply acted.

  She sprang from her hiding place brandishing the long necked limoncello bottle like a baseball bat as she’d seen Luca’s beloved Yankees do and swung it with everything she had. The heavy glass connected with the side of the Fallen’s head with a mighty crack and the dark one went down with a thud.

  Home run, McAllister. Pieces of glass and the sweet, sticky liqueur splattered everything, infusing the alley with a pleasant lemon aroma that did little to mask the sulfur smell of the oily puddle that had been an animorti mere seconds before Luca’s dagger found its mark.

  Luca dispatched the other animorti with a casual flick of his wrist and spun, just in time to see Calli raise the Fallen’s sword over her head with both hands and plunge it into the dark one’s chest with so much force it nearly embedded in the cobblestones beneath him.

  He faded to her in an instant and grasped her slight shoulders so hard she suspected she would be sporting bruises later. Calli made a move to step away only to find herself held fast. Trembling violently, she couldn’t decide whether it was due to the close call, the realization she had just run a sword through a Fallen’s heart, or the look on Luca’s face. His cool indifference had fled completely and the fear and anger on his face was so impressive, he looked like a total stranger. She touched her tongue to lips suddenly gone dry, and Luca’s control snapped completely.

  “Do you have a death wish?” He emphasized each word with a shake. He shook her so hard her braid came undone and her hair fell about her face like a silken curtain. “I told you to go home.”

  Calli raised wide, angry eyes to his. It obviously hadn’t dawned on him that she’d just saved his sorry ass. “You’re welcome!” she shouted, wrenching free of his grasp. She stomped back to the dumpster and carefully gathered her flowers from the ground, leaving the artichokes where they’d fallen.

  Merda! Luca didn’t know whether to kick her ass or kiss her. The little minx thought she’d saved him, did she? He’d been perfectly aware the Fallen stalked him and he had the situation well in hand. He wasn’t some rank amateur. Of course, she had no way of knowing that and had come out swinging with no thought for herself or her own safety. As usual. When he turned around and saw her standing over the Fallen clutching that sword, a fear unlike anything he’d ever felt gripped his heart so tightly he still found it almost painful to breathe. There was no way he could go back and tell Madge McAllister he’d allowed Calli to be taken again, or worse. That must be what had him so shaken. Yeah, that was it.

  Calli stood a short distance away, mutinously clutching her bedraggled bouquet as Luca briskly rubbed his palms together and powered up his energy. He made quick work of vaporizing the telltale remains of the evil ones and slowly made his way to where Calli waited silently.

  “All right,” he sighed wearily. “Let’s go. Straight home.”

  “But, Luca I…”

  “Now, Calli.” And he disappeared.

  Luca materialized in the garden of the Via Dandolo house and waited impatiently for Calli to join him. He’d thought of several more points he wanted to drill into her thick skull, but she was taking her good natured time about following.

  Several minutes passed before it dawned on him she wasn’t coming. Punctuating the air with a string of curses in three different languages, he faded back to the alley primed for battle.

  She wasn’t there. Luca stood in the middle of the alley and looked around him in worried disbelief. She hadn’t come home and she wasn’t in the alley. He felt sure she really must have a death wish. She was trying to provoke him into throttling her.

  His keen eye detected a hint of blue near the mouth of the alley and he recognized the petals of Calli’s flowers. He came out of the alley and looked carefully around the piazza, but caught no glimpse of her long, dark hair or slight form. His stomach churned and his heart beat in a painfully rapid tattoo.

  Where in the hell could she be? Luca forked an unsteady hand through his hair in frustration, ignoring the fact that the action left his perpetually perfect locks tangled in disarray for maybe the first time ever. She couldn’t have gotten far on foot unless she’d decided to fade to someplace else, altogether.

  He really was going to kill her! In desperation, he sent out a call, hoping she was within range. Now what?

  Chapter Four

  Alone in the gloomy alley, Callista sank to the ground as her legs gave out once her righteous indignation faded and the realization of what she’d done sank in. Maybe her actions had confirmed Luca’s opinion
of her as reckless and impulsive, but she wasn’t about to lose him, even if he never offered her anything more than disdain and vague familial fondness. She climbed to her feet and made her way to the entrance of the alley. She had no idea where she was, but felt sure if she could make her way to the river, she could follow its course down to the Trestevere neighborhood and maybe ask directions to Via Dandolo. Since her only weapon now was a wilting fistful of blue flowers, she hoped she’d already seen her share of trouble for the day.

  Calli kept walking until she came to an open piazza with roads veering off to the left and right. Navigating on instinct alone, she chose the right fork and walked a little further until, to her relief, she caught a glimpse of the Tiber flowing placidly between the high walls on either bank. Directly across the bridge stood the imposing Castel Sant’Angelo, the Castle of Angels, originally designed as a mausoleum by the emperor Hadrian, and these days serving as a museum for the masses. That it also served as the headquarters for the commander of the Defensori was something the streams of tourists wandering its ramparts day after day were blissfully unaware of. Calli had never actually seen the commanding edifice in person, but she’d heard enough about it that she would recognize it anywhere.

  She swallowed her panic for at least the third time and started across the bridge, pausing briefly to admire the angelic statuary marching along the rails.

  She reminded herself she’d survived over a century with a serial killer and had come out relatively unscathed. She could find her way home. She could do this. She wondered what the chances were that any of the mortals at the entrance of the Castel would know Michael’s whereabouts.

  Her brother and Luca had served under the Archangel for hundreds of years. Surely, he would see she got home safely. But she also realized she couldn’t very well walk up to the gate and ask. Suddenly it occurred to her that if Michael was in residence, there might be other Earthbound nearby. She sent out her thoughts on the common pathway, held her breath, and hoped for the best.