Monica La Porta

Raphael

Book One of The Immortal Youth

Copyrights and More Information

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Monica La Porta

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

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Dedication

To Roberto.

Prologue

Rome, 2011

Raphael zigzagged in and out of the back alley, trying to lose the enforcer. The sucker had been on Raphael’s tail for a while, and so far, he had managed to escape the long hand of the law. Running at full speed, he glanced right and left, looking for a secluded spot he could hide and take a breather. A soft glow illuminated the ancient cobblestones paving the street, and dew covered the ground, which made his frantic jog a loud affair, where stealth was required. His trainer soles squeaked and squealed every time he changed direction.

The annoying noise reminded him of that one time he played basketball with some mortal kids. Lanky, as only tall genes and neglect can assure, Raphael proved to be a natural. At the recent memory, a smile tugged at his lips. Booted steps echoed from the right, and he dove left under a marble arch.

As an architecture enthusiast, he liked the Ghetto neighborhood, but it wasn’t built for midnight cops and robbers games. Too many dead ends, like the brick wall covered in ivy he found himself facing after his last turn. His wolf growled with displeasure.

“I don’t like it either.” He steadied himself against what remained of a Roman column turned pedestal. The fat, black and white cat resting on top of the ruin raised a paw and licked it, as if taunting Raphael’s wolf, who growled louder. “Would you behave?” For once, he wished it was a full moon, so he could turn and run away using his wolf’s speed.

The enforcer’s steps sounded closer. Raphael straightened himself and considered his options. With a loud yawn, the cat stretched, jumped down from the column, then with a second jump reached for the wall of the Renaissance building to Raphael’s right. Apparently without effort, the chubby creature hopped from brick to brick, until he cleared one of the balconies on the second story.

“Stop where you are.” The bulky immortal, with the worst case of unibrow Raphael had ever seen, pointed a tranquilizer gun at him.

This wasn’t the first time he had found himself in this particular position, and thus Raphael knew the gun wasn’t loaded with bullets, silver or metal, although at first glance it looked like a regular and very lethal Beretta. He was a thief, and a good one at that. Unfortunately, earlier that day, he had stolen the wrong item from the wrong vampire, and now he was in possession of vampire blood.

He had never dealt in V, but wouldn’t waste time trying to explain his work ethic to the enforcer, once the man got ahold of him and discovered the vial he was carrying.

“Raphael Letta, you are under arrest for stealing an engagement ring,” the enforcer proclaimed.

“That’s what the bloodsucker said?” What a load of bull. Engagement ring my butt. A shiny diamond he could have sold for a month worth of food. But no. Inside the pouch Raphael had removed from the vampire’s breast pocket there was no ring, but V. Probably his. The perv.

The magnitude of horse manure Raphael had dug himself in was Controller worthy.

As in, the Controller would be called soon after the enforcer caught him. Raphael knew the procedure. The demon had been tracking him since the night he found him squatting in the barge under Milvio Bridge. Three years ago, but as clear as yesterday in Raphael’s memories.

“You’ll be happy at the Renegade Youth Shelter,” the demon had said.

Liar. Raphael still bore the sign of the lashes from Mr. B’s belt.

Now, he was against a wall, with an enforcer trying to put him to sleep, so that the Controller could take him back to be abused by Mr. B, or whoever they had put in the bastard’s stead. No, thank you very much.

Raphael turned, extended his arms over his head, hooked his fingers over a protruding tuff block and hoisted himself up, anchoring the point of his boots on a recess between the line of bricks and the ornamental cornice. Before the enforcer could grab him by his ankles, he jumped sideways to the adjacent wall. Then he pushed himself one story up, over the low wall of a balcony, and rolled onto the tiled floor. The French doors to his right looked easy to break open. Sure, it would add to his list of crimes, but hey, not like he was swimming in choices at the moment.

The enforcer would be on him in a heartbeat.

Raphael sighed. Breaking and entering. He was still a minor.

“Come down. Don’t me make climb up there.” The enforcer sounded pissed.

B & E it was. Raphael didn’t have to sweat to open the French doors, he lowered the handle—he had learned the hard way to always try the obvious first—and like magik, it opened. “Thank you,” he directed his prayer to the Great Wolf above. Easy didn’t come his way often. Usually, his was a hard life with a side of bad news.

“Don’t you dare!” The enforcer’s barked command reached Raphael when he was already halfway through a hallway filled with paintings.

A low noise coming from the end of the hallway startled him. He blinked and strained his senses to locate the source of the sound. His nose twitched when he caught a whiff of something sweet and very enticing. His heart beat faster and his wolf paced back and forth in his head. Without thinking, he followed his nose and found himself at the end of the hallway. Before him, a minute girl—a werewolf like him—with vivid green eyes stared up at him with great curiosity.

Raphael’s wolf stopped pacing and he froze as well.

“Who are you?” she asked in a melodic whisper.

Raphael couldn’t answer. He was transfixed by this vision with the soft voice. From her scent, he knew—without knowing how—that she was special to him and to his wolf.

“What are you doing here?” She tilted her head and a cascade of long, dark tresses embraced her shoulder. “Are you here to steal?”

Raphael shook his head, as his wolf whined for him to nuzzle her throat.

“Then what are you doing here?” She didn’t sound frightened.

Fighting to keep his wolf at bay, Raphael found his voice at last. “I’m running from an enforcer.”

“Why?” Her eyes widened, mesmerizing him.

“Why aren’t you scared of me?” He stepped closer until they were almost touching, forcing her to raise her chin higher to look up at him, but even then, she didn’t flinch.

She shrugged, a hint of amusement passing through her face. “Should I be?”

She mocked him, but he felt he had to answer with the truth. “No, of course not. I’d never hurt a girl.” His wolf growled. “I’d never hurt you.”

A knock on the outside door interrupted their conversation.

“Police. Open the door.”

Raphael was tired and didn’t want to put the girl in danger. She smelled like wolf, but nothing else in that house did. In fact, the two adults soundly sleeping in the bedroom two doors to the left were very much mortal.

Perhaps, she was there to steal and he had ruined her plans. Great job, Raphael. He resigned himself to a long night at the enforcer station, followed by a private ride with the Controller. How lucky was he? Great Wolf, he hated his life so, so much. He stepped to the side with the intention of opening the door to the officer. “Stay in the shadow.” At least he could play hero for one night.

The girl smiled at him and brought a finger to her lips. “Follow me.” Then she extended her hand toward him.

As the enforcer knocked louder, Raphael took her dainty hand in his and was surprised by the jolt of pure, undiluted happiness he felt at the contact. She was soft and warm against his callouses, and his wolf howled when she squeezed his hand. The words “home” and “haven” popped into his mind, followed by the image of a chocolate she-wolf running free in a meadow.

“Come on.” The girl pulled him toward a room to the right.

The small bedroom was lit by a nightlight. In passing, Raphael saw an empty bed, then noticed the pillow in the corner amid a pile of children’s books. The girl’s scent was strong in the room, and saw the pillow had an indentation. She had likely been sitting on it when he had interrupted her reading time.

While his nose told him she didn’t belong there, his eyes told him she wasn’t there to steal either as he had thought at first.

“This way.” She applied pressure through her hold to steer him to the left where a big, arched window opened into the night. “You’re okay with heights, right?” With another smile, she freed his hand from hers and opened the panes. “See you around.” Then she climbed over the windowsill and was out of the room, leaving him behind.

He was sure he looked like an idiot standing before the open window, but when she released his hand, he and his wolf had felt lost. Sadness overtook him, but hurried steps coming from the other bedroom roused Raphael from his grieving stupor.

“What is it?” a woman asked.

“Open the door, ma’am. You’ve got an intruder—”

Raphael didn’t linger to hear the rest of the conversation, jumping over the windowsill he landed on the cornice and looked around. The girl was gone and so was her beautiful scent. His wolf cried in despair long after.

Chapter One

Rome, 2013

Raphael balanced his boots on the edge of the marble fountain as he walked over the smooth slab. Taking pride in not slipping over the water stains, he marched progressively faster but soon grew tired of the game. Facing the statue sprouting water from an amphora, he back flipped, made a figure as if he were riding a skateboard—he was holding his messenger bag thus—and landed on his feet. Scattered applauses followed his act, and he bowed. “Afternoon, good denizens of Rome.”

The word of the day meant citizens.

Every morning, he sat at the neighborhood cybercafé and read his email. Not having lots of friends, almost the entire bulk of his daily mail amounted to spam he deleted right away. The only exception was the online dictionary newsletter he religiously followed, and for which he had a folder named Personal Growth. Street-schooled, his daily goal was to use the new word in a sentence before he went to sleep.

“Aced it.” He fist-pumped, and smiled at a girl he caught looking at him. “Mea domina.” My lady. Everything sounded better in Latin. Another interest of his. Living among Roman ruins had prompted him to study the language, if nothing else to know what the ancient inscriptions said. Tutoring himself was sometimes a challenge when there wasn’t a supervising adult checking on him. Although, the memory of his father’s judgmental words, “You’ll never amount to anything,” was usually a good motivator.

Early in the afternoon, the bright sun of January illuminating the Eternal City in fresh colors, Raphael had decided to go for a stroll in one of the poshest neighborhoods in Rome, Quartiere Coppedè. Penniless on his birthday, looking at the buildings designed by architect Coppedè would be his treat. Tickets for Botero, the newest exhibit at the National Gallery art museum, were too expensive, but he hoped to scrape up enough money to buy one soon.

The Roman Forum and the Coliseum were a few bus stops away, but he had visited them countless times and was in the mood for something slightly less archeological in nature. Sleeping in the catacombs had ruined the novelty of ancient for him. At the moment, Raphael couldn’t even stand the sight of a Roman column.

To break the routine, sometimes he slept at the Den of Rejects, a clandestine community made mostly of underage renegades. He had discovered them while scouting around the spot he claimed as his own in the catacombs. The Rejects immediately welcomed him, but he hadn’t made up his mind yet if he wanted to be part of a community. Even though he liked the idea of making friends with some of them, especially with Angel, a were-panther who was particularly kind to him, Raphael still was weary. After having been subjected to rules and regulations under his father’s dictatorship for twelve years, he had come to value his freedom more than anything else.

Sitting on the edge of the fountain, he looked at the building he had christened the Fairy House, because of its turrets, pinnacles, and gingerbread trims. A famous immortal owned that house and it was rumored he had all type of parties. Raphael wondered if he could sneak in just once. The wealth the villa exuded didn’t impress him. He wanted the peace and quiet he could afford if he had enough in life not to be constantly on the run or having to worry for his next meal.

His nose twitched at the sweet scent of freesias coming off from one of the villa’s open windows. Crisscrossing his legs, he took out the sketchbook and the pencils from his messenger bag. To buy the art supplies, he had slaved for two weeks under Lazlo Torni, one sleazy werewolf who owned Faster Than Bite, a delivery service.

The afternoon light cut the Fairy House in shades of whites and yellows, accentuating the golden accents on the frescoes covering the façade. After tracing the building outline on the paper, Raphael filled the frame with minuscule details. The sun was setting behind the house, when he raised his hand and looked at the finished drawing. Pleased by his work, he put away the sketchbook inside the messenger bag and uncrossed his sleepy legs. His back and his butt hurt, but he felt happy.

Slowly getting up, he stretched his arms and looked around, only to spot the colossal frame of the Controller. “Great Wolf—”

The demon had his back to him, talking on a cell phone. Of all the places the man could be stalking in Rome, he had to be walking around Quartiere Coppedè.

“Happy sweet sixteen to me.” Raphael was sure there was a cosmic joke somewhere to be found, but was too hard-pressed to appreciate the humor in his current predicament.

Forcing himself to slow his pace, he stepped away from the fountain and reached the side of the Fairy House, now in the shadow. His heart throbbed in his throat as he cleared the corner and kept walking toward the bridged archway delimiting the neighborhood. A red bus slowed down and stopped at the curb on Tagliamento Street. At a leisurely jog, he passed the arch and reached the bus stop, then hopped on the running board as soon as the bus exit doors opened.

Passengers stepping out complained, but Raphael pushed through the crowd until he was safely ensconced in the middle of the cabin, sandwiched between the afternoon commuters. He dared one peep out of the large window and saw the Controller staring at him. The man shook his head with a pronounced grimace on his face. As the bus lurched forward, Raphael waved at the demon. “See ya.”

Then a sweet scent he had never forgotten hit his nostrils and he turned, his heart beating as fast as his wolf’s as he faced a familiar pair of green eyes. A feeling of belonging descended upon him like a warm blanket.

“Hi,” the girl of his dreams said.

Two years had passed since the night of the botched robbery, but he thought of her every day. “You’re my mate and I’m in love with you,” he hurried to say, in case she would disappear again. It had been love at first scent for him, and he had known he would never love anyone else in his life. His wolf pranced around to be acknowledged.

Her eyebrows shot up and her lips curved in an amused smile revealing dimples on her cheeks. “It’s nice to see you.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His wolf demanded that he nuzzled her throat, and Raphael’s breath hitched at the image.

At the same time, the girl’s eyes lit and widened, casting a spell on Raphael who couldn’t see anything else but her.

“Tickets, please.” Walking among the crowd, the bus controller advanced toward them, and Raphael swore under his breath.

When he realized he had done so before the girl, he almost swore again. Polite company wasn’t something he was used to. The catacombs inhabitants had never complained about his colorful outbursts. “I didn’t mean to curse—”

She laughed then. “It’s okay.”

Shifting his weight from leg to leg, he glanced at the bus controller, then back at the girl and sighed. “I don’t have a ticket.”

“Me neither.” The girl’s smile deepened as she offered her hand to him. “Come with me.”

A sense of déjà vu possessed him as he took her hand. All his senses went in overdrive, while his wolf roared to be let out.

“Hurry—” She pulled him toward the back of the bus. The bus controller was almost on them when they reached the next stop. The girl jumped down as soon as the doors opened and he followed her to the sidewalk.

“We made it—”Raphael’s joy didn’t last long.

On the other side of the street, the demon was waiting for him. The Controller must have run the three blocks at full speed and looked pissed.

“You never quit, do you, demon?” Holding the girl’s hand tighter, Raphael sprang into action.

The girl tugged at him. “Friend of yours?”

Without relenting, he said, “We’ve been playing cat and mouse for a while.”

“That must be quite annoying, you being a wolf and all that.” Her small laugh reached him.

A smile escaped his lips. “You have no idea.”

Ahead loomed the majestic building of Coin, the four-story department store Raphael never entered because of its extra-large security guards. The merchandise offered was too elegant for him in any case. His style ran more toward the homeless-seven-day-a-week kind of look, and less toward golf club-on-a-Sunday-morning. But, hey, it was never too late for a change of heart.

Before entering Coin, he gave a perfunctory glance at himself and was relieved to see his clothes didn’t have visible holes. One glance at the girl and he couldn’t pass her eyes. She could have worn a burlap sack for all he was concerned and she would have looked perfect. He powered through the entrance with the girl in tow, and the demon only steps behind.

“Up or down?” He tilted his chin toward her.

“Up,” she answered.

“Up it is.” He took the large, marble stairs two and three at a time, and the girl kept up with his pace without complaining. Not knowing the layout of the store, at the landing he hesitated. The Controller’s heavy steps echoed in his ears and propelled him forward, forcing him to decide on the fly where to go and what to do next.

“There.” The girl squeezed his hand and pointed at the women’s sportswear section.

Still tethered to his hand, she jogged past him and pulled him forward. They entered the maze of shelves and mannequins, and the girl gracefully picked items here and there. With a handful of bras, panties, and yoga pants with matching jackets, all in several sizes, she headed toward the dressing rooms. There, she asked one of the pretty girls wearing the blue uniform to open a room for her.

Fidgeting with the gold Coin logo appointed on her shirt, the saleswoman gave them a raised eyebrow—but Raphael smiled at her. A moment later, she opened the door of a large dressing room.

Raphael followed the girl into the brightly lit space and couldn’t help a low whistle. “This place is bigger than the hole in the wall where I live.” As far as catacombs’ space went, he couldn’t complain though. And to be precise he only slept there, but realized he had already overshared.

The girl’s eyes widened, and the saleswoman’s nose twitched as she pointed a finger at him and said, “You wait outside.”

“Yeah, sure.” With a shrug, he stepped back out into the hallway, but as soon as the saleswoman turned the corner, the girl grabbed the lapels of his sweater and pulled him in. He repressed a laugh and closed the door with his boot, then relaxed against it.

“What’s your name?” she asked, opening her light pink jacket which she promptly let fall on the cream, padded bench.

“Raphael. Yours?” Fascinated, he stared as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it off in one graceful movement, revealing she was only wearing a tiny top that hugged her lithe frame and no underwear underneath.

“Luisa.” She then turned, raised the top over her head and stretched her hand backward. “Purple bra, please.”

With two shaking fingers, he picked the bra she had asked for and deposited it in her palm.

“Thanks.” She yanked the labels off, then donned the bra and reached for the hooks in the back. “Some help?”

“Sure.” Raphael had never seen a bra on a real girl and was afraid his hands would shake hard, making a fool out of himself. But, much to his surprise, he managed to match the hooks to their respective loops at the first try. He fervently hoped she hadn’t noticed he had held his breath the whole time.

“So, you’re a Raphael.” She lowered her top back over the bra and turned to face him.

“Don’t I look like one?” His eyes kept traveling down to the purple shadow now coloring her thin top.

She nodded. “You’re the definition of a Raphael.” Leaning over the pile of clothes she had thrown on the bench, she selected one of the pants.

“And how is that?” He couldn’t believe she would remove her pants before him, but she proceeded to do it a moment later.

“Handsome, mysterious, kind, smart.” She shimmied down her jeans, revealing boys brief with an army of smiley faces on a red background, then kicked off her heavy boots.

Her words hit him more than the sight of her naked skin. His knees giving up, he fell on the bench and stared at her speechless.

“I’ve thought of you. All this time,” she said. “I wished I’d see you again.” She stood, looking down at him, in her top, briefs, and white cotton stockings that reached her knees.

“Why did you run away that night?” He had looked for her. A few days later, he went back to the alley and searched every corner, hoping she would reappear out of thin air, like a dream.

She shrugged. “I’m on the run too and not used to company. I thought splitting would give us both a better chance.”

“What are you running from?”

“The usual—”

She was skin and bones like him and he had seen the faint lines on her wrists. Once werewolves went through their first change they healed fast, but still scarred when the cuts were repeated over a short period of time, or had happened before shifter puberty. He knew. His back could attest to that. “Abusive family?”

“Something like that.”

He nodded. “Me too.”

The demon’s booted steps echoed too close, and with them the lighter clicking of the saleswoman’s heels.

“I’m not going to the Renegade Youth Shelter.” She wore a pair of pants and another on top of that.

He helped her layer up three jackets that fit thanks to the different sizes she had chosen. “Me neither.” Pocketing the remaining bras and panties for her, he propelled her out of the dressing room and almost into the Controller’s arms. Acting on pure instinct, Raphael drove his knee into the demon’s groin.

The Controller’s eyes bulged as a strangled scream exited his mouth and he doubled over.

Raphael couldn’t help but grimace in a sympathetic reaction. “Sorry.” He pushed the Coin girl aside, and holding Luisa by her elbow he ran out of the dressing rooms, away from the women sportswear floor, and down toward the ground floor and the exit. When he turned and looked over his shoulders, he saw the demon jumping the stairs three and four at a time. The alarms blared as he and Luisa flew through the exit.

“Great Wolf!” Luisa’s new clothes had just cost them their freedom. He was never so sloppy as to leave the security tags on the items he borrowed from stores. Besides the Controller, at least four big guys wearing the security uniform started running after them.

Raphael knew they wouldn’t be both able to escape. “Remember I love you.” He fished inside his messenger bag, looking for the ten euros he had saved for his birthday meal; two slices of pizza at his favorite place, and a beignet filled with custard from the pricey bakery near Termini Station.

Stepping out of the walkway, he put two fingers in his mouth and called a cab. “That’ll be enough for a short ride.” He pressed the euros in her hands.

One yellow car pulled over. Luisa shook her head as Raphael opened the passenger door and pushed her inside, while looking over his shoulder.

“Come with me,” she pleaded and his heart broke.

The Controller and two of the security guards exited Coin at the same time. A second cab was slowing down, the driver expectantly looking for clients. Raphael didn’t have any money left to send the second cab away. If he got in with Luisa, the demon would follow them.

“You were right two years ago, splitting is the smart move.” Raphael then asked, “Where do you live?”

Luisa’s eyes went to the side, then back on him. “At the Mattatoio.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Caroli.”

“Luisa Caroli. I promise I’ll find you.” With a pat on the ceiling he closed the door. “I’ll always find you,” he mouthed.

The cab left the curb as the Controller grabbed Raphael by the shoulder.

“Mr. Letta, we meet again.” The demon’s hand kept Raphael in place as he automatically struggled—he couldn’t help it.

“Not by choice.” Waiting for the taxi to be out of sight, he only relaxed when he was sure Luisa was safe.

Chapter Two

Only two months at the Renegade Youth Shelter, and Raphael had tried to escape countless times.

On top of the fence, his right leg swinging on the other side, he heard shouts and heavy steps and looked ahead. The Reserve stretched out for acres, but a vast plain between the shelter’s grounds and the forest hindered Raphael’s dreams of freedom. Only low shrubs dotted the expanse of green pasture. Nowhere to hide for a kilometer or so.

Raphael had waited for the adults to look away from him, and snuck out of the cafeteria while the other kids had breakfast. His pockets full of croissants and small sandwiches, he hurried down the hall and out of the main house. As for any of his other attempts, he had no plan.

“Get back here!”

The shout made him turn and look down at the two burly guards. Both were-pumas, the two men hadn’t even broken a sweat chasing him. Healthy food and a good exercise regime must work for those shifters.

“Come on, kid. You know you have nowhere to go.” The one with a pair of impressive sideburns shook his head, and pointed at the ground with his stun gun.

Noticing the second guard had his stun gun pointed at his nether regions, Raphael climbed down and followed the shifters back to the shelter. A dose of electricity applied anywhere on his body wouldn’t have been pleasant, something he knew from experience. And it wouldn’t have helped his cause. A scrawny werewolf seizing on the ground would not be able to stand up and run anytime soon.

The RYS rector, Mr. Valdi, one of the new additions to the place, looked at him with a scowl on his large face. The werewolf was bigger and more menacing than the guards who escorted Raphael into the dark office. Mr. Valdi sighed, shook his head, then splayed one of his massive hands onto the marble surface of his antique desk, a mammoth piece of wooden furniture with sturdy columns for legs. “I must confess I am at a complete loss with you. We all want to help you here—”

The lecture was old. The Controller had imparted a similar speech on Raphael during their long ride from Rome to that strip of Latium bordering Umbria where RYS was located. Raphael scoffed and shifted on his chair, an equally large wood and metal structure which resembled a torture device more than something one would sit on.

“I know what happened to you, but things have changed. The man who mistreated you—”

Raphael looked straight into Mr. Valdi’s eyes. He steadied his hand on the armchair, and gripped it until his knuckles became white.

Raphael was roaming the shelter looking for an early-morning snack, when he rounded the corner just out of the kitchen and heard whimpering and the sickening sound of flesh being hit. The tuff brick walls of the old casolare, the main building of the compound, were thick, but not thick enough to cover what was happening in the pantry.

Upon Raphael entering the dimly-lit room, Mr. B, a majestic werewolf and RYS’s counselor, looked up at Raphael and sneered, one hand firmly grabbing the waistband of Darla’s pajama pants. “Go away, if you know what’s good for you.”

Kept on the floor by the counselor, the girl looked up, fear and shame in her eyes, then lowered her head. As if it was her fault.

“Leave her alone.” Bile travelled from Raphael’s stomach to his throat and propelled him forward. His anger exploded in a punch aimed at Mr. B’s jaw and he managed to kick the man once, before the counselor rose and spun around, taking Raphael down with a single slap of his beefy hand. Blood welled up inside Raphael’s mouth and he spat it out, aiming up at the looming figure.

The man kicked him in the chest, then threw him around. Raphael landed in the corner and hit his head, blacking out. Once he opened his eyes, he found himself facing the floor, his back bare and Darla rocking on her haunches a few steps from him.

“I’ll teach you a lesson, you good-for-nothing bastard.”

“Let her go.” Raphael heard the familiar rustle of a belt being freed from someone’s pants. When he looked over his shoulder, Mr. B had the punishing device high over his head and ready to strike.

“What are you going to do, runt?”

Raphael refused to cry out when the hard leather hit his bare back.

“Nobody’ll believe you.”

The belt whistled in the air and hit Raphael a second time. The pain compounded. He knew the third lash would be hell, and the fourth would make him bite his tongue. If he were lucky, the man’s arm would tire soon. His father’s never had, but he’d had years of practicing on Raphael’s back.

The little girl screamed. Raphael looked at her and slightly shook his head.

“You won’t talk.” Mr. B hit him again.

Darla’s sobs redoubled. She was maybe eleven years old. Small. All skin and bones. She liked to draw rainbows and hearts. Raphael knew because he had found a carefully folded piece of paper under his pillow a few nights before. His name was inside an oblong heart, scrabbled alongside hers.

“Stop,” he mouthed, hoping she would see his lips moving under the cascade of tears and hair. He couldn’t faint again. He had barely halted Mr. B from abusing her.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed the hour, five o’clock in the morning, and Mr. B stopped hitting Raphael. “You’re a lucky son of a bitch.”

The first light of the pale morning illuminated the pantry from the skylight nestled between the large wooden beams in the ceiling. The kitchen staff would arrive soon.

“Talk, and I’ll finish what I started.” Mr. B kicked Raphael to make him turn and face him. “Do you understand?”

Raphael didn’t answer. Remaining awake past the tenth lash had required all his strength. Darla had stopped crying, but stared at him with glassy eyes, her small body shaking.

The man grabbed Raphael by his forearm and pulled him up. “Go.”

His back was wet with blood, and every movement amplified the pain. Shaking, he reached down to help Darla and his skin ripped around the multitude of cuts as he took her small hand in his. “She comes with me.”

“I don’t think so.” Mr. B walked the few steps separating them, and towered over Raphael.

Unbidden, a growl escaped Raphael’s throat. His wolf had decided to make his presence known.

Mr. B inflated his chest, stepping closer until mere centimeters separated them. “Are you challenging me?” He planted a finger on Raphael’s forehead and pushed.

Raphael swatted the finger away and kept his eyes on the man, without flinching. His wolf growled louder, while he kept his hold on Darla’s hand. Steps resonated from the end of the hallway.

With a jerk, the counselor turned, and Raphael lowered his free elbow aiming for the werewolf’s groin but hit his abdomen instead. Not an incapacitating blow, but enough to make Mr. B recoil and step out of the way. Raphael sprang forward and pulled Darla with him. Muffled conversation reached them and he froze. His heart sank when he recognized the voices of two of the kitchen staff who were friends with the counselor.

Mr. B’s focus switched from Raphael to Darla, a sneer on his mouth. “Whatever you say I did, they’ll say I didn’t. And tomorrow night, I’ll come back for you.”

Darla whimpered and Mr. B laughed. Helped by the added strength of his wolf and without letting go of her small hand, Raphael sprinted through the arched exit and ran, passing the kitchen staff and reaching the casolare wing that opened into the gardens. He didn’t stop until he reached a thick copse, where he lay down, but not before making sure Darla was all right.

The following night was a full moon. He shifted into his wolf while unconscious and woke the morning after with the majority of his wounds healed. Darla wasn’t at his side.

“The former rector should’ve managed the whole situation better,” Mr. Valdi said.

Raphael wasn’t listening to him. The memories of that night, two years before, were etched on his mind, even though the flesh had healed one full moon at a time.

“They should’ve believed you.” His monologue ended, and Mr. Valdi looked at Raphael.

“But they didn’t.” Raphael was accused of spreading lies about the counselor.

Darla told the rector that Raphael had asked her to follow him to the pantry with the promise of a treat, and Mr. B had saved her from Raphael. As soon as his solitary confinement had ended, he ran away.

Street smarts had kept Raphael away from the shelter for two years.

“Anyway, I can’t change your past, but I’m trying my best to make your future brighter by working on your present.” Mr. Valdi’s eyes went to the door at Raphael’s back.

Raphael felt a prickle of worry as he realized that heavy steps had paused outside the rector’s office. “I won’t go anywhere with the Controller. I’m a minor. You can’t send me to Regina Coeli.” His biggest fear was to end in the adult correctional facility for paranormals. Strong men died in there.

The rector looked back at him and blinked. “Why would I send you to Regina Coeli?”

A knock on the door prevented Raphael from answering, “Aren’t you?”

“Please, come in.” Mr. Valdi looked back at the door. His voice had softened and his eyes betrayed eagerness.

Raphael turned on his chair to face the newcomer, and was surprised when the rector sprang up and walked around the desk to greet a giant of a werewolf.

“Mr. Quintilius, it’s always a pleasure to have you here.” With his head bowed in submission, Mr. Valdi waited for the man to make the first move.

At hearing the guest’s name, Raphael understood the reason for the rector’s demeanor. Lucius Seneca Quintilius was the alpha of the largest werewolf pack in Rome, but his empire extended beyond the capital’s borders. His influence reached well beyond Italy to the far corners of Europe. Some shifters would have considered themselves fortunate to be in the same room with the alpha.

Raphael wasn’t some shifters and couldn’t help his visceral reaction to authority figures in general, and werewolf alphas in particular. With an inward groan, Raphael adjusted his lanky frame on the chair, letting his back slouch as he kept his eyes on the men.

The werewolf took the rector’s hand in his for a vigorous shake, releasing the man from the formal show of respect. “Likewise, Rector Valdi.” With an easy smile, he patted the rector’s shoulder.

Mr. Valdi motioned for the man to sit on the chair beside Raphael’s. “This is the young man you wanted to meet.” He gave Raphael a raised eyebrow that Raphael decided to ignore.

If the rector wanted to bow and show throat to the big wolf, that was his business. Raphael was no pack member and wouldn’t submit to another wolf. He’d had enough of that under his father, his alpha, the man who should have taught him the way of the wolf. With a shrug, he blew his bangs away and made a mental note to get a haircut.

As Mr. Quintilius descended on his chair, making the structure whine as if it would crack and break any moment—the man was even bigger than the rector—he offered his hand to Raphael. “Hi, Raphael. How are you?”

Surprise made Raphael’s eyebrows shoot higher up his forehead. He wasn’t accustomed to being treated with kindness, and wondered in which way these two adults would take advantage of him.

“He isn’t the talkative kind, is he?” Mr. Quintilius’s baritone voice was pleasant to the ear, another detail that put Raphael on edge.

On the street, flattery usually equated with requests that were sexual in nature. Raphael, whose features were too delicate, as his father had often told him before or after a beating—his attempts at parenting were misguided—knew what older men and sometimes women wanted from him when they softened their voices and paid him compliments.

Mr. Valdi sat back behind his desk and crossed his arms with a loud sigh. “No, he isn’t.”

“Well, he has his reasons.” Mr. Quintilius distended his legs in front of him and relaxed against the back of his chair.

Once again, Raphael noticed how the man dwarfed the large structure. For a wolf, Raphael was small. Not so much in height, although he probably wouldn’t reach the alpha’s chin on his tiptoes, but in size. Abundance of food of the healthy variety wasn’t part of a street urchin’s diet. Before the Controller sent him back to the shelter, he sometimes went days without a whole meal.

Mr. Valdi turned toward Raphael. “As you might know, Mr. Quintilius is RYS’s patron—” He let the sentence trail, maybe expecting an acknowledgment from Raphael that didn’t come.

Mr. Quintilius raised his hand and continued, “I’m truly sorry for what Mr. Beltrami did to you. RYS should be a safe haven for renegade kids, and when that girl finally spoke up for you and denounced the counselor it was one of the most terrible days of my life. I know I can’t make it up to you for what happened, but I would like to make you an offer.”

“What kind of offer?” Gasping for air, Raphael leaped out of his chair. Since the werewolf had entered the room, Mr. Valdi’s office had become progressively smaller.

Memories of groping hands and lewd whispers came back to Raphael, and his stomach contracted, adding nausea to the claustrophobia. One of the first nights in the street after he ran away from home, he was lured into a dark alley by two couples and barely escaped theirs clutches. Those people who had tried to take advantage of him had looked like the alpha, nice and polished. Since then, he never trusted elegant, well-spoken people again.

Mr. Quintilius motioned for him to sit down. “Relax, kid. I’m talking about a clerical job.”

Even standing up, Raphael wasn’t much taller than the sitting alpha. Cocking his head, he planted his booted feet on the marble tiles and folded his arms across his chest. “And what would that be?”

“Raphael—” Mr. Valdi’s low growl echoed in the stuffy room.

With a chuckle and a wave of his hand, the alpha interrupted the rector. “It’s okay.” Then he smiled at Raphael, all white teeth and eyes lit with mirth. “You remind me of someone else with an alpha-complex. And I hold her very dear to my heart.”

“Is that so?” Automatically, Raphael showed his teeth too and his wolf snarled.

A heartbeat later, the rector jumped out of his chair and grabbed Raphael’s elbow. “Apologize!”

Raphael realized he had gone too far, but he hadn’t survived on the street for being tame and shook his head.

“It’s okay. Really.” Mr. Quintilius too left his chair and made a show to mime Raphael’s cocky stance, then looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. “Kid, I understand your need to challenge me but I’m here to hire you for a decent job.” His expression relaxed as he added, “I’ll even offer you boarding.”

“Why?” Raphael shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

Shaking his head, Mr. Valdi stepped before Raphael, but not before casting him a disapproving look. “I apologize for his—”

A loud snarl filled the room as the alpha’s chest inflated. “For the last time, there’s absolutely no need for apologies.” He breathed in and out, then let out a softer growl. “For the record, I’ll take an independent and smart thinker over a sheep, any day of the week.”

Although Raphael remained silent, he couldn’t help but be pleased by Mr. Quintilius’s statement and it must have shown in his more relaxed stance, because the alpha gave him a bright smile and asked, “Any questions?”

“Yes, I have one.” Raphael turned toward Mr. Valdi. “Where’s Darla? Is she okay?” As soon as he came back to RYS, he looked for the girl and discovered she didn’t live at the center anymore, but none of the kids knew what had become of her.

Mr. Valdi rested both arms on the armchairs and cleared his voice. “Darla is well and living with her new family in Verona. A few months after you ran away, she was matched with a foster family that adopted her. Soon after she moved out, my predecessor received a terrible call from her foster parents. Darla broke in tears one night and told them about the counselor and what he did to her, to other kids, and to you.” He sighed, his eyes unfocused for a moment, then he looked back at Raphael. “The former rector looked for you everywhere, but you’re good at hiding—”

“What happened to Mr. B?” Raphael asked.

“He got his just punishment,” Mr. Quintilius answered, a cold edge in his tone.

“Good.” Raphael’s opinion of the alpha had changed significantly for the better in the last few minutes, and he now felt more at ease in his presence. “So, clerical work you say—”

“Filing documents, typing mails, secretarial tasks. That kind of work. Interested?”

“Anything that gets me out of RYS and back to Rome interests me,” Raphael said, then looked at Mr. Valdi and added, “No offense, Mr. V.”

Mr. Valdi shook his head, but smiled. “None taken.”

“See you tomorrow then.” Mr. Quintilius thrust his hand forward before Raphael could answer and Raphael found himself shaking it.

The next day, Raphael packed his meager belongings—a grocery bag stuffed with three shirts, one holey sweater with the Roma FC logo, a few mismatched socks, and underwear—and left RYS.

Chapter Three

Sunday afternoon at the Den of Rejects meant board games, and Raphael couldn’t wait to show Angel the two Catan expansions he had just bought with his second paycheck.

Two full months had passed under Quintilius’s reign, and having the alpha as his boss wasn’t bad. Even though the scholastic year would end in a month, the wolf tried to convince Raphael to enroll in a high school, but Raphael had shown him how—despite that he hadn’t seen the inside of a classroom in years—he had taken care of his education. Quintilius was pleasantly surprised by Raphael’s eclectic knowledge, but informed Raphael that he would pay for a private high school next fall. Not particularly pleased with that prospect, Raphael regarded the date as far away in the future, forgot about it, and focused on his current job instead. The clerical work was boring but easy, and he had the weekends free.

For once, life didn’t suck.

Had he had found Luisa already it would have been perfect. Maybe Quintilius would help her too and maybe they could go to public school together—he wouldn’t dare ask the wolf to pay for two tuitions. He also had a feeling it would never fly to live under the same roof, but they would find a solution to that. It was good to dream.

Leaving the hustle and bustle of the Spanish Steps behind, he descended toward the Metro. Unbeknownst to mortals, the subway ran alongside the higher level of the Promenade, the paranormal underground world that stretched for kilometers under Rome.

Having taken the Spanish Steps Metro entrance many times before, he walked straight to a Roman arch with the infinitum symbol carved on the cusp. A rusted metal door with the sign “Keep Out” lay hidden in the shadow behind the thick wall of the arch. Since magik protected the entrance and no mortals were allowed, he only had to lower the handle of the door to leave Rome behind. A blink of an eye later, he faced the cobblestone street bordering the black waters of the river Styx.

Daylight illuminated the copper roofs of the cafés and eateries built alongside the river, and playful winds pushed white, fluffy clouds around the ceiling dozens of meters above. Magik spells created the outdoor scenery and replicated the external weather. Raphael breathed in the scented air and merged into the crowd strolling by. The Promenade was always busy. Playground for diurnal and nocturnal paranormals, all the restaurants and stores were open 24/7. Using part of the ancient catacombs and what remained of the Suburra, the Roman seedy underworld, the Promenade had been Raphael’s sanctuary for a long time.

Although he was now legit and could walk leisurely, he jogged instead. Old habits die hard and the Promenade was usually swarming with enforcers. He couldn’t help but look over his shoulder for anyone following him, and he only relaxed when he reached the tunnel that would lead him closer to the Den of Rejects. In his five years as a runaway, he had taken great care in mapping the Promenade tunnel system. As a result, he knew all the shortcuts and how to navigate kilometers without stepping into Magik Nation. More than once he had used his extensive knowledge of the underground terrain to escape the Controller.

Before leaving the Promenade proper, he realized he had a few euros left to buy food from one of the street vendors by the river bank. The appetizing aroma of steak cooked on an open fire pit reached his nostrils and he growled. A few minutes later, his appetite was assuaged, and he slipped inside a fissure in the rocky wall that had been large enough a month ago, but now seemed too tight. He held his breath and pushed himself to the other side, board games and all.

The tunnel too had shrunk, and he was relieved when the narrow space opened into a small chamber from which three tunnels departed. Raphael entered the one in the middle. Several turns later, he exited the tunnel and entered the portion of the catacombs he knew all too well. Finally, he left the gloomy area to approach the entrance to the Den of Rejects.

Built to resemble a rocky wall, a partition made of bricks covered in plaster and moss hid a natural arch beyond which lay the rejects’ shelter. The first time Raphael saw the place, he was blown away by the level of industriousness shown by its inhabitants.

The den was an ever-evolving recycling project. Everything was built from scratch using scraps of whatever the kids could find inside the Promenade dumpsters. Colorful and joyous, the den had a main road, dormitories for the younger kids, private, one-story houses for the older and the couples, and common areas where everyone gathered during their free time. Walls were treated like canvases, and murals decorated the buildings. Art, in every form, was promoted, and the rejects displayed sculptures and paintings all over the main road. Presently, a May Tree adorned with garlands and origami birds greeted people at the entrance of the Recreation Hall.

Raphael ducked under one of the tree branches, and entered the hall. New chairs and bookshelves had appeared in less than two weeks. New faces greeted him as well. The center had been growing steadily under the indifference of the so-called good society for some time. Paranormals were a bunch of hypocrites. If one didn’t pledge allegiance to the Immortal Council, they were considered renegades. Once a renegade, one was an outcast and didn’t have any rights. In a nutshell, a renegade could lie wounded on the streets and no one would help him. The only exception was if the renegade was underage. In that case, the Immortal Council would send enforcers to flush him out for the Controller. Raphael couldn’t wait to be eighteen and not have to worry about adults breathing down his neck.

Although, when the demon had caught him at Coin, he had acted as if he was worried about him. Raphael shrugged at the thought—too alien to contemplate—then saw Angel sitting at one of the tables and waved at him.

Eyeing the two bags Raphael carried, the were-puma waved back. “Hey, what you got there?”

“Presents.” He showed Angel the logo on the plastic bags. “Got paid, again.”

Pushing his chair out from the table, Angel whistled and stood to meet him. “Brand new from D&D Parlor?”

“Cities and Nights, and Seafarers.” Raphael leaned to give the were-puma a one armed hug and passed the two heavy bags to him. “Unbox them.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Angel lingered a moment in the embrace before releasing Raphael. “We got plenty for free.”

The board game store owner was a nice immortal who let Angel have the display sets once they became shelf-worn.

“I don’t need the money.” Raphael sat at the table and crossed his legs at the ankles, waiting for Angel to open the boxes. When choosing the two expansions, he had imagined how much the were-puma would fuss over such an extravagant gift. None of the rejects could afford superfluous goods. “Never worked so little in my life and earned so much. Plus, I have a roof over my head for the first time in four years. And I got meal tickets too. Here, have some.” Reaching for his rear pocket, he picked the small bundle of cardboard cards he had tied with a rubber band. The meal tickets—good as money and accepted by every eatery in Rome—were the real reason he was visiting today. The rejects were a proud bunch and wouldn’t accept charity. Buying the board game expansions was Raphael’s evasive tactic.

Angel’s eyebrow shot up, and he paused from tearing apart the plastic film securing one of the boxes. “It’s okay. We don’t need them.”

Raphael relaxed against the chair and placed the stack of meal tickets on the table, then pushed it with one finger toward Angel. “Quintilius invites me for lunches so often I barely have to pay for a meal.”

“Still. What about Saturdays and Sundays when you don’t work?” Angel leaned away, as if repulsed by the offending pieces of cardboard, and sat ramrod straight.

“I have more left. Don’t worry.” Raphael pushed the stack closer to Angel whose eyes went to the tickets but still didn’t make any move to pocket them. “Tell you what, if I find myself hungry, I’ll come here.”

Angel’s chest deflated but he finally nodded. “Promise me you won’t starve.”

“Does it look like I’m starving to you?” Flexing his arms, Raphael showed how he filled the white shirt Quintilius had bought for him, along with a whole wardrobe of proper clothes.

“Is that a Rome F.C. sweatshirt?” Quintilius asked upon Raphael entering his office.

At the door, the secretary who let him in, a horrid werewolf who had already tried to shoo him out, snorted, readjusting her severe glasses over her thin nose.

Raphael tried to hide a big hole on the right sleeve by hugging himself.

With a shake of his grizzly mane, the alpha added, “That won’t do. I’m a Lazio F.C. fan,” then directed his focus on his secretary. “Cancel my appointments for the morning.”

“But, Mr. Quin—”

“Yes, Iris?” The alpha stared the woman down, and even Raphael quivered in sympathetic response.

The secretary scurried away, and Quintilius took Raphael out to buy new clothes.

For the first time in his life, Raphael was the owner of a whole wardrobe of garments that fit his frame like a glove. A far cry from the outfits he collected from charity bins, or “loaned” from second-hand stores.

Angel gave Raphael a once over and smiled. “You look good.” Despite the piercing on his lip, and the scar bisecting his right eyebrow and continuing under his eye down to his cheek, the were-puma had the softest smile and the gentlest hazel eyes.

“Who knew eating, sleeping, and exercising regularly would do that to you, ah?” Last time he checked his weight on the pharmacy scale, Raphael discovered he had gained several kilos. With the job perks came access to the gym located under Quintilius’s offices, and he hit the place daily. Not even a month, but his arms were bigger already, and he was now working on his legs and abs.

“Keep at it and you might be strong enough to spar with me soon.” Angel wasn’t bulky, but like his animal, he was sinewy and lethally built. Not a gram of fat on his sculpted body.

“I might best you.” Raphael grabbed the second box and gave it a spin on the table.

“You might.” Angel resumed unpacking the expansion and removed the cardboard lid with barely concealed excitement. “Look at those cards. So neat.” He brushed the content of the box, his fingers caressing the small wooden figurines with reverence. “And the smell…”

In truth, Raphael had saved to buy those gifts, but witnessing Angel’s happiness was worth it. His friendship with the shifter was a priceless and unexpected gift he had almost ruined once. “So, do we get to play today or what?”

Angel rolled his eyes and sighed. “Give me a sec. I’ll go grab Catan and look for Patrizia and Paride.” He left the table and jogged out of the Recreation Hall.

Once alone, Raphael gave the newcomers milling around a good look. He waved at the closest and the kid waved back. No introductions were made and that was okay with him. Kids who ended at the Den of Rejects weren’t the easy-going kind. Renegades, very young renegades, found their way to the den after years of abuse. General mistrust toward humanity was a given.

With his boots placed on the opposite chair, he watched as a couple of laughing shifters—a boy and a girl, werewolves like him—jogged inside the hall, their long manes dripping water. Shaking their heads at the same time, they splashed everyone nearby, causing an uproar of expletives. The couple stopped at the table next to Raphael, where they discarded their soaked outer clothes. The boy helped the girl disentangle her arm from her flimsy sweater, and he brushed her skin with a feather light kiss that made her giggle.

A void formed in Raphael’s stomach, and he averted his eyes. Alone in a crowd. With some effort, he willed the unpleasant sensation away and focused on the lines between the worn cobblestones paving the ground. When the couple started making out in earnest, he studied the intricacy of the braided canes forming chairs, tables, and every other piece of furniture in the hall.

Much to his relief, and not a moment too soon, following on the werewolves’ trail of watery boot prints, Angel walked back in and gave the couple a scowl. “Would it kill you to change into something dry before coming here?”

The boy shrugged as the girl smiled. “We’ll clean up, don’t worry,” he said.

“It’s so hot down here, we needed a splash,” she added.

Angel dismissed their reasons with a wave of his hand, and plopped down on the chair in front of Raphael, placing a worn set of Catan on the table.

“They’re right though. It’s hot.” Raphael tugged at his shirt collar, exposing a bit of flesh to cool his skin.

The den was ventilated through several fissures on the cavernous ceiling. Protected by magik, thanks to the shelter proximity to warlock and witch territory, the rejects enjoyed natural light without Rome being the wiser. Although, compared to the outside temperatures, the place was several degrees colder in winter or warmer in summer, no one suffered from any of the maladies related to poor vitamin D absorption. In addition to his various interests, Raphael liked to read from medical texts as well, but usually kept his knowledge for himself.

Angel’s eyes went from Raphael’s throat to the open box on the table. “I want to play a few rounds first.” Behind him, Patrizia and Paride, twin were-pumas, sauntered across the hall, exchanging words with a few shifters before they reached their table.

“Hi, wolf.” Patrizia grabbed a chair, turned it, and sat astride lowering her chin on the frame.

Raphael tilted his head toward her and smiled, then greeted her brother with a nod. The twins were fun. He wouldn’t count them as friends, but wouldn’t have minded getting to know them better. “Care for a game?”

“Always,” the twins answered at the same time, as Paride lowered himself beside Angel. His hand trailed down and his fingers furtively brushed Angel’s thigh.

Happiness and relief filled Raphael at once.

Angel’s lips hovered close, soft and inviting.

Starving for a touch that wouldn’t become a slap, Raphael leaned into the were-puma’s embrace. He had been frequenting the Den of Rejects for some time, and he liked hanging out with Angel. Usually, he went back to the catacombs to sleep, but tonight they had stayed at Angel’s place, talked until late, and snacked on junk food he had “procured” for them at one of the Promenade’s minimarts. Among the bounty were two cans of lukewarm beers they drank in long sips in between mouthfuls of greasy chips.

Angel’s finger gently pushed Raphael’s chin up. “I think I’m falling for you.”

Raphael’s heart slammed inside his chest. Shaking, he abruptly stood on his feet, putting distance between them. Mere centimeters that divided them like kilometers, and tore him apart. The pleasant buzz he had felt only a moment earlier was gone, a sour aftertaste in its stead. “I—” The hurt on Angel’s face was painful to look at. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head and cleaned the unwanted tears staining his cheeks with his sleeve. “Angel, I—” Yearning for the warmth of a soft caress, Raphael wished he could go back and hold him. Although they hadn’t known each other for long, he cared for the shifter already. “I can’t.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I understand.” Angel, so much bigger than him, now sat on the floor of his bedroom, his chin on his bent knees, curled up in a tight ball.

To Raphael, the sight was as painful as if Angel had lashed out at him. “I’m not free. I’m in love with someone already and she’s my mate.”

Angel raised one hand for Raphael to take, and he accepted the offer. They spent the rest of the night in silence, Raphael’s head resting on Angel’s shoulder.

Raphael caught Angel stealing a glance at him, and he gave the were-puma a smile and a wink. Angel’s lips curved up.

“You’re back.” Patrizia passed a finger over the plastic film on the unopened box. “And with gifts.” Using her long nail, she cut the transparent seal, then removed the lid with a satisfied smirk.

“Yeah, where did you disappear?” Paride grabbed the instruction manual from the opened box.

“Long story short, the Controller caught me, Quintilius hired me, and I now live outside of the catacombs.” Raphael omitted the part where he avoided the den for weeks, and how he preferred to sleep inside a hole in the wall meant for a coffin or under a bridge rather than confront Angel’s pain.

Paride angled his chair backward until its front legs detached from the floor. “That sounds fun.”

“Heaps of it.” Raphael unbuttoned his shirt and turned up his sleeves. Halfway through May, but outside in Rome the weather resembled July. Down in the den, temperatures were well into August digits.

Angel and Paride read Cities and Knights’ expansion rules, while he and Patrizia set the board. Raphael noticed how the two boys seemed to move and talk in synch. Two hours later, they had played through a shortened version of the game. The heat inside the chamber had become progressively more unpleasant, and they agreed to declare whoever reached eight points first the winner. Angel won. Meanwhile, the sun set and the soft glow of hundreds of candles illuminated the Recreation Hall. That too was courtesy of the neighboring warlocks and witches.

“What about a visit to the lagoon?” Paride asked.

“Isn’t it too late for you? Don’t you have a curfew or something?” Angel asked Raphael, his arms folded on his chest.

Raphael pushed his chair aside and grabbed Patrizia’s hand to help her up. He had a curfew, but didn’t want to be by himself. “Nah, it’s okay.”

“Let’s go.” Paride jumped up and let his chair fall to the ground with a loud thud.

They hiked through one of the tunnels sprouting from the den and connecting the shelter with different entrances to the Promenade and Magik Nation. More than half of the kids milling in the hall joined them, including the raucous couple.

Raphael had known of the lagoon before even knowing of the den’s existence, two gems he found thanks to his walkabouts. The natural pool was one of the many wonders of an underground world mortals knew nothing about. Illuminated by a big eye in the ceiling and protected from mundane attention by magik, the basin of crystalline blue waters was situated inside Magik Nation proper and bordered the den. Despite warlocks and witches kept to themselves and didn’t like intruders in their territory, they allowed the rejects to use the premises without restrictions, showing how they kept the kids in higher esteem than they did the rest of the paranormal society.

“Did you find your girl?” Angel asked as they walked inside the spacious chamber of the lagoon.

Filtering from above, the pale rays from a half moon created a circle of wavering light in the middle of the waters and illuminated the sandy floor of the pool, casting everything in a floating azure light.

“I haven’t.”

The first time he visited the den after coming back to Rome, Raphael talked to Angel about Luisa, how they had met the first time, and how fate had reunited them for a spell. He talked for hours, hoping his words would explain why he had rejected the were-puma. Angel listened without interrupting, and at the end hugged Raphael, then whispered, “I hope you’ll see her again soon.”

Confiding in someone else had been a novel experience for Raphael. One he didn’t know how to define, unable to decide if it was good or bad for him, and yet he wished he could open up more.

Removing his heavy boots, he continued, “I’ve asked around at the Mattatoio, but nobody seems to know of her.”

“Maybe she hasn’t gone back there.” After discarding his shoes, Angel unbuttoned his jeans and kicked them off.

“Maybe.” Raphael looked at the others, already down to their underwear, and was reminded of how truly different he was.

Paride ran toward them, pushed Angel off the ledge, then cannonballed after him and made a big splash that reached Raphael, soaking his shirt.

“Come on! What are you waiting for?” Angel waved at him, water cascading in rivulets from his dark curls.

Raphael stood on the ledge and slowly shook his head.

“What do you need? A formal invitation?” Patrizia grabbed his sleeve, and tried to lower it down.

“Don’t.” He stopped her hand with his own and saw her flinching, but didn’t find the words to make it better. “I must go.”

Instead of returning to his studio, he biked the twenty kilometers to Testaccio, the neighborhood where the Mattatoio was located. The ride should have cleared his mind, but he was still too keyed up.

At the door, one of the mortal social workers, Lina, greeted him. “Glad you showed up.”

After a month of daily visits, Raphael had managed to be accepted by the adults running the youth homeless shelter. He hadn’t had any luck in befriending the kids, but not for lack of trying. “Heavy shift?”

Shoulders slumped, Lina massaged her arm. “Same old story. A new girl arrived tonight—” She shivered.

Despite he had been sweating only a moment ago, Raphael felt cold too. His heart, already beating fast from the breakneck ride, doubled its pace, until he could barely hear what the social worker was saying.

“She was covered in blood, the poor thing. So small. Barely sixteen…”

Without a word, Raphael sprinted past Lina, leaving the Mattatoio main gate behind and heading toward the infirmaries. After it had become clear that Luisa wasn’t there, Raphael had kept visiting the place hoping she would one day show up. Soon, he found himself volunteering alongside the doctors who performed miracles on a daily basis.

“Where is she?” He looked around the large room with the green walls. The light fixtures hanging from the high ceiling were rocked by a gust of wind, and he felt like he was being swayed, underwater. Most of the beds were empty, but a small crowd hung in the far corner. He didn’t dare move. “How’s she?” In the surreal silence, his voice was carried over by the chilly gust.

Roused by his question, the crowd parted. A young mortal doctor he had seen once or twice before—volunteers from the neighboring hospital changed every week—looked up from a bed. The man sat on a rickety chair and held a small hand in his, covering the rest of the patient with his hunched body. Raphael saw the blood coating both the doctor’s scrubs and his hand. A breath later, he saw the cuts on the small wrist and his heart stopped beating.

While hyperventilating, a random tidbit about the place came unbidden to him. The building that housed the social center had once been an ancient municipal butcher shop, and according to legend, its walls had been painted with dozens of layers of green to cover the red sprayed everywhere.

Cursing the image away, Raphael forced his legs to cover the distance to the corner, but every new step was heavier than the previous. By the time he approached the bed, his boots anchored him down as if made of concrete, for all the strength it took him to walk the last meter.

The horrifying sight of one hand, so little and still, its white skin marred by red, froze his heart altogether.

“Luisa—?”

Chapter Four

His question dispersed the crowd. The three nurses and the two paramedics all gave Raphael a glance, then occupied themselves nearby.

“Do you know her?” the doctor asked, leaning back against the chair.

Centimeter by centimeter, the still form came into view, revealing how small the girl was, how her body was swallowed by the narrow hospital bed. How her hair was red and curly, and not Luisa’s.

His nose had known right away she was a werewolf, but not his mate. Yet, he had needed his eyes to confirm the girl wasn’t Luisa. A snarl escaped Raphael’s mouth and soon morphed into a choked cry. His knees sagged.

“Is she your friend?” the doctor had dark circles under his eyes and his speech was slow. “We need to contact her family.”

“Sorry, I don’t know her.” Free to breathe again, Raphael walked all the way to the doctor’s side. “What happened to her?” At a closer distance, the faint blue marks on her pale skin stood out, telling part of the girl’s story.

“She tried to kill herself, but someone must have found her and dropped her by the gate.” The doctor passed a shaking hand through his matted hair. “I don’t even know how she’s still alive. The loss of blood, and her injuries—”

A commotion at the entrance diverted the doctor’s attention. Two teens dragged a third into the infirmary. With difficulty, the doctor pushed himself up, and, followed by the nurses, met the trio halfway.

Raphael sat on the vacated chair and kept vigil on the girl for the rest of the night. Around seven o’clock, she woke, and at Raphael’s sight, she screamed and scooted away from him, only to calm down when one of the female nurses took his place. That told him the rest of the girl’s story.

“Go home.” Lina accompanied him outside.

Awake for more than twenty-four hours, Raphael mounted his bicycle and rode all the way to the other side of the city to start his day at Quintilius’s office. The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed nine in the morning as he walked past the secretary station.

Iris raised her nose from the envelope she was opening with a paper knife and made a show to dilate her nostrils. “You are sixty minutes late and didn’t even bother with a shower.” Her cold, grey eyes studied him from head to toe. “Your clothes are filthy.” She pointed a bony finger at his shirt.

Raphael looked down and saw the girl’s blood on him. During the night, she had thrashed around in the bed and he held her in his arms worried she would fall. With a shrug, he shuffled to his office, and heavily sat at his desk. A pile of documents waited for him to be photocopied.

“Raphael!”

Quintilius’s voice startled him. Disoriented, he opened his eyes and saw the angry alpha staring down at him.

“What are you doing on the floor?” Quintilius grabbed Raphael and pulled him up.

Iris stepped inside, a malicious glee illuminating the harsh angles of her face. “Told you he was a good-for-nothing—”

“Iris, out.” Quintilius raised his arm to the side to indicate the door, and the woman had the grace to exit in silence. “You.” He squeezed Raphael’s arm, then let him go, looking at him long and hard. “This—”

Following the finger pointed at the messenger bag on the marble tiles, Raphael blinked, puzzled. The bag had an indentation, and he automatically brought a hand to his face. Under his probing touch, his cheek felt all wrinkled. When did he slip to the floor for a snooze?

“—I won’t tolerate,” Quintilius finished with a roar.

Raphael stumbled backward and hit the edge of his desk. From outside, Iris witnessed the scene with growing satisfaction. Unable to speak and say the words that would excuse himself, he stared at the wolf. Angry tears filled his eyes, but he refused to cry. Finally, he stepped beside the table and sat. Keeping down the bile, he lowered his head. “I apologize.”

Despite how tired he still was, he was now fully awake.

As soon as Quintilius stepped out of the building, Iris came to speak to Raphael. “People like you are the scum of the Earth. You are not the first one I’ve removed from his life, but you’re proving by far the easiest. And as you might have noticed my whispering lies in his ear is already working.”

Raphael didn’t give her the satisfaction to look hurt, and silently sat as she walked to the desk with a stack of documents.

With a cold smile, she placed the pile before Raphael. “These are the shipping contracts for the load of lumber that just arrived from the Alps. They must be copied, catalogued, and faxed to the Wolf Sea’s captain before five p.m., so the cargo can sail from the port of Civitavecchia to Istanbul’s tonight.”

Raphael waited for the woman to leave his office, then set to work and finished an hour earlier. He was about to leave, when Iris came back.

“Are you done with it?” She carried two manila folders.

Nodding, Raphael pointed with a pen to the copied papers he had neatly stacked on the desk beside the originals. If he opened his mouth to answer, her he would unleash his fury, which was what she wanted him to do, so he kept quiet.

Her cold eyes stared him down. “Good.” She sounded disappointed. Then she lowered the manila folders on the desk. “Here are the contracts for the marble slate shipment that must leave tomorrow morning from Livorno. You know the drill.”

As Raphael finished the new task she gave him, she came back once again with yet another folder.

“I forgot about the terracotta tile cargo that was stopped at customs in Los Angeles, earlier this morning. They need a copy of the original contract you filed two days ago,” she said.

Reaching for the folder Iris had deposited on the desk as far away from him as she could, Raphael collected all his strength and smiled at her.

Past dinner time, Raphael was finally able to leave the premises.

The secretary had stayed as well. “Look how late it is,” Iris said, as she punched the security code to lock the office and broke one of her manicured nails.

The venom in her eyes and the twitch on her lower lip gave Raphael enough fuel to hastily retreat to the ground floor, from where he was still able to hear her tirade. Too exhausted to care, he took the stairs to the garage, but decided to leave the bicycle there instead. After buying a slice of pizza and a soda from the pizzeria at the corner of Quintilius’s offices, he hopped on the first bus to Testaccio and the Mattatoio. There, he met Lina, whose shift was ending, and inquired after the werewolf girl.

“She’s awake. Another girl would’ve died with that amount of blood loss.” Lina walked him to one of the stalls separated from the rest of the infirmary by fabric screens. “Don’t feel bad if she doesn’t want to talk to you. She screamed at the doctor who saved her life too,” she whispered before disappearing behind the screen.

Only wanting to check that the girl was okay, Raphael waited for Lina to announce him. A few hissed words later, Lina reemerged, and he was allowed behind the beige curtain where the girl lay huddled under the thin duvet, depressingly matching the color on the walls. Green hope covering red blood.

“Only a few minutes, okay?” Lina patted him on his arm and left.

Raphael shuffled closer to the footboard, one hand holding his messenger bag in place over his shoulder. “Hi.” Tilting his head to move his long bangs out of the way, he gave the girl a smile. “How do you feel today?”

Emotionless, the girl stared at him, resembling a statue in her stillness.

When he realized she had no intention to answer him, he stepped back and turned with a parting, “Okay.”

“Wait.” Her voice reached him on the other side of the curtain.

He pivoted on his heels and walked back to her bedside. “Let’s try this again.” With a wave of his free hand, he said, “Hi. How are you?”

The girl shook her head. “Alive.” Tears shimmered in her blue eyes.

“And you aren’t happy about it?”

“No. I can’t say I am.”

“That’s a shame.”

Her mouth opened, but she didn’t say anything. Shaking, she raised the duvet to her nose. The scars on her wrists were healing. Next full moon, they would be gone.

“It gets better.”

“Says who?”

His right eye twitched, the harbinger of a migraine that would soon wreak havoc on his fatigued system. “Someone who thought more than once that dying was preferable to living.” He looked for a chair, but there was none.

Frowning, she hid both hands under the blanket. “Why?”

“Because the pain was too much.” He massaged his temples.

She looked down and brought her knees up. “Then why didn’t you?”

“Kill myself?” The green and the beige mixed as he swayed.

She nodded.

Too tired to stay on his feet anymore, Raphael patted the bed in a silent question. The girl shrugged, he took that as a yes and let himself down by the footboard. “Because I really hate to lose.” His back throbbed, as it often happened when he revisited his past. The RYS psychologist had explained to him the pain wasn’t due to any physical reason but triggered by his memories. The man had used a few acronyms, but the only one Raphael remembered was PTSD because he liked the post prefix; it gave him hope to think his problems were in the past. Too bad they wouldn’t let go of him.

“Are you okay?” the girl tilted her head to the side, slightly relaxing her curled up position as she rocked her body.

“Yes—” He swatted away a mosquito buzzing too close. “I’m fine.” Trying to soften the scowl he knew was on his face, he smiled and waved his hand in greeting again. “I’m Raphael.”

“Carla.” She lowered her chin to her knees. “Why were you here this morning?”

Lowering his shoulder, he let his bag fall to the floor, then leaned against the footboard. “It didn’t feel right to leave you alone last night.” His eyes went to the faded bruises on her jaw. “Plus, everyone around here is mortal, and you might have needed help to skedaddle before having to explain your miraculous healing.”

As Carla listened to him, her facial expression changed from surprise to shock. “Wait. You stayed the whole night?”

Looking for a more comfortable position, he hugged the bed frame with one arm and raised his black boot to the mattress. “Yes.”

She gave the boot a raised brow and he straightened his leg. “I don’t understand. We never met before,” she said.

With a shrug, he changed position yet again, then sat on the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor, elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his united hands. “I thought you could use the help. That’s it.”

“Thanks.”

“No biggie.”

“I’m sorry I screamed at you.”

“You must have had your reasons.” The overhead light was harsh, and he squinted at Carla.

A long silence followed, then she sniffled once, tears followed and she was soon crying. “I was given to two boys—” Her chest shook with uncontrollable sobs and she brought both hands to her eyes. “They… they—” Words ran together until her speech became unintelligible. Clutching her stomach, she finally said, “I’m only alive because one of the two came back to check on me, and when he saw all the blood, he panicked. I remember him staunching the cuts I made on my wrists with his shirt. Then he scooped me up and drove me here.” Despite the tears, by the end her voice had become calm and much colder. “I hate them for what they did to me.” She raised her eyes to his. “And I hate him for not letting me die.” Then as if she had spent the last sparkle of energy left in her, she collapsed to the bed and cradled herself into a fetal position, her eyes closed.

Raphael scooted closer to her and lowered his hand toward her head, but let it hover, worried the gesture would upset her. She surprised him though, sitting up and seeking the comfort of his arms. He had no words for her. Nothing he would say could lessen her suffering, but he embraced her closer and gave her a shoulder to cry on. Later, when her sobs lessened and her breathing evened, he released her to the bed and rearranged her pillow, then tucked her in.

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll come back tomorrow.” He scooped his bag from the floor and pushed himself up.

Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Thank you.”

“Bye, kid,” one of the male nurses greeted Raphael on his way out of the infirmary.

The clock on the wall wasn’t working, but one glance at the cell phone, Quintilius’s gift, confirmed he had missed his ride. It was past midnight, and the next bus to Vescovio Place—where the alpha owned the building complex Raphael lived in—wouldn’t be by for another hour. The idea of waiting out in the street didn’t sound appealing to him, so he dragged his feet back into the infirmary where he huddled on a stretcher.

Loud cries woke Raphael in the middle of a nightmare starring his father. A bleeding boy was being carried in by a nun who yelled as loud as her charge.

The male nurse and the same doctor from the night before rushed to help the nun. The nurse took the kid from the woman’s arms as the doctor fired question after question. Raphael watched the scene unfold from his corner, but sprung up as the doctor called for him.

“We’ve a full house tonight. Can you check on the kid on the gurney over there?” The doctor pointed at the opposite side of the room. “See if he needs anything.”

“Sure.” Mind still numb from sleep, Raphael reached the kid. “You okay?” He passed one hand through his hair, then yawned.

A scrawny, little thing, the street urchin—a gypsy from his colorful clothes—looked up, pain etched on his face, and shook his head. “I’m fine.” Maybe ten years old, the boy’s eyes were red from crying and now dry.

Remembering he had, at some point in the night, pocketed the rubber band he used to tie his hair, he fished for it, but only found a quarter and a candy wrapper. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

The boy sat and hugged himself, as if cold. “Can you stay with me?”

Nodding, Raphael anchored his boot on the wooden stool by the bed and moved it closer. “Do you like stories?”

A small smile graced the boy’s lips. “What kind of stories?”

“What stories do you like?” Raphael sat on the stool, his elbows on the bed.

The boy perked up. “Dragons.”

“I love dragons.” Raphael swung the satchel to the front and retrieved his sketchbook and a pencil. In minutes, his tale was accompanied by winged creations flying all over the pages.

In between tales, the boy, Marek, confessed he had run away from his camp because his older brother was mean to him, but he missed his mum and da and wanted to go back. He had ended up at the Mattatoio infirmary after a close encounter with a speeding car. Fortunately, Marek was agile and had escaped from the accident with just a bruise or two.

Two hours later, Raphael put down the pencil at the sound of soft snoring. “And they lived happily ever after.”

“You are a natural.” Looking down at the sleeping boy, the doctor gave Raphael a pat on the shoulder.

Taken by the narration, Raphael had shut down his senses and hadn’t heard the man approaching. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“We alerted all the nomad camps in Rome and already talked to his father. He’s on his way to pick him up.” The doctor smiled at Raphael.

“Good.” Pressing his hands on the bed, Raphael pushed himself up. He felt lightheaded and fell back on the stool with a thud.

“Easy.” The doctor raised one finger to signal he should stay put and briskly walked to the kitchenette. A moment later, he strolled back with a fuming cup of espresso. Judging from the size of the mug, the doctor had filled it with a double or triple.

“Thanks.” Raphael accepted the coffee and the three sachets of sugars the doctor produced from one of the pockets in his scrubs.

The doctor waited for him to drink the beverage, then said, “You’ve done enough. Go get some sleep.”

Several nurses turned to thank Raphael as he exited the infirmary for the second time that night—now early morning. The cold air outside kept him awake when he would have otherwise laid his tired body on the bench at the bus stop and slept. The empty bus arrived twenty minutes later, at three in the morning. By the time he reached his studio, it was too late to sleep and too early to take another bus and go to the office. Opting for a cup of strong espresso and a scorching hot shower, he made himself presentable for Iris.

Despite Raphael’s efforts to greet Iris at the door when she arrived to open the office, the secretary still complained about his groggy demeanor. His day didn’t improve when Quintilius showed up later in the afternoon, and Iris pointed out Raphael hadn’t finished his morning tasks.

Passing by the hallway, Quintilius paused at Raphael’s office, and called him from the open door. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing, sir.” Hands folded over his chest and jaw clenched, Raphael tried to relax his stance. His wolf was restless, and Raphael worried he would challenge the alpha. Close to full moon, only two days before the monthly shift, his wolf was already acting out, demanding to run.

“You look like crap.” Quintilius entered the room and advanced toward Raphael’s desk. “Another sleepless night?” His intent eyes roamed over Raphael.

“No, sir.” He unfolded his arms and placed his hands palm down on the smooth surface of the table.

The alpha frowned. For a moment, Raphael worried the man could see through his lie, but then Quintilius asked, “Are you okay?”

Confused by the question, Raphael was tempted to confide in him, but he saw Iris spying on them from her desk. She had it conveniently angled so she could see inside his office that was to remain open at all times per her request.

Raphael stifled the urge to talk and plastered a smile on his face. “Perfectly fine, sir. Thanks for asking.”

Quintilius sighed, turned and walked out, but at the entryway he whispered over his shoulder, “Don’t let me down, kid.”

At the alpha’s parting words, Raphael’s midsection cramped. The same RYS psychologist had told him it was how his body responded to uncomfortable situations. In the past, throwing up had usually followed the cramps, and migraines would start soon after. Uncomfortable situations sucked big time.

When the clock in the hall chimed five in the afternoon, Raphael escaped his office and cleared the personnel only exit before Iris could say anything. Running down the steps at breakneck speed, he reached the garage, then grabbed his bicycle and left the building. He passed the gym, but even sparring wouldn’t calm his nerves, so he kept pedaling, zigzagging through cars and pedestrians, and earning a few insults in the process.

His stomach still hurt, but his mind had cleared by the time he reached the Mattatoio. A whole different shift was in charge of the infirmary that evening. He nodded at the man at the door and asked for Carla.

“She was feeling much better and moved to the shelter.” The man pointed out at the hallway and at the door opening to their right.

Raphael thanked him and headed toward the shelter. Built inside the Mattatoio, like the medical facility and the infirmary, the youth homeless shelter helped paranormals without mortals being the wiser. Possibly the only tenet keeping all paranormals united, renegades knew how important it was to keep their true identities concealed at all costs. So, it wasn’t a surprise that Carla had opted out of the infirmary and gone to the shelter.

“Hi.” He found her in the common area where the kids were entertained with craft projects.

“Hi.” She waved at him from her low chair. Sitting at the small kid table, she was playing with a little girl with curly hair. “This is Lara.”

The girl bounced on her seat and Raphael smiled at her. “Hi, princess.”

The girl made a smack sound with her chubby hand over her lips.

“She’s her daughter.” Carla tilted her chin toward a group of teenage girls milling in the corner by an industrial stove.

The little girl was human and so was her mother, the one teenager with curly hair the same color of the girl’s. When you lived on the streets, problems were the same no matter the species one belonged to. Paranormals were more resilient, but they were susceptible to the same heartache as humans, and to the lure of drugs. Pregnancies happened.

Lara raised her short arms toward Raphael, and he took her in his embrace, then spun her around as she giggled louder and louder, asking him to go faster. Her mom came a moment later with a bowl of mashed potatoes and accompanied her to a nearby table.

“Her father is in jail,” Carla said when mother and daughter were out of earshot.

Raphael was surprised there was a father at all. “She’s lucky.” He sat on the little chair, his legs straight in front of him.

Carla tilted her chin toward Lara’s mom. “From what I heard, it seems he’s actually in love with her.” Carla’s voice had a sad tinge to it, she then turned to Raphael, leaned over the table and grabbed his hand. “What if I’m pregnant?”

“I can get a pregnancy kit for you, but if you ask any of the nurses, they can test you now.”

“Okay.” But she didn’t sound like she was going to act on that.

“Talk to a counselor. There’re nice people here. They can help you.” He squeezed her hand.

“They’ll ask details.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t want to talk to anyone about what happened to me.” She avoided his eyes and took her hand away from his.

“You’ll do it when you feel like it.” A cramp hit his stomach. “Do you want me to bring the kit tomorrow then?”

She nodded, her eyes on the maroon veneer peeling from the table.

“Do you have a place to go?” Raphael looked around.

Designed to give teens a few days respite from the trouble they were trying to escape, the social center was a temporary house. Social workers would be called soon for Carla; their mission to help her find a place in mortal society.

“No, I don’t.” She hunched over the table and hugged herself, slowly rocking on her chair. “And I don’t want to go to RYS.” Her eyes widened and her lips trembled as she said, “Please, don’t report me to the Controller. I heard what happens there—”

Raising one hand, he stopped her. “It isn’t as bad as it was before at RYS, but I’d never report you.”

She heavily sighed and stilled her chair. “Thank you.”

“You still need to be out of here by tomorrow. It’s a full moon in two nights.” He released his ponytail and played with the black rubber band.

“People might be looking for me already—” She paused for a breath, then added in a whisper, “I escaped from the Reds.”

“The Reds? You mean the street gang?”

She nodded.

Having stretched the rubber band to its limits, it stung his fingers when he accidentally released it. “Shit.”

She shivered. “They won’t stop until they find me.”

“I heard they’re resilient.” In his past life on the streets, he had the misfortune to meet the Reds a few times, and they weren’t happy memories.

The Reds were one of the most aggressive bands of lawless thugs that had ever darkened the streets of Rome. Werewolves who had decided to defy Quintilius’s power and desecrate his city, one drug deal at a time. They didn’t mind dirtying their hands with the occasional human trafficking as well. Despicable and ruthless, the Reds would hurt Carla until she would try to kill herself again.

Raphael had no doubts she would succeed next time. “There’s a place you could go.” He pushed the chair aside and offered her his hand.

She looked up but didn’t move. “What? Now?”

“It would be for the best.” He glanced at the clock on the wall shaped like a Mickey Mouse silhouette. With a smile he forced in place, he stretched his hand further toward Carla. “And it’s still early enough for me to accompany you there and be back to my apartment before midnight. I might get some sleep tonight for a change.”

Seemingly unaware of his attempt at lightness, she resumed the rocking. “What if the Reds catch us in the streets?”

“I know where their turf is, and we’ll be moving in the opposite direction. Plus, the place where I’m taking you is underground and accessible through the Promenade. So we won’t be out for long.” Tying his hair back, he tilted his head toward the exit. “Not lots of adults around at the moment. There won’t be a better time to leave the Mattatoio.”

Twisting on the chair, she gave the room a brief glance, then faced him and stood. “Okay.”

He put both hands in his jeans pockets and strolled toward the exit opening to the internal courtyard. With a side glance, he checked she was following and saw her take a big breath and exhale as she closed the distance between them.

Lights and sounds from one of the Mattatoio internal chambers, the auditorium, spilled into the courtyard. The social center was famous for its music festivals. Groups from all over Italy donated their time to raise money for the homeless youth shelter. Several teens were hurrying past them toward the auditorium, and Raphael inwardly thanked the Great Wolf for the lucky break.

Grabbing Carla’s hand, he pulled her forward and into the chamber filled to the brim with a swirling, singing, jumping crowd. It took them several minutes to cross the whole length of the room, and Raphael lost Carla when the lights went out and lasers cut the blackness in a dramatic song finale. Several long heartbeats later, after the lights were turned back on and temporarily blinded him, he found Carla frantically spinning around and shoving people away. Raphael took her hand and led her out through the closest emergency street exit. The next song had started, and no one heard the alarm blaring.

“Where are we going?” she asked, pulling at him when they rounded the corner.

“To retrieve our ride.” Without slowing his hurried pace, he reached the building side where he had chained his racing bicycle to a lamppost. The rust and general discoloration of the paint on its old frame worked like an anti-theft magik spell, but he was still relieved to find his bicycle where he had left it.

She gave his most precious possession a raised eyebrow. “Where should I sit?”

“In front of me, with your feet on the bar.” He patted the top tube.

Canting her head, she read out loud the words he had stenciled in red letters on the aluminum body. “Nimbus Two Thousand.” She gave him a second raised brow, this one higher up on her forehead. “Really?”

With a shrug, he mounted the bicycle. “Huge fan of the series.” He held out his arm and signaled her to come closer. When she hesitated, he tilted his chin to the spot behind her where several people were walking in their direction. “We should hurry.”

She followed his eyes and shuddered, then swung one leg over the bar and tried to find her place between Raphael’s and the front of the bicycle as she anchored her boots to the down tube. “I so don’t like this.”

Raphael didn’t feel comfortable either, but placed his arms around her, and grabbed the handles. “It’s just a short ride.” One boot on the pedal, he pushed the Nimbus out of the curb. Their combined weight and less than ideal visibility made the bicycle sway as soon as the wheels hit the worn cobblestones. “For the record, I’m not trying to get too personal, but you must lean back against my chest.” He didn’t want to touch her more than necessary, but with her head in front of him he couldn’t see anything.

She must have realized his predicament because she did as she was told without complaining.

“Thanks.” The new arrangement still wasn’t enough to guarantee them a smooth ride, and he nestled his head over her shoulder. When she tensed, he said, “We only need to reach the closest Promenade entry.”

Despite the awkwardness of the ride, a few minutes later Raphael was locking his bicycle in one of the many underground garages dotting the Promenade, but only relaxed when they slipped inside the Den of Rejects. A few words in private with Angel to explain Carla’s situation, and the girl was an official Reject in less than an hour. An impromptu celebration ensued, and Raphael found himself spending yet another night with little or no sleep.

Chapter Five

Around seven in the morning, mindful of what Iris would say the moment he set foot in the office, Raphael stopped at his apartment for a quick shower and changed into clothes that were clean but not ironed. A few days earlier—time was a blur for him—he had thrown the contents of the washer on the drying rack and forgotten about them, but, besides being wrinkled, the white button-down shirt and the dark jeans didn’t smell.

On his way to the office, he stopped at a coffee shop to drink an espresso, and bought a croissant he ate on the go. Relieved he had made it on time, he entered the office only to be welcomed by the secretary’s raised eyebrow, and a finger pointed at the clock on the wall behind her desk.

“Ten minutes late. For it, I’ll detract a percentage from your salary. It’s only fair.” Iris resumed tapping on the keyboard of her laptop, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve given you enough slack already.”

“My phone says I’m two minutes early.” He waved the screen before her face.

With a hateful glare, the woman paused her typing. “Don’t you dare encroach my personal space ever again. I’ll report that you attacked me if you do.” She placed her manicured hands on the desk, and tilted her head to the side. “You also get a fine for coming to work not properly attired.” Relaxing against her chair, she folded her arms under her chest. “Would you like to say something else?” Her eyes went to his long hair. “You know we’ve been talking about your education with Quintilius—”

Raphael couldn’t help but notice the proprietary tone she had when she mentioned the wolf’s name. Had she realized how Quintilius was not into her, she could’ve moved onto something more productive. Like growing a heart.

“I’ve recommended the alpha to send you to the military boarding school in Naples, next September. Structure and discipline would do you a world of good. He has enough clout among the board for the school to open a spot even for someone like you.” With a finger, she lowered the glasses down her nose and gave him the same disgusted look she had been regarding him with since the first time they met.

Raphael bit down his retort, as the croissant he had just ate traveled upward his throat with a side of bile. Pivoting on his boots, he loudly marched down the hall and entered his office. The moment the door slammed against its frame, he regretted that he didn’t take care to accompany it. Not even a minute later, as he had expected, a mail arrived with a detailed account of all the fines he had incurred in the last week. That month, his paycheck was already halved.

To make things worse, lately, he was paying for all his meals. Quintilius had been working on a merger with a Swedish shipping company, and he wasn’t around much to take Raphael out for lunch. In fact, their time alone had dwindled to nothing which—independently from the free food—saddened Raphael, because he liked talking to the wolf.

Besides the merger, Iris’s lies were the reason for the alpha’s detachment, but Raphael couldn’t do anything about it. Twice, he had tried to call Quintilius to talk to him, but the alpha was busy and both times told him he would call him back. He never did.

The next day, Iris gave Raphael hell for a stain on his shirt. He had tried to clean an ink smudge and smeared it all over the fabric by mistake. The day after, he came in late after the monthly run. Although, in that occasion, Iris was magnanimous—he imagined she must have had a good run—and didn’t reduce his salary. She sent away the janitor, and ordered Raphael to clean the bathrooms instead.

Needing the money and not wanting to go back to RYS, Raphael did his best not to ire the secretary. He succeeded for a day or two, then she proceeded to ruin the next week for him. And the next month. He tried to ignore her antics, but it wasn’t easy to shrug everything off, especially when she involved Quintilius. Those few times the alpha made an apparition in the office, Iris found a way to blame Raphael for some wrongdoing or another.

It didn’t help Raphael’s cause that he was always tired at work. Most of his nights were spent at the Mattatoio, helping the center. After he managed to lie through his teeth and deny any involvement in Carla’s disappearance—he said he had seen her last at the concert and had plenty of witnesses supporting his words—the staff decided not to investigate the matter further and welcomed him back as a volunteer. Meanwhile, several other renegade shifters found their way to the Den of Rejects, but Raphael smuggled them out of the shelter without anyone being the wiser. After all, homeless teenagers weren’t known for staying still in one place.

In the following months, Raphael went to visit the rejects every two or three weeks and checked on Carla. After realizing she wasn’t pregnant, she decided to join the den permanently and to help with the children. One Sunday afternoon, the five of them, Raphael, Angel, the twins, and Carla went to the lagoon. At the end of July, temperatures had risen to a record high all over Italy, and the den resembled a sweltering sauna. One of the warlocks, a guy named Caelum, who was a friend of the rejects, had insulated the cave walls by casting a spell. Magik made sleeping at night possible, but during the day even light activities took lots of energy, and the den usually relocated to the lagoon.

“About that girl you asked me about—” Carla abruptly said.

She and Raphael were sitting aside from the rest of the group. The lagoon was stormed by people engaging in all kind of activities, resembling one of the beaches along the Roman coast, too crowded and too loud with every bit of rocky ground covered by towels. The blue waters swarmed with rejects working out the steam. Some played water polo. Others preferred splashing everyone around. A few minded their own business and swam in long circles. Couples looking for privacy stayed out of the pool, and occupied more secluded spots.

Raphael and Carla sat on a ledge overlooking the lagoon. Neither of them wanted to remove their shirts for different reasons. Until now, they had been silently watching their friends having fun.

Raphael straightened up from his slouched position against the wall. “What about it?” Once, soon after Carla had settled in the den, he asked her if she had ever met Luisa on the streets. Carla had shrugged and told him she hadn’t.

She pointed at the spot, several meters below, where Angelo and the twins were swimming. “I was talking with Patrizia—” Then she angled her body toward him. “And she told me that this girl is very important to you. Is that true?”

“Yes, it is.” Raphael drummed his fingers against his thigh. “Why do you want to know?”

Carla bit her lower lip, then lowered her eyes to her feet. “So, is it also true that you only saw her twice, and yet you’re in love with her?”

The question took him by surprise. “Yes, that’s true. She’s my mate and I love her.” He waved a hand before her face. “Can you look at me?” She slowly raised her gaze to him, and he asked, “Why the third degree?”

Her shoulders rose as she gave him a small smile. “Nothing—”

“It’s not nothing.” He scooted closer to her. “Why do you want to know about Luisa?”

At Luisa’s name, Carla winced. “I wondered why you never…”

“I never what?”

Carla’s smile morphed into a grimace, and she made circles with her feet. “I told Patrizia I thought you liked boys, and she told me you don’t, and how you rejected Angel because of a girl.”

“It’s not that I like or don’t like boys. I already had a mate when Angel—” Frowning, he tried to connect the dots. A fuzzy picture emerged of the reason why Carla might have had that conversation with the twin. His head and his stomach hurt already. Not sure of what to say next, he waited for her to resume the conversation.

Her feet stilled, her whole body seemed to freeze, and she averted her eyes once again. “I might know of her.”

Carla’s whispered words hit Raphael like a shout. “What do you mean?”

“I think I know where your girl is,” she said louder.

“But you told me you didn’t know of her—”

“When you asked me, you only mentioned that this girl lived in the streets and was a renegade—” Carla raised one finger to stop him from interrupting her, and continued, “Then, talking to Patrizia, a few more details came out about this Luisa of yours, and I remembered of a girl living at the Reds—”

“The Reds?” Raphael felt cold all of a sudden.

Carla nodded. “I told you that I only lived with the Reds for a month, but, soon after I arrived, a girl who had escaped was brought back to the harem. Her name was Luisa, and no, I don’t know her last name. She had been hiding at the Mattatoio for a few days before Rico found her. I meant to ask her how she had managed to leave the compound, but she was still locked in a cell when I decided I couldn’t stand it anymore and tried to kill myself.”

With his heart galloping in his chest, and too many questions fighting for predominance, Raphael blurted out the first that came to mind. “Who’s Rico?”

“Rico is one of the big brothers and Luisa is his. Tancredi gave her to him.” Carla’s voice was low and the ambiance noise was getting louder—two teams had formed in the pool and the kids who weren’t playing the huge game of water polo were shouting to the top of their lungs, cheering their friends—and Raphael had to move closer to her, despite his wolf ears.

“And who’s Tancredi?”

“Tancredi is the Reds’ alpha. Sometimes, he gifts the girls from the harem to the big brothers.” She shivered despite the rising temperature.

Carla’s words made Raphael sick. From the look on her face, reminiscing wasn’t agreeing with her either. “That’s what happened to you?”

Her mouth closed in a straight line, she nodded.

Knowing how memories had the power to hurt even after years, he didn’t press the matter, but his mind was whirling with scenarios straight out of his nightmares.

She patted his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t put the pieces together sooner.” With a sigh, she added, “And it might not be her at all. Luisa isn’t that rare as a name.”

“You’re right, it isn’t.” He placed his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze, then leaned toward her and brushed the crown of her head with his lips. “And I’m sorry—”

“It’s not your fault you don’t feel anything for me.” A small smile appeared on her mouth.

“But I do care for you.”

She leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “I know that you care for me as a friend.”

“Carla—”

She placed her head over his chest. “It’s okay. I’ll survive.”

Several hours later, he took his leave from Carla and his friends, and headed back to his place. A plan had slowly formed in his mind, and, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him until he couldn’t see any other option. Next morning, he would knock on the Reds’ door, hoping it was recruiting season.

****

After a sleepless night Raphael spent convincing himself of the righteousness of his actions, he left his apartment. Before running away at the first lights of dawn, he cleaned the place, threw the garbage out, and wrote a note for the alpha, twice. And twice, he walked back in to get rid of his farewell messages.

At his favorite coffee bar at the corner of Vescovio Place, he ordered a sumptuous breakfast and ate until he felt sick. Not the best of ideas, but he had discovered he was a nervous eater when he had enough money to splurge on food.

Devouring his last croissant with abandon—he had asked the barista to fill it with extra nutella—Raphael realized he had just eaten away what remained of his last paycheck. As painful as the thought was, he felt also liberated. Guilty for having betrayed Quintilius’s trust and generosity, but liberated nonetheless.

Full and sleepy, he jumped on his Nimbus and left the security of the alpha’s protection without looking back once.

Rome in the early hours of the morning looked full of promise. Running his bicycle in the streets that would be soon crowded, he breathed in the scent of wet asphalt after the rain of the night before. Neighborhood after neighborhood, he shed parts of who he had been for the last four months and a half to become the perfect prospect for the Reds.

His past brushes with the street gang had taught him to avoid their territory at all cost. To the point that, when he worked as a courier, he would circumnavigate the whole city to skirt Red headquarters. Even if that meant adding precious time to his route. Once, one of the gang’s thugs caught Raphael delivering around the corner from their place, and demanded he opened the parcel he was carrying in the back of his bicycle. When Raphael refused, the Red slapped him hard with his ringed hand. For days, he sported the gang sigil on his lower lip. But he hadn’t opened the package. Instead, he slipped away from under the shifter’s nose and completed his delivery in time.

Now, he was walking straight into their lair. Life was full of irony.

He had his speech ready, but rehearsed the words in his mind as he pushed on the pedal and ran faster toward EUR, the futuristic neighborhood that housed several modern buildings, and, unbeknownst to the mortals, also the Reds’.

When he arrived at his destination, a four-story complex shaped like a sail with glass walls and an external staircase resembling a black mast, he had the first doubts about his plan. But he promptly squashed them, thinking of Luisa kept prisoner by the Reds.

One shaking hand on the lion-shaped brass knocker, he breathed slowly for a few counts, then lowered the ring attached to the lion’s nose to the plaque. As expected, the thud emitted by the knocker reverberated inside the building.

What Raphael didn’t expect was for the door to open right away, revealing a big werewolf wearing a chef apron over combat gear.

“Yes?” the Red asked, looking down at him.

With a rolling pin in his hands, and dusty-white handprints all over his black wife beater, the man looked comical. But one look at his bulging muscles, and Raphael’s urge to laugh died a sudden death. In fact, he remained speechless for a moment too long, and the shifter harrumphed and started closing the majestic door in Raphael’s face.

“Wait! I’m here to pledge as a prospect.” Raphael wasn’t sure about the vocabulary, but hoped to pass at least as deferential.

The wolf’s nostrils flared and gave him a second, more calculated look, then snorted. “Is this a joke, cub?”

Straightening his back, Raphael made himself taller, pushed his hands down his rear jeans pockets, and gave the man a slow grin. “I’m a thief, I delivered for Faster Than Bite, and I slipped right under Reds’ noses more than once. Ask your brother with the tear tattoo on his right cheek.”

“Is that so?” The Red’s face darkened at first, then he changed expression, and roared a forced laugh.

“I’m here to pledge,” Raphael repeated.

“I can’t believe this shit.” Undone by laughing too hard, Mr. Wifebeater brought his arm to his midsection. “Pup, you better scoot.” He wiped his eyes with a flour-dusted hand, spreading white powder over his face.

“I’m fast and I can do the runs for you—”

The Red pointed a finger at the Nimbus. “And you would do that on that piece of crap?”

Raphael shifted and planted his boots wider, then folded his arms over his chest. “Ask Lazlo Torni how I’ve always delivered on time when I worked for him. Even when that Red was after me.”

Mr. Wifebeater shook his head, tears still escaping his eyes as he gave in to more laughter. “Go home, kid.”

Refusing to be dismissed, Raphael stood taller and raised his chin. “Try me.”

The werewolf stepped closer to Raphael, and inflated his chest. “You’re funny, but playtime’s over. Go away or I’ll make you go away. Your choice.”

“I won’t go unless you try me.” Raphael’s statement triggered another bout of hysterical laugh, and he gave the Red a cold stare.

“You’re cute.” Mr. Wifebeater waved the rolling pin at Raphael. “Listen, if you don’t run I’ll try you all right.” He made to close the door, but Raphael put his boot in its trajectory and blocked it. “What the—”

His boot was crushed by the wolf forcefully pushing the door from the other side, but Raphael clenched his teeth and stood his ground. “Give me a chance to prove myself.”

“Move. Out. Of. The. Way!” The bellow was loud enough to startle a few stray cats napping in the corner.

The door was slammed against his boot three times in rapid succession making his eyes tear. He breathed through the piercing pain, then answered, “I. Won’t.”

Obscene swearing accompanied another round of boot-bashing. Almost at the end of his physical endurance, Raphael willed his trembling leg still.

The door was ripped opened and a furious wolf exploded out of it. The Red grabbed Raphael by the collar, then hit him with his free hand. His body betrayed him and Raphael fell forward. A hard slap on his ear caught him midair, sending him against the wall. Disoriented, his injured foot gave away, and he slid to the sidewalk.

“What’s happening?” someone asked from the street.

“Not your business,” the werewolf answered as he closed the door.

Raphael blinked, his ear rang, and everything sounded distant, but he heard steps getting closer.

“Hey, are you okay?” the passerby asked, leaning over him.

One leg outstretched before him, Raphael gave the man a wave of his hand. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I can call an ambulance. The police—” The man had his cell phone ready on his hand.

“There’s no need. Thank you though.”

“You don’t look okay—” The man fidgeted with his phone.

Raphael wondered where those good citizens were when he was beaten daily by his father. He could have used some help then. Pushing himself up without swearing was a feat, but he achieved verticality with a mere grimace. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. Just a misunderstanding with my friend.” With a smile that hurt his face, he wobbled to his bicycle, but instead of mounting the Nimbus he walked it away. His ear still ringing, he was unbalanced for the first few steps, but got the hang of it soon.

Rounding the corner, he looked behind to check if the man was still there. He was. Raphael sighed and hurried to enter the first alley he encountered. There, he hid behind a dumpster and waited, flattened against the wall.

A few heartbeats later, the man strolled past the backstreet, then came back, his steps slow as he paused a few meters from Raphael. Shaking his head, the man finally left, and Raphael let out the breath he was holding.

“So help me Great Wolf from the good Samaritans.” Sliding along the wall, he sat on the thin layer of asphalt covering the cobblestones, taking a breather before going back to the Reds’.

When he knocked, Mr. Wifebeater opened the door. “You gotta be kidding.”

Squaring his stance proved problematic—his balance wasn’t fully back yet—but Raphael stood tall before the wolf. “Put me to work.”

A jogging couple stopped on the other side of the road, and the woman bent to tie her shoes while her companion glanced at them.

The werewolf gave Raphael one exasperated look. “Go away.”

“I won’t.” Raphael waved at the couple. “Hi.”

“What are you doing?” The wolf’s hand shot forward and grabbed Raphael by his shirt.

While smiling at the couple, Raphael lowered his voice to say, “If anything happens to me, people saw me talking to you here.”

Mr. Wifebeater’s eyebrow arched, a grin tugging at his lips. “Yes, but, apart from the fact that a few witnesses mean nothing to me—” He twisted Raphael’s shirt in his hand. “If anything happens to you, believe me when I say that you’d never be found.”

“You don’t scare me.” Still with his eyes on the couple, Raphael shrugged. “Give me something to deliver.”

The wolf shook his head, but released his hold on him, and started laughing. Then he stopped, his brows furrowed for a moment, soon replaced by a slow smile. “You know what? I’ll give you something to do. But if you fail, you promise to never come back. Understood?”

“Understood.”

Looking behind his back, the wolf stepped forward. “I need you to get something for me”

“I deliver—”

“Lesson number one, and it’s free this time. If you really want to pledge, you don’t talk back to a big brother. You lower your head, and say ‘How can I be of service?’” The wolf stared Raphael down.

Prancing and howling, Raphael’s wolf rebelled in his mind, but he had expected his beast to react that way and forced him to behave. Good thing the moon was new, and the wolf was at his least powerful. With what he hoped was his most humble look, Raphael lowered his head and repeated, “How can I be of service, big brother?”

“You aren’t a pledge, so you don’t have permission to call me anything but sir.”

At that, his wolf jumped ahead to challenge the Red’s beast. Willing him to stay put a second time, Raphael ground his teeth, and let out the required words. “How can I be of service, sir?”

“Bring me back a vial of V, and I’ll think about talking to the alpha about testing you.” With a satisfied smirk, the Red shushed Raphael away.

The door was already closing, when Raphael grabbed the lion knocker. “For when do you need it, sir?”

The werewolf looked at him from over his shoulder, surprise on his face, but he covered it with a scowl. “I want to be generous. I’m on door duty until ten, tonight. Come back with my gift before then. Now leave or I’ll change my mind.”

Shaking legs and mind in turmoil, Raphael took away his hand from the knocker and watched as the door closed. A long list of swearwords left his mouth, as he moved away from the Reds’ and tried to reorder his thoughts toward finding a solution to his predicament. All the while, he would have given anything to know if Luisa was in that building, as Carla had suggested. Otherwise, he was about to go against his moral and infringe several laws for nothing.

After his limbs stopped trembling and he had cleared his mind, he mounted his Nimbus. The longer he rode his bicycle, the easier it became to accept he was about to steal V. Pedaling without sparing himself, Raphael concentrated on the task ahead. He had to reach the city center and Termini Station within the hour. There, he hoped to find the two shifters who had declared war on drugs one street at a time. His entering Reds headquarters depended on it.

Chapter Six

Termini Station was filled with people. Not just commuters and travelers swarming inside the big structure, crisscrossing paths on their way to the platforms or leaving them. Outside, a whole world gathered 24/7. Immigrants—from several parts of Asia, Eastern Europe, and Africa—had claimed the large area around the station as their own. They used the premises to meet and greet, to sell and buy, to play games of chess, and even to have cookouts.

Raphael loved the micro-worlds of the station, each ethnicity never straying in someone else’s territory, but always polite to their neighbors. Sometimes, cultural exchanges were made, and colors mixed, then everyone would go back to their corner.

Dismounting his Nimbus, one hand on the handle, Raphael ventured into the melee, looking for Edoardo and Ludovico. A team of two, they were also known as the Street Angels for their safety patrol work within the renegade community. A few years older than him, and belonging to the shifter society upper echelons, they spent their fortunes and time to help kids in trouble. Edoardo and Ludovico were probably the only non-renegades Raphael admired. And Quintilius. But he could never go back to the alpha, and by now Iris had already informed the alpha that Raphael hadn’t showed up for work.

Red and white striped umbrellas covered vendor carts from the relentless sun, and Raphael used the shadows they cast to take refuge from the afternoon heat. Colors and scents assailed his senses, and so did the memories.

When he was a young cub, his father brought him to Termini Station every Sunday. Usually, Raphael was left to entertain himself by the spice vendors, while his father worked on one of his cons. Those schemes of his were seldom successful, and, afterward, his father would be in a bad mood for days. Drinking helped his father forget about his latest failure, and by Saturday he would come up with the next big idea. Despite what happened after those weekly visits to the station, the spare hours Raphael spent there were his fondest childhood memories. A gift his father had inadvertently given him.

The hint of freshly ground turmeric was followed by basil and rosemary in his roaming along the carts and boots. Then the colors and scents changed and became hearty and rich in cardamom, cinnamon, fenugreek, and nutmeg. An African tune blasted from a broken speaker hanging by a cable from an umbrella stretcher.

From one of the larger stalls, a small man invited Raphael closer, then he gestured for him to consider his baked goods. “Couscous? Homemade with lamb.” He pointed to a different spot on the table. “Eggplants? Zighinì?”

Shaking his head, Raphael smiled at the man. “Not today.” He wished he could pause and savor a plate or two. The food was presented on brass trays with flower petals to separate each dish. The aroma emanating from the stall was wetting Raphael’s mouth, but the night would be on him soon if he didn’t get moving.

“Next time, yes?”

Raphael brought his hand to his chest and resumed his stroll. “Next time.”

Under the sun and the afternoon heat, Nimbus was heavy to pull along. Raphael’s eyes were watery, and he was sweating. Yet, he pushed himself and the bicycle out of the African section, and headed toward the Far East corner. The Street Angels used to frequent that portion of the Roman Kasbah—Raphael had renamed Termini Station thus after watching a documentary on Istanbul’s famous market, and noticed the similarities between the two places.

Not sure he would find them at their usual spot, between the mahjong players and the dumpling soup cart, Raphael looked among the crowd, hoping to see the spiky purple mane of Edoardo and Ludovico’s shaved head with a Roman Eagle tattoo. A werewolf and a were-puma, they liked to mingle with renegades and mortals better than with their own.

“Hey, little wolf!”

The call came from the right, where, from under a pagoda-shaped gazebo decorated with red paper lanterns, a raised hand was waving at Raphael who couldn’t help but breathe in relief. “Edoardo.” Raphael beelined toward the werewolf, passing among the thick crowd and entering the pagoda.

“Long time no see.” Edoardo rose from the bamboo stool he was sitting on cross-legged, and gave him a one-armed hug. “Glad you came to visit.” He showed him a second stool and sat back down.

“Where’s Ludovico?” Raphael couldn’t remember a single time when he had seen one but not the other. The two shifters were a couple, and they usually did everything together.

“Family day. I’m not welcome.” Sadness tinged Edoardo’s words.

“They’ll come around.” Raphael lowered himself to the stool, but couldn’t find a comfortable position.

“I’m not so sure anymore. We’ve been steady for two years now, and his family won’t relent.” Edoardo passed a hand over his stiff hair. The purple was highlighted by blue strands. The complicated hairdo and the colorful mane were all the rage among werewolf youth.

Poverty had dictated Raphael’s signature haircut and color, long and naturally light brown with sun-bleached blond streaks. Accustomed to it, he had kept his mane thus even when he had the money to go to the barber.

Raphael shifted his weight to the side, sitting on his bent leg. “Were-pumas are known to be on the racist side.” He checked the time on his cell phone, and noticed several calls from Quintilius’s office. Most assuredly Iris’s.

Edoardo snorted. “That’s an understatement. When his parents thought we were just friends, they barely tolerated my sight, always sniffing me down as if I stunk. They only admitted me in their house because of my father. But when we announced we were a couple, they told Ludovico no sons of theirs would ever mate with a wolf.”

“I can’t believe things like that still happen in this day and age.” Raphael stretched both his legs out and under one of the two coffee tables placed before the stools.

“It’s because they’re were-puma royalty, and think they’re better than the rest of the world. But enough of that—” The werewolf shrugged, then saw a cart with dim sum baskets rounding the pagoda and he waved at the vendor. Angling his head toward Raphael, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

Although he was worried about wasting precious time, and couldn’t help but take another look at his cell phone, Raphael automatically reached for his wallet in his jeans pocket.

“My treat.” With a smile, Edoardo raised a hand when Raphael didn’t put his wallet back. “I don’t like to eat alone, and I’m so glad you appeared, when I was just about to go and make a scene at their royal-pain-in-the ass’ mansion.” His eyes on the approaching food cart, he uncurled to his full height and stood by one of the wooden columns. “And you know, nothing screams ‘I love you’ like ruining your boyfriend’s cousin’s big fat were-mitzvah.”

From one of the many churches nearby, the joyous tolling of ancient bells announced the hour, and Raphael shuddered.

“I need to talk to you—” Raphael inwardly groaned. “And I’m afraid you won’t like the reason why I came.”

The vendor parked his cart laden with steamy bamboo containers by Edoardo. The wolf leaned over the carved wooden parapet, but asked Raphael, “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“I got myself in a bit of a situation.” Raphael watched as the vendor, shouting in Mandarin, removed lids and pointed at the food, while Edoardo ordered in the same language. The two seemed to argue over the content of one of the baskets, but the vendor vehemently shook his head, then shoved the container to the bottom of the stacked pile of steamers, and uncovered steamy buns instead.

“Okay. How can I help you?” Without missing a beat, the wolf talked to both Raphael and the man, switching back and forth between Italian and Mandarin. Meanwhile, he picked three different kinds of dumplings, sticky rice, congee he asked extra spicy—he translated for Raphael—buns but with no pork, and an array of sweet concoctions.

“Still vegetarian?” Raphael helped him place the food on the two coffee tables, and his stomach growled.

“Yes. ‘Being a wolf wasn’t enough, he also had to be one of those unnatural weirdoes!’ Her majesty the countess’s exact words.” As he grabbed one last basket, Edoardo swiped his card over the vendor’s cell phone. “But we were talking about you.” He gestured for Raphael to take his pick of the food.

Passing his hand over his jaw, where soft blond stubble had started growing in the last few months, Raphael sighed. “I’m desperate. I wouldn’t come to you and ask of this if I had a choice.” His eyes went to the rest of the Kasbah—the crowd was ticker, the air steamier, and the sun lower—then back to the wolf and shook his head. “Believe me, I really have nowhere else to go, but I need V.”

The dumpling Edoardo was bringing to his mouth fell into the basket and broke, revealing a filling of cilantro and spinach. “You need what?”

“A vial of V, by tonight.”

“You are not kidding.”

“I’m pledging to the Reds.”

“What?” Edoardo’s chopsticks followed the dumpling into the basket, his brows raised and his jaws dropped. “Why?”

“Luisa.” Without pausing, Raphael summarized the events of the last five months for the wolf.

Eyes wide, Edoardo shook his head at the end of Raphael’s tale. “What you’re doing is crazy. Luisa might not be there at all.”

“She must be.”

“Your friend could be wrong.”

“But everything coincides, names, dates—”

“Yes, but what if it is just that, a coincidence?”

“And what if this is the last chance I got to see her again?” Raphael’s wolf let out a sad cry. “She’s my mate.” Shoulders raised, he opened his hands to the side. “I can’t do nothing.”

“Okay.” Edoardo sighed. “V, you say.” He looked down at the baskets he had closed while Raphael talked. “Let me eat first, then I’ll call Ludovico, and we’ll come up with something.” Chopsticks at the ready, he removed the lid from the vegetable buns container and offered one to Raphael. “You should eat too. It’s going to be a long night.”

****

Edoardo and Ludovico were on the phone for half an hour. The plan they concocted sounded too vague to Raphael, but he couldn’t contribute anything better. His strategy would have involved prowling at night chasing weak vampires, incapacitating the hopefully-willing victim, milking their blood with a straw, and storing it in a resealable plastic bag. So he kept quiet.

Two hours later, they were waiting outside Ludovico’s house. Raphael’s nerves were strung high, and he paced back and forth on the gravel. His boots were coated in white-gray dust after a few minutes.

“Stop that.” Edoardo sat on his bike. He had asked Raphael to leave Nimbus at his garage by the station, then drove both of them to the Cantari’s estate on the Appian Road, the rich and famous green slice of heaven in the heart of Rome. “And stop that too.”

One hand on his cell phone he hadn’t even realized he was checking, again, Raphael swore.

“You’re cute when you curse in Latin.” Edoardo laughed and lazily stretched on the bike.

Raphael had no idea he had done so. Blinking, he diverted his thoughts away from Luisa, the Reds, stealing V, and how much he felt tainted by the whole idea. “How’s it living large like that?”

The wolf followed Raphael’s eyes staring at the big iron gate. Beyond the gate, a long straight path bordered by carved boxwoods led to a palace trimmed by porches, balconies, and arched windows. “Lots of privileges.” He hopped off the bike, and landed on his two feet firmly planted on the gravel. “A life so full of thrills it becomes dull the moment you realize how fake it is.”

Edoardo wasn’t royalty like Ludovico—an earl—but he was the son of the Argentinian werewolf ambassador. The two shifters had met at a ball thrown by Edoardo’s father when they were fifteen, and never separated. Raphael had met the duo when he was fourteen, and—as often was the case with him—in trouble. During one of his gathering trips, he had stolen from yet another vampire. The Street Angels stopped the undead from beating Raphael to a pulp. Unlike the first vampire he met and stole from, this one proved to be not a defenseless victim.

“I wish I could try that kind of dullness for a full day.” Hands on the intricate wrought-iron décor of the gate, Raphael brought his forehead to the metal to cool his thoughts. The evening was fast approaching, and he couldn’t shake the feeling they were wasting time out there.

“You’re free to fall in love with anyone you want. I wish I could try that for a change.” Following Raphael to the gate, Edoardo too placed his face between the iron bars carved to resemble rose stems. “He won’t be long, don’t worry.”

The rumble of a bike engine interrupted the late afternoon quiet, scaring a storm of birds out of the branches of one of the magnolia trees near the house. Ludovico’s blue Kawasaki sped through the path, raising gravel and dust in its wake, going faster and faster toward the closed gate.

Edoardo’s eyes lit and his lips curved up. “I’d move.”

A few meters away from the gate, the bike didn’t give any sign it would slow down. If anything, it gained speed.

“What is he—?”

With a laugh, Edoardo pulled away Raphael as the gate opened at the last moment, letting the bike through with mere millimeters to spare. As soon as he was outside his property, Ludovico hit the brakes, making the bike drift in a circle before them. Then he accompanied it to the ground and strode toward Edoardo, while removing his helmet in haste.

“I missed you.” Edoardo met Ludovico halfway and made to embrace him, then his eyes went briefly to the column on the right of the gate, where a camera had just moved. “They’re watching us.”

“Let them watch then.” Ludovico took Edoardo’s face in his gloved hands and lowered his mouth to Edoardo for a tender kiss.

Deciding they had enough audience already, Raphael averted his gaze to give the couple some privacy.

A moment later, Ludovico patted Raphael’s arm. “Lighten up, everything will be all right.” With a bright smile, he gave Raphael a wink. “Not exactly proud of what we’re about to do, but a girl’s safety depends on it, so I’ll get my hands dirty.”

“Thank you.” Raphael took Ludovico’s hand for a good shake. “I’ll repay you—”

“Don’t mention it.” Ludovico’s eyes went to Edoardo. “If he were in danger, I’d do anything for him.” One hand stretched toward the wolf, he grabbed Edoardo’s arm and pulled him closer to him. “Even steal V.”

“We better move. Your father has sent for you.” As Edoardo pointed at the end of the driveway, where two massively big men were running toward them, he stole another kiss from his boyfriend. “New bodyguards?”

With a long-drawn sigh, their foreheads connected, Ludovico nodded. “Long story. Meet Mr. Red and Mr. Blu. Ex-army.”

To the two men’s shouts of, “My lord!” the shifters mounted their bikes, and Raphael took his place behind Edoardo.

“Does his father usually send the cavalry after you?” After securing himself by circling Edoardo’s waist, Raphael looked over his shoulder. The earl’s employees stood by the gate and they were scary-looking.

Edoardo’s body tensed at first, then he hunched over the bike and laughed. “That’s a relatively new thing. He used to send Ludovico far away, but we always found each other, so he had to change his strategy. Those are the newest version of the terminators he has been hiring for the last month or so.” He revved the bike and dirt hit them.

The visor of his helmet still up, Raphael ate a mouthful of dust and spat it out. “Hopefully, he’ll come around for his son’s sake,” he croaked.

“I hope so. It means too much to Ludovico that I am accepted by his family.”

Ludovico cruised alongside them, and forty minutes later they reached Olgiata, the exclusive neighborhood favored by paranormal stardom.

Since Cinecittà, the Italian Hollywood, had opened his studios at the beginning of the last century, paranormals had taken by storm the movie industry. Charismatic, eclectic, and sensitive, those actors, directors, and truly anyone who worked around the big factory of dreams that was Cinecittà, were susceptible to live highs and lows as no one else in the paranormal community. Chasing fame and fortune forever, literally, made them the perfect candidates for depression, and it didn’t come as a surprise that they were the highest consumers of V.

Edoardo parked outside a three-story villa, bordered by cypresses trees and decked out for a party. A procession of people dressed to the nines walked along the entryway, leading to a majestic marble staircase.

The trio dismounted, and Ludovico opened his arm to the side. “Ready to party?”

“Where are we exactly?” Raphael had heard Edoardo’s part of his conversation with Ludovico, and he remembered the words movie star, gala, and old friends had come out several times. When he had asked the wolf for an explanation, Edoardo said Ludovico could enter any high society gathering, and those were the places where they could find V. “I thought we were talking about hunting down a pusher delivering in this area.”

“I was invited to attend Luciano Primotti’s new movie release celebration.” Ludovico messed up Raphael’s hair. “Relax.”

Raphael looked down at his dusty jeans, and at his white shirt stained with a day worth of riding through Rome. “I can’t even pass for the help. They won’t let me in.”

“You underestimate your friends’ social influence.” Ludovico headed toward the entrance of the villa.

“Don’t worry.” Edoardo walked past Raphael and motioned for him to follow.

At the white wrought-iron gate, a man, wearing a dark suite and holding a tablet and a stylus, checked off people as they passed through. When it was their turn, the man pointed down his nose at Raphael, but Ludovico announced, “Ludovico Cantari, with two guests.”

The man’s face showed his disconcert for the briefest of moments, then he forced a smile. “Good evening, my lord.” With a slight bow, he raised his hand to the side to let them in. “Please.”

Raphael felt judging eyes burning holes into his back as he headed toward the staircase, and walked faster.

Edoardo turned toward him. “Slow down. You’re a welcome guest.”

Raphael forced himself to do as Edoardo had suggested, but all his senses were on alert. Never in his life, he had visited a house like the one he was about to enter. “I had not realized how well-off you guys really are.” The insight made him look at them with different eyes. “I mean, I knew you were rich but—” Worried he would offend them, he raked his brain for the right words but they eluded him. “You never told me you were filthy rich—” He slammed a hand against his mouth.

“That’s because we aren’t particularly proud of it. It’s not that we did something to earn it.” Ludovico reached the first step of the staircase, and took Edoardo’s hand in his. “Let’s make a grand entrance, shall we?”

The couple entered the villa by a triple glass door that revealed the largest foyer Raphael had ever seen outside of a department store entrance. Inside, polished marbles, white columns, gilded mirrors, and Venetian glass chandeliers in pale blues framed the room.

Dizziness overtook Raphael. Too many scents, too much noise, and the heat that—despite the villa must have had a state of the art AC—was hell to endure. Plus, he remembered he hadn’t eaten much of the dim sum feast Edoardo had ordered.

As if reading his mind, or maybe Ludovico had heard Raphael’s stomach rumbling, the were-puma grabbed a whole tray from a waiter. “Eat before you pass out.” He picked a tramezzino from the plate and offered it to Raphael. “Ham and eggs. You’re a carnivore, right?”

“Yes, thanks.” The small triangular sandwich of soft, crust-less white bread tasted delicious. Raphael was amazed at the texture of the bread and at the delicacy of the ham. “Rich people food tastes better.” Avoiding the vegetarian selection that he left to the shifters, he devoured everything else on the tray.

Edoardo intercepted another waiter, and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water with one hand and three glass-blown chalices with the other. “Have some before you choke.”

Only when his stomach was full and he had gulped down several glasses, did Raphael realize how close he had been from fainting. But the clock was ticking. “Let’s find what we came for and get out of here.”

“Right on it.” Ludovico led them in and out of several adjacent rooms. He paused once or twice in his meandering to exchange greetings with people who asked after his family.

By the time they reached the internal garden, Edoardo was recognized as the Argentinian ambassador’s son and people approached him as well.

“Guys, I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t have time for socializing.” Even though the full moon was two weeks away, Raphael’s wolf paced inside his mind, demanding action, and he had a hard time keeping his beast calm. All the control he exercised in the morning had been eroded by exhaustion that was both physical and mental.

“Here they are,” Ludovico whispered, then canted his head and pointed at a group of younger guests milling around a fountain, and added, “You must trust us.” With his back straight and a slow gait, he strolled toward them. “Are you still good at pickpocketing?” he asked Raphael from over his shoulder.

“You betcha.” Raphael perked up and gave the group a better look. “Are they all were-pumas?”

Ludovico nodded. “High school buddies of mine.”

The sarcasm in the shifter’s voice was hard to miss. As it was the look of disdain one of the buddies gave Ludovico, which was followed by a series of arched eyebrows when the rest of the group turned to face them, moving in sequence like domino tiles.

“This is going to be good.” With a grin that lit all his face, Edoardo winked at Raphael. “Ready your nose and sharpen your reflexes, little wolf.”

A low, unfriendly murmur rose as they approached the fountain. Step by step, the tension grew to a palpable level, until Raphael could have stuck out his tongue and tasted the shifters’ hormones raising the hairs on his skin.

“Earl,” one of the were-pumas addressed Ludovico, but his eyes were on Edoardo.

Ludovico stopped before the puma, invading his personal space, and offered his hand. “How’s life, Carl?”

The puma’s face became red, and he dropped the hand he had raised to shake Ludovico’s. Not privy of were-royalties etiquette, Raphael watched the interaction but didn’t understand what was happening.

Ludovico’s smile didn’t falter. In fact, he showed more of his teeth. “Have you met my boyfriend?” Tilting his chin toward Edoardo, who was waiting a step behind, Ludovico invited him by his side. “Edoardo, those are the schoolmates I told you about.”

“What a fortunate coincidence to finally meet all of you.” Edoardo puffed his chest and took Ludovico’s hand in his. “I’ve waited a long time to stand before the royal brats who helped my Ludovico become the wonderful person he is.”

“How dare you!” Carl shouted, and the group moved at once, nostrils flaring and mouths snarling.

“Wolf lover.” A whisper at first, the insult was repeated and gained volume.

Yet, the couple remained untouched by the show of power from the united pack.

Edoardo turned toward Raphael and mouthed, “Now.”

Opening his senses, Raphael concentrated on the scents emanated from the pumas. Among the perfumes, the sweat, the smell of roast beef one of them had eaten earlier in the day, the acrid stench of racism, he found the sweet aroma of fresh V.

“You two make me sick.” Carl spat on Edoardo, and Ludovico punched him on the face, giving the official start to a fight that soon degenerated in vicious biting, kicking, and name calling.

As Ludovico and Edoardo seemed to have the time of the day splitting lips and knocking out teeth, Raphael concentrated in finding the vial of V before it was smashed.

His nose led him to the burliest of the group, a were-puma whose neck was as big as Raphael’s thigh. “Oh, come on.” Raphael approached the shifter from the back, trying to keep downwind and surprise him.

The puma turned at the last moment, and his eyes widened in disgust when he saw Raphael. “You—”

Whatever insult the puma had reserved for Raphael died in his mouth, when Raphael barreled into his chest. He feigned to the side before making contact, smashing his knee against the puma’s groin instead. This time, Raphael didn’t feel any remorse in playing dirty. His right hand slid under the big oaf’s expensive jacket, and with the softest of touches he removed the small vial without the puma being the wiser.

Leaving the were-puma on the ground, Raphael gave Edoardo the thumbs up and moved out of the way, heading toward the exit. A few minutes later, the couple joined him outside of the villa.

“Best night out ever.” Laughing, Edoardo patted Raphael, then, for once, he was the one checking the time. “Eight fifty-five. We better hurry or you’ll be late, Cinderella.”

Despite the adrenaline high, Raphael felt deflated. Inside the pocket of his shirt, he had just hidden a vial of vampire blood. Tainted poison he was about to barter for the chance to become a ruthless gang member. “Luisa, I love you,” he whispered as Edoardo recklessly drove through the streets of Rome.

Chapter Seven

At nine fifty-nine p.m., Mr. Wifebeater opened the door and looked down, his annoyed expression changing to disconcert the moment he saw the vial of V dangling from Raphael’s hand.

“As you ordered, sir.” Before the man could say a word, Raphael raised his cell phone with the screen facing the werewolf. “Right on time and with a full minute to spare.” He then pushed the drug into the werewolf’s hand. “Can I come in?”

“I’ll be damned.” Scratching his shaved head with his free hand, the shifter moved the vial to make the blood slosh from one end to the other. “I didn’t think you were going to show up again.”

“Told you I always deliver.” Raphael raised an eyebrow and pointed his chin at the spot behind the man’s shoulder. “So, what’s inside?”

The werewolf moved to the side and let him in. “What’s your name, scrawny thing?”

“Raphael.” He stepped inside a large room furnished like a billiard parlor. Couches and pool tables with pristine maroon cloths filled one side, while on the other a full bar took up the whole length of the wall. The place was empty. “What’s yours?”

The werewolf exhaled a long breath. “Sir.”

Fatigue coupled with headache and general uneasiness made for the perfect recipe for disaster. Especially when Raphael needed to maintain that thin balance between flippant and arrogant. “What’s your name, sir?”

“You’re something else, aren’t you?” Mr. Wifebeater laughed. “You’re lucky I’ve a little brother who’s a smart ass like you.” He went behind the bar, took a tall, frosted mug from a stainless steel, double glass-door fridge, and served himself a beer. “Name’s Rock.” With a ruler he tapered the foam from the mug. “Are you old enough to drink?”

“Just turned eighteen.” In his wallet, Raphael kept a fake ID for when the need arose, but he didn’t have to prove he was of a legal age.

Rock—although the Red had changed into a jean shirt, Raphael still thought the name Mr. Wifebeater was more appropriate for the werewolf—filled a second mug for Raphael. “Why are you here?”

“I want to join the Reds.” The beer was a pale ale, cold and refreshing. After a few gulps, Raphael put the mug back down.

The werewolf wasn’t drinking either, his dark eyes were on Raphael, a serious expression on his face as he drummed his fingers against his mug. “Why?”

“I’ve been living by myself since I was twelve, and I want to belong.” Two truths that made a big lie. Raphael brought the mug back to his lips.

“Okay.” Mug raised in salute, Rock tilted his head to the side. “Tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to Tancredi.”

Raphael choked and sputtered.

Rock slapped Raphael’s back, making him cough beer from his nose. “Don’t get too excited. The alpha might decide you aren’t prospect material.” Stretching his neck, he yawned. “Time for me to get upstairs. Make yourself at home.” With a sweeping motion, he indicated the couches, then headed toward one of the three doors opening into the room. He rapped on the stainless steel surface, and the door slid into the wall. “See ya.”

Raphael blinked, and the door closed before he could have a glance at what lay beyond.

The morning after, Rock kicked him off of the couch where he had fitfully slept. “Tancredi will see you now.”

Still groggy, Raphael blinked and looked up at the werewolf. “Where?”

“There.” Rock rolled his eyes and pointed at the rest of the room behind Raphael.

Feeling observed, Raphael turned, realized that a curtain had previously hidden an alcove, and saw they weren’t alone. “Sh—”

Inside the alcove, an elegant werewolf in his early thirties sat on a burgundy wingback chair, drinking an espresso from a delicate china set. Without saying a word, the man’s dark-blue eyes assessed Raphael. The thorough appraisal made him feel like he was something the man was about to buy. In Tancredi’s presence—the man wore a tailored dark-gray suit over a cerulean shirt and gray tie—anyone would have come short in comparison. Yet, with his wrinkled and dirty clothes and scuffed boots he had been wearing for twenty-four hours, Raphael straightened his back, and didn’t lower his eyes as he was expected to do before an alpha.

Not a smart move, but Raphael had no control over his visceral gut reactions. Years of beatings at the hands of his father had not taught him how to submit. Instead, any time he should have shown proper respect for the authority, he reacted defiantly. Raphael sensed Rock’s nervousness, and hoped he hadn’t ruined his only chance to get into the gang and see Luisa again. The silence protracted longer than necessary and became hard to bear.

Then, without any warning he was about to do so, Tancredi slammed the espresso cup on the saucer and laughed. A moment later, Rock guffawed too, while Raphael stood still. Maybe he shouldn’t have drunk that beer before going to sleep, but he felt nauseous, and the scene before him didn’t make any sense.

“I like the cub. He’s got spunk.” Tancredi pushed himself up and closed the distance between them, gave cup and saucer to Rock, then headed toward the same stainless steel door Rock had used the night before.

“Congratulations. You passed the interview.” Rock slapped Raphael’s head.

This time, when Tancredi knocked on the door, Raphael didn’t avert his yes. The metal surface slid into the wall as expected, and revealed a corridor. Two werewolves as big as Rock stood guard by it.

“What’s on the other side?” Squinting, Raphael asked Rock.

“You’ll know when you pass your trial period and become a true prospect.” Rock grabbed Raphael by his elbow and made him march toward the restrooms. “Scrub yourself clean. I’ll fix some breakfast for you.”

The night before, when Raphael had used the loo, he had wondered why the restrooms were fully equipped with showers, Jacuzzi, sauna, and even a steam room. “I won’t leave this floor until I’m a prospect?”

“You’re nothing but clever, aren’t you?” Rock was behind the bar that also doubled as a kitchen with a full stove at the end attached to the wall. While cutting slices of apples, he looked at Raphael from under his lashes. “A word of advice, being a smartass gets old very fast around here.”

“No smartassery allowed on the premises. Noted.” Raphael mimed the act of writing. “Where do I sleep?”

“Bedrooms.” The Red pointed the tip of the knife at the remaining third door. “No more questions or you’re out of here.”

****

For the next two and a half months, Raphael risked his life more than once to prove he deserved to wear the prospect leather jacket with the red “P” patched on the front. Once, while in a drunken stupor, Rock spoke of the girls living on the fourth floor harem, and told Raphael he would see them the night of his initiation. Although, deep in his heart, Raphael knew Luisa was close, he redoubled his efforts to get accepted into the Reds.

Meanwhile, other werewolves shared the billiard room with Raphael. Some of them prospects in training like him, others Reds who had drawn the short stick and were assigned to check on the recruits. Rock, who was the household and security manager, swung by several times a day to supervise all of them.

After that first encounter with the alpha, Raphael didn’t have further interactions with Tancredi. It was as if the man had forgotten Raphael even existed. For which, he was grateful. The Reds’ alpha was mercurial. One day the sky was blue and Tancredi was satisfied with the recruits’ performance on the streets. The next, he would invoke hell and brim fire on all of them.

Soon, Raphael realized how lucky he had been to meet Tancredi on the alpha’s good day. Compared to what happened in the following months, the morning he first saw the werewolf the man had been positively euphoric. Three recruits didn’t pass the alpha’s interview, and were thrown out into the street with several broken bones.

As it had happened to Raphael time and again in the past, he slipped into survival mode and kept by himself, exchanging as few words as he could with the rest of the dwindling crew, and doing what was asked of him to the best of his abilities. Every morning, he would get a list of locations and a load of boxes. The locations changed from day to day, then were repeated weekly in the same order. Instead, the boxes remained the same in both size and shape, resembling those containers used by hospitals to transport organs.

The job came with its hazards.

Once, a biker tried to pull Raphael over and steal the box he had secured on the rear of his Nimbus. Raphael escaped with his life and the box both intact, only because he knew every alley and backstreet in Rome. As the biker revved his Yamaha to pass Raphael and cut him, Raphael threw himself into the passageway between two buildings. The space was too narrow, and the huge bike didn’t fit. From there, Raphael sought the closest entrance to the Promenade.

Another time, a rival gang caught Raphael unaware in their territory. Again, his familiarity with the Eternal City saved him from being lynched.

One fall morning, his docket looked different. Instead of the usual number of deliveries, there was only one address—Olgiata zip code—no box, and a set of instructions. By now, Raphael was used to the Red policy of don’t ask don’t tell, and, without a comment, he checked the location on his phone to calculate the best route. As he entered the posh neighborhood, he realized why the address had sounded vaguely familiar. Primotti’s villa loomed ahead.

A sense of foreboding made him shiver, but he kept pedaling. He was close to being admitted into the House, the apartments on the second, third, and fourth floor where Red life happened. Too close to Luisa to stop now.

Before the villa’s gate, Raphael hesitated, read the instruction one more time, then pressed the button on the column.

The electric buzz grated on his frail nerves. “Who’s it?”

“Reds.”

A clang announced the wrought iron gate was about to open, then one side swung on its hinges and moved forward. Pushing the Nimbus ahead, Raphael ambled through the pathway and left the bicycle by the staircase. He knocked on the imposing dark wooden door, and waited for several minutes. When he was about to step down, the door opened, and Raphael swore at the sight of a familiar shifter.

“You—” The were-puma staring back at Raphael was the same he had relieved from the vial of V last time he was there. “I’ll kill you,” he said while barreling toward Raphael.

Raphael sidestepped and avoided to be hit by the angry freight train. If possible, the shifter had gained more weight and height. Counting on the fact that he was lighter and hopefully faster, Raphael danced on his feet, feinting and ducking, trying to reach ground level and his bicycle.

“You cost me a fortune, and my father thrashed me that night for the brawl at his party.”

With his notorious bad luck, Raphael should have known he had stolen from Primotti’s son. “I’m sorry—”

The upper jab caught Raphael unprepared and hit him squarely on his right jaw, sending him careening down the marble stairs. Closer to his Nimbus, but still far away from escaping. Kicks and punches rained down on him. The shifter didn’t give him respite, but pummeled Raphael with increasing strength.

Sweat from the were-puma mixed with Raphael’s blood, as the shifter cursed and blathered things like, “I’m enjoying so much beating the crap out of you,” and, “Too bad none of my friends are here to film me. It would be so much fun watching you die again.”

On the verge of passing out, Raphael realized the shifter was high on V, and for the first time in years he feared for his life. In a desperate attempt to make the guy reason, Raphael raised his hand before him. “I am with the Reds—”

Eyes unfocused, the were-puma lowered his reinforced boot over Raphael’s arm and pushed it down. Instead of landing flat on the marble, the arm remained suspended over the hard edges of two steps. Pain exploded behind Raphael’s eyes when the boot crashed against his arm and pushed it all the way against the back of the step, breaking bones.

Next thing Raphael knew, the shifter was throwing the Nimbus at him.

“What’s happening here?”

The voice reached Raphael in a haze of red and screams, his.

“What are you doing, Paolo?” An older man wearing a majordomo livery entered Raphael’s line of sight.

“Mind your business.” The shifter, Paolo, swatted at the majordomo.

“Very well, I’ll call Mr. Primotti. But you know he doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s on set.” The older man made to leave.

“No need to call my father.” Paolo released the Nimbus to the ground.

“Who’s your friend?” The majordomo gave Raphael a brief look, before turning to face the shifter.

“I’m with the Reds,” Raphael whispered, gurgling out blood from his mouth.

“What did he say?” The majordomo leaned over Raphael.

“Nothing—” Paolo drew back and placed a hand on the man’s elbow, as if to convince him to step away from the scene.

“You invited someone from the Reds to your father’s house. Are you insane?”

“I owe them money—”

“And you thought beating one of them would help you how?”

“I didn’t think—”

“You rarely do.”

“This guy, he deserved it. He’s the reason why father’s so angry with me.”

“This time you went too far. There’ll be consequences.” Pushing away Paolo’s hand, the majordomo retrieved a cell phone from his jacket front pocket.

“No! I’ll take care of this. Don’t call my father. I beg you.” The were-puma fell to his knees. “He’ll kill me for sure this time.”

Raphael didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. He passed out from the pain, and remained in a state of semi-consciousness, as the majordomo and Paolo carted him around Rome. For a moment, he thought he was in an infirmary. When he finally opened his eyes and the world didn’t rotate on its axis, he saw that his broken arm was covered with a cast and he was back in his bedroom at the Reds’.

Rock was staring down at him with a big smile. “You made it.”

“Barely.” Thirst parched his lips, and he raised his hand to shield his eyes from the overhead light.

“Tonight, Tancredi will throw a party for you. You got in.” To Raphael’s silence, Rock added, “You’ll get your letter. Probably the first recruit to become prospect so fast. Aren’t you happy?”

Heart galloping in his chest and images of Luisa playing in his mind, Raphael nodded.

“Primotti’s son paid five times what he owed us. Tancredi called his father—”

“Why did he do that?”

“Because even though you aren’t a Red, yet, you were there on Red business. And no one hurts one of us. There are consequences.” Rock patted Raphael’s cast. “Thanks to you, now the Reds have a prime seat in Cinecittà. Uncharted territory.”

Throbbing pain flared up all over his body, and Raphael tried to sit up, banging the cast against the wall beside his bed. “Glad I could be of service.”

“Oh, you’ll be glad, cub.” Rock smirked. “You’ll see tonight.”

Chapter Eight

The rest of the afternoon went by in a haze for Raphael. His mind was on Luisa. The idea they would reunite at last numbed him to a barely functional stupor. Reds came by to his room to congratulate him, even people Raphael had never seen before, but eventually the crowd dispersed and he was left alone with Rock.

“You’ll take the ceremonial jacket from your older brother and you’ll present it to Father—”

Rock had been talking for the last half an hour, only pausing to ask Raphael if he understood one aspect or another of the Red protocol. Each time, Raphael nodded without knowing to what he was consenting. This time, something clicked in his addled brain when he put together bits and pieces of what little he had heard with Rock’s last statement. “I’ll take the jacket from my older brother…”

“Yes, the one you’ll have just elected.” To that, Rock’s eyes lit. “And you’ll present the jacket to Tancredi, who will give you the patch. Then one of the girls of the harem—you’ll get to pick one—will sew it for you.” With a sweeping motion of his hand, the werewolf encompassed the small bedroom. “Tonight, you’ll sleep upstairs.” He winked. “And not alone.” Pushing himself up from the chair he had been rocking the whole time he talked, Rock added, “Now, let’s make you presentable for Father.”

After a torturous shower with his cast arm enclosed in several layers of plastic bags, Raphael emerged from the stall battered but clean, and immediately covered himself with a cotton bathrobe. One glance at the fogged mirror confirmed he looked like he felt, bruised inside and out. Among many, one purple bruise stood out, covering the right side of his face from forehead to jaw.

From the doorway, Rock made a sound that could have been anything from pity to disgruntlement. “You look like crap.”

“I’ve been in worse shape.” With a shrug that caused him more discomfort, Raphael tightened the robe belt around his waist and walked out of the bathroom. “This nothing.”

Rock let him pass, then followed him back to his bedroom. “Shitty family?”

The werewolf’s question was simple and direct. Yet, it caused in Raphael an odd mixture of sadness and warmth. Very few people had ever shown an interest in knowing what had happened to him. When a kid, his body had been a billboard of the abuses he suffered, but no one had ever questioned his father. Those times when Raphael needed bones to be fixed, the nurses and doctors always believed the falling-down-the-stairs lie. Every single time. “Shitty father.”

“Got one of those too.” Rock opened his mouth as if he wanted to add something, then shook his head and smiled. “Doesn’t matter anymore. We’re family. Starting tonight, you’ll have a new father and an army of brothers.”

Helped by the werewolf, but making sure Rock would only see his front, Raphael donned a white cotton tunic that reached his knees. The garment was part of the ceremony, because in addition to the patched jacket he would also receive his first Red tattoo, a wolf on his chest.

When Rock offered Raphael a pink pill for the pain, saying, “It will make the needle more bearable since you’ve been beaten up enough for one day,” Raphael shook his head.

“I want to remember everything about tonight.” He didn’t do drugs, and even if he had he would have said no. Having waited so long to see Luisa again, he couldn’t bear the idea of not being lucid in her presence. Pain he would deal with. He had grown up learning how to dissociate his mind from it after all.

“You’ll be a proper Red in no time. I feel it.” Rock beamed at him. “Ready?”

“I am.” Robed and wearing nothing else but a pair of boxers and his combat boots, Raphael felt ridiculous but followed Rock to that metal door he had kept looking at for the last two months.

The ascent through the compound was anticlimactic. After so much anticipation, Raphael had expected to feel something profound when he left the billiard room and entered the House. Two guards were posted at the entry and congratulated him. The second and third floor were deserted. When Rock pushed him through the entryway to the fourth floor landing, Raphael’s senses went in overdrive with an orgy of smells, colors, and sounds.

A long hallway, brightly illuminated by chandeliers that looked like modern sculptures, was filled with werewolves standing by the walls, creating a long column of cheering Reds. Suspended from the high ceiling by thin chains, shining copper braziers rocked back and forth. The scent of burning jasmine was heavy in the air.

“Prospect, prospect, prospect—” the crowd repeated over and over again, until the last letter of one word attached to the beginning of the next and lost its meaning.

Rock took his place by the wall and sent Raphael ahead. At the other end of the hallway was an oversized, black and silver futuristic chair on a dais. On that modern representation of a throne sat Tancredi. To Raphael’s surprise, the man only wore a pair of jeans, showing the intricate arrays of tattoos covering every single centimeter of his muscular torso and arms. The designs composed of vividly sketched wolves, flowers, Latin letters and numerals, stopped just under his throat and before his wrists. As Raphael walked closer to the alpha, he also noticed the piercings to his nipples, nose, upper lip, and eyebrows.

Shivering, Raphael prompted his boots forward. He had thought the alpha scary when looking respectable and all his tattoos and piercings hidden from sight, but now he was terrified by Tancredi. Especially because the alpha looked like calm personified, and Raphael had grown to be afraid of Tancredi’s quieter states. In his short experience as a recruit, those were the harbingers of one of the alpha’s bouts of violence. Plus, Tancredi all decked out for the evening looked like one of those ancient representations of the devil.

“Sons—” The alpha’s voice boomed as if projected by a microphone, but there was none to be seen. “Raphael will join our brotherhood tonight.”

The loudest cheers yet were accompanied by stomping feet. Despite Raphael only wore the thin tunic, rivulets of sweat matted the fabric with darker patches.

“Sons, say your names for Raphael to elect his older brother.” Silence was restored, then Tancredi made sign for Raphael to approach the dais. “And you, Raphael, choose wisely. Brotherhood among the Reds is stronger than blood.”

As asked by the alpha, Raphael stood by his right and studied the crowd. Tancredi raised one heavily jeweled hand, and from the beginning of the hallway a werewolf stepped out, stated his name, bowed, then stepped back and left the stage for the next Red to repeat the same sequence of actions.

When it was Rock’s turn, Raphael’s heart lurched down to his stomach. The man puffed his chest and smiled when he presented himself, as if Raphael had already chosen him. The presentation part of the ceremony seemed to prolong forever after that. Finally, the Red Raphael was looking for—the man Carla had mentioned as the one owning Luisa—said his name loud and clear, Rico.

When the last werewolf in line bowed back, the lights in the hall changed color, from bright white to a more muted orange.

“Declare your choice.” Tancredi shifted in his throne, causing Raphael to turn and look at him. The alpha’s eyes were even colder than the first time Raphael had experienced their unwavering probing.

His throat closing, Raphael pushed the name out of his mouth. “Rico.”

Rock’s astonished and hurt expression was impossible to ignore, as it was the prolonged moment of silence that followed Raphael’s statement. Raphael wished he could explain his reasons to the werewolf, but it would never be possible.

“Rico, you may take your place to my left.” Even though Tancredi didn’t seem affected by Raphael’s decision, the tall werewolf with the long braid and partially shaved head looked perplexed and uncertainly walked toward them. The silence had become unnerving.

When Rico stepped on the dais, Rock gave a gentle shake of his head, then smiled to Raphael and started clapping. The crowd immediately followed.

“Time for your mark, prospect.” Tancredi opened his arm to the right, where a secondary hallway started. “Rico, is your duty to accompany him to the tattoo chamber.”

Rico groaned an answer and made sign for Raphael to move. They left the chanting crowd and entered the smaller corridor. Compared to the ceremony hall the space was dim and cold, and Raphael welcomed both.

“You made the right choice, pup.” Rico planted a beefy hand on Raphael’s shoulder, and propelled him forward. “Never understood why Tancredi patched Rock, he’s not Red material.”

The physical contact combined with the unflattering statement about Rock created an involuntary response in Raphael who recoiled.

Fortunately, the werewolf misunderstood Raphael’s reaction. “You’ll do fine on the chair. Don’t worry.” Rico extended his fisted hand toward Raphael, then opened it to reveal a purple sticker. “Three hours of ecstasy, guaranteed.”

Raphael forced a thank you out of his lips and refused.

With a scoff, Rico closed his fingers around the sticker. “Suit yourself. I only share the goodies with my most talented bitch.”

Seeing black, Raphael fought the urge to do something stupid like punching the guy, and hoped Rico would stop talking. His wish wasn’t granted, but they reached the end of the hall, and Rico opened a door on their right.

“In you go as a pup.” With a theatrical gesture, Rico showed Raphael a room with lights so low it took him a moment to see its interior.

Then his eyes adjusted, and he regretted it. At the center of the dark room stood a barber chair equipped with restraining cuffs for the head, arms, and legs. A man with the longest beard Raphael had ever seen sat on a stool by the chair.

“Make a man out of him, Guts.” Rico laughed.

“Come here, boy.” The bearded man, Guts, patted the barber chair.

Taking in various details as he entered the room, Raphael noticed none of the instruments he associated with the art of inking were present. In their stead, bowls with a viscous and pungent substance lined the surface of a small cart along with a metal stylus.

“Last chance to accept my offer.” Rico showed Raphael the sticker once again.

“I would accept if I were you.” Guts folded his arms over his chest.

Not so convinced anymore of his decision, Raphael still shook his head.

“No?” Guts raised an eyebrow, but gave him a small smile. “Sit then and let’s get going, I have a party to attend.”

Before Raphael knew what was happening, the two men forced him down to the chair, then immobilized him. Strapped, and with the only source of light in the room now pointing at him, for the second time that day he feared for his safety.

“Don’t struggle. It will only make the experience more unpleasant.” From one of the shadowy corners, Rico dragged a second stool closer to the barber chair.

“He’s right. Try to relax.” Guts reached for the cart.

With his head secured to the headrest, Raphael’s visual was impaired. He could only see what happened right in front of him, making the experience downright terrifying, and Guts hadn’t even started yet. When the man yanked open Raphael’s robe and his cold hands touched his chest, remnants of his breakfast came back to him.

“Breathe. Big gulps, in and out.” Guts’s words were accompanied by a pat that was meant to be reassuring, but it set Raphael’s nerves even more on edge. “We do things the right way here.”

Rico’s face appeared before Raphael. “Like the Romans did. Not that sissy stuff civilians think is inking.”

“Yes. I had to study the ancient texts to find the right solution for the vitriol paste.” Guts passed a wet sponge over Raphael’s chest as he recited, “Aetius, a six century Roman doctor, had the good sense to write down the Roman technique for tattooing. First, you wash the area with leek juice, you know, because you need an antiseptic.” He raised a cup to Raphael’s eyes. “But beforehand I must prepare the ink as Aetius explained, thankfully in detail.” He raised a large bowl this time. “The best tattooing ink combines the bark of Egyptian pine wood—” He shrugged. “On that one I had to improvise and find a good substitute. But don’t worry, through trial and error I discovered Mediterranean pine wood works fine.” He showed Raphael a handful of resinous bark. “Then you add corroded bronze, gall, and vitriol, and dilute the ink with more leek juice until you reach the proper texture.”

Breathing hard, Raphael shivered. “What are those? The gall? The vitriol? Never heard of them. I mean I know the word vitriol, but—”

“I’m glad you asked, because in my extensive research I found several possible meanings for the Roman word ‘gall.’ Again, through trial and error I decided gall was none other than the contents of the gallbladder. In other words, bile,” Guts said. “But fear not, I only use animal bile.”

“That’s good to know.” Raphael’s wolf showed his teeth, but Raphael ordered him to be quiet. That wasn’t the right moment to have a disagreement with his wolf about ethics.

“And vitriol is just plain old sulfuric acid. Very corrosive, hence the association between the corrosive and oily liquid and bitter criticism to which you were probably about to refer.”

“And you’re going to ink me with that?”

Rico snorted and made a clucking sound. “Chicken.”

“Of course,” with a raised eyebrow, Guts said, “Like the Romans did.” He adjusted the angle of the lighting fixture to illuminate Raphael’s chest only. Finally, he brought forth the stylus, which up close resembled a long needle. “I’ll prick the design into your skin with this.” In case Raphael hadn’t made the connection, Guts pierced his skin.

Once was fine, but Raphael envisioned that singularly painful puncture repeated hundreds of times for hours.

“Interesting factoid, this needle is called a stigma, because tattoos were for bad people and soldiers, and if you’re a smart pup you can make the connection with the modern meaning of the word and this—” Guts waved the stigma before Raphael. “Anyway, I keep inking your chest until blood is drawn and the design is injected permanently under your skin.”

“Ready, pup?” Rico asked.

By now, fear had frozen Raphael’s ability to think. The acrid smell of the paste offended his nostrils, and his wolf was running in his mind trying to take control of the situation. An image of Luisa appeared behind his eyes, and much needed inner peace took hold of him. “Let’s do it. Like I said, I have a party to attend.”

For the next three hours, Raphael only knew agony. The stigma’s pointed end wasn’t as smooth as a needle at all, and every time it broke his skin felt like a laceration. The inking paste was, as he had envisioned, acid. To top it all, the leek juice Guts administered every few minutes on his tortured skin made every cut sting, sending shooting pain throughout his whole body.

The entire time, the two men talked about their latest conquests in brutal details. Raphael didn’t dare faint in case Luisa’s name would come up. Thankfully, it didn’t happen. What could he do about it anyway? Spit on Rico? Call him names in Latin? But if he owned her, why hadn’t he mentioned her once? Bleak despair possessed Raphael then, and he closed his eyes to will the tears away.

Finally, Guts raised the stigma from Raphael’s chest and didn’t lower it again. “We’re done.”

The sponge was wet and abrasive on his mangled skin, but Raphael was far away from that chair. In his mind, his wolf was running alongside Luisa’s in a meadow bathed by silvery light. They had been playing for a while and they were tired. Wolf nuzzled her flank and she plopped to the ground, nipping at him. With a joyous bark, Wolf pounced on her, his teeth grazing her back, when she rolled to her belly and showed him her throat.

“You’re a tough son of a bitch. I’ll give you that, pup.” Rico sounded close. “That’s lots of blood, isn’t it?”

“Yep, he bled quite a bit, but it’s also one of the few times I finish the design in one session, and he didn’t even take anything to dull the pain,” Guts answered.

Something dry, a towel maybe, was passed over Raphael’s chest.

“Only Tancredi is capable of that.” Guts’s voice had a tinge of awe.

Loud steps resonated into the room. “Until now.”

“Alpha—”

The dry cloth was hastily removed from Raphael’s skin, and he opened his eyes to find three men staring down at him with different emotions showing on their faces. Rico’s eyes glinted with greed. Guts was satisfied by his work. Tancredi had the most disconcerting look, pride.

“I knew the moment I saw you that you were special.” Tancredi’s lips shaped up in a thin smile, his piercings caught the light from the overhead lamp and sparkled like diamonds.

“I finally got the little brother I deserved.” Rico placed a hand over Raphael’s shoulder.

“A handful is what you got,” Guts whispered as he untied the restraining cuffs, starting with Raphael’s head strap.

Tancredi stepped away from the chair and exited the cone of light. “Come, son. The final part of the ceremony awaits you.”

Rico reached down to help Raphael, but Raphael pushed himself up, without accepting the man’s hand. Swaggering, he followed the sound of Tancredi’s steps out of that horror chamber. Rico and Guts tailed after him, whispering.

Walking back to the main hall felt surreal to Raphael. Something was different about him. He couldn’t pinpoint what had changed, but the lights, the colors, the scents, all he sensed with a different spirit. As if his heart was encapsulated in an icy glove, he looked around and saw people smiling, laughing, congratulating him, but he wasn’t affected by their enthusiasm. Soon after he had started doubting Luisa was there, he stopped caring and welcomed the pain from the needle.

Tancredi talked to him, words of reassurance. Rico boasted about being his big brother. Guts recounted the feat. At every step, a detail was added to the tale, until the whole story reached epic proportions in the span of a few meters. Along the hallway, soon after Raphael met Rock’s gentle stare, Guts resumed his position by the wall, while Rico, parading as a peacock, strolled after Tancredi and Raphael on their journey toward the throne.

Once on the dais, the alpha raised one hand. Not that he needed the gesture to gain any attention. The crowd was riveted on the spot. Expectant eyes focused on the trio, as the Reds waited in religious silence for the alpha to talk.

“Sons of mine. Proud Reds. I present you one of us. Raphael, who knocked at our doors as an untrained civilian, became a prospect by entering the tattoo chamber, and emerged from it as a Red through and through.”

At first, Raphael didn’t understand the significance of Tancredi’s words. The rest of the hall remained still like a tableaux. Then, the crowd went crazy with applauses, cheers. Boots stomped so loud on the marble tiles, the whole floor shook. Pushed by overexcited hands, the braziers swung back and forth touching the walls and spilling ashes.

To the side, there was a commotion as two different jackets were passed among the Reds. One garment went down the line while the other reached Rico, who stepped out, waited for Tancredi to nod, then presented the jacket to Raphael, who in turn gave it to the alpha.

“May the Red Wolf be with you,” Tancredi intoned.

The crowd answered at the unison, “To the end of time.”

“Ever and ever.” The alpha placed a patch over the jacket. “You’ll make me proud,” he whispered just for Raphael. Then he brought both items to his lips and brushed jacket and patch separately. When he raised them for the crowd to see, another long applause exploded, and it was only stopped by Tancredi’s call for silence.

Finally, the alpha offered the jacket to Raphael once again, and Raphael saw the detached patch on top of it. The letter on it wasn’t a “P”, but a crimson red “R.”

“There’s a first for everything,” Tancredi said, then added in a lower voice, “Well, you’re the first after me, but it wouldn’t do to point that out.” He chuckled softly. “You are a Red now. Choose a girl for the night.” Tancredi pointed at his left, where a tall, carved wooden screen barred the entry to a second hallway.

Squinting, Raphael noticed shapes moving behind the screen. Then the panel was pushed aside by one of the Reds, and girls appeared from behind. Lots of them, their heads low and their hands before them as they silently walked before Tancredi in a long line.

A sudden burst of joy exploded in Raphael’s heart. Luisa was among them. He sensed her scent. His wolf felt her wolf and howled.

Tancredi laughed. “Saw something you like?”

Raphael hadn’t realized he had let Wolf out but nodded, his eyes scanning the procession of girls filling the hallway.

One by one, they walked by the dais. All scantily dressed, redheads, blondes, brunettes, short hair, long hair, tall, slim, curvaceous, pale, tanned, freckled, paraded for Raphael. Their hesitant steps, their lowered shoulders, the way they sought each other when they passed the throne and bundled up further away along the corridor, all betrayed their uneasiness.

Toward the end of the line—only a few girls were left behind the screen—one shaved head came into sight. Raphael’s heart, already galloping, sped up, leaving him breathless.

Breaking protocol, the girl, his Luisa who had changed so much, raised her chin to meet his stare. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. She was wearing nothing more than a thin slip that revealed too much, and she hugged herself.

“I want this one,” Raphael hurried to say, indicating Luisa.

“My skinny bitch?” Rico asked, and was immediately stared down by Tancredi. “It’s not customary to ask for a spoken girl—”

With a tilt of his head, the alpha shut Rico. “As it’s not customary to go from recruit to Red in one night.”

Visibly swallowing, Rico fisted his hands to the side. “Yes, but—”

“Are you gainsaying me, Rico?”

As if slapped, Rico bowed his head. “If you command it, he can have any one of my girls,” he amended with his eyes on Luisa, who paled. “She isn’t the best I can offer to my little brother. That’s all.”

“My new son has chosen. You—” Tancredi pointed one of his ringed fingers at Luisa. “Follow him to his bedroom, and be sure to please him.”

Escorted by Rico and a loud posse of brothers, Raphael and Luisa walked down to the third floor and his new quarters. After several unwanted suggestions on how to spend the night and put Luisa to good use, the other Reds left.

To Raphael’s utter dislike, Rico lingered. “You could’ve anyone you wanted tonight—”

Raphael didn’t let Rico finish. “See you tomorrow.”

Finally Rico moved out of the doorway, and Raphael closed and locked the door, then leaned against it. The moment he heard the werewolf’s steps dim farther away along the corridor, he slid to his knees and circled Luisa’s legs with his arms, making sure not to crush her with his cast.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

Chapter Nine

Tired as never before, Raphael inhaled her scent, drawing strength from her presence. “I’ve missed you so much it hurts.”

Luisa placed her hands on either side of his neck, and his eyes were drawn up to her face. Already small, during their estrangement the vibrant girl he had fallen in love with had become thin and emaciated. His heart aching, he took a moment to see through the superficial signs he had noticed at first.

Where once long, auburn tresses had cascaded down her shoulders, now her hair stood unevenly chopped to her scalp. Her complexion was so pale it was clear she hadn’t seen the sun in a long while. Under his gaze, Luisa’s green eyes—now haunted and too big for her face—locked with his for a moment. Then she blinked, subtly shook her head and leaned away from him.

“Baby, oh baby—” His good arm traveling up to her waist, he pulled her back to him and hid his face against her stomach. “I’ve dreamed about this moment, us, for too long. Please, don’t push me away.” Brushing her hand with his lips, he whispered, “I need to touch you, fill my lungs with your scent, caress your ache away. I need to feel you and make sure you’re real.”

During the long hours at the office, when Iris drove him insane, or when he was alone in his apartment, and even when he was at the social center, Raphael had constantly thought of Luisa. He imagined hundreds of scenarios where they met again, and in all of them he called her baby and she leaned into his kisses.

Now, he was too overwhelmed by her presence. By the fresh cuts on the wrist he had just reverently kissed. By her badly shaven scalp. By the old bruises revealed by her skimpy slip. By the new ones. By how frail she felt in his arms. But most of all, he was overwhelmed by the aura of hopelessness radiating from her in tangible waves. Her pain hurt him.

“You’re here.” She sobbed and her tears rained down on him.

“I’m here.” Feeling the pull of her big eyes and her soft lips, he gently pulled her down with him and caressed her jaw. “Luisa—” He trembled as he lowered his mouth to hers for their first kiss.

When their lips touched, his heart slammed against his ribcage. He gently pressed against her bottom lip, caressing it with his, his tongue softly skimming the ridge of her teeth. She tilted her head and he lowered his hand to her shoulder, then to her back, pressing her to him. He tasted her mouth in slow, gentle strokes. Dizziness overcame him, and he breathed through her, not wanting to sever the connection through their bodies. Because he was giving her his heart and soul in that kiss and would never be whole again without her.

“Raphael—” She shivered and inched away from him, separating them, then burrowed closer into his embrace.

“I’m here, baby.” With the strength only desperation can give, he kissed her again, brushing her lips, then whispered, “I can’t live without you.” His cast arm impeded him from fully embracing her and he hated it. “I know it sounds impossible, because we’ve only met twice and for only a few minutes at a time, but it’s enough to me.” He brushed her nose. “I’ve fallen in love with you at fourteen, that first night when you saved me from the enforcer, and I already knew then you were my life mate.”

Shaking her head again, Luisa whispered against his mouth, “Raphael—”

With a long kiss, he silenced her then said, “Without a doubt, I know. My wolf knows.” He would never look at another girl the way he looked at her. His heart would never beat as fast for another girl as it did for Luisa. “I love you.”

“I never thought I would ever see you again.” She pushed away from him a second time, her big eyes studying his. “Why are you here?”

He lowered his forehead to hers, his breathing too ragged and his heart beating too fast. “I promised I would find you.”

She brought one hand to his cheek and caressed it. “You shouldn’t have. The Reds are horrible people. They’ll force you to do horrible things.” New tears stained her cheeks, and she turned to the side. “They’ll break you and change you and I’m not worth it.”

Unable to process all the emotions he felt at once, he washed away his anger at the world by letting himself cry. Then he took her mouth for a fierce kiss. “Never say that. I’d give my life for you. I’d do anything for you.” He pressed her to him tighter, his hand caressing her back in frantic motions, wanting to erase with his touch all the damage done to her. “I’ll find a way to free you from them.” He brought her wrists to his lips and brushed the cuts marring her skin, starting with the fresh ones that were already healing. Then he helped her up and saw all the blood covering her slip. “Luisa—”

Looking down, she gasped and brought both hands to her mouth. “What happened to you?”

Confused, he followed her eyes to the front of his tunic and saw he was the one bleeding, not her. As if all the events of the day had finally caught up with him, Raphael felt lightheaded and staggered toward the bed, built inside the alcove in the corner of the room.

Once he sat on the edge of the bed, she kneeled by him on the soft carpet. “Let me see.” She peeled his tunic open by slowly raising its lapels away. At the sight of his tattoo, she cried. “What did they do to you?”

“Roman initiation, apparently.” He tried to smile, but it was hard when the room spun around him.

“It takes several sessions to finish the wolf—” Eyes wide, she tightened her hold on his tunic lapels and her knuckles whitened. “Why did they force you to endure such torture?”

“Well, I didn’t know I had the option to cry uncle, so I just went along with it. No big deal.” With the last remnant of his strength, he put a finger under her chin and gently raised it until she was looking at him, and not at his chest. “I got a promotion out of it. Youngest Red or fastest to become one, either way I’m a tough one.”

She snorted and it sounded adorable coming from her. Then her expression darkened. “That day, I went back to Mattatoio, hoping you would come—”

“The controller sent me to RYS, but when I got back to Rome I looked for you at the social center. I asked everyone, but nobody knew you or they didn’t want to talk to me. Then around two months ago, a friend of mine, Carla, told me about this girl named Luisa who had tried to escape from the Reds and had hidden at Mattatoio. Next morning, I came here and asked to join the gang.”

“I can’t believe you really looked for me.” Luisa’s eyes filled with tears again.

“Of course I did, you are my mate.” With his thumb, he wiped her face dry and tilted his head to give her a more convincing smile. “Don’t cry, baby. Everything’s turned out just fine.”

Laughing a nervous laugh, she pointed at his bleeding tattoo, at his cast, at all his bruises. “Does this look fine to you?”

He shrugged and tried to pull her closer to him with his hand, but she resisted so he said, “I’ll heal. Next moon, we’ll be both as good as new.” A lie, like the ones he told himself every night when he still lived with his father.

She smiled then and rested her head on his leg. “I’ve thought of you all the time. Because of you, I rebelled against Rico.” Her fingers played with the hem of his tunic. “I never wanted to be his.”

The macabre pattern of her own bruises and cuts gave Raphael chills, and he caressed her head feeling where the razor had shaved her hair too close to the scalp. “What did he do to you?” His wolf cried so loud he couldn’t silence him fast enough. “Sorry, Wolf wants out.”

“My wolf always acts crazy around yours.” Closing her eyes, she relaxed against him.

“What did Rico do to you?” Raphael repeated the question, adding nausea to the long list of nuisances fighting for supremacy at the moment.

“It’s all my family’s fault.” Shivering, she angled her head toward the wall.

“What do you mean?” Bile rose to Raphael’s throat.

“I was sold to the Reds when I was eight, and Tancredi left me alone until I turned fourteen, then he gave me to Rico—”

The room spun faster and he felt like he was on a rollercoaster. “Who sold you to the gang?”

“One of my older brothers. My parents died in an accident and we were put in foster care. I was the youngest of seven, the only girl and the one more likely to be adopted. I was valuable.” She then sat and faced him. “My brother Raul realized he could sell me to the highest bidder.”

“You don’t mean—” Raphael couldn’t say it.

“Not that way. Not then.” Luisa’s eyes unfocused for a moment, then she was back and her expression was cold. “Raul was already dealing drugs for the Reds and when he realized I was worth something, he bartered me for a year of V. Getting rich fast was high on his list of priorities. Being a decent person wasn’t on it at all.”

“Where is he now?” Raphael’s wolf projected his murderous thoughts loud and clear, taking control of Raphael’s emotion and making him crave blood.

“He was greedy but not smart enough and got himself killed because of V.”

His nausea abated a moment, and Raphael changed position so that he could remove the bloodied tunic.

“Let me.” She scooted closer to him and helped him out of the garment, then looked at his chest. “We should clean it.”

Raphael’s eyes went to the second door opening into the room. “That must be the bathroom.” Hoping not to faint, he pressed his good hand down and pushed his legs up, only to fall back to the bed with a loud thump of his cast hitting the wooden frame.

“Wait here.” She went to open the door and turned to nod at him. “I’ll go wet a towel.” The sound of water bursting from a faucet echoed from the bathroom, then Luisa reappeared a moment later with a wet cloth. Lowering herself by his side, she first brushed his lips, then she whispered, “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

He watched as she carefully washed his skin with slow, tender brushes, and couldn’t help a low moan.

“Am I hurting you?”

“Don’t stop.” Breathing hard, he took her hesitating hand and lowered it to his chest, right over his heart. “I need your touch.”

In silence, she cleaned him, running to the bathroom to rinse the blood from the towel several times, until it finally stayed white. Feeling he would burst if he didn’t have his original question answered, he steadied her hand with his and asked once again, “Did Rico ever—” but at the end he couldn’t make himself say the words.

Removing her hand from his hold, she hugged herself and looked down.

A mournful cry erupted from Raphael’s mouth. As he doubled over, lacerating pain hit his solar plexus. His wolf’s reaction was deafening, and Raphael let him roar until his lungs burnt.

Luisa’s small fingers slid through his hair, then she trailed small kisses over his eyes, nose, lips, chin, and throat. “I couldn’t stop him at first.” Her breath caressed his face. “I tried. I escaped, but he found me every time.”

Raphael wiped away the bitter tears falling down his cheeks. “When we met the first time in that apartment, were you on the run?”

“Yes, I was living under Angelo Bridge and I followed a nice couple home. For a few nights, I waited outside on the balcony for them to go to sleep. Then I let myself in, and spent time in the nursery they had prepared for their unborn kid. I pretended to be their daughter. I always left at dawn and erased any trace of my presence.”

“I’m sorry I ruined it for you.” Tilting his head, he managed a small smile for her.

“You are the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me.” She scooted closer, then leaned against the part of his chest that wasn’t tattooed and tucked her head under his chin.

With his good arm, he circled her back in soothing movement. “You’re everything to me. And I’ll kill Rico for hurting you.”

“I don’t want you to even get close to him.”

“Too late for that. I’ve chosen him as my big brother.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because he got you.”

“He’s going to hurt you.”

“I don’t care as long as I can stop him from ever hurting you again.”

“It’s okay now. Rico only beats me, he doesn’t—” Luisa brought her knees up and huddled herself in a tight ball.

With renewed anger, Raphael inwardly cursed at a universe where being hit by a savage bully was the preferable choice, but let her gather her thoughts and waited for her to talk.

“He doesn’t want me anymore.” A little sound, maybe a nervous laugh, escaped her mouth as she rocked herself. “I made myself ugly.”

“You could never be ugly.”

“Rico likes curvaceous girls with long hair and unblemished skin. I was already cutting myself, that’s something that started when I first came here—”

Maneuvering his cast arm around her balled form, Raphael gently coaxed Luisa to open up, then he dropped a kiss on her crown. “That will stop. You’ll never harm yourself again.” He nudged her nose with his. “And you’re beautiful. The most beautiful girl in the whole world. I’ve never seen eyes that color of yours. I’ve never tasted lips as soft. Your scent drives me crazy. Blindfolded, I could find you in a crowd of a thousand people.” His whispers made her shiver and he shivered too in response, his breathing became irregular and his heart thumped louder against his ribcage.

“I.” A kiss on the spot where her earlobe met the column of her throat.

“Love.” A feather-light brush on the hollow of her throat.

“All.” A caress on the small of her back.

“Of.” One-handedly, he grabbed the hem of her slip and torturously raised the bloodied garment over her head.

“You.” Had he not been already sitting, Raphael would have fallen to his knees before the sight of Luisa only wearing pink underwear. Her skin was smeared by his blood that had seeped through the flimsy material of the slip, yet she was still a vision.

Her arms flew to cover her chest as she sank into the mattress. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“You take my breath away.” Reaching out, he took hold of her hand and pulled her toward him.

“I’m bald.”

“The haircut looks good on you.” With a smile, he leaned against her forehead.

“I’m too thin.”

“I love you.” In a different occasion, soon, he would talk her into start eating again but not now. “I’m crazy about you.”

Lowering his mouth toward hers, he felt his wolf demanding to be acknowledged and his heartbeats sped up again. Wolf excitedly pranced around in a meadow, and Luisa’s beautiful chocolate she-wolf entered his line of vision. He howled his pleasure to the night sky, waking critters and bugs.

She.

Mine.

I.

Hers.

Forever.

Together.

Wolf’s thoughts echoed loud and clear inside Raphael’s mind, making him gasp as Luisa’s eyes widened.

“I can see your wolf,” she said.

“As I can see yours.” As Raphael mused on the meaning of that, Wolf pounced on the she-wolf, sending her sprawling onto the dewy grass. Growling, she playfully nipped at him.

A sudden frenzy possessed both Raphael and Luisa, and he accompanied her down to the mattress. One look at her reminded him of how small and frail she was and that he must be gentle. As he balanced his weight on his cast arm not to squash her under him, he lowered himself over her trembling body. All his body hurt, but he could only think of claiming Luisa as his soul mate.

“Raphael…” Luisa’s eyes mirrored the hunger consuming Raphael. “I love you.”

His heart stopped beating and his lungs stopped pumping air. Time paused. As he finally exhaled, reality became a blur.

“Together,” he said.

“Forever,” she said.

“Only you and me in the universe.” Covering her like a blanket, he let their bodies touch and pushed away the pain from his chest, from his broken arm, from all the blows received in the morning. Nothing mattered. Only Luisa.

“Only you and me in the universe,” she repeated, tears in her eyes and lips half-open.

His mouth took possession of hers, and a kiss that started sweet soon transformed into something all-encompassing. “I need you.”

“I want you.” She started pulling down the strings of her bra, revealing more bruises as the fabric fell to the side. A bluish handprint covered the top of her breast. When she saw him staring at the spot, she stopped and brought her hand up to cover the mark. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s fresh,” he croaked.

“This morning, Rico didn’t like I was wearing a big sweater over the slip and tore it out.” With a wave of her hand, she tried to dismiss the argument.

Anger possessed Raphael once again. Coupling with powerlessness, the feeling made him stand and propelled him out of the bed. Only the anguished look on Luisa’s face had the power to stop him from exiting that room, looking for a fight with his big brother.

“I will kill him.” Panting, he repeatedly punched the door with his good hand. “No one hurts you.” His wolf roared. “No one touches you.” Rivulets of blood fell between his knuckles, but he drove his fist through the wooden surface again and again until it splintered. “No one even looks at you with the idea of harming you.” Nausea and pain overtook him, and he paused the pounding only to realize that slender arms were hugging his legs.

“Please, stop—” she whispered among sobs. “You’re scaring me.”

As if a bucket of icy water had been dumped on him, Raphael shivered and his rage dimmed. “I’m sorry.” The sight of Luisa crying at his feet sickened him as much as the bruises covering her body. “Don’t be scared of me, baby.” With a heavy sigh, he reached down to help her up, and blood trickled on her head and shoulders. Trying to clean his mess made it worse as he smeared it everywhere. “I can’t bear to see all those bruises on you—”

Eyes on the floor, she shied away from him. “I understand if I repulse you—”

A different kind of pain lacerated his already wounded heart. “Look at me.”

“It’s okay.”

After he took care of cleaning his hand by wiping it on his thigh, he placed a finger under her chin and raised her face until she had to look at him. Then he passed his thumb over her jaw. “You are my mate. The thought that someone laid a hand on you and hurt you drives me crazy with grief. It’s my job to protect you, and I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I should’ve found you earlier. I—”

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” Tilting her head she leaned against his hand and closed her eyes. “Just you and me. I don’t need anything else.”

At the end of his endurance for the day, Raphael pulled her closer with his cast arm and bumped her forehead with his. “Let’s clean you up from my gore, then we’ll rest a bit. What do you think?”

Silently, she took his hand in hers and walked toward the bathroom, there she entered the shower stall. “Are you coming?” she asked, gently pulling him in.

Raising his cast, he gave her a small smile and released her hand. “Another time.” The truth was, he feared he would make her his mate if they entered the shower together. When the time was right, he would help her escape for good. Then and only then, away from the tyranny of the Reds, and in a safe place, he would give her the fairy tale night she deserved. She would have the bed of roses and the sweet words. But not tonight. Not when she only knew violence.

Chapter Ten

The morning after, Raphael woke alone and with a start. Where Luisa should have been, rightfully beside him, he found an indent on the mattress that was still warm. His new leather jacket with the patch sewn on its front had been folded, and placed at the foot of the bed, along with a note scribbled on a piece of paper. Neat and feminine handwriting had penned a message that sped Raphael’s heartbeat to an instant gallop.

I love you. L.

Upset he had not heard her leave, he hurried to the door, only to be reminded he wasn’t wearing anything when he entered the hallway and someone joked, “Naked run is next month.” The whole floor had almost had a glimpse of his bare back.

Luisa saw it when he was sleeping.

With a low curse and a kick, he closed the door of his bedroom behind him, and searched the place for something to wear—his bloodied tunic had disappeared—and found his clothes had been stored in the built-in closet. Without bothering with a shirt, he grabbed a pair of pants and donned the jacket, inserting only his good arm. Keeping the garment in place over his other shoulder proved futile, and he maintained it there by gingerly crossing his good arm over his naked chest. The skin around the tattoo was puffed, red, and sore to the touch, and he felt feverish.

As soon as he was out of his room, other Reds stopped him to either congratulate him or ask about his night.

“Thanks.”

“Great.”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

Raphael absentmindedly answered all of them while striding toward the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” One of Tancredi’s guards looked down at Raphael when he tried to pass him on his way to the fourth floor landing.

“To the harem?” Raphael commanded his shoulders to relax.

“Looking for some morning sport with one of the girls, champion?” The man winked and slapped Raphael’s on his shoulder. “Have you not had enough already?”

With a shrug, Raphael said, “It’s never enough.”

“Aren’t you a stud?” Among laughter, the man picked a cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll call your big brother—”

“Rico? Why?”

“Rules, pup.”

Cold sweat trickled down Raphael’s back. “What rules?”

“A little brother only has access to the harem if his big brother chaperones him.” The guard gave him a soft smile as if he were talking to a child.

One hand raised, Raphael shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. Don’t disturb Rico.” He made a show to sniff his armpit. “I need a shower first in any case.” With his chest heaving and his stomach clenched in painful spasms, he about-faced and returned to his room.

There, in shocked stupor, he slid down to the floor and stared at the opposite wall for some time, before letting bitter tears wet his face. Despite having done everything in his power to be reunited with Luisa, she still was out of his reach. One floor up and a whole universe of rules away.

Loud and repeated knocks on the door roused Raphael from his misery.

“Little brother, you’ve work to do.” Rico’s voice was as obnoxious as his manners.

Another volley of knocks followed, and Raphael forced himself up, remembered to hide Luisa’s note at the last moment, then opened the door before the werewolf would tear it down.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Taking in Raphael’s disheveled appearance, Rico gave him a raised eyebrow. “You better pull yourself together.”

Raphael made a noncommittal sound in response.

“First day of training.” Rico stood to his full height, a good head taller than Raphael. “And you’re lucky because you’ll be sparring with me from now on.”

“I’ve got a broken arm.” Raphael raised his shoulder to put the cast at Rico’s chest level.

The werewolf swatted the cast away. “That’s nothing. You can still impart plenty of damage with your good one, your two legs, head, and teeth. You’ll see.” With his arm extended, Rico accompanied Raphael into the hallway. “Besides, you should be earning your stay, but Tancredi got a soft spot for you and said you should rest.” Jealousy was thick in his words.

“So, I’ll train instead.” Somehow, the idea wasn’t that appealing to Raphael, who couldn’t remember when he had eaten last and had a huge headache. He was also sweating one moment and shivering the next.

“You’ll train under the best, mind you.” With a rough hand placed on Raphael’s back, Rico pushed him forward, greeting people along the way.

At the stairway, the werewolf headed down passing the second and first floor landings, and continued to the first level underground where the gym was located. As a recruit, Raphael had not been granted permission to use the facility that was reserved only for patched members. But he had been ordered to clean after them, those few times his delivery schedule had left him a few hours to spare.

The gymnasium was big, squeaky clean, well-lit despite being windowless, and equipped with state of the art machines lining the walls. The ceiling was high enough to allow for a running strip, which jutted from the walls and followed the perimeter of the room. Rumor had it that sometimes Reds dared each other to run their bikes on the suspended walkaway. Raphael had also heard recruits talking about cage matches, and the presence of a large box-like cage made of metal bars and covered in metal mesh proved at least the second rumor to be real.

At the moment, the gym was quiet. Several people milled around, some of them exercising, others running, a few sparring by the corner. But the moment Rico and Raphael put foot on the hardwood floor, every head spun in their direction.

“Before we start, there’s only one rule you should know, don’t let your wolf fully out. That’s a big no, and you’re disqualified if you do. Only cowards let their wolves fight for them. Anything else, go for it… if you can,” Rico said, and Raphael had the feeling he had talked more for the people around them than for Raphael’s sake. As if Rico was acting the big brother for the audience.

“I’ll keep my wolf tucked in. Don’t you worry, I don’t need extra help to beat you.”

Raphael’s answer amused Rico who made a scene laughing until he doubled over.

Ambling toward the roped ring at the center, the Red nodded to the ones who greeted him. “I heard you were looking to blow some steam this morning.” He stretched his neck with loud cracks. “That small bitch didn’t satisfy you, ah?”

Fighting the urge to swing his cast and hit the werewolf on his face, Raphael stilled his arms by the side and counted to ten, but it didn’t work. Breathing in and out didn’t help either. Only thinking of Rico’s mouth smashed by several blows did the trick. “She did all right.”

With his head canted and a cold look in his eyes, Rico pointed at the ring. “Remove the jacket and let’s work up a sweat.”

If a moment earlier a few strands of conversations were still audible, after Rico’s invitation the room fell into an unsettling silence.

Refusing to remove his jacket, Raphael lowered his hand and left his tattoo uncovered. The leather garment stayed over his shoulders for the moment, but he knew he would have to let it go soon. He was aware that every set of eyes in the room was trained on him, on the wolf inked in blood and poison. A flush of heat reached his face, and he wiped his forehead.

Rico too couldn’t help a glance to Raphael’s fresh tattoo. His expression, already unpleasant, darkened, and he stepped backward until he touched the rope with his legs. “Why her?”

The non sequitur hit Raphael like a punch to his chest. Barely breathing, he didn’t dare lower his gaze and show fear to the Red, but he could recognize a threat when he heard one, and his thoughts went to Luisa. Where was she? Was she safe? Had Rico done something to her?

The temperature in the gym rose, leaving Raphael lightheaded. “I don’t know—” He closed his hand into a tight fist. “She looked easy.” Forcing out of his mouth those words left him nauseous, but he had to protect Luisa by denying how important she was to him.

Rico seemed to think about it, then nodded with another of his sickening smiles. “She does look easy, doesn’t she?” Without looking behind, but with his eyes never leaving Raphael, he cleared the rope one leg at a time. “Maybe she’s easy because she knows she’s ugly.” He removed his jacket and balanced it on the rope. Then he tugged his white shirt from his jeans, and doffed it by opening the buttons on his throat and wrists, and finally pulling it off his head. “When Tancredi gave her to me she was passable, but I tired of her soon enough. Too small, too slim, nothing interesting about her. I heard she stopped eating and started cutting herself when I didn’t want her anymore. Tragic really.”

Soul-consuming rage made Raphael sway, the urge to free his wolf and let him bite Rico’s jugular so overpowering he stepped inside the ring without thinking. The man’s throat called to him as ancient memories of his twelfth birthday resurfaced to haunt Raphael in vivid details.

“You worthless piece of shit. You won’t ever amount to anything in your life. You are pathetic.” Making sure to have the brass buckle loose at the end of the belt, his father raised the leather over his head, then swung his arm to hit Raphael.

Like he had done so many times before.

This time, Raphael’s fangs lowered and a low growl escaped his mouth. “No.” Uncurling from the fetal position he always ended up when his father beat him, he stood.

“What are you saying?” His father looked shocked, and that pleased Raphael immensely.

But it wasn’t enough.

A surge of power he had never experienced before filled Raphael. His wolf, who had only shown glimpses of himself now and then, overtook him, making him attack his father. In a blink, Raphael pushed his father away with such strength he broke the table behind him at the impact. The next moment, he found himself staring at the blood gushing out from under his father’s head.

“Are you okay, little brother?”

Rico’s face overlapped his father’s, his voice echoing in Raphael’s ears as he moved around the ring. “You look funny.”

Two Ricos danced before Raphael and he lunged toward the one on his left, only to fall flat on the mat. Voices sounded all around him, at the same time too loud and just a whisper, then the whole room spun around him.

“Take him to the infirmary,” someone ordered, not Rico.

Arms grabbed him, enhancing the pain engulfing his whole body with their rough handling.

A heartbeat later, the bearded face of Guts, the tattooist, appeared in his line of sight. “I’ll give you something to make you sleep, okay?” He then asked, “Didn’t you see he was shivering?”

“I thought he was tougher than that. He got the wolf in one setting after all,” Rico answered and that was all Raphael heard before blacking out.

When he woke in the infirmary, Raphael found a visitor. “Hi, Rock.”

“Hey, pup.” The man was sitting on a swiveling stool a few meters away from Raphael’s bed, and pushed it closer. “How do you feel?”

“Never better.” His good arm was pricked in two points by needles connected to two bags hanging from a trestle jutting from the wall.

Rock scoffed. “Drop the act, will you?”

“I feel like crap, happy now?” In answering, he moved around, and his cast arm hit the bed rail with a clang sound that reverberated inside his skull.

“As you should. When they brought you here, you were running a fever so high you convulsed. Guts pumped you with painkillers and antibiotics.” Rock folded his arms across his chest. “Guts and Rico should’ve known better than let you get the tattoo all at once. You probably had an allergic reaction to the vitriol. Or whatever.” He waved his hand before him. “In any case, the stress alone from the kind of day you had yesterday would’ve been enough to knock down a much stronger guy than you.” With a raised brow and a smile, he let out a chuckle. “You’re one tough pup.”

“So I’ve been told.” Wanting nothing more than to ask about Luisa, Raphael turned to the side and away from Rock.

Rock swiveled even closer and placed a hand over Raphael’s shoulder. “I don’t know what your game is, but you must be careful, pup.”

Raphael’s comeback was immediate. “Got no game.” Depressing as it was, he had told the truth.

“Still. Rico is not someone you want to trifle with.” Rock squeezed his hand for a moment, then released his hold, pushed the stool away and stood. “I’ll come back later to check on you.”

Chapter Eleven

Once released from the infirmary, for several days Raphael saw less of Rico—who was busy with some vampire business—and more of the rest of the Reds.

Although grateful for the respite—he hated Rico’s guts and his mere presence set Raphael on edge—at the same time, not knowing what the man was up to worried him. Every moment he wasn’t with Rico, the werewolf could be with Luisa. That possibility alone terrified Raphael. The only pleasant note were Rock’s visits. As promised, the burly Red kept swinging by daily, and more than once Raphael felt like confiding in him, but squashed the impulse fearing it would put Luisa in danger.

A whole week passed by with no news about her.

Days filled with menial tasks around the compound—Tancredi’s orders—didn’t alleviate Raphael’s worries. If anything, the reduced workload, consisting mostly in cleaning porn from laptops, drove him crazy. Too much time to think and long sleepless nights made him come up with all possible scenarios of what was happening to Luisa. At least once a day, but more often three or four times, he tried to sneak past the guards standing vigilant on the fourth floor landing. Soon, sending Raphael away became a fun game for the guards who didn’t take him seriously.

His free time was spent roaming around the portions of the building open to him. Finally allowed in the basement under the gym level, he once found Rock on his way to the security room.

“Do you mind if I ride along?” he asked when the Red didn’t slow down.

“I mind because you’re a pain in the butt, but I’d rather have you under my sight than let you wander alone. Don’t touch anything.” Despite the grumpy statement, Rock let Raphael inside both the server room and the monitor room. After he greeted the security crew, he explained to him, “Thanks to the cameras and the alarms placed around the whole compound, breaching in from the outside is virtually impossible.”

On the wall there was a floorplan of the building, and Rock pointed at the dots indicating the position of the cameras. While Raphael was listening to the Red, he saw some movement on one of the monitors. A moment later, an alarm went off and all eyes converged to the monitor Raphael was looking at.

A bright light illuminated a spot on the video a second or two later, and one of the security guys laughed and shook his head. “Just a kitten.” He pointed at the small shape climbing the black spiral staircase hugging one side of the building. “The other day, a pigeon set the alarm off, and we had to go and remove the damn bird from one of the cornices.”

“State of the art, ah?” Taking everything in, Raphael tried to store in his mind as much information as he could.

“But no one in the last fifty or sixty years has ever tried to get in,” Rock finished at the end of the tour.

Once they exited the security room, the door was locked behind them and Rock escorted Raphael back to the third floor. “Find something useful to fill your time.”

“Let me in the harem.” Raphael gave Rock his best puppy eyes.

Rock opened his arms to the side and shook his head. “Will you ever learn?”

“It was worth a try.”

****

One night, after another day of installing antiviruses, Raphael was battling his insomnia by contemplating ways to get in contact with Luisa. Suddenly, small steps echoed in the hallway outside his bedroom. A long moment passed, then a shadow darkened the crack under the door, and a folded piece of paper was pushed into the room. He was at the door a heartbeat later but only managed to catch a glimpse of long blond hair, rounding the corner and disappearing from sight. With shaking hands, he bent to retrieve the paper, but had the presence of mind to close the door behind him before reading the message.

I’m on laundry duty. L.

Luisa’s scent lingered on the note. After going so long without news of her, those few words written in her neat handwriting were like a balm to Raphael. He flattened the paper and put it under his pillow, together with her other letter. During the night, unable to relax, he read her two messages several times, bringing the papers to his lips and to his heart.

The next day, Raphael went straight to Rock and asked if he could switch to household duty.

Rock raised his eyes from a newspaper he was reading when Raphael entered his office. “Already bored of watching home-videos all day?”

“There’s such a thing as too much porn.”

“For a guy that tries to enter the harem every chance he gets, that doesn’t sound true.”

Raphael hooked his thumbs into the rear pockets of his jeans, and toed the desk with the square point of his boot. “Never liked theory. I’m more of a practice-makes-perfect kind of guy.”

With a roll of his eyes, Rock waved his hand toward the hallway. “Go ahead, no one is going to fight you for laundry duty.”

When Raphael had already cleared the door, Rock called him back. “You do know that you’ll be carrying hampers from the fourth floor to the first and back, all day long?”

“Need the exercise.” Before the man could see through his façade, Raphael sprinted ahead and announced to the fourth floor guards he had permission to enter their dominion.

“Don’t go near the harem,” one of the two Reds said with a smirk, after confirming with Rock that Raphael wasn’t trying to sneak in again.

“I won’t.”

“Laundry room that way.” The man pointed at yet another corridor departing from the hall, then added, “You know what, I’ll walk you there.”

“I have no intention to—” As he said the words, Raphael made a show to steal a furtive glance in the opposite direction where the harem was situated.

“Just in case.” The guard chuckled and patted him on his shoulder. “I was your age once.”

“If it makes you feel better.” Dragging his boots and slumping his shoulders, Raphael followed the man along the secondary hallway.

The guard led him into the laundry room and nodded at the Red sitting at a table, sorting papers. “Hi, Tiberio.” With his head tilted toward Raphael, he said, “He’s Raphael, the one on duty today.”

Tiberio anchored the papers down with a glass weight, then gave Raphael a look, his eyes lingering on the cast. “You’re late.”

From a swinging door, two girls entered the laundry room carrying between them a heavy wicker basket. Without thinking, Raphael walked to them and one-armed relieved them of the weight. Giggles and whispers followed his act.

With a disapproving look, Tiberio sent the girls scurrying to the other section of the room where they went to work on the ironing boards, then directed his focus on Raphael. “No funny business here, pup.”

“Be careful with this one.” The guard left with a last laugh.

“Where do I start?” Looking around, Raphael noticed that one of the two girls was staring at him. When she moved, her long blond hair fanned all around her shoulders, reminding him of the previous night’s events.

“Go downstairs and collect the recruits’ laundry. There—” Tiberio pointed at a basket full of fabric bags. “Sort the dirty clothes by colors first.”

“Okay.” Without diverting his eyes from the blonde, Raphael walked to the basket and grabbed a handful of bags.

Feminine voices came from beyond the swiveling door, and, from the oval window, Raphael had a glimpse of a large room where several girls were folding clothes over high tables. Hoping for a clearer view, he set out in that direction but Tiberio called him back.

“Scoot.” Annoyed, the Red waved him away, and Raphael complied before giving the man reasons to reallocate him somewhere else.

The whole morning passed, and Raphael made several trips to the fourth floor to deposit loads of laundry, but he never had a chance to get close to the inner room. Nor he had a glimpse of Luisa. After a short pause to the cafeteria where he ate a light lunch, he went back to work, hoping for better luck.

After a fruitless morning, the afternoon didn’t bring anything but disappointment to Raphael. Tiberio never left his place behind that table, and the two girls who had been ironing weren’t there anymore when Raphael came back from his break.

Feeling cranky after yet another call from the first floor, he threw a laundry bag full of socks and underwear on the counter by Tiberio’s table, and gave the man a dirty look. “What about investing in an elevator? Is it too much to ask in a four-story building? Plus two underground?”

“We got one at the end of the hallway, but it’s only for the big brothers.” Tiberio’s sleek smile was too much to bear, and Raphael stomped out of the laundry before he would say something highly inappropriate.

Four more tedious hours of climbing and descending stairs passed, and the muscles in Raphael’s legs burned, while his cast arm felt like lead, dragging him down. Close to dinner time, his stomach started aching too, adding to his general suffering. When he entered the laundry room with the intention to tell Tiberio where he could put the next load of dirty clothes, the blonde from the morning was talking to the Red.

“Here you are.” Tiberio seemed relieved to see him, and that set Raphael on edge.

“I’m done—” he started, but the girl’s eyes locked on his and she subtly tilted her head toward the swinging door. “What do you want now?”

“They need help out on the terrace.” Absentmindedly, Tiberio caressed his stomach betraying his motives for giving Raphael one more task.

“It’s late. I’m sure whatever it is they need help with can wait.” Raphael saw the girl’s worried expression, but Tiberio faced him and he couldn’t do anything to reassure her.

Tiberio’s eyes went to the clock on the wall, then back to Raphael with a sneer. “You go help them or I’ll make your laundry duty a living hell, starting now.”

Raphael shrugged and stepped around Tiberio’s table, walking toward the girl. “No need to be nasty about it.”

“That’s a good pup.” Tiberio exited the laundry, but a moment later came back to add, “And don’t forget to keep the door ajar or you’ll close yourself out.”

Once Tiberio was gone for good, the girl pushed the swiveling door open. “Come. Hurry.”

“What’s happening?” Raphael followed her into the empty backroom.

“Hurry. Someone could see me—” the girl threw over her shoulder, heading toward a metal door. Without waiting for him, she lowered the handles and sprinted outside to the terrace.

“See you doing what?” One hand on the door frame, he looked around.

“Stop the door with the brick,” the girl ordered.

Looking down, Raphael found the brick and pushed it against the door so that it wouldn’t close all the way through. Then he gave the terrace a good look.

Had he not been tired, hungry, and confused, Raphael would have appreciated the sight. Half of the terrace resembled a garden with plants, trees, and corners furnished with patio sets and striped umbrellas. The other half of the terrace was occupied by a big greenhouse. Modern and sleek, the glass and metal structure stood three stories high.

Running, the blonde reached the entry to the greenhouse, and only then looked back for him, waving for him to reach her. “Come!”

The command was laced with worry, and Raphael obeyed, jogging toward her, even though his legs didn’t want to cooperate and he would have crawled instead.

“Stay no longer than ten minutes. I’ll be hanging sheets on the drying rack.” She opened the greenhouse and pushed him inside.

The sound of the glass door sliding back was dimmed by the greenery, filling the place in rows of terracotta pots. With the corner of his eye, Raphael saw something moving, nothing more than a flash of pink.

“I’m here.”

Luisa’s scent hit his nostrils, and he found himself running to the other end of the greenery where she stood, semi hidden by the large branches of a ficus tree, her arms outstretched to welcome him.

“Baby—” As soon as they embraced, he sought her lips for a frantic kiss. Pushing her toward the braided trunk, and mindful of his cast, he circled her back and pressed her closer to him. “Are you okay?” As it always happened when he was in her presence, his heart beat violently against his ribcage and his breath became erratic, making him dizzy. When she didn’t answer him, he leaned away to look into her eyes and placed a finger under her chin. “Has he hurt you?”

A shake of her head and a small smile were her answer, as tears stained her face.

“If he’s touched you again, I swear on the Great Wolf I’ll kill him. I’ll rip him apart.” Sighing, he took her small hands in his and brought them to his lips. “Please, tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay. Rico hasn’t looked at me at all.” Luisa burrowed closer into his embrace. “I missed you so much.”

“I swear I was about to start drilling holes into my bedroom ceiling to reach the fourth floor and kidnap you.” He said it as a joke, but he had thought about doing that and so much more.

His hand went to her waist, then tugged at the hem of her top, raising the fabric to feel her skin. Goosebumps appeared everywhere he touched her, and when he skimmed the side of her breast over the sport bra their breaths hitched at the same time.

“Raphael—” Her lips brushed the spot behind his ear, sending shivers all over him until he shook and lowered his head to the hollow of her throat, and his arms circled her in a crushing hug.

“I can’t breathe without you.”

“It feels like I’m drowning all the time.” Luisa’s hands went under his shirt and to his back to caress him in slow hesitant circles, her fingers tracing the web of scars with feather-light touches.

After spending a lifetime hiding the signs of his father’s cruelty from the rest of the world, with Luisa he didn’t feel the need. The shame that would have accompanied such discovery by anyone else wasn’t there. In its stead, relief. Luisa was his safe haven. The place where he could be himself.

“I want to hurt the one who did this to you.” Her hand pressed over the ridges of flesh where the belt had struck almost every night for years.

His father knew hitting a werewolf before his first change would mark him for life. Yet, not even fear of being discovered had stopped him.

“Took care of him, but thank you.” He raised his mouth to hers for a long kiss. Dazed by her scent all around him and her hands still brushing every scar on his back, he lost himself in the moment, his own hands memorizing the texture of her soft skin.

Without thinking, only feeling, he pushed her further into the shadow provided by the tree and raised her top over her head, trailing kisses all over her as he bared her skin. “I need you so much—”

“What the heck are you doing?” Rock’s voice boomed into the greenhouse and made them jump away from each other.

His heart throbbing in his throat and his chest heaving, Raphael spun around and placed himself in front of Luisa. Facing Rock with his chin high, he straightened his posture. “What do you want?”

Rock shook his head. “Pup, you’re so out of your depth, you don’t even know.” He pressed his fingers over his temples and let out a long, suffered sigh. “Leave before someone finds her with you.”

Rock spun on his boots before Raphael could say anything else. At the door, the werewolf met the blond girl running in, and asked in a hushed tone, “What were you thinking?”

Before the girl could say something, Rock raised one hand and exited the greenhouse with a parting, “Make sure she follows you inside.”

The blonde whispered something to Rock, then hurried toward Raphael and Luisa, who had stepped by his side, her tank top back in place.

Bypassing Raphael, the girl grabbed Luisa’s arm. “Let’s go before we get in more trouble than we already are.”

Raphael turned toward Luisa and took both her hands in his, dislodging the blonde’s hold on Luisa. “I’ll find a way to see you again soon.”

“I know you will.” Luisa stood on her tiptoes and brushed his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Raphael released her with a last kiss and watched as the blonde dragged Luisa away from him.

Chapter Twelve

As soon as he hurried back inside the building, Raphael went looking for Rock, but didn’t find the man anywhere and worried Rock had gone straight to Rico. That night, he waited for his big brother to knock down his door and reduce him to a pulp for having sought out Luisa without his permission. He only hoped Rico wouldn’t do anything to her.

The evening sky darkened and the first lights of dawn illuminated his bedroom, but Rico never came. The next morning, Raphael ran to Rock’s office, only to find him and Rico deeply in conversation.

“Here you are, little brother.” Rico gave Raphael a pat on his back and Raphael recoiled at his touch, as usual. “Rock just told me you’ve been useful in my absence.”

Raphael’s eyes went to Rock, but the man didn’t turn his way, seemingly busy with a stack of papers on his desk.

“I came to change your schedule. If you can haul loads of laundry for a whole day, you’re fit enough to train again. Your cast will be removed in a few weeks, and you’ll be cleared for fighting. I must ready you for it.”

Before Rico could push him outside of the office, Raphael tried to make eye contact with Rock and as soon as the man looked at him, he whispered his thanks.

With Rico’s back to him, Rock tapped his temple with his index finger. “Think, pup. Every action has a consequence.”

At the door, Rico scoffed and without turning he said, “Are we in a philosophical mood, Rock?”

“Something like that.” Rock waved Raphael away. “Being dead doesn’t help anyone.”

At the door, Raphael heard Rock’s last whisper loud and clear, but sped to join Rico at the end of the corridor.

The whole day, the big brother drilled Raphael on how to use his much smaller and slimmer body to his advantage. Rico even taught Raphael how to use his cast against an opponent, without procuring further injury to his arm. The training was merciless but gave Raphael the excuse to hit Rico back, and that alone was worth the bruises all over his body.

Once released from the gym later in the afternoon, without a plan and without thinking, he ran upstairs to the fourth floor. He must have looked entitled enough though, because the guards let him pass when he said, “Laundry duty.”

Upon his entering, Tiberio lowered a pair of reading glasses down his long nose. “What are you doing here?”

Starting to realize his error, Raphael assumed his best I’ve-nothing-to hide look by slouching against the desk, and gave the man a lazy smile and a shrug. “There are still a few hours left before dinner and I thought I could help here with—” He looked around and made a vague gesture with his hand. “Something.”

“You think you can fool me?” Tiberius pointed at the swinging door behind him, from where feminine voices could be heard talking in hushed tones.

Cold sweat fell between Raphael’s shoulder blades. With a roll of his eyes, he threw both hands in the air in mock defeat. “You got me. They still don’t let me anywhere close to the harem. This is the closest I can get to see the girls. I’m not a monk, you know?” He made to turn and leave, but Tiberius’s laugh caught him mid-step.

“And I’m not blind. I saw the way you looked at blondie, yesterday.” Tiberius set back on his chair and folded his arms on his chest. “You’re in luck. I can use your help to speed things up out there. But remember, you can look, but you can’t touch. They’re all spoken for, and none of the older brothers would like it if you overstepped your boundaries. Understood?”

“I’ll keep my paws to myself.”

“Atta boy.” Tiberius pointed his thumb toward several wicker baskets containing blankets and comforters. “Hang them on the drying racks outside.” Then he added, “FYI, blondie is Rock’s.”

“Got it, thanks.” With his muscles screaming from the extra exercise, Raphael bent to raise the first basket and realized why Tiberius had been eager to let him stay. The cargo was heavier than it looked. The pile of wet quilts and coverlets dripped cold water all over him, and made the basket handles slippery as well. Carefully trying to avoid toppling the beddings to the floor, he hefted the basket to his chest and pushed the sliding door open with his back.

When he turned to face the folding room, he was assaulted by sudden silence and several sets of eyes staring back at him. Among those eyes, Luisa’s green pools of light. At her sight and sweet scent, his heart summersaulted in his chest and a smile tugged at his lips.

“Thank the Goddess, Tiberius sent us someone.” The blond girl waved her hand to redirect Raphael’s attention to her.

Luisa blushed and averted her eyes, looking down at the garment in her hands.

Worried he had done already enough damage by singling her out, Raphael asked the blonde, “Where to?”

“Follow me.” The girl rounded the folding table, then headed toward the door leading to the terrace.

As they were out, the blonde hissed, “If Rico gets wind of you two, he’ll make her suffer.” She gave Raphael a hard stare. “She’s had enough already, and I shouldn’t have accepted to deliver the message for her or be a part of yesterday’s meet up.”

The girl’s words hit him as firm as Rico’s blows had. “I mean her no harm.”

“It doesn’t matter. She’ll be the one paying in any case.”

As he was about to answer, hurried steps interrupted him. He didn’t have to turn to know it was Luisa. Her scent and the speeding up of his heart whenever she was around were clues enough.

Luisa stopped before the blonde and tilted her head. “Give us a moment, Chloe.”

“No. It’s too dangerous for you. If Tiberius decides to check on us or any of the brothers stop by… you were lucky it was Rock yesterday—”

“Rock didn’t talk,” Raphael said for Luisa’s sake.

“Of course he didn’t—” Chloe said.

“Please.” Luisa took the girl’s hands in hers. “We’ll be careful.”

“If we’re caught, I’ll get the fall. I’ll say I tricked you or something like that.” The basket had become unbearably heavy in Raphael’s arms. “Give us five minutes, please. It won’t come back to you. I promise.”

“I’m not worried about me.” Chloe grabbed Luisa by her elbow and made her face her. “Listen to me, think of what would happen to you if Rico is informed of—”

Luisa smiled at the girl and hugged her. “I don’t care.”

Chloe let her go then, but scowled at Raphael. “Five minutes and it’s the last time I cover for you.”

“Thank you,” both Raphael and Luisa said at the same time.

“Come.” Luisa steered him toward the opposite corner, where, under a transparent roof supported by four concrete pillars, stood rows of drying racks.

Sheets and cotton blankets hung everywhere, creating privacy screens that formed open air rooms. By applying the lightest pressure to his arm, Luisa directed him to the center of one of those white havens. There, he dropped the basket to take her in his embrace. Then he kissed her, whispering, “I missed you today.”

A sense of urgency commanded his hands and his lips, but he paused long enough to say, “We can leave messages for each other inside the greenhouse, under the ficus tree pot.” At her frown, he added, “There’s another entry to the terrace besides the one from the laundry. I can always say I need a smoke.”

She nodded and sought his lips again.

Raphael closed his eyes and kissed her with the abandon of the desperate.

****

A few months passed. Cold and dreary winter days lengthened into sunny and windy Spring ones.

Although Raphael and Luisa wrote messages to each other every so often, they were never alone again. They exchanged glances and whispered words when there was enough distraction around, but they couldn’t hold hands or kiss any longer.

Raphael’s weariness at the situation grew month by month. To make things worse, the moment Guts removed Raphael’s cast and declared him fit for duty, Rico gifted Raphael with a cell phone and a gruesome delivering schedule. There were days when Raphael had barely time to eat breakfast or lunch, having to drive from one corner of Rome to the other, often passing through rival gang territories while carrying V.

Then there were the cage matches.

The Reds liked to bet on the outcome of the fighting tournaments that took place twice a week in the gym. Big brothers and little brothers fought against each other in any combination, often with broken limbs as a result. Every time Raphael entered the cage, his only goal was to get out of it as soon as possible. Sometimes, his wish was granted and he spent time at the infirmary. Other times, he lasted longer and sent people to the infirmary.

The only good thing that came out of his new job for the Reds was his brand new bike, a red Ducati Monster that was given to him as his patching gift when he started delivering again. He had lost his Nimbus, but the Monster was a worthy substitute.

Every time Raphael mounted the Ducati, he couldn’t help but dream of the day he would drive away from the Reds with Luisa saddled behind him.

Her arms circling his waist tight as he revved the bike, she would finally smile.

****

One bright day at the end of March, the Reds closed the deal of the century with one of the biggest vampire nests in Rome. Obtaining exclusive rights to sell undiluted V, not only in Rome but all over Latium, put the big brothers in a celebrative mood, and Tancredi threw a party on the fourth floor for everyone to unwind. The entire gang was reunited in the ceremonial hall, and alcohol soon flew free for anyone inclined to get wasted. Rico was one of the major architects of the deal and had started drinking heavily a few hours earlier, much to Raphael’s displeasure who would have to clean after his raucous big brother.

“Have something, pup.” Rico shoved a bottle of beer under Raphael’s nose.

“Later, thanks.” Not that he didn’t need a drink or two to lighten his mood, but Raphael had only eyes for the harem girls, who were coming out from behind the carved screen on the left of the dais. Despite knowing he and Luisa wouldn’t be free to talk to each other, he hadn’t been able to see her in more than a week and the anticipation drove him crazy. The love notes they hid under the terracotta pot kept him going, but they weren’t enough.

In a drunken stride, Rico walked toward the girls who had just entered the hall and looked around. The whole week, the werewolf had acted more despondent and more mean than usual, giving Raphael extra deliveries at the last moment and grating on Raphael’s already frayed nerves.

The moment Luisa emerged from behind the harem screen, Rico zeroed in on her and Raphael’s heart slammed into his chest in fear.

When asked, Luisa had sworn that Rico was leaving her alone. But Raphael couldn’t stop from worrying about his big brother taking an interest in her again. What if he got bored of his latest favorite? During their fleeting encounters, even if at a distance, Raphael always checked Luisa for visible bruises. Fortunately, he had noticed none. It was the reason why he hadn’t done anything rash yet, but now he could see the predatory look in Rico’s eyes, and his fangs descend into his mouth.

Unaware of Raphael’s struggle to contain his wolf, Rico grabbed Luisa’s arm and jerked her around. “Here she is, my little bitch.”

A dangerous mixture of panic and anger pumped into Raphael’s veins, clouding his power of reasoning and letting Wolf much closer to the surface.

“Having fun already, Rico?” Tancredi called from his throne.

At hearing the alpha, the werewolf spun around without letting go of Luisa. “A man must relax after such a day, no?”

“That’s what parties are for.” Tancredi reached for the redhead standing on the dais and pulled her into his lap. “Let’s celebrate.” With a regal nod, he dismissed Rico who teetered through the hall dragging Luisa after him.

Following them a few steps behind, Raphael saw the bruise forming on Luisa’s arm and his wolf roared. Reminding himself it would be much worse for her if he made a scene now, he bit his tongue and ordered his wolf to silence once again.

In a lewd parody of dancing, Rico paused in the middle of the hall to sway at rhythm with the loud music. Then he pressed Luisa’s back to his chest and licked her throat, as his big hand slid under her top.

“You do smell quite good, don’t you?” Spinning the two of them around, the werewolf’s hands roamed up and down Luisa. He stopped only when he faced Raphael again, and, with his eyes locked on his, he squeezed Luisa’s breast. “I might let you back into my rotation if you start acting like a good girl.” With a sudden turn, he gave his back to Raphael.

Raphael saw black. Rico was challenging him. Despite Raphael had taken all the precautions to ensure Luisa was safe and no one knew of them, his big brother knew. His stomach contracted while his hands balled into fists and swung at Rico by their own volition.

One big hand intercepted the blow. “Easy, pup.” Rock was looking down at him, his expression as stony as his name implied. “Whatever you think you’re doing, don’t.”

With a jerk, Raphael freed himself from Rock—whom he hadn’t heard coming—and showed him teeth.

“Get a grip!” Rock hissed, bodily stopping Raphael from advancing toward Rico who was still groping Luisa.

When Rock tapped on Rico’s shoulder, the werewolf turned and his eyes widened at the sight of Rock, a drunken smile gracing his face. “Hey, brother, how was your day?”

“Just great.” Rock kept his body angled to talk to Rico, meanwhile shielding Raphael from the other wolf. “I heard yours was eventful.”

“Yeah… you could say that.” Rico kissed Luisa’s crown making her shiver, then his expression changed from sleepy to calculate. “Tell you what, brother, I’m feeling generous tonight and I’ll share my toy with you.” As he pushed Luisa toward the other Red, his gaze zeroed in on Raphael. His icy blue eyes drilled Raphael, waiting for him to react.

Having turned seventeen a few months back, Raphael had finally bulked up thanks to a steadier diet and all the cage fight training. But Rico was bigger, both in height and weight, and Raphael had to remind himself he better stay put. And yet, he would have risked everything to hurt Rico for touching Luisa, and humiliating her before the crowd that had gathered to watch the drama unfold.

“No, thanks. Got my old lady waiting for me.” Rock pointed his chin at Chloe, who stood beside a group of girls looking at them from a corner nearby, worry etched on their faces.

“Raphael, what about you? Fancy some sport with this ugly ragdoll?” Rico squeezed Luisa’s chest with both hands, and she gasped. “She isn’t much to look at, no curves and all bones. But isn’t that your type—”

Raphael forced a mask on his face. Hoping he could still salvage the situation, he uttered the crudest, filthiest thing he could think of, and waited for the men to laugh. Then, without looking at Luisa, he told Rico, “Sure. I might have a use for that.”

Luisa lowered her head, but Raphael saw her tears and hated himself.

Rico made to push her toward Raphael, but at the last moment he pulled Luisa back against him instead. “Changed my mind, pup. I’ll have some fun with her myself.” His hand went to Luisa’s throat, his fingers circling her skin in a possessive way, without pressing yet.

The drunken horde hollered and cheered, reminding Raphael of how powerless he was to do anything. The realization didn’t stop him from roaring and baring teeth. Luisa’s ashen expression and the subtle shake of her head as tears kept falling down her cheek made him sheathe his fangs, but not fast enough.

“Oh, the pup is angry he doesn’t get to play tonight.” Rico’s hold on Luisa’s throat tightened. An open threat. “Are you challenging me, little brother?”

The crowd anticipated blood and shouted their approval, chanting, “Fight! Fight!”

“That’s an idea. What says you?” Rico smiled and finally opened his hand, letting go of Luisa who staggered forward, color returning to her face.

Before Raphael could reach for her, Rock grabbed Luisa’s elbow and took her aside and out of Rico’s reach as well. For that, Raphael was grateful.

“Do you have the guts to fight me, pup?” Stepping forward, Rico beat his chest with his fisted hands.

More holler from the crowd followed his act.

Although Raphael should have known better, a sneer came out of his mouth as he raised an eyebrow and said, “Worried you’ll have your ass beaten by a cub, big brother?”

Whistles, laughter, and general bewilderment covered Rico’s words to Raphael. “Be very careful with what you say. Being under Tancredi’s protection doesn’t put you above brotherhood rules.”

With more bravado than he could afford, Raphael stepped closer to Rico until he encroached on the werewolf’s personal space, and beat his chest too. “Bring it on.” Desperation and anger didn’t make him smart, but he couldn’t see any other way out from that situation.

Some of the men nearby must have heard the exchange, and started stomping their boots, calling Tancredi’s attention from the other end of the hall. One raised hand from the alpha was all it took for the drunkards to sober up and shut their mouths.

“What’s the matter?” Tancredi asked Rico.

“Pup needs to learn some manners, and I intend to provide the service tonight.” Rico’s words were smug, but Raphael noticed how his big brother drummed his fingers against his thigh.

The Red’s nervousness was a sign he wasn’t as drunk as Raphael had counted on. Rico was lucid enough to fear Tancredi’s wrath and that wasn’t good.

Tancredi turned to face Raphael, gave him an assessing gaze, then said to Rico, “Make it a fair fight.”

Rico stilled his fingers making a fist and yet answered, “Would never have it any other way.” He then focused on Raphael, his canines visible when his lips stretched into a scary smile.

With a paternal gesture so at odds with his character, Tancredi wound his arm around Raphael’s shoulder. “You might earn your second tattoo tonight.”

Blood chilled in Raphael’s veins. No one had told him anything about having to endure the torturing prickle of the stigma ever again. Although, at the moment he had more pressing matters he needed to deal with than worrying about another ink session.

Rico flanked him on the other side. “If he survives the cage,” he said, matching Raphael’s own conclusion.

With a chuckle, Tancredi made sign for the crowd to move along. “To the gym.”

A procession formed. While the horde headed toward the stairs, Raphael and Rico were directed by Tancredi to the elevator, creating a low buzz of excitement. Raphael scanned the crowd looking for Luisa, but realized neither Rock nor the other girls were in the hall anymore. With his heart in his throat and his thoughts scattered in a million different directions, he entered the elevator cabin.

The ride downstairs was silent, slow, and awkward, and made for a stark contrast when the door slid to the side and revealed several people waiting for them. They must have run the stairs three or four at a time to be already at the gym landing. In no time, the crowd recomposed, and after a moment of hesitation to test the alpha’s mood the cheering resumed.

While Raphael and Rico were escorted to the cage, a frenetic exchange of money ensued among the spectators. Idly, Raphael wondered if anyone would wager in his favor, then he raised his eyes to the jutting walkway and saw where the girls had gone. His fleeting amusement soured in his mouth, leaving only dread behind.

Luisa, hugged by Chloe, sat with her legs dangling in the empty air. Her posture rigid, she stared down at him unblinking. Raphael felt her fear, her desperation, and those feelings became his own, pumping his heart to a frenzy.

“Keep your head.” Rock’s meaty hand fell on his shoulder.

Again, Raphael hadn’t heard him coming and didn’t care for his presence.

“He has much more to lose than you do,” Rock added.

Up on the walkway, Chloe embraced Luisa tighter and leaned forward, hiding Luisa’s face from Raphael. Automatically, he stepped forward, distressed that Luisa would watch him fight, and terrified that would be the last she saw of him. Chloe shook her head and covered Luisa with her arms.

“Listen to me.” Rock grabbed Raphael’s elbow and squeezed hard.

The pinching pain reverberated to his shoulder and Raphael suppressed a cry.

“Do I have your attention now?” Rock didn’t let go of him until Raphael nodded. “When you enter the cage remember what you learned while sparring with Rico. He’s big and cocky.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.” His eyes glued on the walkway, Raphael silently begged for Chloe to have mercy on him, and release her hold on Luisa long enough for him to say his goodbye.

Tancredi took position on the big chair one of the brothers had dragged down from the billiard room for him—he usually didn’t show at the fight tournaments—and raised his jeweled hand. “Let’s the match begin.”

Accompanied by Rock, Raphael entered the cage before Rico, who ran around its perimeter soliciting the crowd to cheer him. Once they were both inside, Rock exited and the spectators fell silent once again.

Dark, malevolent energy permeated Rico as he approached Raphael with a smirk. “No rounds. We fight until you drop or cry uncle.”

With a shrug, Raphael bumped his fists against Rico’s raised ones. “You wish.” So that was Rico’s plan, to force him to surrender and humiliate him.

The ability to reason escaped Raphael the moment the cage door closed with a clank. His wolf snarled and he let him, his hair bristled and his fangs lowered. Bleak thoughts swirled inside his mind and froze his heart.

“Wolves in check or you are disqualified,” Tancredi ordered, then flicked his wrist. One of the three girls standing behind his chair hurried to his side, and grabbing her by her waist he lowered her to the armchair.

Bright light exploded over the cage, offending Raphael’s eyes, and making Rico a stark sight while the rest of the world disappeared behind the bars.

Whereas Rico had been boisterous up until a moment earlier, now he took slow, measured gestures to remove his shirt, then his boots.

The Red’s show didn’t faze Raphael. The man was big and ripped, but Raphael already knew that from their sparring sessions, where Rico always took great care in pointing out how small and scrawny Raphael was compared to him. His father had always remarked on Raphael being the runt of the litter too.

Raphael kicked his boots and socks out, and let the concrete floor coldness seep through his bare feet and center him.

“Are you going to fight dressed for the ball?” Rico pointed at Raphael’s jacket. “Remove it.”

That was new. The werewolf had never commanded Raphael to doff his clothes. True, Raphael had never fought with his Red jacket on, because disrespecting the patch was frowned upon. Even though Raphael didn’t care about the Red code of conduct, he needed to blend in and not enrage the spectators and Tancredi. So, as he had done countless times before, he bit his remark and shrugged off his jacket, despite his wolf demanding him to stand up to the Red and the rest of the audience.

“The shirt too, lover boy.” A cruel, knowing smile lit Rico’s face as he raised an eyebrow in challenge.

When Raphael hesitated—the fear of showing himself too ingrained for him to let go of it—Rico barked a laugh, then said loud enough for the people near the bars to hear him, “Worried to show your ugly back?”

At first, Raphael’s stomach contracted. The old, familiar pang of panic rose to his throat, choking him. Then he realized Rico must have seen his scars when Raphael had fainted that first day of training, and waited to use that knowledge. Somehow, the thought was liberating.

With the same slow, deliberated movements Rico had shown earlier, Raphael grabbed the hem of his shirt and raised it over his head, only to toss it to the floor with a lazy smile. Raising his arms to the side, he rotated on his feet, giving the audience the full visual of the crisscross of lashes and cigarette butts marring his skin, from the base of his neck to the small of his back. His father had been nothing but thorough and dedicated to the task of teaching his son what was his place in this world, trembling and shaking at his feet.

When the collective gasp came, Raphael raised his chin and locked eyes with Rico. “Do your worst.”

Rico’s smile faltered for a moment, but when he talked again his voice was humorless. “You asked for it.” Snarling, he descended on Raphael like a fury, his hands balled in fists and his fangs out.

The first punch hit Raphael’s jaw and he staggered back, but regained control before the second punch would send him to the floor. Dancing on the ball of his feet, he evaded Rico’s next attack and kicked him squarely in the chest. Raphael’s wolf howled, and the crowd half cheered and half booed him.

“Mind your wolf!” Tancredi’s voice boomed from the darkness.

Controlling Wolf from lashing out took his mind from the imminent danger, and Raphael lost momentum. Rico took advantage of Raphael’s loss of focus and kicked him back, too close to his groin for Raphael’s comfort. Then Raphael leaned, and spun on his heels to deliver a roundhouse kick that only hit Rico’s arm.

“You’re like a mosquito,” the man hissed and launched himself at Raphael, squashing him against the bars, upper and lower jabs rained down on Raphael.

With his arms raised, Raphael tried to protect his head, but Rico pummeled his chin with a series of punches that reverberated through Raphael’s mouth, and from there to his skull. Years of practice in defending himself kicked in, and he was able to relax his tongue and move it away from his teeth. Too close to his opponent and too busy avoiding incapacitating blows, at a loss for smart moves Raphael raised his knee up, hoping to connect with any of Rico’s vital parts.

An anguished snarl followed, and Rico leaned away long enough for Raphael to free himself from the cornered position, and move toward the center of the cage. Rico recouped immediately and swung at him with an uppercut that caught Raphael unprepared, even though he had seen the blow coming his way. The sheer amount of power behind the punch that connected with Raphael’s solar plexus wasn’t anything he was used to. Even during their gruesome sparring sessions, Rico had never hit him that hard. With a gasp, Raphael ended on the concrete floor but managed to roll and didn’t hit his head.

“Here’s one final lesson for you, you never show your enemy your full strength until you have a need for it.” Murder in his every action, Rico advanced until he towered over Raphael. “Consider yourself graduated, pup.” He raised his leg only to lower his heel toward Raphael’s groin.

The most primordial survival instinct overtook Raphael and he moved away at the last moment, forcing Rico to hit the floor hard instead. Enraged, Rico shouted a crude profanity. Raphael shot back up and punched the Red in the guts twice. Raphael’s third attempt was deflected by Rico, who swatted Raphael’s fists away with his arm and head-butted him. Again on the floor and disoriented from the hit, Raphael tried to squirm away, but Rico placed his foot on his stomach and pressed until Raphael stilled.

Removing his foot, Rico leaned down and seized Raphael by the shoulders, then lifted him up like a ragdoll. “I’ve had enough of playing with you.” With the most impassionate expression, he started punching Raphael’s face with methodical blows. “You little scum. Thinking you were good enough to see one of my girls behind my back.”

Dizziness and pain mixed, and Raphael couldn’t be sure how long Rico’s punishment lasted, but he managed to throw a few punches around, and even a kick that connected with empty air.

“Say you’ve had enough.” Rico’s order was followed by an uppercut that hit Raphael to the temple.

A deep-rooted emotion resurfaced, and when Raphael should have considered saving himself, he said instead, “Never.”

“I’ve joked until now.”

“Me too.” Raphael couldn’t see anything anymore. A black wall had lowered before his eyes, but he could feel the Red breathing close to him and he swung a punch.

“You’re pathetic.”

Several blows hit Raphael all over his body, but he still refused to surrender. After losing his sight, also his hearing defeated him. Swimming in a sea of hurt, blind and deaf, he commanded his arms to move in what he hoped were upper jabs. Vibrations from the floor echoed through him. Was the crowd cheering his sudden demise? Wolf snarled, but Raphael couldn’t control him anymore, so he begged, “Please, don’t embarrass me.”

A heavy blanket enveloped Raphael and after swinging his heavy arm one last time, he fell and finally let go.

Chapter Thirteen

Waking up after fainting because of a beating wasn’t new to Raphael. Coming back to the land of the living with a crowd cheering him was a first though.

“You done it again, pup.” Rock’s face hovered over Raphael’s, but was replaced a moment later by Guts’s.

“Follow my finger,” the tattooist and doctor said as he turned on a small flashlight.

It took a moment for Raphael to get his bearings together, but he blinked then focused his eyes on the moving finger as Guts had asked.

“Good.” Guts lowered the flashlight and helped Raphael to a sitting position.

“Raphael! Raphael! Raphael!” Stomping boots accompanied his name.

The fracas was hard on his ears and made his heart throb. “What’s happening?”

“You resisted inside the cage far longer than anyone expected you would, and you didn’t lose control.” Rock appeared again pushing away Guts, in his hand a wad of euros he fanned before Raphael.

“Big deal. I lost.” Blood coated Raphael’s tongue and his stomach heaved. “I’m alive though.” The realization shocked him. He had survived Rico’s ire.

“Not only that.” Rock smiled and pointed at his back. “You stood up to Rico and only went down after he summoned his wolf. He got disqualified.”

Rock’s last words were drowned by another bout of chanting and stomping from the crowd. At Raphael’s frown, Rock said, “You won.”

Collecting his last memory of the fight, Raphael shook his head. “My wolf—”

“Rico’s wolf came out first.” Rock tilted his chin to point at the other corner of the cage, where several figures huddled close. “Tancredi’s delivering his judgment to Rico.”

“No, no, no!” Raphael swore as he tentatively bent his knees to push himself up.

“What are you doing?” Rock placed a hand over Raphael’s chest and pressed down. “Why are you upset?”

“He’s going to take it out on Luisa. I must do something.” Raphael’s eyes went to the walkway, but no one was there. “Where’s she?”

“Lower your voice.” With a finger over his mouth, Rock hunched to get closer to Raphael and whispered, “She’s fine. Rico won’t be able to do anything to her for a while.”

“Why?”

“I’m sure our alpha’s come up with an exemplary punishment—” A commotion disturbed Rock and he turned.

The circle of people standing by the other corner opened and let Tancredi pass through. As the alpha crossed the cage, the cheering crowd became louder and more raucous, and only when Tancredi stopped before Raphael silence ensued. The sudden change startled Raphael whose temples had been pounding at a rhythm with the stomping and the chanting.

“You’ve earned your second tattoo, my son.” Tancredi looked down at him and offered his hand.

After Rock subtly nudged Raphael’s thigh with his boot, he accepted the alpha’s hand. When he tried to stand, Tancredi waved for him not to bother. A second, stronger nudge from Rock prompted Raphael to bow his head. “Thank you, sir.”

The alpha leaned and patted Raphael’s shoulder. “Guts will take care of you.”

The place remained silent for a moment longer, then Tancredi exited the cage and the crowd went wild once again. As promised, Guts was at Raphael’s side and with Rock’s help they half carried, half dragged Raphael out of the gym and into the elevator.

While riding to the fourth floor, Guts hastily assessed Raphael’s conditions. “I would suggest we do your new ink tonight. I’ll drug you up good and you won’t feel a thing.”

At Raphael’s immediate, “No drugs,” Guts raised one hand and said, “You need a strong painkiller.”

When the elevator reached the last floor, the cabin lurched and Raphael didn’t fall on his knees only because Rock’s arms tightened around him.

“I think he should recover from the fight. A few days of rest and good food should be enough,” Rock said.

Guts looked at Raphael, then shrugged. “It’s better for him to get it over with. He’ll probably faint right away and won’t feel a thing.”

“But—”

Raphael stopped Rock. “Guts is right. I’d rather do it now.”

“Are you sure? Tancredi would understand if you asked to postpone it,” Rock said.

The ceiling and the floor exchanged positions as a bout of vertigo overtook Raphael, but he closed his eyes as Rock gently guided him out of the elevator. “I’ve made up my mind.”

Guts bounced ahead in the hallway. “Okay. Have you thought of the design and where do you want it?”

After Guts entered the tattoo chamber, Rock paused at the door and barred it with his outstretched arm to stop Raphael from entering. “Take your time to decide. The second ink is as much a big of a deal as the first.”

“Said the man covered in tattoos.” Guts’s voice came from the chamber.

Rock shook his head. “Don’t listen to him. He’s a sadist.”

“I heard you.” Guts laughed. “But, pup, if you need a moment or two to decide—”

Before the two men would waste any more time, Raphael said, “I don’t need to think about it. I already know what I want.”

With a raised eyebrow, Rock lowered his arm and let Raphael pass. “And what is it that you want?”

Staggering toward the barber chair, Raphael smiled in the dim light. “Two majestic wings on my back.”

****

The next morning, Raphael was in so much pain he could barely stand. Forced to the infirmary by Guts, who administered him all the painkillers Raphael had refused the night before, he mostly dozed for the rest of the day. When he was finally able to remain awake for more than ten minutes at a time, he asked after Rock.

The werewolf entered the room a few minutes later, his big chest heaving as he strode toward Raphael’s corner. “How’re you?”

“Better than new.” As soon as Rock leaned over his bed, Raphael whispered, “Luisa?”

The Red looked over his shoulder to check where Guts was. The man was working on a table at the opposite corner, minding his own business.

Rock whispered back, “Still fine.”

“For how long?”

“Tancredi sent Rico to solitary. He’ll stay there until tomorrow night.” Rock lowered himself to the small chair by the bed and crossed his arms before him. “What are you planning to do?”

“Nothing.” Lying came natural to Raphael, yet Rock looked at him and sighed, as he usually seemed to do when Raphael was involved.

“I know I’m wasting my time telling you this, but please don’t do anything stupid—”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The words were out of his mouth, but even Raphael had to admit he hadn’t sounded convincing.

Rock leaned forward. “At least tell me what you intend to do, so I can help you.”

The temptation to trust Rock made Raphael open his mouth, but he thought better of it and shook his head instead. “I have no plan.” The truth.

Rock tilted his head. “Yet.” Also the truth.

A crashing noise made both Raphael and Rock turn.

Guts waved a hand at them. “I swear, the tray slipped through my fingers.”

As the tattooist bent to retrieve broken pieces of glass from the floor, Rock stood. “Think about what I said.”

Raphael watched him leave, and couldn’t help but wonder if he could talk to Rock, truly talk to him. But he couldn’t trust anyone to save Luisa, let alone a Red. He also needed to hatch a plan, and put it in practice before Rico would be released from solitary.

Raising one hand over his head, Raphael waved at Guts. “I need some air.” What he needed was to receive news from Luisa, and he hoped she had left a message for him under the ficus tree.

With his hands full, Guts wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “I’m kind of busy to cart you around.”

“I can manage by myself.” Swinging his legs to the side of the bed with more conviction than his aching muscles allowed him, Raphael placed his naked feet on the floor and pushed himself up. “See?” He swayed but was able to control his body right away.

“Hmm. Can’t you wait until I finish cleaning up?” Guts’s eyes went to the window, and Raphael followed his gaze. The evening sky was clouded.

“Isn’t it dinnertime already?”

“Come and gone.” Guts raised one shoulder and sighed. “I couldn’t leave you unattended.”

“I bet you’re hungry. You don’t need to babysit me any longer. I’m fine. I’ll take the wheelchair if it makes you feel better.”

Scratching his nose with the back of his hand, Guts nodded. “Okay, go.”

Two wheelchairs were parked to the side of the door, and Raphael grabbed one by the handles on his way out of the infirmary. Although he had only meant to pacify Guts, Raphael realized he had overestimated his strength and was glad he could lean on something on his way to the terrace. He could have sat in the wheelchair, but preferred using it as a walker. Fortunately, the infirmary was on the same floor.

“Out and about, champion?” The usual guy guarding the fourth floor landing waved at him.

“I can’t stand the smell of disinfectant in the evening.” Raphael didn’t pause his already slow ambling, but steered toward the man. “And I need a smoke.” Thrusting his chin at the guard, he asked, “Do you have a cigarette?”

“Sure.” The man reached inside the breast pocket of his jacket, procured a thin, hand-rolled cigarette, and offered it to him. “My best tobacco.”

“Thank you, brother.”

When Raphael secured it between his fingers and brought it to his mouth, the man reached into another pocket for the lighter. Instead of lighting the cigarette for Raphael, he pointed at the end of the corridor. “You know the drill, go outside or the smoke detector will go off.”

“No problem, I was on my way to the terrace anyway.” He took the proffered lighter and resumed his strolling, raising the fingers holding the cigarette in salute. “Thanks again.” With his back to the guard, he pocketed the cigarette and the lighter inside the pouch on the scrubs.

His father had smoked, and Raphael hated everything associated with it. Having to handle cigarettes disgusted him, but no Red would go to the terrace unless for a smoke and Raphael had to look the part. Outside, the evening air engulfed him, making him shiver. Automatically, he hugged himself and his hand didn’t accompany the door all the way through to keep it ajar. “Sh—” He had closed himself out.

To add injury to the insult, he didn’t see the brick by the side of the door—the one he should have used to keep it open—and kicked it with his flip-flop clad foot. The wind raised the hem of his flimsy clothing, and it reminded him it could get worse still. Eager to leave the infirmary, he hadn’t thought of wearing something over the loose scrubs. Not that he could have covered his back in any case. The prickling of the stigma was etched all over his skin, but both Guts and Rock had told him the new design looked fantastic. Apparently, his winged tattoo had been worth fainting over it, several times.

Struggling with every step, but very much awake thanks to the frigid gust lashing at him, Raphael reached the safety of the greenhouse. There, he pushed the wheelchair to the ficus tree and lowered himself to the ground to check the terracotta pot, but there wasn’t any message tucked underneath the big plate. Disappointment hit him and he sat heavily on the wheelchair, unable to muster the strength to do much more than breathe.

Not quite full, the moon played peekaboo from among the clouds, intermittingly illuminating the greenhouse with a soft glow. With his eyes on the glass ceiling, he looked for the stars, but even when the sky was dark they were hidden by the orange haze emanated by the never-sleeping Rome. Wolf whined a full second before Raphael heard the door open.

“Luisa?” Her scent filled his nostrils.

She ran toward him and he tried to stand, but she was faster and knocked him down to the wheelchair. He couldn’t help to yelp in pain when his bare back hit the hard leather.

“I’m sorry—” Her green eyes filled with worry as she helped him out of the chair. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” Once on his feet, he leaned to brush her lips. “You shouldn’t have come, but I’m glad you’re here. I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine. I had to leave a message for you before the run,” she said between kisses. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow for Enclosure, and—”

Raphael put a finger on her mouth. “What do you mean you’re leaving and what’s Enclosure?”

“Every full moon—”

“Crap, full moon it’s tomorrow night.” Not that Wolf had been quiet about it.

“Yes, and the whole harem moves to this place, it’s like a big corral for us to run around.”

Raphael had overheard brothers talking about the girls’ separate run. When he had asked for details, no one had told him anything though, because he was a little brother. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know. We’re driven there in closed vans.”

“Who drives?”

“I don’t know the drivers for the other vans, but Rico always drives mine and stays with our group the whole time. He runs with us to make sure we don’t try to escape.”

“There’s no time then—” Raphael hugged her tight and rested his chin on her head.

“Time for what?”

“Rico’ll be out just in time for the run and I can’t let him near you.”

“I don’t know who told him about us.”

“It doesn’t matter. He knows and he’ll hurt you because he can’t hurt me.”

“I’m not afraid of him anymore.” She looked up and smiled at him. “You’re worth everything.”

With a shaky hand, he caressed her cheek. “Don’t say it. It would drive me insane if something happened to you.” Born from despair, the rough sketch of an idea took form in his tired mind. “Who knows you came out here?”

“Just Chloe. She has the keys to the door opening into the laundry room directly from the harem.”

“Do you trust Chloe?”

“I do. Why?”

“Will she say anything if she doesn’t see you coming back right away?”

“If I don’t go back in ten minutes and knock on the door as planned, she’ll come out to check, but she wouldn’t raise any alarm on me. Why?”

The plan was nothing more than wishful thinking on his part, but Raphael knew there wouldn’t be another moment like that, at night, with the two of them alone with immediate access to the external stairwell. “You’re leaving tonight.”

Brought by the high winds, a thicker blanket of clouds hid the moon plunging the greenhouse into darkness.

Straightening his arms, he leaned back to better look at Luisa. “You must be brave.”

She shivered. “I won’t leave you.”

Caressing her back, he shushed her with a kiss. “You’ll climb down those stairs—” He made up the plan as he told her, his mind crammed with thoughts. “I’ll climb with you and I’ll shield you from the camera.” He pointed at the wrought iron spiral staircase. Its landing was placed just outside of the greenhouse, by the gazebo where they had hung clothes so long ago. “Three blocks from here, near the amusement park, between Magenta Street and Vivaldi Court there is an enforcer center. You can’t miss it. It’s a three-story building all covered in white marble. Ask to be taken to RYS. I’ll look for you there.”

Pushing her away from him was more painful than any beating he had ever received. More painful than the tattoo still bleeding on his back. “Never look back. Just run.”

“Raphael—”

The sweetness of his name on her lips was another blow to Raphael’s heart. Luisa’s tears yet another slash on his open wounds, and he gave in to a last kiss, a last embrace. His lips sought hers and he felt her breathing faltering, as his did. Knowing it was a mistake but unable to resist the call, he crashed her to him, and their tears mixed.

The winds above disturbed the clouds. For a brief moment, the moon illuminated the greenhouse with enough light to make her shining eyes look like stars.

When the darkness was restored, Raphael opened his arms and stepped away from her. “Please.”

She glanced over her shoulder, but hesitated. “Don’t put yourself in danger.”

“I won’t if you leave now.” When she didn’t move, he pulled her along and walked as fast as his aching limbs permitted.

Once they left the protection of the greenhouse, the staggering weight of their harsh reality fell upon Raphael. Doubts assailed him, but he marched forward, and didn’t let go of Luisa until they reached the staircase landing. Without giving his mind time to find any fault with his plan, he started descending the stairs and kept her attached to him.

If his memory wasn’t playing any trick on him, he thought he remembered where the camera was positioned on that side of the building. He counted on the darkness to hide her—she was so small she disappeared behind him—until they reached the last few steps on the ground floor level. For every story they cleared going down, Raphael felt his heart plummeting too. His eyes trained on the wall, looking for the camera that would give them away, he breathed in and out preparing for the show he had planned for the Reds.

Then he finally saw the black box jutting a meter below their feet, and stopped. “We have one or two seconds to pull this off once I step in front of the camera.” He double-checked they were almost at ground level, and decided she could make it without broken limbs. “You stay on this step and wait for me to wave at the security guys in the monitor room. As I raise my hand, you jump. A moment later, I’ll be illuminated like a Christmas tree and you must be already on your way to the enforcer station.”

When he felt her hesitation, he whispered, “I’ll come for you.” Turning, he kissed her one last time.

“I’ll be fine,” Luisa said, gifting him with the only words he wanted to hear from her.

“Then I’ll be fine too.” With a smile, he turned and descended three steps, paused long enough to give her time to ready herself for the jump, then he stepped lower to put himself right in front of the camera.

The black box moved to frame him. He heard first a whooshing sound, then the faint noise of small feet landing on the street pavement, and breathed in relief. When a second later bright white light illuminated him, he smiled and raised his hand to show the cigarette he had kept on him. As soon as he heard Luisa’s steps dim into nothing, he walked to the front. There, he waited for one of the security guys to open the door for him.

“Went out on the terrace for a smoke and closed myself out,” he explained to the burly guy who let him in.

“Next time, remember to stop the door, dumbass.” The guy closed the door behind him and signaled for him to go upstairs.

As Raphael stepped into the landing, he found Rock waiting for him.

“Out for a smoke and closed yourself out, ah?” Rock asked, an unreadable expression on his face.

Chapter Fourteen

Leaning against the wrought iron balustrade of the stairs, Rock clenched and unclenched his fists as he kept his eyes on Raphael. The man’s breathing was strained, but besides the mechanic movements of his hands not a single muscle flexed or shifted. Rock stood still as a statue, and after asking a question that had sounded rhetorical to Raphael’s guilty ears, he also remained silent.

Although Raphael had been freezing a moment earlier, now he was sweating. The silence stretched and became awkward, forcing an answer out of his mouth. “You know how it is. I needed to decompress.”

“Did you?” Rock stilled his hands and raised his arms to wrap the balustrade, crossing his boots at his ankles.

A young Red hurried down the stairs and only stopped before Rock. “I apologize, big brother. I didn’t realize I was late for my shift. It won’t ever happen—”

Rock brought a hand up. “You got that right, Lupo. It won’t happen again. Since I had to cover for you, you’ll get double shift at the monitors tonight.”

“Of course.” Lupo waited for Rock to dismiss him with a nod, then he resumed his descent.

As if they hadn’t been interrupted, Rock asked, “So, did you decompress?”

“I think so.” Raphael had always hated mental games, but people kept walking by and he couldn’t have a frank talk with Rock.

“I’m glad for you.” Without a hint he would do so, Rock pivoted on his heels and went downstairs.

Even though Raphael’s first instinct would have been to run after him, he climbed up instead. Once he was back in the infirmary, he heavily sat on his bed, glad that Guts wasn’t there. Lying on his side, he pretended to be asleep when the tattooist came back and kept pretending for the rest of the night. Once in a while, he stirred, trying to rest his body while his mind was in tumult.

Every step in the hallway echoed inside his head like a rumble, making his heart speed and his lungs fight for air. Hundreds of scenarios played out for him as the sky slowly changed from darkness to light. The new morning didn’t bring Raphael respite. For all he knew, Luisa could have been apprehended around the corner and brought back to the compound.

“Slept well?” Guts appeared at the side of the bed and caught Raphael with his eyes open, staring at the window.

“Never better.”

“Doesn’t look like.” Guts took his vitals.

Without bothering to attempt conversation with the man, Raphael complied with everything Guts asked him to do, including let him draw blood. “Am I free to go?”

“If you feel like it, yes.” Guts took the blood ampoules and walked to the fridge by the corner. “It’s full moon tonight, so you’ll feel like new by tomorrow morning. Just try to lay low for the rest of the day.”

As it had happened with Rock earlier, Gut’s choice of words set Raphael on edge. Fasting since the day before, Raphael’s head swam as soon as he stood. Yet, he refused any help or painkillers and walked out and to his room.

The whole day, he waited to be called before Tancredi. He forced himself to eat, but was too nervous and threw up his lunch. Several hours later, a knock on his door found him prepared to confront Rock, the alpha, even Rico.

“Run call,” someone said from the other side. “Be ready downstairs in thirty minutes or you’ll be left here.”

The announcement took him by surprise. After battling his demons the whole day, he hadn’t expected something so mundane. What had happened to Luisa? Had they found her?

Despite his back still hurt, he donned a white shirt with his Red jacket on it, his faded jeans, and slipped into his boots without tying them. Slowed by the pain, he dragged his feet along the hallway and down the stairs. Several minutes later, he was in line to enter the Jeep that would take him to Crossing, the Red-owned piece of land where the gang shifted once a month.

As he climbed inside his vehicle, Raphael saw Rico looking at him from inside another Jeep.

“Sleeping beauty, care to enter any time soon?” A push accompanied the words.

When Raphael looked over his shoulder, he saw the Lupo guy from the day before smirking at him, and behind Lupo stood Rock with the most serious of expressions.

Sandwiched between the door and Lupo, Raphael thanked the Great Wolf for small favors, because he wasn’t sitting next to Rock. The driver and the Red sitting in front talked the entire ride about the Italian soccer championship—they rooted for the city’s opposing teams. Soon the conversation became too animated, and Rock had to intervene. For that too, Raphael was grateful. Rock’s eyes had been burning holes on Raphael’s side, despite Lupo being between them.

An hour later, after driving north of Rome for more than sixty kilometers, the Jeep reached Crossing. The driver parked in the large plain overlooking acres of pristine land bordered by woods, two rivers, and a lake. Wondering if the girls’ Enclosure was nearby, Raphael dismounted to fill his lungs with air redolent of grass and flowers in blossom. So close to shift, his already enhanced olfactory sense picked all the smells around him. Included Rico’s, full of rage. The werewolf had exited his Jeep and was walking toward Raphael. By the fire in the man’s eyes and the acrid stench he emanated, Raphael knew Rico was in for the blood.

Rock moved before Raphael, hands crossed on his chest and legs spread wide. “You run by my side tonight. Tancredi’s orders,” he announced loud enough for everyone to hear.

Raphael heard the growl coming from behind Rock and knew without a doubt it belonged to Rico. When Rock moved, Rico was gone.

Rock’s hand on his elbow steered Raphael around the corner of the Jeep, and out of sight from the other werewolves. “If you as much as leave my side to pee, I swear I’ll tan your hide so dark you won’t be able to sit until you’re forty. Understood, pup?” Rock squeezed his hold and didn’t relent until Raphael nodded. “Good.”

After that exchange, they both doffed their clothes in silence, and left them inside the Jeep to retrieve them the morning after. The moon peaked and Raphael shifted, but instead of feeling joy at letting go of himself he felt trapped. Fortunately, his wolf behaved and remained attached to Rock’s black wolf, who nipped him on his flank and neck several times to make sure he wouldn’t stray. More than once, Rico’s large red-brown wolf came close to Raphael, but Rock growled at him and sent him away.

Not surprisingly, once Raphael shifted to human he felt worse for the wear. His back was healed, but he was exhausted. Rock didn’t look any fresher and was in a foul mood as they headed home.

When they arrived, the Red compound was in high alert. Rumors were whispered along the line that one of the girls had disappeared during the run. The tension was palpable. Confused by what he heard on the grapevine, Raphael waited for the other shoe to drop as he went along with the others. Sure enough, not even ten minutes in his room and he was summoned to the fourth floor. Two guards escorted him to the alpha.

A suit-clad Tancredi, looking as formidable as ever, sat on his throne on the dais as Rico paced before him.

At Raphael’s arrival, Rico pointed a finger in his direction. “I’m telling you it was him.” He foamed at his mouth and he threw his arms around.

“Raphael, do you know what he’s talking about?” Tancredi asked.

The lie was already on his mouth, but Raphael thought better of it this time. “I heard something about a girl disappearing—”

“My bitch. The one you were seeing behind my back.” Rico walked up to Raphael, pushing him backward.

Raphael stood his ground and bumped his chest against Rico’s when he stepped forward next.

“Rico,” Tancredi said with a low growl and Rico reluctantly trod to the side.

“It was him, I tell you,” Rico spat.

From the side hallway, the one that led to the harem quarters, Rock came out escorting Chloe. The girl was crying and she looked disheveled.

“So?” Tancredi asked Rock.

“I interrogated her and she swears she saw the missing girl at Enclosure last. At the van, she gave the alarm that her friend hadn’t come back.”

“Something must’ve happened to Luisa. She was attacked—” Chloe sobbed so hard she couldn’t continue talking.

“She wasn’t attacked.” Rico laughed, then turned to Raphael. “He had everything planned.”

Chloe threw herself to the floor before the dais. “Luisa might be wounded, bleeding somewhere out there and in need of help. Please send someone to look for her.”

“Don’t listen to this bitch.” Rico was about to kick Chloe, but Rock stood before him.

“You won’t dare touch another brother’s old lady, would you?” Rock hissed. “Chloe reported Luisa was missing as soon as she realized the girl hadn’t come back.”

“You should’ve sent me to Enclosure as it was my job to check—” Rico addressed Tancredi.

“You forget your place, Rico.” When Rico made to apologize, Tancredi shut him up with a withering glance. “You also forget I could’ve decided to let you shift in your cell as I should have, but decided to let you run with the others instead.” He then nodded at one of the guards. “Fetch the driver.”

In the tense silence that followed, Raphael studied first Rock then Chloe, hoping he could find a clue in his stoic attitude and her desperation. A nervous-looking werewolf was let in next, and trembling like a leaf he was pushed before Tancredi.

“You signed the ledger and accounted all the girls in your van when you left yesterday night, correct?” Tancredi asked the newcomer.

“Yes, I followed protocol.” The guy shook harder.

Tancredi played with his cufflinks. “Were you high when you followed protocol?” His voice was mellow, almost hypnotic.

“No, of course not—” the guy hurried to say as his eyes went to Chloe for the briefest of glances.

“Are you sure? Because I was told by another driver you looked high when you arrived at Enclosure,” Tancredi said.

Chloe kept crying without making a sound.

The driver violently shook his head. “No, no… no, I mean yes, I’m sure I wasn’t—”

“I’ll ask you only one more time.” Tancredi’s voice became cold. “Were you high last night?”

The guy didn’t answer this time, but hunched over, his eyes to the floor.

“Were you high while transporting girls from my harem?” The alpha had lowered his voice and the result was frightening.

The driver broke and started babbling, “I found a dose on my seat, I swear—”

“You found a dose on your seat. Just like that.” Tancredi flattened his palm over his thigh.

“It’s the truth.” Between sobs, the guy went on saying, “But I wasn’t impaired, I swear. The girls were all accounted for when we left.”

“The one time you have to drive solo and you decide to drink V.” Tancredi cleared his throat with a tsk. “And you lie about finding it on your seat. Get out.” With a flick of his wrist, he set the guards in motion. “The usual punishment.”

The driver was dragged away, crying and begging to be spared the twenty lashes Tancredi had decreed for him.

When silence was restored, suddenly animated, Rico pointed at Raphael once again. “He gave him the V.”

Raphael opened his arms to the side. “After I left the infirmary, I went straight to my room, left to eat, then came back to vomit and never left until I was called downstairs. There, I got in line like everyone else and you saw me.”

Rico shook his head. “You must’ve found a way.”

“How?” His stance straighter, Raphael walked closer to Rico.

Rico stared down at Raphael. “I don’t know how, but I know you helped her escape.”

“Whatever.” Done with Rico, Raphael shrugged and turned toward Tancredi, who was now leaning against the back of his chair with one leg crossed over the other, his foot lazily dangling.

A small smile tugged at the alpha’s lips and he tilted his chin toward Rock. “Tell me, Rock, is it true that you saw Raphael sneaking out of the building the night before yesterday?”

While the world around him froze, Raphael’s heart started galloping in his chest, and he watched the scene unfold as if from a distance.

Rico perked up, his eyes lit in cruel joy. From the floor, Chloe stopped crying and straightened her back as she turned slightly to look at Rock.

Rock folded his arms before him. “Yes, I was in the monitor room when he walked by one of the external cameras on the terrace—”

One of the external cameras on the terrace. Raphael had forgotten about them.

“I saw him entering the greenhouse and exiting it a few minutes later,” Rock added, but Raphael almost didn’t hear him above the din of his blood rushing against his ears. “Then he realized he had closed himself out and climbed down the spiral staircase, triggering the perimeter light.”

Rock had barely finished talking, when Rico grabbed Raphael by the lapels of his jacket. “You went to the terrace to meet the bitch, didn’t you?”

“Let me go.” Raphael swung his arm to the side to hit Rico, but Rock first stopped him then pried Raphael from Rico’s hands.

“I don’t know if he went to the terrace other times to see that girl, but he was alone the other night.” Rock looked at Tancredi when Rico strode toward him, chest inflated and viciously snarling.

“I know. He was seen with the girl. I was told by one of the security guys.” At the last moment, Rico veered toward Raphael.

“Rico.”

At Tancredi’s call, Rico settled for a last growl, but stopped before hitting Raphael who was ready to fight back.

“You’re all dismissed,” the alpha said after another awkward moment. “You, Rico, have tried my nerves one time too many, and you clearly don’t know how to keep what’s yours.”

The guards escorted Rico out, Rock walked Chloe to the harem, and Raphael was left alone with the alpha.

“Stay,” Tancredi commanded the moment Raphael bowed and made to turn. “If you’re hiding something from me, I suggest you talk now.”

Raphael’s legs were suddenly made of jelly and his heart that had just slowed down sped up again. But the thought that Luisa had not been found finally registered in his mind, and that gave him the strength for yet another of his lies. “I’ve nothing to hide.”

Tancredi canted his head and his nostrils flared. “Your tendency to covet what’s not yours ends now.”

“Yes, sir.” Raphael bowed and was finally allowed to leave.

Later, back in his bedroom, Raphael sunk to the floor and let the tears fall. Whatever had happened, Rock had lied for him, and Chloe had probably drugged the driver to confuse him about the number of girls in the van. But most of all, Luisa had escaped the Reds.

When the day after Tancredi summoned the gang to the hall, the whole compound became silent. Rumors had spread and inflated, and wild stories were being told. The alpha, wearing only a pair of jeans, sat on his throne and kept the audience on tenterhooks for several minutes. The smell of incenses burning in two copper braziers by the side of the throne wafted over the room. As if he had not a care in the world, Tancredi kept looking at the burning coals, one hand wrapped around an iron rod. Then, when anxiety and curiosity mixed, he gave his pronouncement regarding the facts leading to Luisa’s escaping.

With a few words, Tancredi first banished the driver for disrespecting the Red code of conduct. Then he called Rico to the dais. “If you had taken better care of your property and not lost your head, you wouldn’t have challenged your little brother. Had you not disgraced yourself in the cage, you would’ve run with the harem. As a direct result of your negligence and short temper, we have one fugitive. Every action, Rico, has a consequence” He raised the rod to show it was a branding iron, and plunged it into the brazier.

Several of the younger recruits gasped. The older brothers shuffled their feet, but no one uttered a word to save Rico from the horrible punishment. Rico’s eyes widened and some of his usual cockiness deserted him. Shoulders hunched, he kneeled by Tancredi.

“Remove your shirt,” the alpha ordered, and Rico obeyed, remaining with his back bare and exposed for the iron.

To his credit, Rico didn’t beg to be spared.

Raphael winced when Rico’s flesh sizzled and burnt, and he felt nauseous at the familiar smell. His hand automatically went to the spot on the side of his rib where his father had pushed a lit cigarette.

****

A week later, Rico was released from solitary and dragged Raphael to the gym, where he used him like a punching bag for the best part of an hour.

“You disgraced me, but mark my words, one day I’ll make you and that bitch pay,” Rico said before leaving Raphael bleeding all over the cage.

Before fainting, Raphael rejoiced at the notion that Luisa was free from his big brother. A few hours later, Rock found him and called Guts.

“Why did you let him beat you like this?” Rock asked Raphael after Guts had patched him up and left. “I saw you fighting, and there’s no way he could’ve done so much damage and get away without a scratch.”

Raphael couldn’t help but smile. “The man needed a victory.”

He had counted the hours for Rico to get out of solitary and seek him out. The werewolf had been denied his pound of flesh for too long. Raphael knew if he had tried to hit back with too much conviction, Rico would have gone for the kill and damn the consequences. His big brother was a wounded animal and Raphael was the one with the brain and a good reason to live.

“There’re days I regret having let you in that night.” Rock helped him up and walked Raphael to his bedroom. “Do you want to know something funny? I don’t use V.”

“Why did you ask me to get some for you then?” Raphael flinched as he pressed a hand over a bruised rib.

Rock rolled his eyes. “Because I figured it would be next to impossible for a scrawny kid like you to pull it off.”

At his bedroom door, Rock raised his right hand to his temple in a mock salute, but Raphael hesitantly touched his arm and stopped him. “Thank you…”

“You have nothing to thank me for, pup.” With a sad smile, Rock pressed his big hand over Raphael’s and gently squeezed it. “Maybe, one day I’ll tell you about my brother.” His eyes became distant for a second, then he added, “But for now, please stay out of trouble.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Chapter Fifteen

No news of Luisa transpired in the following days, and soon life at the Red compound went back to normal. Meanwhile, Raphael’s tactic to let Rico unleash his wrath worked.

A whole month passed after that first beating, but finally one morning the werewolf knocked on Raphael’s door to announce they would resume their training that night. Raphael forced a, “Thank you,” out of his mouth and tried to sound deferential while at it.

That night, he endured round after round of punches and kicks without complaining. As he had every other day for the last thirty, when Rico had stalked him for a repeat lesson in humility—the werewolf’s definition of kicking someone senseless in a dark corner. But Raphael’s silence over the constant bullying had granted him the truce he needed, and he was glad his plan had worked.

The next morning, Rico doubled Raphael’s deliveries and he didn’t say a word. Raphael was even asked to work on Sundays, but he didn’t care. All he cared was for Rico to feel he had complete power over him. The more insignificant Raphael looked to Rico, the more freedom he had to move around.

Meanwhile, Raphael prepared for when he would meet Luisa again. Although he wasn’t paid much—the Reds gave him a pitiable weekly allowance despite his hard work—Raphael saved every cent to buy two cell phones and prepaid cards. He put aside what was left to buy gas when the time would come for a field trip out of Rome.

Yet another month had to pass before Raphael could visit RYS and check if Luisa was there.

One warm day at the beginning of June, finally his delivery schedule allowed for a break long enough for Raphael to drive his Monster at breakneck speed through the Roman countryside and reach the shelter.

Once there, still wearing his helmet, but having taken care to remove the jacket with the Red insignia, he ventured inside the main house. He was relieved to see that neither one of the two women at the front desk was a familiar face from when he used to live there. He removed the helmet, and smiled a wide smile at the older of the two receptionists. “I’m here to see a friend of mine. Her name’s Luisa and she’s a werewolf.”

Deliberately, he didn’t start by asking if Luisa was there. His heart simply didn’t allow him that line of reasoning. She must be at RYS. If she wasn’t he wouldn’t know what to do, and that he couldn’t afford. All the while, he played with his long straight hair, coiling and uncoiling a strand in his fingers. He was all, “Ma’am and please,” and dimples, while he was dying inside.

“Luisa Caroli?” the woman asked.

Raphael almost didn’t answer, then he managed a nod trying to hide the array of emotions he felt. His heart thumped so loud, he was sure everyone could hear his heartbeats.

“Sure, sign here—” The woman extended a tablet toward him on which he scribbled his name with a shaking hand, then she motioned for him to follow her. A moment later, he was led to the internal courtyard where the younger kids played. “She’s helping with the small ones.” She indicated a corner where several boys and girls made a tight circle around someone who was sitting.

“Luisa, you’ve a visitor.” At the woman’s call, the kids turned and broke the circle revealing the petite form of Luisa. The woman smiled at Raphael, and patted his arm as she left.

After two months of constant anxiety over her wellbeing, finally seeing her was too much to bear for Raphael. Happiness invaded him and he cried tears of relief.

“Raphael—” She stood, gently releasing to the floor the toddler she was hugging. The kid attached himself to her leg as she walked toward Raphael.

“Luisa—” In a few strides, he was at her side, wanting nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her, but refrained before the young crowd and the adults he knew were nearby watching on them. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She raised one hand toward his face, and softly caressed his jaw before dropping it to the side.

“I can’t stay.” He saw the light in her eyes dim, and wished he could make everyone disappear for just a moment and give them some privacy. “I came as soon as I could. I had to see you.”

“I wanted to let you know I was safe, but I didn’t know how—” She moved closer, and he could feel her warmth.

“I got something for you.” Still shaking, he reached his rear pocket and grabbed one of the cell phones he had bought and two of the prepaid cards. “I’ll text you when I’m back in my room tonight.”

When she reached for the phone their fingers brushed and his breath hitched, sending his already too sensitive nerve endings in overdrive. “It hurts to be away from you…”

“I need you.” Luisa’s lips became pinker and her eyes darkened as she stepped even closer.

The alarm he had set on his cell phone chimed and he swore. Without traffic, it was a three-hour roundtrip from Rome to reach the shelter and back, and he had a delivery scheduled with only minutes to spare. If he botched the delivery there would be hell to pay, and he couldn’t afford to have his comings and goings too strictly supervised. “I promise I’ll come back for the next full moon and we’ll spend a whole night together.”

With a willpower he didn’t know he had, he forced himself to step away from Luisa and drove back to Rome.

Later that night, they spent hours texting to each other. And so they did for the next three weeks, as he impatiently waited for their reunion. Calling her from the Reds’ was too dangerous—the bedroom walls were too thin and someone could hear him talking—and he didn’t have time to spare during the day. So, they messaged back and forth. Sometimes they talked until dawn, and the day after Raphael was so tired he had to caffeinate himself to stay upright on his bike. Even though he started every texting session with a promise to himself not to stay up too late, once they started talking he didn’t care anymore.

Amidst the love notes and the pics they shared back and forth, they also talked about their days. During their very first nocturnal conversation, Raphael asked her what had happened after she jumped from the staircase and run away from the Reds.

L: Found the enforcers where you said they were.

L: Asked sanctuary.

L: A woman talked to me. A psychologist she said she was. She asked questions, but I didn’t say a thing.

L: They took me to RYS the same night.

L: What happened to you?

Raphael recounted the salient facts for her, but omitted Rico’s branding and the beatings that followed. They never spoke of that night again, too busy getting to know each other on a level that hadn’t been possible before.

R: When is your birthday?

L: Valentine’s Day.

R: Really?

L: Really. LOL

L: Yours?

R: January 19.

L: Edgar Allan Poe’s b-day.

R: Really?

L: Really. Big fan of his work.

R: Cool.

R: Favorite food?

L: Nutella.

R: Me too!

L: Favorite color?

R: Green, like your eyes.

R: Movie?

L: The Crow.

R: Haven’t seen that one.

L: Book?

R: I, Robot.

L: Haven’t read it.

R: I’ll read it to you.

L: When?

R: Soon.

L: Favorite scent?

R: Yours.

L: I dreamed you were with me in my bed.

R: Miss you.

L: Love you.

Talking to Luisa every night, made Raphael’s days bearable. Their “dates” gave him the energy to stand before Rico, and don’t flip the finger at him when the man added to his workload and berated him in the gym. As he planned his next full moon escapade, Raphael didn’t dare give his big brother any excuse to punish him more than he usually did.

The day before the full moon, Raphael gave Luisa extensive instructions for their rendezvous, then proceeded to talk with her the whole night. They were both too excited to finally see each other again and couldn’t sleep.

L: Our first run.

R: It’s going to be a blood moon.

L: I heard.

R: It’s going to be special.

L: We’ll be blessed by the Great Wolf and the Goddess.

R: Wolf’s whining to see yours.

L: Mine too.

R: Can’t wait.

The next day was torture for Raphael. He couldn’t focus on anything, but had to drive all over Rome and think of the excuse he had yet to fabricate to skip the communal run with the Reds. Despite he’d had three weeks to do so, nothing plausible had come to mind. Late nights, lack of sleep, and a daily workload that didn’t allow for lunch breaks were all conducive to mushy brains. He had formulated plenty of plans, but none sounded right. Of course, he didn’t have to run with the others, but it would have aroused Rico’s suspicion.

A last minute special delivery sanctioned by Tancredi himself sent Raphael to Latina, a city an hour south of Rome. Running on fumes, and six or five cups of espresso too many—he lost count after the first four—Raphael was driving back to Rome when the perfect opportunity presented itself. After rehearsing in his mind the words, he slowed to the sidewalk, grabbed the work cell phone and sent a text to Rico.

R: In Latina. Pierced tire.

Rico’s answer came a few minutes later.

Ass face: Tough luck. We’re not waiting for you. You’re on your own.

With a smile and feeling much lighter, Raphael eased the bike back into traffic and drove to Reserve and Luisa. Once there, he skirted RYS main house, navigated along the path bordering the property, entered the woods, and only parked when he was far away from the shelter, but close enough to Reserve and unable to continue with the bike. He then hiked for more than an hour to reach the crest from where he could see the spot he had chosen to meet with Luisa.

There, he waited for the moon to rise in the night sky, squatting on his haunches. Barely able to keep still, he trained his eyes on the plain below. A cool breeze caressed the high grass and it tickled his nostrils. After what felt like an eternity, RYS buses started pulling over on the clearing before the fenced area of the reserve set aside for the shelter.

The kids were separated back at the shelter. Wolves with wolves. Pumas with pumas. Every shifter group with its own. It made sense to organize them by species to avoid violence when they all ran amok along the plains and ridges of Reserve.

From his perch, hidden in the shadow of a centenary oak, Raphael watched as the first bus opened its doors and a dozen of kids ran out of it, filling the night with laughter. They weren’t werewolves. A second bus spilled its content of happy kids into the night, but yet again they belonged to another species. Only when the shifters from the fourth bus emerged, his nose caught werewolf scent. He scanned the group, but not one of them smelled like Luisa.

Despair possessed Raphael as minutes passed and the night progressed. Howls and barks echoed into the clearing. The moon was higher in the sky and rapidly changing color. From pale silver it had matured into a rich yellow, then the yellow had blossomed into a deep orange, and now it was mutating toward the expected deep red. When he had heard it would be a blood moon, he had rejoiced that he and Luisa would have their first run on such a portentous night.

To have the blessing from the Great Wolf and the Goddess on a rare blood moon sure meant their tribulations were to be over soon. But Luisa was nowhere to be seen, and the moon would wait for no one. With growing dejection, he squinted and inhaled gulps of nocturnal air hoping to sense her among the shifters running toward their corrals. Almost half an hour went by and Raphael felt the first pangs of the imminent shift mixing with bitter tears. When he wasn’t texting with Luisa at night, he dreamed about their first run. To be robbed of something he had anticipated since the first time he had met her was too painful to bear.

When he was about to turn and run into the forest to let his wolf out along with his anguish, a fifth bus slowed to a stop beside the others. His heart told him she had finally arrived before his nose and then his eyes confirmed it. As pain had filled him a moment earlier and moved him to howl, now happiness governed his actions.

Closer to his animal form, all his senses and emotions were amplified as he watched her emerge from the bus. With fast steps, the small figure that was Luisa walked away from her mates. His wolf was ready for the run, but Raphael used all his willpower to keep him in check a moment longer. Although physical pain shot through him as he denied the shift, he wanted to be sure to be near Luisa when he changed—so their wolves wouldn’t waste time looking for each other—but he couldn’t be caught by the supervisors and sent away.

The more he waited on that perch, the more his anticipation grew, and so did his pain until he couldn’t stand it anymore. The lure of her sweet scent intensified when she finally looked up toward the oak. Her whole body went still when she recognized him, and despite the large distance their eyes locked.

Moving stealthily, Raphael left the security of the big tree and descended toward the clearing. Even in his altered state, he made sure to keep downwind so that he wouldn’t alert the adults swarming the plain after their charges. The red glow from the moon bathed everything, and he hoped he would reach her before they both started shifting. He wanted a moment alone with Luisa to kiss her soft lips and tell her how much their first run together meant to him, before their wolves would claim the night.

Werewolf kids usually had their parents teach them about shifting. When the time came for the adolescent shifters to go through their first change, their parents made sure they wouldn’t be alone. Later, the young werewolves would spend their monthly runs frolicking around with friends. And if lucky, with their love interests. Adults frowned upon that practice among underage shifters, but all of them had done it when they were young and it was considered a rite of passage of sort. Like drinking for the human kids.

Raphael had never had any of that. No loving father carefully easing his son into the way of the werewolves. No explanation for his mood swings and urges, or for the vivid dreams he used to have when ten years old. His first shift had been terrifying. His wolf, a cub like himself, had been scared by everything. Raphael had vomited for hours the morning after. His father had first beaten him, then ordered him to clean his mess.

This run with Luisa was his first at something he had never had before. For that, he was highly excited and at the same time equally terrified something, anything could go wrong. His senses in overdrive and his heart exploding, he took in everything, from the night dewy scents to the bats’ whooshing wings cutting the thermals. The colors were brighter and the smells richer. The breeze caressing his exposed skin was cold and he welcomed it because he was melting from the inside out, burning to be reunited with his mate.

In the midst of Raphael’s chaotic thoughts, a dark shadow moved at the periphery of his sight. Something, someone ran through the clearing. Following Raphael’s instructions, Luisa had separated from the rest of her group and now stood by the very edge of their designated shifting space. Raphael had told her to get closer to the fence by the northern side of the clearing, because he remembered about the ridge and the big oak tree on top of it from his previous stints at RYS. With freezing clarity, he realized how he had put her in danger with his request.

Agonizing fear for Luisa finally forced the shifting, and his wolf claimed his rightful place under the blood moon. While in that middle plane, where he was both Raphael and the wolf, he saw the shadow take a definite shape. A blink of an eye later, a big familiar red-brown wolf attacked Luisa while she was changing. Raphael tried to warn her about Rico, but his mouth had already transformed into a muzzle and he could only howl.

She. Danger. Run. Fast.

Run.

Evil. After her.

Run faster.

Hill.

Trees. Trees. Trees.

Faster.

Water. Strong pull.

Evil hide.

Water.

Trees.

Hill.

Her scent less.

Hill. Down. Up. Water. Trees.

Far away.

Wolf too slow.

Lost them.

Run. Run. Run.

Faster.

Run.

Too many of us.

Too many scents.

Moon no more.

Wolf no more.

You run.

You find her.

Save her.

At the first lights of the new day, Raphael found himself changing back in the middle of the clearing, among shifters kids who looked at him with curiosity. He wasn’t in the werewolf compound anymore. Somehow, during the night, his wolf had chased after Rico’s, but he must have not found him or Luisa’s. Raphael would never know what had happened. The place had looked like a zoo, with shifters all over the place.

Eventually, Raphael had ended up in the were-puma corral. He looked for the ridge and the oak tree to reorient himself and ran toward the werewolf area. Dizzy and dehydrated, he pushed his legs forward when all he had energy for was to collapse on the grass and sleep. He had to jump over fences and wade several streams of freezing cold water, but he didn’t stop.

All around, he could see buses loading up kids. He had to see Luisa before she left. He had to know she was okay. Bile rising up from his stomach, he swore. Not sure how, but he knew it must be his fault that Rico had found Luisa.

When he finally reached her bus, the adults were anxious to leave but were waiting for the lazy kids to get back to the clearing. Furtively, he moved around the vehicle, looking up at the glass windows for a glimpse of Luisa. He found her sitting at the end of the bus, her face between her knees.

“Luisa!” he called her, but she remained still and that scared him.

Her sense of hearing was as fine as his, as of that of any werewolf worth his fur. When she didn’t react to his second call, he jumped and slammed his open palm against the glass by her side. Alerted by the ruckus he was making, the supervisors rushed to see what was happening.

“Luisa, baby. Look at me, please.” Raphael already knew the run had gone terribly wrong, but when Luisa finally raised her face and looked down at him, he felt his rage surge. With a low curse, he punched the side of the bus.

She was crying. That by itself would have broken his heart, but the redness in her eyes wasn’t due to tears. Luisa was high on vampire blood.

“Don’t come back,” she mouthed from behind the glass.

“Hey, you! What are you doing here?” one of the adults shouted as he ran toward Raphael.

A second supervisor hurried to help the first, but stopped in his tracks when he had a better look at Raphael. “Hey, do I know you—?”

Raphael recognized the man. He was Mr. Tarsi, one of the adults who had treated him with dignity during both his times at the shelter.

“Raphael, is that you?” The man stepped closer, squinting against the rising sun.

Automatically, Raphael stepped back. He knew he had changed a lot since last time he had been at RYS and probably looked like a street gang poster child. He couldn’t afford to be reported to the authorities if he wanted to save Luisa from Rico. If he was sent to juvie, she would be at the mercy of the werewolf and no one would save her.

“I’ll come back as soon as I can,” he mouthed toward the glass as he gave her one last glance, then ran away.

Chapter Sixteen

Haunted by the disheartened look in her eyes and without any knowledge of how he had driven back to Rome, Raphael entered the Reds’ ready to confront Rico. High in adrenaline, rage, and despair, he strode through the halls looking for blood more than answers. During the ride, dark emotions had filled his heart and mind and he had forgotten all about staying out of trouble to keep Luisa safe. Had he found Rico, he would have attempted to kill him or die in the process.

“Rico!” Several knocks on Rico’s bedroom door went unanswered. Raphael was ready to tear down the door when a Red exited the adjacent room.

“No need to awake the dead. Rico’s been sent away,” the man said as he passed Raphael.

“Where to?”

“Something to do with the vampire business of a few months ago.” Without turning, the man waved his hand goodbye and disappeared behind the corner.

With a frustrated kick to the wall, Raphael swore a string of curses, drawing the attention of several Reds who had been otherwise minding their business. Then he went to his room, slammed his door close, dropped to the floor, and started texting Luisa who never answered, driving him crazy with worry on top of everything else.

Rock came by a few hours later. “The fact that your big brother isn’t here doesn’t mean you get to slack off.” He opened his mouth to say something else, pinched the bridge of his nose, then handed Raphael the schedule for the day without another word.

When Raphael’s mind cleared enough to be able to mount his bike and do what was expected from him, he also realized that with Rico out of the picture his workload was lighter.

Taking immediate advantage of the opportunity, the very next day he went back to RYS. At the front desk, he met one of the two women who had greeted him last time. “I’m here to see Luisa Caroli,” he announced without pleasantries.

Pen in hand, the woman looked down at a clipboard with a list of names on it. “And you are?”

The way she was drumming the pen against the paper didn’t bode well, but Raphael hoped he was imagining things. “Raphael Letta.”

After running the back of the pen up and down the paper twice, the woman found what she was looking for, then bit her lower lip. “Thought so.” She gave him a small shrug. “I’m sorry but Luisa put you on the no-enter list.”

“It’s not possible.”

“I’m afraid it is.” With a sympathetic expression, she raised the clipboard to let Raphael have a look at it.

And sure enough, his name was there, black on white.

The woman put the clipboard down. “I have to ask you to leave.”

“But I need to see Luisa.” Raphael lowered both hands on the desk with more force than he had intended to and the clipboard rattled to the side, startling the woman. “I apologize—”

“You should leave now.” She grabbed a telephone handset and started dialing a number.

“Please, let me see her. I need to know she’s okay. I need to tell her—”

“I got a situation at the front desk,” the woman said to the phone, her eyes trained on Raphael.

“Please—” He could see the two supervisors already approaching from the other end of the hall, and his hands fisted as his adrenaline spiked.

The woman raised her arm to the side and showed him the big glass door. “Leave before we have to apprehend you.”

Finally, her words registered in his mind and he realized how close he was to doing something stupid.

“Tell her I’ll be back,” he threw over his shoulder as he made a run for the exit.

Truthful to his promise—and thanks to Rico’s prolonged absence—Raphael went back to RYS once a week for a month. Had he had more money for gas, he would have driven there once a day, but his allowance didn’t amount to much.

Not that visiting more often would have made any difference. Luisa never answered any of the texts he sent her, and every time he checked at RYS the result was the same. She didn’t want to see him. The only silver lining was that the front desk staff took pity on him, and never put in practice their threats of reporting him to the authorities.

****

Rico finally came back in August, wreaking Raphael’s schedule, and once again limiting his freedom to go where he wanted and as he pleased.

Fortunately, a month had been enough for Raphael’s temper to cool down and made him see reason. After much thinking about what had happened the night of the blood moon, he had come to the conclusion that Rico hadn’t known Raphael was at the reserve. Otherwise, his big brother would have attacked and probably killed him.

One morning of the following week, still asleep ten minutes to seven, Raphael had woken, donned his clothes with his eyes still closed, and hurried to the ground floor to meet with Rico who was usually already there with Raphael’s daily schedule. As a result, he had been perfectly on time but hadn’t had breakfast or any coffee yet.

An hour later, Rock waved at him on his way to the gym.

Raphael waved back. “Hey, did you see Rico?”

With a frown, Rock answered, “Nope. He must be in his room. Something’s wrong?”

“Everything’s wrong. The SOB’s late and I’ll be the one paying for his laziness.” Raphael kicked the stool in front of him and stood.

“Mind your words when you talk about your big brother and calm down, pup.” Rock tilted his chin slightly toward the group of Reds who had just entered the room.

One of the men gave Raphael a raised eyebrow, and Raphael flipped the bird at him.

“Never mind, I’ll go find him myself.” Raphael took the stairs and ran up to the third floor, arriving at Rico’s bedroom with no breath left. Black dots swimming before his eyes, he stopped before the door and sat on his haunches. He couldn’t remember if he’d had any water at all. Judging from how much his head spun, maybe he hadn’t.

One hand raised to knock on the door, Raphael heard Rico talk.

“What do you mean she isn’t at RYS anymore?”

“I told you to keep an eye on the bitch.”

“She’s at Wolf’s Haven? Why is she at the rehab center?”

“Forget it. You’re useless to me now. I’ll find someone else.”

Raphael listened to the conversation in disbelief. A few of the pieces of the puzzle had finally fallen to place, and he didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry at the discovery he had just made. Collecting his thoughts, he prepared for the confrontation that couldn’t wait any longer.

When the door opened and a bewildered-looking Rico stormed out of his room, Raphael was ready.

“You—” Rico sputtered at Raphael’s sight.

“Good morning, big brother.” Leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded and ankles crossed, Raphael smiled.

Rico glared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was tired of waiting for you downstairs.”

“Time to start delivering goods already.” Rico motioned for him to move, but Raphael shifted to get more comfortable.

“I think we should talk first.”

With a snort, Rico took a step forward. “Are you in need of a good thrashing?”

“No, I’m not, but maybe you’d like one from Tancredi.” Raphael’s smile widened.

Next, Rico was at his side and grabbed Raphael by his collar, then slid his hands to his throat. “Have you gone mad or what?”

Despite Rico’s hold was cutting off his air, Raphael didn’t let panic rule his actions and words. “What will Tancredi say when I tell him you found Luisa and never informed him or brought her back here?” he croaked as he fought to remain conscious.

Rico’s fingers opened enough for Raphael to gasp.

“Have you been spying on me?” Rico’s eyes were shot with red. V red. First thing in the morning and the man was high on vampire blood. “I knew I had to get rid of you—”

“I have a proposition for you.”

“You are in no position to—”

His brain fast at work, Raphael found himself raising his cell phone before Rico. “I recorded your phone call and sent it to a friend of mine. Anything happens to me, the recording goes to Tancredi. If you don’t accept my offer, the recording also goes to Tancredi.” As Rico’s hands opened, Raphael stepped out of his reach. “So, what’s it going to be?”

Shrugging, Rico laughed. “You’re bluffing.”

Inside Raphael was shaking, but outside he kept his face neutral and his voice calm. “Only one way to find out.” Raphael held his cell phone higher and made to dial a number while he actioned the recorder for real. If anything, there would be a recording after all.

“Stop.” Rico’s hand reached out to snatch the phone from Raphael, but Raphael was faster and kept it out of Rico’s reach. “What do you want?”

“First, what is it that you want with Luisa?” Raphael slightly raised his voice.

People passed by and Raphael smiled at them.

Rico waited for them to be alone in the hallway again. “Let’s go inside my room to have this talk.”

Raphael shook his head and pointed at his phone, his finger on the screen. “I like it here.”

“Then lower your voice, for the Great Wolf’s sake!”

“Then start answering my question. What’s your business with Luisa and RYS?”

“One of the junkies I keep on retainer at RYS told me a bald girl arrived the day after the bitch escaped from here—”

“Why didn’t you report it to Tancredi?”

“Do you know how much he pays me for all the work I do for him? Next to nothing.”

“And?”

“Bringing back the bitch wouldn’t do a thing for me. But putting her to work on the other hand—”

“What kind of work?” Raphael’s stomach jumped up his throat at the possible scenarios.

“Look at you, all riled up for that small bitch. I still can’t understand what you see in her—”

“What kind of work do you need her for?” Raphael repeated with clenched teeth.

“I convinced her it was in her best interest to sell drugs at RYS for me.”

“Why her? You just said you have other kids working for you there.”

“Because the others don’t have a lot to lose and usually come and go from the shelter every few weeks. I told her if she wanted to remain there and never have to see the inside of the harem again she’d better deal for me. Or I would give her to one of the nastiest members and forget she even existed. I also mentioned I would kill you if she contacted you. Plus, I get to visit her once in a while to remind her of our deal.” Rico gave Raphael a nasty smile as he added, “She usually comes out of our meetings rather subdued, but no one is the wiser at the shelter.” He winked. “If you know what I mean.”

Murderous thoughts filled Raphael and his simmering anger resurfaced as he realized what Rico was referring to. The big brother was an expert in dealing blows and hits where they wouldn’t show, usually all over the stomach and legs. A fact Raphael knew for personal experience.

“See, that look on your face right now is priceless,” Rico taunted him. “It gives me so much satisfaction I should’ve thought to take a picture or two of my handiwork and damn the consequences.” His eyes lit with cruel joy as he continued, “So, what do you want?”

Close to the kind of rage from which there is no return, Raphael let thoughts of Luisa placate him enough to keep the negotiation going. “Leave her alone.”

“You gotta to be kidding.” Rico laughed. “You’re even crazier than I thought. She’s such a good seller, she’s making me rich.”

Raphael’s brain made another leap, and he slowed down his heartbeats so that his voice wouldn’t sound shaken. “If you don’t want Tancredi to know you’re stealing from him and using Luisa to sell for you—”

Rico was at Raphael’s throat again. “What did you just say?”

“You are stealing from the gang supply of V and selling it on the side.” Raphael saw in the way Rico’s right eye twitched that he had hit the target. “Since you’re the one supervising the deal with the vampires it must be easy for you to make vials disappear. I’m sure you’re discreet—” With every word he said—without succumbing to the urge of head-butting Rico and pummeling his groin with his fists and boots—Raphael gained back a measure of control over his raging beast calling for revenge.

“I deserve the money. I do everything for him. Everything. And what do I get in return? Nothing. No, worse than nothing. He humiliates me before the brothers. He marks me. Over you—” He spat on the floor. “A brat scheming and scamming to get cozy with the alpha. And Tancredi falls for your act. He defends you even.”

From the way Rico was talking faster and faster, Raphael knew he would come down from the V peak soon. People became unpredictable in that phase, often violent, but always irrational. Although he was recording every word the Red said, if Rico went on a rampage there was little Raphael could do to stop him.

“Leave Luisa alone and I won’t say a word. You’ll be free to conduct your business as you like.” Raphael locked eyes with Rico. “I promise I won’t interfere.”

Rico gave him a long stare, then frowned. “The bitch has several vials she hasn’t sold yet and the money from this week.”

“No problem. I’ll deliver them back to you. Money and V.”

In a stroke of luck, Tancredi appeared at the end of the hallway, heading their way. Rico stepped back from Raphael and gave him a warning look. Raising his eyebrow, Raphael tilted his chin toward his phone.

“What’s happening here?” the alpha demanded a few meters from them.

Rico turned to fully face Tancredi. “Nothing. We were just discussing a change in the pup’s delivery schedule, and he isn’t thrilled. That’s all.”

Tancredi turned to Raphael. “Do what your older brother says. We’ve a tight ship to run.”

Even though it cost him a great deal, Raphael lowered his head for the alpha’s sake. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m tired of having to babysit both of you. Next time rumors of you two arguing over something reach me, I’ll think of a punishment you’ll remember for the rest of your life.” Tancredi waited for them to acknowledge his threat, then walked away as briskly as he had come.

When the alpha was out of earshot, Rico grabbed Raphael’s elbow and dragged him behind a recess in the wall. “You’ll leave now for Wolf’s Haven, and if you aren’t back in three hours I’ll track you and that bitch down to the end of the world if necessary.” He squeezed Raphael’s skin until it hurt, then he released him with a snarl. “Plus, you’ll deliver for me.”

A few minutes later, Raphael was on his Monster speeding through the congested streets of Rome, devouring the melting asphalt to reach the rehab center. High on joy and very much delirious for the lack of food and liquids, he only saw the imaginary arrow leading him to Luisa.

An hour and an half ride was accomplished in less than fifty minutes. Only when Raphael entered the country road leading to the large clearing before Wolf’s Haven main building, he slowed his bike and realized he couldn’t pry his hands from the handle bars. He brought the Monster to a halt, but didn’t have time to think of what he would do next, because Luisa came out of the rehab center casolare and ran toward him.

Before he could remove his helmet, she was at his side and started pummeling at his chest, making the satchel she was wearing over one shoulder fly around. “What did you do? Why did Rico send you? I told you I didn’t want to see you anymore. You shouldn’t have come. Go back to Rome—”

He made a quick job of the helmet, hung it to the handle bar, then took both her hands in his and pressed her to him.

She tried to push him away, but he didn’t let her. “What are you doin—”

His mouth descended on her, then he freed her hands and hugged her tight. She stopped struggling against him right away. As he kissed her, his hands roamed all over her back, making her squirm in his arms.

“Never send me away again,” he whispered, nibbling at the lobe of her ear.

She sighed, “Raphael, please…”

“Never say you don’t want to see me ever again.” He lapped at her throat.

“I missed you.” She arched her neck, giving him better access.

“I’ll never give up on us.” With his teeth he gently scratched the skin on her throat, the urge to mark her so strong it scared him. “I’d do anything to be with you.”

“Please, don’t say that—”

He pressed his teeth where her throat met her shoulder for a playful bite, but heat and need engulfed him as if lightening had run through him at once. “I. Need. You.” His wolf nature calling to him, he alternated each word with a nip. At the last one, he came close to puncture her skin with his canines and her gasp awakened him from the haze.

“I love you.” He bumped his forehead with hers and sighed.

They remained silent for a few seconds, their chests rising and falling as if they had run a marathon. Then in the distance bell tolls announced the hour, and Raphael was reminded he didn’t have much time. “I guess that Rico called you and that you have something for me.”

Her eyes went to the satchel and she nodded. “What did you do?”

In a few words, he told her how he had struck a deal with his big brother, then it was time for him to ask questions. “How did you end up at the rehab center?”

“Rico forces me to drink V whenever he visits me. I’ve tried to hide it from my roommate, but I haven’t been careful enough and she’s found out anyway. Laura is a good friend and I was worried Rico would do something to her and so I pushed her away and it kind of backfired. Trying to help me, Laura told one of the counselors and I was sent here.”

Holding her face in his hands, Raphael looked into her eyes. “And how are you now?”

“I haven’t seen Rico in a week—”

She let the rest of the sentence trail, but he could see all the little signs that made her a recovering addict. Paler than she used to be even though she was now free to be outside, and even slimmer. With a swipe of his thumb over her small wrist, he found the ridges of her last cuts.

“I’ll kill him one day.” He brought her hands to his lips and planted a soft kiss on each of her wrists.

“Don’t waste your thoughts on him.” She freed one hand to reach for the back of his head and lowered his face so that she could whisper to his mouth, “You’re my everything. I wouldn’t survive if anything happened to you.” Her lips gently brushed his. “Now go, please.” She leaned away, then shrugged down the satchel from her shoulder and passed it to him. “Everything’s inside.”

Automatically grabbing the bag he let it slide on his shoulder and pushed it to his back, all the while keeping his eyes on hers. “Do you still have the cell phone?”

“Always on me.” She patted her jeans pocket where a small bulge tented the fabric. “I know all your texts by heart—”

“Never shut me out like that again. It drove me crazy.” His arms circled her and he pressed her to him, resting his chin on her head.

She snuggled closer. “Rico promised to hurt you and I had to keep you away to protect you from doing something—”

“I know, but not talking to you is worse than a beating.” He shifted to brush her forehead. “Not seeing you is worse than getting ink.” His lips lowered to her nose, then he reached for her mouth for a long, thorough kiss that had both of them panting when he finally let her go. “Not touching you is worse than dying.”

The buzz from a cell phone text startled them in the middle of another kiss.

“It’s him.” Luisa’s eyes widened in fear as she reached for a different pocket and retrieved a second phone. “He gave me this cell.” She showed him the text.

Rico: Did you give my stuff to the pup?

“He won’t be able to hurt you again. I promise.” With a final peck on her lips, Raphael grabbed the helmet, wore it, and mounted the Monster.

As he turned on the engine, she threw her arms around his neck. “Be safe.”

With a nod, he revved the engine. “I’ll text you later.”

Chapter Seventeen

August passed in a haze for Raphael, and so did the following months.

Taking advantage of his truce with Rico—who was more and more addled by his addiction to V—Raphael was able to take three-hour launch breaks at least once a week. Enough time only to reach the rehab center and drive back to Rome in the nick of time before the next delivery, but he would have done it twice a day just to have a glimpse of Luisa. During those escapades, he became intimately acquainted with the Wolf’s Haven geography and all the nooks and crannies he and Luisa could disappear into for a few minutes of stolen bliss.

Raphael barely realized fall was gone when winter arrived, and by that time he had had enough of those fleeting meetings with Luisa and started planning their escape from Rico, from the Reds, and from Rome.

Two weeks after his eighteenth birthday, one frigid night in February in the middle of the carnival revelries, Tancredi threw a Carnevale party to raise the gang’s battered spirit after one botched deal with a rival gang. At the same time, the alpha announced he would introduce a few new acquisitions to the harem.

Not interested in the celebration, Raphael had hoped to call it a night and disappear in his bedroom after dinner. On his way out of the dining room, he was about to text Luisa when Rico’s big paw slapped him on his back.

“Here he is, my bright little brother.” Rico’s voice was loud and already slurred. He was one of the Reds who came back from the deal with his tail between his legs and in a foul mood, fouler than usual.

Several people turned, sensing a brawl in the making. Lately, Rico had provided more nocturnal entertainment than the cable. A few nights earlier that week, he had disrupted a fight tournament by entering the cage to kick and punch both opponents. It had taken five men to forcefully remove him from the ring, and he had kept screaming to the top of his lungs, “I can take you all.” Tancredi wasn’t present and no one officially complained to the alpha, so Rico got away with a hangover and several bruises.

“What’s up, big brother?” Feigning he wasn’t disgusted by the stench of alcohol emanating from Rico was hard—it reminded him too much of his father—but Raphael kept his gag reflex under control.

“Let’s go have some fun together.” With his arm firmly placed over Raphael’s shoulder, Rico steered him toward the stairs.

“It’s okay. You go.” Lowering his shoulder, Raphael tried to pry himself away from the werewolf.

“Still pining after that little bitch are you?” Rico said out loud, effectively gaining the interest of the few who hadn’t been listening in on them yet.

The whole room was now waiting to hear Raphael’s answer, and he saw the calculating light in Rico’s eyes. The man wasn’t as drunk as he wanted the others to believe and more dangerous for it.

With a grin, Raphael fell back in position and patted Rico’s hand dangling from his shoulder. “You know what, why not? Let’s have fun.”

Something dark flashed before Rico’s eyes, but he soon recovered and scampered ahead. “If you play your cards right, I might even let you have a drop or two from my stash.”

“Can’t wait.”

Once in the ceremonial hall on the fourth floor, Rico made a beeline for the bar where he got two shots of vodkas and offered one to Raphael who declined at first.

“You must drink.” Rico pushed the glass into Raphael’s hand, and Raphael gulped it down to silence the man before he could say something else. A moment later, Rico reached for the internal pocket in his jacket and furtively brought a small vial to his lips after removing the lid. “Shhh—” He put two fingers on his mouth before hiding back the drug. “You didn’t see anything, pup.”

“See what?” He counted on Rico getting high on V. The werewolf would hide his sorry self somewhere else to ride his high, and Raphael would be finally free to text Luisa for the rest of the night.

Rico guffawed and slammed his hand over Raphael’s stomach. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“If you say so.” Swallowing the bile Rico’s mere existence caused, Raphael forced a smile for the rapt audience that had followed them upstairs.

The hall soon filled to the brim. The whole gang, little and big brothers, was present and ready to unwind with booze and an eyeful of the new girls. Among cheers and whistles, Tancredi finally summoned the harem. To Raphael’s relief, Rico’s focus was diverted toward the new acquisitions coming in. One of them attracted his attention, and he left Raphael behind to reach her at the other side of the room. The new girl, a curvaceous brunette maybe slightly older than Raphael, looked up at Rico and her eyes widened as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him for a forceful kiss.

The vodka shot fueled Raphael’s ever-present disgust for Rico and transformed it in something dangerous, a call to action that propelled his feet forward.

“Don’t touch me.” The girl jerked her arm free from Rico, enraging him.

Raphael was a few meters away when Rico slapped the brunette hard and sent her to the floor.

“How dare you talk back to me, you bitch—” Rico removed the belt from his pants and doubled it. “I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget.” Metal studs shaped like wolf skulls with fangs decorated the wide strip of leather.

At the sight of the belt raised to strike the girl, Raphael forgot all about caution and put himself between her and Rico.

“Move out of the way.” Eyes red and labored breath, Rico stepped forward and slammed his chest against Raphael’s.

“Leave her alone.” As the crowd closed around them, Raphael realized his mistake but it was too late to back off and he wouldn’t have let Rico beat a defenseless girl in any case.

Rock arrived a moment later and made sign for Raphael to step away, but Raphael ignored him.

Rico’s eyes darted sideways, taking in the audience and Rock standing by the edge. “Move. Out. Of. The. Way.”

His night ruined, Raphael sighed and pressed forward. “I can’t.”

“What did I tell the two of you?” Tancredi emerged through the parting crowd, one flute in his hand and one girl at his elbow.

Rico turned and slightly bowed to the alpha, once again showing more judgement than any impaired person should have shown. “The new girl disrespected me and it’s within my rights to punish her, but the pup got in the middle.”

“Is that so?” Tancredi asked Raphael, but the consensus from the crowd silenced whatever excuse Raphael was about to concoct.

“Everyone saw what happened.” Rico’s satisfied tone was hard to ignore even with the ruckus made by the audience.

Tancredi’s displeasure at the situation was conveyed by a raised eyebrow and a low intake of breath. With his eyes on Raphael the whole time, he gave the flute to the girl at his side, strolled to Rico, seized the belt from him with an audible snap, then addressed Raphael, “Take the belt and give the girl five lashes for her impudence.”

The room plummeted to silence, and Raphael’s stomach folded into itself. He knew what was coming and yet couldn’t help but shake his head. “I can’t hit a girl.”

“What did you say, pup?” Tancredi stepped closer and pushed the belt at him.

“I can’t hit a girl,” Raphael repeated louder, refusing the leather.

Tancredi’s eyes darkened and a vein throbbed on his temple, rage reverberating in his words as he said, “Then you’ll get her lashes plus fifteen for disobeying my order.” He dropped the belt into Rico’s hands and left.

“You heard the alpha.” Rico walked around Raphael, his chest inflating at every turn. “Remove your jacket and let’s get it over with, so I can enjoy my night with that bitch.”

“I’m sorry,” Raphael mouthed to the girl as he removed his jacket and his shirt.

Two brothers came to walk him to the podium opposite the alpha throne at the other end of the hall, which usually was kept in the dark and unused. There, his hands were shackled over his head to a hook dangling from the ceiling. Detached from reality already, he realized one of the braziers overhead had been removed for the occasion. Tancredi watched him from far away.

“We don’t want to ruin you wings now, do we?” Rico positioned himself before Raphael. “I think I’ll split your punishment so that you’ll get the majority of the lashes on your front. What do you think?”

Hanging like dead meat, Raphael shrugged. “Whatever.”

Readying his hand, Rico gave him a smile. “Even if you don’t deserve it, I’m feeling magnanimous and I’ll spare your face.”

True to his word, the werewolf hit Raphael twenty times without once reaching farther than his shoulders. Rico powered through the motion, and as the studded belt whistled in the air every blow landed heavier on Raphael. The sickening sound of flesh being tore apart echoed in the room. Toward the end, Rico’s grunts mixed with the screams Raphael couldn’t keep inside any longer. The crowd kept count, and by the last lash blood was smeared all over Raphael’s back and chest, and it had also sprayed over Rico and the podium. The moment Rock freed him from the hook keeping him upright, he collapsed on his knees, only to be supported by the wolf’s capable arms.

“Now you can go to your room to lick your wounds.” Raphael heard Rico say.

The crowd opened for Raphael, and Rock helped him to walk away from the hall.

When they were on the landing, Rock turned sideways and locked eyes with Raphael. “It isn’t safe for you to stay here tonight. Do you have anywhere else I can drive you?”

Keeping his focus on Rock was hard, but Raphael first nodded then asked, “Why?”

“I just saw Rico signaling one of his friends and I don’t know what he’s up to, but it wouldn’t be the first time he strikes an opponent when he’s down. Remember the brother you mentioned when you first arrived here? The one you bested?”

A thick fog was descending upon Raphael and he had a hard time following Rock. “No, I don’t—” Although, a faint memory of a bicycle chase and the image of a burly man with a tear tattoo floated in his mind.

“No one among the littles does, because Rico made him disappear overnight. It was just before you arrived. They were seen arguing over something, and the next morning Marzio had left and was never found.” Rock exhaled and brought one hand to his hair. “There were rumors he had crossed Rico—”

“Okay, I hear you.” His eyes heavy, Raphael turned and caught the hard glare from Rico several meters away in the hall. Rock was right. His big brother wasn’t done with him. “Milvio Bridge.”

“What?”

“Take me down to Milvio Bridge underpass.”

“What’s there?”

“An abandoned barge. I used to live there.”

Rock drove him in one of the gang’s SUVs and Raphael lost consciousness a few times during the ride.

“Will you be okay?” Rock had parked in one of the narrow streets by the bridge and was looking down at the rundown barge.

Leaning over the parapet, Raphael nodded. “I only need to rest.”

“I can’t stay with you.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Raphael walked to the staircase landing, grabbed the railing with both hands, and awkwardly descended the first step toward the riverbank. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

In two steps, Rock was at his side. “Don’t disappear from Rome. I’ll cover for you for tonight and tomorrow because I know Rico has planned something, but Tancredi will send all his guards after you if you run away. Give me time to work out something with Rico. I might convince the alpha to remove you from under him and put you in my care.”

Talking with Tancredi was futile. Refusing to obey an order of his in public had been Raphael’s downfall, and both Raphael and Rock knew it. Nevertheless, Raphael appreciated the sentiment behind Rock’s actions and words. “See you tomorrow.” He even gave the werewolf the thumbs up before leaving.

Dragging his legs down the stairs, Raphael reached the riverbank, and waved his hand up at Rock who was standing watch on the bridge. Next, he walked toward the barge, climbed the jetty, and entered the boat, only to exit the musty place as soon as Rock moved out of sight. Raphael still waited a moment to see if the wolf was lingering nearby, then, with great effort, reached for one of the Promenade entries hidden under the bridge.

From there, he moved in a trance as if trawling underwater, putting one foot before the other, only thinking of slowing down his breathing to save energy. Worried to reach his destination before fainting, he followed the River Styx bends unconcerned of the looks people sent his way. The slow flow of the dark waters of the river had always soothed him, but not now.

At the first opportunity, he left the main trail and entered the system of tunnels that stretched under Rome for kilometers. Wary of entering Magik Nation by mistake, he kept to the side of the underworld that had once belonged to the catacombs, lengthening the walk by several minutes. The wall of rock hiding the Den of Rejects loomed ahead of him when his legs finally gave away and he collapsed to the ground.

Warm hands and worried voices touched Raphael, and he opened his eyes to see Angel’s face hovering over his. In a moment of sudden lucidity and acting in automatic, he hastily removed his jacket, reversed it inside out, then folded it in two.

“What happened to you?” Angel oscillated in and out of focus.

“Rough night.” Raphael’s eyes wouldn’t stay open, and he kept blinking as he tried to stand.

“Stay put, Paride and I will take care of you.”

Another set of strong arms circled Raphael, who tilted his head to look at Paride staring back at him with a worried expression on his face. “It looks worse than it is. I just need to rest for a few hours,” he thought he said, but even to his ears the words had sounded garbled. He was exhausted and couldn’t remain awake any longer, but was still fighting it.

“We’ll take you to our place.” Angel’s soft voice finally lulled Raphael to sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, Raphael was lying on a bed. Twinges of sharp pain leapt all around his torso when he tried to sit.

“You’re back,” Paride said, leaning forward on a chair by the window.

Angel sat on a stool by the bed and smiled at Raphael. “I thought you’d never wake.”

“How long…” His mouth tasted like something had died in it, and his head hurt at every slight movement. Even turning his eyes was painful, and he gave up on attempting to change position.

“How long were you out? That’s what you want to know?” Paride left the chair and walked closer to the bed. When Raphael slightly nodded, he answered, “A full day.” Then he carefully sat on the edge, his knees touching Angel’s. “What we want to know is who did this to you.” His hand trailed over Raphael without touching him.

“No one,” was Raphael’s immediate response.

“Isn’t he cute, trying to protect us?” Paride shook his head, his hand grabbing a handful of bedding in a tight twist.

“I’ll be out of here as soon as I can stand on my two feet.” Raphael followed his rehearsed speech, the one he had painstakingly put together while dragging his maimed body throughout the Promenade. “Thank you for your hospitality, but I won’t put you in danger by staying longer than necessary.”

Patrizia entered the room with a tray filled with bread, fruits, and beverages. “Thank the Goddess, you’re finally up. I’ve brought food for them, but there’s more than enough if you’d like to eat something.”

“Hi, Patrizia.” Raphael watched as the girl lowered the heavy tray on the nightstand, then walked behind Angel.

Patrizia had a somber expression and Raphael couldn’t remember a time when he had seen her not joyous. The interaction between the three was off too.

“Long time no see you, guys. How are you?” Raphael asked after a moment of silence stretched too long.

“We’re fine, but don’t try to change topic. Who did this to you?” Angel gave him a pointed look. “We’ll make him pay.”

Patrizia watched seemingly detached, her hand caressing her stomach. Only when she turned to the side, Raphael realized her belly wasn’t flat, but slightly rounded. She saw him looking at her, and the anguished expression on her face made him lower his eyes.

“And that’s why I won’t tell you,” Raphael said to Angel.

Paride placed his hand over his heart. “We take care of ours.”

“And you don’t know how much that means to me, but I won’t tell you.” Already exhausted by the conversation, Raphael massaged his temples. “Can you pass me something to drink?” He tried again to push himself up right, and managed to shore his upper body on his elbows.

“Sure.” Paride grabbed a water bottle, twisted its lid open, and brought it to Raphael’s lips. Then he broke a few pieces from a round loaf of bread and helped Raphael eat as well.

The three didn’t try to make him talk again and soon left to let him rest. Instead of trying to sleep, the first thing Raphael did was to grab his cell phone from his jeans. Hands trembling as pain shot through him, he cursed when he saw the cell battery had died. Luisa hadn’t heard from him in two days and she must have been frantic with worry. When he tried to leave the bed looking for Angel or Paride, he fell and barely made it back to the bed.

After a fitful night during which he eventually managed some much needed rest, Raphael saw the trio again the next morning. Following a soft knock on the door, the twins and Angel entered the room as he was about to leave, folded jacket on his bent arm.

“Sneaking out?” Angel asked, blocking the doorway. The shifter’s eyes went to Raphael’s jacket.

“I’ve got to get back to—” Raphael stopped in midsentence. He knew that they knew. Even if he had childishly tried to hide the Red patch from them, he had been out cold long enough for them to check, and Patrizia and Carla had talked for sure. Yet, what his friends didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“Where?” Paride stepped beside Angel, creating a human wall.

“Nowhere.” With a long sigh, Raphael pointed at the hallway behind the couple. “Listen, I shouldn’t have come here in the first place, but I didn’t know where else to go and I needed sanctuary—”

“And you did the right thing coming to us. I only wish you would trust us with the truth.” Angel opened his arms to the side. “Whatever it is you’re involved with, we can help.”

“You’ve done more than enough already, but it’s time for me to go.” Raphael motioned for Angel and Paride to let him pass.

Patrizia’s head popped in between the couple. “At least have breakfast with us before you leave. Carla wanted to say hi to you.”

At seeing the girl’s small smile, Raphael couldn’t help but consent to her request. Carla arrived a few minutes later and from the knowing look she gave him his suspicions were confirmed.

“I must protect them,” he whispered to Carla when the others were busy preparing food. “If you’ve said something already, please don’t add to it. It will only bring the den grief and you know it.”

Carla seemed to think about it a moment, but then nodded and Raphael let out a relieved sigh.

While eating at the round table in the kitchen that doubled as living room, the four of them alternated asking him about Luisa. He told them what he could while avoiding all the details pertaining to his affiliation to the Reds.

“So, you’re planning to leave Rome once and for all, ah?” Patrizia asked when Raphael reached the end of his redacted tale.

Plopping a slice of apple into his mouth, Raphael said, “We can’t stay here any longer.”

“When are you leaving?” Angel stirred his cappuccino.

“As soon as possible, but I need to take care of a few things first, collecting my bike, the money I saved—” While talking, he realized in less than two weeks would be Valentine’s Day, Luisa’s eighteenth birthday. “And while I’m at it, I must think of something special to surprise Luisa…” He spent the rest of the breakfast asking about them, but the four proved as reluctant to divulge their stories as he was.

An hour later, Raphael left the Den of Rejects with the bitter-sweet feeling he wouldn’t see them again soon.

As he reached the Reds, after two rather long subway and bus rides, Rock greeted him downstairs in the recreation room with worry etched all over his face.

The werewolf’s scowl soon lessened, but he grabbed Raphael by the elbow and walked him over toward the couches, now deserted. “Where were you? And don’t say at the barge, because I went back yesterday to check on you.”

“I stayed at friends’.”

Rock made an exasperated sound, pinched the bridge of his nose, and swore under his breath. “When Rico came looking for you, I told him I had you in my room and had to send Guts away saying you didn’t want to see anyone—”

The metal door to the stairway opened, and Rico strode into the room looking straight at them. News traveled fast at the compound.

Waving the ledger in front of him, Rico gave Rock a glare then looked back at Raphael. “Look who’s up and very late to work.”

Rock stepped forward, putting himself before Rico. “He should be resting at least another day.”

“He’s already wasted an entire day hiding in your quarters.” Rico slapped Rock’s arm with the ledger and sidestepped him to stand before Raphael. “This is your delivery schedule for the day. I added a few stops so you can make up for yesterday.”

Rock bristled and walked back into Rico’s path. “You can’t—”

Smiling his cruel smile, Rico pointed a finger toward the ceiling. “Alpha’s orders. The cub must earn his stay from now on.” He tilted his head to the side and caressed his chin with his free hand. “Playtime’s over.”

“Fine.” Raphael snatched the ledger from Rico and gave the list a brief look. “See you tomorrow morning.” Without bothering with a shower—he wasn’t ready to face the sting from the water on his wounded skin—or a change, he checked his Monster keys were still inside his jacket and headed downstairs to the garage.

Mounting his bike wasn’t easy, especially when every movement he made caused him to gasp in pain, but as he eased the Monster out and into the street, he thought of Luisa and the conversation they would have later that night.

While delivering drugs for the Reds, he let his mind wander and little by little his plans for Luisa’s birthday took form. In between stops, he bought several canvases he carried in a big satchel over his shoulder. The hard material slapped his back every time the Monster hit a hole or a bump in the road and hurt him, but he readjusted the cargo and revved the engine, letting the wind soothe his pain.

Later that night, after a meal of cold leftovers and a painful but short shower, Raphael sat on his bed. Cell phone charging and pencil in hand, he traced the first white canvas with Luisa’s portrait. When he was done with the first drawing and felt calm enough to text her, he sent the first message.

R: Hey, baby.

Luisa’s answer came a heartbeat later.

L: Raphael, my Goddess! RU okay?

R: I am now.

L: What happened to you?

R: Nothing important. In a few days I’ll come to pick you up. Be ready.

L: What?

R: We leave.

Chapter Eighteen

Day after day, Raphael endured Rico’s antics and the punishing workload the Red forced upon him without complaining. His big brother was most likely trying to kill him by exhaustion—he had Raphael drive for more than twelve sometimes thirteen hours straight, and accidents happened all the time in the heavily trafficked streets of Rome.

But more deliveries in his docket also meant he wasn’t expected back until late, and Rico only checked he was punctual for their meetings in the morning. What Raphael did in between deliveries went unnoticed, and he took full advantage of it. Instead of visiting Luisa, he used his breaks to drive to Milvio Bridge and clean up the barge as best as he could.

His longing to mark her and make her officially his mate couldn’t be ignored anymore, and his waking hours were filled with thoughts of their first time together. He didn’t want for that to happen while they were on the run, and her birthday coming on Valentine’s seemed the perfect day for them to celebrate their union. The barge had been his first sanctuary after escaping from his father’s house. He associated that run-down boat with the idea of freedom, which made it perfect for their love nest. He only needed a few touches here and there to create the right atmosphere, and achieved so by buying a few items, scavenging for others, and crafting with his own hands everything else.

At night, while texting to Luisa, he kept drawing her portraits and had to buy more canvases because he didn’t think any of his attempts was good enough. Soon, he had too many of them lying around his room and moved the canvases to the barge where no one would see them by mistake. Finally, he had her portrait done to his liking and started working on the perfect wooden frame.

Two days before Valentine’s, Rico saw fit to add a pick-up to Raphael’s already packed schedule. The municipal code wasn’t in Rome, and when Raphael checked the address on his phone he grunted.

Although he had promised himself not to confront Rico in any way, he couldn’t help but comment, “It’s in Fiumicino. Are you kidding me?”

Rico raised an eyebrow, but none of the usual insults came out of his mouth. Instead, he said, “Toughen up, pup. It’s a fast job anyway. The package’s outside, waiting for you.”

The hair on Raphael’s neck raised. Something was wrong.

“What are you waiting for? The day’s short. Get going.” Rico pointed at the door.

Acting on pure instinct, Raphael walked to the landing, then ran upstairs to his room to stuff his messenger bag with a few of his belongings and all the money he had saved. Exiting his room, he found Rico waiting for him in the hallway.

“What are you doing?” the werewolf asked, menace in his voice despite his calm tone.

“Forgot something.” Raphael closed the door and walked away. “Gotta run. Tight schedule.” He felt Rico’s eyes on his back. The feeling unsettled him, and he didn’t see Rock until he bumped into him on his way to the landing.

“Busy day already?” Rock asked.

“As usual.” Raphael made to sidestep him, but Rock placed a hand over his arm and stopped him.

“Is everything okay?”

Raphael raised his eyes to look at Rock. “Everything’s fine. Just late.” The lie weighed on his tongue more than it should have.

“See you later tonight?”

“Sure.” And like that Raphael said his goodbye to the only decent person among the Reds.

Once on his Monster, he drove straight to the barge where he finished his beautification project a full day in advance. Despite being tight on money, he splurged on the purchase of chocolates, a plush teddy bear, balloons, and even a bouquet of roses. He could go without food for a day or two if that bought Luisa her perfect night. It was late in the evening when he finally wrapped her framed portrait in recycled newspaper he stenciled all over with red hearts. Satisfied by his work he closed the barge, counting the minutes before he could take Luisa in his arms.

As he walked back to one of the narrow streets surrounding Milvio Bridge where he had parked his bike, he heard a woman sing. The melody was unknown to Raphael, but reminded him of a lullaby his neighbor used to sing to her daughter. Whenever he could escape his father’s oppressive presence, he would run to the apartment next to theirs. There, he would spend time with the single mother who looked only slightly older than him and her toddler, a baby girl with the darkest skin he had ever seen. He had known contentment with that family of two, and theirs was a sweet memory.

Raphael thought it was a good omen and started the engine with a lightness he hadn’t felt in a long time. By the time he reached Wolf’s Haven, he could have sung his happiness for everyone to hear, but wisely kept his mouth shut and silently skulked along the perimeter of the rehab center to stop at Luisa’s building.

Too busy texting with her until the wee hours of the morning, he had forgotten to charge his cellphone the night before. And in all the excitement of the day, he hadn’t thought of doing it later, so he couldn’t send a text to inform her he was downstairs. Experiencing a bit of frustration, he kicked the gravel covering the ground and found the solution to his problem. He then took a moment to center himself and not muck up things when he was so close to start a new life with Luisa.

A few minutes later, Raphael looked up at her bedroom window, then extended his hand above his shoulder and threw a small pebble. He had chosen it with great care, because anything bigger or with sharp edges would break the glass. The round stone sailed through the air more or less in the arch Raphael had intended and hit the windowpane. The tinkling noise it made wasn’t too loud, but loud enough to alert Luisa of his presence.

One hundred and one. One hundred and two. One hundred and three.

Expectantly, he kept his nose up, waiting for the moment she would open the window and see him. “Luisa, baby—”

One hundred and four. One hundred and five.

He sighed and looked on the ground for another pebble with the same characteristic of the first. He was hiding in the darkness, the only light coming from that window one story up, but his wolf eyes helped him with the task. Once he found a second round stone, he gave it a kiss, then threw it. This time, he applied more thrust, and the resulting noise was louder. He thought he heard the glass crack the tiniest bit.

One hundred and one. One hundred and two—

The window opened and a girl’s head appeared, her long blond hair ruffled by the cold wind of a cold December night. “Who’s there?” Not Luisa, but her roommate.

Raphael flattened himself against the wall of the casolare. The ancient building hosting the girls’ dormitories at the Wolf’s Haven rehab center had been kept in its pristine conditions. Which for Raphael meant that the tuff bricks composing the wall weren’t exactly pleasant to hug. Their hard and uneven surfaces were digging into his skin despite his leather jacket.

Luisa’s roommate closed the window, and Raphael pushed away from the rough surface and rubbed his hands over his arms to warm himself. Before he could put in action plan B, which entailed entering the building from the main entrance, then stride through the dormitory, haul Luisa on his shoulder, and get out of there—despite his intention not to make a mess of things, he hadn’t put much thought into plan B—small steps echoed in the night.

His nostrils were filled with Luisa’s scent and his wolf cried out in joy. Raphael didn’t need any light to find her. In the pitch black darkness, he walked toward Luisa and opened his arms. A moment later, they were kissing, frantically caressing each other, and he was once again flattened to the wall uncaring of the pain on his back.

“I’ve missed you too much.” He took her face between his hands and lowered his forehead to hers. “I can’t be separated from you any longer.” His breathing ragged, he took her mouth for a long kiss.

Luisa pressed her small body against his, her hands searching under his jacket. “And I don’t want to wait any longer to be with you.”

He lowered his hands to hers and stilled them over his heart. “We’ll leave tonight.”

She stopped breathing, and his heart plummeted to his stomach. Then her eyes swelled with tears.

“No, baby, please don’t cry—” He hugged her close and brushed her lips.

She angled away from him, her dark green eyes searching for his. “Raphael…”

He gently washed her tears away with his hand, and she tilted her head and leaned on his caress. Then her lips turned up in one of her small smiles he liked so much, and she said, “I’m ready.”

At her words, Raphael felt his eyes swelling up, but he didn’t will the tears away. He never had to be anything but himself with Luisa. “I love you.” He kissed her softly.

She burrowed in his embrace. “I want to be with you tonight.” She wound her hands around his neck and pressed him down to her for a long, thorough kiss as their tears mixed.

His hands to her waist, he raised her from the ground and spun her around. “My soul mate.”

“I love you, my wolf.” she whispered in his mouth.

Upstairs, her bedroom’s window opened and the blonde’s head peeked out. “Luisa? Is that you? What are you doing down there? Come back, it’s too cold to be outside and it’s curfew already.”

Luisa laughed against his lips. “I need to go upstairs and wait for Carina to fall asleep or we’ll have the whole center after us in less than five minutes.”

He wasn’t ready to let her go, but any moment her nosey roommate would come down. “Let’s hope Carina falls asleep right away.” He pressed his hands on the small of her back because he needed to feel her warmth, his mouth seeking hers for a kiss that had to last him until she was back in his arms. “I can’t wait to be with you—”

Luisa let out a sigh as his hands slipped inside her jacket and under her sweater and finally found her skin.

“Luisa?” Carina’s voice cut through the silence like a knife and made Raphael jump.

Lost in the bliss of the moment, he hadn’t heard the window opening again. He swore under his breath, his heart galloping in his chest. “Go or I’ll do something stupid.” But despite his words, he crossed his arms over her back to press her closer to him. A moment later and with great difficulty, he loosened his hold on her and removed his hands from under her jacket, straightening her clothes as he went. But her hair was in disarray, her mouth was swollen from their kisses, and her eyes were still shiny. “It looks like I mauled you.” He brushed the tip of her nose and shook his head. “I should’ve been more careful.”

“Soon, we won’t need to be careful any longer.” She raised on her tiptoes and pecked his lips, before moving away.

“I’ll wait in the alcove.” Raphael let Luisa go and watched as she disappeared around the corner. Then he retreated into a small cellar opening on the side of the building, one of those hiding places he had discovered during his visits to the rehab center. The alcove—he had named it such because it sounded better than cellar—wasn’t big enough to stand inside, but was large enough to sit in it and be sheltered from the cold wind.

To make things worse, it had started raining. The cold intensified, and the wind brought the rain into the alcove, soaking Raphael in frigid water, but he had the memories of Luisa’s kisses to keep his mood uplifted despite the adversity he suffered.

Soft steps startled Raphael from his stupor a few hours later. When she leaned into the alcove and smiled, it was as if the sun shone on him. Hand in hand, they silently walked in the shadow of the building and reached his bike. He gave her a second helmet and his spare jacket, mounted the bike and waited for her to take her place behind him. Her slim arms encircled his waist and she leaned against his back.

“Ready?” he asked, and she softly squeezed her hold in response.

The ride back to Rome went fast and they reached the barge at the first lights of dawn. Walking down the marble staircase that led from the bridge to the riverbank, Raphael’s heart sped up at each step. At the jetty, he swept her in his arms and cradled her small body to his.

Her big eyes widened and she blushed.

He felt her heartbeat synching with his and lowered his lips to her forehead to whisper, “Welcome home.” Then he passed the threshold and entered the barge, shaking with pent-up emotions he could no longer keep at bay. Carrying her, he walked slowly, grateful her small weight anchored him to the moment, because otherwise he would have floated away.

“I meant for this to happen on Valentine’s Day, on your birthday…” He couldn’t finish his thought because Luisa pulled his head down to her and kissed him.

Shaking, as he was, tears falling from her lashes, she whispered, “I can’t wait.”

He nodded and silently walked the last few meters toward the small room at the other end of the barge, and to the bed he had made earlier. There, he deposited her on the worn quilt he had sprinkled with rose petals. Before lowering himself to the bed, he took a breath and looked at her, taking in her beauty.

“I love you, forever,” he said, taking her hand in his.

“And ever,” she finished, tugging at his arm so he would move closer to her.

The exhaustion, the hurt, the bad memories, all disappeared as Raphael lay beside her and she smiled at him. “I need you.” His body humming with longing, he helped her shrug off his jacket, then removed his. Then her sweater fell to the floor, followed by his shirt, her jeans and his. Clad only in their underwear, they looked at each other, their hands exploring, their eyes widening, their breaths halting at the same time.

Passing his fingers under the clasps of her bra, he opened it, then lowered the straps and left a trail of kisses from her shoulder to the hollow of her breasts. There, he rested his mouth feeling her heart exploding. His hands moved along her ribcage, skimming over the goosebumps on her skin and making her gasp. When he reached the waistband of her boxers, he smiled against her chest remembering that time in Coin’s dressing room. Hesitantly, he hooked a finger in the band and slowly pulled it down past her hips. Luisa shifted and bent her knees to help him, kicked the boxers out of the way, then removed his with hurried gestures and sought his mouth for a frantic kiss.

Their wolves howled at the same time and they separated their lips for a chuckle. Raphael bumped her forehead with his, his whole body shaking in anticipation, his heart in his throat as he moved over her, blanketing her small frame.

She tilted her chin up for another kiss, and her hands wound up on his back, roaming up and down. After a moment, feeling he couldn’t resist any longer, he angled toward the edge of the bed, his hand trailing down looking for his jeans and one of the square foils he had stuffed in its pocket. An act he had performed a few times in the past proved challenging with his trembling hands, but she dropped a kiss on his shoulder and that helped. Gently, he coaxed her knees apart and she welcomed him as he ever so slowly descended into her. Pleasure, as whole and perfect and pure as he had never experienced before engulfed him and his wolf.

One, at last. One, forever.

Their bodies dancing in a rhythm that was their own, Raphael left her lips for her throat where he nuzzled at the collarbone, then moved to her shoulder. His canines lowered and he licked her skin, feeling the frenetic rush of blood in her veins. Lost in the bliss of her warmth and her choked moans, with his teeth aching and his wolf demanding the mark, he pressed his mouth down. The moment he latched onto her soft skin, she arched her throat and his fangs erupted all the way through and pierced her. A white light exploded behind his eyelids, sending him into another level of pleasure. When he thought it couldn’t get any better, she tilted her head and sunk her teeth into his shoulder. Then he knew ecstasy.

Mine.

Yours.

Always.

Together.

Forever.

In the aftermath, they drifted away as one, their thoughts as intertwined as their trembling bodies, tears falling freely, the smashed rose petals releasing the sweetest of fragrances.

Framed by the oval window, the sun shone bright in the sky when Raphael woke with Luisa cuddling in his embrace. Trying not to disturb her sleep, he reached for the quilt and raised one corner to cover her. She snuggled closer with a contented sigh and he kissed her crown, then rested his chin over her head wondering at how perfectly they matched. The mark on her shoulder complemented his, its sight filling him with pride and a sense of belonging that made his heart soar.

When she opened her eyes, Luisa regaled him with the most radiant of smiles. Tender caresses and soft kisses followed, their bodies awakening as they sought each other for the rest of the morning. Only when their stomachs growled, he realized it was long past lunchtime.

“I’ll go fetch something to eat, then we’ll better keep going.” Raphael wasn’t ready to leave their haven, but the more they waited the more dangerous it would be. He sat and leaned to pick up his clothes strewn on the floor.

Luisa hugged him and leaned against his back. “We are the lucky ones.”

“I know.” Pressing her hands to his chest, he tilted his head over his shoulder to kiss her. “Everything in my life happened so I could find you.”

She remained silent for a moment, then freed one hand and with her fingers traced lines on his back. “Love your wings.”

“I couldn’t wait to show them to you.” Her movements lulled him and he purred.

She lingered a moment over one of the ridges left by the belting. “It was Rico, wasn’t it?”

Raphael hadn’t told her what had happened and didn’t want to mar the moment by talking about his big brother. “Next full moon those will disappear, and it will be as it never happened.” He slightly turned to kiss her mouth. “I want to show you something.”

“What is it?”

“A surprise.”

Her whole face lit. “I love surprises.”

After hastily donning his boxers, he wrapped her in the quilt and couldn’t help some more kissing. Then he scooped her in his arms and walked back to the barge’s main room where he lowered her to the tattered rug he had covered in rose petals as well. On his haunches, he gestured at the coffee table behind. He had made the furniture by placing a wooden board over a terracotta vase, then arranged his gifts for her on it. “It’s not much—”

She threw her arms around his neck and lowered him down to the rug. “It’s perfect!” After yet another long kiss, she leaned away from him and grabbed the plush teddy bear. Cuddling the bear to her chest, she sat straighter to look at the other items displayed on the table. “You bought me flowers, balloons, this—” she pressed the stuffed animal to her heart, “—and chocolates!”

“One day earlier, but…” He tilted his head to the side with a smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

“Raphael.” Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, moving closer to her.

She took shelter in his embrace as small sobs shook her frame. “It’s joy. I can’t contain it. I’ve never been so happy. Am I dreaming?”

He couldn’t help a small laugh as he shook his head. “No, this is better than a dream and it’s forever.”

“I love the sound of it.” She chuckled and sobbed at the same time, and he hugged her tighter.

“And what is this?” She pointed at the wrapped package.

“That’s your birthday gift, but I want you to open it tomorrow.” They would be on the run, and he wanted for her to have something to sweeten the harshness of the situation.

“Okay,” she said with a huff, then laughed. “May I have the chocolates now?”

“Sure.” He reached for the box and gave it to her. They sampled a few of the chocolates, but Raphael’s stomach growled. “I’ll go get something to eat.”

“I’ll come with you.”

After a short walk, they ended up eating pizza at a nearby pizza by the slice place. The simplest of meals but to Raphael it was the best food he had ever had. Sitting on the high stools at the pizzeria window, he looked outside. Red and pink balloons hung from canopies and were driven every which way by the February breeze. People walked by with heart-shaped boxes or gifts wrapped in pastel papers. Flower shops displayed what was left of their bouquets. Rome was all decked out for Valentine’s Day, and he couldn’t help but think it would have been nice to spend her special day in the city and not on the run.

As if reading his thoughts, she nudged his arm and dropped her head to his shoulder. “I don’t need anything else. Just you.”

Walking back to the barge, Raphael realized with a twinge of sorrow that they couldn’t delay their departure any longer. The usual chaos of a Friday afternoon in Rome, combined with the coincidence of also being the day before Valentine’s, meant they would get stuck in traffic even with his Monster. “We must get our things and leave now.”

“Okay.” She squeezed his hand and hurried her pace to match his running steps.

They reached the barge a few minutes later and were collecting their stuff, when a stench both familiar and foreign hit their nostrils and they turned at the same time toward the entry.

“Vampire?” Frowning, Luisa asked then shook her head. “Too early—”

Raphael’s heart slammed against his ribcage as he recognized the underlying scent of werewolf. A moment later, a known bulky frame filled the door.

“Going somewhere, pup?” Rico asked.

Chapter Nineteen

Careful not to attract any unwanted attention from Rico, Raphael scooted on the wet floor of the tender boat and tried to reach Luisa’s arm with his outstretched fingers. The rope chafed his wrists at every movement, and he could feel the blood trickling down from the fresh cuts, but needed to know she was okay. “Luisa?” His ankles were tied too, and he felt numb from the waist down for the forced position.

She was shivering and hadn’t said a word the whole ride. Rico had hit her on her face and split her lower lip with his rings. Raphael had done his best not to antagonize the werewolf knowing that Rico would take it out on her to spite him.

“Told you not to do or say anything.” Rico kicked him. “You’ve never been good at obeying.” The werewolf redirected the tender, then focused back on Raphael. “But it ends tonight.”

“Let her go,” Raphael said, even though he knew no amount of begging would ever dissuade Rico from exacting the revenge he thought he was entitled to.

Rico laughed. Over the noise of the tender’s engine, it sounded like cackling. “I can’t believe Tancredi once thought so much of you. You were never that great, if you ask me.”

Raphael stilled his mouth before he would aggravate the situation with an insult, and said instead, “I did what I was asked for and never shied from any task. Even when you sent me in rival gangs’ territory.”

Rico looked down at him. The werewolf had always been scary, but the vampire blood had changed him for the worse. He now had a manic edge to him that terrified Raphael. “Those little runs you did for the gang?” He shook his head. “You must be kidding. You can’t believe they were enough to grant you all the favors you received from me.”

Raphael wondered about those alleged favors. “Those little runs, as you call them, brought the Reds hundreds of thousands of euros.”

“You were supposed to work for the Reds. Or do you think that we’d patch you in just because you have a pretty face?” Rico corrected the route once again.

Raphael didn’t bother answering. Instead, he took advantage of the werewolf’s temporary distraction to scoot closer to Luisa. Finally, his fingers touched her cold arm. She was only wearing a thin shirt and jeans when Rico had barged in.

Pointing a gun at Luisa’s head, Rico had said, “Loaded with silver bullets,” then forced them to walk to the aft, where he had slapped her to convince Raphael to take the external ladder and descend into the tender.

“Or did you think I would ever leave you alone?” Rico was acting erratically. More than usual.

Raphael had seen Rico high, but never like this. From the little he could gather sitting on the bottom of the small boat and the landmarks he had recognized, Raphael inferred they were sailing toward the sea. “Where are you taking us?”

The werewolf laughed, then said, “Where you should’ve gone yesterday, Fiumicino,” confirming Raphael’s suspicion.

Raphael’s heart stopped. “Why?”

“Because it was your fault we supposedly didn’t ship one of yesterday’s loads and Tancredi made me pay for it.” Rico lowered the collar of his winter jacket and revealed a patch of skin raw and bloody.

Raphael had a hard time following the werewolf’s train of thought. “I thought you were sending me straight into a trap.”

“Of course I was, but that’s beside the point,” Rico continued. “I promised my suppliers a token of my appreciation for dealing directly with me without Tancredi being the wiser. You were my gift that never showed up—”

The tender was pushed sideways by a wave. “I drove ahead and waited for you on the dock for hours. I had everything ready to—” Rico swore and slammed the wheel with his hand, as he steadied himself. Right away, another wave unbalanced him.

Raphael jumped on the floor, but he didn’t lose contact with Luisa. “How did you find us?”

“How do you think I did, clever boy?” The werewolf shrugged, then spat into the water. “You forget I have friends in all the right places. I only had to ask for a copy of your entry log at RYS, where I discovered your father’s address, and a note about the Controller finding you at that barge all those years ago. Your father’s address is now a supermarket, so I drove to the barge and you were stupid enough to be there.”

“Why are we going to Fiumicino?” Raphael knew why, but felt Luisa responding to his touch and needed to distract Rico.

“The vampires didn’t appreciate being denied young blood, but they know it isn’t in their best interest to out me before my alpha. They are making business behind his back as well. So, this morning, they called Tancredi, complaining about a whole shipment of V that went to waste because you didn’t show up. After a long and thorough session of whipping imparted by one of Tancredi’s guards, I was ordered to go and meet the vampires tonight and appease them any way I could. But before letting me go, Tancredi stepped into the room to say, ‘If you find your little brother, good for you. Otherwise, don’t bother coming back after you’ve dealt with the nest.’ So you see, it was imperative I found you. Her, just an added bonus.” Rico swayed, but grabbed the wheel and steadied himself.

“Please, let her go.” Raphael raised his head above the tender’s edge and saw they were approaching the mouth of the Tiber and the city of Fiumicino.

Rico snorted.

Another wave hit the tender. Rico almost lost control of the wheel.

This time, Raphael was pushed to the side. “Free her. No one will ever know. You never told Tancredi about her, and Luisa won’t say a peep for sure. You know that.” Raphael kept talking, saying the first thing that came to mind. The majority of what he was saying was aimed at Luisa anyway. He wanted to let her know she should save herself any way she could. There wasn’t time to plan anything. The sun was setting ahead of them, and by the time they reached the vampire nest the bloodsuckers would be awake and hungry.

Rico wasn’t listening to Raphael though. The werewolf was mumbling to himself. “I don’t have any use for her in any case. She’s good for nothing. Too ugly to bed, and too incompetent for anything else. All she had going for her was that she was in the right place to pass along some drugs to those losers at the shelter, and you ruined that for me too.” For no apparent reason, he started laughing. “You two caused so much trouble to me that you deserve what’s coming next.”

The noise from another boat’s engine reached Raphael’s ears above the din of their own. Looking up at Rico’s back, Raphael drew his knees up to his waist, then thrust his legs outward to hit the werewolf. But having sat in the same position for too long, his body didn’t respond as expected and Raphael barely reached the man’s ankles.

Rico turned, eyes red-shot and mouth frozen in a snarl. “You, little piece of—” The rest of the werewolf’s insult was lost to Raphael, because he lowered his fist on Raphael’s head.

The blow momentarily incapacitated Raphael, but he refused to pass out, too worried of what would happen to Luisa if he wasn’t conscious. When he saw the syringe in Rico’s hand, he tried to move but the needle pierced the skin on his neck before he could react.

“Luisa—” Blackness folded over him like a heavy blanket and Raphael drifted away, cursing Rico all the way to the gates of Hades.

Chapter Twenty

Raphael came around to warmth, dim illumination, and soft chatting. Without opening his eyes, he stretched slowly, arching his spine over something that felt very much like a firm mattress.

“Raphael?” Luisa’s sweet voice intruded in his thoughts and he smiled, but when he tried to move his head dizziness overcame him.

“Come here, baby.” Disoriented and half-convinced he was back at the barge, or maybe dreaming, he reached out and found her. His smile broadened when his wandering hand met her arm and it felt solid. “Luisa, I missed you so much.” He decided they must be at the barge, Luisa stretched out on the bed of rose petals he had prepared for her. “I need you...” He shuddered and wound his other arm around Luisa to pull her closer to him.

“Raphael?” Luisa’s voice was but a whisper.

Even in his addled state, he heard the hesitance in the way she had called him, as if she was blushing. He tried to open his eyes, but at first he could only see white fuzz dancing around unfocused shapes, and another bout of dizziness overwhelmed him.

“Okay, that’s it, Romeo. You have an unwilling audience. Detach your tentacles from her, for Jupiter’s Beard.”

At the booming, male foreign voice, Raphael’s heart jumped against his ribcage. The startle helped him focus though, and a moment later his sight was back. The first thing he saw was Luisa, sitting straight by his side and very much blushing. They were on a bed—a hospital bed, in a hospital room. And they weren’t alone. Five men stood by the wall opposite the bed. “What the—?”

Luisa tugged at his arm. “Hi.” She smiled, making her blush even more evident.

“Hi, baby.” He looked over her shoulder to give their audience a better look.

The five men looked back at him, all of them wearing several degrees of amusement on their faces. Raphael couldn’t help but groan when he saw Quintilius and the Controller among them. The two men were the ones grinning the most. The other three he had never met before. One of them had a set of truncated, black wings he let trail down to the floor.

The sight was surreal, and for a moment Raphael wondered if he was dreaming and experiencing one of those freakish occurrences when one would dream in a dream. It had happened to him once or twice. He hadn’t liked it a bit then, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t like it now. But Luisa tentatively brushed his arm with her small fingers and he blinked.

“What do you want from us?” He knew he should have started by asking what had happened while he was unconscious, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out the general picture, and that those men were the reason why he wasn’t dead.

“I don’t know, maybe a big, heartfelt thanks for saving you?” The bulky man with a scar on his face similar to Angel’s detached himself from the wall. He was the one who had talked earlier, and despite his severe outward appearance he sounded like he was joking.

“It’s okay. He went through a lot,” Quintilius said in an equally light tone and an increasingly bigger smile.

Raphael couldn’t help but think that the werewolf was being particularly understanding, given the way he had disappeared from the alpha’s life without a word of explanation.

The Controller spoke next. “Raphael, you’re safe now.” The colossal demon’s eyes were a deep green and he too smiled at him.

More than anything else in the world he wanted to believe them, but life had taught Raphael time and again he could never lower his guard. So he shored himself up on his elbows, stared at the five, and said, “Whatever it is you have in mind, you won’t take her away from me.” He pulled Luisa closer to him. “I’ll fight you if necessary, but you won’t separate us.”

“Raphael—” Luisa tried to get his attention by pulling at his scrubs, but he kept his eyes on the men.

Quintilius sighed, while the demon shook his head with an amused expression and folded his arms before him.

“I like him already.” The man with the scar chuckled and stepped to the footboard of the bed. “The cub’s half starving and almost dead, and he’s already talking of getting into a fight.”

Raphael straightened and sat against the headboard, then pressed his hand over Luisa’s back. He made a show to relax his stance, crossing his legs under the blanket. “Try me.”

The man’s eyes widened before he exploded in a sonorous laugh, one hand over his stomach, the other on the edge of the footboard. “I can’t believe the balls on this one.”

The slimmer of the three—a man who exuded power but moved gracefully—closed the gap and slammed a hand over the other’s shoulder, then said, “This scrap of a street urchin sounds exactly like you, Marcus.”

“Hmm. Do you think so? I was never this scrawny though.” The bulky one, Marcus, kept laughing, then he tilted his head to the side. “I’m glad to see you’re much better already, kid.” He turned to his friend. “What do you think, Greek, do you have space at your party for two more guests tonight?”

The slim man caressed the blond stubble on his jaw. “The ladies have been cooking the whole day and part of the night. It would be a shame if all that food would go to waste. Plus, I heard something good is brewing for those two cubs. If they let us help them.”

Raphael was used to brutality. He understood cruelty. Anything less than pure meanness aimed at him and he didn’t know what to do with it. As it had happened during his stint at Quintilius’s. He finally looked down at Luisa who had kept tugging at his scrubs sleeve. “What’s going on?”

Her green eyes were lit with joy. A sight that melted him and made him wish for some privacy. “Everything’s all right, baby,” she said. “They are good people. You already know the Controller and the alpha—” With her chin she pointed at the other three, standing nearby. “Raphael, meet Marcus Aurelius, Alexander Drako, and Samuel.”

The burly man first, then the slim blond—whose name sounded quite familiar to Raphael—and finally the angel bowed when Luisa called their names.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, young man. You gave us quite the scare, but you’ll be fine in no time and we couldn’t be happier,” the angel, Samuel, said.

Taken aback by the man’s kindness, Raphael remained silent.

“We’re so grateful for everything you’ve done for us today,” Luisa said and squeezed Raphael’s hand.

“Thank you—” Raphael started.

“It’s okay. I know you need time to realize everything’s fine.” The Controller walked to the door. “Raphael, like I said, you and Luisa are safe. For now just stay put, and know that it’s not our intention to separate you two.” He slapped the doorframe once and was out of the room.

“The doctor’s coming to check on you. We’ll wait outside.” Quintilius waved at him, but Raphael stopped him.

“Wait—”

Quintilius expectantly waited for him to say something.

“The werewolf who kidnapped us, what happened to him?”

“We sent him to Regina Coeli and you won’t hear from him ever again, I promise.”

“The people I worked for… they might be looking for me. Their alpha is powerful—”

“You forget I’m kind of a big name too.” Quintilius laughed. “I’ll deal with Tancredi myself. Let me worry about him and just recover from all of this.” He brought two fingers to his temple in a mock salute, then followed the demon outside.

In a slow procession, the other three passed before the bed to give him words of reassurance. Then they exited as well, leaving Raphael and Luisa alone.

He felt Luisa chuckling against him, but stopped when he gave her a stare. “Okay, give me the short version.”

“They saved us.” She curled closer, those big eyes of hers locked on him.

He rolled his and smiled. “That’s been established.” He was helpless before the power of her eyes on him, and he had the feeling she already knew. “And the long of it?” He lowered his lips to her forehead and gave her a small peck.

“They were at Wolf’s Haven when the manager discovered I was gone and offered to search for me. They went to talk to Laura and discovered about you. From there, they went to the Den of Rejects first and to the barge later, where they discovered we had been abducted. They followed Rico to Fiumicino and saved us.”

Touched by the tale, Raphael could only say, “That was quite decent of them.”

Luisa smiled. “They’re great people and I think we should listen to what they want to propose to us.”

“And what would that be?”

“They were saying—”

A knock on the door interrupted Luisa. A doctor and two nurses entered.

“Good evening, Raphael. I am the doctor who admitted you.” The doctor patted Raphael’s hand, then asked the nurses to take Raphael’s blood pressure and temperature. Meanwhile, he took out a tablet and raised his glasses to his forehead to read out loud the results from Raphael’s analyses. “All considering, and giving that you were poisoned with a small dose of curare, your vitals are surprisingly good.”

“What is it?” Raphael had maybe heard of that poison once, but couldn’t remember anything about it at the moment.

The doctor slid his glasses back down to the ridge of his nose to look at Raphael and Luisa, and cleared his throat. “Basically, curare, even at small doses like the one you were exposed to, has the power to paralyze you. Its most terrifying aspect is that usually the victim is fully conscious the whole time—”

“I wasn’t. I have no clue what happened after Rico pinched me with that needle. I felt the prick, then I went down. And that’s it. I slept like the dead.”

The doctor nodded. “There were traces of opiate in your blood—” He hesitated, letting the sentence end in a question.

Raphael felt his temper rise, then realized the doctor was only doing his job. “I don’t do drugs. Never did.”

Visibly relieved, the doctor continued, “My guess is that the curare was mixed with enough opiate to make you slip into a deep slumber while you were paralyzed.”

“Why?” Being paralyzed and fully conscious sounded something out of a horror story. Rico would have never passed on an opportunity like that when it came to making someone suffer. Especially when the subject was Raphael.

The doctor slightly shrugged. “Well, I heard the latest fashion in the vampire world is to try drugs through their feeders. Since they metabolize drugs at such a rate they don’t feel any buzz from their consumption, they might experience something if they ingest blood from drugged donors. But it’s just a rumor.” He seemed to think about it a moment longer, then moved the glasses out of the way for a moment to read something on the chart. “In any case, it wasn’t enough to send you into a full coma. It was also fortunate that the full moon is several days away. That dosage would have been enough to inflict severe damage to your wolf.” He passed his hand over the tablet in a swiping motion. “Just recently, we have discovered that using curare to kill werewolves has become the poison of choice among vampires and sadly werewolves as well.”

Raphael couldn’t help but shiver and noticed the doctor was clearly uncomfortable when he said, “Once the wolf is dead, the poison disappears from the beast’s system. Then the werewolf becomes ill and dies a slow and painful dead.”

Raphael felt Luisa clutch his arm with her shaking hand. He placed his over hers and steadied it. “It seems I was quite lucky then.”

The doctor nodded, then went on explaining the meaning of every number on his analyses chart and concluded, “The gentlemen outside vouched for you, and they promised me they will personally escort you back a week from now to have your bloodwork done. Given that and the fact that you are one strong werewolf and otherwise in perfect health, I have no problems releasing you tonight.”

Raphael found himself saying a choked, “Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Truly.” The doctor scribbled something on the tablet with a stylus, then looked back at Raphael. “You should take it easy for the next few days. Although the percentage of poison that entered your system was minimal, we didn’t know what you had ingested prior and we still had to pump your stomach dry. And there’s also the opiate to deal with. Having said so, you’ll be fine as long as you’ll rest and hydrate yourself.” He paused and gave first Raphael a smile, then tilted his chin at Luisa. “I’m sure your personal nurse will take very good care of you.”

“I won’t let him do anything stupid,” Luisa said.

“Good.” Then the doctor read Luisa her analyses. “Given your low iron level, I strongly suggest that you take supplements.”

One of the nurses immediately produced a small plastic bottle from her scrub and handed it to Luisa.

“See you both next week,” the doctor said, putting his tablet away and heading toward the door.

Soon, Raphael and Luisa were back alone.

“Are you ready to get out of here?” Luisa asked.

“If you are with me—” He pulled her closer for a kiss, his hands cupping the back of her head and her neck. “Always.”

A loud knock on the door made the two of them jump up, and Raphael swore.

The one called Marcus peeked inside. “Dress up. We’re leaving.”

“What happens now?” Raphael whispered into Luisa’s mouth.

“We live.” She gave him a soft kiss, then angled her face away and looked at him. “Happily ever after.”

Epilogue

Sitting on the edge of the fountain, Raphael took his sketchpad and black pencil from his messenger bag. The Fairy House in front of him, he raised the pencil up to his eye for a mental measurement of the building’s proportion, then started drawing in earnest.

“Can you believe we live there?” Luisa dropped a small kiss to his cheek as she lowered herself next to him.

“I still pinch myself once in a while.”

After leaving the hospital two months ago, it turned out that Alexander Drako and his companion Ravenna, the owners of the Fairy House, wanted to offer Raphael and Luisa permanent shelter. At first, Raphael had been too shocked to even thank them. But after a few days passed and he realized no one was going to send them away, he finally relaxed and even asked Alexander and Ravenna to let him work to earn his keep. Eventually they relented and proposed that he and Luisa watched after their triplets once in a while.

Living with the Drako family was a dream come true for Raphael. Not only because they owned the Fairy House, but because Alexander and Ravenna made him and Luisa feel at home from the very first moment. There were rules and regulations Raphael wasn’t too fond of, like having to sleep in a separate room from Luisa—Alexander caught him several times trying to sneak into her bedroom and sent Raphael back to his, as if the man had nothing better to do than check on them—or having to go to school.

At least, he and Luisa had been enrolled in the same high school. As private institutions went, Dante Alighieri wasn’t that strict and their classmates weren’t half bad. In fact, three of them were shifters with whom they had become fast friends. The only negative note was the amount of homework neither he nor Luisa were accustomed to.

Bending, Raphael put down the pencil and the sketchpad on the cobblestones, then turned to take Luisa in his arms. “Did you finish translating the Latin version for tomorrow’s assignment?”

“Not yet. I hate Latin.” Luisa shifted on the large marble edge until she sat with her back against him. “And Greek. I can’t stand it either.”

Raphael laughed. “Don’t let Alexander know or we won’t hear the end of it.” He kissed the crown of her head. “Good thing I’m an ace at both languages and I’ve already translated all the pieces for this week.”

“Okay. And I’m done with math, so you can copy the quiz results.”

“Thanks. I can’t wait for the scholastic year to end already.” Since Alexander had told them about his house on the Amalfi Coast, Raphael had been dreaming of spending the whole summer with Luisa surfing and bathing. The Drako family and their friends would relocate there in June for Samuel’s wedding, and he looked forward to seeing the whole group again. He had even promised to babysit the little ones to give the couples some adult time.

“Me too. Six weeks and we’ll be free from homework.” Luisa tilted her chin to lean her head backward and look up at him. “I was thinking about next year—”

“What about it?” he moved her around so they were facing each other. Although, thanks to the Drakos’ chef, she had gained some weight, she was still as light as a feather in his hands. Her hair was growing back though. She had stopped shaving it when she had also stopped cutting herself.

“I can’t believe we’ll be graduating.”

“Me neither. I never thought I would ever be in school again.”

“And we’ll go to college after that.”

“Even more incredible, isn’t it?” He couldn’t help but laugh. His life, their lives, had changed so much in one night and he was still trying to get used to it. To the fact that for once he wasn’t running away and that he was safe, among people who would never hurt him.

“Life is beautiful.” Luisa tilted her head and smiled.

“With you by my side, always.”

Dear Reader, if you liked this book, please consider writing a review. As an indie author, I rely solely on word of mouth to promote my stories. Just a few words from you will ensure my work is discovered by other readers.

Thank you very much,

Monica

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Acknowledgments

As usual, I must thank my kids and my dad for just being the wonderful people they are.

Claudia, because she is the beta reader any author dreams of, and she expressly asked for Raphael.

Lorraine, because after reading a rough draft of what later became An Immortal Valentine's Day, she too asked for Raphael's story to be told.

Ava K. Michaels, for being an incredibly supportive author and friend.

Katie, Kory, and Angela from my critique group, for their keen eyes in catching typos and their insightful comments. Raphael is way better thanks to you, magnificent ladies.

All my friends, who are always very supportive and don't complain when I disappear for days.

Roberto, because he is the true inspiration behind my heroes.

Persons of Interest

I wrote the book and created the cover

Roberto Ruggeri formatted it

You, the reader, hopefully had a good time reading it

Bio

Monica La Porta is an Italian who landed in Seattle several years ago. Despite popular feelings about the Northwest weather, she finds the mist and the rain the perfect conditions to write. Being a strong advocate of universal acceptance and against violence in any form and shape, she is also glad to have landed precisely in Washington State. She is the author of The Ginecean Chronicles, a dystopian/science fiction series set on the planet Ginecea where women rule over a race of enslaved men and heterosexual love is considered a sin. She also published two other series: the futuristic love story across the universe, Elios & Gaia, narrated in two books; and the paranormal romance/urban fantasy series The Immortals set in Rome. Stop by her blog to read about her miniatures, sculptures, paintings, and her beloved beagle, Nero. Sometimes, she also posts about her writing.

Monica La Porta’s blog: www.monicalaporta.com

Monica La Porta’s author page of Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/monicalaportaauthor

Goodreads Author page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5757332.Monica_La_Porta

Twitter: https://twitter.com/momilp

Table of Contents

Title

Copyrights and More Information

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Bio