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Authors: Jamie Antonia Symonanis

Tags: #love, #justice, #vengeance, #extraterrestrials, #hacking, #romans, #sex slavery, #human trafficking, #ninth legion

Coventina

BOOK: Coventina
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Coventina

 

A Novel

 

Jamie Antonia Symonanis

 

 

 

Copyright
© 2012 Jamie Antonia Symonanis

 

Smashwords Edition

 

All rights reserved

 

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

 

 

Published by Jamie Antonia

 

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smardwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

 

 

 

The author can be contacted at

[email protected]

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Characters, corporations, institutions and organizations in this novel are the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, are used fictitiously without any intent to describe their actual conduct.

 

 

 

A very grateful thanks and acknowledgement is given to the following artists.

 

Florence and the Machine

U2

Beatles

The Cure

Lene Lovich

Bob Marley

Led Zeppelin

Annie Lennox

Rolling Stones

The Clash

Patti Smith

 

 

 

We are a way for the cosmos to know itself.

- Carl Sagan

 

Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.

- Marcus Aurelius

 

Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge.

- Paul Gauguin

 

 

 

 

This book is dedicated to a dear friend and fellow Saluki - Paul Buerger.

 

 

 

Table of Contents

 

1 – Approach

2 – Museum

3 – Studio

4 – Library

5 – Latin 101

6 – Ninth

7 – Barn

8 – Barbeque

9 – Time

10 – Morning

11 – Apartment

12 – Coventina

13 – Friends

14 – Eboracum

15 – Heworth

16 – Roman Column

17 – Via Della Magliana

18 – Palatium

19 – Gladius

20 – Lupanar

21 – Lenonibus

22 – Returned

23 – Back

24 – Big Bucks

25 – Sezze

26 – Breaking News

27 – Anna

28 – Custom

29 – Pilot

30 – Bologna

31 – Venezia

32 – A Few Questions

33 – Polizia

34 – Legio IX Hispana

35 – Matrice

36 – Segovia

37 – Ocean

38 – Maman

39 – Alex

40 – York

41 – Questions

42 – Home

43 – Offices

44 – Judith

45 – New Phone

46 – Upstairs

47 – AC

48 – Vengeance

49 – Back to Rome

50 – Paris

51 – Leaving Las Vegas

52 - Over Lasagna

53 – AC Upstairs

54 – The Woman

55 – Hotel Triton

56 – Golden Gate

57 – Arles

58 – Farmhouse

59 – Futons

60 – A Plan

61 – British Ladies

62 – Roman Morning

63 – Gay Paris

64 – Wake Up

65 – Special Delivery

66 – Two Moons

67 – Vesuvius

68 – Water Goddess

69 – Sewing Shields

70 – Rage

71 – Change

72 – Fit

73 – Dawn

74 – A Short Wait

75 – Lost And Found

76 – Scomparire

77 – Tua Vita Mea

78 – Decisions

79 – Departure

80 – Starry Night

 

 

Prologue

 

It has been nearly a year since Denise Zen and Layla Martin were approached and entrusted to help Nola and the rest of the crew of the Tyrine locate and rescue two crewmembers that had been kidnapped while on the planet surface.

 

The odyssey sent them on an adventure across the southern United States and beyond, mastering along the way the powers they had within that manifested themselves, one of the deciding factors in their being approached by the gentle but advanced extraterrestrials seeking their help.

 

They have spent most of their time in Southern Illinois mastering the unique gifts they received from the crew of the Tyrine. Their new home is now in Makanda, Illinois.

 

Denise has been having dreams, seeing visions, instilling in her a sense of impending dread more than wonder.

 

Her senses and gifts will prove to be right as usual.

 

 

 

1

Approach

 

The sun had slipped behind the brightly lit Chicago skyline some time earlier, and was continuing its descent that would wash the sky in a shade of blue black. It was the perfect end to the opening concert, kicking off yet another season of The Grant Park Music Festival.

“I can’t say that I like the concerts at this site as much as I liked them across the way at the Petrillo Band Shell,” Denise said.

“And where exactly would that be?” Layla asked.

“Right over yonder,” Denise said, a serious look on her face for wanting to point directly to it.

“Over yonder?” Mary laughed.

“Yes, that’s what I said, over yonder.” She pointed again.

“I might have known Southern Illinois was having its effect on you when you greeted me with howdy.”

“I love the word howdy,” Denise smiled.

They had traveled up to Chicago for Mary’s birthday a day early, and since Vivaldi was one of her favorite classical composers, Denise dragged her out of the house for the free concert that included his Four Seasons.

“Still a bit of a chill in the air,” Denise said, reaching for the jean jacket she brought along.

“Really, I think it’s comfortable,” Mary said.

“Yeah, but we all are not from these here parts,” Denise grinned.

“Oh stop it, now I know you’re exaggerating.”

“Shhh, this here concert’s about to start.”

A guest violinist from France was introduced and they broke into spring.

I know this. I really like Vivaldi it seems,
Denise thought.

As do I. Always loved this song,
Layla sighed.
It’s much better with you here though.

Of course,
Denise giggled.

When the concert was over Denise insisted they head over for a pizza at Due’s.

“I keep forgetting, you’re on that college diet of pizzas and a schedule of having them at odd hours,” Mary said. “Sounds nice. Haven’t been there in a while.”

Layla drove the black Mustang over to the restaurant, finding a parking spot on the same block.

During dinner, about three bites into her first slice of pizza, Mary softly moaned with delight. “Mmm, I’d forgotten how good this pizza is when you come here to the original restaurant. It’s out of this world.”

Denise and Layla looked at each other and laughed. “It’s not out of this world yet, but someday it will be,” Denise said.

“Oh yeah,” Mary moaned.

Layla motioned for their waitress.

“Yes?”

“I’d like another coke when you can slip it in please,” Layla smiled. When she brought it to the table Layla asked, “Can anyone write on these walls?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you.”

When she’d had enough to eat, Mary headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

“Love the smell of a Sharpie marker,” Layla said. She found a small space on the wall next to and slightly behind her that was not already covered in names or graffiti, and slowly added her name and Denise’s inside a heart with an arrow through it. “There, what do you think?”

She turned to see Denise carving into the wooden trim using one of the forks.

“Denise?”

She appeared to be in a trance as she continued to scrape into the wood.

“Denise. Baby what’s wrong?” Layla said.

She continued to carve into the wood.

DENISE. BABY WHAT IS WRONG?
Layla screamed.

“What? Oh, it looks great sweetie. Yes, I love the smell of a Sharpie marker too,” Denise said, still holding on to the bent fork.

“What is that?” Layla asked.

“What is what?”

“That,” Layla said, pointing to the carving Denise had just created.

“That? I don’t know. Looks like Latin. Maybe someone’s name, why?”

“Why? Because YOU just carved it, with that,” Layla said pointing to the fork she was still holding in her hand.

Denise looked back at the letters she had just carved. “I did?”

“Yes, while I was doing the heart. Are you ok?”

Denise took out her iPhone and snapped a few images of it just as Mary returned to the table.

“Want to get going?” Mary asked.

“Yes, we do,” Layla said. She once again motioned for the waitress to pack what was left of the pizza so Mary could take it home with her.

Denise was the last one to get up from the table to leave, passing a final disturbed gaze over the letters on the wall. C O V E N T I N A. She could not help but feel overwhelmed with a feeling of dread.

 

 

 

2

Museum

 

The sound of car horns and traffic awakened Denise.
Definitely not the peace and quiet of Southern Illinois,
she thought, as she slid out of bed and went to the bathroom. She returned to the room that was still dark. She could hear the sound of Layla’s rhythmic breathing and tip toed over to the front window, separating the front curtain just enough to see out. The bright morning sunlight seemed more than her eyes could bear at the moment. The city skyline rose above the sign of the motel they were staying at, The Ohio House. She chose this motel because of its two level motel existence in a twenty plus story neighborhood on Chicago’s near north side that actually included a parking lot for the customers. They’d survived since the sixties. No one pushed them out. She liked that. She also liked that the Mustang was parked right beneath their window.

It was Friday, and she and Layla had an entire day to kill before heading over to her parent’s house to sing Happy Birthday to Mary. She got dressed and slipped out to get some coffee from the motel restaurant, returning with two large cups and a Chicago Reader newspaper.

“I smell coffee,” Layla moaned softly.

“You do indeed,” Denise said. She sat in a comfortable lounge chair looking at the newspaper.

“What’s it looking like out there?”

“Promises to be a nice day. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. The horns are honking. It’s Friday in the big city.”

“Wow, all of that hey?”

“Thinking of getting some culture in our lives. Big cities may be distasteful to live in, but they do offer sweet museums, so what do you say?”

“Where you lead, I will follow. Is this one mine?”

“Yes luv, that is your coffee.”

Denise could sense that Layla was still somewhat disturbed by what she had watched her do the day before at the restaurant.
I guess I am a bit disturbed by it as well, but I’m not going to dwell on it,
she thought as she took her shower. They were still going to be in the city for another day and she wasn’t going to ruin it by worrying.

After showering and getting dressed, they started their day with breakfast at the motel restaurant. “It’s not Mary Lou’s but it’s pretty good,” Layla giggled.

“One must be out of this world to come close to her breakfast I suppose. I hear breakfast is good in New York, different potatoes.”

“That’s what I hear too.”

It was a beautiful late spring morning so they decided to walk to the Art Institute and stop along the way for some lattes.

“I guess we need to talk about last night huh?” Denise asked, as they strolled east on Ohio St. towards Michigan Avenue.

“Well, we don’t need to, but,” Layla said, her eyes widening when she did.

“All these brains in a city this size. Maybe I was picking up someone’s deep thoughts?”

“Maybe,” Layla said, her eyes widening again as she did.

“Not buying it huh?”

“Nah. I don’t know what it was, but whatever it was had you, had a grip on you that words spoken could not break through.”

“Yeah, that’s disturbing.”

Finally making it to Michigan Avenue broke the doom and gloom mood they were allowing themselves to sink into. “To your left is many wonderful shops along the Magnificent Mile,” Denise said, motioning as if she were starring in a television commercial. “To your right are less shops, but many historical sites to behold, including the place we were at yesterday.”

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