Falcon's Angel (17 page)

Falcon could not remember what had happened in Forlì after he took his bride back to Rome. It was as if his psyche did not think it important enough to retain.

His fingers flexed, ready to punch the stone wall leading into the catacombs when he thought about how Signor Tarcisio must have lived in turmoil in the divided city thereafter. He saw Tarcisio’s brown eyes—Darien’s eyes—and knew they were one and the same.

Darien, the Ivy League barrister, was his brother in this eternal fight of good versus evil. He understood Darien’s fire now, his need for justice was intrinsic.

The same flowed through his veins. He had been taken back in time, given the gift of sight for the sole purpose of saving Angelina, his soul’s twin. Without the knowledge of the catacombs and all that had happened at
La Verità
, his love would have been lost to him once again.

Falcon attached the speaker to his earpiece; he was live. Granger would be able to hear everything that went on while keeping watch.

“Catacombs. I don’t like this, Falcon. What if you get lost down there? I should come with you.”

“Just watch your back.” Falcon was already striding into the gloom.

“If I lose you, I’m coming in.”

“Give me two hours.” It wouldn’t take that long to get through the tunnels with Angelina, but he didn’t want Granger getting lost in the catacombs considering what he had planned for later.

Chapter Five

“Luciano!”

A brown robed man strode through the stone archway. He shut the heavy double doors and walked swiftly over the flagstones. He stood near the bed with his face partially covered by a hood.

“He is looking for you.”

Luciano stiffened, his hand stilled against her.

Angelina gripped the knife in her hand. She was half afraid it would leap away or worse, cut her. She eased the knife into a satin fold of the rumpled sheets.

Luciano leaned up on one elbow to look at the man, her chance to slip from beneath him. It was a short-lived hope. Without turning in her direction, he removed his hand from between her legs and placed it on her belly, pushing her back down.

He glanced up at the dark stone archways above, and once again, she wondered who or what was up there. “Whoever told him I am here will go to their eternal death.”

The other brown robe glanced at the fiery pit. “You are not only horny, but stupid, as well!” The man came closer, but Angelina was beyond humiliation.

“Please, help me!” she cried.

The brown robe ignored her and picked up the length of rope Luciano had thrown to the floor. He tossed it atop the bed in disgust. “She is one of the Others.”

Luciano caressed her cheek, and she turned away. “She is…”

“Fool!” The brown robe shouted.

‘I am what?’
Angelina wanted to shout. Their words were confusing.

“She is mine now, Jacopo. I will speak for her.”

“How will you speak without a tongue?” the brown robe sneered at their entangled bodies. “And that won’t be the only part of your body he’ll cut off and feed to the Master.” Lowering his voice, Jacopo pleaded, “Come, or you will get us both killed.”

Luciano let loose a stream of curses. Although they were not as frightening in anger as in lust, Angelina held her breath until he moved off her.

While he re-tied the belt around his waist, she pulled the nightgown down over her hips. She tried to get up, but couldn’t. Her legs had gone to sleep but she could breathe easier now that his weight wasn’t squeezing the life out of her.

Without a backward glance, Jacopo walked to the double doors.

“I will come to you later, Bellezza,” Luciano bent over her.

She turned her head away, but he grabbed her chin and turned it back toward him, giving her a savage kiss on the mouth.

The nauseated moan she heard was coming from her own lips.

“He waits!” Jacopo called from the door.

The two men left the cavern, talking low, excitedly.

Angelina was not the least bit interested in what developments had called Luciano off her. She was just grateful it had been in time, before he’d killed her with his lust.

It was several minutes before she could move her legs, but when she was able, she walked gingerly to the small pit in the corner, where she heaved up the delicious meal she had eaten earlier.

Dizzy and weak, she lay with her cheek pressed to the stone floor and stared into the blaze across the cavern…

Flames from the fiery pit curled over the ground, snaking towards her until they licked at her feet, blistering them, and melting her toes like candle wax…

Angelina screamed, jerking upright.

She rubbed her toes, which were numb from the cold stone.

How long have I lain here?

Purpose cleared her head. She got up and walked swiftly to the bed. Choking off a cry of triumph, she stopped herself from looking up into the dark alcoves on the second level.

She had feared someone might have come in and taken it, but the knife was still there. Angelina lay down on top of the knife.

Luciano’s heavy bulk depressing the bed must have made the knife slide toward their bodies like that.

Angelina pulled the sheet over her and turned on her side, away from the eyes she felt on her. She slipped the knife under her pillow. Now, more than ever, she had to concentrate on staying awake.

The next time Luciano came to her, she would be ready.

* * * *

Through his earpiece, Falcon could hear Granger settling in for the wait.

With this high-tech equipment, Granger could hear his footsteps. He wanted to tell Granger not to worry, but how could he when he couldn’t explain why his partner shouldn’t worry?

Falcon turned on the tiny high-powered headlight on a leather band around his forehead. It cut through the inky blackness ten feet in front of him. He was about halfway through when he reached a Y-junction. His step never slowed as he veered left, the path clear in his mind’s eye.

Today he was
il Dragone
. He knew their secrets; the slithering wetness where snakes moved out of his path, the chirping mice scurrying away from his intrusion into their domain, and the running water … no, someone was running towards him through the tunnel, coming up fast from behind, from the path he’d bypassed.

Falcon turned. The brown robed man’s face contorted in rage as he lunged with an arm upraised. The serrated edge of a blade arched towards Falcon’s chest.

He sidestepped as the twelve–inch dagger sliced at the air in the space he had just vacated. He grabbed the brown robe around the neck and squeezed.

His insulting mutterings about the brown robe’s mother stopped when he heard … gurgling. It sounded familiar, he thought, when the dagger fell from the man’s hand. He looked at the brown robe more closely when the hood fell back and saw the damaged earlobe where Angelina had pulled out the earring. It was the mute.

“What’s happening?” Granger asked. “It sounds like somebody’s choking.”

“Give me a minute, Grange.” Falcon cut off the man’s air supply with thumb and forefinger. The gurgling stopped. The body fell heavily to the ground.

“Why do I feel like somebody is going to die today?” Granger shouted.

“There wasn’t anything I could do, Grange. The guy came out of nowhere.” He removed the dead man’s robe and slipped it on over his artillery belt.

“Wait a second, did you just kill somebody? Darien needs them alive, all right? Remember the mess you cleaned up in Hong Kong? Max could have been sold into slavery had it not been for the cool-headed Falcon. That Falcon is missing in action! What we have here is the wrong Falcon. The Falcon in love isn’t the in the right frame of mind for this job!”

“He had a dagger, what did you want me to do, make friends? I don’t have time to sweet talk them, and besides, I needed his brown robe.” The brown robe had come from the right, so he’d leave that passage clear in case other
il Dragone
traveled that route. Falcon rolled the body up against the wall and kept moving.

“Brown robe? For what?” Granger was getting upset again. “Falcon, you’re talking code I don’t understand. Clear your head, man.”

Somewhere in him the other more levelheaded Falcon knew Granger was right. He could easily have avoided the brown robe. Instead, he chose to cross paths with the brown robes on his way to Angel. He wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it. One less brown robe in Darien’s courtroom wasn’t going to make a difference.

Granger turned silent. If it seemed to Granger that he was following his own agenda, his friend was right.

There was a faint light up ahead and it was growing brighter.

Falcon turned his headlight off. He could make out two brown robed figures walking single file towards the central chamber about twenty feet ahead of him. He was in luck. There was another intersection coming up before they entered the chamber with its six portals.

He lightened his tread and fell in step behind the second brown robe. Lifting his hand to the man’s shoulder, he pressed firmly down on the nerve. When the man slumped, the clothing he carried dropped to the ground.

Falcon lifted him off his feet and stepped into the intersection on the right where he broke the man’s neck with one swift jerk.

He pulled the symbol of
il Dragone
off the man’s finger and slipped on the signet ring. Picking up the clothes that had dropped, he adopted the ceremonial march to catch up with the first brown robe.

He was holding the sweatpants and tank top that Angelina had been wearing when she ran from him that night. He folded them neatly.
Freshly laundered.
They seemed to be taking care of Angelina.

Falcon watched the brown robe walking in front of him for any telltale variance in posture, deciding this member of
il Dragone
hadn’t noticed the changing of the guards.

The man was carrying a heavy silver tray. It smelled as if Angel was about to be served breakfast, ham and eggs. Maybe he’d let this brown robe live if his life didn’t hinder their escape out of the catacombs.

He followed the man into the central chamber and over to a tall set of double doors with a heavy bolt across them. That hadn’t been there two hundred years ago. They walked to the solid oak doors between the stone effigies of
il Dragone
. His silent companion slowed and hung the lantern he carried on a hook. Falcon lifted the bolt and pushed on the solid oak. Slowly, the doors swung open.

Falcon kept his head down so that the hood shadowed his face while he scanned the cave.

Angelina was in a far corner of the ceremonial hall, away from the fire. She was sitting up on a huge bed on a raised dais.

Relief washed over him. She didn’t appear to be hurt, but his nostrils flared when he saw what she wore, a red satin gown and wrapper. She was dressed like some concubine awaiting her master’s pleasure. Though she had tied the wrapper around her in an attempt to cover all but her neck, the satin clung to her curves and outlined the fullness of her breasts. His grip on the door tightened as he stepped aside to allow the other brown robe with the tray to enter.

Falcon followed behind, keeping his head bowed and fighting the urge to pick Angelina up and carry her away. He had to keep his identity a secret for now, at least long enough to see what type of resistance he would be dealing with when the opportunity presented itself.

He took up the tedious march across the cave. When he got closer, he could see the stoic expression on Angelina’s face.

He’d feared her claustrophobia in this prison. Her eyes were red and swollen, regarding them with contempt and her bottom lip trembled.

Silence reigned as the silver tray was placed at the foot of the bed. Delicate china clinked with the motion.

Falcon glanced at the stone archways on the second level of the cave. He had never been farther up there than the area behind the pit. The arches were dark now, but he felt eyes on him.

When he heard the doors open across the cavern, he walked slowly around to the other side of the bed to face them.

Angelina’s wary eyes followed his movements, even as she tried to keep an eye on the brown robe that stood on the other side of the bed.

Falcon laid the clean clothes down and she glowered at the symbol of
il Dragone
on his hand.

He stood still as the little man with the big presence came closer. This must be Alfonso Ruggiero. Marchese Carlo Falco remembered him as the accursed Brother Conti, who should have been among the
il Dragone
to die that night so long ago. Instead, he had lived, at least until the end of the hearings in King Vittorio’s presence. While in prison, Brother Conti had seemed resigned to his fate, refusing to say a word to anyone, even the other members of his sect, as if he were above conversing with them.

The close cap of silver hair nearly matched the light gray tailored suit he wore. Ruggiero strode arrogantly over to them, briefcase in hand, with the same no-nonsense expression he had worn when they had slipped the noose around his neck over two hundred years ago.

Judging from his demeanor, the man had no time to waste.

Bene
, Falcon surmised.
This will be over soon.

But Ruggiero would have to be taken alive. Granger was recording this conversation for Darien in Rome

Falcon lowered his head and followed the lead of the brown robe, who bowed his head in deference to the leader.

“Angelina Natale.” It was a haughty summons in the diminutive man’s booming voice.

His lip curled. Angel had kept her wits in fear and did not reveal her true identity. Not only was she almost as good a liar as he, but she understood the hazards of her situation. It was clear Angelina had never seen this man before.

“Do you know why you have been taken?” Ruggiero’s cultured Italian held deceiving warmth that was a contradiction to his wintry smile.

Angelina gave him a slow nod, blinking at the obvious power this man enjoyed. His very manner brooked no argument.

“Then you understand the importance of doing everything I tell you to, exactly as I tell you to do it. Luciano will meet your Tony tonight and has already left to make sure that he comes alone. If Tony has been a good boy and brought along the Colossus, I shall give you back to him. However, if he tries anything, you will both die.”

Falcon clasped his hands in front of him in calm repose, but his lips were set in a grim line.

Ruggiero had walked into the cavern with his face uncovered. The man would not let them go free. He intended to kill them once he had the violin. Fortunately, it didn’t seem that Angel realized this. Falcon didn’t want her to crumble. He needed her to be on guard.

“He is alive?” The tremulous hope in Angelina’s voice drew his gaze away from Ruggiero. He watched her golden eyes brighten and it warmed his blood. She did love him.

Falcon had always known, but wasn’t certain that she had come to the realization yet. Her question to Ruggiero had done more to soothe the savagery in him than killing the two brown robes, though the base emotion still simmered in his blood.

“Of course he is alive. He is a strong young man. It was but a glancing blow to his head. Hopefully, it brought home an important message. If he doesn’t give Luciano any trouble, there may not be any need for more such incidents. I kill only when I’m provoked.”

As do I,
Falcon silently approved. He maintained his respectful stance and glanced at the other brown robe, whose hour had come after all. He would have to kill this one in order to take Ruggiero.
il Dragone
would surely attempt to protect the master.