Chapter 3

Bellona was getting off a plane in Rome four hours later. She wanted nothing more than to return to her Trastevere apartment and sit in her bathtub, preferably with a nice bottle of wine and a box of pistachio nougat. The quick shower she had in Tangier was enough to get the blood off, but she could still smell the stinking cages and the men she had killed on her skin.

Bellona was in a taxi the next time the phone rang. She smiled as she answered, Pronto?

How did it go, Bells? Set asked.

Fine. I sent you a little present in the mail. I dont know if there is anything useful on it, but it might have their suppliers and buyers, she replied, staring out the window at the rain-soaked city.

Are you okay? You sound a bit off there, Bells. Usually, youre more chipper after a murder spree, Set teased. He knew her too well.

Bellona bit the inside of her cheek. I have a problem.

Spit it out.

Someone has taken a hit out on Rafael. Bellona didnt have to tell Set who Rafael was. He had gotten the whole story out of her one night in the Congo. Set was one of her oldest friends and, being another war god, was perhaps the only person who understood why she had stayed as far away from Rafael as possible.

Set swore in the old tongue before switching back to Italian. What are you going to do? You cant level Rome, not after last time.

I cant sit back and watch him die either.

It will mean exposing yourself to him. Its been over twenty years, Bells. Hes going to see you havent aged.

Bellona sighed. I know, but I doubt he will even remember me. I still cant sit back and wait for him to die.

And if he has a wife and kids? Because you walked away, so you cant get jealous, Set asked.

Im not jealous. Im assuming he does have a family, Set. Im ready for it. I cant let them die either. Hes clearly caught up in the same shit Michele was years ago. I wont let him suffer for his fathers sins. Bellona paid her driver and got out of the taxi.

Call me if you need anything. I mean it, Bellona. Dont go to war on your own when you know I want to help, Set replied.

I need to find out whats happening first. If I need backup and Ayla can spare you, Ill get you to come.

They rang off, and Bellona pulled out her keys. She walked up the three flights of stairs because she hated elevators and stepped into the cool darkness of her apartment. An orange light blinked from her ancient telephone to tell her she had a message. No one called that phone anymore.

Bellona pressed the button, and a mans voice crackled over the line. I dont know who you are, and if you can help me. My father Michele Asellio gave me your card and told me to contact you if I was ever in trouble. I think… I think I need your help. Can you please call me back?

Cazzo, she swore and played the message again. Something stirred in her chest, and it took her a moment to realize it was worry. She needed to shower, to prepare herself to talk to him, but he might not have time. Bellona dialed his number on her cell phone and waited.

Buonasera, Rafael answered. Hello? Is anyone there?

What kind of trouble are you in? she replied, breathing a sigh of relief that he was still alive.

Not the kind Im willing to discuss with someone with voice modification software on their phone.

Thats smart of you.

Thank you. Will you come to me?

Bellona knew walking into an unknown battleground was a bad idea, but she didnt see another choice. If she waited, he would die. Where are you? Do you have any guards?

No guards. I dont know who I can trust right now. I dont even know why I called you.

Bellona pinched the bridge of her nose. It was almost midnight, and it had already been a long night. He was all alone with a two-million-euro bounty on his head. He wouldnt see dawn without her.

Tell me where you are, Rafael.

My villa is just outside of SantOreste, he replied.

Oh great, lots of wide-open spaces for the snipers and no one to hear you scream when they torture you.Bellona didnt say it because she didnt want to scare him. Rafael didnt sound scared yet, only tired. That was good. Scared people did stupid things.

Text me the address, and I will come, she said before hanging up. She picked up her bag and grabbed the keys to her car. At least she was already packed.

Bellona checked her reflection in her hallway mirror, and her vanity made her swipe on some red lipstick. She didnt know why she bothered. She doubted Rafael would even remember her.

Bellona roaredthrough the tight streets of Rome in a black Audi, weaving in and out of the traffic like a demon. It was still early enough that Romes nightlife kept people on the roads and in her way. SantOreste was fifty minutes away if she stuck to the speed limit. She didnt. She couldnt believe she had planned to follow the rules to begin with.

You shouldnt even care, she muttered to herself and changed gears. After two decades, Bellona couldnt figure out why she was still drawn to someone after knowing them for less than an hour.

Rafael had gotten to her when so few did. He had been like a smiling blade that had found the one weakness in her armor and got through it. Maybe it was because she had shown who she really was that night, all the bloody mess of it, and he had still kissed her.

And now youre putting your hand in a hornets nest for some kid. Brilliant, she replied to her inner monologue. Rafael wasnt some kid anymore. Perhaps the photo she had seen had been flattering. Not that it mattered because he would be happily married with his own little bambini running about.

Bellona had only been good at one thing, and that was war. She would never be able to live a normal life with a normal partner. She knew the truth of that in her bones. She would do what she was good at—keep Rafael safe—and then she would finally get the closure she needed to let him go.

Thirty minutes later, Bellona pulled up on the side of a lane that led to Rafaels villa. It was surrounded by a vineyard, the gardens around the house easily identifiable by the tall poplar trees. Bellona got out of the car and breathed in the cool air. It smelled of rain on the way, turned earth, and citrus from a cluster of lemon trees.

Bellona moved slowly down one of the neat rows of the vines. The first sniper didnt look from his scope until she was sitting on his back and sliding the blade of her pugio into his neck.

She lifted the rifle and looked around the back of the house. Lots of glass windows to make the most of the views.

Bellonas breathing hitched when Rafaels tall figure moved in front of the windows, a drink in his hand. Despite the late hour, he wore black jeans and a white button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up. He was walking about with no idea how exposed he was. How wasnt he dead already?

Are you in position? A voice whispered through the dead mans earpiece. Bellona swung the scope about until she spotted another shooter to the west.

I can see you, she purred into the comm and then pulled the trigger. When she was satisfied that there was no one left in the fields, she slung the rifle over one shoulder and walked to the house.

The back sliding door lock had been picked already, so Bellona slipped inside like a shadow. She followed the dirty boot prints left on the otherwise pristine cypress pine floors. Someone was humming in the kitchen and pouring wine.

Bellona caught the attackers knife before it came down on Rafaels neck. She broke the mans wrist as she twisted his arm back and dislocated his shoulder. He was still howling when she snapped his neck, and he dropped to the tiles.

Gesù Cristo! Rafael gasped, his hazel eyes going wide as he stared at her.

The photo Bellona had seen hadnt done him any justice at all. He had silver in his dark hair and beard and a few lines around his eyes and forehead, but like fine wine, age had only made him better. There was a fine scar over the bridge of his nose, and she grinned, knowing she was the one who had put it there.

Your situational awareness is still shit. I thought you getting jumped in a mens bathroom would have taught you a lesson about watching your back, Bellona said.

Its really you, isnt it? Rafaels handsome face broke into a smile, turning him from handsome to breathtaking. Angela della morte.