An Immortal Valentine's Day Read online

  Monica La Porta

  An Immortal Valentine's Day

  Book Five of The Immortals

  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.

  Chapter One

  Walking on the ridge trail overlooking the rolling hills, Quintilius inhaled the crisp February air mixed with the Mediterranean pine tree resin. At eight o’clock in the morning, the sun rays seeped through the blanket of white clouds like a spider web. The soil under his work boots was hard, making a crackling sound at each of his careful steps. As much as he loved the chaos of his colorful Rome, a city where he had helped build an empire, he enjoyed its sleepy country as well. Behind the medieval hamlet saddling the peak before him, the highway was already congested with all the cars leaving the city for the weekend. From where he stood, only peace and quiet filled his senses.

  Quintilius stepped back from the trail and descended toward the green patch stretching for fifty of the six hundred acres of his werewolf sanctuary, the Reserve. Frost covered the aciform leaves on the plantation of pine trees, and he removed his work gloves to feel the needles under his callous hands. A year ago, Quintilius gave the rehab center permission to use the property to plant trees and houseplants. Their staff had worked hard and it showed.

  Below, overlooking the plain sat a beautiful glass greenhouse where the orchids and the fresh cut roses were kept. Being the day before Valentine’s, the majority of them had already been sold, but he spotted a few colored patches of red, pink, and light purple showing through the glass walls.

  His cell phone vibrated in the back pocket of his jeans, and he hurried to answer when he saw the caller ID. A big smile showed on his cold face.

  “Ophelia.” Quintilius had been waiting for her to come back to Rome. Her life mate, Peter, would be part of the deal. He sighed at the thought. Their unconventional union had come as a shock to the werewolf community. He didn’t care that Peter was a demon, but if he so much as heard him answer her the wrong way, Quintilius would tear him apart. No one hurt his Ophelia, his daughter in every way it counted but blood.

  “Quintilius, where are you? We are at your place.” Ophelia always sounded as if she were running and juggling flaming swords at the same time.

  “I’m at the Reserve.” He stopped before a knotty olive tree that was taller than him by a full meter. “I’ll be home later in the afternoon.” He hadn’t known Ophelia would arrive today of all days, when he had promised the rehab’s manager he would help the kids sell flowers. In all probability, his house staff would receive floral treats as a result of his volunteering because he would buy all the remaining bouquets. “But don’t worry, we’ll spend the whole day together, tomorrow—” With a chuckle, he amended, “Well, not tomorrow, of course.” There had been a time where Ophelia would have spent Valentine’s Day with him. Not anymore. “What about Sunday?”

  “No, I can’t wait that long to see you. We’ll reach you there.” She hung up before he could say anything else.

  His Ophelia, always impetuous and never thinking things through. Quintilius smiled at the dark screen of his cell phone, then jogged down to the greenhouse, looking forward to choosing the most beautiful orchid for her.

  ****

  Alexander leaned over the crib to caress his sleeping kids, his princess, Arianna, and his two miniature-sized warriors, Serses and Darius. They liked to cuddle with each other and when he and Ravenna had tried to separate them and have them sleep in their individual cribs they had cried for hours. Eventually, the two exhausted parents had given in and let them crowd the space meant for one newborn. Eight months later, Alexander had ordered a custom-built, larger rocking crib to accommodate the trio.

  He turned his head slightly to the right where Ravenna was dozing off in the rocker chair, after feeding them. They had three nannies, but Ravenna was adamant she must take care of the triplets and no one else would help her, except Alexander. After lengthy sessions of late night conversations, Ravenna had conceded every other feeding to the three shapeshifter girls so she and Alexander could rest a few hours a day. Being immortals made them stronger, but forgoing sleep on a regular basis would require lots of exposure to sun rays to heal their bodies. With three kids, that was a luxury they didn’t have. “They look so peaceful.”

  Ravenna nodded and smiled at Alexander. “I should make an effort to truly wake and go downstairs and help Marta and Pietro with tonight party’s preparations.”

  To accommodate their vampire friends, Alexander and Ravenna had decided to celebrate Valentine’s the night before the big day.

  Waving a hand in the air, he lazily stretched on his loveseat. “That’s why we have a majordomo and his wife. They’re used to organizing parties—”

  Her eyes widened, and she reached behind and grabbed a beaded pillow she proceeded to throw at him with perfect aim. “Please, don’t remind me of your old debauched days and your parties.”

  Intercepting the pillow in midair, he smiled. He could never have enough of her jealous streak. “Those days are behind me, and you know it.” He blew her a kiss. “Rest. I’ll go check on Pietro and Marta and help them with anything they might need.” He sent the pillow back her way.

  “Thanks.” Ravenna reached one hand up to catch the pillow and promptly placed it back behind her head. “Remember, we still need to buy the floral arrangements.”

  “I’m on it.” He waited for her to relax and close her eyes, then focused back on his beautiful children. His days as a playboy were gone, and he didn’t miss them. He could spend hours looking at his kids and never tire of the sight. As he listened to his loved ones’ regular breathing, Alexander’s mind went to the night Ravenna had gone into labor, one month earlier than her due date. He had gone crazy with worry. The army of doctors he hired to check on her well-being had explained to them, and to him repeatedly, that she would give birth before her ninth month. But when the moment came to drive his life mate to the hospital, Alexander forgot his own name.

  At the beginning of Ravenna’s pregnancy, Doctor Bruni, the world-renowned paranormal neonatologist, patiently answered all their questions. With a paternal look on his face, he said, “With triplets and your active lifestyle, I expect you to deliver even earlier than that—”

  Alexander interrupted him with yet another question. He hadn’t let the doctor finish a sentence, which earned him several kicks under the chair from Ravenna. “But is it safe for the kids and for her?”

  “There’s no better place for Ravenna to give birth than here. She will be under my care the whole time and I can vouch for my staff.”

  Alexander nodded at first, then asked, “But what do you mean when you say she has an active lifestyle? Should she stop working and rest? Maybe a change of air?” In his mind, he planned a trip to Villa Eloisa, his estate on the Amalfi Coast, where they could rusticate until her labor pains started, then he would fly her back to Rome on his plane.

  At that, the doctor laughed and Ravenna stilled her stiletto heels and gave Alexander a look that only meant an unpleasant discussion later.

  “No, our beloved enforcer can keep working as long as she feels like it. Her body will t
ell her when she needs to slow down.” The doctor continued talking and Alexander kept disrupting the visit with stupid questions as Ravenna explained to him back home, in great detail.

  They had those visits multiple times every month because Alexander would panic at seeing her tired or just not her usual self. It didn’t matter that he had read books on the subject. He’d grabbed every title on the pregnancy and birthing isle and knew her hormones would flutter, and she would feel exhausted half of the time. The first time she cried because she had a hard time fitting in his Ferrari, he ordered the new Lamborghini SUV.

  “What’s that?” From their bedroom’s window, Ravenna looked down at the black Urus with a big, red bow on its hood.

  He nuzzled her neck and left a kiss behind her ear. “It’s your new car, so you’ll be safe and comfortable driving around Rome.”

  She turned and started crying in earnest.

  “What’s wrong, my love?”

  Between sobs, she whispered, “Nothing’s wrong. I love you so much.”

  When the crying didn’t stop, he freaked out but did the only thing he knew would help, he kissed her, took her to bed, and undressed her slowly and made love to her until they couldn’t think straight anymore. The strategy proved effective on several occasions.

  For almost her entire pregnancy, Ravenna exhibited the whole spectrum of symptoms described in those books he read every night before going to sleep. And sometimes during the night, when sleep eluded him, so worried about Ravenna and the three little lives growing inside her, he called his friend, Marcus, for parenting advice.

  Then the moment he had dreaded for the last eight months arrived. Technically still spring, but May in Rome was known to be hot—the city was experiencing a week of higher than usual temperatures—and Ravenna felt she was too big to do anything. Alexander had decided to cheer her up by taking her to a posh prenatal store where she bought sexy lingerie and a couple of cocktail dresses. She looked adorable in them all. Then instead of heading home, he called their favorite restaurant, The Well & The Moon, and told Marco, the owner and chef, that they’d be there shortly for dinner.

  As asked by Alexander, Marco prepared all of Ravenna’s favorite dishes. “I think I just had a contraction,” she announced between the first and the second entrée.

  Alexander looked at her big black eyes with a mix of wonder and worry, and it might have been a sympathetic response, but he felt a cramp tearing apart his midsection. “We’re having our kids?”

  She closed her eyes and breathed in and out, her expression revealing a second contraction. “I think we are.”

  Slowing his movements with great restraint, he pushed his chair back, stood, then kneeled beside her. “Are you okay?” He caressed her belly, uncaring of the paparazzi openly taking pictures. Before Ravenna entered his life, he was frequently featured in gossip magazines, but after her baby bump started showing, they couldn’t go anywhere without being followed by cameras and obnoxious reporters. In particular, Lena Chiosi of The Roman Chronicles had made it her mission in life to capture every moment of Ravenna’s gestation.

  Ravenna tilted her head and smiled at Alexander. “I am fine, my love.”

  But he wasn’t. Despite all his extensive reading on the subject, reassurance from the doctors that nature was taking its course, and Ravenna telling him they would be okay, Alexander wasn’t prepared. When they arrived at the neonatal floor of the Tiberina Island Hospital where all the paranormal kids had been delivered since the end of World War II, Alexander couldn’t control his nerves and snapped at the receptionist.

  The woman didn’t answer back in kind. Instead, she shook her head while chuckling, then pointed at the exit. “Mr. Drako, why won’t you wait outside, maybe go for a walk while we take good care of this beautiful new mamma?”

  Alexander’s temper rose, but one look at Ravenna, primly sitting in the wheelchair with her hands caressing her belly, made him think twice before saying something extremely rude. “I won’t leave her.”

  “Very well, but you must promise not to scare the other fathers with your antics.” The receptionist waved at one of the nurses, and Ravenna was taken to her room.

  As they navigated the long hallway leading to the maternity ward, Alexander took Ravenna’s hand in his and stroked her wrist. The gesture was more to calm him than her because Ravenna, in her usual commanding mode, was tracking the length and frequency of her contractions while talking to the nurse.

  He stole a kiss from his soul mate when the nurse stepped aside for a moment. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Alexander?”

  “Yes?” He leaned in to brush her nose.

  “I’ll be fine. The kids will be fine. Whatever happens next, remember I’m not the first woman to give birth.”

  “But it’s triplets.”

  She laughed her reassuring laugh, then brought his hand to her lips. “And I am not the first one to have triplets either.”

  “But you are my only love—”

  “As you are to me.” She smiled.

  The nurse had given them a moment of privacy but was now back at their side. “Ready?”

  He wanted to say he could never be ready for something so momentous but looked down at Ravenna and his heart was filled with love. “We are.”

  Doctor Bruni arrived a few minutes later, visited Ravenna, talked to the nurse in hushed tones, then gave both of them an encouraging smile. “Excellent news. Your babies have decided to be born today. We must prep you for a C-section, my dear.”

  “A C-section?” Alexander, still holding Ravenna’s hands, tried to compose himself before asking, “Why? Is there something wrong with our babies?” He could barely speak. “With Ravenna?”

  The doctor shook his head. “We told you the chances she would need a C-section were high considering she will deliver triplets.” He patted Ravenna’s shoulders and addressed them both. “I’ve been delivering babies for the last two hundred years. Don’t worry.”

  “Okay.” Alexander was far from feeling reassured, but kissed Ravenna.

  She squeezed his hand. “You heard the doctor. Don’t worry.”

  The nurse wheeled Ravenna’s bed out of the room and the doctor followed them, leaving Alexander alone. The morning after, the doctor told him that during the delivery, after she was administered the epidural, there had been complications. But he saw his beautiful children and life mate before knowing any of it, and that was a blessing he eventually thanked Ravenna for. She had asked Doctor Bruni to keep the truth from Alexander. Although he was scared witless when the doctor told him how severe the threat had been, he understood why Ravenna had not wanted him to know right away.

  Only Ravenna’s strong constitution had saved her from suffering damages that would have taken months of the highest dosage of heliotherapy to heal from. For the first few days after the delivery, Alexander treated Ravenna like a porcelain doll until she complained he was suffocating her with his too protective ways, and he had to relent. Still, after months of worry, he couldn’t bear to fall asleep before she did nor to be awake before her.

  The vibrations from his cell phone brought him back to the present. “Marcus?” he whispered with his hand over his mouth as he left the nursery on tiptoes. “Give me a second.” He headed toward the Japanese studio where he would ask Pietro for a strong cup of espresso and croissants fresh from the oven.

  ****

  Marcus heard the exhaustion in Alexander’s voice and chuckled. “Another sleepless night?” He rubbed a hand over his stubble, at least three days’ worth of black beard he would have to shave for the Valentine’s party later that night.

  “Arianna’s teething and kept everyone up.” Alexander yawned. “How can you keep those ungodly hours and still sound so cheerful?”

  Marcus removed the moka from the stove and inhaled the comforting smell of the strong espresso. “Watch your mouth, Greek. Nobody has ever told me I was cheerful and lived another day to talk about it.”

 
Marcus’s eyes turned to the stairs leading down to the basement, where his vampire wife and were-bat kid were sleeping the day off behind a metal door. Since he had married Diana, Marcus had switched to her lifestyle and started living at night. As an immortal, he needed the power of the sun to keep healthy, so once or twice a week he went to sleep later in the afternoon and spent a few hours on his terrace to get his fill of the sun’s rays. He drank his espresso black, and glanced outside the kitchen window. The sun was covered by a thick blanket of white clouds, but he knew that, although cold, the healing particles contained in the rays still filtered through them. “I’m a Roman centurion, living at night and forgoing the light of day is nothing compared to what I used to do.”

  “You do realize it was a rhetorical question?”

  Marcus snorted. “Just toughen up.” He refilled his cup and grabbed one of the vegetarian savory pastries Diana had baked for him the night before. Even though she didn’t consume food anymore, she enjoyed cooking for him. He always fed her soon after, so in his blood she could taste the spices and flavors she used to prepare a dish. After he took a bite of the phyllo dough and discovered a soft cream of porcini mushrooms and mozzarella, he smiled and walked to the narrow hallway leading up to the terrace. “What do you need for tonight?”

  “I’m glad you asked. I didn’t think you Romans could be polite,” Alexander said.

  Marcus and Alexander never tired of that game. If anything, the older they grew, the more creative their insults became.

  Marcus opened the door to the terrace and stepped out. A cold gust of wind ruffled his hair and he felt more awake. “If it weren’t for Diana, who loves this holiday, I’d be a no-show tonight, but just try and guess which finger I’m raising at you.” He sat on one of the cozy chaise lounges Diana had bought for them the previous summer so they could enjoy the star shower.

  “Are you up for a short trip to Quintilius’s Reserve?”

  One hand under his head, his legs crossed at the ankles, Marcus looked up at the sky. “What for?”