A Ghost of a Chance (19 page)

The light radiating from his body blinked out. He reached down, took Dabria’s hand, and lifted her to her feet. Taking her into his arms, he cradled her head and whispered, “I forgive you.”

“No!”

Dabria tried to cling to him, but he vanished from her arms.

* * * *

From heaven, Amos checked on the lovers from time to time. They lived their lives well. Luciano took many commissions that made his name well known throughout Italy. Dabria loved her husband and he loved her. Her nightly prayers to heaven reached Amos’s ears and it pleased his heart. His duties in heaven were varied and enlightening, but he missed her companionship and the humans. He did not regret the decision, however.

Ten years passed and Dabria’s prayers diminished. Amos fretted about the dwindling voice. He knew of nothing wholesome that would silence her prayers.

Finally, he petitioned the archangel to send another angel to be Amos’s ears and eyes on earth. He needed to find out what had happened to his cherished Dabria. The master angel was loathed to grant him the favor, knowing that the creature he so loved had brought about Amos’s shame. But he granted the wish with the condition that Amos could do nothing to assist Dabria. Amos agreed and went to his friend Gazardiel. She descended to earth that very night.

She passed into a small cottage at the center of town. As she entered the cottage, Dabria doubled over into the chair next to her and wept for a long, long time. Amos wished he could comfort her, but knew he was constrained by his promise. Instead, he stayed with her until the worst of it was over. He wished he knew what so troubled her.

When the tears ceased, Dabria sat up and wiped the moisture from her face with her apron. Determination lighted her eyes. She rose to cross to the door, grabbed a shawl from the hook, wrapped it around her thin shoulders, and left the house.

Gazardiel followed the woman through the streets of Florence, but the journey was short.

At the end of a hidden dark lane was a dirty tavern. Smoke poured from an open door along with the smell of cooking pork, cheap spirits, and the chatter of a gang of men. Dabria hesitated for a moment, tightened her grip on the shawl, and finally walked through the door.

When she was inside, she saw men of every type packed into the place: bankers, artists, politicians, workmen. The only women were scantily clad wenches who served ale, wine, and debauchery to the tavern’s patrons. As she passed, she ignored the obscenities whispered to her by drunken men. Several of them tried to touch her, but she held enough of her previous spirit to stop them with a cool glare. In the muted light, Amos noticed how thin she had become, the dark circles under her eyes, and her sunken cheeks. The change appalled him.

In the back of the tavern was a murky corner filled with a large circular table littered with gaming pieces. Around the table were several men in leather and finery. At one end was Luciano with a vixen on his lap feeding him her breast. Another bobbed up and down with her mouth wrapped around his erected member under the table. Dabria stopped and tears threatened her eyes. She got them under control by tightening her lips and removing her shawl.

“Tell your strumpets to leave. Your wife wishes to speak with you,” she said with force.

The crowd of men went instantly silent and the girls ceased their activities, rearranging their attire, and scuttled away from Luciano.

It was obvious he was very drunk. He adjusted his codpiece with difficulty and threw an insipid smirk across the room while he was doing so. Most of the men rose from their seats, gave Dabria a quick bow, and disappeared into the crowded tavern. One remained on the opposite side of the table, but Dabria only had eyes for her husband.

“My beautiful wife,” Luciano slurred to his friend, “has come to retrieve me, no doubt. Go home, wench! You may service me later.”

Dabria’s mouth fell open.

“You are drunk, my fine artist,” the man said, pouring him another splash of liquor. “Perhaps she is right. It may be time to go home. She is a lovely creature, man. Much better fare than this modest house can provide. Are you mad?”

Luciano gave the man a foolish grin and tipped the drink, spilling much of it on the table. “But my dear Reginald, she is a nag.”

“I have told you what to do with nags, have I not?”

“I will not beat my wife,” he replied, downing the drink.

“You never know, she may enjoy it.”

It was only then that Dabria turned her full attention to his friend, obviously to lash out at his impudence. When she focused on his face, she gasped, took a step backwards, and almost fell over a chair.

Amos had not even glanced at the man. When he had Gazardiel do so, his blood ran cold.

“Azazel,” Dabria whispered in terror. “Who let you out of hell? Why are you here, demon?”

That seemed to get the man’s attention. He sat up and leaned across the table to inspect her more closely. Inhaling through his teeth, his mouth curved until straight perfect teeth shone out of the darkness.

“A Muse,” he hissed. “And now mortal from the looks of it.”

Luciano squinted over at his friend and murmured, “A what? What are you saying?”

Without taking Dabria out of his sight, Reginald touched his friend’s face. “Sleep, my sweet artist.”

Luciano slumped onto the table.

The man rose and came around the table to bow. “Forgive me, madam, but they call me Reginald now. I miss the old name. It is good to hear it again. Especially from such a lovely mouth.” He made the word obscene.

Dabria took another step back, evidently preparing to flee, but Reginald jumped and caught both arms before she could turn. She fought him, striking his face with her fist before he got her under control, but the only thing it elicited was an indecent snigger.

“My God, you are exquisite.” He ran leering eyes over her body with slow exactness. Dabria squirmed under the examination.

It made Amos sick to see it. He cursed himself for making that agreement with the archangel. There was nothing he could do for Dabria.

“I must have you,” Reginald said, releasing her.

She turned to leave, but closed her eyes and clenched her fists. “What have you done to my husband?”

“I? Nothing. Luciano is a lecher.”

Dabria whirled around her eyes blazing. “My husband is a good man. Release him from your spell.” The laugh he gave her sent tremors through her body and her voice shook when she said, “Release him immediately.”

“He may be too far gone, signora. His depravity is deeper than you think. Would you like to know what your… good man has done? I would be happy to share the darkness of your husband’s soul. It took very little to convince him. A small push, nothing more.”

“Monster!”

“Yes, well.” Reginald stepped around her, wrapped his arms around her chest, and whispered in her ear. “Fornication is the least of it, I am sorry to say. May I tell you the rest?”

She took in a shaking breath and closed her eyes. “No.”

Reginald looked disappointed. “Pity.” He turned her in his arms and touched her cheek with his thumb. Her breath came out scattered, and he watched her bosom rise and fall, an ember of passion igniting his eyes. He touched the top of one bulging breast and she moaned, but not in protest. Reginald pulled her close and touched her ear with his lips. “But a sample of the delights awaiting you, my dear. I could fill your cup and then drink it dry.”

Dabria regained her senses and freed her hands enough to push him away. “Pig!” she shouted. “Return my husband to me!”

Reginald leaned against the table and stretched his neck while he watched her. Pulling his head back, his face turned sardonic. “Your plight has struck me deeply, madam. Perhaps there is something I can do for him.”

Her breath stopped. “What?”

He crossed to her with his arms behind his back, his black eyes never leaving hers. Dabria seemed confused. Without leave, Reginald grabbed a handful of her dark hair, breathed in her scent, and bent her head back. He played his fingers against her throat but she did not move.

“I can make this all go away. You have but to ask.”

Furrowing her brow, Dabria struggled to get free. “Demons do not grant favors without compensation. What is it you want from me?”

“Only your obedience, sweet lady. Luciano will live out his life a changed man, sinless, free. You have but to give me your soul.”

She lowered her eyes. “My soul is already forfeit or do you not know the price for my sin?”

Good girl
, Amos thought.
If he does not know I forgave you, there is nothing he can use
.

“I do not wish to send you to hell, my charming Muse. I wish you to serve me here on earth.”

Dabria blinked back at him. “How can I serve you here? I am mortal. My life will fade in a few years.”

“I swear to you once the bargain is accepted, you will not die. But I promise you this, your husband will enjoy a special place in hell if you do not submit to me. Do we have an agreement?”

He let her go and she almost fell. Reginald caught her arm and sat her in a chair.

For the longest time, she watched her husband sleeping at the table. The tavern seemed to go quiet around them.

“Very well,” she finally whispered, “but with a provision.” She lifted her head to him and there were tears in her eyes. “You must let him live out this lifetime with me. You must let him know love until he dies. His soul will remain forever free of sin.”

“Nothing easier.”

Reginald held out his hand to her. It took her a long time to take it. As soon as they touched, the room grew louder and Luciano sat up abruptly.

“Go with your wife, friend. You do not belong here.”

Dabria lifted her husband from the table and led him through the crowd as fast as her legs would carry her.

The next morning, Amos watched as Dabria made breakfast for her husband. Her eyes were very sad, but there was contentment in them too. At least she would have a lifetime with him.

Luciano stumbled out of the bedroom and spotted his wife at the stove. He crossed to her quickly and took her into his arms.

“My God, the things I have done to you,” he said, kissing her neck, her face, and her hands. “Forgive me, my love. Forgive me. Forgive me.”

“We discussed this last night, love.”

“My apologies are boundless,” he replied, lifting her off her feet and swirling her around. “You must forgive me again.”

Dabria touched his face with both hands and looked into his eyes. “I have forgiven you already, but I gladly forgive you again. I love you.” The passion in her words was deep and profound. She then laughed. “Now put me down. Breakfast is ready.”

After breakfast, Luciano dressed and prepared to go out. He asked if Dabria would like to go with him.

“Where are you going?” she asked, clearing away the dishes.

“I am going to church.”

Dabria stopped and tilted her head at him. “Church? You have no commissions right now.”

“I do not go there to work, my love, I go there to pray.”

A flow of relief colored Dabria’s face and she smiled back at him. “You go along, my love. I will finish these up and meet you later.”

He swept her up into his arms again and kissed her until they both laughed out loud. Luciano left the house whistling and singing.

A few moments later, screams and shouts came from outside and Dabria looked through the window. There was a crowd gathering on the street. She wiped her hands and left the house to investigate. Echoes of
runaway cart
and
he did not see it
spilled down the roadway.

Amos watched as she crossed the street to the milling crowd and knew that what she found there would break her. Amos did not stay around to see it. He did not have the heart. As he left, he had her screams to accompany him back to heaven.

Luciano was dead.

Chapter Sixteen
The Shade Turns

Keenan could feel sensation coming back into his hands first. They curled under his body, pressed into the road by his weight. He was lying on the ground. The smell of asphalt and grease advised his nose to shut down. It told them to go to hell. Shards of electricity crackled out of his elbows; at least that’s what he thought was happening. It was all kind of weird. He waited to open his eyes. No need to rush anything.

“Get up, son.” The voice was the same one he had just heard in his dream.
Curious
. Maybe he was still asleep.

“Come on. We have to return to the church.”

That got Keenan’s interest, and he cracked an eye without moving anything else.

“What just happened?” The words came out of the half of his mouth not stuck to the road. All he could see from that angle was black asphalt and greasy gravel.

Tempting fate, he rolled over on his back and looked up. Faint dusty stars glimmered above him and a figure appeared in his field of vision. It was Amos.