The Letter

The Gift

Raven slipped in and out of consciousness.

"Hey! Stay with me!

That voice. Is it?

"You've lost so much blood and... and," His voice quivered, "The burns!

Burns?

"I shouldn't have left you alone."

Her eyes fluttered shut.

"No! Don't you do that! Don't you dare die on me!"

The voice was desperate; tinged with regret.

"I won't let you die!"

Her consciousness faded.

A voice, distant and hollow, in the vast emptiness, called her name in a continuous echo. "Raven!"

D-Dad?

"Señorita Beth," Angelica said, "There's a man here to see you." The woman's mother, sitting beside her on the sofa, crocheting a baby outfit, scoffed, "Who are you expecting, dear?"

Rian Astor entered the living room, his polished dress shoes clomping on the hardwood flooring. "Good morning, Beth," he said, acknowledging the older woman with a polite nod. The creases on the woman's forehead softened as she perked up, her eyes beaming.

Turning to her daughter, she gave a nod of approval. She set the crochet tools, yarn, and half-finished outfit aside and stood. "I'll let you speak privately."

"Couldn't be more obvious," the expectant mother muttered under her breath.

"How are you feeling?" he said. She rubbed her baby bump. "I'm better. Thanks for asking." She gestured to the love-seat. "Have a seat." 

He sat down, yanking his suit jacket from under his backside. The maid returned to the living room. "Can I bring you coffee or tea?"

"Just water," he replied. "I'll bring it right away," the maid said.

Beth quirked her brow. The investigator had a question on his mind but was reluctant to say it. "What gives?" she said. He cleared his throat. "How's Ms. Vashti?"

"Raven is all right. I just spoke to her last night or probably yesterday considering the time in Rome."

He raised his eyebrows. "Rome?" 

Beth grinned, sensing that the investigator has a thing for her step-daughter. "She's in Rome to take care of a matter," she said.

"When will she be returning?" he said. "Probably in a day or two," Beth said, pursing her lips.

"The reason for my visit," he said, tactfully changing the topic.

"About that," Beth said, sitting up. "Any news about the plea bargain?"

"The word from his attorney is that he has information about the night of the accident that would turn the case upside down," the investigator said. "In exchange, he wants a reduced sentence."

The brunette weighed the pros and cons. "To put Florence behind bars, I'll take it. Does his attorney know what it is?"

"The attorney was unaware of this until recently. He'll learn today the same as all of us."

The maid returned carrying a silver tray with a pitcher, a coaster, and one drinking glass. She set it on the antique table. "I can do it," the investigator said, stopping her as she started to pour the water into the glass. Nodding, the maid departed.

"God, I'm eager to hear what he has to say," Beth said. "Noon can't get here soon enough. Finally, I can get justice for Iggy." "All in good time," the investigator said, picking up the glass and taking a gulp.

The phone in his jacket pocket rang. "Excuse me," he said. He answered it. "This is Rian Astor, how can I help you?" He made a face. "When did this happen?"

By his grim expression, the expectant mother knew that it was not good news.

"I see. Thank you." He ended the call. "What's happened?" Beth said. "I have bad news," the investigator said.

*********

Raven stirred awake to a whispered conversation.

"You know there will be consequences," the accented voice said. "I had no choice," the deep, raspy, voiced replied in a somber tone.

She winced. Instead of speaking in a normal inflection, the conversation between the two sounded shouted in thundering decibels. Is this the afterlife? She heard scampering footsteps but turned up to eleven in volume. Gritting her teeth, she stopped her ears. "God!"

The door flung open, and on the other side stood... him. The anxiety on his pallid face dissolved to sweet relief. She didn't return the sentiment. "What are you doing here?" she said, her voice had a bite to it.

He stepped forward, cautiously. "How are you feeling?" he said. "Strange," she replied, still furious. "Everything sounds louder than normal."

He glanced back at the obscure person on the other side of the door. He said something in Italian then closed the door behind him.

"Why did you leave?" she said, her voice cracked. He looked at her sorrowfully. 

"I...," he started. 

"You owe me an explanation," she demanded. She fisted her hand, tear pinpricks filling her eyes.

"Because I didn't want to hurt you and your being around me endangers you!" he said.

"Well, it's too late for that," Raven spat. "You hurt me!"

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Save it," she snapped.

She looked around the luxury apartment-the airy windows giving a view of the Trevi Fountain-and the comfy sofa-bed that she was resting in. She wasn't at the B&B.

"Where am I?"

"Somewhere safe," he replied. She snorted. "Evasive as usual. You won't even tell me your damn name!"

He opened then closed his mouth.

He stared at the wooden tiled floor as she glared at him. "It's complicated," he said finally. "What's so complicated about saying what your name is!" Raven said baffled.

He kept his eyes trained on the floor.

She tried another tactic. "How did I get here?" she said. "I brought you," he replied.

"The last thing I remember was being at the cemetery," Raven said. "Care to fill in the blanks."

"You were barely alive," he said.

She reached up and felt her mended neck, her mind whirling with questions. "I remember being cut. I was bleeding profusely. I could feel my life draining away." Her eyes widened. "Someone was there, that waiter. But...," her voice trailed off.

"Go on," he said, an urgency in his voice.

"He didn't seem human," she said. "His eyes were weird. He had fangs. He chased me. I tried to outrun him. He moved at a supersonic speed. I couldn't believe it. Then, I tripped, or he pushed me."

His jaw tensed. "He pushed you," he said. "I saw it."

"I-I heard screams," she whispered, goosebumps rising on her skin. "Shrill screams."

"He won't hurt you ever again," he said in a tone that sent a cold chill up her nape.

"Y-You killed him. Didn't you?"

"I warned him," he said icily.

"Who are you?"

She pulled the ombre faux fur throw blanket up to her chest, protectively. "Really. Who are you?"

"You know who I am," he whisper-spoke.

"No. I don't. That's why I'm asking," she said trembling.

"Who did you come here to find?" he said.

She swallowed. "Viggo. Viggo Astor," she said, the words came out strangled.

He pointed a finger at himself.

"You found him," he said. "I am Viggo Astor."