“Andrea?” Ascanio whispered next to me.
I opened my eyes.
He was crouching by my cot. “I’m sorry to wake you up. My mother is outside the door. Can I let her in?”
“Of course you can let her in.”
“Thanks.”
He took off. I rubbed my eyes and sat up. The windup clock on the night table by the cot said seven p.m. Every cell in my body ached. Below, the bar clanged—Ascanio was opening the door. I forced myself upright, crossed the loft, and sat down on top of the stairs.
Ascanio swung the door open and stood aside. Martina came in. She had a rare look to her, a kind of regal beauty on the crossroads of severe and sensual, but not really leaning toward either. Her dark hair crowned her head in a braided updo coil. Her tan skin was flawless. Her features were large and boldly cut, and she held herself with great poise, so self-possessed with quiet confidence that people gravitated to her. Barabas called her Queen Martina. She wore jeans and an olive-colored blouse, but the nickname still fit.
Ascanio closed the door, locked it, and stood there awkwardly. I’d never seen him awkward before.
“How are you?” Martina reached over to touch his cheek, but stopped before the actual contact, as if she’d thought better of it.
“I’m good…Thank you.”
“I brought you your favorite,” she said, handing him a basket.
Ascanio took the towel off the basket and smiled. It was a shy little kid smile, so at odds with his teenage Don Juan persona, I almost did a double take.
“You should eat those,” she said.
Ascanio glanced at me.
“It’s okay,” Martina said. “Go on. I’ll visit with Andrea.”
Ascanio took the basket, leaned over, and kissed his mother on the cheek. Then he turned and went into the kitchen.
Martina climbed the stairs and sat next to me.
“What’s in the basket?” I asked.
“Cannoli,” she said. “He really likes them.”
And she had come all the way here, an hour from the Keep, just to bring them. Something wasn’t quite right.
“Did Raphael ever tell you our story?” she asked.
“No.” I knew that for some reason Ascanio hadn’t lived with the clan for a while, but that was about it.
She nodded. “I was young and living in the Midwest. I wasn’t bitten—I was born a bouda. My mother was a bouda also, my father was a werewolf. I had the best family, Andrea. I was so loved.”
“What happened?” I asked. Funny, I thought that all her self-assurance would create a distance, but she seemed so nice. Her voice just put me at ease.
“We had a flood,” she said. “One of those insane freak floods that sometimes hits states like Iowa. The river swelled and took down our town. We were sitting on the roof, and my mother saw our neighbors floating by in the car, their kids in the backseat. The car was sinking and everyone was screaming. The car went under. My mother was stronger than my father, so she went in after it. She didn’t come back. My dad dived in to get her out. He didn’t come back either. I sat there on the roof and cried and screamed and screamed and begged God to let them come back, but there was nothing but muddy river.”
I could picture her sitting on the roof, crying her eyes out. “That’s awful.”
“Thank you. My grandparents took me in, but it wasn’t the same. I left as soon as I could and traveled around, doing odd jobs here and there, bouncing at bars, waitressing in diners. I was kind of wild. If a guy had nice eyes and nice biceps, I was game.” She smiled, a little spark in her eyes. “Looking for love in all the wrong places. I had fun.”
“Did you find Mr. Right?”
“I found many Misters Right-for-Now. None of them lasted very long. I didn’t know it back then, because I was young and stupid, but the kind of great love I was looking for couldn’t happen for me back then. I didn’t even know what kind of person I wanted to be, let alone what I needed from a guy. But I wanted that love I lost, so I had this bright idea: I would get pregnant and have a baby. A baby would love me no matter what, because I’d be her mommy. We would be a little family together. It would be just like it was before.”
“It’s never like it was before.”
“I know that now, but back then I was selfish and damaged, and very young. About that time I met Ascanio’s father. John was gorgeous. Beautiful man. And a bouda like me. A little on the passive side, but he was kind and very proper. Seducing him was so much fun and once I did, he just did whatever I said. I was okay with being in charge. We were together for two months when I got pregnant. I was so happy. I told him and he cried.”