Italy
The sun here burned his skin. He wasn’t meant for this type of weather. Victor wondered if Elias had felt the same.
He thought about Elias all the time now. Took the talisman in and out of his mouth throughout the day, just curious what he was feeling.
Sometimes Elias cut him off; other times Elias just left their line open. He didn’t push things at him much anymore. It was as though they had finally had a conversation that meant something to him, and Elias had decided to stop torturing Victor with his agonies.
It was different, a steady torrent. Victor used it to entertain himself on the long carriage ride to Cupido.
Something had pleased Elias a lot in the morning, then he settled into boredom for the afternoon, spiking again to pleasure midday, and then settling sharply afterward into disappointment.
He wished he could ask Elias what had happened.
He smiled at a random thrill of humor Elias had, but laughing at things he couldn’t see felt a bit too intimate. He popped the talisman back in his mouth to cease his spying on the other man.
Victor couldn’t tell if Elias noticed when Victor was using Bradley’s charm. He wondered, also, what Elias was doing to cut him off on the rare times he did it.
The carriage stopped at a large white house. Victor looked up at it with dismay. Hopefully Cupido wasn’t another Bradley King. He didn’t have the energy to handle that kind of man today.
Victor stepped out of the carriage and paid his driver. Then climbed Cupido’s steps.
The door cracked open when Victor knocked on it.
“Scusi? Cupido Colombo?” Victor called, knocking again.
A little girl opened the door wider, looking up at him curiously.
Victor smiled at her. “Cupido, per favore?” he asked.
“Uno momento.”
A very nicely dressed man, hair slicked with pomade, strode quickly to the door, and scooped the girl up. He disappeared deep into the house then returned.
“Ah, il verme,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Siete venuti qui per chiedere l’elemosina?”
Victor shook his head. “Tedesco? Francese? Inglese?”
Cupido laughed at him. “German very weak. Can make do.”
Victor flushed. He didn’t like the way Cupido was looking at him.
Cupido ushered him inside by the elbow, closing the door behind him.
He pulled Victor through his beautifully furnished house and to the back, where a meticulously clean, white room awaited him.
Cupido settled Victor down on the cot in the center and immediately started giving him some kind of examination.
“I must look. Stay still, yes?” Cupido forced Victor’s head back so he could look up his nose, shined a candle close to his eyes, thumped his knees and elbows to look at his reflexes, listened to his heart and lungs.
Between each examination, he wrote detailed notes. He even had Victor blow his nose into a dish and took samples of his saliva and blood.
“What are you using this for?” Victor asked tentatively.
Cupido shrugged, then waved his notebook at Victor. “Rare . . . beast, no? Notes for the histories. You have . . . not long? The voices?”
Victor felt a thrill of terror. “No, the . . . voices haven’t started.”
Cupido laughed and then thumped him on the back. “Good boy. Perhaps one month, then.”
Victor’s stomach swooped nervously. “I’m going to Russia soon, to meet Yaroslav Voronof. Do you know him?”
Cupido pursed his lips. “To Russia? Better go quick.” Then he prodded Victor hard in the chest. “One month, ay?”
Victor nodded and swallowed. “Yes . . . One month.”
Cupido went to wash his hands. Victor stared at the broad expanse of his back and wondered what Cupido saw when he looked at him.
“Did a man called Elias come this way?”
Cupido turned around. “Elias? He speak . . . not so good. Only German, dialect different. Did not stay long. Mentioned I would receive a visitor and your . . . crimes. Why? You are friends now?”
It was Victor’s turn to laugh. “No. No, we are not.”
Cupido shrugged once, then again.
“Perhaps, one day,” he said.
Victor stared at him. He didn’t know how to respond to that.
“Come. Do you want to meet my wife? Very beautiful.”
Victor shook his head. He had to get out of here. He felt like he was about to cry and he didn’t know why.
“I have to go.”