Raphael (The Immortal Youth Book 1) by Monica La Porta Read Free Book Online Page A

difficulty, the doctor pushed himself up, and, followed by the nurses, met the trio halfway.
    Raphael sat on the vacated chair and kept vigil on the girl for the rest of the night. Around seven o’clock, she woke, and at Raphael’s sight, she screamed and scooted away from him, only to calm down when one of the female nurses took his place. That told him the rest of the girl’s story.
    “Go home.” Lina accompanied him outside.
    Awake for more than twenty-four hours, Raphael mounted his bicycle and rode all the way to the other side of the city to start his day at Quintilius’s office. The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed nine in the morning as he walked past the secretary station.
    Iris raised her nose from the envelope she was opening with a paper knife and made a show to dilate her nostrils. “You are sixty minutes late and didn’t even bother with a shower.” Her cold, grey eyes studied him from head to toe. “Your clothes are filthy.” She pointed a bony finger at his shirt.
    Raphael looked down and saw the girl’s blood on him. During the night, she had thrashed around in the bed and he held her in his arms worried she would fall. With a shrug, he shuffled to his office, and heavily sat at his desk. A pile of documents waited for him to be photocopied.
    “Raphael!”
    Quintilius’s voice startled him. Disoriented, he opened his eyes and saw the angry alpha staring down at him.
    “What are you doing on the floor?” Quintilius grabbed Raphael and pulled him up.
    Iris stepped inside, a malicious glee illuminating the harsh angles of her face. “Told you he was a good-for-nothing—”
    “Iris, out.” Quintilius raised his arm to the side to indicate the door, and the woman had the grace to exit in silence. “You.” He squeezed Raphael’s arm, then let him go, looking at him long and hard. “This—”
    Following the finger pointed at the messenger bag on the marble tiles, Raphael blinked, puzzled. The bag had an indentation, and he automatically brought a hand to his face. Under his probing touch, his cheek felt all wrinkled. When did he slip to the floor for a snooze?
    “—I won’t tolerate,” Quintilius finished with a roar.
    Raphael stumbled backward and hit the edge of his desk. From outside, Iris witnessed the scene with growing satisfaction. Unable to speak and say the words that would excuse himself, he stared at the wolf. Angry tears filled his eyes, but he refused to cry. Finally, he stepped beside the table and sat. Keeping down the bile, he lowered his head. “I apologize.”
    Despite how tired he still was, he was now fully awake.
    As soon as Quintilius stepped out of the building, Iris came to speak to Raphael. “People like you are the scum of the Earth. You are not the first one I’ve removed from his life, but you’re proving by far the easiest. And as you might have noticed my whispering lies in his ear is already working.”
    Raphael didn’t give her the satisfaction to look hurt, and silently sat as she walked to the desk with a stack of documents.
    With a cold smile, she placed the pile before Raphael. “These are the shipping contracts for the load of lumber that just arrived from the Alps. They must be copied, catalogued, and faxed to the Wolf Sea’s captain before five p.m., so the cargo can sail from the port of Civitavecchia to Istanbul’s tonight.”
    Raphael waited for the woman to leave his office, then set to work and finished an hour earlier. He was about to leave, when Iris came back.
    “Are you done with it?” She carried two manila folders.
    Nodding, Raphael pointed with a pen to the copied papers he had neatly stacked on the desk beside the originals. If he opened his mouth to answer, her he would unleash his fury, which was what she wanted him to do, so he kept quiet.
    Her cold eyes stared him down. “Good.” She sounded disappointed. Then she lowered the manila folders on the desk. “Here are the contracts for the marble slate shipment that