Authors: Elizabeth Hunter
The reality of the situation began to take hold, and Beatrice felt the rage slipping away. In its place was a bone-deep pain. Carwyn must have caught the shift, because he let go of her wrists and pulled her into his arms. She shook with suppressed grief as the dark car made the twisted journey back to Rome.
When they pulled up to the house by the Pantheon, Ziri was already waiting by the gate. Carwyn paid the driver and the black car sped away. They stepped through the green door and the smell of cardamom hit Beatrice’s nose.
“Tenzin!” she cried into the courtyard and felt the rush of wind as Tenzin sped to her.
“What has happened?” Small arms encircled her, embracing and lifting her when she stumbled. “What has happened tonight? Where is Gio?”
Ziri stepped into the courtyard. “Livia arrested him. It was unexpected.”
Beatrice felt Carwyn on one side, holding her, when Tenzin dropped her arms. Her hiss was vicious. “What? That arrogant dog took my boy? I will kill her!”
“Lorenzo,” Beatrice muttered as they made their way into the silent house. “She’s the one helping Lorenzo.”
Tenzin said, “I know.”
“How?”
“What do you think I’ve been doing for the past few weeks? It doesn’t actually take me that long to get across the ocean.”
Beatrice heard Ziri’s low chuckle as they made their way up the stairs, careful to keep silent as they walked to the library so they wouldn’t wake Ben.
“What am I going to tell Ben?” she whispered. As tough as Ben pretended to be, she knew he adored Giovanni. Depended on him. Giovanni was the constant. Nothing could harm him. She felt frozen by grief and confusion.
“Shh, my girl,” Tenzin whispered. “I will get him back. Do you hear me?”
“They took him. How could they take him?”
“With trickery and surprise. That is how.” Tenzin’s arm slipped around her waist. “But they have lost the surprise, and no one will hold him for long.”
Dawn was close when the four of them settled into the library. Beatrice collapsed on the couch. Carwyn sat next to her. Ziri and Tenzin both stood by the cold fireplace. Beatrice was reminded of the fireplace in the tower that Giovanni had lit. Other memories assaulted her. The warm grasp of his hands. His burning kiss. Would that be her last memory of him? The last time he touched her?
“Whatever dark, depressing thoughts you are entertaining, B, snap out of them.” Carwyn’s voice was brusque and, surprisingly, exactly what she needed to hear. “Taking political prisoners is commonplace in our world. She won’t hurt him. She might torture him, but it won’t be anything he hasn’t endured before.
A glass of water she’d been watching on the coffee table shattered. Water scattered over the table, but the pieces of glass were swept up in a gust and immediately tossed into the fire. She looked up to see Ziri smirking at her with his terrifying black gaze.
“Who are you?” she asked.
His dark head bowed, and he swept back the striped robes he wore. “I am Ziri.”
“I know that. Who are you?”
Ziri said, “You are very much like your father, do you know?”
She felt Tenzin’s tension from across the room. Beatrice’s eyes darted to her father’s mate, who was watching her fellow wind vampire with suspicion. Tenzin remained silent and let Beatrice question him.
“I am. How did you know my father?”
The ancient vampire looked thoughtful for a moment, tilting his head while Beatrice examined him. He was definitely the ancient immortal she’d seen at Livia’s garden party. His skin was pockmarked and looked dusky from the sun. His features were a curious blend of Middle Eastern and African. Beatrice was reminded of a library exhibit she had helped curate about the Berber people of Morocco. But Ziri looked old, far older than the Berber people. He was ancient and curiously regal. Not a Berber, but then, North Africa had not always had the same names. She remembered Geber’s journals.
“Are you the Numidian?”
Ziri smiled again. The swirling amnis that surrounded him reached out to her hand, but she did not flinch when she felt the press of his ghostly greeting.
“I am Ziri. I am the Numidian of Jabir’s journals, and I was your father’s guardian... for as long as I was able.”
A few hours later, Matt stumbled into the library and looked around in confusion.
“Who’s the vampire sleeping in the second floor guest room? Hi, Tenzin. Who are you?” He looked at Ziri, then around the room with sharper eyes. “And where the hell is Gio?”
Beatrice sighed. “Sit down, Matt. I’ll explain.”
Tenzin spoke, “The vampire isn’t awake, is he?”
“No.”
“Good, he needs to rest.”
Carwyn and Beatrice both looked at her in confusion.
“What’s that?” the priest said.
Beatrice asked, “What are you talking about?”
Even though most vampires rested during the day, they didn’t ‘need’ to. Beatrice had never grown tired in a bodily sense, even though she rarely slept. She would weary, exhausted by her own thoughts, but that was why she meditated. Tenzin, she knew, was the same way.
“I’ll let him explain, but Lucien... He is…” Tenzin stammered, looking disturbed. “It’s difficult to say exactly. He is not... well.”
“Lucien Thrax?” Carwyn asked. He looked confused. Tenzin looked strangely nervous. Beatrice looked to Ziri. The old wind vampire looked like... nothing. She had never seen a face so carefully blank.
“Who’s Lucien?” Beatrice asked.
“Lucien Thrax—an old friend of mine. A very old friend. And he was a friend of—”
“Ioan’s.” Carwyn interrupted. “Lucien and Ioan were close correspondents. Lucien is a doctor, B. The son of the greatest healer the immortal world has ever known.”
“She’s also the oldest,” Tenzin said.
Carwyn nodded. “Lucien and Ioan were friends for many years. He’s one of the contacts that I was going to look for while I was here. He’s often in Eastern Europe.”
“He was in Bulgaria when I found him. I’d heard rumors.” Tenzin frowned. “He hadn’t heard about Ioan.”
Matt spoke up. “Bulgaria?”
Tenzin nodded.
Beatrice said, “Why do you ask, Matt?”
“Dez was doing research into Livia’s businesses. One of her companies owns a very small plant in Bulgaria. From what she could find out, it was pretty busy until about three years ago; then it was shut down. But not exactly. It was kept in operation, but with a skeleton staff and no product being shipped out, then a little over a year ago, they put out a hiring notice again. Nothing’s been shipped out yet, but the plant is in operation.”
Tenzin nodded. “That fits the timeline I’ve been thinking of. If Livia is using this plant to produce the elixir, that means they started just few months after Stephen was killed and Lorenzo took the manuscript.”
Beatrice asked Matt, “What was the cosmetics company making? Before it was shut down, what did they produce?”
Matt scowled. “High-end cosmetics for the European market. Using traditional, botanical ingredients.”
“That’s it.” Beatrice sighed. “It has to be.”
“B, I need to talk to Gio, there was something else—”
“Gio’s not here, Matt,” Beatrice said quietly.
She had never seen the man look more shocked. “What? It’s past dawn. He stayed at Livia’s? What the—”
“He stayed at Livia’s, but it wasn’t his choice,” Carwyn said. “She accused him of murdering Andros in front of the Roman vampires. She’s taken him prisoner.”
Matt’s mouth gaped. He looked at Beatrice. “B, is it—”
“Shut up!” Tenzin walked over and stood in front of Matt. The small woman looked up into the human’s shocked face. “Whatever you were about to ask, don’t.”
“But—”
“Does it matter to you? If Giovanni killed his sire? If he didn’t? Does it matter to you? Does it change your opinion of him or your loyalty to him?”
Matt just blinked. “No, of course not. I know what a good man he is.”
“Then don’t even ask. If you ask B, you’re forcing her to reveal information she holds in confidence or lie to you. Do you understand?”
Matt paused before he spoke. “Yes, Tenzin.”
“Good. Now, go get your wife. I want to know more about this company.”
Matt looked abashed when he was dismissed, and Beatrice tried to catch his eye, but she could tell the man was already focused on the task at hand. The thought of Matt and Dez working with them almost brought tears to her eyes. Part of her wanted to force them to return to Los Angeles with Ben, but the other part knew that she needed them more than ever.
“Hey.” She heard Ben’s voice at the door and turned. “What’s going on?” Ben yawned and rubbed his eyes. “And who’s the weird guy?”
Ziri smiled. “My name is Ziri, boy. And I am a friend of your aunt’s.”
“What’s going on? Matt looked really upset. Is everything alright?”
Beatrice waved him over, and Ben came to sit next to her. She blurted it out, knowing that nothing she said would soften the loss of his uncle. “Gio’s been taken prisoner, but he’s going to be fine.”
All the bravado fell from Ben’s face, and he looked like the insecure child she’d first laid eyes on in the bushes outside the Huntington Library years ago.
“What? He... he’s—”
Carwyn stepped in and put a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine. We’re going to get him out. It’ll just be—”
Ben shot out of his seat; anger spread across his face. He stalked over to Tenzin. “Where the hell have you been, Tenzin? If you were here, this wouldn’t have happened!”
Beatrice rose. “Ben, she was working on—”
“What does it matter if you find Lorenzo if Gio gets killed? Don’t you care about him?”
Tenzin said nothing, staring at the boy through her dark curtain of hair.
Ziri spoke quietly from the other side of the library. “Lorenzo is here, Benjamin. He’s working with Livia. He’s the reason your uncle was taken.”
Ben eyes darted between Ziri and Beatrice. He looked back at Tenzin. Beatrice could see his anger flee. “Is it true?”
Tenzin only nodded; she stiffened when Ben threw his arms around her. Tenzin waited for a moment, but finally lifted her small arms and hugged the young man back. Beatrice could hear Ben whisper, “Get him back, Tenzin. Please, get him back.” Then he spun on his heel and rushed out of the library. Beatrice could hear him climb the stairs to his room.
They spoke about details for a few more hours. Ziri asked for the use of a bedroom with a desk and some paper to write a few letters. Beatrice was still confused about what, exactly, his part in all this was. She got the impression that there was a lot that Ziri wasn’t telling them. She also got the impression he was waiting for the mysterious Lucien Thrax, who Tenzin thought would wake a few hours after dark. Beatrice was still confused why such an old vampire needed so much sleep.
Matt had already been on the phone with Emil Conti’s people, arranging a meeting with Carwyn and their boss for the following night. Dez and Tenzin were talking about the details of the Bulgarian cosmetics company.
And Beatrice felt lost.
Finally, she realized she would be useless for anything until she could spend some time alone. She climbed the stairs to their room, only to find Ben sitting outside on the floor by the door. He looked up with red eyes.
“I know you usually don’t let anyone in your room, but—”
“Come in.”
Beatrice unlocked the door and she and Ben entered. She fought back the tears when she saw the rumpled bed Giovanni hadn’t made because they were rushing to get ready for the party the night before. A damp towel was tossed on the floor by the couch. She picked it up and inhaled the distinctive smoky smell of her mate’s skin a moment before she crumpled to the floor.
She felt Ben’s hands lifting her and pulling her to the couch. He grabbed a linen handkerchief from his pocket. He had taken to always carrying them, just like his uncle. He joked that it impressed the girls.
“I need to calm down,” she whispered, patting the bloody tears from her eyes. “He needs me to be thinking straight. To be calm and smart and—”
“It’s okay, B. It’s just us, okay?” She could hear the hitch in his voice. “For right now, it’s okay. It’s just me.”
She sniffed and tried to remember when Ben had grown up. It had happened without her even realizing it. The young man threw an arm around her shoulders, and Beatrice allowed herself to lean into him. Ben rocked back and forth, comforting his aunt and sniffing back his own tears.
Beatrice looked over to their bed and knew that she would not lay in it again until her husband returned to her. Ben was murmuring comforting words in her ear, his arms tight around her shoulders. Beatrice finally let herself close her eyes and let go of the sorrow that she’d held back for hours.
Ben was right. It was just them.
Chapter Ten
Crotone
1504
He heard Andros’s heavy step in the hall. Jacopo looked up for a moment, but quickly returned to the translation of the Arabic manuscript he was working on. It was one that his father had rescued from the destruction of the Mongols in Baghdad.
The door swept open and Andros walked over and patted his shoulder. Jacopo heard Paulo follow, carrying a heavy trunk.
“Son, it is good to be home.”
“How was Rome?”
“As expected,” Andros said. “She grows more pompous every century. I can’t imagine why Livia thinks so much of herself when this detestable country is run by thieves, mad priests, and inbreeds.”
Jacopo glanced at Paulo, but the young man only rolled his eyes. Jacopo had been with Andros for almost ten years, Paulo even longer, and both the men were used to the unpredictable moods of the vampire.
A visit to Rome, however, only ever raised Andros’s ire.
“But the trip to Florence was a pleasure. The ugly sculptor finished his statue of David, and it was installed in front of the civic house while we were there. A true masterwork. A pity the human is so detestable in his form. Otherwise, he might be worth turning for his talent.”
Jacopo’s ears perked up. “You went to Florence?”