Authors: Elizabeth Hunter
After a few tense moments, he pulled the starburst from the thin channel and pushed the door open, revealing a dark, earthen passageway. Gavin, who must have been tiring, tossed him through. Then he flew back. Giovanni waited only a few moments before Jean entered the tunnel behind him. They both waited longer—much longer—before Gavin and Deirdre entered. Gavin, Giovanni noted with some amusement, looked decidedly more energetic.
“I can smell fresh air,” Gavin said. “Deirdre, can you tell where it leads?”
She held her hands out and ran both along the walls as she walked forward. “Southwest. It’s long and sloping. If it keeps at this angle it would exit… past the castle wall, I imagine.”
Jean said, “Let’s keep to the plan. The party must still be going on, which means that Carwyn, Tenzin, and Beatrice are still upstairs.”
His heart leapt. “Beatrice?”
Gavin held a hand out. “You’ll see your woman soon, but not here. Livia has to find you missing and discover that none of them—”
“Fuck Livia,” he almost shouted. “I want to see my wife.”
Deirdre stepped in front of him and put a hand on his chest. “Calm down, Gio. She’s the one that came up with this plan.”
“Hey!” Gavin looked rather offended, but Deirdre only rolled her eyes.
“With input from our resident thief, of course.”
“Retired,” Gavin said. “Mostly.”
Giovanni could still feel his skin heating in anticipation. The smell of smoke was sweet in his nose, and he imagined Livia’s skin turning black as she screamed. The steam began to rise from his wet arms.
“Gio, listen.” Deirdre spoke more urgently, sensing his growing tension. “Jean and I will tunnel back down to the river and escape that way. Gavin is going to fly you to his house… somewhere. No one knows but he and Beatrice. Your wife has spent days planning this with my father and Tenzin to orchestrate some particular outcome, so don’t spoil this plan by losing your head.”
Giovanni took a deep breath and tried to shove back the fire that wanted to burst out. He smothered the desire for Livia’s blood for the moment. She would still burn, he vowed, but he would respect his wife’s wisdom in this and wait to hear her plan. “Fine. Gavin, take me out of this damned place.”
“Don’t order me around. You already owe me one. More than that if we’re—“
“Be quiet. This is not the time to argue,” Deirdre cut in. She gave Giovanni a quick hug before she turned to Gavin and halted. The two stood in awkward silence until she said, “Don’t drop him.” Then she turned to the wall of the tunnel, lifted her hands, and the earth moved in front of her. Jean gave Gavin and Giovanni a smile and a small salute before following.
“Well…” Gavin cleared his throat. “Let’s get going. I’m starting to hear voices below.”
Giovanni could hear both voices and water as the large, empty room they had flown through began to fill from the chamber and the river below. The two men rushed up the passageway; the walls and floors were smooth, even if the air was stale and ancient. When the smell of fresh air became more evident, they slowed and listened. Gavin shook his head and whispered, “I hear nothing.”
“Agreed.” Giovanni pushed through a loose pile of rocks that blocked the passage and peeked out. They were on the side of a hill, and he could see the lights of the castle in the distance. They had wound south and then west to a slope that overlooked Livia’s stronghold. He swallowed, imagining his wife sitting in the glittering salons of Livia’s court. So close, yet still past his reach. He swallowed the growl and turned back to Gavin. “Get me out of here. If I can’t see her, take me to where I can.”
“Orders, orders. Why must he always issue orders?” Gavin shook his head. “I’m not one of your minions, you know. And I’ll be more than happy to be done with my part in all this.”
“Fine. Then get me out of here.”
Gavin picked him up under the shoulders and lifted into the air. “You try to do a favor for someone—”
“How much are you getting paid, Gav?”
He could feel, rather than hear, Gavin laugh as they cut through the air, heading north. “A rather princely sum, of course.”
“Carwyn or my wife?”
“Your wife drives a hard bargain, Dr. Vecchio. And she’s cute. It’s deceiving really, hardly fair.”
Giovanni felt the smile curve his lips. His wife. He would see her soon. Within hours, hopefully. As if anticipating the question, Gavin said, “I’ll drop you off and then go back for her. I should be able to get her to you by dawn.”
“Good.”
“And yes, you will be somewhere very secluded.”
“Good.”
“Do me a favor, though, and try not to break any
retaining
walls, please.”
He smirked. “I’ll try my best, but I can’t make any promises.”
“You know what? You’re just going to buy this house from me. It’s sure to sustain damage, and I’ll never get the mental pictures out of my mind.”
“Done.”
“It’s not her, mind you. Picturing
her—
”
“It’s very important that you shut up now, Gavin.”
They were whipping over the Italian countryside, flying well out of range of human eyes. The air was cold, but the anticipation of seeing Beatrice warmed him to his soul. They flew over the rolling hills of Tuscany, past the lights that illuminated Milan, finally climbing the foothills, then the mountains of Northern Italy and into the Alps. They passed high above the water, and the lights from the homes along the lake’s edge glowed in the darkness. The long, uninterrupted line slowly scattered as they approached a large inlet where a single home was nestled between the hills and the water.
“Home, sweet home.” He heard Gavin sigh.
“You don’t actually have to sell me the house, if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s for the best. I’ve been here too long, as it is.”
Giovanni thought for a moment, then smiled. “You mean you’ve slept with all the attractive women nearby?”
“Exactly. I’ve ruined them for all others, so it’s perfect for an old married man like you.”
“Thank you so much.”
Gavin dropped him off on the sloping dock that stretched into the water and flew into the house. He emerged a few minutes later with a bag of blood for himself and tossed another to Giovanni. He bit, ignoring the stale taste of the refrigerated blood and enjoying the peace of mind that came with not worrying about whether his meal was poisoned or not.
His reluctant host tossed him the empty bag and then took to the air without further ado as Giovanni paced the dock and tried to imagine how he would pass the hours until he saw Beatrice again. Deciding that he needed to cool down and wash the stink of Livia’s prison from him, he stripped off his tattered clothes and dove into the lake.
Giovanni swam for what might have been hours, up and down the lake. He went in the house and drank another bag of blood. He swam to the bottom of the lake and watched the moon track across the sky. The minutes dragged into hours while he waited for her.
He was floating on the surface of the water and staring up at the stars when he heard the splash. Startled, he sat up, only to be tackled from behind by two familiar arms.
“You’re here!” she cried, wrapping herself around him. “You’re really here.”
“Tesoro.” He groaned a moment before their mouths met in a furious kiss.
Her legs tangled with his. The force of her embrace took his breath away. He held her close, aching to feel her amnis spread over his skin. Giovanni tore his mouth from her kiss and stripped the clothes from her body until they were pressed together and their energy combined again. His hands raced over her and held her in an iron grasp.
Beatrice’s hand tugged at his arms, his back, pulling him close. Closer. Not close enough. In the blink of an eye, he grasped her hips and slid into her. She bit into his shoulder as they sank beneath the surface of the water.
And suddenly, he was home.
Chapter Sixteen
Lake Maggiore
Switzerland
June 2012
Water. Blood. Warm blood running down her throat. The grasp of hands. His hands. Her mate’s hands. Her mate’s blood.
He was back.
Beatrice felt his feet hit the lakebed a moment before Giovanni’s long legs began striding toward the shore. She remained wrapped around his body, clutching him tightly. He held her as they rose from the water only to kneel in the long grass at the lake’s edge. Steam rose from his body as he began moving in her again. Her hands dug into the earth around them and she arched her back, desperate for his touch.
Her first climax hit like a sudden wave, and she cried into the night. Her mate said nothing, only growling as his arm reached behind her, lifting her body as her head fell back. His fangs struck hard and deep in her throat, and he drank from her. The sharp bite threw her over another crest, but he did not halt feasting from her neck as she sobbed in relief and pulled him even closer. Her nails dug into his shoulders until he reared back, blood dripping from his lips and fangs gleaming white in the moonlight.
Blue fire swirled across his body, illuminating his arms and chest. His hands gripped Beatrice’s hips and she lifted her body to move with him. Fast. Faster. Every layer of civilization burned away in their desperate need. She could feel the water drawn to her skin, protecting it from the scorch of Giovanni’s hands, but nothing could protect her from the passionate assault of her mate’s body. She didn’t want it to. His eyes held hers as he moved, pinning her to the ground as effectively as his touch.
He finally pulled her up and pressed her against his chest. His hands tangled in her dripping hair and she felt him pull at the nape of her neck, angling her face up to his. Her skin hissed and a cloud of steam enveloped them. His hands and hips set a punishing rhythm, but his mouth was tender as it explored her face. He kissed her forehead, the swell of her cheeks, the arch of her brows. She felt his lips burn across the line of her jaw before his mouth dipped down and his fangs pierced the other side of her neck. She came again, and he clutched her closer as he drank. A low growl grew in his chest until he threw his head back and roared his release into the night.
Beatrice collapsed in his arms as the fire covering his skin waned, and the cloud of steam drifted away on the night breeze. His movement slowed. The iron cage of his arms softened, and his hands began to stroke down her back as Giovanni murmured in a hoarse voice. She sobbed in pleasure and relief, but he only pressed her closer.
“
Ubi amo; ibi patria. Calma, Tesoro. Ti amo, Beatrice. Calma.
”
She blinked away the tears and buried her face in his neck, inhaling the rich smoke of his skin. She could feel her blood leaping within him, and his amnis pulsed and swirled around her. Beatrice felt Giovanni tilt his neck to the side and press her mouth closer.
“Drink from me, Beatrice. Please, drink.”
Beatrice gave a small cry before she bit into the thick vein at his neck. His blood burned down her throat, inflaming her desire again. She reached down and felt him grow hard in her hand as the muscles of his chest tensed.
She pulled away from his vein with a contented sigh, licking his rich blood from her lips and letting her fangs scrape over his chest.
“More,” she whispered.
He laid her down in the long grass and stretched out next to her. This time, they were slow. Languorous and lazy with soft hands and long strokes. She pressed her mouth to his and inhaled his breath when he entered her. Tears ran down her cheeks, but he kissed them away. They moved together as the night birds sang to warn of the dawn.
Hours later, Beatrice still felt like she could not stop touching him. They had finally taken shelter in the house when the morning chased away the stars. The bedroom lay at the very center of the home, surrounded by winding hallways that shielded it from the sun. They had laughed and joked as they wandered through the labyrinth of a house, turning first into the kitchen, then an office, a sitting room, and a library before they finally discovered a room with a bed.
“I hope you like this house, Beatrice, because I believe we’re buying it from Gavin. He said something about mental pictures.”
“Well, seeing as we…
enjoyed
his kitchen—”
“And his library.”
“I think you punched a hole in one of the walls in the hall.”
“You tore up some of the carpet in the study.”
“Then I can’t blame him.” She laughed. “And I like it. It’s like a maze. Only, instead of a minotaur at the middle, you finally get to the bedroom.”
“And a comfortable bed is far better than being gored to death.”
She snorted. “Is that supposed to be a joke about your sexual performance?”
He barked out a laugh, but then grew very quiet. He pulled down the sheets to inspect her. “I wasn’t too rough was I? Did I hurt you?”
“Don’t be silly.” She stroked along his shoulders, running her fingers through his hair. “I needed that as much as you did. I was a mess without you.”
He buried his face in her neck and took a deep breath. His skin was still warm, but comfortingly so. And his amnis wrapped around her tightly, curling and twisting as it met hers, binding them together as surely as their bodies were linked.
“I dreamt about you.”
“In prison?”
“Yes.” He paused and his fingers encircled her wrist. “I think it was the only thing that kept me sane.”
“Did she hurt you?”
He was silent, and the fury ran hot within her. Beatrice gritted her teeth and hissed. “She will die.”
“When we get back to Rome—” He broke off when he felt her tense up. “What is it?”
“I don’t want to talk about Livia. You should get some sleep. There will be plenty of time to talk about this stuff later. Right now, I just want to lay with you and try to rest.”
He pulled her chin around and forced her to look into his eyes. He was frowning, and Beatrice knew that he was not satisfied with her answer.
“Fine, but you’re explaining that later.”
“Okay.”
He tucked her under his arm and pulled the sheets up to cover her.