Authors: Elizabeth Hunter
She shook her head. “They’re watching for me. She has guards that are covering her from the air while she pulls this damn water up.”
“Go. Get as many of our allies as you can and bring them here to the back of the room. Then I need you to bring the wind.”
Tenzin cocked her head. “Truly?”
Giovanni’s voice was hoarse. “I need a hurricane, bird girl.”
Tenzin narrowed her eyes, but nodded before she took to the air.
A kind of barricade built up as they killed and tossed the bodies of Livia’s guards around them in the back corner of the room. Carwyn continued to protect them as Emil gathered his strength in the corner. Beatrice saw the ancient Roman grow stronger with each breath as the water grew higher. He grabbed a passing guard and bit his neck as the vampire screamed in agony. Then he broke his victim’s spine and tossed him on the growing pile.
She felt Giovanni tug on her arm. “Tesoro, we need to end this. We have to kill her.”
Beatrice wiped a spray of blood from her face. “How—”
“As soon as Tenzin gathers as many of our allies as she can, she’ll bring a whirlwind to this side of the room. That will block her guards; they won’t be able to get through.”
“But the water. She’s pulling from the river; there’s no end to it. I’ve tried! I can’t hold it back.”
He turned to face her and shook her shoulders. “
Don’t
hold it back! You and Emil must pull the water away from her.”
“I can’t!” Tears came to her eyes. She was exhausted, and Livia had not lifted a sword.
“You have to. Tenzin’s wind will help. As soon as the room is dry enough, I can finish this.”
A sick feeling rooted in her stomach. “How?”
“You will take shelter in the water. The wind and the water will protect you from the fire. You will be in the eye off the whirlwind with the water around you. The flames will
not
get through.”
She hacked the head off two guards and spun on her mate. “What are you going to do?” she screamed.
Taking advantage of a brief moment of calm, Giovanni cupped her bloody cheek in his hand. In the background, she heard the fall of their allies as Tenzin tossed them to safety. Then the air grew eerily still as the ancient wind vampire began to stir the wind around them.
Beatrice looked up to meet her husband’s eyes. “Gio, please…”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers as the wind grew stronger. Soon, Beatrice, Giovanni, and all their friends were surrounded by a screaming vortex that Tenzin whipped into a frenzy. Giovanni wrapped her in his arms, and Beatrice held him tightly, refusing to let go. He finally pulled away, and she could see his look of resolve.
“Pull the water into the whirlwind, Beatrice.”
She choked back the tears. “You can’t.”
“I must.” He stroked her cheek tenderly. “Pull the water in, Tesoro. Emil cannot do it alone.”
She looked over her shoulder as the tears fell down her cheeks. Emil was pulling the water in, and the air around them grew damp and humid as he forced the water away from Livia and into Tenzin’s storm. Carwyn’s arms held up the ceiling as the floor trembled. In the distance, Beatrice heard Livia scream when she realized what Emil was doing.
“Pull the water in, Beatrice. You have the strength.
I love you
,” he whispered. “So much. And you are exactly who you need to be. All of this has happened for a reason. Now let me do my part.”
She sobbed as she reached up and clutched his neck, pulling his mouth to hers in one final kiss before she let go with a hoarse cry and lifted her arms. Beatrice felt the rage and the power well up from the very center of her being. She grabbed Emil’s hand and held onto it as the amnis rushed between them and they pulled the water into the storm. The room around them grew dark as the lights went out, but they stood protected in the eye of the small hurricane. The wind around them grew thick with mud and ash, until all she could see was the swirling black of wind and water, and the grim resolve on Giovanni’s face.
He caught her eye one last time before Tenzin plucked him from the center of the storm and lifted him up and over the wall of wind and water. Beatrice let go of Emil’s hand and screamed in rage as she pulled at the river. She could feel the water around her, flexing and answering her call. It danced and sang, waiting for her command.
Immortals around her gaped in silent awe as strings of water reached down to touch each finger, and Beatrice lifted her face to see Tenzin floating in the air above. Her friend hovered for a moment with tears in her eyes, before she came and landed in front of Beatrice, who continued to hold the water in the wind.
“Pull it in, my girl. All the way. The room is dry, but he needs you to protect us so he can finish this.”
“No!” Beatrice cried out in anguish when she saw Tenzin’s tears.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Tenzin placed one hand on her shoulder, and she felt Carwyn’s hand press against her back, holding her as she reined in her element. Beatrice finally nodded, and the water rushed over her skin, comforting her and washing away her tears. Then she called the river over them. As soon as the vampires were enveloped in their watery sanctuary, the room around them erupted in fire, and Beatrice fell to her knees.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Castello Furio, Rome
November 2012
The air was dry and crackled with energy as Giovanni stalked toward her. Livia was trying to call the water toward her, but the river that poured from the gash in the marble floor was pulled with ever greater ferocity toward the storm on the far end of the hall.
Livia was no match for his mate.
He flexed his arms, and the fire burst forth.
Livia turned furious eyes toward him. “Stop!”
Giovanni kept walking, and the guards that rushed toward him turned to ash as he threw out streams of fire that enveloped them as they ran.
More
.
The dry air fed the flames. He stepped over the bodies that littered the intricate marble mosaics on the floor.
More
.
The flames grew higher. He could still hear the sound of voices calling from the eye of the storm. Once they were silent, he knew they were safe. That
she
was safe.
More
.
Livia’s guards scurried and ran around him, trying to find an opening to attack, but his fire only burned hotter in an ever-widening perimeter of flames.
The water rushed into the wind, pulled by his mate’s extraordinary power. The flames along his body grew brighter. The blue fire singed his hair and the smell of it caused a rush of memories. Her cries when Lorenzo had taken her. The punch of a bullet as he fought toward her in the belly of a ship. Her tears on a lonely riverbank.
“You are my balance in this life. In every life.”
Giovanni felt the last scraps of his clothes burn away as he walked toward Livia. With each step, the fire grew. He could feel it, the slow, angry shiver underneath his skin, quivering in anticipation, begging to burst forth. And at the core of his being, Giovanni realized he was exhausted. He could imagine no greater release than to finally release the fire he had suppressed for over five hundred years. He closed his eyes and thought of Beatrice.
The feel of her mouth on his skin.
Her soft sigh as she curled into his body.
The curve of her lips just before she smiled.
“I love you, Jacopo.”
He met Livia’s angry glare, and he could see the moment she truly began to panic.
“Stop!” she cried, giving up the water and snatching a blade from one of her guards. “Go no farther or my men will kill you!”
Giovanni came to a halt, but her guards no longer tried to approach him. The flames churned out, swirling and pulsing along the ground, reaching up the steps and curling around the legs of each vampire who screamed and fell away.
Livia’s eyes narrowed. “If you do this, you will kill everyone in this room. Including your precious wife and friends.”
Just then, the sound of the wind grew still. The room was utterly silent, and Giovanni knew that Beatrice had pulled the water over them. They were protected.
His mouth turned up at the corner, and Livia’s eyes widened in terror as she loosed a feral scream. Giovanni whispered, “Enough.”
Then he lifted his burning arms and released the fire.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Castello Furio, Rome
November 2012
Beatrice had no idea how long she screamed, or how long the fire raged around them. The barrier of water she had erected held against the flames, just like he knew it would. The angry, red glow lit up the room and pressed against them as they huddled in their watery cocoon.
Was it minutes? Hours? Suddenly, the room blacked out.
She rose from her knees, lifted her arms, and brought a fall of water. It fell over and around them, rushing along the floors, pulling black ash from the room as the river returned to its course. Beatrice walked forward and surveyed the room that had been burnt beyond recognition. Slowly the river receded and floating just along the edge of the room was the pale form of her mate.
“Gio!”
She screamed and pulled the water back before he could be swept away. The river answered her and brought his body to her hands. She clutched his naked form; it was cold and limp in her arms. There was a rush of energy, then Tenzin and Carwyn stood at her side.
“God in Heaven,” Carwyn breathed out.
“He’s alive,” Tenzin said. “How could he be alive?”
“No,” Beatrice shook her head and pressed her hands to his temples. Every hair on Giovanni’s body had burned away. His skin was smooth and unmarred, but he was cold. Colder than she had ever felt. “I can’t feel him. I can’t feel his mind. What’s wrong? I can’t feel him!” Her voice rose in hysteria.
“Shhh,” Tenzin soothed her. “He must be alive. He is here. He is unmarked. He must be—”
“I can’t feel him!”
she screamed again, clutching him to her chest. She bit her wrist and held it to his lifeless lips. “Please. Please, Gio, please.”
A drop of red blood fell into his mouth, but he did not move to swallow it. She pressed on his throat, willing him to taste her blood. His blood. The blood that ran between them. But there was nothing.
Beatrice rocked him in her arms as the surviving vampires crowded around them. She felt Carwyn’s hand on her shoulder and flinched.
“Darling girl—”
“Get away! All of you!” She pulled Giovanni’s body toward the scorched stone steps and held him close, still rocking him back and forth and whispering in his ear.
“Come back to me, Jacopo,” she said. “Remember, you said you would always find me. I’m here, love. Come back to me. I need you to find me now.”
She could feel the eyes of the room on her. She could see the worried stares of her friends, but she ignored them and placed a hand over his heart. “They don’t understand. They don’t know. I can feel your blood in me. It
hasn’t
cried out, so I know you’re still there. You just need to come back to me. They don’t know. But you do.
Ubi amo; ibi patria.
Hundreds of years. Thousands of miles.” She choked back her tears. “Pain. Loss. It’s so clear to me now. You are my home. You just need to come back to me, Jacopo.”
He didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t make a single movement. He lay still and cold and lifeless in her arms. But a faint hum of energy sparked under Beatrice’s hands, and Giovanni’s heart gave a single thump.
“Anything yet?”
“She’s stayed with him all day, but no.”
Beatrice could hear the whispers outside her room, but she ignored them.
“No movement at all?”
“She says she can feel his mind, and his amnis is a little stronger, but he hasn’t moved or opened his eyes.”
The sun rose in the sky, she could feel the pull of the moon, but Beatrice lay still and silent next to her husband, willing him to return to her. Willing him to heal from whatever black void had taken over his mind.
“Blood?”
“She’s tried, but it just lays on his lips. She keeps trying to force it down his throat, but nothing.”
Beatrice and Giovanni lay in their bedroom of the house in Rome as the city continued its maddening march.
A day.
A week.
Emil Conti was slowly pulling the immortals of Rome back from the madness of Livia’s rule. The immediate and vocal support of Terrance Ramsay in London, Jean Desmarais in Marseilles, Oleg in Russia, and many other prominent immortal courts helped to ease the transition. Even more unexpected was the public support of the fabled Elders of Penglai Island.
“Any change?”
“No, and she told us to stop asking.”
Lorenzo had disappeared again. This time, no one claimed to support him. Whatever connections he might have held, whatever sneaking influence he’d clung to, had been severed by the knowledge that the devious vampire had willingly supported Livia’s quest for an elixir that could render even an ancient immortal helpless.
“She needs to drink. She hasn’t fed in over a week.”
“I know.”
Ziri, Arosh, and Kato had disappeared as if their presence had been a dream. Though rumors of the ancients’ appearance ran wild through Rome, the whole saga of Livia’s defeat, and all that had led up to it, was quickly becoming more vague speculation than actual knowledge. Wild tales rose up, but the Roman noblewoman was no more. Dwelling in the past was useless. Emil Conti was the power in Rome, and despite the loss of his wife, he had quickly gathered a strong group of allies around him. There was no question who had control of the city.
“Anything?”
“I think we need to stop asking.”