The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (113 page)

“There could be another reason that we’re not seeing.”

He turned at Stephen’s soft voice. “What? For why Lorenzo wants the elixir?”

“Yes.”

“There’s much we don’t know, so his motivations could be endless.”

“I still think there is something we’re not seeing about the effects. I agree with Tenzin.”

Giovanni leaned back in his chair. “I’m also curious how he thinks he might produce it. He would need reliable immortal blood donors, and he can only create water vampires, so he must have some plan for that.”

“And he would need a lab to create the elixir once the formula was decoded. It wouldn’t be easy. My contact in Rome—”

“Who is this contact you mention?” Giovanni had noted it before, but now, he went on alert.

Stephen only shook his head. “I don’t know, to be completely honest. It’s someone that found me years ago when I was still running from Lorenzo. There was a note in my hotel room in Warsaw when I came back from the National Archives. It just said, ‘I’m here to help.’ I was terrified at first, thinking that someone had found me and would reveal me to Lorenzo, but he always seemed to step in at exactly the right time to help. Since then, he has left me information at hotels, or sent it to my address in Brasilia. Tips about research. Clues leading me to Geber’s other work. It was all… rather friendly, to be honest. I came to think of him as a friend, even though I really didn’t have any way to contact him. I haven’t received anything since I’ve been here. The last communication was the mention of Elder Zhang’s name.”

“But how do you know he’s from Rome?”

“He mentioned it once. He either lives there or visits a lot, I’m sure of it. I’m assuming it’s a man only because the handwriting looks masculine. He’s the one that told me when you went to Livia’s to negotiate for Beatrice after Lorenzo took her. He’s kept me apprised of Lorenzo’s movements so I could keep one step ahead of him. He told me you were tracking me. One of his last letters to me said that Lorenzo had been researching private pharmaceutical labs in Eastern Europe.”

Giovanni’s mind raced. He tried to think who in Rome could be so well-connected that he would have access to all that information. Not only did this immortal know Stephen’s whereabouts, but he also seemed to have intimate knowledge of the manuscript.

Stephen’s voice broke through his internal reverie. “Has Beatrice been to Rome?”

Giovanni shook his head. “No. I’ll not take her until… well, it’s not time for that yet.”

“Does Livia know about her?”

“I’ve kept her apprised of the situation.”

Stephen smiled. “I’m sure it’s a comfort to her to know you have found someone after so long.”

Giovanni gave a tight smile. “Yes.”

“I’m sure she will love Beatrice. And your father would, as well.”

And
I’m sure he wouldn’t have.

Andros’s blanket disdain for women was something that his sire had hidden fairly well, but Giovanni only said, “There are few that meet your daughter that don’t love her.”

“When was the last time you were in Rome?”

Giovanni chose another book, wishing that Stephen would choose another subject. “When I went to petition for her release. It was a complicated visit.”

“I’m sure it was. The two of you should go back after all this is over. I know it has been a joy to me to see the two of you together. We always want our children to find someone that loves them with such devotion.”

He flashed back to a memory of his father and Livia, the blanket of manipulation lying heavy over their last visit to Rome in 1506. There had been no joy between them. Any affection Livia had ever had for Giovanni was layered in self-interest.

“I’m sure we will go eventually.”

“There have been many times over the years when I wished I could have met your father. His library was an inspiration to me.”

Giovanni smothered his instinctual reaction, as he had for over five hundred years. “I’m very pleased Andros’s collection has been preserved. Even if it is not in my hands. You have no idea where it is now?”

Stephen shook his head. “When I first discovered it, it was in Ferrara. But after Lorenzo took me, he moved everything to an old villa in Perugia. That was where I was held for the first three years after I was turned. And where I escaped from.”

Giovanni’s eyes darted up. “Perugia?”

Stephen smiled. “Yes, a beautiful old place. I heard it was the site of a medieval fortress of some kind that had burned down. The villa was built in the seventeenth century.”

“Brigands, Livia. Everything was destroyed. The servants fled. If Father had not sent Lorenzo and I to Crotone on that errand, we would have been destroyed, too.”

She had sobbed in the middle of the court. “It cannot be! My Andros, my Niccolo! How will I survive without him?”

“I am so sorry.”

She had embraced him in front of the throngs, his newly turned son standing behind him. “You are such a comfort to me, Giovanni. Such a comfort. To have Niccolo’s beloved son in my court is… such a comfort.” Her eyes lit with calculation. “You must stay for a time.”

“I—of course I will stay. For a time.”

“Yes.” She had stroked his arm. “Of course you will, my darling Giovanni.”

Had Lorenzo rebuilt Andros’s old villa? Giovanni had given him property nearby, but had his son recreated the villa where they had murdered his sire? Giovanni shook his head and focused back on Beatrice’s father, who had been staring at him.

“I’m sorry to bring up your father. I forget that some losses can still be painful, even after so many years.”

Giovanni cleared his throat. “Yes, I don’t think about him much anymore.”

“You were fortunate to have had the time with him that you did.” Stephen smiled. “Not all of us had such excellent examples of immortal life.”

Giovanni forced a smile. “Fortunate. Yes, Stephen. I was very… fortunate.”

Hours passed, and it was just before dawn when he heard a commotion in the courtyard. An unwelcome scent hit him, and he rose swiftly to rush out the door. His ears tuned to Baojia’s voice.

“Get back! I have her. Just stay back and someone get the Italian, dammit!”

He raced down the hall, flames erupting along his collar when he saw Baojia carrying Beatrice in his arms like a child. She was unconscious. Her face had a grey pallor, and she was bleeding from a cut on her forehead.

“What the hell happened?” he shouted.

“She got away from her guards. I found her in a creek outside the palace grounds. She was face down, but I drew the water out of her lungs. She’s stable now.”

Baojia handed Beatrice’s limp body to him, and he forced back the flames when he heard her rasping breath and steady pulse. She was still unconscious, but the color was returning to her face. He placed his palm on her temple, but her mind felt only as if it was sleeping, and he sensed no damage, so he heated his arms to warm her cold body.

Tenzin came down the hall with Stephen on her heels. “I will kill those guards. How a human could escape them is beyond me.”

“Where were you?” Giovanni growled at Baojia. The water vampire glared at him.

“I thought it best to let someone else protect her for a few minutes so we didn’t kill each other, di Spada. Trust me, she was in a foul mood. Someone would have been injured.”

“Someone was injured, you fool!”

Giovanni strode to their room, laying her on the bed and covering her with the thick blankets before he turned on Baojia, Tenzin, and Stephen, who had followed them.

“All of you, go away.” He spotted Nima in the corner. “Nima, can you bring her some broth, please?”

Tenzin only cocked her head, examining Beatrice’s limp form. “You’re lucky it was Baojia that found her. If there hadn’t been a water vampire around—”

“I’m well aware of the consequences, Tenzin.”

“I’m just saying you shouldn’t be so mad. She was lucky this time.”

“Tenzin, get out.”

His old friend didn’t leave. “You need to get over this attachment to her pulse, my boy. Her mortal life—”

“Out!”

Stephen grabbed Tenzin’s arm and pulled her to the door, but not before sending his daughter one longing glance over Giovanni’s shoulder. Fortunately, he didn’t try to approach the irate, territorial vampire who hovered over her. Baojia followed them, and Giovanni knelt down beside Beatrice and stroked her forehead. The cut was oozing blood, so he pierced his tongue and healed it, cleaning the wound and the blood that was smeared on her forehead. His hands framed her face, and he could feel her start to wake.

“Gio?” Her voice was rasping.

“You’re in bed, Beatrice. You fell. Or were pushed. You almost drowned. Do you have any memory of it?”

He suspected she wouldn’t. The water had washed away any scent on her, but her mind bore the telltale smudge of amnis. A vampire had attacked her. His son, probably, but there would be no proof. Lorenzo had been waiting for his opportunity, and Beatrice’s stubborn and independent nature had provided it.

“I was… taking a walk in the forest.”

“By yourself?” He tried to tamp down his anger.

“Yes, by myself.” She must have seen his expression and she scowled. “Do you know what it’s like to go weeks with people hovering around you? I was going crazy.”

“So you left the palace grounds and left yourself open to attack?”

She winced and brought a hand up to her forehead. “Can we not argue about this right now? Can we just… I have a headache.”

He glared at her. “We are talking about it now, because you might have been killed. How could you be so foolish?”

She curled her lip. “How could I be so… you know what? You try having people hovering over you twenty-four hours a day and see how you do.” She sat up in bed, color rushing to her face as her temper built up steam. “You try being the one constantly protected! Having your mind open to anyone that can get their hands on you. Being constantly under the threat of manipulation from any vampire who even brushes your skin. Have you thought about that?”

“Beatrice—”

“Have you ever thought about the fact that one touch from anyone untrustworthy would make me their puppet? Let them discover any of the secrets I know? And I’d have no way of protecting myself or the people I love! I might not even remember telling them.”

His stomach churned at the thought, but his mind fought against the words she threw at him.

“I’m sick of it! I’m sick of all of this.” Giovanni knew what she was going to say before her mouth even opened. “Gio, I’m ready.”

He sat back on his heels, as his heart began to thump. “No.”

“What is your problem? What?” She leaned toward him. “You wanted me to have a choice? Well, this is my choice. I want to be a vampire. And I don’t want to wait. This vulnerability—”

“Beatrice, you have no idea—”

“I have a very good idea what I’m giving up. I’m ready.”

He shook his head and began pacing the room. “No.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not ready.”

“I am.”

He tugged at his hair as he paced. “No!”

“It is not your choice.”

Giovanni knelt by the bed, placing both hands on her cheeks. He could feel her pulse pounding in her neck, and his desperate heart raced along with it. “Don’t I have a say in this? Haven’t I earned that? Why does it have to be right now?”

She shook her head, her eyes pleading with him. “You know why,” she whispered.

“I don’t! If you would just stay with me—”

“I can’t do that, love.” She shook her head, tears building in her eyes. “I can’t live my life under constant protection. I want to be able to protect myself. I don’t want to be vulnerable anymore. I don’t want my mind to be someone else’s open book!”

For a brief moment, he panicked at the thought of Beatrice being forced to give up the secrets she held. His conversation with Stephen had reminded him that if his and Lorenzo’s secret were ever discovered, their lives would both be forfeit to a very powerful immortal. Only one human knew the truth about his father’s death.

Only Beatrice.

And her mind
was
an open book.

Her eyes pleaded with him. “Jacopo, you know I’m right. You know—”

“There has to be another way.” She still had no idea what she would be giving up, and the tears fell down her face.

“There isn’t!”

They were interrupted by a quiet knock at the door. Nima came in, bearing a bowl of broth with a soft smile and a gentle pat on Beatrice’s cheek. She looked between the two of them before she slipped out the door.

Giovanni walked over and secured the room, twisting the locks closed as he heard Beatrice go to the washroom. He heard the shower start to flow, but he stayed in the bedroom, listening to her as she washed the attack from her body.

She thought she knew so much, but as mature as she was, he knew she didn’t truly understand how much her life would change. It was impossible.

He was still sitting in the armchair when she came out, wrapped in a soft white towel. There wasn’t much time before dawn. Beatrice walked over and sat on his lap, curling into his chest.