The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (148 page)

The laugh caused her rage to bubble up again, and Carwyn’s grip on her grew even tighter as he pushed her to a small alcove.

“Lord in Heaven, you are strong, B.”

“Let me go.” Her voice sounded foreign to her ears. Quiet. Feral.

“That’s really not the best move right now. If you were in your right mind, you’d know that.”

“Let me go.”

“We have to find out more. She won’t harm him. Look around the room. Everyone’s in shock. She’s going to feel out the crowd before she makes a move. I have a feeling she’s not pleased. I somehow doubt Lorenzo was supposed to show up tonight. She’s not happy with him.”

His arms embraced her, but they were not Giovanni’s arms. She began to shake again.

“My dad... Ioan. They took Gio. They took him.”

“Christ, we’ve got to get you out of here. Now. You’re going to collapse or explode. Possibly both.”

She felt wind at her feet, and a sharp longing for Tenzin rose in her. Tenzin. She needed Tenzin now. Where was Tenzin?

“Come with me, priest. Bring the woman.”

Who did that voice belong to? It was cold and comforting at the same time. And... familiar. Her eyes flicked to the silhouette at the entrance of the alcove. Amnis swirled around the voice, filling the small niche.

“Ziri.” Carwyn’s voice was cautious, but she recognized the hint of optimism.

“This is a surprise. I did not see her making a move for weeks. Lorenzo has not pleased her by appearing like this.”

“What are you—”

“We must get her out of here. Her rage will not be contained for long. Come, Mariposa.”

Her eyes darted to his when he spoke her childhood name. Ziri stepped toward her, and she could finally make out his eyes. The whites shone in his dark face. Despite her shock and anger, she blinked. The vampire’s irises were a pure, deep black.

“Who are you?”

He held out a hand, and she felt the whisper of air stroke across her cheek.

“I am Ziri, and if you allow it, I will call you my friend.”

Carwyn had darted out of the alcove to go look for Emil Conti. Ziri swept Beatrice down a dark hall that led outside. Once out of the suffocating walls of the castle, the wind vampire picked her up and flew her to the car. He tucked her into the backseat and waited outside for the priest.

Beatrice blinked, as if coming out of a dream. What was she doing? They had taken her husband! She was just about to shove her way out of the car when the door opened and Carwyn slipped in, grasping her wrists the minute they raised to shove him back.

“Ah-ah. Calm yourself, Beatrice De Novo. Now is the time to listen.”

She had found her voice. “They took him. Let me go!”

“No.” He let go of one arm to pound on the divider, and the car jerked forward. Beatrice reached over and punched him in the jaw.

“Let go of me, damn you!”

He grabbed her wrists again. “Beatrice, look at me.”

She was shaking with anger.

“Beatrice, you need to understand that Gio is in no mortal danger right now.”

Her fangs descended and she tasted blood in her mouth. “You say that when he was taken by that
bitch
? By that backstabbing bitch? With Lorenzo there? With—”

“With hundreds of witnesses watching her take him. He is, right now, a political prisoner. And no one knows anything. There are factions within factions that will all try to manipulate this situation to their own advantage. She has accused him, but everyone knows that she’ll lie if it suits her purposes.”

Her face fell. “But—”

“Whatever you’re about to tell me, don’t. Right now, your husband is a bargaining piece to Livia. He is safe.” Carwyn locked his eyes with hers. “Do you understand? He is safe. No harm will come to him as her prisoner. At least not right now. She won’t make any rash moves; she’s too smart for that.”

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 a 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.