The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (23 page)

“More?
 
When?
 
When did you hear this?
 
Are they from the same donor?
 
When are they coming?
 
Have they already been authenticated?”

“Holy unanswered questions, Batman!
 
Back off, okay?”
 
Beatrice huffed a little and saw Carwyn smother another smile.
 
“Dr. Christiansen mentioned that there
might
be more letters to me and Char, but as far as I know it’s just a rumor.
 
Nothing official.”
 

“Oh, there’ll be more,” Carwyn muttered.
 

Giovanni shot him a glance.
 
“Shut up.”
 

“Hey, don’t tell him to shut up, Gio.
 
At least he doesn’t treat me like an idiot who doesn’t understand anything.”
 

He frowned.
 
“I don’t—I mean…I don’t think you’re an idiot in any way, Beatrice.”
 
She thought he almost looked offended.
 

“Yeah?
 
Well, it sure feels that way sometimes.”
 
He was looking at her with that blank expression he wore when he didn’t want to tell her something.
 
It made her want to throw something at him.
 

“Listen,” she said.
 
“I’m not an idiot.
 
I know you guys know
who
the letters are from and I suspect you know why he’s sending them.”
 
She swallowed hard and expressed the fear she’d had last night.
 
“I’m also guessing that this has something to do with my father, because otherwise all this just seems
way
too coincidental.
 
And I don’t really believe in coincidences.”
 

Carwyn was smiling at her with a proud gleam in his eye.
 
“Clever girl, B.
 
Such a clever girl.”
 

“Carwyn,” Giovanni said sharply.
 
“Don’t—”

“She figured out a good portion on her own without all the background we have.
 
You may as well tell her the rest.”
 
Then Carwyn spit out something in Latin that Beatrice couldn’t understand, but it made Giovanni seem to growl.
 
He looked at Carwyn with a glare that almost reminded her of the mood that had overtaken him the previous night.
 

“What’s going on?” she asked tentatively.
 

Carwyn shook his head and Giovanni seemed to gather himself again.
 

“Carwyn and I have a disagreement on some things, Beatrice.
 
But he is correct.
 
There’s a large part of this that does relate to your father, and we should inform you of that.”
 

“These letters,” Giovanni walked over to the table and sat in front of the two yellowed pieces of parchment before he continued quietly.
 
“These are my letters.
 
And by that, I mean they are part of a collection I had at one time.
 
It was taken from me and I’ve been searching for it.”
 

He looked at Beatrice, and she again had the feeling of seeing each long year of his existence stretch out in the depth of his gaze.
 

“I’ve been searching for almost four hundred years.
 
I was told it had been destroyed.
 
Many years later, I discovered parts of it had been saved, but scattered.
 
Now, however,” he leaned back and crossed his arms as he gazed at the two letters, “I think it is intact.
 
And I know who took it, who the donor is.”
 

He turned to look at her.
 
“I’m not going to tell you how I know, so don’t ask.
 
He’s dangerous, that’s all you need to know and if you ever see another immortal that I don’t introduce you to, I want you to tell me or Carwyn immediately.”
 

“Bossy,” she muttered.
 

“Mortal,” he threw back, and Carwyn laughed.
 
“I’m not joking about this, Beatrice.
 
Our world isn’t ruled by laws, or even convention.
 
The strongest, smartest, and wealthiest have the most power.
 
And power is the only law.
 
This vampire has brains, strength, and wealth in abundance.
 
I manage to live the way I do because I stay off the radar—”

“That, and he likes his enemies toasted
extra
crispy!” Carwyn spouted.
 

“—but this one,” he glared at the priest, “has sought me out.
 
I don’t know for certain why now, but,” he paused, letting his eyes rake over her, “I have my suspicions.”

He fell silent and continued examining the documents, taking special note of the left side of the parchment where it appeared a cut had been carefully made.
 
Beatrice watched him, going over all the cryptic pieces of information she had gleaned in the weeks since she had learned the truth about Giovanni and her father.
 

“Is it because of me?
 
Because we met?
 
What does this have to do with my father?”

Giovanni halted his perusal to stare at her, and the flicker she saw for a brief moment spurred her on.
 

“I mean…you’ve been looking for these books.
 
My dad was looking for something in Italy.”
 
Suddenly, all the pieces fell together in her mind.
 
“It was
this
, wasn’t it?
 
What my dad was looking for?
 
It was
your
books.
 
Your letters.
 
Or something related to it, right?
 
That’s why you agreed to help me find my father.”
 
She stepped closer to him, challenging the powerful immortal who watched her silently.
 
“I’m right, aren’t I?”

She saw Carwyn and Giovanni exchange loaded looks.
 

“Told you,” Carwyn muttered.
 

Giovanni said something to him in Latin that sounded like a curse, but then he turned back to Beatrice.
 
She could see the war in his eyes, but he finally gave a slight nod.
 
“Yes, you’re partially correct.”
 

She was speechless for a moment, amazed he had actually told her anything.
 
“So…okay, this guy that stole your books or letters or whatever he has—what does he want now?”

She saw Carwyn and Giovanni exchange another glance.

“We think he might be looking for your father,” Carwyn said quietly.
 
“We’re not sure why, but that’s probably why he sent the letters here.”

“Okay, so my dad knows something…all right.
 
And this guy’s dangerous, right?
 
Does he make fire like Gio?”

Carwyn said, “No, he—”

“You don’t need to know—”

She glared at Giovanni.
 
“I want to know who he is!”

“How very unfortunate for you.”
 
He continued to examine the letters, looking over the second one and handling it as if it was made of finely spun glass.

“You arrogant ass—”

“Lorenzo,” he said.
 
“He goes by Lorenzo now.”
 

Beatrice’s mouth fell open, “He’s not—”

“No,” Carwyn said.
 
“No, not the one you’re thinking of.”
 

Giovanni brought the letters up to his face to finally examine them more closely.
 
“He likes to give people the impression that he’s one of the Medici’s bastards,” he murmured as he searched the old parchment.
 
“He’s not, but some think he is, and it adds to the mystique, I suppose.
 
He likes notoriety.”
 
He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, and Beatrice could see them dart behind his closed lids as if he was searching his memory for some piece that had escaped.
 

“You see, B,” Carwyn spoke in an even tone, “some in our world choose to seek power.
 
Power over land, humans, riches.
 
And he wants something from Giovanni, otherwise, he wouldn’t be doing this.
 
There is something he thinks he can gain.”
 

“Or someone,” Giovanni mused quietly, and the already quiet room fell completely silent.
 

“Someone?” Beatrice finally asked, her eyes nervous and looking toward the door as if a threat could walk through at any time.
 
“Not—not me, right?”

Neither of them spoke, only looked at her with those infuriatingly blank expressions.
 
Even Carwyn was wearing one, and it made her want to scream.
 

“Not
me
!
 
I don’t know anything.
 
I wouldn’t know anything about anything if Giovanni hadn’t clued me in.
 
I mean—” she suddenly turned to Giovanni.
 
“Why did you tell me this shit?” she practically yelled, her fear palpable.
 

“You asked, and you figured most of it out on your own,” Carwyn said softly.
 
“Could we have kept it from you?
 
Even if we tried?
 
Would you rather have us make you forget?
 
It wouldn’t matter now.”
 

Beatrice watched Giovanni stand and walk toward her; it was almost as if each step in her direction forced her farther and farther away from the safe, unremarkable life she had known.
 
She had the simultaneous urge to run away from the approaching menace and run toward him and hold on for dear life.
 
The problem, she realized, was that she had no idea whether he would catch her either way.
 

“I don’t know anything,” she said hoarsely, “He can’t want me.
 
I don’t—why does he want me?”

For a fleeting moment, she saw pity touch his eyes.
 
“Because your father does.”

Chapter Eleven

Houston, Texas

January 2004

He looked over the translation of the letter, reading words his eyes hadn’t touched for five hundred years.
 
Even years later, Poliziano’s warm humor shone through the pages.
 
He frowned when he found the paragraph he had been looking for.

These texts you speak of promise much hermetic knowledge, if they are what you believe them to be.
 
In the celebration of our classical fathers, we too often neglect the older ideas of the East.
 
I am glad that such rare treasures have found their way to your discerning hands, and I have no doubt you will find much wisdom from their examination.
 

“Yes!”

Giovanni’s head shot up when he heard her.
 
Beatrice’s triumphant shout echoed across his home library and he watched as she jumped from her desk and began to do some sort of victory dance across the room.
 

“Anything you want to tell me?” he asked dryly.
 

“Only that I am,” she said with a huge smile, “the most awesome and amazing assistant in the entire world.”
 
She continued to dance, wiggling in no particular rhythm toward the center of the room as he looked on in amusement.
 
He tried to keep a straight face but was soon chuckling and shaking his head.
 

“Not that I’m doubting your…awesomeness, but is there a particular reason it should be celebrated at the moment?” he asked with a reluctant smile.
 

She continued to dance, and he had an increasingly difficult time not staring at her lithe form as it moved closer to him.
 
His eyes were drawn to her swaying hips and graceful waist, and he felt his blood begin to stir.
 
She danced and hummed a wordless tune, a smile lighting her face and her dark eyes reflecting the gold lamp light as she leaned down toward him at the table.
 

“Guess who found the Lincoln speech?” she asked with a playful grin, her elbows leaning on the table and her hands cupping her chin.
 

He allowed a slow smile to spread across his face when he saw her delight.
 
She had found it more quickly than he thought she would.
 
In the midst of his current predicament, the successful completion of her task was a pleasant surprise.
 

“Well done, Beatrice,” he said quietly.
 

She narrowed her eyes at his decidedly muted response, but softened them after a moment and sat down across from him at the table.
 
He could almost see the energy vibrating off her.
 

“It’s such a rush!
 
Do you get this way after you find something?”

He nodded.
 
“Though my dance skills obviously need work after seeing yours.”