The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (65 page)

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Oh! Next week is Thanksgiving. That might not be the best week to go.”

He nodded. “You are the one doing the favor, so you let me know what day will work for you. I’ll make the appointment from there. And thank you again.”

She shrugged. “I’m refusing to work for you, so it’s the least I can do.”

“I really wish you’d reconsider your—”

“I’m sure you would,” she interrupted, “but I’m very happy at the Huntington.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Translating and researching for scholars with less intelligence than you? Taking orders from someone you could run circles around intellectually? It must be so stimulating,
tesoro
.”

“Don’t start, or I’ll leave.”

He exhaled and let his head fall back into the armchair. “Fine, I’ll refrain from stating the obvious.”

“Just…” she sighed. “It’s only been a month. Give me time to have you back in my life like this. Give me some time to make room for you on my terms.”

Why don’t you get rid of the excess boyfriend? That should leave exactly the right amount of room.
He thought it but bit his tongue and smiled. “Of course.”

“So what are you and Ben doing for Thanksgiving? Going back to Houston?”

“No, no, we’re going back to Texas for Christmas, but I thought we’d stay around here for a quiet meal.”

Her mouth dropped open exactly how he had imagined the granddaughter of Isadora De Novo’s would. “What? You’re going to feed the child spaghetti for Thanksgiving dinner?”

Giovanni shrugged. “Well, he’s never celebrated it properly anyway. And I thought I’d try to make that macaroni and cheese he likes. I think I’d be able to manage that. We didn’t do much last year, either.” He frowned. “Of course, I think we were still fighting about stealing from my wallet last year.”

“You’re bringing him over to my place,” she stated. “The boy’s never even had a turkey dinner? What are you thinking, Gio?”

I’m thinking I wrangled exactly the invitation to your house I’ve been looking for.
“Beatrice, you really don’t—”

“Are you kidding me? Mac and cheese? You can barely manage spaghetti from a jar. And my grandmother would die if she heard I let you feed that kid junk food on Thanksgiving. Come over to my house. Sunset’s before five now, I’ll make dinner for six-thirty. Bring some wine.”

He smothered his satisfied smile. “Thank you. I’m sure Benjamin will appreciate the decent meal. As will I.”

She shook her head and muttered under her breath. “Macaroni and cheese…”

The following Thursday, he was trying to convince Ben that a collared shirt would not inflict bodily injury.

“She wears Docs! She’d like my CBGB’s shirt way better. It’s vintage. Vintage is better than a tux to a Doc Marten girl.”

“It most certainly is not, Benjamin. And be grateful I’m not making you wear a tie.”

“Oh man, I’m not wearing a tie. No way!”

Giovanni tucked in a dark green button down shirt and fastened the buttons at his wrists. “Trust me, women always appreciate a well-dressed man.”

The boy looked at him suspiciously as he pulled on his hated dress shoes. “I don’t know. She’s not your girlfriend yet.”

“Well, there’s another lesson. Things and people of value are worth waiting for.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so.”

“Hey, Gio?”

“Yes?”

Ben’s face was free of its usual sarcasm when Giovanni looked at him. “I get why you love her so much. She’s pretty great.”

He smiled at the perceptive boy. “I have only the finest taste in people.”

Ben looked embarrassed but quickly shot back, “Dude, I don’t want to know about your blood-drinking habits.”

Giovanni snorted and looked in the mirror before he walked over to the boy and mussed his hair. “Comb this mess. It’s almost time to go.”

They drove to Beatrice’s small house, Ben carrying on a constant chatter in the old Mustang that had finally arrived from Houston, and Giovanni trying to prepare himself to curb his natural instincts so he could meet Beatrice’s boyfriend without killing or maiming him.

They were met at the door by a blond woman Giovanni assumed was Beatrice’s best friend, Desiree Riley.

“You must be Desiree.” He held out his hand politely and nudged Ben to do the same. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She smiled. “It’s Dez. You must be Gio. I can almost promise I’ve heard more about you.” She cocked her head and looked at Ben. “Or is this Gio? You’re not that tall yet, but you’ve got the dark and handsome part down.”

Ben grinned, winking at Dez and holding his arm out for her to take. She giggled and took it as they walked inside. “Well, Dez, my name’s Ben, I’m the smarter and more charming of the Vecchio men…”

Giovanni shook his head as he followed them into the small 1920s era Spanish bungalow. He crossed the small living room and paused when he saw a large man bending over Beatrice’s shoulder as she stood in front of the stove.

There were few times in his five hundred years that Giovanni had truly been grateful for the vicious training of his sire, Niccolo Andros. The fifteen years he’d spent under the vampire’s thumb had been brutal and draining, both mentally and physically.
 

But as he watched former Navy diver, Mano Akana, put his hands on Beatrice’s waist and pull her close, he knew he’d relive every one of those torturous training sessions if it allowed him to not kill the oblivious man holding onto his woman.

That level of violence would, no doubt, put most of the guests off their dinner.

He quieted the growl that wanted to escape his throat and cut his eyes toward Matt Kirby, his associate who had been living next to Beatrice on his orders for more than three years. Matt gave him a small nod and returned his attention to Dez and Ben. Ben was busy introducing himself.

“Gio!” Beatrice called, as she extricated herself from the grasp of the over-muscled behemoth who held her. She walked into the living room and gave Ben a quick hug before she walked to Giovanni.
 

She hesitated a moment but leaned forward and embraced him. He pushed his amnis toward her and felt the shiver travel down her back. Glancing past her, he noticed the boyfriend watching them intently and knew, without a doubt, that Beatrice was the only one fooling herself that they were nothing more than friends.

“Happy Thanksgiving,
tesoro
,” he said quietly before he approached Mano in the kitchen. He held out his hand and tried not to imagine how many ways he could kill the man.

“Giovanni Vecchio. You must be Mano.”

The man’s hair may have fallen to his shoulders, but the eyes that examined him revealed his military background more than any uniform.

“Nice to meet you. You’re a friend of Carwyn’s, right? And B’s old boss?”

“I’m both. And a friend as well. She’s a remarkable woman. You’re very lucky.”
To not be dead right now.

“Oh, I know I am,” Mano murmured, a look of challenge in his eyes. “And this is your nephew?”

“Benjamin, yes. Ben, come introduce yourself to Beatrice’s friend.”

Mano cut his eyes toward Giovanni and smirked. Both men nodded toward the other, as if a challenge had been accepted, before Ben came over to introduce himself and the tension was cut.

The dinner was far better than anything he could have produced, and Giovanni ate more than he usually did. He’d been buying donated blood in Los Angeles and feeding on that unless the opportunity to feed from a criminal presented itself—which it did with fair regularity. In the past five years, he’d lost his appetite for random women and the blood they could offer him, so he’d been making do. He knew he was not at full strength, and it bothered him.

Giovanni wished that he hated the boyfriend but realized under other circumstances, he would probably like the man. No matter. After observing Beatrice and Mano throughout the evening, he had no qualms about doing everything in his power to separate them.

She was trying to convince herself she was in love with him. She most likely did love the human in some fashion, but she did not look at Mano the way she had once looked at him. Nor did she react to the man with the same physical intensity she did to Giovanni.

Mano, however, was very obviously in love with Beatrice. He could hardly blame the man, but his determination to make Beatrice his own suffered no setback at the thought of the human’s impending disappointment.

“Giovanni? What are you working on right now? Are you settling in L.A. permanently?” Dez asked from across the table. He smiled at the blond woman, noticing the longing look Matt Kirby threw toward her every time she opened her mouth.
 

“I am for now,” he answered. “It’s a good place for research, and I like my house in Pasadena.”

“It’s totally awesome, and I have my own basketball court,” Ben added.
 

“You should have a party!” Dez said.

Matt chuckled. “Gio’s not really one for entertaining.” His eyes widened and he added, “At least, you don’t seem like the type to me.”

Giovanni clenched his jaw and glanced at Matt’s apologetic face before he looked toward Beatrice, who was glaring at him.

“Hey, Gio,” she asked, “can you help me with something in the kitchen?”

He excused himself from the table, glancing at Mano’s perturbed face as he left. He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.

“Matt?” she whispered.

He shrugged. “I’ve worked with him on and off for a number of years. He’s very trustworthy.”

“But he’s been watching me? This whole time?”

He rolled his eyes. “He’s not a stalker, Beatrice. He’s security, and he’s very good. He likes you, as well, if you’re curious. And I’m fairly certain he’s romantically interested in your friend.”

“This whole time?”

“I did what I needed to keep you safe. I’m not going to apologize for it.”

She crossed her arms and glanced toward the dining room. “Well, did he ‘save’ me from anything? In all these years?”

He crossed his arms and mirrored her. “As a matter of fact, no.”

“Then I think I deserve an apology.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” She was fuming. “Apparently he was unnecessary.”

Giovanni stepped close to her, towering over her as she glared at him. “An apology would imply that I am regretful or sorry in some way, and I make no apologies for doing everything in my power to protect you.”

He didn’t expect the flash of tears in her eyes. “You wanted me protected? It was that important? Then why wasn’t it you?” she hissed before she stormed toward the hall bathroom. Mano entered the kitchen a few minutes later wearing a smug look. Giovanni felt a small burst of flame rise near his hand, so he crossed his arms again and pulled his temper back.

“You managed to piss her off pretty well, Giovanni.”

“Oh,” he muttered. “That’s nothing new. I’ve been doing that for years.”

“Not for the past five, you haven’t,” Mano muttered. “That’s how long it’s been, right? That’s how long she’s been following your ghost to some old house in Chile?”

Giovanni smiled. “Did
she
tell you that?” He saw Mano deflate a bit. “No, I didn’t think so. She’s very good at keeping secrets, isn’t she?”

“She’s private.”

“Call it what you will.” Giovanni leaned back against the counter.
 

“Well, you don’t know her anymore. Not like I do.”

Giovanni laughed. “Oh really? And why do you say that?”

“Because you weren’t here, asshole. Were you at her party when she bought this house? We’d only been dating a few weeks, but I made being there a priority. How about when she got her job at the Huntington? She was
so
proud of herself. Or maybe when her grandmother had the scare with her heart a couple years ago? Miss out on that, too?”

He just stared in silence when Mano stepped closer in the small room.
 

“How about when her scum bag of a mother showed up last year and tried to get money from her? Did you know about that?” he asked. “Of course not, because you weren’t here. Know who was? Me. I was here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiled at the tall man who knew so little. “You think you know her fairly well, don’t you?”

“I do know her. And I love her.”

“I’m sure you do. But you don’t know her like I do.” Giovanni shrugged. “It’s not your fault. She hasn’t allowed you to know her that well, has she?”

“You’re so damn arrogant.”

“I am, but am I wrong?” he asked and glanced toward the dining room, noting that Ben seemed to be entertaining Matt and Dez with some amusing story. “I know a lot about you, Mano. Can you say the same about me?”

“What does that even—”

“She’s very protective of the ones she loves. So who is she protecting with her secrets? You?” Giovanni stepped closer and let his swirling green eyes bore into Mano’s. “Or is she protecting me?”