Prophecy: Child of Light (24 page)

The others were just happy pretending it was all make believe.

She could understand why. It would be a frightening world for them if they all realised that they were actually lower down the food chain than they wanted to be. They believed themselves top of it, when in reality they were food for most demons, including herself.

There were demons that did worse things to humans than vampires did. At least some vampires spared the occasional human by turning them into another vampire. No other demon did that. They were too busy eating their victim’s eyeballs, hearts or brains to want to give them a chance at life after death. All a vampire needed from a human was the essence of life they held in their veins.

She watched a young girl skip across the bridge, her face bright with laughter as golden hair flowed around her shoulders.

She wouldn’t be smiling if she knew the killers that lurked just feet from her. She’d be screaming.

Her teeth itched and her eyes flickered briefly into their green state before she got control of herself. No, she could never kill something so innocent, not even if she was starving. She turned away from the people and looked at Valentine. Would he? He’d admitted that he hated the taste of bagged blood. Would he rather eat a child if he were starving?

She bit her tongue, not wanting to broach that question because she already knew what the answer would be. She could live with it if she didn’t hear him say it. So long as he was with her, she wouldn’t let him kill an innocent child.

“Is something the matter?” he said without looking at her.

“No... nothing.” She drew her eyes away from him.

“I can feel something’s wrong.”

She smiled. He must have grown used to her presence if he could sense the barest bones of her feelings. She could only do that with Serenity, the one vampire she’d spent a lot of time with. It was as though her senses had become attuned to her maid’s feelings. Apparently, it happened to many vampires. She’d been told that claiming and mating between vampires had the same effect, only it was so strong that you could feel your mate’s emotions as though they were your own and you were so attuned to each other that you shared telepathic communication. The strength of the bond determined the distance the empathic and telepathic powers worked over.

A thought rose at the back of her mind but she pushed it away. It wouldn’t do to be thinking about things like that. A bond between her and Valentine was forbidden. She didn’t even like him in that way. Did she?

She realised he was still staring at her, giving her that concerned look that seemed to melt her reserve towards him a little more each time. Her eyes met his and something stirred deep inside of her, forcing her to recognise that she did like him after all and it was in a way that would lead to a claiming if her feelings grew stronger. She told herself that it didn’t matter how she felt. There was a war on the horizon and it was no time for love, not when the fate of millions would rest in her hands. She couldn’t let herself get caught up, and she couldn’t let Valentine know how she felt.

“I just feel... funny still. I can’t shift the images of those people,” she lied without flinching. She had shifted the horrifying pictures from her mind a short time after they’d stopped on the bridge.

“It will pass.” The corners of his mouth moved into a small smile of reassurance.

He pushed himself up off the bridge and looked down the other side of it. She realised that he wanted to move and started walking. She knew they had spent too long in one spot. The werewolves could be looking for them so it was best they kept moving. Besides, she wanted to see the rest of the city.

Her eyes roamed lazily over the goods in the windows they passed, heading along a narrow corridor of buildings towards St. Mark’s Square. She raised her eyes up to the top of the campanile as they walked out into the piazza. It was so tall, capped with its pyramid roof that marked a contrast against the square walls. Dropping her gaze, she looked at the elaborately decorated façade of the basilica. She could see the domes and the horses above the entrance arches as they approached it. It was beautiful. She’d never seen a building so richly decorated and ornate.

“It is even more beautiful on the inside,” Valentine said and she looked at him. He was standing beside her, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes on the building in front of them.

She tried to resist the temptation to ask him what it looked like and then caved. “How pretty?”

“The inside of the domes are decorated with millions of gold mosaic tiles, pure gold.” He leaned his head towards her and she remembered the time he’d told her of sunsets. Everything he said seemed so easy to imagine. “They surround each mosaic of saints and other heroes of Christendom. There are angels, and demons, all looking down on you from a sea of gold. Every wall is covered with it, right down to the floor.”

“It sounds beautiful,” she said, looking at the doors. They were closed and the sign said it wasn’t open after dark. “How did you see it?”

“I just had to look.” He smiled and she got the feeling she was being teased. It was strange to be teased by him. He was evidently enjoying how hungry she was for information about the things he’d seen in his life.

He turned to walk away but she caught his arm. “Tell me.”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “I heard about it from a werewolf. They can move about during the day so they can see the things we cannot. I had to see it, so I broke into the building one night, lit every candle I could find and drank my fill of the beauty it contained.”

“I’d ask if we can do that... but you’ll say no, won’t you?”

He nodded and went to walk away but paused and turned to face her instead. “Some day I shall take you in to see it.”

She didn’t know what to say as she watched him walking towards the two columns near the canal. He’d made her a promise of sorts. He’d said he would take her to see the beautiful mosaics inside the cathedral and she knew he wasn’t talking about doing it before they had fulfilled the prophecy. It was a masked declaration of intent to remain in contact with her if they made it through this.

She tried to make sense of him, then realised that he had stopped walking and was waiting for her. The people in the square kept walking across the path between them, but she didn’t notice them. She just stared at him, looking into his eyes as he stood patiently waiting. Everything else became a distant blur.

The spell broke when she placed one foot out in front of her and started towards him. He turned away from her again, walking slowly towards the canal, letting her catch up with him. Her eyes were drawn to the Victorian lights that lined this section of the square. They glowed warmly, adding to the romance of the piazza.

She looked at the couples as they walked past them. She’d seen movies about love and had read books, but she’d never been drawn to anyone like the heroines in them had. Arkalus wanted her as his, but the idea of it repulsed her. She could never love him.

Her eyes strayed to Valentine and she forced herself to look at the scene ahead of her. It was no use going down the route her thoughts were heading towards. No matter how much Valentine changed, he could never change enough to love a vampire outside of his bloodline. She wanted to tell herself that it was just his sense of duty driving his actions, but deep inside she knew that wasn’t true. Neither was her belief that he could never love her, but it was the only way of protecting her heart. If she believed that he couldn’t, then maybe she wouldn’t have these feelings either.

She stared at the lights that were dancing on the water and sighed.

Things were complicated enough without her girlish fantasies carrying her away.

“Prophecy?”

She looked up and found her eyes meeting his. She couldn’t look away when he gave her a small smile, narrowing his eyes, his head inclining to one side as he blinked slowly. Her insides trembled and she swallowed hard when he went to raise his hand and then lowered it again, as though he’d wanted to touch her and then got the better of himself.

“Are you sure that you are all right?” His expression became one of tender concern and she nodded mutely, unable to find her voice while she drank in the sight of him looking at her as though he really cared about her.

A shout brought her crashing back down to earth and she noticed it’d had the same effect on him too.

His head shot around and his brow arched at the gondolier as he shouted again in their direction. A smile curved his lips and she realised he could understand, if not speak, Italian.

When he looked at her, she smiled awkwardly, unsure of what to say or do to make things between them less uncomfortable. The moment had been shattered, but the feelings he’d stirred still lingered inside of her.

Her eyes dropped to the floor and it seemed impossible to bring them back up again. They moved everywhere, scanning over everything, but avoiding him. She bit her lip, struggling to overcome the shyness the gondolier’s shouts had made her feel. She didn’t even know what he’d said.

“What—” She cut herself off, feeling foolish that she’d even started to ask him.

“Did he say?” Valentine finished her question and she found the courage to raise her eyes back up to meet his. He looked amused. “That I am lucky in love and should never let a beauty such as you go.”

She turned her head to one side and stared blankly at the rippling water. The gondolier had thought they were in love. Her stomach swirled and she felt as though she should try to say something funny to alleviate the tension between them, but funny had never been her strong point.

“Oh,” she said, her eyes still fixed on the canal.

“Italian’s are a romantic race... he did not know any better.”

She frowned at his words. He didn’t know any better. It sounded like a flat denial of love to her. She straightened up, trying not to let how crestfallen she felt show in her eyes as she looked at him.

“Crazy Italian, thinking we’re in love. Completely ridiculous.” She forced a giggle as the feeling of elation she’d felt evaporated, leaving her cold and hollow.

“Absolutely. An Aurorea could never love a Caelestis, and vice versa.” He smiled but it faded from his face when her frown intensified and she narrowed her eyes on him.

“An Aurorea did love a Caelestis once, but then true love overcomes all boundaries.” She turned sharply and strode along the canal front towards the bridge.

“Prophecy?” Valentine called after but she continued to walk away, her head bent as she pushed her way through the crowds lining the street.

He sighed. He’d regretted his words the moment they’d left his lips. She really believed in the love that Lord Aurorea and Lady Caelestis had shared and how it had united their families. He could see no future in it, no comfort. He didn’t want to go down in history as a star-crossed lover. He didn’t want to be history at all.

When she gave no sign of stopping to wait for him, or even slowing down, he went after her, following her at a distance while she roamed the city. It wasn’t safe for her to be alone right now, no matter how much she needed the solitude. He couldn’t let her be alone. He knew that when he caught up with her, he wouldn’t be able to find the words that would make her believe that he hadn’t really meant what he’d said. He had answered without thinking but nothing he could say would heal the hurt he’d seen in her eyes brief seconds before they’d become dark with anger.

Was she in love with him? She’d barely known him a few days and there was so much bad blood between their families that it seemed impossible to him. But she was young, perhaps young enough to get caught up in the fantasy and not see the reality. No, he had seen in her eyes before that she knew the consequences of what she’d spoken of, and she knew that this was no time for falling in love.

There was never a good time to fall in love.

He knew that from bitter experience.

He couldn’t let her love him, not because he could never return those feelings, but because he would never be certain that it was true love, as she put it, on her part. She had never been in a situation so fraught with danger before and his heart kept telling him that it was the only reason she believed she had feelings for him. He was the only one with her. She was bound to feel a bond to him and want to stay close to him at all times. He was the only person she had in the world, the only one standing between her and death.

He found her staring at the wooden bridge that crossed the Grand Canal.

She was frowning but he knew it wasn’t because of what he’d said.

“Something wrong?” he said quietly not wanting to disturb her if it was going to upset her further.

She shook her head as if rousing herself from a daydream and blinked.

“Just... I think I’ve seen this before,” she said, looking at him.

“In your vision?”

She nodded, her gaze returning to the bridge. He knew what was on the other side. He knew exactly where her vision had shown her. He’d thought nothing of it until they’d found the curator butchered and then it had dawned on him. They had been destined to have to turn to the contact he knew in Venice. It still didn’t mean that Prophecy was going to like it and he got the feeling that he needed to tell her soon.

When she went to step onto the bridge, he caught her wrist. “Come this way.”

She would cross that bridge soon enough but he wanted to keep her hidden for as long as possible.

She gave him an expectant look as she walked beside him, down from the bridge and into the maze of alleyways again. He could see she wanted an apology or at least an explanation for the things he’d said back at the square, but he didn’t have the words. He couldn’t believe how difficult everything was when it came to her. She didn’t have to do anything and he was tied up in knots inside, a shadow of his former confident self. He’d dealt with the girls of Aurorea on a daily basis, had amused countesses with his idle talk and was so socially groomed to perfection that at the last Creator Day masquerade he’d attended, someone had believed him to be a prince, but whenever he tried to speak to Prophecy, he became nothing more than a youngling.