The Force of Wind (16 page)

Stephen shrugged. “Someone in Rome.”

Giovanni frowned, but continued working.

The two vampires had come to an uneasy truce in the time they had spent together in the library, and Giovanni was forced to acknowledge that Beatrice’s father cared for her deeply, even though he had left her for so many years. Stephen De Novo was as open and honest as Giovanni could expect, and he found himself looking forward to seeing the man more with each passing day.

In addition to his deep love for Beatrice, Giovanni could also see how much Stephen cared for Tenzin, though he still could not classify their relationship. Since it was Tenzin, he accepted that he probably never would. Whatever had drawn his old friend to Stephen, they seemed to care for each other, and Stephen had grown immeasurably more powerful as a result. His already keen mind had been sharpened, and the vampire seemed to have a photographic memory for detail. Giovanni wondered if he was seeing a preview of how Beatrice’s fascinating mind would develop after she had turned.

If she had to turn. He still held out some hope that the elixir might negate her need to give up her mortal life, though they still disagreed on the subject. He knew, far better than she did, the sacrifices that vampire life called for, and he would spare her if he could.

“Giovanni, have you given any more thought to why Lorenzo might want this?”

He looked up from his book. “What? The elixir?”

“Yes.”

He took a slow breath. “Money is the most obvious answer. If this was made viable and could be marketed in the health industry, he could become tremendously wealthy. And since your daughter stole the majority of his fortune, I’m sure that is attractive.”

“I still can’t believe she did that.”

Giovanni smirked. “I can.”

“And she still has it?”

He shrugged. “We don’t talk about it all that much. She’s a very canny investor, and I know she and Caspar cleaned it through mostly legitimate channels, so she’s extremely rich now. I believe they invented a wealthy uncle of some sort.” He looked up with a wry smile. “Congratulations, you have a dead brother.”

Stephen laughed. “She gets that from my father, I think—that deviousness. My father would have been an excellent con man if he hadn’t been such a good Catholic.”

“She talks about him occasionally. I know they were very close.”

A wistful smile crossed Stephen’s face. “I deeply regret not being there at the end of his life. I hate that Mom and B had to deal with that alone.”

Giovanni paused, thinking about all the friends he had lost through the centuries. “That is the way of the world, De Novo. People die. Their loved ones continue on.”

“But my daughter won’t die, will she?”

He looked up, meeting Stephen’s brown eyes. They hadn’t changed when he was sired. They looked exactly like Beatrice’s.

“No, she won’t.”

“Would you stay with her? If she had wanted to remain human?”

His heart gave a quick beat. “I would have stayed with her as long as she would have allowed me.”

Giovanni saw Stephen nod. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

They continued working together and Giovanni could hear Beatrice arguing with Baojia down the hall in the practice room. She stormed outside, but he also heard Baojia follow her. He forced himself to remain in his seat, knowing she was well-protected on the palace grounds, even if Lorenzo was lurking. They had argued more than once about what she perceived as his “hovering.”

“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 and 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.”