This Same Earth

by Elizabeth Hunter

  He shook his head. “Deirdre would know. They’ve shared blood for over four hundred years. She would know if he was dead.”

  Beatrice fell silent, suddenly aware she knew nothing of the intimacies of vampire relationships. Though she had spent months with Isabel and Gustavo, it wasn’t something they discussed, and she suddenly felt like an awkward school girl.

  As if sensing her discomfort, Giovanni looked down and smiled a little. “I tried to explain once…about the biting. There are different kinds of bites, Beatrice. It’s not always just to drink.”

  “Oh,” she blushed, but he just pulled her closer, refusing to let her squirm away. “Well, I know that when you bit me…I mean, it didn’t hurt. It felt…good,” she said in a small voice. It had felt more than ‘good,’ but she didn’t want to dwell on the details when she was stuck in a plane with him for the next eight hours. “I guess I always assumed that if vampires bit each other, it was just for, you know, siring someone.”

  When he spoke again, his voice was oddly formal, and it made her more comfortable to hear his “professor voice” when he was discussing something so intimate. “There are two different kinds of bonds that vampires will form with each other. Siring and, to use an old term, mating. When a vampire is sired, their blood is drained and replaced—”

  “Does it hurt?”

  He shrugged. “Not unless the sire wishes it. Andros had the odd theory, based only on his own madness, that a child sired in anger or pain would become unstable, but I’ve never seen any reason to believe that.”

  “So it didn’t hurt when you were turned?”

  Giovanni smiled and stroked her cheek. “No, tesoro. I knew what was going to happen. I can’t say I was eager to drink blood, but I didn’t want to die. Andros drained me…I don’t remember much after that. I woke up the next night as an immortal. It was…an adjustment. I had to get used to my new senses and abilities, and I felt a very strong attachment to Andros.”

  He drifted off, lost in his own thoughts, and Beatrice took a chance on his talkative mood to ask something that had bothered her for years. “You seem like you have such complicated feelings for Andros; when you talk about him, it’s almost like you love him.”

  “I did love him.”

  “But you bartered with Lorenzo to kill him.”

  “Yes,” he said, and his eyes shuttered.

  She rose onto her knees and straddled his lap on the couch, forcing him to look at her.

  “I don’t understand.”

  He began several times but paused before he could speak. Finally, he continued in a whisper, “He would have used me. He was already planning something. I don’t know exactly what. You see, he never counted on me controlling fire. Once he knew…I think the temptation to use me for his own ends was too great.”

  She stroked his face and ran her fingers through his hair. He almost seemed like a large, fierce cat as he pushed into her palm and sought comfort in her touch.

  “You had him killed so he wouldn’t use you.”

  He nodded, but his eyes were still haunted. “I loved him, but whatever he was planning I wanted no part of. And I knew…I knew he would have been able to convince me.”

  “You can’t feel guilty, Jacopo,” she said gently, using his childhood name. “He was crazy. He murdered your uncle. He held you captive for ten years.”

  Giovanni nodded. “Yes, and without him doing all that, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you. I would never have known Carwyn or Tenzin. No one would have been there to save Caspar. Benjamin would probably never have known a better life. So how can I hate him? His cruelty brought me to the people I love, Beatrice. What price can I put on that?”

  She leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, smoothing the lines he created with his frown. Beatrice pulled his face into the crook of her neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist. He held her for hours until she drifted to sleep.

  Wicklow Mountains, Ireland

  December 2009

  They arrived by car at the small lodge tucked into the Wicklow Mountains a few hours after dusk the next night. There was a grouping of low, whitewashed houses around a central open courtyard, where small children ran and laughed. A large farmhouse spread out from the rear of the courtyard and a sheep dog sat by the doorway. She could see two human women walking across the garden, speaking and gesturing with their hands, as they corralled the children into the glowing houses.

  “There are a lot of humans here,” she said quietly to Giovanni, who had grabbed their bags and began walking toward the large farmhouse.

  “Yes,” he said with a nod. “Deirdre and Ioan are a poorly concealed secret in this area. The human population asks no questions, and the area is safe from almost all crime and poverty. The humans that live here are mostly connected to their children in some way.”

  “They have a lot of kids?”

  He nodded again. “They are a large clan. Probably the largest in Ireland. And very influential. Even the water vampire that controls Dublin defers to them on most matters if they desire.”

  “So losing Ioan—”

  “Is a very, very big deal, Beatrice.”

  He did not knock but pushed open the door of the large house, only to be greeted by a familiar furry face as they walked in.

  “Bran!” she cried and immediately reached out to pet the wolfhound who was nudging her hip in a persistent manner. He was older and obviously near the end of his life, but the large dog still wore a friendly smile.

  “Och, Bran,” she heard a voice call. “Who is it now?” A stout, brown-haired woman with milky-white skin walked down the hallway. The roses in her cheeks marked her as human, and she wore a flour-dusted apron over her soft blue dress.

  “Gio,” she said with a smile. “It’s been too long.”

  “Sinéad,” he said softly, bending down to kiss her cheek. “This is—”

  “You must be B.” The woman held out her hand to shake. “Carwyn said to expect you both. Gio, your usual room is ready and, B, there’s one upstairs for you. Give me a second to clean up and I’ll show you. Such a dreadful, sad way to see old friends. Such a sorrow. The Father is on the warpath, though. If anyone can find Ioan, it’ll be him.”

  “They contacted Dublin?”

  Sinéad nodded. “Days ago. They’ve both been to the city, but the reports are unclear and they’ve not wanted to leave the valley unprotected.”

  Giovanni sighed and reached for her hand. She held it tightly and stood in silence, wishing there was something useful she could do. Sinéad was looking back and forth between them with a sad smile, but Giovanni didn’t seem to notice.

  “B, I’ll take you up to your room. Gio, make yourself at home, of course.”

  He nodded and let go of her hand so she could follow Sinéad up to the second floor. Beatrice was led to a cheerful yellow room at the top of the stairs with a full bed, a small desk, and a set of drawers where she set her duffel bag. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared out the window. The stars had come out, and the clock read close to nine o’clock. She wasn’t tired, but she felt lost in the unfamiliar room until she caught the whiff of smoke.

  She turned and saw him standing in the doorway. He looked at her with grim eyes, and she held out her hand. He crossed the room, took it, and pulled her next to him, stretching out on the small bed as he enfolded her in his arms. They lay silently, watching the stars for a few minutes before he spoke.

  “I’m glad you’re here, but I wish you hadn’t come.”

  “Not an option,” she murmured as she stroked his forearm.

  “Beatrice—”

  “If you’re so worried, train me.”

  “I’ve never studied judo.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.” He snorted and she looked over her shoulder. “What?”

  “Train you? To fight vampires?”

  She shrugged. “I know I’ll never be as strong or as fast—”

  “Or have keen senses, or
control an element.” She leaned down and bit his arm. “Ow!” He laughed. “Do it again.”

  She scowled. “Hush. I just mean, something is better than nothing. And it’ll give you something to do until Carwyn comes back.”

  “What? You want to do it now?”

  “What did you have in mind to pass the time?”

  He raised a speculative eyebrow. “Well…”

  “Yeah,” she snorted. “Right. I have a feeling the house mom wouldn’t be too keen on that idea.” She nodded toward the door where she had no doubt Sinéad’s ears were tuned toward them. “Otherwise, she’d probably have put us in the same room.”

  “True. I still—”

  He sat up so quickly she almost fell off the bed.

  “Carwyn’s here,” he said before he flew down the stairs.

  Beatrice sat up and looked out the window, where she could just see the red hair of the priest as Giovanni embraced him at the edge of the road. She saw a blur streak by them both and the front door slammed shut. In the next heartbeat, a tall warrior of a woman stood in front of her, examining her with burning, blue eyes.

  “Are you Giovanni’s woman?”

  Well, Beatrice almost said, it’s kind of complicated. She thought better of it when she saw the fierce expression on the woman’s face.

  “I’m Beatrice.”

  “Your scent is unfamiliar.”

  “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Oh.”

  Deirdre seemed to take a step back. “I am Deirdre Mac Cuille. You are welcome in this house as long as you mean no harm to my own. You’ll forgive me if I’m not a proper host to you.”

  Though she knew Ioan was Carwyn’s blood relative, Deirdre looked like his daughter in every way. She shared the flaming auburn hair of the priest and stood at an impressive height. The planes of her pale face were regal as she stared down her nose.

  Beatrice shook her head. “No, of course you wouldn’t be. I’m so sorry about your husband.”

  Deirdre cocked her head. “He is not dead. Save your condolences, girl.”

  Just then, she heard a rushing on the stairs, and Giovanni appeared next to Deirdre in the doorway. They nodded toward each other, and Deirdre departed, leaving Beatrice staring in her wake.

  “She’s kind of scary.”

  He nodded. “Yes, she is. You would be too, if…well, if it was someone you cared about,” he said quietly.

  She looked at him standing in the door, and the wave of emotion almost overwhelmed her. She stood and walked to him. “If it were you,” she whispered, knowing he could hear. “I’d be that way if it were you, Giovanni.”

  He said nothing as she slipped down the stairs.

  Carwyn was far from the cheerful vampire she remembered from his last visit in May. She sat with him in the large farm kitchen as he ate the steak Sinéad had cooked for him. He tore into the bloody meat, not waiting for anyone to join him and barely speaking to her. Various members of the family, human and vampire, milled around him, but no one spoke.

  “Carwyn,” she heard Giovanni’s voice as he walked into the kitchen. The crowd around the priest parted at his voice, and he came to sit beside his old friend. “Where’s Deirdre?”

  “She was in the garden for a bit, trying to scent him, but she couldn’t pick anything up. They must know they’re blood-bound and are keeping him away from open earth. I believe she’s feeding right now.”

  Giovanni lowered his voice. “Human? I know she doesn’t usually, but—”

  “Yes, human. One of the farmhands. She knows she needs the strength.”

  “And you?”

  Carwyn glared at Giovanni. “I’ll not change who I am because of a madman. I cast no judgment, but—”

  “For God’s sake, Carwyn—”

  “Do not take His name in vain among my people, di Spada!” the priest roared, standing up from the table and meeting Giovanni nose-to-nose as they squared off against each other.

  “Fine,” Giovanni spit out, “but I’m going to feed, as well. I’ve no interest in principle over survival.”

  Giovanni stormed out, leaving Beatrice gaping at them both as Carwyn sat down again, staring at the half-eaten meal in front of him. The humans and vampires in the kitchen dispersed and Beatrice sat silently, at a loss for what to say.

  “I’m truly an ass sometimes, aren’t I?” Carwyn finally muttered.

  “He’s worried about you. And I think he feels guilty.”

  “Why?” He began eating again. “I’m the one that agreed to help him get you back. Isn’t it my fault? Oh, wait, you’re the one we rescued, so maybe it’s your fault.” Beatrice felt tears spring to her eyes as she watched the surly vampire. “No…not your fault, after all, you were only targeted because of your father, so perhaps it’s Stephen De Novo’s fault after all.”

  “Carw—”

  “Or,” he finally looked up at her with a fierce expression in his blue eyes. “It’s the fault of the man who kidnapped my son. Yes…” He nodded and took a gulp from the mug that Sinéad set by his elbow. “I’m sticking with this being Lorenzo’s fault. Because that’s the vampire I’m going to kill if I don’t get my Ioan back.” He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, smearing it across his jaw in an ominous red streak before he continued inhaling his food.

  “What are you doing?”

  She turned to see Deirdre walking toward her in the garden as she practiced her tai chi forms in the twilight. They had been in Wicklow for a week with little to no change in the situation. Giovanni and Carwyn had gone to Dublin the night before to meet with the leader of the city, and she had stayed in Wicklow with Deirdre, who refused to venture far from her home, worried that more of her family might be targeted.

  “It’s tai chi. Martial arts. I study in L.A.”

  “It’s quite beautiful. Why is it so slow?”

  “Sometimes it’s faster. But Tenzin told me when I practice forms, I should concentrate on the flow of energy and meditation so my movements are precise. It’s relaxing that way, too.”

  “Tenzin?” Deirdre said. “How very…interesting.”

  She frowned as Deirdre sat next to her on the grass, taking a deep breath and sinking her hands into the soil of the garden that overlooked the green valley. Stands of trees lay in the creases where streams cut through, and a small herd of deer broke into a run as they scented danger at the edge of the forest. Beatrice could hear the sharp bark of the dogs and the lowing cows as the farmhands brought them in for the night.

  She continued with her forms, moving slowly and trying to let the tense waves of energy from Deirdre wash over and around her. She heard the vampire take a deep breath.

  “Why did Carwyn say you were trying to scent Ioan? Isn’t he too far away?”

  She saw Deirdre smirk at her out of the corner of her eye.

  “You don’t know much about vampire relationships, do you?”

  She blushed but continued practicing.

  “Doesn’t Gio tell you anything?”

  “We’re not—” Beatrice faltered. “It’s not like that with us.” Yet.

  “He’s in love with you. Don’t you love him? You look at him like you do.”

  She frowned. “You know, forgive me if I don’t feel like getting into the details with someone I hardly know.”

  Deirdre snorted. “Fine. Forget I asked.”

  Beatrice pushed down her irritation and focused on the slow and steady movement of her body. She could feel Deirdre still watching her.

  “Sit down and talk to me, girl. It’s not like I’ve never had this discussion with any of my daughters before. Ioan, despite being a doctor, has always been squeamish about these things. Typical male.”

  “I’m well aware of the birds and the bees, thanks very much.”

  “You asked how I could scent my husband, and I’ll tell you how. It’s either ask me or Giovanni eventually.” Beatrice turned and Deirdre cocked an eyebrow. “Well?”


  She huffed and came to sit next to her on the grass, stretching out her sore muscles.

  “Okay,” Beatrice asked, “what’s the big deal with smelling?”

  Deirdre chuckled. “You are amusing. I imagine you drive him mad in the best way. He has always taken himself too seriously.”

  Beatrice remained silent, at a loss for something to say to the vampire next to her, who looked younger but whose eyes held a kind of infinite wisdom she couldn’t wrap her mind around.

  “You know how our kind are sired, do you not?”

  “Yes.”

  “When mates…when two vampires exchange blood in small amounts over long periods of time, a different bond is formed.”

  “A sexual bond?”

  She shook her head. “Much more than sexual. You can have sex without exchanging blood, but when you do…”

  “Yeah?”

  Deirdre gazed out over the valley, still digging her hands into the earth. Her mood had shifted, and Beatrice could tell she was thinking of Ioan. “Blood exchanged in love and passion for hundreds of years. Over and over until it is so mingled…”

  Beatrice’s heart raced. “What?”

  “We are two halves of a whole,” Deirdre whispered. “Four hundred years we have been together. That’s why I know he still lives. If he was dead, my own blood would cry out. There would be no question.”

  “So, when they said you could ‘scent’ him—”

  “Our blood calls to each other if we are apart. I will be able to scent him because, if even a drop of his blood touches open earth, it will call to me.”

  Beatrice was silent, staring into the distance as the stars came out around them.

  “I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

  Deirdre turned her head sharply. “Do you want to?”

  “What?”

  “You cannot look at him the way you do and not have thought about sharing this life with him.”

  She felt the tears spring to her eyes. “It’s…too much. I can’t—”

  “You have to.”

  “Do you think so?” She remembered Giovanni had said Ioan asked Carwyn to change Deirdre when she was human. “You made the choice. Has it been worth it?”