Her life fell into a strange rhythm. Servants all seemed to look the same. Xenos hovered over her every move. Lorenzo would come visit her in the evenings, always with thinly veiled threats about her father hidden under his playful, angelic expression. She dreaded his visits most of all, but there was no way to avoid them.
The days and weeks dragged on.
She was sitting in her room one afternoon after her trip to the library, when an unexpected tap on the interior door startled her.
“Hello?” she called through the locked door.
“Miss De Novo?” a lightly accented female voice called out. It was daytime, so Beatrice knew it wasn’t a vampire. She looked to Xenos, but he only shrugged and continued to watch the empty path by her room.
The door rattled open and she saw two small women, one of them smiling and the other looking somber and silent. The smiling one spoke some English.
“We are here for Miss De Novo.”
“I’m Miss De Novo.”
“The master wishes that we tend to you, miss.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “What?”
The smiling woman, who was quite young, lifted a hand to her hair.
“Your beauty. Your hair and face.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling somewhat embarrassed. There were no mirrors in the mansion, and she’d forgotten that her hair must have had two inch roots showing at the base. She’d finally been given a wax kit for her legs—razors were not allowed—but her hair was probably a horrible mess. She put a hand up, feeling the limp lengths that hung around her face.
For some reason, this—more than the constant observation, more than the nightly horror of tossed bodies, more than the chill-inducing innuendo from Lorenzo—this small realization about her hair finally caused Beatrice to break down in loud sobs.
“Miss! We just make your hair pretty!” the woman said in a panic. Xenos frowned at her, but made no move toward the three women standing at the door.
“No,” she sniffed, “it’s fine. Come in. My hair’s probably horrible.”
“The master picked a color, so you sit down and we fix it.”
“What?” Her head shot up. He may have dictated her every move in the mansion, but she was going to throw a fit if Lorenzo tried to make her blond.
Luckily, the woman held up a box of color that looked very close to her natural brown. Deciding it was better than walking around with roots—even if she couldn’t see them—she sat down and let the two women get to work.
As they chattered in Greek, Beatrice couldn’t help but think about the last time she’d had her hair cut and colored. Her grandmother had been with her and they’d gone to the salon where Marta’s son worked. She had sipped a glass of wine and laughed at the jokes swirling around her and the comforting accents of home.
Tears began to pour down her face as she thought about the frightening new world she had been pulled into. She sniffed, biting back sobs, while the women silently colored and cut her hair. For the first time since she had arrived, Beatrice felt broken.
Eventually, the ever-present echo of the waves lulled her to sleep. When she woke, her hair felt soft and shiny at the tips, and the moon shone on a passive sea.
Unfortunately, she also had an unwelcome blond visitor.
He smirked. “You look lovely. That color suits you much better than the black.”
She stared out at the ocean. “Why do you care if I’m ugly? I’m your prisoner here.”
“I prefer to think of you as my guest.”
“You can think that all you want, blondie, but I’m still your prisoner.”
“‘Blondie?’” he laughed. “I so enjoy you, Beatrice. Our chats are always amusing. But why are you so hostile, my dear? Did you not want your hair done? Would you rather walk around looking unattractive?”
She refused to look at him, staring as the glowing reflection of the silver moon was broken by the waves that rippled beneath her.
“I was supposed to start grad school in September,” she murmured. “I was going to be a librarian.”
She heard him snort. “Why?”
She shrugged and wiped at the silent tears that slipped down her cheeks. “I liked it. I love books and helping people. It wasn’t a big dream, but it was mine.”
“That’s your problem. Small dreams. Didn’t anyone ever tell you to dream big? I figured that one out myself. I have dreams, too. But they’re not small in the least. They’re positively…world changing.” She finally looked at him. He was looking at the water with a cold light sparking in his eyes. “And they will happen once I have your father back.”
She found it difficult to gather any real anger toward him anymore; she had been exhausted by horror. “Maybe I would have gotten married. Gotten a cat. Maybe I would have written a book someday.”
“Or you could have been hit by a bus on the way home from work. Humans are very fragile.”
Beatrice didn’t feel like there was any use fighting. No one was coming for her. If it wasn’t for the faint hope her father might have some way of getting her out, she would have taken her chances climbing down the cliffs to be bashed on the rocks. In the end, she knew the chances of either of them escaping from Lorenzo were small; in all likelihood, she would remain under his thumb. Possibly for eternity.
“I heard a rumor that Giovanni was in Rome,” Lorenzo said suddenly. “Talking with all his little allies.” A demented giggle left Lorenzo’s throat, and she tried to smother the faint hope that fluttered in her chest. “Do you think he’ll try to come save you, Beatrice? Do you think he could? Do you even want him to anymore?”
Yes. Even if Giovanni only came for the books Lorenzo had stolen from him, maybe she could persuade him to take her, too. Surely not all of his humanity was a sham. Surely Caspar wouldn’t—
“He tries to make himself so disgustingly good,” Lorenzo mused. “So few people know the real vampire.”
“Oh really?”
“Did he ever tell you why he made me? So unlike him to make a child. I’m his only son, you know. He doesn’t care to ‘form attachments.’ That’s what he told me when he sent me away,” Lorenzo said. Though he tried to sound nonchalant, she still detected the faint edge of bitterness in his voice.
“Really?” Beatrice was having a hard time feeling sympathy for the bloodthirsty immortal next to her. “Poor you.”
“Aren’t you curious why?” he said with a glint in his eye.
“Not really.”
“That’s okay, I’ll tell you anyway.”
“Knock yourself out,” she said, closing her eyes and trying to get lost in the sound of the surf.
“It was payment of a sort. Payment for killing someone.”
“Yeah, right.”
He grinned. “He comes across as so noble, doesn’t he?”
Beatrice sat in silence, the rhythmic sounds of the waves enveloping her.
“But our Giovanni isn’t nearly as virtuous as he’d like everyone to think. He wasn’t always a mild-mannered book dealer. He’s really quite vicious. And self-centered. Did he tell you he used to be a mercenary?”
She snorted in disbelief as Lorenzo continued. “Yes, he made a lot of money doing that. He was one of the best in the world. He killed many humans.”
“Right.”
“Ask him yourself, the next time you see him.”
She finally sneered. “Because that’s so likely, isn’t it?”
He grinned, pleased to have finally sparked a reaction in her.
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”
She sank back in her chair, determined not to react to him again. He left shortly afterward, his interest in her dying along with her temper. He seemed disappointed by her defeated demeanor, but Beatrice had lost the will to spar with him.
The next day, she didn’t leave her room.
She didn’t leave it the day after or the day after that. And as the days stretched into weeks, she slowly shrank further and further into her protective shell
.
Chapter Twenty-two
South Aegean Sea
July 2004
The three vampires rode the wind, the smallest propelling them forward as they swung lower toward the unnamed island in the South Aegean Sea. Tenzin hovered for a moment, her sharp eyes darting over the layout of the fortified mansion cut into the grey cliffs, scanning the patrolling guards and visible access points.
She looked to the red-haired man clutching her left hand. He nodded; then, concentrating his energy on a small, rocky outcropping that peeked from the water, slowly pulled the rocks up from the floor of the ocean, creating a small platform where they came to rest.
All three were barefoot, and when Carwyn’s feet touched the rock, it seemed to pulse and swell under him, growing taller and elevating them just under edge of the cliff. Giovanni cocked his head, listening to the sounds of revelry above. As he listened, a thin human body was tossed over the edge of the cliff, landing directly at their feet.
Giovanni stared into the empty gaze of the discarded girl, narrowing his eyes and clenching his jaw, but letting the anger swirl around him until his bare torso and arms glowed with blue fire. His thick hair was cropped and his eyes were cold; he stood at attention, nothing less than the ideal warrior his sire had molded when he turned him five hundred years before.
The wind whipped around them, but Tenzin had wrapped them in a protective cocoon, blocking any trace of their scent from the guards above.
“Carwyn, do you remember?”
He nodded, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “I’ll find her. And judging from the feel of these rocks, I should be able to tunnel under them until we reach the beach on the north side of the island.”
“Get her away from here and out of the fire,” Giovanni said in a low voice as his skin swirled with contained blue flames. “She’s my first concern.”
“I’ll protect the girl. You two take care of the rest.”
Giovanni nodded, and Tenzin grasped Carwyn’s hand and took to the air, leaving the fire vampire glowing like a blue torch on the rocky outcropping.
He took deep breaths, crouching down and focusing his energy outward and away from his body. He meditated on the flames, feeling the powerful hum as they coursed over him. Every flare off his skin made him stronger, and he closed his eyes as he balanced on the heady edge of control.
“Father, will there always be war?”
“What did Plato say?”
“He said, ‘It is only the dead who have seen the end of war.’”
“And if there is to be war, what is our role?”
“Victory.”
“And nothing less.”
He looked up when Tenzin landed next to him, her soft clothes fluttering in the wind. She held out her hand and he pulled back the flames to clasp her palm in his.
“Carwyn said he could smell her close to where we landed. Give him a few minutes and he’ll send a signal.”
Giovanni nodded and took a deep breath as he knelt to wait.
Carwyn scuttled along the edge of the cliffs, the ancient rocks of the Aegean coast reaching out to meet his bare hands and feet as he climbed along the face of the cliff. He could see the guards patrolling the trail that connected the rooms of Lorenzo’s compound, but he was searching for the chamber where the girl’s scent was strongest. He’d caught a hint of her as he landed, and he followed her trail farther to the end of the cliff where it was strongest around one room.
Reaching out with his senses, he could hear the faint sound of a human heartbeat and a murmur as if someone was talking in their sleep. He crawled nearer to one closed door.
“Dad…no. Don’t want…no, Gio…”
She was inside the room, and she was having a nightmare. Waiting for the turn of the guard, Carwyn leapt onto the trail and rushed the door. He punched through the metal with ease, his two fists spreading and peeling back the steel door that held her.
Beatrice woke with a gasp, bolting up in bed. “No!”
Carwyn held out a calming hand. “There now, darling girl. Just me. Just old Carwyn.”
Her pale face crumbled. “Am I dreaming?”
He shook his head, but held a finger to his lips when he heard the rush of guards coming back down the trail, drawn to the sound of wrenched metal from the door. With a wicked grin, Carwyn decided he would be more than happy to take care of a few of Lorenzo’s minions before he got Beatrice to safety.
“Get your things.” He winked. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave the room.”
She nodded and he saw her start to climb out of bed. She was reaching for the dresser when he left the room and ran directly into two guards.
“Hello, dead men.” He smirked before he grabbed the first, ripping into his neck with thick fangs and whipping his head around to silence him. At the same time, he grabbed the other with lightening quick reflexes, crushing his throat so he couldn’t make a sound. He spat out chunks of the first vampire’s windpipe before he threw the second the ground and stepped on his throat. With a quick turn of his powerful hands, he tore off the head of the first guard and tossed the remains over the cliff, into the ocean below.
Picking up the second guard, he wasted no time, twisting his head off like a screw-cap and tossing him into the ocean to join his partner. He paused for a moment to listen for any others approaching, but heard nothing but the howl of the wind. He was dripping blood from his mouth and chin, so he tore off his shirt and wiped his face, so he didn’t alarm Beatrice.
“‘The wicked shall see me and grieve,’” he murmured as he wiped the gore from his body. He glanced at the churning ocean. “‘They shall gnash with their teeth and melt away.’”
When he returned to the room, Beatrice was dressed in strange white clothes, and her hair was pulled back from her face. She was thin, almost inhumanly pale, and her hair was different. She ran to throw her arms around him, and he felt her tears hot on his chest.
“I hoped,” he heard her whisper. “I didn’t know, but I hoped you’d find me.”
He pulled back and looked into her face, framing her cheeks with his hands and kissing her forehead. “He moved heaven and earth to find you, darling girl.”
He saw her eyes shutter at the mention of his friend, and he frowned.
“We have to go now. They’re waiting for my signal.”
“How—”
He turned and crouched in front of her. “Stories will have to wait. Climb on my back and hold on tight. I’ll need my hands to get out of here, so I can’t carry you. You have to make sure you hold on.”
“Okay.”
“No matter what happens.” He looked over his shoulder. “Keep your head down and hold on to me until I let you down or Gio takes you off, do you understand?”
“Yes!” She glanced at the door. “Please, can we go now?”
He grinned when he felt her climb on his back and grip his neck. Her legs swung around his waist like a child.
Patting her leg, he said, “Ready to go?”
“I’ve been ready for weeks.”
He strode from the room with Beatrice clutching his back. Walking over to a column of stones the size of an old Greek pillar, he gave a mighty shove and pushed the pillar into the ocean. There was a brief pause before he saw Giovanni’s blue flames flare higher as he and Tenzin took to the sky.
“Remember.” Carwyn grinned. “Hold on tight.”
He felt her gasp when the ground beneath his feet opened up and swallowed them.
Giovanni watched as the grey rock tumbled into the surf. He could hear the shouts of the vampires above as they rushed to investigate the disturbance. He met Tenzin’s steady eyes.
“My boy, is there anyone we need alive?”
Giovanni glanced at the dead girl who lay at their feet.
“No.”
He grasped her hand and she leapt, pulling him with her as she took flight.
They landed on the edge of the cliff and Tenzin raised her arms, sending a great rush of wind
into the open salons where Lorenzo held court. The vampires inside were stunned into momentary submission and Giovanni and Tenzin separated to begin their assault.
Lorenzo’s guards spotted them, and no less than fifteen ran toward them, but as each approached, Tenzin reached out a small hand, capturing them in a swirling vortex of air as she lifted them into the sky. With a flick of her small hands, she grabbed half of them, flinging them toward Giovanni, who paused to toss roiling flames into each small whirlwind.
The captured vampires screamed and twisted as they burned in midair, lighting up the dark sky until their charred bodies turned to ash, and they drifted into the sea.
Giovanni took out the rest with a wall of fire he forced into a corner of the room. The guards tried to run, but were cornered by the flames. Their inhuman screams tore through the night air, as some of Lorenzo’s guard ran toward them, and others fled into the rocks.
Tenzin and Giovanni worked together in brutal concert, capturing and annihilating each vampire that came at them until most ran in the other direction or fled to the churning water.
But as they leapt, Giovanni noticed the sea began to grow, pulled by an unseen force as the waves crashing at the base of the cliffs rose until they spilled over and flooded the luxurious rooms. The humans in attendance, who had been cowering away from the assault of fire and wind, started screaming and rushing toward the interior doors.
From the corner, Giovanni caught a flash of blond hair and Lorenzo’s grin as the water vampire manipulated the ocean toward them.
“I see him,” he yelled to Tenzin.
“Go!”
A stinging rain began to beat upon his back, dousing the fire before he could fling it at his son, and he saw a large wave surge over the edge of the cliff where it grabbed Tenzin before she could take to the air. She disappeared from view, and he stalked toward the corner where he had seen his child.
A Hidden Fire Page 28