All the Stars Look Down: A Duo of Christmas Romances

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “And you managed to find our ancestor from only some letters?” Signora Rosati asked. “That is amazing.”

  “We had a lot of help,” Beatrice told her. “Signore Ferrara is a letter expert.”

  “I am,” Zeno said with a decisive nod.

  Fina bit back a smile. So modest, her vampire.

  “Well… thank you so much!” Luisa said. “Thank you for finding us. We all think it’s such a beautiful story. Are you going to write some kind of book or paper about them?”

  “Actually…” Giovanni leaned his forearms on the table. “We have ulterior motives for searching you out.”

  Luisa said, “You want to examine Rafael’s journal?”

  “Of course,” her sister said. “Perhaps take pictures for your research. I’m sure that will be fine.”

  “More than that,” Giovanni said. “We have been authorized to make you an offer for the purchase of the journal. We are not only researchers, but we work as agents for very discreet collectors around the world. Collectors who, I assure you, make the preservation of manuscripts such as Rafael’s one of their highest priorities.”

  Beatrice said, “Our client is a private individual with an interest in history relating to wine. He had heard of your ancestor’s journal only through rumors. We were hired to find it and buy it for him. I can assure you, it is for his own collection. And he will have no objection to the professor or your family keeping copies of the work. But he wants the original journal for his collection.”

  “Why?” Signore Rosati said. “It’s unusual and interesting, but why would he want to buy it?”

  “It is not my job to ask,” Beatrice said, spreading her hands across the table. “I am only hired to find the books and broker the sale.”

  “But…” Luisa looked stricken. “We cannot sell it. It is our family history. We must—”

  “How much?” Signora Rosati asked quietly.

  Fina looked around the room again. It was a beautiful old room. A beautiful old house, built from the hill stones and weathered by time. But she could also see the signs of deterioration. This family could use the money.

  Giovanni said, “Subject to our examination of the manuscript and its authentication, our client is prepared to offer you three million euros.”

  Jaws dropped around the table and an audible gasp was heard. Fina was flabbergasted. Early nineteenth-century journals, even rare ones, would be auctioned off for a fraction of that sum. Who on earth was their client? And why was he willing to pay so much?

  Signora Rosati gripped her sister’s hand, and Luisa nodded.

  “Sold.”

  EPILOGUE

  Los Angeles, California

  One month later

  The Hungarian sat down in Beatrice’s private study, holding the precious journal with silk-gloved hands. He was a thin vampire with ascetic features and cold eyes. Beatrice had no idea how old he was, but his skin was extraordinarily pale, especially against his black hair and eyes. He paged through the journal as a man reads a book, a thin smile touching his lips occasionally as he traced the line of a drawing on the vellum.

  The journal was remarkably intact, no doubt preserved by the sea chest it had been stowed in, which Beatrice had also been able to examine. The book was also very finely made, the vellum pages bound carefully and protected by a calf-skin cover. The ink was faded, but the illustrations Rafael had wrought between the notes on grape cultivation were clear.

  The Franciscan had been a gifted artist. Portraits of Antonia, drawn from memory, filled almost half the book. Often her curling hair entwined with tendrils of the vines he’d drawn on the page. There were also numerous landscapes and scenes of mission life, but the most detailed drawings were of his lover.

  “We were fortunate that it was in such excellent condition,” she said.

  “It is as if I can see him writing the words on the pages even now,” her client said softly. “Drawing her. How very strange.”

  “Were you his benefactor?”

  He angled his head slightly and she could see the lift of his brow. The Hungarian thought her impertinent. Oh well. Lots of older vampires did. Luckily, Beatrice’s pedigree and connections—as well as her own reputation—protected her from most offense.

  “His benefactor?” He looked back at the journal. “Of a sort.”

  “He returned to Europe a very wealthy man.”

  “Wealth is relative, of course. You say he married the woman.”

  “He did. They had three children and fifteen grandchildren. A very large extended family now. They still live on the estate and are far more comfortable after the sale of the journal.”

  The Hungarian closed the journal. “He would be pleased. Thank you, Ms. De Novo. Your work on this was excellent and your fee will be transferred to your account within the hour.”

  “Of course.” She rose and saw him to the entryway, the manuscript stored in the box she’d brought from Rome and carried by the human who had waited in the hall.

  “Please give my regards to your mate.” The client bowed with the old world formality so many vampires preserved. “Perhaps the next time I am in America, we may meet.”

  “Of course. May I ask a question?”

  “You may ask.” He straightened the collar of his coat after Caspar helped him with it. Unspoken was the other half of the answer.

  You can ask, but I probably won’t answer.

  “Why?”

  “Why did I want it?” He examined her with those painfully cold eyes. There was a flicker for only a second, then they were flat and emotionless again. “Sometimes, Ms. De Novo, a person can save a life without even realizing it.”

  “Did Rafael save yours?”

  He paused, and the thin smile touched his lips for another second. Then he angled his head down in another slight bow.

  “Good night, Ms. De Novo. I’ll send word if I have need of your services again.”

  Rome, Italy

  The following Christmas

  The shouts of Latin verbs and the skidding ball mingled with laughter from the courtyard as Ben and Enzo tried to keep the ball away from Zeno, who had promised to remain at human speed for the duration of the game. Christmas in Rome that year wasn’t nearly as low-key as it had been the last.

  “I haven’t had time to talk with you much,” Beatrice said, sitting at the kitchen table next to Fina, who was cutting vegetables for dinner as Angela fussed over the stove.

  “You haven’t,” the once-reserved librarian said with a smile. “What interesting book mysteries have you and Gio solved lately?”

  “Nothing quite so fun as Rafael’s journal.”

  “That was fun. I often wonder where it is now. Why your client wanted it so much. I’ve enjoyed examining the digital copy.”

  “Don’t let Zeno hear that,” Beatrice teased. “A digital copy? The horror.”

  She laughed. There was a flush in Fina’s cheeks. A quiet contentment that had added depth to her features.

  “And how are things in Perugia?” Beatrice asked. “We’re looking forward to our visit after New Year’s.”

  “Things are going splendidly, though Zeno tried to appropriate an entire bookcase in the Greek section to keep magnifying glasses and dusting powders.” She shook her head. “Incorrigible man.”

  Beatrice could easily imagine Zeno’s temper butting up against the quiet determination of his partner. Fina would likely win every time, simply because Zeno didn’t seem to be able to refuse her anything. They hadn’t married or taken any traditional vows, but as far as she knew, the vampire and his human partner hadn’t been separated for a single night since they officially met.

  Zeno had moved to Perugia and taken residence in one of the lower rooms of the villa while Fina and Enzo remained in the house on the property. He’d bullied the administrators of the Vatican library into letting him take many of his letters with him, arguing that no one else was really interested in his research and he’d bring them back eventually.<
br />
  Beatrice was guessing they agreed just to get rid of him.

  He had also taken on some of the responsibilities for the Vecchio Library, which Fina had been cautious, but eventually grateful, for him to assume. It allowed her greater freedom to explore how the library could be made more useful and which institutions were discreet and reputable enough to receive pieces on loan. Slowly, she was revealing the library’s riches to the world.

  “Any decisions yet?” Beatrice asked.

  Fina shook her head. “We have time. And Enzo is still young.”

  She knew the struggles both of them faced in their relationship. Knew that no one could make those decisions for them. She did know a quiet agreement had taken place between her husband and Zeno that if Fina did choose to become a vampire, Giovanni would act as her sire, as Zeno could not.

  Beatrice had a feeling that the love the two shared would only grow with time. And when her son was old enough, Fina would choose to give up the day for her lover. But life was unexpected, and no one could make that decision except Fina.

  “It’s good to have friends,” Beatrice said. “Especially those who know what you’re going through. Don’t hesitate to call. Or even—don’t tell Zeno—e-mail me if you have a question.”

  Fina laughed and assured Beatrice she would. Then she took a glass of Antonia’s wine out to her lover, who met her with an ardent kiss and a teasing smile. A vampire, yes. But also a man thoroughly in love.

  Giovanni brushed a kiss on her shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Tesoro.”

  “Still no presents, Gio,” she said with a sigh. “Not a single present. Ben’s going to back me up on this one.”

  He chuckled and pulled her to her feet. “Come with me.”

  “What? Why? I was helping Angela cook. Kind of.” She allowed him to lead her up the stairs as Angela’s laughter followed them.

  He led them to their suite of rooms, which had been redecorated after the nightmare of Beatrice’s first visit to Rome when Livia still ruled. Now it was filled with rich reds and blues, colors that were vivid even at night. Art hung all over the walls and—because it was their room—books were stacked everywhere. It wasn’t the neatest place, but she loved it.

  “Okay, what is it?” she asked.

  “Come here.” Giovanni put his hands over her eyes and guided her across the room. “I did get you a present, though it’s also a present for me. And, being very unoriginal, I got the same present for Zeno and Fina.”

  “Wow, so I was thinking lingerie, but now I’m really hoping that’s not what it is, because that would be weird.”

  “Agreed.” He pulled away his hands. “Merry Christmas.”

  It wasn’t lingerie. But it was perfect. A page from Rafael’s journal had been reproduced on vellum, looking so much like the original that she had to check the edges of the drawing. Floating over a mat of wine-red linen, the page was a drawing of Antonia looking over her shoulder, her dark curls tumbling down and mingling with the grape vines drawn on the hillside. She smiled, and the look the artist had captured in her eyes perfectly matched the contentment that Beatrice had seen earlier in Fina.

  “I thought they’d like a copy, as well. To remember last Christmas. He really was an extraordinary artist, wasn’t he?”

  “It’s perfect,” she whispered, turning in his arms. “It’s perfect, Gio.”

  “‘She is all that is light and beauty in my life,’” Giovanni recited Rafael’s words from his letter. “‘My soul is but a mirror of her own. My heart, her twin in devotion. Surely God cannot condemn us. Surely the world must be kind. I will come for her, though oceans separate us… For what is an ocean against eternity?’”

  “I love you.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  THE END

  DISCLAIMER

  From the desk of Elizabeth Hunter

  On behalf of all actual librarians, archivists, and other information technology professionals, I’d like to make it clear that real academic and historical research rarely, if ever, proceeds this quickly. Most of it takes months or years, but I didn’t really have that much time in a Christmas novella. I just want to make it clear that this is fiction. (Then again, vampires who control the elements don’t actually exist either, so you’ve probably guessed that I’ve taken a few liberties with the truth.)

  Merry Christmas, everyone. And may this holiday season, let nothing be misshelved.

  Read the books that launched a fictional universe:

  THE ELEMENTAL MYSTERIES

  A Hidden Fire

  This Same Earth

  The Force of Wind

  A Fall of Water

  BUY THE BOOKS

  The Elemental Mysteries, where history and the paranormal collide, and where no secret stays hidden forever. Join five hundred-year-old rare book dealer, Giovanni Vecchio, and librarian, Beatrice De Novo, as they travel the world in search of the mystery that brought them together, the same mystery that could tear everything they love apart.

  "Elemental Mysteries turned into one of the best paranormal series I've read this year. It's sharp, elegant, clever, evenly paced without dragging its feet and at the same time emotionally intense." —NOCTURNAL BOOK REVIEWS

  "An enticing and addictive epic." —Douglas C. Meeks, WICKED SCRIBES

  "A tantalyzing paranormal romance, full of mystery and intrigue. One of the best books I've read in a long time. Sign me up for book two!”—Nichole Chase, NYT bestselling author of The Dark Betrayal Trilogy

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  Looking for any excuse to delay in doing the laundry, GRACE DRAVEN turned to the much more entertaining task of telling stories about fantasy worlds, magic, antiheroes, and the women who love them. She currently lives in Texas with her husband, kids, and a big doofus dog. Laundry has now been assigned to the kids.

  More about Grace and her books can be found here:

  http://GraceDraven.com

  ELIZABETH HUNTER is a contemporary fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance writer. She is a graduate of the University of Houston Honors College and a former English teacher. She once substitute taught a kindergarten class, but decided that middle school was far less frightening. Thankfully, people now pay her to write books and eighth-graders everywhere rejoice.

  She currently lives in Central California with her son, two dogs, many plants, and a sadly dwindling fish tank. She is the author of the Elemental Mysteries and Elemental World series, the Cambio Springs series, the Irin Chronicles, and other works of fiction.

  http://ElizabethHunterWrites.com

  ALSO BY GRACE DRAVEN

  Master of Crows

  Entreat Me

  The Lightning God’s Wife

  Radiance

  ALSO BY ELIZABETH HUNTER

  The Elemental Mysteries Series

  A Hidden Fire

  This Same Earth

  The Force of Wind

  A Fall of Water

  Lost Letters and Christmas Lights

  (novella, All the Stars Look Down)

  The Elemental World Series

  Building From Ashes

  Waterlocked (novella)

  Blood and Sand

  The Bronze Blade (novella)

  Shadows and Gold:

  An Elemental Legacy novella

  (December 2014)

  The Cambio Springs Series

  Long Ride Home (short story)

  Shifting Dreams

  Five Mornings (short story)

  Desert Bound (October 2014)

  The Irin Chronicles

  The Scribe

  The Singer

  The Secret (Winter 2015)

  Contemporary Romance

  The Genius and the Muse

  ALL THE STARS LOOK DOWN

  Sunday’s Child

  Copyright © 2014

  Grace Draven

  Lost Letters and Christmas Lights

  Copyright © 2014

  Elizabeth Hunter

  All rights reserved. N
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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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