“No, she wouldn’t.” Everything clicked at once. “But Cheng and Ernesto constantly coordinate on shipping stuff,” Ben muttered. “Which means she’s probably in Shanghai, and she probably said something to Cheng, who said something to Ernesto, who said something to Giovanni.”
Beatrice pursed her lips. “Vampire politics. Not as different from high school as you’d think, actually.”
“I’m going to open the letters, B. I’ve just been—”
“Good. Full stop. Don’t say anything else to me right now. Open them and answer them. Ignoring formal correspondence like that makes me look bad and makes you look like an irresponsible kid. Which you’re not. You may think that’s unfair, but that’s the way it is. Part of my status depends on showing respect to scary people. And you may not find Tenzin scary, but the entire rest of the world does, especially those elders. So buck up, buttercup. Answer your mail and stop avoiding your responsibilities.”
Ben knew she was right, but he didn’t have to like it. “I’ll answer the letters.”
“Today.”
“Today.” He let out an angry sigh. “You know, I didn’t ask—”
“No, no, no, no,” Beatrice said. “Don’t piss me off, Ben. This is the way things are. If you’re going to be in this world—”
“Well, maybe I don’t want that anymore!”
Beatrice was silent for a long time. “Okay,” she finally said. “Talk to me.”
Ben stood and walked toward the stairs. “Maybe I don’t want to be part of this anymore. You know, I could stay here. Stay in Rome. Find a job here working for… I don’t know. I have money I’ve earned myself now. I could take some time and… I don’t know.”
“Calm down,” Beatrice said. “Just talk to me.”
“I could go back to school.” He felt his throat getting tight. “Get a normal job. Live here with Fabi. Go to the beach and get a tan and sleep at night like a normal fucking human, you know?”
He walked into his bedroom, shut the door, and locked it. Then he sat on the bed, still holding on to the phone and his aunt’s image, six thousand miles away.
“I’m listening,” Beatrice said.
He took a hard breath. “I don’t know if I want to live like this anymore.” His voice was quiet. “I don’t know if I can.”
Beatrice waited to speak for a long time. “Is it because she’s gone? Be honest.”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I can’t keep living in this… limbo. Not knowing who or what I am. Not knowing what I am to her.” He shook his head. “I can’t. It’s not fair.” He laughed a little. “I know life isn’t fair.”
“Life isn’t, but you get to pick who you allow in yours,” Beatrice said. “She’s our friend, Ben. And our ally. Whatever happened between you two—”
“I don’t want to talk—”
“Whatever happened”—Beatrice said again—“is between the two of you. You have to do what’s right for you. Giovanni and I, we’re going to love you no matter what. Our relationship with Tenzin doesn’t depend on you. And vice versa. She’s our friend, but you’re our kid. Even though you’re not a kid anymore.” She poked at the screen. “Is that white in your beard?”
“Ha ha.” Ben rubbed the stubble that had grown out the past few days. “If I’m going grey, it’s her fault.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “She’s not an easy person to love.”
“I don’t…” He swallowed hard. “It’s not that.”
“Are you sure?”
She was feeding from him, and it was no gentle bite.
It was pleasure. It was pain. It was heaven and hell and she was drinking his blood and he wanted it. He wanted her to devour him. One hand moved from her ass to her breast and he squeezed. He swept his thumb over her erect nipple and turned his head so she could go deeper. His other hand gripped her hair, pulling her mouth from his neck. He could feel his flesh tear, but he ignored it, dragging her bloody mouth to his.
“Whatever it is,” he said. “It’s not love. I’ve seen what you and Giovanni have. It’s not that.”
“All relationships are different, Ben. Don’t compare yourself to us. That’s not fair to either of you.”
He pressed his fingers to his temple. “It doesn’t matter what I want, does it? Not really. She’s the one who ran away, and she’s the one who gets to call me back. She holds all the cards right now, and she knows it. It’s all about winning with her, and she won’t stop until she’s got me under her thumb.”
Beatrice said, “I know it feels like that, but don’t forget that you have your own reputation to carry. I know you’ve been working for Filomena. And for Emil. Don’t forget your power, but also don’t forget your responsibilities. Open the letters. Answer them and make all the right noises about apologies. Deal with whatever comes after, but don’t make yourself look like a petulant child. Understood?”
“Understood.” He looked up. “I really love you, B.”
“I really love you too.” She smiled. “You’ll make it through this.”
“I know.” He shut off his phone and tossed it on the bed.
Then he sat down at his desk, found the first letter from China, and broke the seal.
Fabi found him in the courtyard after the sun had set and his hand was sore from using his very best handwriting. Of course, the wine was helping with the sore hand.
“Hi.” She leaned against the archway leading from the street. “So you are very drunk.”
He leaned back in his chair and swapped out the vinyl on the old phonograph he’d found at a shop in Naples. “Not too drunk to change the record, and that’s what counts.”
“You were cutting back.” She walked over and lifted the record sleeve. “What got you feeling sentimental?”
It was a blue sleeve with an old jazz recording. “As Time Goes By” was echoing off the stone walls. Ben stood and grabbed Fabia around the waist. “Put the groceries down. Dance with me.”
She smiled and set her bags on the cobblestones. “Oh, Nino. What was it this time?”
“Can’t I just want to dance with…” He took a deep breath to steady himself. “…a beautiful woman? Who lives with me… but refuses to kiss me?” He ducked his head down to meet her eyes. “You used to kiss me.”
She put her hand on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist. “When we were teenagers. When we were still figuring out what went where.”
“Maybe I’m still figuring out what goes where,” he said. “You could give me lessons.”
“Oh no.” She laughed. “I have no interest in a man who is very obviously in love with someone else.”
He swallowed hard. “I’m not in love with her.”
“You don’t think so?”
“No.” He took a deep breath. “And even if I was… it’s not healthy.”
“And I’m not your cure.” She gently pushed him away. “Let me get you some water. You need to sleep.”
Ben stood in the middle of the courtyard, staring into the blue-black sky as a heartbreaking trumpet solo floated through the air. “I thought love was supposed to make you feel good.”
“Oh, Ben.” Fabia sighed. “I wish that were true, but it’s not. Elias and I are proof of that.”
Ben forgot about his own dysfunctional heart and looked at Fabia. “Elias was an idiot.”
“No, he was just normal. And I’m not.”
Fabia and Elias had made it for three years before the necessary secrets of Fabia’s life had alienated her boyfriend, who had no idea that vampires existed. Fabia had let Elias move on without any of the answers he begged for, even though she loved him desperately.
“You could have told him.” Ben walked over and put his arms around her. “I trusted him. Giovanni trusted him.”
She spoke in a quiet voice. “He wouldn’t have wanted to know.”
Ben had nothing to say to that, because that was simply the way it was sometimes. Some
people didn’t want to know. Some people wanted to live simple lives, and Ben couldn’t fault them for that.
“Would you rather not know?” he asked. “If you had the choice?”
Fabia wiped her eyes. “Sadly, I would never choose ignorance. If there’s a thing to be known, I want to know it. That’s probably why I spent so much time in school. I’m a glutton for knowledge.”
“Yeah. I get that.” He swung her around as the song changed to a quicker tune. “You know, who gets to say what’s normal and what’s not? I think we’re very normal.”
Fabia laughed through her tears. “Oh yes. So normal.”
“What? Why are you laughing?”
“Did you finally open the letters from the scary thousand-year-old vampires in China who want to hire you for something? ’Cause, you know, that’s a very normal thing to do.”
He nodded slowly. “Right. About that. What do you know about maritime archaeology?”
She frowned. “I did part of my graduate studies in Calabria mapping the wrecks in Crotone. You know that. I love diving.”
“Are you still certified?”
“Yes.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“How hard do you think it would be to find a house sitter by next week?”
7
Beijing, China
“Sir?”
Ben woke when he heard the flight attendant’s voice.
“Sir, we are approaching Beijing. Can you please bring your seat upright?”
Ben nodded wordlessly and pushed the button to shift his seat. He’d slept all the way from Abu Dhabi, settling into a business class seat next to Fabia, who’d gazed at everything with wide and wondering eyes.
She was reclined next to him, her sleep mask pushed up and her short, pixie-cut hair mussed. “That was the most comfortable flight I’ve ever taken.” She stretched up and out. “I am ruined for economy class.”
“Really?” The corner of Ben’s mouth turned up. “Want to know how much the seats cost?”
“Please no.” She took off her mask, rubbed her eyes, and yawned. “I’m just going to pretend that I’m living in a dream right now. I refuse to spend thousands of unnecessary dollars on a plane seat when that amount of money could get me a Prada handbag.”
Despite working for her uncle, Fabia didn’t travel much. And while she made a good income between the university and Giovanni, she didn’t have time to spend it. Convincing her to come to Beijing as his assistant was surprisingly easy. Especially when he told her they’d be going after a ninth-century Arab shipwreck.
The plane touched down in China, and they started to gather their things and make preparations to exit the cabin.
“You’re sure this visa is legal?” Fabia muttered. “I’ve never heard of one going through that fast. When people from the university have to travel—”
“They go through normal channels,” Ben said. “Not… other ones.” He glanced at the people around them, none of whom were paying attention and none of whom assumed Ben could speak Mandarin. Which he could.
Thanks to Tenzin.
“The visas are fine,” Ben said. “Trust me. And trust Emil. It was his liaison who arranged everything.”
“Okay.” She didn’t look reassured, but then Fabia disliked taking anything on faith. It was what made her such a good friend and an excellent backup. “If you trust them, I will.”
“It’ll be fine.” He knew they were being watched. There would be a court representative meeting them after they retrieved their luggage, but they’d be under surveillance the moment they stepped off the plane. Ben was an invited guest of the elders of Penglai Island. Nothing about this visit would be routine.
“Have you been here before?” Fabia asked.
“China? Sure.”
“Not China,” Fabia said. “The… other place.”
Penglai Island. Ben shook his head. “I’ve only heard stories.”
“Pictures?”
“Not allowed.” He took Fabia’s hand and followed the signs toward immigration and customs. Before he could reach the line, he noticed a solemn Chinese man in a very nice suit trying to catch his attention.
Ben paused, recognized that the suit was far too expensive for a government employee, and walked over.
“Mr. Vecchio.” The man spoke with a crisp English accent. “If you’ll follow me, we can expedite your and your guest’s entry.”
“Thank you.” He followed the man toward the diplomatic entrance.
Their guide opened his wallet and showed the official his credentials. The official narrowed his eyes, looked Ben and Fabia up and down, then nodded. He pointed toward a desk where an attractive, smiling woman sat behind glass.
She examined their passports and visas, then she nodded and said, “Welcome to Beijing” before she motioned them toward the exit.
Ben continued following their guide toward the baggage claim, keeping Fabia’s hand in a firm grip.
“That was fast,” she said in Italian.
“Yes, it was.” Even faster than Ben had expected. He felt visible. Conspicuous. There were so many eyes on him it made his skin itch. So many cameras. So many observers. “But hey, we’re not standing in that hours-long line.”
“I’m in a dream, remember?” Fabia quipped. “There aren’t any hours-long lines in dreams.”
Ben smiled and saw the sign for the luggage claim.
Their guide looked over his shoulder. “If you’ll give me your claim tickets for the baggage—”
“I need to see your real credentials,” Ben said quietly. “Before we give you anything.”
The man stopped and turned. “Of course.” He handed Ben his wallet and a sealed letter from his inside jacket pocket.
Ben recognized the seal of Zhang Guo because he’d seen it over the years on letters sent to New York for Tenzin.
Interesting.
The letters weren’t from the court as a whole. Nor was their escort. That would be a different seal. This seal was Zhang Guo’s personal one, and the letter was written in a familiar flowing hand.
Mr. Vecchio,
I trust you are asking for Andrew’s credentials before you leave the airport. Mr. Leu has been a friend for seven years and will be escorting you to Penglai and informing you on all matters of protocol pertinent to your comfort.
Formal introduction to the court will occur when you reach the island. If you have any questions, Andrew will be happy to answer them. You can depend on his discretion as he reports only to me. No one else.
Welcome back to China, Mr. Vecchio. I look forward to meeting you.
His Excellency and most supreme elder,
Zhang Guolao
Ben took the letter, folded it, and slid it into his messenger bag. “Thank you, Andrew.”
“Of course, Mr. Vecchio.” He turned to Fabia. “May I take any of your luggage, Miss Salvadori?”
Fabia looked at Ben, who nodded in reassurance.
“Thank you.” She handed over her carry-on bag, keeping her purse tucked under her arm. “I’m looking forward to seeing more of Beijing.”
“We’ll be proceeding directly to a private airport for your next flight,” Andrew said.
“Oh.” Fabia looked deflated. “Wait, a private airport?” She frowned. “I thought the island was only accessible by boat.”
“It is.” Andrew followed Ben over to the luggage belt, which had started moving. “But it is a short flight from Beijing to the coastal city where we will catch the boat.”
Ben said, “Don’t forget how huge this country is.” He saw Fabia’s bag, grabbed it, and handed it to Andrew. “How big is the plane?”
“I assure you, it is very comfortable.”
“Cool.” Ben spotted his bag, and that was that. They hadn’t packed heavily. Giovanni and Beatrice had already arranged for formal clothes to be taken to Penglai for both Ben and Fabia since only traditional clothing was allowed on the island. Any other equipment they needed would be procured after formal
ities were over. “It’s all good, Fabi.”
“If you say so,” she said, clearly not thrilled about getting on another airplane.
As Ben had suspected, going through the private airport was little more than driving into a hangar, hopping on a small jet, and sitting down.
“Oh.” Fabia settled into the plush seat. “This isn’t bad.”
Ben smiled. “Yeah, it’s easy to get used to this kind of air travel.”
“How long is the flight?”
Andrew sat across from them. “An hour and a half.”
“And then the boat?”
The man nodded.
“And then the island.” Ben took the glass of sparkling water the flight attendant handed him. “Xièxiè.”
Her smile was sweet. “You’re very welcome, Mr. Vecchio.”
Like Andrew, her accent was English. “Is this Zhang’s plane?”
“No,” Andrew said. “It’s mine.”
“Huh.” Interesting. “So you have other businesses than simply being Zhang’s assistant.”
Andrew smiled. It was subtle, but Ben noticed it.
“I have many businesses,” he said. “Working for Zhang is my pleasure.”
Ben was dying to know, and Zhang said he could depend on Andrew’s discretion.
“Do you know Zhang’s daughter?”
Andrew’s expression didn’t change. “I do.”
“Is she on the island?”
“She is.”
Ben sipped his water and let it sink in. He’d be seeing Tenzin. That night. He’d be seeing her for the first time in months. He had no idea how to feel about that. He wasn’t happy, and yet…
There was a buzz of anticipation in his blood, and it pissed him off. He didn’t know what she was thinking or feeling. He didn’t know if she knew he was coming.
She knew.
Ben hated that the only clearly identifiable emotion he felt was anticipation. He was hungry for her and angry about it. She was a drug. An addiction.
What did she want from him? Why had she insisted on his being there? Was it a control thing? Ben didn’t know, and the more he thought about it, the more irritable he grew. It was probably a control thing. Tenzin played chess with people, and at that moment, Ben felt like a pawn.
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