A Fall of Water (2 page)

Beatrice sniffed. “So I’m not a big baby for missing my dad like this? Some days, I feel like I barely want to leave my room. And then when Giovanni left... Honestly, if Carwyn would leave me alone more, I would curl up under the covers and never come out.”

“And that is why he pesters you so much.”

She snorted. “Yeah, I kind of figured.”

“You are loved, Beatrice De Novo. By so many. On your darkest days, don’t forget that.”

April

He woke in their bed, alone; her sheets were not even rumpled.

“Beatrice?”

There was no answer. He raced out to the living room, where all the windows had been blacked out and covered by curtains so she could have the freedom of the house during the daylight hours.

“Beatrice?”

She was sitting by the fire, staring into it with blank eyes. There was an open textbook on her lap.

“Tesoro?”

She finally blinked and turned to him.

He walked toward her slowly. “Did you sleep at all today? Have you been reading this whole time?”

Beatrice looked down to the book on her lap, then over at Giovanni, who sat down beside her.

“I can read Greek now.” His heart sank when he saw the lost look she wore. “Do you think he knows?”

Giovanni reached over and closed the book, taking both her hands in his before he pulled her onto his lap. “Yes.”

May

He teased her as she stood in the kitchen, warming the blood before she drank.

“Come outside. Swim with me. We’ll go to the waterfall.” He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nipping at the hollow behind her earlobe.

She shrugged as she stirred the blood. “It’s getting cold now.”

“So I’ll heat up the pool. You’re married to a fire vampire; take advantage of me however you like. I’ll make it a hot tub if that’s what you want. Just come swimming. Go running. Leave the house.”

“Gio, you’re acting like I’m a hermit or something. I’ve just got a lot to read right now and I’m working on my Persian so I can read the journals, and—”

“And you haven’t left the house in a week.”

She frowned. “It hasn’t... it’s only been a couple of days.”
Hadn’t it?

He turned her around so she was facing him. “The last night you left the house was the night Carwyn had to leave, and that was over a week ago.”

Beatrice took a drink of the blood. It wasn’t as fresh as she liked it, but they had to order blood from Puerto Montt or drink pig’s blood, so she was willing to put up with the stale taste if it meant no pigs. “Fine. I’ll go swimming.”

Giovanni cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so excited.”

She mustered up a giant, fake grin and plastered it on her face. “There,” she said through gritted teeth, “see how excited I am?”

He narrowed his eyes, then pinched her waist and stuck his tongue out in her direction. Her jaw dropped. “Did you just stick your tongue out at me?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

She only looked at him, confused, before she burst into laughter. Beatrice laughed and laughed, bending over as bloody tears came to her eyes. She heard Giovanni chuckle a little, but knew he was only laughing at her own amusement.

It was the loudest she had laughed in months.

June

“Have you bitten anyone yet?”

She cleared her throat.
Well, Ben, just your uncle, but you really don’t need to know about that, do you?
Beatrice took a pencil, pressing on the button on the front of the radio phone to reply. “Nope. I’m clean so far.”

“Good.” She heard Ben reply. “Just remember, if you do need to drain someone, make sure it’s someone really evil or really annoying. Or my geometry teacher, though that would be a pretty long way to travel for a meal.”

“Got it. And, of course, there’s the whole ‘killing an innocent human being’ thing, too.”

“Oh, he’s not innocent; he gives pop quizzes.”

Beatrice laughed. “Ben, I’m not going to kill your math teacher.”

“I’m just saying, when we get home, keep it in mind. I’m pretty sure no one would miss him.”

“Right.” She played with the edge of her book, trying not to notice Giovanni hovering in the corner. He wore a small, satisfied smirk that she was interacting with the outside world again. “So, how’s school? How’s everything going?”

“Can Gio hear us?”

She muffled a laugh and pressed the respond button again. “Yes.”

“Oh, well then, it’s going magnificently. I’m so fortunate to have a knowledgeable and patient teacher like my uncle, who is imparting his centuries of wisdom into my eager young mind.”

Beatrice was rolling on the couch, laughing, when Giovanni walked over and pressed the respond button. “Tell me more, oh eager young nephew, who will be translating an extra passage of Virgil tomorrow afternoon.”

“Dude!” Ben protested. “Gio, that’s not cool. Hear her laughing? When was the last time you made her laugh like that?”

Giovanni cocked his head at Beatrice and let an evil grin cross his face.

Beatrice stopped laughing and leaped on him. “You better not!” she hissed as they tumbled to the floor, breaking one of the dining room chairs as they rolled.

“Whatever could you be talking about?” He laughed as he trapped her legs between his own and rolled on top of her. “I was simply going to tell him how much you like it when I—”

Beatrice cut him off with a kiss, rolling them over so that she was lying on his chest. She pinned him at the shoulders as the speakerphone squawked in the background.

“Guys? Gio? Did you short out the phone again?” Giovanni and Beatrice continued to roll across the dining room and into the living room, taking out another chair as each tried to best the other in their playful wrestling match.

“B? Can you hear me?”

Giovanni gripped her hips and rocked against her, ignoring the voice in the background.

“You guys are fooling around, aren’t you?” Ben sighed over the line. “That’s so gross.”

They didn’t notice when the phone clicked.

July

“What were you thinking?” He patted her face with cool cloths, more for his own peace of mind than anything else. She was already healing.

“I just wanted to see a glimpse of it,” she said sullenly. “Just a... sliver. I didn’t think I would burn that fast.”

He fought back the scream he wanted to level at her. “You’re too young, Tesoro. You just—” He broke off and clutched her to his chest, frightened beyond words. “Do you realize what would have happened if I hadn’t been quick enough?”

“Crispy critter,” she said as she pulled away from him. “I’m fine.”

“Do not make light of this.”

“Don’t order me around.”

He clutched her shoulders again and spoke in a hard voice, holding fast when she tried to squirm away. “Do you realize what it would do to me? To Benjamin?”

“Not fair.”

“To Isadora? To Caspar? How about Carwyn?”

“Shut up!” She shoved him away and tried to stand, but her eyes were still blinded from the seconds of sun she had felt on her face.

“How about Dez? Matt? Isabel? Gustavo? Tenzin?”

“Tenzin does not give two shits about me, Gio!” She rose to her feet and grabbed the back of the couch.

He grabbed her hand. “You know that’s not true.”

“Then where the hell is she?”

August

He was playing again. He often did right before dawn. Relaxing things. Slow melodies by Bach or Satie or Chopin. Things he knew she loved. She wondered if it was an attempt to quiet her and let her rest, even though she rarely took comfort in sleep anymore. There were only a few hours a day that she was able to sleep. She didn’t tire, but she did envy the peaceful oblivion that slumber had once provided.

And dreaming. She missed dreaming.

Beatrice approached the piano, sliding next to Giovanni on the narrow bench he had pushed back to fit his long legs. He didn’t cease playing the Nocturne when he leaned over and kissed her.

“Hello.”

“Hey.”

“Want me to show you a few things?”

“Nope.”

“A little Mozart melody?” His fingers tripped up the keys. “You’ll be amazed by how fast you pick it up.”

“Still nope.”

September

“How could you?” She threw him into the face of the cliff, tossing him as if he weighed nothing when he finally caught up with her on the road back to the valley.

“He was old. He was going to die within a few weeks, Beatrice.”

She paced back and forth in the small clearing. “But
I
didn’t need to be the one to kill him.” Streaks of crimson tears marred her perfect white skin. The rain beat down on them and the wind whipped through the small pass.

He tried to speak in a low, calming voice. “You broke out of the bloodlust much quicker than I had imagined. You’re doing very well.”

“But I still killed him, Gio! I did. And you stood there and let me. You stood by and let me kill that old man doing nothing more than sitting in his garden.”

Giovanni slowly stood, still keeping his distance. “If he had been in good health, you would not have killed him. But he was sick, Tesoro. Surely, you must have tasted it in his blood. He was in pain. Your amnis calmed him as you drank. He didn’t feel anything.”

She screamed and pulled at her hair. “How could you let me kill him?”

“It was a mercy.”

“No!” she yelled and rushed him, knocking him over and pummeling his face. She loosed her rage on her mate until he grabbed her hands. He could barely contain her; Beatrice had become almost immeasurably strong. “Why? Why did you let me murder him?”

With a surge, he rolled over until she was lying under him, sobbing in the rain as the bloody tears ran down her face and into the mud.

“This is why! Do you understand? Look at me, Beatrice.” He finally caught her narrowed eye and she bared her teeth at him. “Look at me and listen right now. Did I let you kill that old man? Yes, and I’ll tell you why.”

He took a softer hand and brushed at the tears that stained her cheeks. “Because one day, very soon, it’s not going to be a sick stranger in a garden that tempts you.” He sat back and pulled her to sit in front of him, the rain still beating on their backs.

“Someday very soon, it’s going to be Benjamin. Or your grandmother. Or Caspar or Dez or Matt. It’s going to be someone you love. An innocent stranger on a train or walking down the street at night. And the temptation is going to knock you over and every instinct in you is going to be screaming to take and drink and not to stop because there is
nothing
in the human world more powerful than you. Do you understand what I’m saying?” He grabbed the collar of her soaked overcoat and pulled her closer. She still stared at him with sullen, tear-filled eyes as he continued.

“And when that moment comes, I want you to remember how you feel right now. I want you to remember this moment for the rest of your existence because that is what will keep the humans around you safe from the monster that lives inside you. That lives inside all of us.”

Her eyes were dull as she stared at him. Her hands limp and lying at her sides.

“I hate you.”

“I love you.”

October

“Beatrice?”

She glanced at him, but didn’t speak.

“Have you fed tonight?”

He looked so calm as he wrapped his needless scarf around his neck and prepared to go down to the lodge for Ben’s lessons.

She nodded.

“Call if you need anything.”

She shrugged and turned back to the fire. They hadn’t exchanged blood since she had killed the old man. Her logical brain understood why Giovanni had allowed her to do it, but the gaping void in her chest, the hollow that never seemed to be filled, was only growing deeper the longer she let her anger fester.

And she couldn’t see a way to bridge the gap that had opened between them.

An hour later, there was a knock at the door. So focused on the fire, she failed to register the approaching energy. A storm system had moved into the valley, bringing thunder, lightning, and causing her senses to go haywire in the charged air.

Beatrice rose and went to the door, gasping when she recognized the smell of cardamom on the other side. She flung it open and Tenzin was there, silent and soaked from the rain. Her shorn hair hung in thick chunks around her face as she waited on the porch.

Simultaneous rage and love reared up in Beatrice. She raised her hand to strike, but Tenzin only reached out and caught her fist before it made contact. Beatrice shook, then she crumbled to the ground, sobbing out her grief, anger, and heartbreak as her father’s mate knelt down and gathered her in an embrace. Tenzin kicked the door closed and tucked Beatrice’s head under her chin, rocking her back and forth as Beatrice clutched at her dirty white robes.

“I’m here, my girl. I’m back.”

November

“It’s normal to feel that, you know.”

Tenzin and Beatrice were sparring on the edge of a clearing as one of Gustavo’s men looked on. A human, one of the guides that worked in the valley during the summer months, sat at his feet. While Beatrice had very good control around humans most of the time, Tenzin had emphasized the importance of learning how to fight while the distraction was nearby. Considering Lorenzo had used the scent of human blood to pin her and kill her father, Beatrice was quick to agree to the practice, no matter how much her throat burned.

“Feel what?”

“That void from Stephen’s loss. It will fade with time, but there will always be a trace. You were sired from his blood; it would be unnatural to not feel the lack of him.”

They moved in a dancing fight, Beatrice’s style having developed into something uniquely her own in the year since she had turned. It was a melding of the martial arts that she had practiced as a human, Gemma’s vicious street-fighting, and Tenzin’s flowing, but lethal, ballet. Though Tenzin was still faster, Beatrice was more than able to keep up.