A Fall of Water (21 page)

Giovanni stared into the hateful eyes of his son as Lorenzo accompanied Emil Conti and Ziri into his dungeon. He knew, from all outward appearances, that he was being treated well. Though he refused to speak, the two men would have seen the simple, comfortable furnishings that Livia had brought to his cell the previous evening.

He was being fed every evening. He needed it; otherwise the nightly rage that Livia loosed upon him would have been far more evident. Luckily for her, his freshly washed clothes hid the red slashes across his chest, back, and thighs from where she tortured him.

“As you can see, signores, Signore Vecchio is being treated well, despite his refusal to speak or confess his crimes. Livia provides him with plentiful meals and all the necessary comforts, and she will continue to do so until a determination of his guilt can be provided to the court’s satisfaction.”

Emil nodded. “I do see, Lorenzo. And while I am satisfied that Giovanni is well—”

The canny water vampire drew Lorenzo into a detailed discussion of Giovanni’s “case” leaving Ziri to mouth his ghostly whispers from across the room.

‘Is she feeding you? Blink once for ‘yes.’’

Giovanni blinked.

‘Is she torturing you?’

Giovanni did not blink.

‘You are lying. I can see a mark on your chest. But I will not tell your wife.’

Giovanni mouthed,
Thank you
.

‘She is well, and your friends are working toward your release. Do you understand?’

He blinked once.

‘Keep strong. You will be in your mate’s arms soon. And remain silent, as much as you can.’

He blinked again.

‘Your grandsire would be very proud of you, if he could see your strength.’

When Giovanni blinked, it was not in response to anything the old wind vampire had asked. A frown spread across his face.

‘Keep silent. I knew your grandsire well. We will speak—truly speak—soon, Jacopo.’

“—and so I am satisfied for now, but this matter must be resolved quickly. I do not care for this drawn-out process. It disrupts business and becomes an unnecessary distraction for the younger members of the court.”

Lorenzo nodded at Emil with respect. “I will make mention of your concerns to Livia, Signore Conti. And Ziri?”

The old vampire glanced toward Lorenzo, seemingly disinterested in his surroundings. “Yes?”

“Are you satisfied that the prisoner is being taken care of in a proper way? Do we have your testimony to this? Your opinion would go very far in assuaging some of the more squeamish members of the court.”

Ziri waved a hand. “Oh, yes. He’s fine. I was simply curious. The design of this chamber...” He looked around in an academic way. “It is most unusual. Will it hold him, do you think?”

“I cannot go into the specifics, of course. But be assured, it is very secure.” Lorenzo’s lip curled as he eyed Giovanni in the corner. “Even against a vampire as ruthless and cunning as my father.”

When Giovanni woke the next night, Livia was in his chamber, staring at him.

“I told him to kill you,” she said.

Giovanni only shrugged.

“When Andros wrote to say he had sired you to fire, I told him then that he should spare himself the trouble and kill you.”

He blinked and felt along his bare chest to see if the new wounds she had opened the previous night had already closed. They had.

“He didn’t listen to me, of course. He rarely did.”

She walked over to the side of his bed and sat on it. He lay still and silent, stretching his arms up and knitting his fingers together behind his head. Livia’s eyes roamed his chest, and she reached down to trace along the red marks she had made the night before.

“I understood, of course. You were always so beautiful. He was so proud of you. Bright. Strong.” She dug her small hands into the defined muscles along his abdomen. “So strong. Stronger than him, as it turned out.”

He still said nothing, letting her voice whatever tormented thoughts crowded her mind.

“And I once thought he was the strongest being I would ever meet. I adored him, you know. The first time Andros snuck into my bedchamber, my husband was snoring in my bed, the fat pig. But Andros...”

A wistful smile touched her lips as she gazed into the past. “I had seen him at the banquet that night. He was so handsome.
Strong
. His dark hair was thick and his belly was flat. And no matter how much wine touched his lips, he did not grow drunk. I saw him looking at me, so I encouraged him. Why not?”

Her fingers stroked his skin, drawing damp circles as she reminisced.

“He snuck into our villa that night and fucked me against a wall as my husband snored beside us. It was magnificent.”

Though his stomach churned, Giovanni remained motionless and silent. At least she wasn’t stabbing him.

“When he finally brought a vampire to turn me, Andros tied my husband up and made him watch. That was even better. Andros fucked me and drained my blood, then my sire gave me his before Andros killed him so he would not interfere. He was nothing. A pawn. I was Andros’s
mate
. From the first night of my immortality, I belonged to him.”

Livia smiled and ran a finger across his throat.

“My first meal was my stupid, fat husband. I can still taste his blood. It tasted like revenge. While it wasn’t cold, thank the gods...” She bent down and whispered into his ear. “It was very,
very
sweet.”

Livia took both hands and traced along Giovanni’s arms.

“But you, Giovanni... Andros loved you. He adored you. Almost as much as me, I think.”

Far more, you stupid cow.
Giovanni rolled his eyes.

She curled her lip and slapped him. “If only he had listened to me and killed you.”

Livia rose and stepped away from him. “Do you know who built this chamber? Your father did. I told him if he was determined to keep you, then he must build a chamber here that could contain you. I never trusted you, do you understand that? In five hundred years. Never.”

Giovanni sat up and looked around. So, this chamber was of his father’s design?

“He could be such a genius. Turning me. Using my human connections and my dead husband’s gold. Finding the book. We were made to rule, he and I. We
would
have ruled, if you hadn’t killed him, you stupid boy.”

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat silently, examining her. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

“The. Roman. Whore.”

She pulled a dagger from between her breasts, walked over, and stabbed him in the neck. Bending down, she whispered, “I will enjoy killing you. Then I will drink your blood and the blood of your little wife, you bastard.”

Livia spun and left the room as Giovanni sat stunned and blinking.

So, his father had built this chamber.

Giovanni pulled the dagger from his neck and pressed a sheet to the wound.

And Livia had left him a blade.

How generous.

Chapter Fourteen

Residenza di Spada

Rome, Italy

June 2012

It was late afternoon, and the house was buzzing with activity.

Ben and Dez were doing research into Bulgarian cosmetics companies and their not-exactly-public financial information. They were trying to determine who else might be funding Livia’s enterprise, or if she was in it on her own. So far, Elder Zhongli was the only other immortal they’d found any evidence of and, according to Tenzin, he was most decidedly dead.

Matt seemed to be making phone call after phone call in the downstairs study. She couldn’t tell whom exactly he was talking to, but Beatrice thought he was speaking French.

She could hear Carwyn and Ziri making plans downstairs in the library. Carwyn had an appointment to speak to someone at the Vatican about unrelated church business, and Ziri was speaking with Emil Conti about a visit to see Giovanni wherever Livia was holding him. Apparently, no one knew of Ziri’s connection to Beatrice or Stephen, so he could be presented as an impartial observer and gain access to the dungeons. Emil Conti was willing to play along.

Angela had been cooking all day. The whole house was suffused with the smell of herb bread, lemon, and fresh basil from the pesto she made.

If she listened closely, Beatrice could hear the soft rise and fall of Lucien’s breaths in the second floor guest room. He had been at the house for over a week and Beatrice was still surprised by how weary the simplest tasks seemed to make him.

Tenzin left just before dawn, saying she had some business to take care of and would take shelter with the Chinese delegation she would be joining with Elder Lu’s son.

So Beatrice sat in her empty bedroom, wearing one of Giovanni’s shirts she’d stolen from the laundry, and going quietly mad as another day passed without her husband resting in their bed.

Finally, she picked up the phone and called Los Angeles.

“Hello?”

“Caspar?”

“Beatrice, darling—Isadora, B’s on the phone.” She heard the quick shuffle of feet and her grandmother picked up the other line.

“Mariposa?”

Beatrice smiled just hearing her voice. “Hey, Grandma.”

“How are you, dear? Matt called us a few days ago, and Dez called us yesterday, but they didn’t seem to know much.”

“No change, really.”

“But it’s been over a week now! Has anyone been to see him? Does he get a—a lawyer? A doctor? Is there anyone that you can call or petition?”

“It’s not really that kind of arrest, Grandma.”

She heard Caspar soothing her grandmother in the background.

“Beatrice.” His calm voice soothed her, as well. “I know Tenzin and Carwyn are there. Are there any other vampires who have publicly voiced support for Giovanni?”

“Not publicly. At least not right now. She’s really powerful, Cas. These Roman vampires are like sheep or something. There are a few who seem to stand up to her, but for the most part, they all just follow along.”

“She’s still being careful. Gio has enough of a reputation for her to be very cautious about all of this. I expect she’s quite angry about having to arrest him as she did. It doesn’t sound as if that was her plan. Please be patient, my dear.”

Beatrice knew all of it. She had heard the arguments for patience and prudence. She had listened and followed the instructions of those far older and more experienced than she, vampires she knew loved Giovanni, too. Still, she could feel the tears well up in her eyes, and she cleared her throat. Caspar trailed off.

“How are you holding up, dear girl?”

Her voice caught. “Um… can I… can I just talk to my grandma for a little bit, Caspar?”

“Of course.” She heard him put the phone down, followed by  a few murmurs in the background and a closing door before Isadora came back on the line.

“Beatrice?”

At the sound of her name, silent tears began to stream down her face. Soon, she was choking on her cries as Isadora made soothing noises in the background.

“Oh, my girl. If I could only be there for you now.”

“I can’t do this, Grandma. I can’t be who I’m supposed to be without him here.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No! Everything’s wrong. I can’t think straight. I don’t feel like myself. I have to force myself to eat, and I know it’s not good for me. I can usually sleep a little bit when he’s here, but now, it’s just…
nothing
. And everything is wrong, and I can’t do this.”

“Beatrice, you can. And according to what everyone says, this is upsetting, but—”

“It’s not upsetting! It’s infuriating!” She stood and tried pacing the room, but the rotary phone wouldn’t let her get far. She gripped the back of the chair so hard that the wood splintered. “I’m so angry, I want to kill something, Grandma. I want to kill
her
. I want to tear her heart out. I want to rip Lorenzo’s head off his body and toss it to a pack of dogs. I want to round up all the spineless weaklings that follow her orders and tear every last one of them apart. I want to burn this damn city to the ground and spit in its ashes. And there is nothing—
nothing
—I can do except sit here and wait for ridiculous protocol and negotiations!”

By the time she had vented her anger, her grandmother was speechless.

“Well...”

“Grandma?”

“Beatrice, this is one of those times when I am reminded that you are a vampire now.”

A harsh laugh broke from her throat, but it quickly turned to tears again. She brushed at her tears. “I’m pretty sure I’d feel this way if I was still human, too.”

“Possibly, but the potential to carry out the bloodshed would not be as likely.”

She grabbed another of Giovanni’s handkerchiefs and cleaned her blood-streaked face.

“Beatrice, you must be strong. For him. For yourself. For Ben. Control your anger. Nothing good can come from losing control. I’m sure they’re probably expecting you to be foolish and out of your mind with your Gio in prison, so prove them wrong.”

“I know you’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’m your grandmother.”

She couldn’t help the smile. “Thanks, Grandma.” There was silence over the phone as both women seemed to catch their breath.

“Hey, Grandma?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Distract me, okay? Tell me what trouble you and Caspar have been up to lately.”

Isadora’s tinkling laugh did more to soothe her weary heart than all the kind words from her friends.

“Well, I went to a wonderful painting workshop at the Huntington the other day. Did you know that Caspar has started volunteering in the gardens there? All those little old women just adore him. I’d be jealous, but it’s too adorable how he preens for them. It’s rose season now, and you know how he loves his roses. Oh! And I should tell you about the art opening that Ernesto took us to the other night. It was wonderful, the girl who was featured…”

As Isadora chattered about roses and art galleries, Beatrice closed her eyes. The familiar voice of her grandmother and the everyday news she spoke of was its own kind of meditation. A reminder that, past the blood and the intrigue, beyond the danger and the heartache, another kind of life waited for her and Giovanni. A life filled with family and love. With their own pursuits and challenges.