A Fall of Water (4 page)

“I bet Matt’s going to be really excited.”

“I bet he’ll be surprised. I don’t think he thought it would happen this fast.” She paused. “Heck, I didn’t think it would happen this fast, but I suppose this is the logical result of all that sex.”

Beatrice snorted. “You’re so smart for a human.”

Dez narrowed her eyes. “‘For a human,’ huh? I’m smart for a human?” She tossed her hair, picking up a menu and waving her scent toward Beatrice. “Oh, look at the poor, pathetic human tempting the big, bad vampire. Poor vampire. Hungry are we?”

Beatrice growled low in her throat, feeling her fangs descend, even though she knew she wasn’t hungry. “Thtop it.”

“Oh!” Dez gasped in mock surprise. “Are those your fangs? How embarrassing. Is there anything you can do about that little situation?”

“You fink you’re tho funny.”

“I
am
funny.” Dez grinned. “Know what else is funny? Your lisp when you talk around your fangs.”

Beatrice swallowed the burn in her throat and willed her teeth to ascend. “One of these days, I’m going to bite you. Then you won’t think it’s so funny.”

“You better not. According to your accounts, I might like it a little
too
much.”

“Haha.”

Dez cackled. “It’s hilarious, you look like you
should
be blushing, but you can’t.”

“Why am I still friends with you?”

“Because I’m awesome. And you're going to be an auntie.”

Beatrice couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face and the tug at her heart. Though she had no desire for children, she was thrilled for her friend. “You’re going to be an amazing mom, Dez.”

“Oh…” Her face fell. “I’m going to get totally fat now. And you’ll never get fat. I kind of hate you for that. I wonder if Matt’s going to get totally grossed out.”

Beatrice shook her head. “Please. Matt adores you. He’s going to be thrilled—”

“B?”

She halted at the familiar voice of her ex-boyfriend.

“Beatrice?” She heard him again, but she didn’t turn around. Beatrice looked across at Dez, who just looked panicked. “Dez, is that you?”

She could hear Mano approaching the table. Before he could get a good look at her, Beatrice reached out and grabbed his hand, clasping his bare skin in her cool palm and letting her amnis crawl up his arm. She stood and faced him, never easing her grip.

“Hi, Mano,” she whispered. She looked over his shoulder, but he appeared to be alone. She looked back into the eyes of the man who had loved her. Who had seen her through one of the loneliest parts of her life with caring and self-sacrifice.

He blinked at her, his eyes already swimming with her influence. “You look different, baby.”

“I know.”

“You need some sun. Let’s go out on the boat tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “No, Mano. I’m fine.”

“Where have you been? I’ve missed you.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, searching his face, pained at the loneliness she found. The longing. “I’m fine. And so are you.”

“I am?”

“Yes. You saw me and you realized that you had moved on.”

“But I love you.”

Beatrice gripped his hand, stroking her thumb along the calluses on his palm “No, you’ve moved on. And you’re ready to meet someone new. Someone who will love you as much as you love her.”

“I am?” He blinked at her.

“Yep. You saw me, and we caught up. And you heard that Gio and I are married and really happy now, and you were happy, too. Because you realized that you don’t love me anymore.”

He shook his head, and she forced her influence further into his mind, pushing back the tears at his familiar scent. Mano still smelled like sunshine and the sea.

“Right,” he finally said with a small smile. “You look great. I don’t love you anymore.”

“Nope,” she choked out. “And you’re going to meet someone great. And you’re going to fall in love.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’ve missed you, baby.” He smiled at her again, the soft smile he wore when he was sleepy.

“I missed you, too.” It wasn’t a lie. She had missed Mano, even though she loved Giovanni with all her heart. She forced out a smile. “Bye, Mano. You’re going to go home now.”

He nodded and leaned down as if to kiss her, but she backed away. He still smiled.

“Bye, B.”

She finally let go of his warm hand, and he turned and walked away down the dark street. Beatrice turned back to Dez, pulled her wallet out of her pocket, and threw down some cash. Dez reached over and squeezed her hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I need to go.”

“That the first time?”

She nodded, forcing back the tears that threatened her eyes. “Yeah, it was just a surprise, you know? I was surprised.”

“Well, you did great. And you were really kind to do that. He, um, he called Matt for months. He was worried about you. Will he remember anything?”

Beatrice waved her hand as Dez stood. “Just... vague stuff. He should remember he saw me, but the exact memories will be kind of cloudy. Hopefully, I did it right.”

“Are you going to tell Gio you saw him?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t try to hide it. And he’ll smell him anyway.”

Dez just stared at her before she walked down the street, Beatrice following after. “Vampires are weird.”

“I’ll remind you of that when you have a giant human parasite sucking the life out of you and making you ill.”

“Shut up, bloodsucker.”

Beatrice walked into the kitchen behind Ben, who immediately ran upstairs to shower and call one of the girls who had been texting him during his practice.

“Ben,” she called, “it’s eleven o’clock, and you practiced hard. You better get some sleep.”

“Sure thing, B!”

“Goodnight.”

“‘Night! Night, Isadora!”

She glanced at her grandmother, who was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book. “Good night, Benjamin.”

Beatrice leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her grandmother’s delicate cheek. At age seventy-eight, Isadora Alvarez De Novo Davidson had lost none of the liveliness from her vivid green eyes; though her step was slower, her mind was not.

“And how is Dez?”

“Pregnant, but don’t tell anyone. It’s early.”

“Oh!” Isadora smiled. “How wonderful. And the Kirbys will be thrilled.”

“It’s really early, so Matt doesn’t even know. That’s why you can’t tell anyone.”

Isadora frowned. “How early? Matt doesn’t know?”

“Nope. I just told her tonight.” Beatrice munched on an almond from the bowl her grandmother had out. “She smelled different. I got all fang-y.”

Isadora was quiet for a minute. “You know, sometimes it’s easy to forget you are a vampire, and sometimes, it’s not.”

Beatrice grinned and let her fangs run down. Isadora slapped at her shoulder. “Stop it, Mariposa!”

She giggled and took two almonds, sticking them on her fangs and muttering around them. “Yep, thcary, thcary vampire here.”

They both broke into giggles, until Beatrice finally calmed down. “Where’s Caspar?”

“He drove Matt and Gio to the meeting at Ernesto’s.”

“Ah.”

“I’m going to go to sleep soon. I just thought I’d stay up to say hello. I missed you this afternoon.”

“I was in the library.”

“Looking at Geber’s journals?”

“Yup.” The journals, which her father had left in Tywyll’s care, were all written in the alchemist’s own strange code. In addition to learning Old Persian, Beatrice was also trying to decipher the peculiar phrases and code words the medieval scientist had used to disguise his research. If she could decode them, they might learn the identity of Geber’s original test subjects and be that much closer to solving the mystery of the elixir. Though they hadn’t heard a peep from Lorenzo, his presence lurked in her mind, teasing her that the book Stephen had taken was in his possession again.

“Mariposa?”

“Hmm?” She looked up at her grandmother.

“I said I’m going to bed now.”

“Oh.” She rose and kissed Isadora’s cheek. “Night, Grandma.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’ll probably be in the library around ten or so.”

“Have a good night.”

Isadora shuffled through the door and down the hall toward the ground floor rooms that Giovanni had converted into a suite for Caspar and Isadora. She could hear Ben walking around upstairs and felt the quiet hum of the electrical currents and waves of Wi-Fi that Matt had installed for Ben. The house may have been quiet, but it was never really still the way their house in Cochamó was, and Beatrice realized why Giovanni would get frustrated if he was surrounded by technology for too long. The modern world, to the senses of an immortal, was relentlessly noisy.

She was happily lost in a novel and curled up in the living room when the sound of the Mercedes broke through. She smiled at Caspar when he walked through the door. The clock on the wall pointed toward one and the old man bent down to kiss her cheek.

“Good night, my dear. I’ll see you in the morning. This old man is exhausted.”

“Night, Cas.”

“What time did she turn in?”

“A few hours ago.”

“I’ll be joining her. Have fun with him.”

“Oh?” She said, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Caspar shrugged. “Don’t ask me. He’s being terribly silent tonight.”

“Huh, weird. He was fine earlier. Did everything go all right with Ernesto?”

“I believe so. He didn’t seem upset. Just... quiet.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in the morning. Night.”

He gave her a small salute and walked down the hall just as Giovanni walked through the door. He wore a strange expression and sat beside her. She stared at him as he looked off into the distance. Finally, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick, cream envelope with a broken wax seal. The interior was filigreed in gold leaf, and she could see a swirl of calligraphy peeking out from the letter inside.

“Hi. What’s this? Caspar said you were doing the moody, silent thing. What’s up?”

Giovanni tossed the envelope on her lap and leaned back, throwing an arm around her on the couch.

“Beatrice, how do you feel about Rome in the springtime?”

Chapter Two

Crotone, Italy

1494

“Where am I?”

“Your new home.”

Jacopo looked around the room, blinking. It looked nothing like the warm chambers of his uncle’s villa in Ferrara or the bustling of Benevieni’s house in Florence. The dim room where he woke was dark and damp. Though there were clean rushes that littered the floor, the chill of the air seemed to seep in through his bare feet and the smell of the ocean was everywhere. He sat on the edge of a small bed that smelled of sweet straw and herbs.

“This is not my home.”

Signore Andros only smiled at him indulgently. The strange man had always bothered Jacopo, though never the same way as the teasing courtiers of Florence or Rome. He had learned at a young age to escape their stealthy hands and avoid their attention, but from the beginning, Niccolo Andros had seemed to be a different sort. Jacopo had never understood his uncle’s fascination with the Greek, despite his wealth, knowledge, and connections.

“This
is
your home. And will be until I decide you are ready to move on.”

“And when will that be?”

Andros only shrugged. “There is no rush. We must complete your education first. You are very young, even for a human. You have not yet reached your prime. That is why I have chosen you to be my student.”

Jacopo may have been young, but he watched Andros with canny eyes. The boy had managed his uncle’s servants for many years and had been an observer of human nature for far longer. Jacopo had never mingled with the other young men at court or even the servants his own age. He had always felt most comfortable among his uncle’s books or in the company of Giovanni’s friends.

He sat up a little straighter. “I am already well-educated. My uncle saw to my education. You know this, Signore.”

“I do. That is why I chose you. You are extremely bright for a human.” Andros stepped back, examining Jacopo as if he was an animal for sale. “Of fine form. Healthy. Yes, I’m very satisfied with my choice.”

Jacopo cocked his head, and his mind began to spin. Andros had called him a “human,” as if there was some other option, and there remained a faint, dull ache at the base of his skull. He felt as if he had woken from a strange fever, but his body did not ache, only his mind. His memory flashed to the strange preachers on the streets of Paris, raving about demons and spirits. His uncle had dismissed them as lunatics.

“You are young,” Andros continued with a nod. “You will adapt nicely.”

“What do you want from me?”

The odd man smiled. “It is not what I want
from
you. It is what I want to give to you.

Instinct caused Jacopo’s stomach to churn, and his eyes darted around the room, searching for escape.

“Don’t panic.” Andros laughed. “I mean you no harm. Your uncle is dead. Florence continues its descent into madness.” He came and sat next to Jacopo on the small bed, but kept a comfortable distance. “You will be safe with me. Cared for.”

“Cared for?” The reality of his isolation hit him at last. Jacopo wondered what the servants thought had happened to him. His uncle had only been dead a few hours when the footman had announced that Signore Niccolo Andros had come to the villa. He remembered meeting the man in the study, but nothing else. “What has happened to my uncle?” Jacopo asked in a soft voice.

“Your uncle is dead,” Andros said. “His family will bury him. The servants have sent for them already.”

A slow ache twisted in his chest. “I am his family.”

“No, you aren’t.”

Jacopo’s eyes closed in pain. He was weary. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep. If he woke, perhaps this would be revealed to be a strange nightmare. If he woke, his uncle might be alive. His warm feather bed would be beneath him. He would hear the maid singing a lilting song in the courtyard.