A Fall of Water (7 page)

“You’re so weird.”

“I’m not the one following my aunt and uncle and being a Peeping Tim.”

“Tom.”

“Who?”

Ben reached over to tug at a chunk of her dark hair. “Never mind.”

“Is he gone?” Beatrice sipped a glass of wine and peeked at Giovanni from the corner of her eye as he sat across from her at the small table.

“Yes, she grabbed him. They’re walking back to the warehouse now.”

“Why do you think he was he following us?”

Giovanni shrugged and picked up the glass of Jameson she had ordered for him. “I heard him asking Caspar—in what he probably thought was a subtle way—about what we’re eating. He’s probably curious. He knows we’re not feeding from bagged blood anymore. Do you think he’s worried we’re draining the innocent and wreaking havoc on Southern California?”

Beatrice snorted. “Well, will you have a talk with him tomorrow, so we don’t have a repeat of this?”

Giovanni curled his lip, but nodded. “I avoided the sex talk, so I suppose it’s only fair.”

She looked at her mate, amused by the uncomfortable expression on his face. It was the oddest things that seemed to be an issue for him. Teaching Ben how to kill someone silently and with minimal blood spray? No problem. Telling him about sex or feeding? Immediate squirm.

Beatrice laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, but her ears perked up when she heard the booming voice of the college boy at the table next to her. The young man was regaling his friends with some highly unlikely sexual exploit. He was also, apparently, familiar with a surprising number of professional athletes, Hollywood starlets, and at least one dangerous African warlord.

Her eyes lit up, and she looked at Giovanni. “Go ahead,” he said with a smile. “He’s your favorite flavor.”

She grinned. “I do love the sweet taste of bragging liar.”

Her husband chuckled, shaking his head and leaning back to watch her work. As soon as the bragging boy went back to the bar, she followed him. He was taking a long draw from his imported beer when Beatrice sidled up to him. His eyes raked over her breasts before he finally looked up to her eyes. She smiled, careful to conceal her fangs.

“Hi, how are you?”

She held him by the neck in the back alley. “And what are you doing in your classes?”

The boy’s dazed eyes swam. “Well... not much.”

“So you’re wasting all the hard-earned money that your parents are putting into your education?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Do you think your mother’s proud of you?”

The drunk boy shook his head sadly. “Probably not.”

“But you’re going to turn over a new leaf, right, Dave?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded with a smile. “Totally.”

“Good. Make your parents proud of you.”

“Okay.”

“And the next girlfriend you have, you’re going to be respectful and faithful, right?”

“Right.”

She heard the back door open and felt Giovanni’s energy as he walked toward them.

“Are you being a guidance counselor again? Stop playing with your food.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “I get blood; he gets some good advice.”

“Can’t you just drink him so we can do other, more
interesting
, things?” She heard the low growl in his voice and decided the college boy had been given enough advice for one night. She looked back at Dave, letting her amnis wash up his neck.

“Give me your wrist.”

He lifted his wrist and she grabbed it, turning to stare at her mate as she bared her fangs and struck. She heard the boy give a low sigh of pleasure as she drank from him, but she kept a firm grip on his throat, monitoring his pulse as she locked her eyes with Giovanni’s.

Her mate watched her with hungry eyes, pacing a short distance away, and she saw his fangs grow long in his mouth. His tongue darted out and licked his lips as he watched her drink, and Beatrice knew that she would not be the only one feeding that night. She took a few more deep swallows of the boy’s blood before she sealed the wounds and whispered instructions in his ear, keeping her eyes on Giovanni the whole time.

The mindless boy wandered back into the bar, and Giovanni waited for the alley door to click before he sprung on her. He shoved Beatrice up against the wall, pushing her arms over her head as he attacked her mouth. One hand held her wrists against the sharp brick while the other slid down her side, dragging her hips to his as he pushed their bodies together.

Beatrice hissed and bared her fangs, reacting instinctively to his attack. Her hands fought against his iron grip, and she finally worked one free only to reach around and drag Giovanni even closer, pulling at his shirt and digging her fingers into the hot flesh at the small of his back. He whipped her around so that he was leaning against the wall and she climbed his body, locking her thighs around his hips as they moved together.

“Home,” he snarled.

“Here. We’ll hear anyone coming.”

“Fine.” Giovanni grabbed her hair, angling her neck to the side as she gasped. “You listen, I have other things to do.”

Her eyes rolled back when his fangs struck. If anyone interrupted them after that, Beatrice just didn’t notice.

“They’re babies! It doesn’t count!”

“Yes, it does.”

Beatrice frowned when she heard Ben and Tenzin arguing from the living room as she and Giovanni walked through the kitchen door hours later.

“Babies can’t help drooling, so it doesn’t count.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at Giovanni, who only shrugged his shoulders.

“I think you’re wrong.” They heard Tenzin speak again. “And I am older, so I am right.”

“Do you think that B and Gio will ever adopt a baby?”

“I certainly hope not. They’re very messy, and they smell horrible.”

Beatrice shook her head and walked toward the living room. Giovanni locked the door behind him before he followed her.

“If we do,” she said as she entered the room, “you two will be last on the babysitting list, that’s for sure.”

“Hey!” Ben raised his hands. “I was defending the human babies. Tenzin is the barbarian here.”

Tenzin rolled her eyes. “I was simply saying that once a human has reached the drooling stage, it is a valid question whether they should be considered a real human or not.”

Ben just stared at her, shaking his head. “So not cool, Tenzin.”

Giovanni sat in his favorite chair and pulled Beatrice to sit in his lap. “You two bicker more than old married people.”

“Hey! You’re the only old married people I see,” Ben said.

Tenzin curled her lip at Giovanni. “We do not.”

Beatrice shrugged. “Just be nice to Dez and Matt’s baby when it gets here, that’s all I’m asking.”

Dez and Matt had been married the previous week, and the couple was vacationing on one of Ernesto’s yachts before they returned to Los Angeles and accompanied Beatrice, Giovanni, and Ben to Rome. Beatrice had some concern about her friend traveling so early in her pregnancy, but Dez seemed nonchalant about the matter, so she was trying not to worry.

“Is Tenzin coming on the plane with us?”

“No,” Tenzin said firmly. “I will meet you all within the week, but you will not get me on that flying contraption again. It’s unnatural.”

“Who’s coming on the plane, then?”

Giovanni leaned back and closed his eyes. “Desiree, Kirby, and the three of us. Carwyn will meet us there.”

“Cool,” Ben said as he stood. “I’m going to bed.”

“Good, it’s late.”

Tenzin piped up from the couch, “We are watching movies tomorrow night.”

Beatrice asked, “What are we watching?”

“We’re going to Rome.” Ben shrugged. “
Gladiator
.
Spartacus
.”

“
Ben Hur. Cleopatra
,” Tenzin said.

Beatrice grinned. “
Roman Holiday
?”

“
The Life of Brian
?” Giovanni suggested.

“No,” Tenzin and Ben said together.

Beatrice said, “You two are so predictable.” She leaned back and laid her head on Giovanni’s shoulder. She felt his hand comb through her hair, and she closed her eyes, content and sated in her lover’s arms. Soon, Ben walked up to bed, and Tenzin retreated to the den with the television.

“Everything’s going to be okay in Rome, right?”

“Yes. Whatever happens, we will handle it.”

Beatrice still had the sneaking suspicion that their trip to the Eternal City was going to be far more interesting than Giovanni predicted, but she kept silent. They had to go, and they might find out more about her father’s informant when they were there. Stephen De Novo had received too much valuable and accurate information on his hunt for Geber’s elixir of life for it to be merely coincidence. The ancient city held secrets, and hopefully, a few answers as well.

For almost a year, she had been studying Geber’s journals and jotting down characteristics the alchemist had noted from his immortal “donors” when she found them. With enough time, and with Giovanni’s knowledge of the intricate immortal court in Rome, Beatrice might have a chance of identifying the original four vampires who had contributed to the elixir. If they could find those four, then they were one step closer to understanding the mystery, and just maybe, they would be a step ahead of Lorenzo.

She felt Giovanni’s skin heat up, and he began to nose against her neck.

“More?” she murmured.

“More.”

Chapter Four

Crotone, Italy

1494

Jacopo was starving.

He pulled himself up from the thin pallet on the floor and crawled to the door where a jar of water stood. He had eaten the four thin wafers that had been slipped under the door, but his stomach still growled. The flavorless bread was the only food he had been given in the previous week, though his water had been replenished on a daily basis.

Jacopo reached for the door, pulling on it again before he paced the room. Just then, a timid knock sounded. A few moments later, he heard the key turn, and the door cracked open. He saw the edge of a vivid-blue eye in the darkness of the corridor, and then a mop of shining blond hair poked though.

“Hello?” The boy was small, perhaps ten years of age, and he held a large loaf of bread in his hands. He was dressed in clean clothes, costly: the clothing of a servant in a fine house.

“Who are you?” Jacopo crouched in the corner, watching the small boy come closer. His stomach rumbled as the smell of the warm bread wafted toward him.

“It’s morning, so the master is in his chamber,” the boy said. “He won’t come out until nightfall. I brought this for you.”

Still, Jacopo eyed him warily. “Who are you?” he asked again.

“I’m Paulo.” He smiled and held out the bread. “Master told the servants not to feed you, that you had to steal food for yourself, but no one had seen you, so I thought you might be sick.”

Bits of information clicked into place. The week before, Andros had come to him and told Jacopo that he was strong enough to start his training.
You need to be taught self-reliance,
Andros had said with a strange glint in his eye. The next morning, there was water when he woke, but no food.

Jacopo frowned at the boy and ignored the gnawing in his stomach. “He wants me to steal food from him?”

Paulo nodded. “I heard him telling the cook. He told her if she found food missing, not to be alarmed, that he wanted you to learn how to escape your room and steal it.”

“Crazy old man,” Jacopo muttered. “Fine, he wants me to steal; I’ll steal from him. And I will learn how to escape this wretched chamber, as well.” Though he hadn’t been forced to steal since his uncle had adopted him, he had once been adept at picking locks. If Andros wanted Jacopo to escape his room, it wouldn’t be a problem.

“So”—Paulo held out the bread—“do you want it? I brought it for you.”

Jacopo looked at the seemingly innocent boy with the wide, blue gaze. Why would he bring him bread and risk the anger of the master of the house? Was this boy a spy of some sort? Would Jacopo receive a beating for taking the bread from him? Perhaps it was a test.

“I want nothing from you,” Jacopo said. “Why do you bring me bread when Andros wants me to steal it? Do you run to him and tell him of my weakness later?”

As soon as he said it, Jacopo knew it had not been the boy’s intention. Paulo’s face fell, and a hard mask slipped over his previously open features. Jacopo regretted that he had rebuffed the boy’s kindness, but he had no desire to attract the wrath of Niccolo Andros by defying him.

The boy straightened his shoulders. “I brought it to tempt you,” Paulo said with false bravado. “It’s only a shame you can’t taste it for yourself.” The blond boy took a large bite from the fragrant loaf, and Jacopo could smell the herbs the cook had used in the bread. His mouth watered.

He leapt up, pouncing on the boy and knocking him to the ground. Jacopo slapped his face and grabbed the loaf from his hands. Paulo’s eyes watered, but he twisted his mouth into a sneer as Jacopo tossed the bread to the corner.

“Go. Tell the cook I stole your bread and beat you. She will not blame you for the loss.” He stood and held out a hand to the boy, but Paulo rolled away and stood on his own.

“You’re a filthy animal.” Paulo curled his lip. “I can smell you from here. Signore Andros will surely get rid of you when he smells you through the house.”

“Oh?” Jacopo cocked his head. “Has he brought boys to his home before?” What was this madness Niccolo Andros had planned? Where there other boys like him hidden in this cold, stone castle?

“No,” Paulo said. “Signore Andros is a most cultured and honorable man. When he sees you, I’m sure he will be displeased and send you away.”

Jacopo smirked. “So, I am the only one he ordered the cook not to feed?”

“Yes,” Paulo said with a shrug.

He wandered to the corner and grabbed the bread, tearing off a chunk and stuffing it in his mouth. It was the finest thing he had ever tasted. “So I am the only one he keeps like this? The only... prisoner.”