Building From Ashes (38 page)

He hated Rome. “When did they change the offices?”

“I believe it was ten years ago.”

Ten years? Had it really been that long since he’d had to visit Arturo? The irritating Spaniard was probably grey-headed by now. To most, the office he was visiting was a small one that oversaw some of the more private finances of the papal household. The current
Camerlengo
was an old friend of Carwyn’s; they corresponded regularly. Officially, this was a friendly visit, and the stop by the Cardinal’s administration offices was merely a formality so his assistant could meet with him on some minor matter.

Unofficially, the priest Carwyn was meeting oversaw all “supernatural” members of the church.

Carwyn had no idea how many immortals there were in the world. He’d never really bothered trying to guess. He had even less of an idea how many identified as Catholic, but he imagined it was a fairly large percentage. After all, vampires liked to know what to expect, and few institutions were more predictable than the Roman Catholic Church. But he had no idea what the numbers were. Really, who cared?

Arturo Leon did.

The young priest gave a polite knock, ushered him through the door, then disappeared. Carwyn walked into the office of the assistant-vice-something or other in the office of the
Camerlengo
of the Holy Roman Church. The trim Spaniard rose to greet him behind an immaculate marble-topped desk. He held out a soft, manicured hand, which Carwyn took and considered crushing, just to be contrary. Arturo raised an amused eyebrow at him before he motioned to the seat across from him.

“Thank you for visiting with me before your meeting with the
Camerlengo
. I appreciate your time, Father.”

“And I appreciate dropping the pretenses, Arturo. We both know my meeting here is really with you. I’ll stop by for drinks with Raoul, but you’re the one I really need to speak to.”

The Spaniard had a confident manner and a trustworthy bearing. Salt-and-pepper hair was cut neatly around a pleasant, though not particularly attractive, face. His eyes were hooded in a lazy expression that belied the brilliant mind behind them. No one really spent that much time keeping notes on papal household expenditures. Arturo dealt in far more valuable currency than gold. The priest dealt in information, and no one was better at obtaining it, in Carwyn’s experience.

“Oh?” Arturo said with forced innocence. “Whatever could I help you with, Carwyn? My previous requests for your help obtaining information—”

“I’m not one of your spies, Arturo.”

“Simple requests for information do not constitute spying.”

“Nothing is simple in my world.”

“It’s the same world I live in, Father. I just don’t have fangs.” Carwyn glared at Arturo until the formal mask dropped. “Fine,” the Vatican official said. “You’re leaving the church. Am I supposed to be surprised now?”

Carwyn forced his face to remain blank. “I am.” The Spanish priest remained silent until Carwyn spoke again. “How did you—?”

“The signs have been there for years, Welshman.” Arturo just sounded bored. “You had become peripherally involved with too many other things. Which is understandable, but not conducive to active church ministry. Further, I believe that certain conflicts of interest have arisen between your duties as head of a large immortal clan and your vows to the church.” The priest’s eyes flickered with interest. “Your… actions in France regarding the death of two young men—”

“The two vampires who murdered my child?” Carwyn bit out. “Those two?”

Arturo gave Carwyn a lazy shrug. “Do you think I was condemning your actions? I know nothing for certain, only rumors.” Arturo leaned forward with a predatory stare. “After all, I highly doubt a priest of your age and faith would have given a boy absolution, then stood by while he was executed. Not when you could have stopped it.” The lazy black eyes glittered with interest. “After all, you know the Church’s position on capital punishment.”

A position untenable in the immortal world. “Of course I do.”

“I am merely mentioning this because it is not without precedent that an immortal priest of your age and position has conflicting interests. Interests that might keep him from being completely loyal to the Church. Leaving at this point may be the wisest course. For you.”

Carwyn examined the man across from him. Arturo was angling for something. Normally, a priest abandoning his vows was a matter met with counsel. Prayers were offered and received. Carwyn had expected to face weeks of careful and concerned faces who would try to dissuade him from leaving his calling.

So why did he get the distinct impression that he shouldn’t let the door hit him on the way out?

Still…

Carwyn smoothed a hand over the formal clothes he’d put on for the meeting. “After a thousand years of service to the Church, I find that my responsibilities to my family and clan have begun to take away from my duties to my parish. It is for that reason that I desire release from my vows to the church.”

“And is that your only reason? The responsibilities to your family?”

“Why do you ask?”

Arturo reached into his desk, removed a thin file, and opened it, spreading his hands over the contents. “Tell me about Brigid Connor.”

Carwyn was silent. He should have known that others would find out about his interest. He hadn’t exactly been subtle about it. Still, it was none of Arturo’s business, as far as he was concerned. “She’s a new member of my clan. Recently turned.”

“She’s a confirmed member of the church.”

“And still practices, as far as I am aware. She was raised in the church and sees no conflict between her immortal state and her faith.”

“She’s a fire vampire. Very valuable, isn’t she? And under your aegis?”

He felt a twitch in his eye. “She is under my daughter’s aegis. She and Brigid were friends in her human life.”

Arturo paged through the file. “Vampire ‘families’ can be quite complicated, can’t they?”

“I suppose so.”

“Based on so much more than biology. It’s fascinating, really.”

Now Carwyn was just getting annoyed. “Get to the point, Arturo.”

“Your feelings for Brigid Connor have nothing to do with your desire to leave the church?”

Carwyn could feel the anger building. “Who told you about her?” Murphy had close ties to the bishop in Dublin. Was this his doing?

Arturo leaned back in his chair, examining him as if he were some interesting specimen under a microscope. “I have my sources, Carwyn ap Bryn. Are you refusing to answer the question I asked you?”

“I want to know what business it is of yours.”

“She’s a member of the church. That makes it my business.”

“You take such an interest in every Catholic? How noble.”

“What is your relationship with her?”

“So you can use it against me? Or her?” He shook his head. “She’s none of your concern. See to your spies, Arturo. Leave Brigid Connor alone. She’s not a pawn for you to use.”

A single hand slammed down on the marble desk and the Spaniard leaned forward. “I want to know because she is a child of God, who has—according to all reports—led a very difficult life. I’m asking, Carwyn, because as powerful as she is, she’s also vulnerable.”

Carwyn blinked. “You mean… you’re actually concerned about her? Not the political implications of this or her possible use to your network?”

Arturo glared. “I’m not a complete monster. Her sire is your own child and holds no authority over you. Therefore, there is no one in the immortal world who can interfere should you try to take advantage of her.”

Carwyn bared his fangs. “You think I would try to—”

“What are your intentions toward the young woman, Carwyn?” Arturo’s nostrils flared. It was more reaction from the human than Carwyn had seen all night. “Her sire cannot ask, but I can. Your interest has been noted by more than me.
What do you intend?
”

“I intend to marry her, you infuriating dolt!”

Arturo’s shoulders relaxed and he sat back in his chair. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

His fangs were still long, so he muttered around them. “It’s none of your business.”

“Technically, it is.” He closed the file and slipped it into his desk drawer. “I knew there was more than just family obligations. Calm down. Do you think you’re the first priest to leave the church for love?” Arturo rolled his eyes and took out other papers, shuffling them around the desk in an efficient manner. “Frankly, I’m amazed you’ve stuck around this long.”

“This church is my home.” He spoke softly, finally calming from his previous rage. “It has been my calling and purpose for longer than you can imagine. It’s not a decision I came to without prayer and deliberation.”

“I believe you.” Arturo had relaxed into his seat. “The other reason I ask is, while the request for laicization is somewhat routine, a release from your vow of celibacy—which I’m assuming a married man would want—needs to be approved by the Holy Father. That, my friend, is why it is my business.”

“Not trying to convince me to stay?”

“Could I?” He looked amused. “I’m not going to fight you on this Carwyn.” A kind light finally shone through the human’s dark eyes. “You have been a faithful—if not entirely obedient—servant of the Church for over a thousand years. I would be happy if you stayed, but I’m not going to sabotage myself by hindering you.” Just like that, the kindness disappeared and the calculation returned. “Let me get these papers approved. Then, we’ll meet again. The last thing I want is to sever our relationship. I think both of us could benefit from… mutual cooperation in these complicated times.”

Rome

June 2012

“Thank you, Emil.”

“Giovanni is not in any danger until Livia has felt out the city. She’s insecure right now, has poured millions of Euros into something she’s pinning her hopes on.”

“Oh?” Was it this elixir that everyone kept mentioning? The vampire empress of Rome certainly had the means, but what was her motivation? Purely financial?

“Taking your friend prisoner was not a smart move, Carwyn. We both know it. It leaves her looking rash and unstable. Not to mention that Giovanni’s wife has built quite a reputation.”

“She’s earned it.” He saw Beatrice enter the library, still hollow-eyed from the shock of Giovanni’s arrest.

They had stumbled into a viper’s nest in Rome. What was supposed to be an information gathering trip had turned into open confrontation. Lorenzo had appeared. Giovanni had been arrested. And it was all over a book.

But not really. He was positive the elixir the book contained the formula for was the reason for the escalating violence in Ireland. He had a feeling that this was a far bigger problem than even Giovanni or Beatrice realized. And if they thought that finding it and destroying the secret formula was going to work, they were delusional. Carwyn was well acquainted with secrets. He’d held them for a thousand years. Big secrets and little ones, he heard them all. And secrets had a tendency to wiggle their way out of the shadows until they were the center of attention.

“I’ll talk to you later, Emil.”

“I’ll call when I have more information.”

Carwyn walked over to Beatrice, sat down next to her, and put an arm around her shoulders. “Do you remember that night on the beach years ago? Right after you had moved to L.A.?”

“Yeah.” Her voice was hoarse.

“We were watching fireworks, and you cringed every time the waves crashed.”

“I remember.”

“And now you could control the ocean itself.” He felt her tense up and pulled her closer. “That problem seemed huge then. But now, as an immortal, water is your ally.”

She sighed and put her head on his shoulder. “What are you trying to say?”

What
was
he trying to say? He looked at Beatrice’s dark hair and couldn’t help but think of Brigid. The two women looked nothing alike, but they were still two of the strongest young vampires he’d ever met. And both had overcome so many challenges.

Carwyn said, “The things that seem insurmountable in the moment have a way of working themselves out.”

“Like false imprisonment?”

He snorted. “Yes. And crazed Roman she-devils.”

“Missing manuscripts.”

“Thousand-year-old commitments that you struggle to let go.”

She jolted up. “What?”

“Nothing. Tell me more about this elixir.”

Beatrice narrowed her eyes at him, but launched into an explanation of the alchemic formula developed in the Middle East in the ninth century. It had been developed by the alchemist, Geber, who was trying to find a way for humans to ingest vampire blood. The formula was supposed to allow humans to heal the same way vampires could. It was intended for healing. To prolong life. But it had other, perhaps unintended, effects, as well.

He turned when he heard a stumbling in the hall. Lucien Thrax walked into the library, almost turning over a Chinese vase that stood near the door.

“Careful now, Doctor. You know how our friend gets about his pretties.”

That provoked a small, amused sound from Beatrice, and Lucien smiled as he walked toward them. Lucien had been one of his son’s dearest friends. A kindred spirit who had roamed the world, searching for better ways to heal humanity. But the vampire had also drunk from an old lover who had taken an early form of Lorenzo’s elixir and was experiencing strange symptoms.

“How is everyone this evening? Any news about Giovanni?”

“Emil is still poking around. He’ll be a good ally for you to cultivate, B.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Lucien, how are you feeling tonight?”

Carwyn motioned to the chairs in front of the fireplace. Something about Ioan’s old friend was off. He had to sleep far more than what was normal for an earth vampire of his age. Lucien lowered his lanky body onto a chair and pushed back his shaggy brown hair.

“I am still unwell,” he said. “Which is very strange when I have been living for as many years as I have.”

“Any word from your sire?” Carwyn asked. Lucien’s sire, Saba, was the oldest vampire Carwyn had ever heard of. An ancient woman from the Ethiopian highlands, she was also a renowned healer. All earth vampires could probably trace their roots to Saba. Perhaps all vampires could. If anyone could understand the mysterious “Elixir of Life,” it would probably be her.