The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (170 page)

He heard a rustling sound in the hall, then the goons started to block the door.

“Get away from me. I’m with them, you idiots.”

It was Tenzin. He walked to the door and put a hand up on one of the guard’s broad shoulders.

“It’s okay, guys. She’s with us.”

They parted to let her pass, and Tenzin stomped in the room.

“Idiots.”

“Calm down. They’re just guarding Dez. That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

She looked around with narrowed eyes. “I’ve never been in a hospital before.”

“What, never?”

“No.”

Tenzin walked over to the sleeping Dez and put her hand on her forehead. Then she pushed back the blanket that covered her and laid her ear against Dez’s belly, dislodging some of the monitors. Ben rushed over.

“Hey! Tenzin, that’s—”

“Shhh.” She put both hands on Dez’s belly and held them there for a minute, listening to whatever mysterious sounds the baby was making. Then she straightened and pulled the blanket up.

“I’ll let the healers put the electrical equipment back. She’s going to be fine. The baby sounds active and her heart is good. Does she have any cuts that need healing?”

“No. Matt said… well, she has to be here for a while, so it’s probably not a good idea to heal anything they would really notice. None of her cuts were major. Just scrapes from the street and stuff.” He fell silent and went back to his chair beside Dez. Tenzin pulled a chair over and sat next to him.

She said, “I went to the alley.”

Ben couldn’t say anything. The police had told him. They’d told him he’d killed a man. In his heart, he’d known it the second the knife plunged in the man’s belly. He’d meant to kill him, and he knew exactly what he was aiming for.

“I tracked the other man who attacked you both. It’s been taken care of.”

He nodded. Was he a bad person for being relieved that Tenzin had finished off the other man instead of him? He felt frozen. He didn’t know how to feel. He shouldn’t have taken them into that alley. He shouldn’t have done a lot of things. Dez might not have known better, but he should have. He stared at the monitors above Dez’s head.

Tenzin’s voice was uncharacteristically soft when she finally spoke. “Was this the first?”

The first person he’d ever killed? Ben nodded.

He was familiar with violence. It had been a constant, lurking shadow his whole life. Ben had seen a lot. He’d watched a man kick another to death and leave him broken in an alley. He’d seen a gloating man stabbed, his blood spilling out in the mud as the money was stolen from his body by greedy hands. But Ben had never killed anyone.

“Ben?”

He whispered, “Yeah?”

“Was the man attacking Dez?”

He nodded.

“Was he hurting the baby?”

“He…” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “He was kicking her. He had to see she was pregnant. Her shirt was up, and her belly… He couldn’t have—”

“You were defending Dez. You were protecting the baby.”

He blinked back the tears, but they fell down his face anyway.

Tenzin slipped her hand in his, and Ben gripped her small fingers.

“You did well, Benjamin. You did right.”

Ben held on to Tenzin’s hand, and the two sat in silence as Dez slept under their watch.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Svaneti, Republic of Georgia

November 2012

Giovanni decided that the home of Arosh—which could only be described as a palace—was an odd, but not uncomfortable combination of museum and harem. Silks and tapestries hung from the windowless walls. The rooms were lit by golden oil lamps and heated by glowing braziers. The rooms they had been shown to when they arrived were equipped with luxurious baths and opulent furnishings. The only electricity in the palace seemed to be in the bedrooms, a nod to the humans who occupied most of the rooms.

And by humans, Giovanni meant women. Dozens of them. Hundreds, possibly. Women of every age, shape, and color ran laughing through the house. They cooked Giovanni and Carwyn rich meals and offered their willing wrists for the vampires to drink. They tended the house and the gardens. They read books in the vast library. Many were beautiful, but not all. Some bore the scars of past abuse or injury, but all seemed content. Most appeared to be between seventeen and forty, but a few older women passed them in the halls, as well.

And one woman, a regal beauty named Zarine, ruled the house.

Her accent was Armenian. Her long, black hair curled down her back and her brown eyes were warm and wise. She appeared to be in her fifties or sixties, and she was fiercely protective of her master.

“Doctor Vecchio, are you sure that you will not take sustenance from one of the girls? You have been here for several weeks now. Arosh would be most disappointed that you have not fed properly.”

He leaned forward on the silk-wrapped chaise. “And where is our host this evening, if I may ask?”

Zarine’s eyes lit with amusement. “He is… occupied this evening.”

“He is occupied
every
evening.”

“He does not deprive himself. It is not his nature.”

Giovanni bit his tongue and glanced at Carwyn, who was sipping wine and frowning at a group of passing women.

As soon as they had arrived at the house, Carwyn had given Arosh the letter from Ziri. The ancient fire vampire had taken it, glanced at the unbroken seal, then promptly disappeared into the palace with a dozen girls.

They hadn’t seen him since.

Giovanni and Carwyn had been fed and watered. They had been given luxurious rooms and a tour of the house, which was filled to the brim with ancient treasures from all over the world. Arosh was a collector of all sorts of beautiful things. Art and women just seemed to top the list. There were also many treasures that looked Greek or Minoan in origin, but there was no sign of Kato, the fabled water vampire.

“Zarine, I do not wish to seem ungrateful—”

“Then don’t. You are being given the finest hospitality of my master’s home. It would be most unfortunate if you were not satisfied with that.”

Though her voice and pleasant expression never wavered, he could see the glint of steel in her eyes. Zarine, as much as the silent wind vampire, Samson, was Arosh’s most fervent and devoted security.

Carwyn spoke up. “Zarine?”

She turned toward the friendly vampire. “Yes, Carwyn?”

“All the women here… they
do
come willingly, do they not?”

She smiled. “And leave when they wish to. Samson simply alters their memories depending on where they want to go. He’s very gifted in that trait. Most are placed with one of my associates in the city if they want to work. Some desire husbands and families. They all receive what they wish. If they wish to leave.”

“But many don’t.”

She shrugged. “These girls… most of them did not have good lives before they came here. Here, they are my master’s treasures. His ‘jewels.’” She turned as Samson swept silently through the room and toward the front door.

The wind vampire was an enigma. He never spoke, and the Eastern European man had wild, grey eyes. He had been sired young, but his head was covered by an alarming shock of pure silver hair. Arosh called him his child, Zarine looked at him with affection, but the vampire moved through the house like a ghost.

Samson stopped for a moment when a younger girl caught the edge of his cloak. She pulled him down and whispered in his ear. The bruises on her face were still healing and one arm was set in a brace. She had appeared in the house the week before and been enfolded by the women of Arosh’s palace. The wounded girl placed a soft kiss on the vampire’s pale cheek. Samson gave the girl a slight nod before he disappeared into the black night without a word.

Zarine turned back to her guests with a smile. “As you can see, the girls are not mistreated here. Though, I appreciate your concern.”

The earth vampire only shrugged. “I have daughters of my own.”

Giovanni broke in. “Why doesn’t he speak?”

“Samson?”

He nodded.

“I do not know. He never has in all the time I’ve been here. He has a tongue.” Her eyes danced in amusement. “Of that, I’m quite positive. But I’ve never heard him speak.”

“And what about your master?” asked Carwyn. “Should we expect to see him soon? My friend here is trying to be polite, but that’s never been an affliction of mine. I cannot complain about your hospitality, but we really do need to speak with him.”

Zarine’s eyes softened. “I understand your impatience. Truly. And I know that you have traveled a long way, but Arosh is a king.” She shrugged. “He comes and goes as he pleases and currently, he is enjoying the pleasures of his women. He may not appear for days. Or weeks.”

Giovanni’s eyes widened. “Weeks?”

He tried not to think of his own woman waiting back in Rome. He missed his wife. He missed her teasing voice and her soft touch. He missed waking with her and falling asleep wrapped in her arms. He even missed their arguments. And, he was worried. He couldn’t deny it.

A particularly sweet-smelling girl walked past and his fangs lengthened in his mouth. A low growl built at the back of his throat. Arosh carried no stored blood. Why would he? He had a walking, giggling supply running around his palace. Carwyn’s voice broke through his hungry reverie.

“Gio, I’m going to hunt tonight. I already let Samson know. There are wolves and bears in the mountains around here. Would you join me?”

Unlike Carwyn, Giovanni’s system was not accustomed to subsisting on animal blood alone. He could hunt, but he knew he wouldn’t be as strong from animal blood as he would be from just a few drinks of one of the many willing women who surrounded him.

“I…” He looked toward his friend.

Carwyn looked back with understanding before he rose and patted Giovanni on the shoulder. He leaned down and whispered in Latin, “Drink. Make yourself strong. We both need to be strong. She will understand.”

Giovanni blinked and pushed back his longing for Beatrice. He nodded to a girl who had offered herself to him the day before.

“Fine. Send her to my room.”

Zarine’s lips curled into a smile. “Excellent. I hope you enjoy your time with her.”

“Just feeding, Zarine.”

She shrugged. “The girl will be disappointed, but it is your choice, of course.”

He returned to his room, pushing back the flames that danced at his collar. Giovanni wanted to leave this place. He had been battling aggression from the moment he stepped through the door. Arosh’s distinctive smell was everywhere, and the scent of burning almond wood filled the rooms. He had never been under the roof of another fire vampire. The only males he had ever met, he had killed or avoided as much as possible. Being around another male triggered the worst of his natural aggression and territorial instincts. He had to constantly fight back the fire that wanted to erupt. Perhaps, as much as he disliked it, feeding would help.

The girl tapped at the door and he clenched his fists to control his hunger.

“Enter.”

It was two days later when Arosh finally appeared. He stretched out on a low couch and drew Zarine to his chest, stroking her hair and feeding her an orange he had peeled.

“How has your stay been, my friends?”

Carwyn said, “Clearly not as pleasant as yours.”

Arosh threw his head back and laughed. “You amuse me, holy man! I understand your own odd beliefs, but why has the son of Andreas not taken his pleasure with the beauties of my home? I’m sure Zarine has pointed out those who are acceptable.”

Giovanni forced back the instinctive curl of his lip and banished the memory of the disappointed girl he had fed from. “I am mated, Arosh.”

“And you are faithful?” Arosh’s eyes lit in amusement. “How odd.”

“Not odd. No woman is appealing when compared to my wife.”

Arosh’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he smiled. It was the most sincere smile he had seen from the ancient. “Kato would approve of you. He took a number of mates over the centuries and was always very faithful to them when he did.”

“Where is my grand-sire?”

Arosh ignored the question. “Your sire, however, did not hold others in such esteem. He had little regard for family. He had little regard for anyone but himself.”

“I am aware of this.”

“You would be. Tell me, why did you kill him?”

“Wouldn’t you have? He had plans for me. I’m sure you can imagine.”

“And you wouldn’t have defied him.”

Giovanni said, “I’d like to think I would have, but probably not. Could you have ignored your sire?”

Arosh shrugged. “I do not know. My earliest memory is of a fire-scarred cave. There was no one.”

Carwyn frowned. “What? No one at all?”

“If there was, the fire burned them.” Arosh slipped another piece of orange between Zarine’s lips and ran a finger along her cheek. “That is too long ago to matter. All of my children have been sired to wind, so that must have been my own origin. Perhaps he left me. Perhaps he had no interest in my future. Unlike your sire, Giovanni Vecchio. Am I correct?”