The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (50 page)

She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye.
 
“It took a while to narrow down the island.
 
And then…it’s kind of complicated.
 
You should probably ask Gio.”
 

She ignored his last statement.
 
“How long has it been?
 
I don’t even know.”
 

“Six weeks.”
 

She took a deep breath and frowned, trying to remember what day that would make it.
 

“It’s the last day of July.”
 

“Right.”
 
She nodded.
 
“Right.
 
Is my grandma okay?
 
Does she know what happened?”

“Isadora and Caspar are fine.
 
Worried about you, but fine.
 
Gio told them you had been taken, and—”

“But, I wasn’t taken.”

“What?”

She turned to him with hollow eyes.
 
“I wasn’t taken, Carwyn, I was traded.”
 

His face fell.
 
“Beatrice, you need to talk to Gio—”

“No, I don’t.”
 
She shook her head.
 
“I appreciate you coming to get me, but let’s not pretend it didn’t happen.
 
Whatever his reasons, he traded me for what he thought was more important.”
 
Her voice was hoarse as she stared into the water, but the set of her shoulders was fixed.
 

“Hey,” he said, leaning forward to try to catch her eyes.
 
“I know you’re resentful, and I understand why, but you need to listen to me.”
 

She dragged her gaze to his, and she was reminded how ancient Carwyn ap Bryn was behind his boyish charm.
 
His blue eyes bored into hers, and his voice was low and even.
 

“Whatever you may be feeling right now, you need to remember this: No one goes to war for a pawn.”
 

Tears spilled down her cheeks and she looked away.
 
She saw him shake his head from the corner of her eye.
 

“You don’t know…he’s been
wrecked
with worry for you.
 
The worst I’ve seen in three hundred years.
 
Please believe that.”
 

She choked out, “I’m not saying you would lie to me—”
 

“I’d never—” he cleared his throat, “never lie to you.”
 
He paused.
 
“But he would.
 
Gio would.”
 
He ducked his head down and forced her to meet his eyes.
 
“If he thought it was necessary.
 
If he thought it would keep you safe, I think he’d lie to Saint Peter himself.”
 

It was too much.
 
She shook her head, exhaustion beginning to creep up on her.

“I don’t understand, Carwyn.
 
And I don’t want to talk about this…or about him.”
 

His eyes were pinched with worry.
 
“Don’t you love him, B?”

The echo of the crashing waves tore at her.
 
“Not anymore.”

Carwyn said nothing, sitting next to her as she stared at the small boat in the distance.
 
Soon, she heard the whisper of voices in the wind, and she braced herself.
 

Tenzin and Giovanni dropped to the beach and he stepped toward her, his eyes guarded when she lifted her gaze.
 
She squinted, barely recognizing him.
 
The forbidding soldier in front of her, wearing charred black cargo pants and slick healing burns across his chest, bore little resemblance to the polite academic who had charmed her in the university library.
 
His hair was shaved close to his skull and his eyes were wary.
 
Beatrice thought he looked like one of the busts of the Roman generals she had seen in museums.
 
He looked as if he had just come back from a war.
 

“No one goes to war for a pawn.”
 

He stood in front of her, waiting for a few moments before his composure cracked and he pulled her up and embraced her, clasping her to his chest as he buried his face in her neck and inhaled.
 
His arms wrapped around her in an almost vice-like grip, and one hand cradled the back of her head.
 

Tears filled her eyes, but part of her wanted to grab onto him, and the other part wanted to strike him, so she stood confused and motionless in the circle of his arms.
 

He lingered for a few moments, but could not have missed the fact that she did not return his embrace.
 
He took a step back, smoothing her limp hair from her face, brushing at the tears on her cheeks, and inspecting her from head to toe as Beatrice stared at the slowly healing burns on his chest.
 

“No problems getting here, Gio.
 
Everything according to plan,” she heard Carwyn murmur.
 

Giovanni nodded, his eyes never leaving her, and motioned to the small woman behind him.
 
“Beatrice, this is Tenzin.
 
She will fly you out to the boat; Carwyn and I will swim to meet you.
 
Will that be acceptable?” he asked gently.
 

Beatrice glanced at the small woman, who really looked more like a girl.
 
Tenzin had a friendly smile and curling fangs showing behind her lips.
 
She glanced over her shoulder at Carwyn, who nodded reassuringly, so she held out her hand.
 

“Hi, I’m B.”
 

“It’s good to meet you.
 
I’ve heard a lot about you.”
 
Tenzin grasped her hand, and Beatrice noted the delicate, cool flesh, just slightly warmer than Lorenzo’s hands.

“You too.
 
Thanks for helping get me out.”
 

“My pleasure.”
 
Tenzin grinned, and Beatrice couldn’t ignore the blood stains that caked the front of the small woman’s shirt.
 
Tenzin caught her looking, but only gave a shrug.

Beatrice blinked and looked across the ocean.
 
“You can carry me to the boat?”

“Just hold my hand, the wind will carry us.”
 

A small smile flickered across Beatrice’s face.
 
“Really?”

“Really.”
 
Tenzin nodded.
 
“Let’s get out of here.
 
It’s damp.”
 

Beatrice nodded and looked for Carwyn, but her eyes were caught by Giovanni’s penetrating gaze.
 

He was standing at attention, staring at her, his arms behind his back and his shoulders square.
 
She had the sudden disarming impression that he was hers to command, and an unreadable expression filled his green eyes.

“Whenever you are ready, Beatrice.”
 

Turning back to Tenzin, she held out her hand.
 

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Over the Atlantic

July 2004

Giovanni watched as she slept, taking advantage of the last moments of calm before he knew she would wake, furious and argumentative.
 

He glanced around the plush compartment of the plane he had taken from Lorenzo.
 
The weeks he had spent in Rome manipulating the ancient vampires of Livia’s court, and the necessary maneuvers in Athens might have been maddening, but ultimately they had netted him exactly what he wanted, with a few unexpected extras thrown in.
 

He shifted closer to her, worried she would wake and relive her captivity with the madman he had sired.
 
She had refused to speak to him for the most part, communicating mainly through Carwyn and Tenzin.
 
To say it had not bothered him would have been inaccurate, though he knew it was to be expected after his perceived betrayal.
 

He lifted a hand, stroking her brown hair in a gesture he knew she wouldn’t allow if she was awake.
 
He hadn’t had a chance to hunt before they left Greece, but he leaned closer anyway, drawing in her welcome scent despite the growing burn in his throat.
 

He dreaded her fury when she woke and discovered she was not back in Houston.
 
She had screamed at him, refusing to board the plane when she discovered it wasn’t going back to the United States.

“I want to go home.
 
I don’t want to talk to my grandmother on the phone, I want to see her.
 
I want to go home.”
 

“Beatrice, we need to get you somewhere safe until we can make sure—”

“You’re still holding me captive, you bastard!
 
You can go to hell, for all I care, but I want to go home.
 
Take me home!”

Her words burned, and he’d almost given in and taken her back to Texas, but Tenzin had walked over, calmly placed a hand on Beatrice’s arm and knocked her out, catching her as she slumped into unconsciousness.
 

Carwyn loaded her on the custom built airplane bound for one of his children’s most remote territories in the south of Chile, where it would be winter and the days would be short.
 
Giovanni had kept a safe house there for over one hundred and fifty years, and no one but the priest and his daughter’s family knew exactly where it was.
 

He felt her begin to stir and stopped stroking her hair, backing away from her but staying within arm’s reach in case she panicked.
 
Tenzin had no clothes that would fit her, so Beatrice was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Giovanni’s black shirts.
 

She woke with a start, reviving from Tenzin’s amnis and sitting up with a choking gasp.
 
She searched the compartment with panicked eyes until they settled on him.
 
He froze, not wanting to startle her, allowing her to take in her surroundings along with his presence.
 
After a few seconds, her eyes narrowed and she flung herself at him, slapping his face and pushing his shoulders.
 

“I hate you!
 
I hate you!
”

He let her release her anger for a few minutes, finally grabbing her hands to halt her punches so she didn’t hurt herself.
 
Though Giovanni had not wept in five hundred years, he felt as if he might when he saw her useless rage and the tears that coursed down her cheeks.
 

“I know,” he whispered.
 

“I want to go home,” she cried.
 
“Why won’t you just take me home?”

She tried to hit him again but couldn’t move as he held her, so she twisted away and threw herself on the opposite couch, glaring at him.
 
He took a deep breath.
 

“It’s not safe.”
 

“You don’t know that, asshole.
 
And I can’t believe you used your mind voodoo on me on top of everything else.”
 

“That was Tenzin.”
 

“Then I’m pissed off at her, too.”
 

She fell silent, staring at a chair in the back of the compartment where he had noticed Lorenzo’s smell was particularly strong.
 

“What did he do to you?”

“What do you care?”

He rushed over to kneel in front of her at vampire speed, ducking down and forcing her to meet his eyes.
 

“What do I care?
 
I have spent the last six weeks doing nothing but trying to get you back, Beatrice.
 
I spent weeks narrowing down where Lorenzo was keeping you.
 
Then I spent weeks in Rome and Athens negotiating to make sure you weren’t going to be caught in a war when I got you away from him.
 
I called on centuries of alliances and personal debts so his allies would not try to take you back or retaliate against Carwyn, Tenzin, and all their families and allies for helping me.”
 

He sat back on his heels, his eyes locked with hers as he began to see cracks in her angry shell.
 

“Be angry with me, Beatrice.
 
Rail at me and slap me,” he said more softly.
 
“Feel betrayed if you want to, but don’t ask me if I care.
 
And
don’t
ask me to take you someplace where I cannot assure your safety while you recover.”
 

She looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes.
 
They sat in silence for the rest of the flight over the Atlantic, and Giovanni began to feel drowsy as the pull of day dragged him toward sleep.