“Gio,” she finally murmured as he buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent and holding her as his heartbeat slowed. “You came for me.”
“I will always come for you. I love you,” he murmured as he nuzzled his face into her neck, covering her in his scent before the smell of blood and Lorenzo hit him.
“What did he do?” he hissed and brushed back her hair searching for the source of the blood. He saw a small wound that looked like a piercing on her earlobe, and he looked at her. “Did he hurt you, Beatrice?”
She took a deep breath and lifted a hand to his hair, soothing him with her touch. “Just that. He bit my ear, but that’s all. Other than that, it was just mind games again.”
“If there was only a way to kill him more than once,” he muttered as he pierced his tongue again and sucked her earlobe into his mouth to clean and heal the small wound.
He held her for a few more minutes until he heard Terry walk over.
“Nicely done, B. Gio, you hurt?”
“Nothing serious. The vampires?”
“Gemma killed two. Carwyn and I grabbed the others so we could question them.”
“And the humans?” Beatrice asked.
“Most of them are dead. A few surrendered willingly, and Carwyn sent them up to Jean’s men.”
“I need to heal myself,” Giovanni said as he pushed away from Beatrice. “Terry, you and Gemma take the vampires up to the deck and wait for me there. Beatrice, go to Carwyn.” He could sense the earth vampire hovering nearby.
Terry nodded and crossed the hold, grabbing the other vampire that Gemma held before they walked out. Carwyn walked over to the corner.
Beatrice just stared at his bleeding chest. “How do you heal yourself?”
“Stand back,” he said as he turned and nodded toward Carwyn, who reached out his hand to Beatrice and drew her away toward the far side of the hold.
“How do you heal yourself?” she asked again.
“I need to let it take me, Father. Keep her away.”
“You’re going to set yourself on fire?” Beatrice was starting to sound panicked.
“Darling girl,” Carwyn soothed her. “Come stand with me. Did you get shot, Gio? You’re getting slow in your old age.”
He closed his eyes, trying to focus on something other than the pain in his chest. “Keep her away. Maybe you should both go up on deck.”
“No,” they said together.
“I won’t leave you,” she said.
Giovanni thought about the resolute look in her eyes as she watched him drain the human and nodded before he stepped to the far corner of the empty compartment. He stood motionless and lowered his head, taking deep breaths before he allowed the static electricity to start snapping along his skin. After a moment, he began pacing, keeping one eye near the door where Carwyn and Beatrice stood. They were at least ten meters away, but he was still cautious, which was, no doubt, part of Carwyn’s plan in keeping them close by.
He flexed his arms and curled his shoulders in, focusing his energy to run along his skin and push outward as he felt the flames begin to lick along his chest and arms. He could feel himself start to walk the thin edge between control and chaos. The last of his clothes burned away, and he stood naked as the blue fire covered his body.
As Giovanni’s energy grew and the flames rose, he could feel his chest ache and start to knit together. He glanced up to see Carwyn holding onto Beatrice with an iron grip. He turned and faced her, focusing on her dark eyes as he stood motionless and let the fire wash his injuries away.
He heard the hiss as his hair singed, and the acrid scent drifted to his nose. He kept himself focused on the sour smell of burning hair to counteract the heady sensation of power that threatened to overwhelm him. The blood rushed through his body and his heart raced, but the higher the flames grew, the stronger he became.
His power peaked, and Giovanni could feel his chest muscles stretch and smooth out. He flexed them, feeling only an edge of pain. He continued to stare at Beatrice as he let the fire fall back and finally dissipate into the cold salt air.
He gave a quiet grunt and fell to his knees as they rushed over. Beatrice put her arms around him, flinching from the heat that still radiated off his skin, but she only pulled him closer and rocked him as her hands tangled in his singed hair.
“That was…” She sniffed. “It was-”
“Cracking as always, Gio,” Carwyn said with a laugh. “By God, you’ll manage to kill me someday, but that’s absolutely brilliant.”
Giovanni sighed and slumped against Beatrice, burying his face in the cool skin at her throat and wrapping his arms around her waist.
“I hate getting shot.”
Chapter Nineteen
English Channel
March 2010
“Just the two left?”
“We were lucky to save those before Gemma got her hands on them.”
“And no trace of my son?”
“No, but he left his lackeys here. And he must have known we would take them.”
“Interesting and deliberate.”
Giovanni and Carwyn were walking up the stairs, Giovanni growing stronger with every step. He wanted to feed again, but didn’t want to weaken Beatrice more by asking. She was still limping, and her bruises were more vivid. It irritated him that he could do nothing more to heal her. She had been handling herself extraordinarily well, but he could tell she was starting to crash.
“Tesoro,” he said as he slipped a hand around her shoulders while clutching the blanket wrapped around his waist. “Will you stay with Jean’s men on the top deck while we question them? I’m sure you could handle it, but-”
“I’m okay with skipping the torture part, thanks.”
He nodded, relieved she had not insisted on being present for what would be, no doubt, a brutal interrogation.
As they walked through the melted door and onto the open deck, he saw Jean’s men securing what was left of the crew, and Gemma held two battered, young vampires by the throat. Terry tossed him a pair of black pants he found somewhere, and Giovanni turned to Beatrice as he saw the three vampires walk away with the captives.
He leaned down and kissed her. “I’ll be back soon.”
She threw her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, “Don’t be too long. There are things to say.”
He nodded and gave her one more lingering kiss before he walked away.
The injured vampires were obviously disposable; Giovanni wondered why Lorenzo had even left them on the ship. They dragged them to the rear deck among the maze of containers the freighter carried.
“No one else?” he asked as he slipped on the borrowed pants.
Terry and Carwyn shook their heads.
“Jean’s men searched all the containers,” Gemma said, pounding on one that echoed in the dark. “Nothing. Not even a drained human or a bit of clothing.”
“Cazzo,” he muttered and turned his attention back to the vampires at Gemma’s feet. “Why did he leave you?”
“Are you the master’s father?” One croaked and took a deep breath of the salt air. Giovanni suspected they were both water vampires, turned by Lorenzo to replace the personal army he and Tenzin had destroyed in Greece. Both looked to be in their early twenties. One had an American accent, and the other sounded Irish.
Giovanni knelt down and braced one arm on his knee. “I am Lorenzo’s sire.”
“We have a message for you,” the American said.
“Thought you might.” He let the blue flames flare on his torso as the young vampires watched. The American, a young blond man with brown eyes and an innocent face, looked at Giovanni as if he had never seen anything more terrifying. The other wore a placid expression, and his hard, blue eyes did not flinch. “Well?”
It was the Irishman who spoke up. “Lorenzo says he will burn your books, take your woman, turn your child, and one day, you will call him master…and you will love him.”