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“What?”

She placed her hands back on his cheeks. “I love you, Jacopo…Giovanni…whatever name you choose in a hundred years…or two hundred. I’ll love you then, too. Ubi amo, ibi patria. Where I love, there is my home. You…” She blinked back tears and gave him a smile. “You are my home.”

Giovanni was speechless, so he crushed her to his chest. He held Beatrice for a few moments before pulling away so he could kiss her. He kissed her over and over again, nipping at soft, swollen lips as his heart pounded. “I love you,” he whispered. “Per sempre. Forever.”

“I love you, too. I never really stopped. I can just admit it now.”

He broke into a low chuckle that turned into a full laugh. He was happy. More. Joyful. She loved him. He kissed her again.

“I really wish we didn’t have an audience right now,” she finally said when they came up for air.

Giovanni tucked her head under his chin. “Someday, woman, I will have you to myself.”

“We need to get away, just us. Soon. But right now…” She hugged him close. “We have a crew to interrogate and strategy to plan. We still need to murder Lorenzo and find my dad, remember?”

“Somehow, you are not any less sexy as you say this, Beatrice,” he said with a smirk. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, let’s go interrogate some Spanish sailors.”

“Darling girl,” Carwyn walked over and embraced her. “Gemma says you disarmed a six foot man. If I promise not to make you watch wrestling anymore, will you promise not to hurt me?”

She punched Carwyn’s side and smiled. “Very funny, old man.”

“That’ll teach you to run from your bodyguard next time you visit,” Terry muttered. “I had to keep your man there from turning the poor sod into a pile of ash last night.”

“I’ll remember. Thanks to you both, by the way,” she said, nodding at Gemma and Terry. “Thanks for beating me up, Gemma. Humans have nothing on you.”

“What do you Americans say? ‘It was a tough job, but someone had to do it?’”

“Right.” Beatrice said and rolled her eyes.

“You should keep that gun, by the way. It’s a nice piece,” Terry said, nodding to the nine millimeter handgun tucked into her waistband. “Your first spoils of war, B.”

“That is a good weapon,” Giovanni’s eyes narrowed. “Why does a Spanish sailor have an H &K?”

“Well, while some of us…” Carwyn waggled his eyebrows at the two of them. “Were snogging on the deck, others were questioning what was left of the crew. None knew anything about your son, of course.”

“It seems like they took Lorenzo and his people on in Rotterdam, but they didn’t really know what they were getting into,” Gemma added. “Lorenzo was directing the captain off his usual route. London was not a scheduled stop, so thank God for Tywyll’s informants, whoever they are.”

“Where does that little bastard get his information?” Terry muttered.

Carwyn shrugged. “From looking at the ship’s records, it looks like they were headed to North Africa. The details are a bit fuzzy, but Lorenzo outfitted the crew with weapons, probably thinking he could use them as fodder if he was threatened.”

Giovanni looked between Carwyn and Terry. “Then why is he not here? What tipped him off?”

“Well.” Terry glanced at the French humans. “It’s more likely ‘Who?’ is the better question.”

Carwyn shook his head. “Apparently, they stopped in La Havre early this morning, just before dawn. Someone on our side or Jean’s must have warned him we were sending a daylight team. There were three containers dropped off and put on trucks. Gemma called Jean. He has people at the port checking where they went, but Lorenzo could have been in any of them.”

“And that explains why the bastard didn’t take Beatrice,” Terry said. “He would never have left himself alone with a human during the day.”

“Damn, now I wish he had taken me,” Beatrice muttered at his side. Giovanni put an arm around her and stroked her arm, more relieved to have her back than angry at the missed opportunity.

He bent down and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll get another chance at him. The most important thing is that you are safe.”

“We’ll have some questions for Jean’s people. And my own, for that matter. Unfortunately, it’s probably the human staff,” Terry said, shrugging. “They’re always the most vulnerable.”

“It could be a vampire,” Giovanni added. “Lorenzo still has resources we don’t know about.”

Gemma piped up, “Anything’s possible. We’ll just have to keep our ears open.”

Carwyn looked over at the group of humans surrounded by Jean’s men. “What should we do with the crew?”

Giovanni looked at Beatrice, who only shrugged. “Let Jean look into them,” he said. “If they were only being used by Lorenzo, I have no quarrel with them, as long as they did not harm Beatrice.”

“All the ones who hurt me are taken care of.”

The five of them looked around the deck, and Giovanni noticed that the sky was already beginning to lighten with a hint of dawn. They needed to return to Terry’s secured boat in the port of Cherbourg.

“Can we go now?” Beatrice asked. “This human is cold and really, really tired.”

Terry motioned toward the zodiac floating nearby, piloted by one of his sons. “Your chariot awaits, ass-kicking librarian.”

“Haha,” she said with a slight blush as she tugged Giovanni in the direction Terry and Gemma were walking. Carwyn walked beside them, looking out toward the sea, and Giovanni wondered whether he was thinking of the two boys who lay at the bottom of the ocean, finally dead after stealing the life of his oldest child.

His friend looked over at him, glancing between him and Beatrice with a bittersweet smile. Carwyn reached a hand over to stroke her hair. “You’re safe, darling girl, you’re safe.”

Chapter Twenty

Cherbourg, France

March 2010

They took refuge an hour before dawn on the secure yacht one of Terry’s lieutenants had brought to Cherbourg harbor for them. When they arrived on deck, they were greeted by a steward that informed them Jean Desmarais was waiting in the saloon, along with two of Terry’s people.

“Beatrice,” Jean said as she stepped through the door of the luxurious room. He rose from the leather couch, setting down a glass of something red. Whether it was blood or wine, she couldn’t tell. “I’m so very relieved you are unharmed. I hope my men were helpful.”

“Yes,” Giovanni said as they walked across the wood paneled saloon. “It appears I am in your debt, Desmarais.”

The keen water vampire cocked an eyebrow. “It was a pleasure to do a favor for a friend.”

“I’m sure it was,” Terry muttered from behind them. “Now, if you could inform us how exactly your old friend managed to hear we were on our way, that’d be greatly appreciated.”

Jean stiffened and his narrowed eyes swept the room. “I do not care for your implication, Monsieur Ramsay.”

“Like it or not,” Carwyn added as he walked in with Gemma. “Lorenzo was taken off that freighter in La Havre. Someone told him we were coming, and he bolted. Who has the closer tie to the little bastard, hmm?”

Jean’s eyes flared, and Giovanni pulled Beatrice closer to his side as the three vampires circled the Frenchman.

“I know nothing of this. I am insulted-”

“Fine,” Carwyn said. “Be insulted. You’ll answer our questions or we’ll know why.”

“Hey, guys,” Beatrice held up her hands. “Let’s calm down. I think we need to-”

“Yes, Jean,” Gemma piped up. “Why exactly were the only vampires on that ship sacrificial lambs that died too quickly for my brother’s death?”