Tesoro.
I rolled it around my mind a few times. That’s pretty good. Nothing else?
He hesitated a moment. Amore.
Ah. My gaze dropped to his mouth. I didn’t need help translating that word. Tempted as I was to use it, I didn’t want to put him in the position that he had to acknowledge that my growing emotions were more or less unrequited. Tesoro it is, then.
I got off his lap and went to visit the bathroom, my body burning for him while my mind yelled at me for wanting something that he couldn’t give.
“Pia?”
Magda’s voice interrupted my trip down memory lane.
“Yes?”
“You haven’t heard a word I said, have you? You looked like you were a million miles away.”
“Sorry. Just wondering if this little jaunt to Germany is going to give the vampires the slip.”
The look she gave me was part exasperation, part affection. “That’s exactly what I was asking you about.”
“You didn’t have to come-” I started to say, feeling guilty once again that their vacation was turning into an endurance bout of globe-hopping.
“Oh, hush, we had that out last night. Since Mattias is now evidently your love puppy, with the emphasis on the ‘puppy,’ then I figured we’d be going to Iceland next.”
“Yes. Except I think Kristoff might want you guys to act as a decoy.”
“Decoy? Oh, to lead the vamps off your trail?”
“Exactly. Although they have to know we’d go to Iceland. Maybe we should talk to Kristoff. I don’t really remember all he said. I was kind of busy flashing light at Mattias.”
“We’ll let Ray have his beauty sleep,” Magda said, getting to her feet. “Let’s confab with the man.”
“Sounds good. It’ll give me a chance to try out the new pet name I have for him.”
“You found one?”
“Yes. It’s Italian,” I said rather smugly. “I haven’t used it yet, but this would be a good opportunity to see how it feels.”
“Italian! How exotic. I should have something like that for Ray.”
I nudged her with my elbow. “You’re Hispanic, silly! Surely there are oodles of Spanish love names.”
“Bah. Spanish isn’t nearly as exotic as Italian is. OK, you’re up. Let’s hear this great endearment.”
“We’ve come to talk game plan . . . er . . . Kristoff.” My sentence trailed away lamely as he lowered the magazine he was reading so I could crawl over his legs to my seat.
Magda sat on the arm of the seat opposite him, shaking her head. “Chicken.”
My shoulders slumped.
Kristoff gave me an odd look. “What is it you are accused of being afraid of?”
“It’s the pet name you gave me. Well, not gave me, but gave me to use for you. I can’t do it. It just doesn’t feel right.”
“Ah,” he said, clearly not bothered in the least.
“Maybe you should forgo exotic and stick to something you’re more comfortable with,” Magda suggested. “Did you try plain old ‘honey’?”
We both looked at Kristoff. He rolled his eyes. “No,” I said at the same time Magda shook her head.
“Agreed. He’s not the ‘honey’ type. How about . . .” She tapped a finger to her chin. “ ‘Angel’?”
“Definitely not,” Kristoff said, going back to his magazine.
“He’s not really an ‘angel’ type, either,” I admitted.
“You may have something. Let’s see . . . ‘sweet pea’?”
“Christ, no,” Kristoff said.
“Hush, you,” I said, concentrating. “ ‘Sugar pie’?”
He shuddered.
“I suppose ‘snuggle bunny’ is out,” Magda said thoughtfully. “ ‘Sugar lips’?”
“Ohh, now that’s not bad-”
Kristoff leveled a glare at me. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Party pooper,” I muttered, flicking his magazine in an annoyed manner. He just grunted and buried himself in it again.
“ ‘Pooh bear’? I had a boyfriend I used to call my cuddly little Pooh bear. He was a dream,” Magda said, sighing happily at the memory. “Then he met a masseuse, and last I heard they have five kids and are really happy. Oh! I know! ‘Poochikins’!”
I looked at Kristoff and giggled. He glared at the magazine. “I don’t think so, Magda, but thanks for the suggestion. I’ll just have to find something else.”
“ ‘Sugarplum’?”
“Nooo,” I said slowly, regretfully setting the name aside.
“ ‘Sweet cheeks’?”
You do, and you’ll live to regret it.
I laughed out loud. “Pass. But I think I thought of something.”
“You did? What?” she asked.
Do I want to know? Kristoff asked at the same time.
“I think I’ll hold off on saying it out loud for a bit,” I told Magda with a smile.
You’ll find out soon enough, Boo .
He looked at me, the oddest expression on his face. Boo?
Magda grinned back at me. “I totally understand. Now, about Iceland.”
I thought it was appropriate. You scared me silly the first time I saw you. Well, not the first time, but right after that. You know, when you tried to strangle me.
Pia, if I wanted to strangle you, you would have been dead, he answered, looking slightly disconcerted.
What’s wrong? You don’t like ‘Boo’? I think it has kind of a nice ring to it. It’s short and snappy, but not overly syrupy or otherwise embarrassing.
No, it’s not too embarrassing, he said hesitantly. I could feel him shielding something from me.
What is it, then? If you don’t want me to use it, I’ll just have to find something else-
I shudder to think what else you will come up with. If you feel the need to use a nickname for me, and you refuse to use Kris, then I suppose I can live with Boo.
“Pia said you might want Ray and me to go somewhere else.”
But you don’t like it?
“Yes. Andreas and Rowan will expect us to try to shake them, but they will also expect us to head to Italy as soon as possible.”
“Why’s that?” she asked.
“There is a group of reapers in Rome.”
“Gotcha.”
Kristoff?
Reluctance filled my mind. I suppose I’ll have to tell you. Before I was changed, my mother called me Bärchen . It’s German for “little bear.” Your name reminded me of that.
I laughed. I’ll never wrap my tongue around German words, so I’ll go with Boo. Besides, it really is appropriate. You can be very scary when you want to be.
“We go to Rome while you guys go to Iceland to pick up the other reaper and Ulfur the friendly ghost,” Magda said. “I’ll tell Ray when he wakes up. He’s always wanted to go to Rome.”
I smiled, the memory of a laughing young man, handsome and rugged, clad in clothing of more than a hundred years ago, rising to my mind.
“If his damned horse tries to eat my jacket again, there will be hell to pay,” Kristoff said, turning the page of his magazine.
“I kind of liked his horse. . . . Oh, Ray’s awake. I’ll go tell him the good news.”
She toddled off as Kristoff heaved a mental sigh. Only you two would consider having to create false trails in
