“Stupid vampires with their stupid preternatural senses,” she muttered, but she knew Carwyn could hear her because he his shoulders began shaking with silent laughter.
It was almost nine o’clock when Dr. Scalia finally started packing up his things and made his way over to the reference desk.
“Miss De Novo, please give Dr. Christiansen my regards. Such a wonderful acquisition. I’m informed that we will probably be receiving more in the next months, is that correct? Do you know if they are from the same correspondents?”
She could feel the charge as two sets of eye narrowed in on her as she answered the small professor.
“I don’t know the details of all that. I’ve heard rumors from Dr. Christiansen, but you’d really have to ask him,” she said in a small voice, well aware that both Carwyn and Giovanni could hear the rapid beating of her heart.
“Well, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”
“Have a good night,” she answered as he left the room. The door was scarcely closed before Giovanni rushed over to her with no attempt to hide his speed.
“More? When? When did you hear this? Are they from the same donor? When are they coming? Have they already been authenticated?”
“Holy unanswered questions, Batman! Back off, okay?” Beatrice huffed a little and saw Carwyn smother another smile. “Dr. Christiansen mentioned that there
“Oh, there’ll be more,” Carwyn muttered.
Giovanni shot him a glance. “Shut up.”
“Hey, don’t tell him to shut up, Gio. At least he doesn’t treat me like an idiot who doesn’t understand anything.”
He frowned. “I don’t-I mean…I don’t think you’re an idiot in any way, Beatrice.” She thought he almost looked offended.
“Yeah? Well, it sure feels that way sometimes.” He was looking at her with that blank expression he wore when he didn’t want to tell her something. It made her want to throw something at him.
“Listen,” she said. “I’m not an idiot. I know you guys know
Carwyn was smiling at her with a proud gleam in his eye. “Clever girl, B. Such a clever girl.”
“Carwyn,” Giovanni said sharply. “Don’t-”
“She figured out a good portion on her own without all the background we have. You may as well tell her the rest.” Then Carwyn spit out something in Latin that Beatrice couldn’t understand, but it made Giovanni seem to growl. He looked at Carwyn with a glare that almost reminded her of the mood that had overtaken him the previous night.
“What’s going on?” she asked tentatively.
Carwyn shook his head and Giovanni seemed to gather himself again.
“Carwyn and I have a disagreement on some things, Beatrice. But he is correct. There’s a large part of this that does relate to your father, and we should inform you of that.”
“These letters,” Giovanni walked over to the table and sat in front of the two yellowed pieces of parchment before he continued quietly. “These are my letters. And by that, I mean they are part of a collection I had at one time. It was taken from me and I’ve been searching for it.”
He looked at Beatrice, and she again had the feeling of seeing each long year of his existence stretch out in the depth of his gaze.
“I’ve been searching for almost four hundred years. I was told it had been destroyed. Many years later, I discovered parts of it had been saved, but scattered. Now, however,” he leaned back and crossed his arms as he gazed at the two letters, “I think it is intact. And I know who took it, who the donor is.”
He turned to look at her. “I’m not going to tell you how I know, so don’t ask. He’s dangerous, that’s all you need to know and if you ever see another immortal that I don’t introduce you to, I want you to tell me or Carwyn immediately.”
“Bossy,” she muttered.
“Mortal,” he threw back, and Carwyn chuckled. “I’m not joking about this, Beatrice. Our world isn’t ruled by laws, or even convention. The strongest, smartest, and wealthiest have the most power. And power is the only law. This vampire has brains, strength, and wealth in abundance. I manage to live the way I do because I stay off the radar-”
“That, and he likes his enemies toasted
“-but this one,” he glared at the priest, “has sought me out. I don’t know for certain why now, but,” he paused, letting his eyes rake over her, “I have my suspicions.”
He fell silent and continued examining the documents, taking special note of the left side of the parchment where it appeared a cut had been carefully made. Beatrice watched him, going over all the cryptic pieces of information she had gleaned in the weeks since she had learned the truth about Giovanni and her father.
“Is it because of me? Because we met? What does this have to do with my father?”
Giovanni halted his perusal to stare at her, and the flicker she saw for a brief moment spurred her on.
“I mean…you’ve been looking for these books. My dad was looking for something in Italy.” Suddenly, all the pieces fell together in her mind. “It was
She saw Carwyn and Giovanni exchange loaded looks.
“Told you,” Carwyn muttered.
Giovanni said something to him in Latin that sounded like a curse, but then he turned back to Beatrice. She could see the war in his eyes, but he finally gave a slight nod. “Yes, you’re partially correct.”
She was speechless for a moment, amazed he had actually told her anything. “So…okay, this guy that stole your books or letters or whatever he has-what does he want now?”
She saw Carwyn and Giovanni exchange another glance.
“We think he might be looking for your father,” Carwyn said quietly. “We’re not sure why, but that’s probably why he sent the letters here.”
“Okay, so my dad knows something…all right. And this guy’s dangerous, right? Does he make fire like Gio?”
Carwyn said, “No, he-”
“You don’t need to know-”
She glared at Giovanni. “I want to know who he is!”
“How very unfortunate for you.” He continued to examine the letters, looking over the second one and handling it as if it was made of finely spun glass.
“You arrogant ass-”
“Lorenzo,” he said. “He goes by Lorenzo now.”
Beatrice’s mouth fell open, “He’s not-”
“No,” Carwyn said. “No, not the one you’re thinking of.”
Giovanni brought the letters up to his face to finally examine them more closely. “He likes to give people the impression that he’s one of the Medici’s bastards,” he murmured as he searched the old parchment. “He’s not, but some think he is, and it adds to the mystique, I suppose. He likes notoriety.” He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, and Beatrice could see them dart behind his closed lids as if he was searching his memory for some piece that had escaped.
“You see, B,” Carwyn spoke in an even tone, “some in our world choose to seek power. Power over land, humans, riches. And he wants something from Giovanni, otherwise, he wouldn’t be doing this. There is something he thinks he can gain.”
“Or someone,” Giovanni mused quietly, and the already quiet room fell completely silent.
“Someone?” Beatrice finally asked, her eyes nervous and looking toward the door as if a threat could walk
