“Wait, the Saint Luke? The one from the Bible?”
“The exact one.” Giovanni tapped the stylus and another image popped up. “And on the other side—added far later, you’d have to suppose—was an icon of Saint Sara. This is a painting of the icon included in an art inventory dating back to the eighteenth century, but as you can see, the depiction is very detailed.”
Ben leaned forward to examine the painting. The woman’s skin was a dark reddish brown, and her hair was depicted in tight black curls clipped close to her head. She was beautiful and had the large, peaceful eyes of many Orthodox icons. But there was something familiar about her features…
“I’ve seen this before.”
“I very much doubt that,” Giovanni said. “The last time anyone saw the icon of Saint Sara-la-Kali was in Budapest in 1835.” He flipped to the next slide, showing a picture of a gold-robed man draped in a red sash. “Before it was taken from the treasury of this man, Francis the Second, the last Holy Roman Emperor and later King of Hungary and Bohemia.”
Ben leaned back and crossed his arms. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t seen this exact icon.”
5
“I think you should take the plane.” Giovanni sipped a glass of golden scotch in front of the fire. “I know you can fly now, but the plane is faster. Plus it gives you a safe haven and a quick exit should anything become complicated.”
The idea of flying around in his uncle’s plane irked Ben, and he didn’t understand why. He’d been touchy ever since he arrived home. It didn’t make sense. Ben felt like a teenager again, overreacting to everything. Offended by the slightest suggestion he wasn’t doing things right.
They were sitting in the library, having a drink and talking about life and work. It was a thing they had done a hundred—maybe a thousand—times before. And yet Ben couldn’t relax. He felt uneasy. Constantly on edge.
He rubbed a hand over his beard and glanced at his uncle. “I know what you’re saying is right, but—”
“But you don’t want to.” Giovanni smiled a little. “Because the plane is an extension of my territory.”
Oh. Ben blinked. “Is that… Is that what’s going on?”
Giovanni turned toward him. “I’ve tried to hide my reaction, but I’m not immune to it either.”
Ben stood and paced in front of the fire. “So I’m going to be on edge in my childhood home from now on? That’s not okay, Gio. I don’t consider you a threat.” Ben turned to him. “At all. Ever.”
Giovanni stood and put a hand on his shoulder. “Be calm.”
Ben saw the flames in the fireplace whipping back and forth wildly. He took a deep breath.
“I don’t consider you a threat. I never would. These are our instincts, Benjamin. You are not human anymore. You were turned very recently by an enormously powerful and ancient vampire. Very few vampires can even imagine the changes your body and mind are going through right now, simply because of the power in your sire’s blood. My amnis reacts because it knows you’re a dangerous predator, and you’re in proximity to my mate and my child.”
Ben swallowed hard and had to fight back tears. Another overreaction. “Should I leave?”
“Of course not.” Giovanni pulled him into a hug. “You’re not the first powerful vampire who’s ever been in the house. Think about Carwyn or Tenzin. It’s just the newness. Sadia and Beatrice have been around Kato, Ben. He’s far more threatening than you are.”
“What do we do?”
“Nothing.” Giovanni pulled away and rubbed Ben’s hair like he’d done when Ben barely came up to his shoulder. “We do nothing. Like so many things in this life, we acknowledge the feeling and we give it time. It’s going to be rough for a while, but this feeling will pass. Our amnis will recognize each other as family, and we’ll be easy with each other again.”
Ben swallowed hard. “I am fighting the urge to punch you right now.”
“Completely understandable.” Giovanni released him. “Tenzin and I were uneasy around each other for decades. Of course, I was initially hired to kill her, so that didn’t help.”
The sound of her name made Ben flinch.
“Another instinctive reaction,” Giovanni said quietly. “But a very human one.”
“She betrayed me.”
“I know that’s how you feel.”
Ben ignored the surreptitious response. “Do you talk to her?”
“I do.”
Ben’s eyes rose. “Does Beatrice?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“In all ways but blood, she is your mother, Benjamin. She is angry on your behalf.”
“She and Tenzin were family once.” Part of him was satisfied and another part mourned. “I don’t want… I don’t know what I want.”
Giovanni looked to the fire. “You can love someone and still be angry with them.”
“Are you angry with her?”
His uncle said nothing.
Ben felt his fangs lengthen. He willed them back. “Are you?”
Giovanni put a hand over his heart and turned toward him. His eyes were full of pain. “Did you see Caspar at dinner? Did you sense it?”
“What does Caspar have to do—?”
“He has everything to do with you and your anger toward her. With me and my anger. Because I am watching him die, Ben. And even though he has had a good and long life—the life he wanted—I will lose…” Giovanni cleared his throat. “I will lose a part of my soul when Caspar is gone.”
Ben fought back his emotions. “But he made a choice and you respected that. I didn’t—”
“No.” Giovanni shook his head. “I know you didn’t. But how can I remain
