In her dreams, Nima was young again, flush with life and possibilities. This was the Nima before human religion had turned her mind away from immortal life. Her skin was smooth and her eyes were dark brown with flecks of gold that reminded Tenzin of amber. She loved staring into Nima’s eyes. Her face was constantly changing, but her beautiful brown eyes remained the same.
“Look at you.” Nima’s smile was a brilliant crescent moon. “Your hair is so short.”
“Do you like it?”
“It suits who you are now.” She scooted closer. “I would miss braiding it though. I always loved to braid your hair.”
“I am sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
Tenzin thought. “I do not know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I did not deserve your love.”
Nima’s smile turned soft. “My love for you was a gift. It required nothing in return.”
“You deserved more.”
Her eyes teased. “I know I did.”
She stroked the soft, smooth skin of Nima’s cheek. “I am sorry I was not who I am now.”
“You couldn’t be,” Nima said. “You needed to remember that you are human.”
“I am not human.”
“Oh, my lovely Tenzin.” Nima’s hand cupped Tenzin’s cheek, and her thumb brushed over her skin with a featherlight touch. “I was angry and I was wrong. You are the most human of them all, for you have known weakness. If you remember, it will only make you stronger.”
“I miss you.”
“He misses you.”
“But I miss you.”
“You miss him.”
Tenzin closed her eyes. “I wish I had been more for you.”
“You were only who you could be in that moment. Now you are someone else, and he loves who you are.”
“Sometimes I think he only loved an idea of me.”
“What are any of us but the idea of a person in someone else’s mind?” Nima pressed her forehead to Tenzin’s. “Don’t forget: ideas are powerful things.”
* * *
They flew under the clouds on a moonless night, their black clothes invisible in the night sky. If anyone saw them from below, they would only see a shadow passing over the stars as they flew southwest of the capital.
The mansion where Gergo Farkas made his home was a restored baroque castle that sprawled across a hilltop overlooking Lake Balaton. Lush forests covered the hill behind the house while gracious vineyards blanketed the slopes in front. All the fields draped down toward the emerald-green water of the lake, one of the most cherished tourist spots in Hungary.
The house was fully restored with bright yellow and cream plasterwork arches and intricate wrought iron running along numerous balconies.
Ben and Tenzin floated at a distance. Ben was looking through a pair of binoculars while Tenzin surveyed the land around the house.
“The north balcony,” Ben said. “The windows don’t look secure.”
“We’ll see,” Tenzin said. “I’ve heard that Farkas knows about our kind.”
“But how much?” It was one thing to know vampires existed. It was a whole other matter to know the intricacies of vampire life along with their strengths and weaknesses. “For now it doesn’t look like he’s expecting any thieves.”
“That could be a clever trap to lure us in.”
“Or it could be he’s an overconfident old man convinced of his own security.” Ben tucked the binoculars away. “North balcony.”
Tenzin spread her arms out. “You lead, and I shall follow.”
Ben sped down to the wide balcony that overlooked the hills and the vineyards. He landed softly and waited for Tenzin to join him. They moved silently over the balcony, which was paved with star-shaped stones.
Ben waited for Tenzin to reach the window, and it did look suspiciously open.
Tenzin narrowed her eyes. “Strange.” She pushed open the window without another word. “Let’s go.”
Ben followed, ducking his head as he entered the wide hallway that led along the north balcony. It was a classic long gallery with artwork hanging on both walls, interspersed with windows and french doors leading to the balcony. Doors leading to what were probably bedrooms came at regular intervals.
Ben turned right and followed Tenzin. She was out of sight, already turning the corner to the west gallery, which overlooked the front facade and grand entrance of the house.
He didn’t hear a pin drop. There were no humans in the house, no pets either if he had to guess.
Maybe a turtle. Turtles didn’t make much noise.
“Tenzin?”
She paused in front of a giant painting and looked up. “Do you think I could take this one?”
Ben glanced up. “No.”
“It would match Chloe’s room. He probably stole it in the first place.”
“Tenzin, it’s like six feet tall.”
“Midnight Labyrinth was bigger.”
He pulled on her sleeve. “Let’s just go.”
“Fine.” She started walking again. “No one is home, but something feels off.”
“I feel the same way.” He rushed through the gallery, scanning all the walls. “You see anything?”
“I don’t even see anything stylistically similar to the icon. These are all modern.”
“Agreed.” He reached the landing that led to the grand staircase and halted. “Oh, I get it.”
“Organized by era.” Tenzin ran her hand along the edge of a rural landscape. Romantic-era paintings lined the staircase, leading down to a neoclassical nude sculpture.
“Icons are going to be on the second floor maybe?”
“Depends. We’ll start there.” She was looking around the massive entryway. “Something isn’t right.”
Ben froze and whispered, “What?”
“Something about the house.”
“There’s no one here.”
“I know.” She floated to the center of the room, turning in place. “Come here.”
“Tenzin, we should really look at the second floor.”
“Just come here. There’s something, and I can’t quite tell…”
Ben floated out from the gallery landing to the center of the room. He had a distinct sense of discomfort. “Okay, I feel it now.”
“It’s too… small?”
It was a ridiculous statement on the surface—the house was enormous—but that was exactly the same feeling Ben had. The proportions of the rooms were off. “Let’s keep going. I think we’re going to find something on the second floor.”
“Okay.”
Tenzin and Ben floated down to the second-floor landing where, instead of a gallery leading around the house, a massive ballroom took up the east half of the residence.