A Hidden Fire
Page 110
He led her mare beside them as they crossed the stream, and warmed her with his arms when a light mist began to fall.
“I love it here,” she whispered.
“So do I,” he said, thinking more of the girl in front of him than the valley they crossed.
They had spent their nights in peace, sleeping next to each other for most of the day and exploring the valley at night. He had shown her his favorite parts of Cochamó, and they spent hours in the company of Gustavo, Isabel, and their large family, who welcomed Beatrice like an old friend.
“Can I come back sometime?”
He brushed a kiss across her neck. “You can come back any time.”
They fell into silence for the rest of the ride. When they returned to the house, he picked up a note someone had slipped under the door.
Father called the lodge.
-Isabel
He closed his eyes, resigned to the intrusion of the outside world.
She lay next to him later that night, curled peacefully into his side as he read a book before dawn. She’d not had another disturbing dream since the night he had woken her and taken her to his bed; she had slept there every night since.
He thought about a quote from Aristotle he’d never paid much attention to until more recent months. “‘Love,’” he whispered in Italian, “‘is a single soul inhabiting two bodies.’”
He stared at her, wondering if it was so simple, watching in fascination as her eyelids flickered with dreams, and a small smile played at the corner of her mouth.
She still said her father’s name often, and he wished he had more answers for her. Stephen De Novo remained impressively elusive, despite Giovanni’s most persistent inquiries. He had to admire the young vampire’s skills in remaining hidden. He had evaded Lorenzo for years, and even now, remained stubbornly out of Giovanni’s reach. He knew he would not stop looking for him, if only to let the vampire know that his daughter knew about him and wanted to find him.
“Gio?” she murmured and reached for him as she slept. Setting his book to the side, he slid down and took her into his arms, wondering again how he would ever let her go.
Two days later, they sat next to each other as the plane flew north to land at the small private airfield where Beatrice had left Houston over two months before.
“And my grandma and Caspar are at your house?” she asked, clasping his hand in her own.
“Yes, and Carwyn and Tenzin, as well.”
“And none of his people are going to come after me?”
“We killed most of them. My negotiations in Rome and Athens should have secured your safety from the rest of his allies.”
She nodded quickly, but tightened her grip.
“He’s not dead though, is he?”
He felt his fangs fall. “No, I suspect he will be recovering for some time, but he still has resources.”
“And he’ll come after me again. To get to my father.”
He tilted her chin up so she would meet his gaze. “I’ll kill him before he gets to you.”
She may have nodded, but Giovanni could see the infuriating doubt lingering in her eyes. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and held onto him for the rest of the flight.
His stomach dropped when the plane landed, but it wasn’t from any turbulence. She stood as the plane came to a halt, but he grabbed her hand before she could exit.
Pushing her up against the door, he leaned down and kissed her. He felt the current of desperation run through him, but he held fast, clutching her back and gripping the nape of her neck. He forced himself to back away, suppressing his instinct to bite and claim her when he saw her red swollen lips and the desire that lit her eyes.
“Gio—”
“We should go,” he breathed out. “Now, tesoro, before I tell the plane to take us back.”
“I want—”
“Your grandmother, Beatrice,” he growled. “She’s waiting for us outside.”
She bit her lip and her eyes narrowed in anger when she picked up the small leather case he had bought for her in Puerto Montt. She pushed past him and opened the thick door that shielded the plane’s sealed compartment.
He closed his eyes, burying his frustration and breathing slowly until he regained his self-control. By the time he left the plane, Beatrice was wrapped in Isadora’s fierce embrace as Caspar watched them with tears in the corners of his eyes.
“Gio,” Caspar said as he strode toward him and embraced his old friend. “It’s such a relief to see you both.”
“Is everyone at the house?” he asked as he patted Caspar’s back.
“Tenzin and Carwyn are both out hunting. They’ll be back before dawn, but you need to rest. Have you fed—”
“I’m fine. We’ll go back to the house. Tomorrow is soon enough to meet with them.”
“Isadora has been staying at the house with me.”
He nodded. “Of course, my friend. Of course.”
They drove to the house and Beatrice sat next to him in the back of the car, keeping her hands carefully folded in her lap. When they arrived, Caspar and Isadora retired to his apartment, and Beatrice and Giovanni went upstairs. Beatrice went to her old room as he slowly climbed the stairs to his. He peeled off his rumpled shirt, petting Doyle as the cat curled around his legs in welcome.
“I love it here,” she whispered.
“So do I,” he said, thinking more of the girl in front of him than the valley they crossed.
They had spent their nights in peace, sleeping next to each other for most of the day and exploring the valley at night. He had shown her his favorite parts of Cochamó, and they spent hours in the company of Gustavo, Isabel, and their large family, who welcomed Beatrice like an old friend.
“Can I come back sometime?”
He brushed a kiss across her neck. “You can come back any time.”
They fell into silence for the rest of the ride. When they returned to the house, he picked up a note someone had slipped under the door.
Father called the lodge.
-Isabel
He closed his eyes, resigned to the intrusion of the outside world.
She lay next to him later that night, curled peacefully into his side as he read a book before dawn. She’d not had another disturbing dream since the night he had woken her and taken her to his bed; she had slept there every night since.
He thought about a quote from Aristotle he’d never paid much attention to until more recent months. “‘Love,’” he whispered in Italian, “‘is a single soul inhabiting two bodies.’”
He stared at her, wondering if it was so simple, watching in fascination as her eyelids flickered with dreams, and a small smile played at the corner of her mouth.
She still said her father’s name often, and he wished he had more answers for her. Stephen De Novo remained impressively elusive, despite Giovanni’s most persistent inquiries. He had to admire the young vampire’s skills in remaining hidden. He had evaded Lorenzo for years, and even now, remained stubbornly out of Giovanni’s reach. He knew he would not stop looking for him, if only to let the vampire know that his daughter knew about him and wanted to find him.
“Gio?” she murmured and reached for him as she slept. Setting his book to the side, he slid down and took her into his arms, wondering again how he would ever let her go.
Two days later, they sat next to each other as the plane flew north to land at the small private airfield where Beatrice had left Houston over two months before.
“And my grandma and Caspar are at your house?” she asked, clasping his hand in her own.
“Yes, and Carwyn and Tenzin, as well.”
“And none of his people are going to come after me?”
“We killed most of them. My negotiations in Rome and Athens should have secured your safety from the rest of his allies.”
She nodded quickly, but tightened her grip.
“He’s not dead though, is he?”
He felt his fangs fall. “No, I suspect he will be recovering for some time, but he still has resources.”
“And he’ll come after me again. To get to my father.”
He tilted her chin up so she would meet his gaze. “I’ll kill him before he gets to you.”
She may have nodded, but Giovanni could see the infuriating doubt lingering in her eyes. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and held onto him for the rest of the flight.
His stomach dropped when the plane landed, but it wasn’t from any turbulence. She stood as the plane came to a halt, but he grabbed her hand before she could exit.
Pushing her up against the door, he leaned down and kissed her. He felt the current of desperation run through him, but he held fast, clutching her back and gripping the nape of her neck. He forced himself to back away, suppressing his instinct to bite and claim her when he saw her red swollen lips and the desire that lit her eyes.
“Gio—”
“We should go,” he breathed out. “Now, tesoro, before I tell the plane to take us back.”
“I want—”
“Your grandmother, Beatrice,” he growled. “She’s waiting for us outside.”
She bit her lip and her eyes narrowed in anger when she picked up the small leather case he had bought for her in Puerto Montt. She pushed past him and opened the thick door that shielded the plane’s sealed compartment.
He closed his eyes, burying his frustration and breathing slowly until he regained his self-control. By the time he left the plane, Beatrice was wrapped in Isadora’s fierce embrace as Caspar watched them with tears in the corners of his eyes.
“Gio,” Caspar said as he strode toward him and embraced his old friend. “It’s such a relief to see you both.”
“Is everyone at the house?” he asked as he patted Caspar’s back.
“Tenzin and Carwyn are both out hunting. They’ll be back before dawn, but you need to rest. Have you fed—”
“I’m fine. We’ll go back to the house. Tomorrow is soon enough to meet with them.”
“Isadora has been staying at the house with me.”
He nodded. “Of course, my friend. Of course.”
They drove to the house and Beatrice sat next to him in the back of the car, keeping her hands carefully folded in her lap. When they arrived, Caspar and Isadora retired to his apartment, and Beatrice and Giovanni went upstairs. Beatrice went to her old room as he slowly climbed the stairs to his. He peeled off his rumpled shirt, petting Doyle as the cat curled around his legs in welcome.
