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The Force of Wind

Page 13

   


“I left her, too. Like a fool. After I came back, it took me months to realize what I had done, how I had hurt her.” He took a deep breath and calmed the rush of his heart, taking a seat on the bench once again. “I was arrogant, probably even more than you. I thought I knew what was best for her, what she could ‘handle.’”
Stephen sat with his arms resting by his side and his shoulders slumped. He took a hand and waved it in a scooping motion toward the stream. A ball of water floated toward him, and he tossed it in the air between his upturned palms like a baseball.
“I never thought about it that way. I really didn’t think she’d remember me.”
“Don’t get me started on your clumsy mental manipulations. You’re lucky that I’m feeling generous and she has such a strong mind.”
Stephen winced and let the ball of water splatter on the neatly trimmed grass. “My father,  Hector—”
“Your father was a good man, De Novo, but he died. He didn’t want to leave her, but he did anyway. You left her. Your father left her. I left her. Don’t even get me started on the woman who calls herself her mother. Frankly, some days I think it’s a miracle she’ll talk to either of us.”
Stephen looked at the ground, nodding. “I understand what you’re saying.”
“She’s far stronger than either of us gave her credit for. Just remember that.”
“Will she…” Stephen looked at him with pleading eyes. “I mean, does she want this life? Have you talked about it?”
Giovanni looked away. “You’ll have to ask her. It is not my business to speak for her.”
“I understand,” Stephen said, nodding again.
“Do you?” Giovanni leaned forward, capturing Stephen in his vivid green gaze. “Make sure that you do.”
Stephen did not flinch under his stare. “She’s lucky she found you.”
Giovanni shook his head and muttered, “I am the lucky one.” Just then, his eyes darted to the right as he registered an ancient immortal coming toward them. Giovanni held up a hand to silence Stephen and took a deep breath, waiting for their host in a pose of meditation.
“Giovanni Vecchio. Stephen.” Elder Zhang spoke as he approached them. “You are enjoying the hours before dawn in my favorite place.”
Giovanni smirked. “I thought your favorite place was the banquet hall.”
Zhang chuckled. “You know me too well. I have to thank you both for giving my daughter a reason to come visit me. It has been too long since I have seen her.”
“You know Tenzin only does what she wishes, Zhang.” Giovanni had always liked Tenzin’s sire, enjoying his jovial personality that often reminded him of Carwyn. But he knew Zhang and Tenzin’s history was complicated, so he didn’t often express his feelings to his old friend.
“My daughter has always done what she wishes,” the ancient wind vampire said. “I suppose I should be grateful she visits at all.”
Giovanni fell silent, wary of saying the wrong thing. Zhang looked Stephen up and down. “Stephen, have you fed tonight?”
“I have, Elder Zhang. Thank you for asking.”
“And how are you finding the palace after the austerity of the monastery?”
“I am grateful for my time in both, Elder Zhang. I am grateful for your hospitality, as well as the hospitality of Elder Lu Dongbin’s monks.”
So, Beatrice came by her political side naturally.
Stephen answered graciously, with none of the hesitation that would typically mark a vampire speaking to one so much older than himself. In fact, Stephen had carried himself with a surprising amount of confidence in the main hall earlier in the evening, as well.
Interesting.
“And your book has remained safely at the monastery, has it not?” Zhang said, looking at Giovanni out of the corner of his eye. Giovanni cut his eyes toward Stephen, curious what the young immortal would reveal with his expression, but Stephen had mastered the art of the impassive face. His expression revealed nothing but contentment.
Giovanni spoke up. “It is quite safe, from what Tenzin tells me. No one knows the location of the monastery except the Elders, is that not true, Zhang? Even Stephen was prevented from knowing where he was going on his journey.”
“Very true.” Zhang quirked a smile and shrugged his shoulders in an unusually dramatic fashion. Tenzin’s sire was from the ancient steppes of Northern Asia and had always been more expressive than his younger Chinese peers. His mannerisms reflected it. “I feel the pull of the dawn coming. I believe I will retire.”
Zhang nodded at them both before taking his leave, lifting off the ground in front of them and skipping across the top of the stones as he flew toward his rooms.
Giovanni looked at Stephen. “A good suggestion for all of us, I think.”
Stephen and Giovanni rose and walked across the lawn.
“We’ll talk about the book tomorrow, Stephen. At first dark, when Beatrice and I are awake.”
Beatrice’s father nodded quickly. “Fine, I’ll be expecting it.” Then he smiled as he watched Zhang’s retreating figure. “You realize he doesn’t really sleep, right? Neither he nor Tenzin have to sleep more than an hour or two a day.”
“I know.” But I find it curious that you do, Stephen.
He couldn’t help but notice, as they walked toward the windowless rooms of Tenzin’s palace and the morning sky began to lighten, that Stephen hadn’t slowed at all, as a younger vampire normally would as he felt the pull of day.