The Force of Wind
Page 22
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you so averse to siring your own friend, bird-girl?”
“Did I say that?” She shrugged in her irritatingly vague way. “Even if she is sired from wind, the flying always takes time to develop.”
“Not for your child, it wouldn’t.”
They continued walking. He knew Tenzin wouldn’t tell him anything more, even if he pestered her, so he switched to a topic he knew would irritate her.
“I’m very curious to learn more about the elixir.”
Her string of Mongolian curses was impressive. Most of them had something to do with horses and obscene acts. Giovanni just smirked.
“You have such a foul mouth for a little girl.”
Tenzin punched his side. Then she threw him several meters away purely out of irritation.
“I knew you were going to be excited about that. If I could have destroyed that book when I learned about it, I would have been far happier, but Stephen was too attached to it.”
“Not to mention that it rightfully belongs to me. Why destroy it? Maybe it really would allow us to stop feeding off humanity like parasites.”
She shook her head. “It’s so ridiculous, this guilt you feel. And don’t pretend that it has anything to do with being a humanitarian, Giovanni.”
“What?”
“You don’t have a problem feeding from Beatrice, do you? You don’t have a problem buying blood from banks when you need to. No, you just don’t like being dependent on anyone, even a human, for your own survival. That’s why you would prefer to conquer the bloodlust.”
He frowned, unwilling to admit that part of her judgment was correct.
“It would be better for Beatrice if—”
“You didn’t try to dictate her actions again?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “If you allowed her to make her own decisions? I agree. The choice has always been hers.”
“Damn you, woman.”
“Stubborn old man.”
“That’s highly amusing, coming from you.”
She laughed the tinkling, wind-chime laugh as the breeze picked up. “Why do you fight your own fate, my boy? She is your balance in this life.”
“In every life. I know.”
“Do you?” She stopped and placed a hand on his cheek, looking up at him with the loving, almost maternal, gaze she allowed herself at times. Giovanni didn’t know much about her human life, but he knew that at one point Tenzin had mortal children of her own. He had a feeling their fate had not been pleasant.
“I know you sent me to her, Tenzin,” he whispered, sensing the approach of a servant. “I know you saw her.”
A slow smile grew on her face. “I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff?” She winked and flew up, perching on one of the scholar’s stones as she looked across the garden at the servant hurrying toward them in brown robes. She closed her eyes and turned her face into the breeze.
“Trouble is coming,” she murmured into the wind. “No…” She shook her head and looked down at him with stormy eyes. “Trouble is here.”
“Mistress Tenzin,” the servant said as he bowed low, “your father requests your presence in the great hall with Dr. Vecchio.” The man did not look up, and Giovanni had the impression he was purposely avoiding Tenzin’s gaze. She floated down from the top of the tall limestone pillar.
“Stop bowing. Has Stephen been called to the Elders?” Her eyes darted across the dark garden toward the glowing lanterns in the center of the complex.
“He is already there, Mistress.”
“I said stop bowing. Go to my chambers and inform Nima.”
“Yes, Mistress.” He started to scurry off. “Wait!” she called before she turned to Giovanni. “Have you fed tonight?”
He frowned. “No, I fed last night. I don’t need—”
“Feed.” She pulled the servant in front of him. The man immediately held up a wrist, bowing his head so as not to meet Giovanni’s eyes.
“Tenzin, I told you, I don’t need it.”
“Giovanni…” She glanced toward the glowing lanterns again. “Feed.”
Narrowing his eyes, he took the servant’s wrist and bit, numbing the man’s skin so it wouldn’t be painful. Despite his initial irritation, he couldn’t help but enjoy the rich flow of blood from the servant, who obviously kept to an older diet free from processed foods. The surge of strength was immediate, and he felt his amnis pulse within him as he opened his senses and sent them across the palace grounds. A faint energy signature caught him off guard, and he pulled away from the man’s wrist, quickly sealing the wounds he had made.
“What is this?” he hissed before taking off at a run. He felt Tenzin’s amnis at his back and forced himself to hold back and wait for her. He paused before entering the hall, pulling back his fury and calming the rush of fire beneath his skin. Tenzin put a hand on his arm, pulling him back so she could enter the Great Hall ahead of him.
“My boy, I cannot emphasize how important it is for you to let me speak. Whatever you hear, remain silent.”
She strode forward, the jeweled doors swinging open with a flick of her hands that made the human servants scurry. The silk curtains blew back as Giovanni followed her into the glowing hall. It was filled to capacity with curious humans and wary immortals, and he could feel the tension roiling when Tenzin spoke.
“Lorenzo!” she called out as the press of immortals parted in front of her. “Get your hands off my mate.”
“Did I say that?” She shrugged in her irritatingly vague way. “Even if she is sired from wind, the flying always takes time to develop.”
“Not for your child, it wouldn’t.”
They continued walking. He knew Tenzin wouldn’t tell him anything more, even if he pestered her, so he switched to a topic he knew would irritate her.
“I’m very curious to learn more about the elixir.”
Her string of Mongolian curses was impressive. Most of them had something to do with horses and obscene acts. Giovanni just smirked.
“You have such a foul mouth for a little girl.”
Tenzin punched his side. Then she threw him several meters away purely out of irritation.
“I knew you were going to be excited about that. If I could have destroyed that book when I learned about it, I would have been far happier, but Stephen was too attached to it.”
“Not to mention that it rightfully belongs to me. Why destroy it? Maybe it really would allow us to stop feeding off humanity like parasites.”
She shook her head. “It’s so ridiculous, this guilt you feel. And don’t pretend that it has anything to do with being a humanitarian, Giovanni.”
“What?”
“You don’t have a problem feeding from Beatrice, do you? You don’t have a problem buying blood from banks when you need to. No, you just don’t like being dependent on anyone, even a human, for your own survival. That’s why you would prefer to conquer the bloodlust.”
He frowned, unwilling to admit that part of her judgment was correct.
“It would be better for Beatrice if—”
“You didn’t try to dictate her actions again?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “If you allowed her to make her own decisions? I agree. The choice has always been hers.”
“Damn you, woman.”
“Stubborn old man.”
“That’s highly amusing, coming from you.”
She laughed the tinkling, wind-chime laugh as the breeze picked up. “Why do you fight your own fate, my boy? She is your balance in this life.”
“In every life. I know.”
“Do you?” She stopped and placed a hand on his cheek, looking up at him with the loving, almost maternal, gaze she allowed herself at times. Giovanni didn’t know much about her human life, but he knew that at one point Tenzin had mortal children of her own. He had a feeling their fate had not been pleasant.
“I know you sent me to her, Tenzin,” he whispered, sensing the approach of a servant. “I know you saw her.”
A slow smile grew on her face. “I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff?” She winked and flew up, perching on one of the scholar’s stones as she looked across the garden at the servant hurrying toward them in brown robes. She closed her eyes and turned her face into the breeze.
“Trouble is coming,” she murmured into the wind. “No…” She shook her head and looked down at him with stormy eyes. “Trouble is here.”
“Mistress Tenzin,” the servant said as he bowed low, “your father requests your presence in the great hall with Dr. Vecchio.” The man did not look up, and Giovanni had the impression he was purposely avoiding Tenzin’s gaze. She floated down from the top of the tall limestone pillar.
“Stop bowing. Has Stephen been called to the Elders?” Her eyes darted across the dark garden toward the glowing lanterns in the center of the complex.
“He is already there, Mistress.”
“I said stop bowing. Go to my chambers and inform Nima.”
“Yes, Mistress.” He started to scurry off. “Wait!” she called before she turned to Giovanni. “Have you fed tonight?”
He frowned. “No, I fed last night. I don’t need—”
“Feed.” She pulled the servant in front of him. The man immediately held up a wrist, bowing his head so as not to meet Giovanni’s eyes.
“Tenzin, I told you, I don’t need it.”
“Giovanni…” She glanced toward the glowing lanterns again. “Feed.”
Narrowing his eyes, he took the servant’s wrist and bit, numbing the man’s skin so it wouldn’t be painful. Despite his initial irritation, he couldn’t help but enjoy the rich flow of blood from the servant, who obviously kept to an older diet free from processed foods. The surge of strength was immediate, and he felt his amnis pulse within him as he opened his senses and sent them across the palace grounds. A faint energy signature caught him off guard, and he pulled away from the man’s wrist, quickly sealing the wounds he had made.
“What is this?” he hissed before taking off at a run. He felt Tenzin’s amnis at his back and forced himself to hold back and wait for her. He paused before entering the hall, pulling back his fury and calming the rush of fire beneath his skin. Tenzin put a hand on his arm, pulling him back so she could enter the Great Hall ahead of him.
“My boy, I cannot emphasize how important it is for you to let me speak. Whatever you hear, remain silent.”
She strode forward, the jeweled doors swinging open with a flick of her hands that made the human servants scurry. The silk curtains blew back as Giovanni followed her into the glowing hall. It was filled to capacity with curious humans and wary immortals, and he could feel the tension roiling when Tenzin spoke.
“Lorenzo!” she called out as the press of immortals parted in front of her. “Get your hands off my mate.”
