The Force of Wind
Page 49
“Thank you again.”
“We are at your disposal. It is our honor to help.” She gave a nod and walked down the hall, giving quiet instructions to the young vampire at the end of the hall.
Giovanni shut the door and checked the clock on the wall, before he walked back to the bedroom. He paced for a few minutes, determined to push back his anger and frustration. It was not something she could deal with her first night. Taking a deep breath, he peeled the sheets back to really look at her for the first time since her change.
He had been right. She was stunning.
Her skin was smooth and pale, a luminescent pearl that glowed in the lamplight. Her hair was the same, a thick, shining wave of brown that would hopefully still match her eyes. It wasn’t uncommon for eyes to change, but her father’s had not, so he hoped Beatrice’s wouldn’t, either.
He pulled her lip up to see the delicate fangs peeking at him. For the first time in days, he smiled. They weren’t fully extended yet, but he could imagine them gleaming in her mouth, and he shuddered in anticipation.
Her body was the same, preserved for all eternity as it had been on her last day of human life. The marks in her neck from Tenzin’s bite had healed, but he could still see the tiny scars left on the rise of her right breast where he had bitten her while they made love on their wedding night. She had asked him not to heal that bite, wanting the tiny reminder that only they would see.
The small scar on her knee remained, a token of childhood that he kissed, along with the small, sad scars that marked her thigh. She could have had them removed, but she had chosen not to. He traced over each mark on her body that remained unchanged.
“Tesoro mio,” he murmured as he stroked her face. “So stubborn. How I love you.”
If there was one thing he remembered from waking, it was the pain along his sensitive skin. Every nerve ending was heightened in a vampire, particularly a new one who hadn’t fully mastered their amnis and the shield it could provide. It was that sharp, overwhelming pain that had first caused the fire to bloom on Giovanni’s skin as a newborn vampire. He would never forget the look of fascination and glee in Andros’s eyes when he saw it.
He knew she would be most comfortable surrounded by her element, so he left her in bed and drew a warm bath in the large, marble tub. Then he walked back to the bedroom and gathered her up to wait.
He could feel it in her skin first, the twitching, shuddering sensation that rippled wherever his fingers touched. It started on her arms, then traveled down to her fingers, which twitched under the warm water. His arms encircled her as she lay against his chest. He felt her rouse, and she took a deep, gasping breath.
“Ah!” she cried, scooting away from his arms and turning as the water sloshed out of the bath. She put her hands over her ears to shield them from the sound of her own voice, but winced at the movement. “What’s wrong with me?”
He held his hands up, soothing her as her eyes darted around the room. He almost sighed in relief that they were the same deep brown.
“Shh,” he whispered, conscious of her newly keen hearing, “what is the last thing you remember?”
Her eyes finally settled on him, and she stared rapt at his face.
“Your eyes are different. Why are your eyes different?”
He smiled. “You’re just seeing more light, Beatrice. I’m the same.”
She shivered, and blood-tinged tears fell down her face. “It hurts. Why does it hurt everywhere? I’m sorry, are you mad at me? Please, don’t be mad at me.”
His heart ached at her confused plea, and he swallowed the last of his anger in the face of her need. “Take a deep breath. It will calm you, even though you no longer need the oxygen. It’s habit.”
She took one, a look of confusion coloring her face when she realized she didn’t need to breathe it out. “Now let it out.” She did, then took another. “Your skin hurts because the nerve endings are much more sensitive. Your whole body is like an exposed nerve.”
“Yeah,” she moaned. “No kidding.”
He continued to make soothing noises, humming quietly as she took a few moments to compose herself.
“Why are we in the bathtub?”
“It should help with the sensitivity. Does it feel good?”
“Yeah.” She breathed out. “Really good.”
“Do you feel the water around you?”
“Yes,” she said, looking down in fascination. “It loves me.”
He smiled. “Yes, it does. Water will always be your element now. You will have more control over yourself when you are surrounded by it. Do you feel your amnis?”
Beatrice wasn’t paying attention. She had lifted a hand out of the water, drawing rivulets of it up to meet her fingertips where she made them dance like puppet strings. Giovanni was amazed by her control. The mere fact that she could be sitting in the water and not have it rushing uncontrollably over her body was remarkable.
“Water loves me.”
“Yes, it does.”
“I love water.”
Giovanni chuckled. Her mind was probably so flooded with new sensory information, she was focusing on the one thing that seemed to make sense. He remembered the same feeling looking into a candle on his first night of immortal life.
“I love you,” she said. She was staring at him again.
“I love you, too.” As if it was even a question.
“You’re mad at me.”
As if it was even a question.
“We are at your disposal. It is our honor to help.” She gave a nod and walked down the hall, giving quiet instructions to the young vampire at the end of the hall.
Giovanni shut the door and checked the clock on the wall, before he walked back to the bedroom. He paced for a few minutes, determined to push back his anger and frustration. It was not something she could deal with her first night. Taking a deep breath, he peeled the sheets back to really look at her for the first time since her change.
He had been right. She was stunning.
Her skin was smooth and pale, a luminescent pearl that glowed in the lamplight. Her hair was the same, a thick, shining wave of brown that would hopefully still match her eyes. It wasn’t uncommon for eyes to change, but her father’s had not, so he hoped Beatrice’s wouldn’t, either.
He pulled her lip up to see the delicate fangs peeking at him. For the first time in days, he smiled. They weren’t fully extended yet, but he could imagine them gleaming in her mouth, and he shuddered in anticipation.
Her body was the same, preserved for all eternity as it had been on her last day of human life. The marks in her neck from Tenzin’s bite had healed, but he could still see the tiny scars left on the rise of her right breast where he had bitten her while they made love on their wedding night. She had asked him not to heal that bite, wanting the tiny reminder that only they would see.
The small scar on her knee remained, a token of childhood that he kissed, along with the small, sad scars that marked her thigh. She could have had them removed, but she had chosen not to. He traced over each mark on her body that remained unchanged.
“Tesoro mio,” he murmured as he stroked her face. “So stubborn. How I love you.”
If there was one thing he remembered from waking, it was the pain along his sensitive skin. Every nerve ending was heightened in a vampire, particularly a new one who hadn’t fully mastered their amnis and the shield it could provide. It was that sharp, overwhelming pain that had first caused the fire to bloom on Giovanni’s skin as a newborn vampire. He would never forget the look of fascination and glee in Andros’s eyes when he saw it.
He knew she would be most comfortable surrounded by her element, so he left her in bed and drew a warm bath in the large, marble tub. Then he walked back to the bedroom and gathered her up to wait.
He could feel it in her skin first, the twitching, shuddering sensation that rippled wherever his fingers touched. It started on her arms, then traveled down to her fingers, which twitched under the warm water. His arms encircled her as she lay against his chest. He felt her rouse, and she took a deep, gasping breath.
“Ah!” she cried, scooting away from his arms and turning as the water sloshed out of the bath. She put her hands over her ears to shield them from the sound of her own voice, but winced at the movement. “What’s wrong with me?”
He held his hands up, soothing her as her eyes darted around the room. He almost sighed in relief that they were the same deep brown.
“Shh,” he whispered, conscious of her newly keen hearing, “what is the last thing you remember?”
Her eyes finally settled on him, and she stared rapt at his face.
“Your eyes are different. Why are your eyes different?”
He smiled. “You’re just seeing more light, Beatrice. I’m the same.”
She shivered, and blood-tinged tears fell down her face. “It hurts. Why does it hurt everywhere? I’m sorry, are you mad at me? Please, don’t be mad at me.”
His heart ached at her confused plea, and he swallowed the last of his anger in the face of her need. “Take a deep breath. It will calm you, even though you no longer need the oxygen. It’s habit.”
She took one, a look of confusion coloring her face when she realized she didn’t need to breathe it out. “Now let it out.” She did, then took another. “Your skin hurts because the nerve endings are much more sensitive. Your whole body is like an exposed nerve.”
“Yeah,” she moaned. “No kidding.”
He continued to make soothing noises, humming quietly as she took a few moments to compose herself.
“Why are we in the bathtub?”
“It should help with the sensitivity. Does it feel good?”
“Yeah.” She breathed out. “Really good.”
“Do you feel the water around you?”
“Yes,” she said, looking down in fascination. “It loves me.”
He smiled. “Yes, it does. Water will always be your element now. You will have more control over yourself when you are surrounded by it. Do you feel your amnis?”
Beatrice wasn’t paying attention. She had lifted a hand out of the water, drawing rivulets of it up to meet her fingertips where she made them dance like puppet strings. Giovanni was amazed by her control. The mere fact that she could be sitting in the water and not have it rushing uncontrollably over her body was remarkable.
“Water loves me.”
“Yes, it does.”
“I love water.”
Giovanni chuckled. Her mind was probably so flooded with new sensory information, she was focusing on the one thing that seemed to make sense. He remembered the same feeling looking into a candle on his first night of immortal life.
“I love you,” she said. She was staring at him again.
“I love you, too.” As if it was even a question.
“You’re mad at me.”
As if it was even a question.
