Settings

The Force of Wind

Page 52

   


She glared at Tenzin. “Thanks, that’s reassuring.”
Tenzin shrugged. “It should be. I’ve been alive for over five thousand years. If there’s one thing predictable about the male of the species, it’s their sex drive and their fascination with fire.”
Beatrice snorted. “That’s it, huh?”
“Most advances in technology occur because they’re either trying to impress women or blow things up. It’s as predictable as the sunrise.”
The two women stared at each other for a few seconds before they burst into laughter. Even Tenzin was wiping blood stained tears from her eyes.
“I’m being mostly serious, my girl. He really does adore you. He’s angry right now. He feels like you went behind his back. That we both did—”
“We did go behind his back.”
“But it was for the best.”
Beatrice fell silent, wiping new tears from her eyes. “You sure?”
“I’m positive.” Tenzin sighed. “Some things just have to happen a certain way. He will understand that in time. And he hates being angry with you, I can tell.”
“I’m not a big fan of it, either.”
Tenzin waved her concerns away. “You’ll both be fine. You love each other too much to be angry for long. Plus”—she held a finger up—“you didn’t kill anyone. That’s a definite point in your favor.”
Beatrice sighed and looked back up at the stars, gleaming and multi-colored in the night sky. How had she ever thought the night was black? It was a million shades, none of them as dense or unyielding as she’d thought.
Eternal night was a million swirling shades of grey.
She was drinking a large mug of warmed blood the next time she saw him. Giovanni passed in the hall, stopping when he saw Beatrice and Stephen at the large dining table.
“Good evening, Beatrice, Stephen. How are you tonight?”
The mouthful of blood stuck in her throat.
“We’re doing well,” Stephen said. “Thank you. Tenzin said Beatrice’s kung fu is becoming quite exceptional.”
“That’s excellent.”
She forced the blood down, almost choking on the thick liquid as it slid down her throat. He was wearing a pair of grey slacks and a white oxford shirt, open at the collar so she could see the rise of his chest. She tried to read his eyes, hoping that their brilliant green depths might have softened to her since she had risen that evening.
They had not.
“I… I’m practicing later with Baojia,” she said, looking down at the small plate of food in front of her. It looked even more unappetizing than it had a few minutes before. “You should come by. We’re doing weapons and water practice.”
“I’ll try.”
“Gio, are you hungry?” Stephen offered. “The cooks prepared a very mild—”
“I’m fine, thank you.” Giovanni glanced at her briefly. “I’ve already fed this evening.”
A thick spike of jealousy cut through her. Beatrice wondered who he had fed from. It was just as likely Giovanni was making use of the donated blood in the palace as she and her father were, but a small part of her wondered whether he would be spiteful enough to drink from a human without telling her.
Stephen was speechless, looking between the two of them awkwardly.
“I have a meeting with Zhang in a few minutes. I’ll see you both later.”
Her father said, “Have a good evening.”
“Bye,” she said, never looking up and holding in the tears that wanted to escape. She heard his steps retreat down the hall, and she gripped the mug so tightly that it cracked, leaking blood over the ebony table before it dripped to the floor.
Beatrice rose and rushed to her room, never having finished her meal.
She regretted skipping her ration of blood later that night when she sparred with Baojia.
“Shit!” she yelled as he sliced through her arm with the razor-sharp dao. She had been distracted by the burning in her throat.
“Pay attention before I put another slice in you,” he yelled. “Where is your head tonight?”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” she spit at him as she walked to the wall to replace her dao in its scabbard. “Can we do water practice for a while?”
“Fine. But only because I’ll probably take your head off at some point for pissing me off. Then I’d have to deal with Giovanni trying to take mine.”
“Doubt he’d even care at this point,” she muttered as she took off her outer shirt to reveal the black tank underneath. It was skin tight, but since water practice usually involved both of them getting soaked from head to toe, the last thing she needed was to have wet practice robes flapping around while she tried to move.
“Let me count the ways I’m completely uninterested in your lover’s spat with your husband, Mrs. Vecchio,” Baojia sneered. “Don’t waste my time.”
She swung an arm at him, reaching out with her amnis to fling the water from the stream to his face. “Don’t call me ‘Mrs. Vecchio.’”
“Fine.” He spat out the water from behind bared fangs. “Let’s play.”
With a quick flick of his hand, she was soaked by a thin wall of water that materialized behind her. She rolled closer to the flowing stream, avoiding the charged air he aimed at her face. Since her change, Beatrice could sense the amnis in the air almost like floating currents that filled the room. And on each floating current, she could send her element. While she was only beginning to understand the force of it, Baojia was an expert.