A Hidden Fire: Elemental Mysteries Book 1 (23 page)

She lost herself for a few more minutes before Giovanni jerked his head away.  “That’s enough, tesoro,” he said clearly. “A glass of the eighteen year old Macallan for me, and a Laphroaig for the girl.”

“Yes, Dr. Vecchio,” she heard a waiter murmur behind her.

“You’ll like the Laphroaig,” he muttered quietly.  “It has a smoky flavor I think you’ll enjoy.  Also, where the hell did you learn how to kiss?”

“What?” she said with a smirk.  “Not playing the part well enough?”

She felt his lips ghost over her temple.  “Playing it to the hilt, tesoro.”  His head bent down to murmur in her ear.  “But back off a bit if you don’t want me to really bite you.”  His mouth opened, and she shivered when she felt his fangs scrape along the edge of her jaw.  “You’re testing my instincts, Beatrice.”

“Oh, okay.”  She took a deep breath.  “Backing off, just a bit.  Got it.”

“Now relax.”

“Kind of hard to do right now.”

“Try, because they’re coming over here.”

His hand slipped down to curl around her waist, and he pulled her closer.  She looked past the fireplace and saw Lorenzo and Gavin strolling across the pub.

“Giovanni,” Gavin called.  “How lovely to see you.  You
really
should come in more often.”  She saw Gavin glance at Lorenzo behind the blond vampire’s back.  She had a feeling that Gavin Wallace wasn’t terribly happy to see Giovanni’s son either, and it made her like him, just a little.  “What brings you out this evening?”

“Just out for a drink after dinner.  How is Houston, Lorenzo?”

“Oh,” Lorenzo replied, “it hasn’t given up all its treasures just yet.  I’ll be around for a while.  Don’t worry.”

“I don’t.  Worry, that is.”

“Good to know.”

She glanced between the two vampires as they stared at each other.  She was trying to observe them while still looking vapid.  She wasn’t quite sure how well she did, but by the carefully controlled smirk on Gavin’s face, and the twinkle in his eyes when he caught her notice, she wasn’t very convincing as Giovanni’s brainless meal.

“Your drinks, Dr. Vecchio.”  The server placed the two glasses of amber whisky on the coffee table in front of them.

“Well,” Gavin said, “we’ll let you enjoy your drinks.  Excellent choices for both of you.  You must have very discerning palates.”  He winked at Beatrice behind Lorenzo’s back and mouthed ‘call me’ to Giovanni with a slight frown.

“Goodbye for now,” Lorenzo said.  “I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Looking forward to catching up.”

They walked away, and Giovanni and Beatrice both lifted their drinks.

“Cheers,” she muttered and clinked the edge of her glass with his before she took a sip.  “Here’s to fooling no one.”

Chapter Eighteen

Houston, Texas

June 2004

“
W
hat’s that?”

He turned, embarrassed when she walked into the kitchen.  Carl waved to him from the door then walked outside to make his rounds around the house.

“This is…a cake.”

“You like cake?”

He frowned.  “I was told you do.”

Beatrice’s mouth dropped open in shock.  “You got me a cake?”

“You’ve just graduated, and your grandmother isn’t here.”  He cleared his throat.  “I called Caspar.  He suggested a cake.  I’m sorry if it’s—”

“I love it.”

The corner of his mouth lifted.  He was pleased she was happy with the gesture, even if she hadn’t tried the cake yet.  “Your grandmother informed Caspar that your favorite flavor was lemon cake.  I’ll confess, I ordered it.  I can’t imagine you want me baking anything.”

Beatrice grinned and set her school bag down before she walked over to join him at the counter.

“It’d be kind of cool to see you try to cook something with your hands, though.”

He snorted and turned to take the small lemon cake out of the pink box.

“Have you ever done that?  Cooked something with your fire?”

He shook his head and chuckled.  “Not anything you’d want to eat, Beatrice.”

“What?  Why—oh
ew
!  You’ve killed things that way, haven’t you?”

He shrugged.  “What did you think when Carwyn said I liked my enemies ‘extra crispy?’”

“I’ll admit.  I chose not to think about that too closely.”

“Stick around for five hundred years or so, and you’re bound to make a few enemies.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  She peeked over his shoulder and smiled.

Giovanni winked as he cut a piece of cake.  He placed it on a small plate, and handed it to her.  “Now, wait just a moment…”

He walked to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of champagne, which he twisted open before he grabbed two flutes from the butler’s pantry.

“Come now.  Dining room.  You can’t have your graduation cake standing in the kitchen.”

She followed him to the dining room table, and Giovanni quickly flicked small flames toward the white tapers Caspar kept out.  He poured the wine for them both and sat down next to her.

Lifting a glass, he toasted.  “To you, Beatrice De Novo.  Congratulations on your college graduation.”

“Thanks!”  She blushed with pleasure as she sipped the champagne and took a bite of cake.  “It’s delicious.”

He nodded in satisfaction as he sipped the champagne.  “Excellent.”

“Do you want a bite?”

“Probably not.  Most things with refined sugar are far too sweet for my taste.”

“Really?” She cocked her head to the side in an adorable gesture.

“Yes, they didn’t have anything that sweet when I was human.  Not that I remember.  Well…honey maybe.  That’s very sweet.  Or fruit.  I still eat that occasionally.  I like some fruits.”

She smiled and leaned forward, propping her chin in her hand.  “Really?  Like what?”

Giovanni frowned as he tried to think of the last person who had asked him personal questions.  For some reason, he liked the feeling of sharing his likes and dislikes with her.  “I like figs, fresh ones.  And…apricots.”

She smiled.  “I like apricots, too.”

“What are your favorite foods?”

She took another sip of champagne, and he watched the glass rise to her lips.  He wondered if they were sweet from eating the cake.

“I like spicy things.  Anything with chiles, especially my grandmother’s food.  And chocolate, but just dark chocolate.”

He smiled.  “I never tasted chocolate as a human.  The new world had just been discovered, though I wasn’t aware of it at the time.”

Her mouth dropped open.  “Wow, I guess not.  So no tomatoes for you, either.”

He shook his head.  “No tomatoes or corn…or potatoes, for that matter.”

“It’s so funny because we think of tomatoes as an Italian food now.”

“Oh,” he chuckled a little.  “The food I ate as a child is very different from what is common in Italy now.”

“Really?”

“Yes.  Things were cooked more heavily.  Lots of stews.  I like modern food more.  There are more ingredients and spices, and things to choose from.”

“Yeah,” she smiled sweetly.  “I guess we’re pretty lucky.”

“Very lucky, Beatrice.”

She sipped her champagne.  “This is really good, by the way.  What kind of champagne is it?”

He twisted the bottle so she could see the label.  “This is Dom Pérignon.”

She snorted a little, catching the wine that wanted to escape her mouth before she carefully swallowed.  “Isn’t that, like, super expensive?”

“This one was quite reasonable.  I got it from the cellar.  One of Caspar’s, a 1985 vintage.  I think he acquired it for around four hundred or so.”

“A bottle?” she squeaked.

He shrugged.  “Drink up.  I have plenty of money.  I might as well spend it on people and things I enjoy.”

She was still eyeing the bubbling glass with trepidation.  He rolled his eyes.

“Beatrice, just drink the champagne.  I’ll never be able to finish all of it myself, and it’s your graduation.”

Smiling a little, she took a tentative sip.

“Still good?”

She nodded and took another bite of her cake.

“Did you always have a lot?” she asked.

“Of money?  Except for a brief period of my life, yes.  I’ve had a very long time to acquire it, as you can imagine.  I have extensive investments and property, as well as what money I make working for clients, which isn’t insignificant.”

“Investments?  Cool.  I know all about the stock market.  My grandfather and I always used to play with it.”

He laughed.  “Really?  That’s a rather unusual past time.  No fishing?  Dollhouses?”

“No,” she laughed along with him.  “I think he did it instead of gambling, to be honest.  If it wasn’t the stock market, it would have been the race track.  I got to be better at it than him, though.”

“Were you?”

“Oh yeah, I’m pretty good.  Ask my grandma.  I invest all her money for her.”

“And do you have money of your own invested?”

She nodded.  “That’s why I don’t have any student loans.  My grandpa and I invested all the money from my father’s estate.  There wasn’t much, but it was years ago, and once online trading became more common, it was easy to play around with it.  Online markets are great, and I pay a lot less in broker fees now.”

He smiled in delight.  “I should probably let you take a look at my financial portfolio.”

“You should,” she muttered as she took another bite of cake.  “I could probably shift some of your stuff around and have you making double what you are now.  Unless you’ve got a really good broker.  Are you diversified into foreign markets or currencies?”

“I…don’t know.”  He honestly had very little idea where most of his money was, other than the cache of gold he kept with him.

“You really need to be taking advantage of all the online trading there is now.  I could show Caspar how to do it.”

“I’ll let him know.”

“Cool.”  She smiled a little and took another drink of champagne.  “It’s pretty fun.”

“And you do all of it on the computer now?”

“Yep.”

He cocked his head and watched her, intrigued by the facets of her mind.  “How did you learn so much about computers?”

Her smile fell, and she shrugged.  “Antisocial teenager.  I got one for my room, and my grandparents…well, they knew I liked being by myself, so they just left me to it.”  She cleared her throat and looked down at the table.  “It was the place I felt most comfortable.  On my computer.  Or in my books.”

“I’m sure your grandparents were happy you had it,” he said, suddenly wishing he could ease the memory of the lonely child he saw behind her eyes.

“Good thing for you I did, right?  You needed a computer whiz on staff.”

“I most certainly did,” he said with a smile and a nod.

They were quiet for a few minutes as Beatrice finished her cake.  Giovanni poured another glass of champagne for them both.

“Gio?”

“Yes?”

“Why does Lorenzo want my father?”

He frowned, wishing she hadn’t brought the topic up.  “I’m sure he wants him back purely because he got away, to begin with.  And I suspect he took something.  Possibly something from the collection.”

“Why would he do that?”

It was an excellent question; one Giovanni has asked himself many times.

“I don’t know.”

“And why would Lorenzo have killed him?”

The memory ambushed him; he could almost hear his father’s voice.

“What do you hold in your hands?”

“A book.”

“No, you hold knowledge…and knowledge is power.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

He shook his head.

“I…it could have been as simple as your father asking the wrong question to the wrong person, Beatrice.  If Lorenzo considered him a threat, your father had no chance.  It’s more curious why he turned him, to be honest.  For that, I think he must have had some use, though I don’t know what it might be.  Otherwise, he would have just killed him.”

He saw a tear shining in her eye, but she brushed it away.

“It probably would have been better if he had, right?  If Lorenzo had just killed him?”

“Don’t say that,” he murmured with a frown.  “I’m not going to say that your father has had an easy start, but if this current problem can be solved, he can go on to live a wonderful, long life.”

“If we can even find him.”

He took a breath and put on a smile.  “I’ll find him.  I’m waiting to hear from someone very knowledgeable right now.  Someone in Rome.”

“Would your friend Tenzin know anything about him?

“Tenzin?” he chuckled.  “Why would Tenzin know?  She lives in the middle of the Himalayas most of the time.”

Beatrice blushed a little.  “I don’t know.  You and Carwyn always talk about her like she’s some all-knowing seer or something.”

“And you thought—”

“I just thought she might have seen my dad.”  She looked embarrassed, so Giovanni was quick to reassure her.

“We do talk about Tenzin like that.  She says she only sees people or vampires in our circle of friends.  People she knows.”

“But Carwyn said she’d probably had a dream or two about me?”

Damn sentimental Welshman
.  He paused, unsure of what to say and strangely uncomfortable with Beatrice’s uncanny memory.  “It’s…possible, I suppose.”

Her eyes darted around the room.  “Oh, Carwyn was probably just teasing me.  She’s Chinese?”

“Who?  Tenzin?”

“Yes.”

“Tenzin is…old.”

“What, so she’s from way back when in China, huh?”

“Not exactly,” he frowned.  He wasn’t sure where exactly Tenzin was from on today’s maps.  He wasn’t sure his ancient friend knew herself.

Beatrice waved a hand in front of her face.  “You know what, forget it.  It’s her story, right?  I mean, I doubt I’ll ever meet her, but if I do, it’s her story to tell.  I got it.”

He smiled.  “If you do ever meet Tenzin, that’s the most important thing to remember.  She’s very,
very
old.”

“Older than you?  Than Carwyn?”  She frowned. 

Giovanni smiled.  “Carwyn and I are children compared to Tenzin.”

Beatrice paused, speechless as she stared at him, open mouthed.  “How old do you have to be to make a thousand year old vampire look young?”

“Very old, Beatrice.  Tenzin doesn’t operate very comfortably in the modern world.  That’s part of the reason she’s in Tibet.”

“Wow.”

“‘Wow’ is usually a good word to describe her, yes.”

“I can’t even imagine having that kind of life.”

He shrugged.  “It’s not something you
can
imagine.  When you are immortal, you see your life in years instead of days, and centuries instead of years.”

She looked at him, searching his face for something he couldn’t comprehend.

“Are you happy?  Being a vampire?”

He blinked.  “Am I happy?”  He tried to remember if anyone had ever asked him that before.

She nodded.

Giovanni’s mind raced as he thought of the challenge of keeping a constant, iron control over his instincts.  He thought about how much he still missed the sun, and of all the human friends he had seen grow old and die over the years.