The Raven (25 page)

She placed her hand on his chest, near his heart.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. I don’t promise to answer, but you can ask.”

“When we were with your people, I heard someone mention something about a mark. What was that about?”

“If you were my pet, I’d have fed from you by now.” He gestured to her neck. “They’d see more than just a bruise. From now on, you’ll need to cover your neck whenever you’re in public.”

“I can do that. I like scarves.”

“You can keep this one. Lucia can buy another.”

Raven lifted her head. “Won’t she want it back?”

“Not if I tell her not to.”

Raven decided not to argue with him. She’d see that Lucia’s scarf was returned later on.

William glanced in the direction of Raven’s apartment, wearing a look of displeasure. “You’d be safer at the villa. As I said, vampyres can’t cross the property line and my security team keeps out the humans. But I promised to bring you home and here you are.

“Tonight we’re hunting hunters. Once they’re disposed of, you’ll have more freedom. Until then, I’m assigning Luka to keep an eye on you. He’ll follow you to work Monday morning and stay close during the day.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“The hunters are human. If they learn I have a pet they may decide to use you.”

“Wait—what?” Raven pushed back from his embrace. “How can a human being hunt you?”

“They use weapons and various tools. They also use subterfuge, which is why I want you to be careful.”

“Do you think they’ll come after me?”

“It’s possible. But most vampyres wouldn’t be lured out of hiding to save a pet. Pets are disposable.”

Raven cringed.

“You are not disposable, Cassita, I assure you.” He kissed her lightly. “But it’s safer for you if I keep that secret.

“I doubt the hunters would target me, in any case. Wise hunters realize it’s easier to capture newer vampyres—younglings, we call them. But young blood is never as powerful as old, which means older vampyres are a greater prize.”

“You inhabit a strange world.”

“No stranger than yours. Except, in my world, everyone is a villain.”

Centuries of betrayal and mistrust flashed before William’s eyes. Even though he respected his Consilium and relied on them in certain circumstances, he didn’t trust them.

No. The young woman in his arms was the only person he’d come close to trusting for years. And he couldn’t bring himself to tell her even some of his lesser secrets.

Raven flexed her right foot, trying to alleviate the ache in her ankle. It occurred to her that the adrenaline in her system must have receded.

“If I were to ask you to heal my leg, would it be your blood you’d

give me?”

William stiffened. “No.”

He kept his arms around her, but moved to look straight ahead.

Raven wanted to press the matter, to pepper him with questions, but she didn’t. He’d already grown cross with her once that evening.

She was grateful he was going to help her neighbor and he was going to let her go. She didn’t want to do anything that might cause him to change his mind.

William released her.

“It’s time. Luka will accompany you and make sure you’re safely inside. He will be replaced by a guard who will watch your apartment from across the piazza.

“Monday morning, Luka will take you to the Uffizi.”

“Thank you.”

She gave him a small smile before picking up her knapsack.

“What, no argument? No protestation?” William gazed at her curiously.

“You brought me into a world where, even blindfolded, I could feel the power and hunger of the beings who surrounded me. Then you told me that there’s a class of humans who hunt you, who may decide to use me as bait. I need all the protection I can get.”

He took her hand and kissed the back of it, holding it gently.

“Noah released the raven and the raven returned. If I were able to hope, I’d hope you would return to me. Good night, Cassita.”

“Good night.” Raven tried to hide her surprise at his remark and the delicate way he’d kissed her hand.

As she exited the car, she was surprised to feel a sudden sense of loss.

J
ust before sunrise, William sat behind his desk rereading the letter Lorenzo had delivered to him earlier that evening.

William tossed the inked parchment on his desk.

His situation had grown a good deal more complicated since he’d written to Simonetta, requesting permission to hunt Gabriel Emerson in her territory.

He hadn’t forgotten him. But he knew the laws concerning illegal incursions and was not about to risk a war with one of his most important allies over a common thief.

Now that he had Simonetta’s permission, he could go quickly, kill Emerson, and return to his own principality in a single evening. But he would not leave his city while it was infested with hunters.

Nor would he leave Raven now that he’d known the pleasure of her mouth.

Her mouth.

His plan to take her as a lover had gone awry. While it was true he hadn’t loved anyone in centuries, he felt something for her, and the feeling was beginning to deepen. He’d hoped they’d be able to explore their mutual attraction and that something between them would blossom and grow.

He’d been sorely mistaken.

Her horror at his proposal and her subsequent offering of herself in exchange for a favor had more than surprised him. He knew himself to be far from noble, but he prided himself in doing the noble thing, just this once.

He’d released her.

But he had no intention of abandoning his plan to seduce her. In fact, his desire for her had increased exponentially.

When he finally had her in his bed . . .

William restrained himself from fantasizing. He needed to clear his mind through meditation and rest while the sun shone. Or at least until it was almost sunset; then he could climb the Duomo and enjoy the view of his city.

It was true that he could walk in direct sunlight, but he found it uncomfortable. Like all vampyres, he needed to rest during the day and clear his mind.

There was a suspicion among his kind that madness descended on those who did not adequately and regularly clear their minds—something about the weight of immortality causing rationality to fail. If there was one thing William needed as prince, it was rationality.

Hunters plagued his city. They’d evaded the search party and murdered two younglings over by Santa Maria Novella Station, draining their blood and dumping their decapitated bodies on the train tracks.

As was their custom, the hunters had taken the heads. If a vampyre head was left in proximity to its body, the two pieces tended to go back together, reanimating the vampyre. Hunters knew that they could fetch a higher price for vampyre blood if it was sold with the head, proving authenticity.

William shuddered to think what the hunters would do to Raven, should they become aware of her. Which was why on a hunting party a few hours before, with Aoibhe and the others, he’d made sure to mention that Raven was safely ensconced in his villa, awaiting him in his bed.

He hoped he’d been believed.

R
aven stood in her bedroom early Monday morning, staring at her new cane.

It had made an innocuous appearance when she’d arrived home after Ambrogio’s visit. On this morning, she stared at it with utter hatred.

Most of the changes in her appearance had been reversed. Her disability had returned almost completely. Her weight had increased so she was, perhaps, a size smaller than she’d been. No one who saw her now would think she’d undergone a miraculous change.

She was angry with herself for enjoying her brief experience of beauty and for mourning its departure. She’d never thought of herself as shallow; she thought of herself as stoic. Clearly she didn’t know herself as well as she thought.

She was also angry with herself for hating her disability. No sooner had she limped out of bed that morning than she’d begun thinking of asking William to give her vampyre blood to heal her leg.

Her willingness to entertain the idea upset her greatly.

Her disability divided her from those who did not have visible disabilities. She knew this.

But in her view, all human beings were disabled in some sense—physically, socially, mentally, morally, etc. She thought that accepting the truth about oneself, and perhaps even coming to embrace it, was the correct way to deal with a disability, not denying it, hiding it, or, God forbid, trying to eradicate it from society.

So it was with scorn that she regarded herself in the bathroom mirror—her sad eyes and downcast expression. She was manifesting the same bigoted sadness she’d seen in others when they pitied her. She despised pity and its attendant low expectations.

Raven paused to note the fact that William had not pressed her to take blood.

He’d mentioned it, but seemed to leave it as her choice. He didn’t seem bothered by her disability. It was almost as if it escaped his attention most of the time. Maybe that was why she was strangely drawn to him, even more so after he’d released her and promised to help Bruno and Lidia.

She limped to the cane and gripped it as if it were a sword, swearing she would accept herself as she was and that she would no longer entertain any thought of healing. The cane itself, new and black, was far more functional than her old ones, especially the one that was still (artfully) sticking out of the wall.

She decided she liked it there and would not remove it.

While she wasn’t sure how she felt about William buying her a new wardrobe, she was grateful for the nice clothes. Lucia must have sorted the items and sent only the larger sizes, because most of them fit, including two pairs of designer jeans.

On this day, she wore a navy dress with matching cardigan and simple flat navy shoes. Obediently, she was wearing a scarf and the bracelet William had given her. She wondered if it had some historical connection to the city of Florence or if it was something he’d acquired during his long and mysterious life.

He’d become prince in the fourteenth century, but had mentioned something about losing hope in 1274. Raven didn’t have time to Google the date to see what was significant about it, but she intended to do so later.

She retrieved her new reading glasses from atop her bedside table. Her old ones had been in her knapsack the night of Gina’s party. She hadn’t been able to find them. Ambrogio must have known her prescription because he’d replaced them—and with smart Prada frames.

She tucked her glasses into their case and made her way to the kitchen table, where she retrieved her new iPhone. Ambrogio had left it for her in its box, with a note that indicated the information stored on her old phone had been transferred to it, along with contact information for himself, Lucia, and Luka.

William’s name and contact information were noticeably absent. From this, she surmised that vampyres didn’t carry cell phones.

(They probably used carrier pigeons.)

Unfortunately for Raven, all the photographs she’d taken of her changed appearance hadn’t been transferred to her new phone. She no longer had visual proof of the healing of her leg, since her old phone was missing.

The absence of photographs seemed intentional. Certainly she hadn’t done it. She wondered what William’s reasons were.

Perhaps he was protecting her. Perhaps he was protecting himself. He certainly wasn’t demanding she maintain her changed appearance. Maybe he truly was attracted to her ordinary self.

As promised, Luka was waiting for her downstairs. He was a large man, standing well over six feet, six inches and probably weighing about three hundred pounds. He was also spare with his words.

When he saw her, he walked in front of her to the door and escorted her to the Mercedes, which was parked around the corner.

During the short drive to the gallery, Raven fingered the scarf around her neck. It was covering William’s mark now. He’d left behind a love bite.

She tried not to think about how pleasurable it had been to be in William’s arms and how sensual it had felt to have him kiss her neck.

She sighed.

He hadn’t mentioned anything about seeing her again when he dropped her off. In return, she hadn’t named a day for their film night.

Her apartment had certainly seemed spartan and lonely next to his opulent villa.

Truly her life had taken a surprising turn when it was clear that her next most likely date would be with a vampyre prince.

“Are you all right?”

Patrick greeted Raven with concern as soon as she entered the office space she shared with several other people. Other colleagues filtered in, chatting at one another’s desks before starting the workday.

She hobbled to her workspace, leaning on her cane. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’re using your cane again.”

Raven shrugged. “I guess the new treatment I was trying failed.”

“You didn’t mention anything about a treatment. I thought your leg improved on its own when you disappeared.”

Raven lowered herself to her chair and placed her knapsack on the floor. “I don’t like talking about it.”

“Right.” Patrick didn’t sound convinced.

He approached her, his hand reaching for her wrist. “What’s this?”

Raven tried to pull her hand away, but he’d already seen the bracelet.

“It’s a gift.”

“From whom?”

“Just a friend,” she said airily. She began withdrawing items from her knapsack and placing them in a neat row on top of her desk.

“The same friend who gave you the other museum-quality piece you had on last week?” He let go of her wrist. “That’s gold, Raven. How much do you think it’s worth?”

“Listen, Patrick, I met someone who’s a bit of a collector. He’s just lending me things for fun. No big deal.”

“Okay, okay.” Patrick lifted his hands in surrender. “I’ll stop being nosy. But you have to realize how this looks. You disappear for a week and come back looking like a totally different person. A week later, you’re back to normal, but you’re wearing expensive gifts. And I’m not talking about things any asshole could buy from Tiffany. I’m talking about medieval and Renaissance pieces that are probably traceable to a collector.”

Raven wracked her brain for a plausible lie.

She offered him a conspiratorial smile. “Okay. The deal is that I met someone. It’s early yet so I don’t want to say too much. He has some money and likes to spend it.”

“So is this the friend who gave you the gold cross?”

She peered around the room, making sure no one could hear their conversation.

“Yes. We’re just getting to know one another.”

“I thought you were going out with Bruno.”

“He had to cancel.” She twisted her hands in her lap.

Patrick’s expression shifted. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” she said weakly.

“But you’ve met someone else and that’s good. What does he do?”

“Uh, he deals in—rare vintages.”

Patrick smiled. “Well, if he ever has any extra, send a bottle over to me. Gina loves that stuff and it isn’t exactly cheap.”

Raven nodded, trying very hard not to squirm.

Patrick moved to sit on the edge of her desk. “Unfortunately I have some bad news for you.”

“What?”

“The head of security stopped me on my way into work this morning.”

Raven clenched the top of her cane tightly. “Why?”

“He saw the tape of you handing me the flash drive in the archives.”

“Oh, no. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Luckily I had a similar flash drive in my pocket that was filled with files I’d been transferring for the project I’m working on. I showed it to him and said you’d been helping me.

“He checked with the archivist, who confirmed I had clearance to copy the files, and that was the end of it. The archivist was puzzled when your name came up, but I covered for you.”

“Thank you.” Raven leaned back in her chair. “I’m really sorry about that. I owe you one. Again.”

“It’s fine. Did you ever find out anything else from those files?”

“I haven’t had a chance to work on it. I know that Botticelli changed Mercury’s hair, along with some other changes that are well documented. But this weekend I was a little busy.”

Patrick smiled. “Busy with your vintage collector?”

She looked away. “Maybe.”

“Good. I’m glad you can get out and have some fun. I saved the good news for last. Professor Urbano was in here a few minutes ago. He wants you to report to the restoration lab. I’m supposed to notify the archivist that you’re no longer working for her.”

“Really?” Raven almost clapped her hands. “Can I go now?”

“He said to report in as soon as you arrived.”

“Thank you.” She flashed him a wide smile and he grinned, hopping off the desk.

She zipped her knapsack closed and carefully stood, leaning on her cane. She crossed over to the wardrobe that sat at the end of the room and withdrew her lab coat, folding it carefully over her arm.

Patrick followed.

“I ran into Ispettor Batelli after I left the security office,” he announced, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“What did he say?”

“He said that the Interpol agent assigned to work with him disappeared last week.”

Raven stopped. “When?”

“The night you had dinner with Gina and me.”

“Agent Savola,” she whispered.

“That’s right. That was his name.”

Shakily, she leaned against the wardrobe door.

She had no idea that it was Agent Savola who’d popped out of the shadows the night the feral appeared. That he was the man who’d given his life trying to save her.

Her stomach heaved.

“Are you okay?” Patrick peered at her face.

“I think so. Why did the inspector tell you that?”

“I have no idea. I saw him talking to Dottor Vitali a few minutes ago. Neither of them looked happy.”

Patrick jerked his chin at her wrist. “For the love of God, hide that. You don’t want to be conspicuous with the inspector walking around.”

Raven pulled her cardigan over the bracelet, hiding it.

“Thanks, Patrick. I’ll be careful.”

Slowly but surely, she made her way across the room and down the hall to the restoration lab, wondering what Batelli and Vitali had been talking about.

Just as she was about to put her hand on the door, she stopped.

Probably there were witnesses who’d seen her, along with Agent Savola and the feral.

Raven didn’t know what to do with the realization. It was bad enough having captured Batelli’s interest in connection with the theft of the illustrations; she didn’t want his attention in connection with Savola’s murder.

And there was also the matter of Bruno’s attack, which William said he had handled. But had he?

She contemplated telephoning Ambrogio with a message for William, but decided against it. She was going to be late for work and didn’t want to upset Professor Urbano.

William was probably resting somewhere, anyway, out of the sunlight.

Raven spent the morning in Botticelli’s world, painstakingly applying a coat of varnish to the
Birth of Venus
.

Professor Urbano had decided that Anja, her replacement, had not progressed at an acceptable pace. There was also some question about the quality of her work. Urbano simply replaced her, assigning her to another project.