The Raven (36 page)

R
aven paced the floor of William’s bedroom until fatigue dictated she sit down. It had been an evening of revelations.

She’d discovered there were humans who voluntarily offered themselves to vampyres on a regular basis at a club. Whatever judgment she was tempted to pass on the pathology of others was tempered by her own willingness to offer herself to William.

He’d fed from her and she’d enjoyed it. Even now, as she stood in his bedroom, she fingered the wound in her neck, craving the experience. It had been so sensual, so ecstatic; she would let him feed from her again and again, possibly without limit.

Her desires disturbed her.

Over on the divan sat two of her sketches—the one she’d done of William from memory and the one she’d done of Allegra as the second Grace. William must have placed them there.

Put together in that way, Allegra and William made a handsome couple. But he hadn’t loved her and she’d been so horrified to learn he was a vampyre, she’d committed suicide.

Raven thought of how high Giotto’s bell tower was and cringed.

Aoibhe must have known the true story, for she’d mentioned Allegra, if only obliquely. Now Aoibhe herself was dead.

Raven didn’t mourn her, but she felt something at having witnessed her death. To be hunted, cornered, killed, and left to rot in an alley . . .

If animals were accorded certain ethical treatment, why shouldn’t a vampyre be accorded that same treatment? Vampyres were, like human beings, a kind of animal. They seemed to feel pain.

Raven lifted a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around herself like a shroud. There had been altogether too much death that evening. Bodies and blood and mindless killing.

William had massacred the hunters.

If she’d ever had a doubt as to his strength or abilities, she had none now. He was dangerous, he was lethal, and he had no compunction about killing. She shuddered when she thought about his quiet rage being unleashed on the Emersons.

Raven would have preferred that William knock the hunters unconscious, or evade them, rather than kill them. But she had to admit it was unlikely they would accept a warning to stay out of the city. They’d come to Florence to kill vampyres for their blood and they’d assembled themselves with fatal weapons, like an invading army.

William was defending himself, Raven, and his people. Surely that was just.

And he was still out there, possibly being hunted.

After William fled the alley, Marco had appeared. He was busy on his cell phone for a few minutes after he exited the Mercedes, his normally cool facade visibly disturbed.

Marco had helped Raven into the car and sped to the villa, where Ambrogio and Lucia had plied her with food and drink. They’d insisted she take what they said was an iron supplement.

She was still in shock. Although she should have refused the pill, she didn’t, downing it with a glass of water.

It didn’t have any discernible effect. Perhaps it truly was an iron supplement.

She’d taken the longest, hottest shower she’d ever taken, in an effort to clean herself of Aoibhe’s blood. The shower regretfully removed William’s scent and the evidence of his release from her body.

Raven moved the sketches from the divan and curled into a ball on top of it.

She couldn’t lie on William’s bed—on the bed he’d shared with Aoibhe. Perhaps the chemise she’d spoken of was hanging in the closet.

Raven didn’t have the courage to look for it.

She tried closing her eyes, but all she could see was death. Death and the red-haired vampyre.

Aoibhe wasn’t William’s ally. She was his lover. She’d been in his bed only days before.

Raven had been betrayed.

Sickness and sadness wracked her body as she thought of the two supernatural beings together.

It had been a long time since she’d been betrayed by a lover. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since. He’d been out of her league and eventually said so. He made her feel ugly, heavy, and crippled.

She resolved never to feel that way again.

Her first boyfriend, to whom she’d given her virginity, was nice. Nice in the way the color beige is nice—unremarkable and forgettable in almost every way. They’d parted company after a year.

William had brought color to her world, even if the colors were black and red. He’d liked her body—all of it. He hadn’t wanted to fix her.

He’d awoken her body, her mind, her feelings. And he’d done the same with Aoibhe, presumably within hours of taking Raven to bed.

Which meant all his words and all his deeds were lies.

He’d said she was beautiful, but when the mood suited him, he’d taken a truly beautiful creature to his bed. Based on his expression of grief in the alley, he cared for her.

Raven was tempted to place her bracelet on his nightstand and slip out the back door. Fatigue and emotional upheaval prevented her from doing so.

It was only then, with her hand muffling her mouth, that she cried.

W
illiam didn’t return.

Raven woke up several times, both dreading and hoping to see him. He didn’t appear.

It was Sunday. Lucia prepared an extensive breakfast, but Raven merely picked at the food. She accepted the coffee and orange juice, her mind fixed on what she would say to William when he came back.

Ambrogio reported that his lordship was well but engaged in business. He’d expressed his wish that Raven make herself at home.

Ambrogio gave no indication of when his lordship would return.

Raven spent the day with Lucia, examining some of the lesser pieces of his lordship’s art collection, making notes on areas that would require restoration.

By the time the sun set, William still hadn’t appeared.

At this point, Raven was agitated. She wanted to go home but Ambrogio suggested she was safer at the villa.

She knew his suggestion expressed his lordship’s order. While she chafed at it, she didn’t have an alternative. There were probably at least three hunters free in the city and they knew what she looked like. It was best to stay indoors.

Raven asked to be relocated to one of the guest rooms, but Lucia refused, stating that his lordship wanted her in his room.

Raven lacked the energy to argue with her and so, once again, she curled up on the divan.

Just before dawn Monday morning, she awoke to the sound of William entering the bedroom.

He stood by the closet, undressing with quiet, unhurried movements.

“I know you’re awake. I heard your breathing change.” He placed his clothes in a hamper and walked toward her, naked.

She allowed herself the luxury of admiring his form, even though it made her want to weep. “Where were you?”

William wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Hunting hunters. I caught them, thankfully. I caught all of them, hopefully before they informed the Curia. For the moment, at least, the city is free of hunters. Why are you sleeping there?”

She sat up, pulling the blanket from around her and handing it to him.

“We need to talk.”

His jaw clenched. “Can it wait? I’m still weakened from the attack. I’ve been looking forward to having you in my arms.”

“Just cover yourself, please.”

William muttered a curse, but did as she asked.

Her expression softened as she examined his face. “Are you all right?”

The skin of his face was still reddened, as if he’d been sunburned.

He turned away from her. “It will heal.”

“Since you’re resistant to relics, I would have thought you’d be resistant to holy water.”

He gestured to his face. “This is nothing. If they’d thrown it on Aoibhe, it would have eaten through her skin.”

“Why is it different with you?”

His eyebrows knitted together and he looked irritated. “Can we just rest? It’s been a difficult few days.”

“You asked me why I wasn’t sleeping in your bed. It’s because of her.”

“What the devil does she have to do with it?”

“She said she slept here—that she left you with her chemise.”

William appeared confused.

Then a ray of recognition passed over his perfect features.

“She has never visited me here. This villa repels vampyres. She visited me at my other residence at Palazzo Riccardi.”

Raven swore. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? You said Aoibhe was only an ally.”

“She is.”

“You lied.”

“I did not. Aoibhe is power hungry and manipulative, but she’s my ally and she’s been one for a very, very long time. I don’t trust her but she’s the closest thing I have to a friend on the Consilium. I need her support when dealing with those vipers.”

“Support,” Rave scoffed. “You slept with her.”

William lifted his chin. “I don’t deny it.”

“You’ve been sleeping with her while you’ve been sleeping with me, you arrogant bastard.” Raven stood.

“No, I have not.” William brought his hands to his hips.

“She said she left her clothes in your bed only days ago.”

“Aoibhe’s concept of time is somewhat . . . flexible.”

“That’s your defense?” Raven’s voice lifted. “That time is flexible?”

“I haven’t slept with her since we’ve been together. You have my word.”

“Why should I trust you? You told me she was an ally; you didn’t mention you were sleeping together. That’s a lie of omission.”

William’s anger began to grow, his eyes snapping. “You are a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“What’s that?”

“You say no man ever wanted you but when one does—and wants you badly enough to risk everything he’s built for you—you tell yourself he’s a liar.”

Raven took a few steps on unsteady feet, her body clad in a long black nightgown.

“What are you risking? Tell me.”

“I can’t.” His eyes grew shuttered.

“God, William. Just talk to me. Please,” she begged.

He straightened his shoulders. “Some secrets I can’t tell.”

“Why not? Have I ever done anything to betray you? Or hurt you?”

William shook his head.

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”

“Not now, Raven.”

She threw her arms up in frustration. “You’re like a walled city. I don’t know how to get in. I don’t even know what your real name is or when you were born.”

“My name is William.”

Raven lifted her arms in frustration. “You have secret lovers like Aoibhe. I know you feed from humans but you won’t tell me about it. How do I know you aren’t fucking around on me?”

He took a step toward her, his eyes flashing.

“What we share in bed, I’m not sharing with anyone else.”

“Why should I believe you when you keep so many secrets?”

“My secrets are for my safety and for yours. If someone were to realize what I’ve told you already, you’d be in danger. They’d try to exploit you to get to me.”

“I’m already in danger. Being with you puts me at risk.”

“Undoubtedly. Which is why you need to let everyone think you’re simply a pet. I’m convinced there’s a group of traitors in my principality. I’m equally convinced Aoibhe is not one of them. That’s why I need her help.”

Raven’s eyebrows drew together suspiciously. “
Need
her or
needed
her?”

William reached for her. “I need to explain. She—”

Raven retreated, avoiding his touch. “She’s alive.”

“The hunters shot her with a poisoned arrow but they missed her heart. I was able to remove the arrow and her body regenerated. I also fed her blood from my private cellar.”

“I thought she was dead.”

“If we hadn’t been there, she would be. You saved her life as much as I, Raven, by distracting the hunters. You gave her time for her body to regenerate. And she knows this.”

“Tell her to send a postcard,” Raven sniped.

William adopted a conciliatory tone. “I don’t think the hunters happened upon us. I think someone in my principality informed them of our location.”

“Who?”

“I have yet to discover their identity.”

“Then it could be Aoibhe.”

“If she’d made a pact with the hunters, they’d have let her go.”

“Not necessarily.” Raven’s eyes moved to William’s. “Do you love her?”

William wore an expression of distaste.

“Of course not. The last time I saw her privately, we had an argument and I told her to leave the Palazzo Riccardi and never return. That was long before I brought you here on the motorcycle.”

“But you rely on her.”

“She is the least of a myriad of evils.”

Raven looked stricken.

William watched her cautiously. He saw the hurt on her face. He could hear her heart and breathing, smell her anxiety. But he had no idea how to reassure her.

Truthfully, her reaction had taken him completely off guard. He didn’t have the emotional awareness or experience that would enable him to defuse the situation.

He simply stood, staring.

Raven waited, hoping for a word or caress that didn’t materialize.

She began to feel the icy fingers of despair encroaching on her heart.

“I know what I felt when they shot at you.” Tears filled Raven’s eyes. “I thought they were going to kill you.”

“Cassita,” he whispered, taking her in his arms.

Her tears rained on his chest as he held her, her shoulders shaking.

“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.” His voice broke on the words.

He held her more tightly, as if realizing all of a sudden what her sacrifice meant.

“I’ve been a vampyre since 1274 and no one, no human, has ever come to my aid before tonight. You’ve seen the monster and you haven’t desired death to blot him out of your memory. You honor and astound me.”

Gently, he stroked her hair, brushing kiss after kiss against the top of her head.

At length, she pushed him away.

He looked at her in confusion. “Cassita?”

“I honor you, but you won’t trust me.”

“I just trusted you with my age. I think the better question is, will you ever trust me?” He frowned.

“I’m standing here, William, begging for any truth you can give me. I want to know you.”

He pressed his lips together, his eyes searching hers. But he said nothing.

She looked up at him with tremulous eyes. “Do you love me?”

He took a step toward her, but she held up her hand. “Answer me.”

He spoke softly, patiently. “Vampyres aren’t capable of love. Those feelings were taken with our humanity. As I said, I care for you. I have affection, passion, and respect for you.”

She wiped her eyes and turned away. “I love you, William.”

He froze, his body alert.

“I was drawn to you almost from the beginning. You made me feel things about myself and then I began feeling things about you. That’s why I offered myself to you. I wanted to see how deep our connection could be. When I thought I was going to lose you, I realized that I love you.”

He moved as if to take her in his arms again, but she resisted.

“For a long time, I thought love was not for me. Men who noticed me were few and far between. Almost all of them just became friends with me. You changed my mind. You changed my world. I started believing that maybe someone could love me and I could love him in return. I felt hope, William. You gave me that.”

“Come here.”

“I am not a cripple,” she said fiercely. “I am not a pet.”

“Of course not.” William’s voice was low, soothing. “You’re my Raven.”

“Don’t you understand? If all you feel for me is affection, I am nothing more than a pet to you.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Isn’t it?” She swiped at her eyes. “You feel something for me, but it isn’t love. You say you’ll never love me. All I’m left with is the affection you feel for a friend, or maybe an animal you saw suffering and took pity on.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” His eyes flashed. “I don’t pity you.”

“Perhaps not. But I will never be anything more than a pet in your world. A pet you can’t even trust with your true name. I might not be as beautiful as Aoibhe, or have perfect legs like other women, but I deserve love.”

William gazed at her, his face a mask of confusion and worry.

“I would stay with you, for as long as I lived,” Raven said quietly. “But don’t you see? I’d be miserable. Maybe you can’t ever love anyone. Maybe you can’t love me. I’ll always wonder if today is the day you decide you want someone else and you throw me away.”

“That won’t happen,” he protested.

“You can’t say that. You don’t know the future. But I know my own future, because I know myself. To stay with you, I’d have to give up my hope of having someone love me. I’d have to live with your secrets and my doubts until finally all hope was gone.

“If I stayed with you, William, you would kill my hope.” Two tears trailed down her cheeks. “I won’t let it die.”

“Raven.” His voice was hoarse. “If I were capable of loving anyone, it would be you.”

Raven closed her eyes.

“You say you love me, yet you’re the one leaving?” he huffed.

“I have to.”

He paced the room, back and forth, his hands in fists.

“You’re confused. You say you’re leaving because of love, but really, you’re leaving because of who I am. Because of what I am.”

She opened her eyes. “That isn’t true.”

“This is the way the myth is always told. Psyche will not heed the warnings of Cupid and so she injures them both.”

“Did you warn me not to fall in love with you?” Raven reproached him.

“I told you the story of Allegra. That should have been warning enough.”

“I’m not going to fling myself off a bell tower, William. I’m just flinging my heart overboard, hoping you’ll want it.”

“I want it,” he hissed. “I want you. I will elevate you to consort. You will be a princess among my people. I will shower you with gifts, whatever you desire.”

Raven gave him an empty look.

“Your love would have been gift enough.”

He didn’t have a response for that. He looked around the room, desperate for something, anything that could persuade her.

“I care for you. Didn’t our evening at Teatro demonstrate that?”

“Yes, you loved me with your body.” She gazed at him sadly. “But not with your heart.”

“My heart is part of my body,” he whispered.

“Then love me.”

William met her eyes, then turned away.

He strode to the closet, withdrawing an armful of clothes.

“If you want to go, go. But know this.” He walked to the door. “You are the one who is ending what we shared. Not Aoibhe. Not another woman. And certainly not me.”

He opened the door and entered the hall, slamming the door behind him. The paintings and light fixtures rattled on the walls.

Raven sank onto the divan, burying her face in her hands.

Less than thirty minutes later, Marco was driving her home. She left the sketches on the bed and the bracelet on William’s nightstand.