A Hidden Fire: Elemental Mysteries Book 1 (31 page)

A small smile flickered across Beatrice’s face.  “Really?”

“Really.”  Tenzin nodded.  “Let’s get out of here.  It’s damp.”

Beatrice nodded and looked for Carwyn, but her eyes were caught by Giovanni’s penetrating gaze. 

He was standing at attention, staring at her, his arms behind his back and his shoulders square.  She had the sudden disarming impression that he was hers to command, and an unreadable expression filled his green eyes.

“Whenever you are ready, Beatrice.”

Turning back to Tenzin, she held out her hand. 

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Over the Atlantic

July 2004

G
iovanni watched as she slept, taking advantage of the last moments of calm before he knew she would wake, furious and argumentative.

He glanced around the plush compartment of the plane he had taken from Lorenzo.  The weeks he had spent in Rome manipulating the ancient vampires of Livia’s court, and the necessary maneuvers in Athens might have been maddening, but ultimately they had netted him exactly what he wanted, with a few unexpected extras thrown in.

He shifted closer to her, worried she would wake and relive her captivity with the madman he had sired.  She had refused to speak to him for the most part, communicating mainly through Carwyn and Tenzin.  To say it had not bothered him would have been inaccurate, though he knew it was to be expected after his perceived betrayal.

He lifted a hand, stroking her brown hair in a gesture he knew she wouldn’t allow if she was awake.  He hadn’t had a chance to hunt before they left Greece, but he leaned closer anyway, drawing in her welcome scent despite the growing burn in his throat.

He dreaded her fury when she woke and discovered she was not back in Houston.  She had screamed at him, refusing to board the plane when she discovered it wasn’t going back to the United States.

“I want to go home.  I don’t want to talk to my grandmother on the phone, I want to see her.  I want to go home.”

“Beatrice, we need to get you somewhere safe until we can make sure—”

“You’re still holding me captive, you bastard!  You can go to hell, for all I care, but I want to go home.  Take me home!”

Her words burned, and he’d almost given in and taken her back to Texas, but Tenzin had walked over, calmly placed a hand on Beatrice’s arm and knocked her out, catching her as she slumped into unconsciousness.

Carwyn loaded her on the custom built airplane bound for one of his children’s most remote territories in the south of Chile, where it would be winter and the days would be short.  Giovanni had kept a safe house there for over one hundred and fifty years, and no one but the priest and his daughter’s family knew exactly where it was.

He felt her begin to stir and stopped stroking her hair, backing away from her but staying within arm’s reach in case she panicked.  Tenzin had no clothes that would fit her, so Beatrice was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Giovanni’s black shirts.

She woke with a start, reviving from Tenzin’s amnis and sitting up with a choking gasp.  She searched the compartment with panicked eyes until they settled on him.  He froze, not wanting to startle her, allowing her to take in her surroundings along with his presence.  After a few seconds, her eyes narrowed and she flung herself at him, slapping his face and pushing his shoulders.

“I hate you! 
I hate you!
”

He let her release her anger for a few minutes, finally grabbing her hands to halt her punches so she didn’t hurt herself.  Though Giovanni had not wept in five hundred years, he felt as if he might when he saw her useless rage and the tears that coursed down her cheeks.

“I know,” he whispered.

“I want to go home,” she cried.  “Why won’t you just take me home?”

She tried to hit him again but couldn’t move as he held her, so she twisted away and threw herself on the opposite couch, glaring at him.  He took a deep breath.

“It’s not safe.”

“You don’t know that, asshole.  And I can’t believe you used your mind voodoo on me on top of everything else.”

“That was Tenzin.”

“Then I’m pissed off at her, too.”

She fell silent, staring at a chair in the back of the compartment where he had noticed Lorenzo’s smell was particularly strong.

“What did he do to you?”

“What do you care?”

He rushed over to kneel in front of her at vampire speed, ducking down and forcing her to meet his eyes.

“What do I care?  I have spent the last six weeks doing nothing but trying to get you back, Beatrice.  I spent weeks narrowing down where Lorenzo was keeping you.  Then I spent weeks in Rome and Athens negotiating to make sure you weren’t going to be caught in a war when I got you away from him.  I called on centuries of alliances and personal debts so his allies would not try to take you back or retaliate against Carwyn, Tenzin, and all their families and allies for helping me.”

He sat back on his heels, his eyes locked with hers as he began to see cracks in her angry shell.

“Be angry with me, Beatrice.  Rail at me and slap me,” he said more softly.  “Feel betrayed if you want to, but don’t ask me if I care.  And
don’t
ask me to take you someplace where I cannot assure your safety while you recover.”

She looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes.  They sat in silence for the rest of the flight over the Atlantic, and Giovanni began to feel drowsy as the pull of day dragged him toward sleep.

Tenzin had influenced the pilot, assuring them he would set the plane down in the private airfield outside of Santiago and safeguard it until the sun had set.  From there, Carwyn’s daughter, Isabel, had arranged a small customized plane to Puerto Montt, and after that, ground transport into the interior of Chilean Patagonia.

By dawn the next day, they would be in Giovanni’s safe house in the Cochamó Valley.

Beatrice had slipped into fitful sleep by the time he stretched out on the ground next to her, finally succumbing to exhaustion.

When he woke, the plane was on the ground and she was staring at him.

“I’ve never seen you sleep before.”

He frowned.  “I don’t think anyone has seen me sleep…maybe since Caspar was very young.”  He blinked to clear his eyes.  “He would crawl all over me as a child, trying to wake me up to play.  It’s very hard to wake me, though it is possible.”

“You don’t breathe at all.”

He shook his head slightly.  “I only breathe out of habit when I’m awake…and to smell the air.”

She continued to stare at him, and he lay motionless, letting her examine him from head to toe.  He was still wearing the black cargo pants that had been burned in the assault on Lorenzo’s compound, but he had changed into a clean black t-shirt that was not soaked in blood.

“Why did you cut your hair?”

“I burned it the night he took you.”

“Because you got angry?”

He nodded, but remained silent when she frowned.

“But you traded me for your books.”

He sat up and crouched in front of her as she perched on the bench.  This time, she did not avoid his gaze. 

“Do you really think he was going to leave without you that night?  There were two of his own men in the house and two more you didn’t see guarding the grounds.  Don’t think about what he
said
, think about what you know of him now.  Would Lorenzo have left without you?”

She met his questioning gaze for a few minutes before she looked away.  Giovanni waited to see if she would respond, but after a few minutes of silence, he rose to grab the large black duffel near the door.  He stood at attention near the exit to the sealed compartment, until Beatrice stood and walked over to him.

“Where are we going?”

He held a hand out to her.  “Someplace safe.”

“For how long?”

He hesitated for a moment, but decided to take a chance. “As long as you want.”

She looked down at the duffel bag and then at his outstretched hand.  Finally, she grasped it, and he helped her off the plane.

Northern Patagonia, Chile

August 2004

Six hours before dawn they were bumping through the rough terrain of the Lakes region on the way to the trailhead leading to the Cochamó Valley.  It was pitch black on the forest road, but the skies were clear and Giovanni was grateful they would not have to battle any rain as they made their way to his most southern home.

She had fallen asleep again, nodding onto his shoulder where he had secured her with one arm so she would be more comfortable in the back of the Range Rover.  She’d slept far more than seemed normal, and he suspected it had more to do with stress than physical exhaustion.

He tried to remember back to his first months of captivity after his sire had taken him, but the human memories were so clouded, Giovanni had trouble remembering exactly how he had felt.

As they approached the drop-off for the trail head, he began to feel the familiar excitement he always did when he approached the house he considered home more than any other.

Nestled in the Andes Mountains of Southern Chile, the Cochamó Valley was a U-shaped valley cut by glaciers and surrounded by towering granite peaks.  Its remote location and lush forests had attracted one of Carwyn’s more adventurous daughters over two hundred years before.  Now Isabel and her husband, Gustavo, made it their home, and their clan of vampires silently watched over the small local population.  The incursion of tourism had proven to be a challenge, but not an insurmountable one, as the valley remained reachable only by foot, boat, or horseback.

The Range Rover neared the small turnoff, and Giovanni leaned forward, still holding on to Beatrice so she wouldn’t fall over.  He told the driver to halt and paid him, shaking his hand to make sure the human would have no memory of their trip.

He slung the duffel bag over one shoulder and reached across to lift Beatrice, who remained sleeping.  He walked at human speed, so as not to startle her.  As he crossed the bridge, he felt her begin to stir.

“Gio?” she mumbled.  “Where are we?”

“The last part of the trip, tesoro.”

“Why did we get out of the car?”

“There’s no road into the valley.  I don’t suppose you know how to ride a horse?”

She was still half-asleep and rubbed her face into his chest when she responded.

“I rode a pony at the fair when I was little.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“No matter.  I can carry you.”

“At least you don’t have to worry about breaking a horse like you do a car, huh?”

He smiled, grateful for the sleepy conversation that reminded him of their time together before her abduction.

“I told you once that I missed horses, remember?”

“Mmmhmm, I remember.”

She fell silent, and he suspected she had fallen asleep again, but he felt a small shiver shake her frame.

“Are you cold?” He reached up to feel her cheek.  It was chilled and her teeth began to chatter.

“Kind of,” she said.  Giovanni had bought a sweatshirt for her in Santiago, but in the damp, winter air of the valley, he knew it was too thin.  He began to heat his arms and chest, taking care not to warm up too quickly and alarm her.  She didn’t seem startled, but burrowed into his chest and sighed.

“You’re like a seat heater in a car.”

He smiled again.  “There should be more clothes at my house.  Isabel said she would bring some warm things to fit you.”

“It was so cold in his house,” she murmured.  “It looked like it should be warm, but I was cold all the time.  Cold and damp.”

His jaw clenched and he leaned down to brush his lips across her forehead.  “I’ll make sure you’re not cold, Beatrice.”

“I know,” she said, and he could feel her press her cheek to his chest as he trudged over the muddy ground.  “You’re always warm.”

He could hear the snorting of horses as he approached the trail head.  Walking past the last stand of trees, he saw Gustavo standing between three mounts, who huffed and whinnied in the moonlight.

The dark-haired vampire walked toward them, holding his hand out and taking the duffel off  Giovanni’s shoulder, before he tied it on the back of one of the chestnut mares.

“¿Está durmiendo?”
Gustavo asked.

“No, she’s just sleepy,” Giovanni responded in English.  “I’ll carry her in front of me.  Can you lead the other?”

“Of course,” Gustavo said with a nod.

“Can you stand for a minute, tesoro?”

She nodded, swaying a bit and blinking at Gustavo as Giovanni climbed on his mount.

“
Mucho gusto
,” she said to their burly host, who smiled in welcome.

“Welcome to the Cochamó Valley, Beatrice De Novo.  You are welcome here.”

“
Gracias,
” she said as Giovanni held out a hand.  Gustavo helped her up and soon she had curled into his chest and fallen asleep to the rocking of their horses as they made their way into the secluded valley.  He held her on his lap, making sure she was not chilled as he spoke quietly with Gustavo about local news.