The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (132 page)

“On the contrary, I have even more reason to stay one step ahead of him. My son has this book. If it does what Stephen thought it did, he has a purpose for it, and it won’t be a good one. Anyone who has truly studied it is dead or missing. Anyone who had any sort of understanding of it is gone… except for four vampires that I can think of.”

A strange gleam came to Tywyll’s eyes. “Four, eh?”

Giovanni nodded slowly. “Four immortals, who are hopefully still living. Balanced. One water, one wind, one earth, and one fire. Whomever Geber used in his research knew about the formula, possibly better than Geber himself. If Geber’s manuscript is out of reach, then I will make it my mission to find the immortals who helped author it, and I think Stephen’s contact was one of them.”

Tywyll took another drink. Then he smiled. The old vampire chuckled and slid the brown-wrapped parcel across the table.

“Well then, Giovanni Vecchio, I suppose ye have some reading to do.”

Epilogue

Plovdiv, Bulgaria

March 2011

Dr. Paskal Todorov shut off the light in the empty lab and shrugged on his brown overcoat to face the brisk wind outside. He sighed as he looked around the empty laboratory that had once employed so many men and women making high-end cosmetics for the European market.

Though their corporate office in Rome had given them enough funding to keep the building in good repair and to employ a few of the highest-grade chemists, they had not worked on a new project in months, and the majority of the employees had sought work elsewhere in the city’s growing economy.

He was walking out of the lab and to his warm office late on Friday night to shut down the computers when the lights in the hallway flickered. He frowned and made a mental note to ask the janitor about the wiring. It had been replaced only the year before, right before they had ceased regular operations.

Todorov turned into his office and started when he saw the corporate representative who had visited them right before the shutdown sitting in the chairs and playing with one of the perfume samples that sat in a small beaker on his desk.

“Signor Andros! What a surprise. I was just closing the lab and getting ready to return home for the weekend. I hope you have not been waiting for me long. Did you call the office to tell them you would be arriving tonight? If you did, I am sorry. I was not informed.”

The blond head covered in curls turned. A smirk twisted his mouth. “This is rose oil?”

Todorov frowned. “Yes, it is. The finest Bulgarian rose oil. My country is known for it.”

Andros nodded and set the beaker back in its wooden cradle. The young man had always set him on edge, though Todorov could never say exactly why. Andros smiled, then held a hand toward the doctor’s chair, but no warmth reached his vivid blue eyes.

“I came quite at the last minute, Dr. Todorov. I hope you don’t mind. I am only glad I was able to catch you before the weekend.”

“Well.” The chemist took off his overcoat and sat behind his desk, picking up the silver letter opener his wife had given him for his birthday and fidgeting with the handle. “How can I help you, Signore? I hope that our reports have been favorable. I confess, we are eager for a new project to keep our employees busy. I hope that there has been no irregularity that has caused—”

“No irregularity, Doctor. None. Your records indicate a very well-run lab with seven chemists on staff. Your specialty was in botanical cosmetics, was it not?”

Todorov nodded. “Indeed it was. We had excellent results using the traditional botanicals produced locally and incorporating them into high-end cosmetics. Our products were very well received.”

“And were all the botanical ingredients produced organically?”

Todorov nodded again. “Yes, it is what the corporate office requested. It costs more, of course, but the results and marketing made it—”

“Cost is not an issue on this proposed project.”

The scientist brightened. “So there is a project from Rome? How excellent. The chemists will
 
be—”

“There will be a project.” Andros reached into his coat. “Providing you have ready access to these ingredients produced organically. And you have the quantities indicated.”

Todorov took the paper from Andros’s pale hand and looked it over. Some of the ingredients were unusual. A few, almost medieval. He frowned. “I’m afraid, Signore, that some of these are not produced commercially in Bulgaria.” He glanced up to see the pale Italian’s eyes frost over. “However,” he continued quickly, “most of them are, and the others can be quite easily obtained. In fact, I know of a farmer we have used for specialty products who works primarily for the perfume industry. He can grow almost anything if it is ordered. Indeed, that would be ideal because we could ensure all the ingredients meet your particular requirements for quality. He even has extensive greenhouses.”

Andros’s smile immediately warmed. “Excellent. And when can we expect those ingredients to be ready?”

“It is March now.” Todorov shrugged. “If money is no object, we could, perhaps, have some within a few months. I will have to talk to the grower.”

“Of course, Todorov. I’m so happy I chose you; I was told you had a… flexible mind.”

 
“Oh?”

“Indeed.” Andros rose and turned to leave the office. “We will start production on the formula next winter, if all goes according to projections.”

“May I ask, Signore?” He examined the odd formula at the bottom of the page. “What is it that we are producing? I confess, I have never seen anything like this. It is most…”

Andros cocked his blond head innocently. “Yes?”

“Unusual, Signor Andros. It is quite unlike any other formula I have worked on.”

“Oh,” Andros chuckled. “I’m quite sure of that.”

A niggling fear began to work its way into Todorov’s mind. “Signore, while none of this appears dangerous, I feel I have a responsibility to my employees and your customers to make sure that nothing we produce could ever be considered—”

Andros’s laugh cut him off. “Oh, it’s quite harmless, Todorov. It’s an old beauty formula. A ‘lost secret’ so to speak. It was recently discovered and our marketing team thought it worthy of investigation. The sales pitch alone was enough to tempt them. ‘An ancient formula for health and rejuvenation.’ Buy the wisdom of the ancients for a reasonable price!”

“Oh.” Todorov almost laughed at his own paranoia. “So it is a beauty product?”

“Oh yes.” Signor Andros smiled again and an inadvertent shiver ran down Paskal Todorov’s spine, despite the warmth of his cozy office.

“One could almost call it… the elixir of life.”

END OF BOOK THREE

A FALL OF WATER

Book Four

ELIZABETH HUNTER

The fall of dropping water wears away the stone.

—Lucretius

Prologue

Cochamó Valley, Chile

2011

January

“What’s that?”

Giovanni winked over his shoulder as he backed into the living room. “Another bookcase.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes as Gustavo stumbled into the room. “Ha ha. Funny, it sure looks like a piano.”

“And not one that was easy to get here,” Gustavo said.

“Gio, why did you bring a piano to the house?”

“Because we’re going to be here for at least a year, and I like the piano.”

She shrugged and turned back to the fire and her book.

“And I thought maybe you would like to learn, too.”

She glanced over at the two vampires. “I’m not very musical.”

“I know,” Gustavo said. “I’ve heard you hum.”

“Hey!” She tossed a pillow at him, but he only laughed as he and Giovanni maneuvered the piano into a corner of the living room near the bookcases. It was a small upright, shiny black, and blended nicely with the dark wood and wrought iron, which decorated their mountain home. Much smaller than Giovanni’s grand piano at their house in Los Angeles, she knew he would enjoy playing it just as much.

Beatrice heard footsteps crossing the meadow and rose to meet the visitor at the door. It was Isabel, carrying the bench for the piano.

“They forgot this!” she called as she climbed the steps. “I’m amazed it all made it into the valley in one piece.”

Gustavo walked over and took the bench from her. “We didn’t forget it, woman. We may have inhuman strength, but we still only have two hands apiece.”

Isabel sat next to Beatrice and put her arm around the younger woman. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since Christmas.”

“Fine.” She nodded. “Good. I’ve been doing a lot of reading.”

“Ben’s doing well. He and Father are thick as thieves.”

Beatrice smiled. “Well, that’s not a surprise. They’re about the same age, mentally.”

Isabel’s laugh pealed out and Beatrice saw Gustavo look up, watching his wife with a small smile as he helped Giovanni.

“You’re right, you know; you missed the wrestling match. I’ve never... I don’t think there are words to describe that scene.”

“I was sorry to miss it, but I didn’t want to spoil Ben’s fun by, you know, draining him or something.”

Isabel nodded. “Good point. Nice of you to be so thoughtful.”

“I try.”

Isabel raised a knowing eyebrow. “Really?”

Beatrice took a deep breath and swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat. “I’m... trying.”

Isabel leaned over and squeezed her shoulders in a quick hug before she rose from the couch. “I’ll see you later. If you want a break from this one”—she pointed at Giovanni—“just use the radio.”

“Thanks.”

Giovanni scowled at Isabel. “Why would she want a break from me?”

Beatrice snickered as Isabel gave him a dry look, then pulled Gustavo out the door, muttering under her breath about “stubborn, donkey men.”

Giovanni sat next to her on the couch, tossing more flames toward the dwindling fire, even though it was summer. He frowned and looked into the bright flames, which lit the dim cabin. “So, you really don’t have any interest in learning the piano?”

Beatrice leaned into his shoulder and shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not musical.”

February

“I’m sick of you!” Beatrice threw a copy of
Moby Dick
at Giovanni.

He caught it and slammed it on the coffee table, wincing at the crack of wood underneath the book. “It’s a good thing that was a mass market edition, woman! And I’m not particularly thrilled with you right now, either.”

She stalked toward him, shoving a finger in his chest. He could see her fangs descended in anger and feel her heart racing. “You know, at least you’re not stuck up in this cabin, miles away from any other person. I can’t even visit most of them because I’d probably end up drinking them for dinner! Add to that, I’m awake in here all day with nothing to do but read. You, at least, get to sleep for longer than a few hours!”

Giovanni stepped closer, ignoring Carwyn, who stared at them from the couch with wide eyes. “At least I don’t blame you for things that are entirely out of my control, Beatrice. It’s not my fault that you’re awake most of the day.”

“You don’t even
try
to stay awake.”

His mouth gaped. “You’re being completely irrational right now. I refuse to continue this discussion—”

“Don’t you use the professor voice on me!”

Giovanni saw Carwyn sneaking toward the door. “I’m just—” the priest stammered, “I’ll be...” He slipped out and they paused, waiting for the sound of their friend escaping through the forest.

Giovanni waited for only a moment before he grabbed Beatrice, lifting her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Nicely done, Tesoro,” he murmured as his lips devoured the skin along her neck.

Her hands were already ripping his shirt. “I thought he was never going to leave.”

“Mmm.” He growled as she nipped at his collarbone. “Why is it so sexy when you yell at me?” They stumbled toward the bedroom and Giovanni nudged the door closed with his hip.

“Probably”—she panted as Giovanni tore her shirt down the front—“the same reason I find the professor voice strangely hot.”

“Let’s not question it, shall we?”

March

She sat alone on the porch, staring into the clear night sky. Carwyn had gone back to Isabel and Gustavo’s house to watch a movie with Ben, so Beatrice sat, holding the printout of the e-mail from Giovanni in London.

Six more days.

It was the longest they had ever been apart since he had returned to her. Three weeks. Considering they could be together for hundreds, if not thousands of years, Beatrice knew she should probably be grateful for the solitude.

Six more days.

She sensed Isabel coming through the trees. Even though they could move swiftly, it was considered rude to just appear at someone’s doorstep in the quiet valley commune. So even vampires usually approached at human speed unless there was an emergency, or they were expected.

Isabel said not a word as she sat next to Beatrice on the carved wooden bench that Gustavo had made for them as a wedding present.