The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (165 page)

It would never be just academic.

The memories of loss were still fresh as Beatrice made the journey to Castello Furio later that night. Deirdre had left for Genoa. Dez and Matt had finally collapsed in exhaustion. They were both working day and night, trying to help solve the mystery and keep track of Ben while Giovanni was gone. Lucien had also taken to his bedroom. He’d had a bad spell after Deirdre left and drifted in a kind of fugue state he couldn’t seem to wake from. It was happening more and more. Ziri and Beatrice had helped him to bed before Ziri flew ahead of her.

The last place in the world she wanted to be was Livia’s castle, but there was a party that night in honor of the Chinese delegation that Tenzin told her she needed to be present for. After all, she had been named a scribe of Penglai, so she gritted her teeth, took a quick drink from the clueless driver, and headed out of Rome.

As they pulled up to the castle, she could see the glittering lights in the olive trees and the bevy of guards that only seemed to grow with each passing week. Whatever Livia was planning, she was gathering more and more guards. Beatrice debated, but left her shuang gou in the back of the car, tucking a few daggers into her boots, and another in her waistband before she walked through the gates.

The grounds were glittering with immortals and humans dressed in festive red outfits in honor of the Eastern guests. Beatrice was wearing her uniform of black jeans and a T-shirt. She still enjoyed flouting Livia’s snobbish fashion sense. Plus, it was easier to hide knives in jeans and a T-shirt than a cocktail dress.

“Beatrice!” Donatella Conti called her name from across the lawn. Beatrice nodded and walked over. In the weeks since she and Emil had made their tentative alliance, Donatella had proven invaluable. Beatrice knew now that the seemingly frivolous manner of the immortal hid a very keen mind and a vicious loyalty to her husband and his interests. Donatella had cultivated Beatrice as her new pet in the Roman court, and most of Beatrice’s communications to Emil were channeled through her.

“What are you wearing, my friend? What are you doing to me? Jeans?”

“I’m just not into dresses, Donatella.” The Roman vampire leaned over and kissed her cheeks in greeting while Beatrice whispered, “The better to hide weapons, my dear.”

“Oh, Beatrice.” Donatella winked. “You just have to use your imagination.” Scanning the woman’s skin-tight designer gown, Beatrice had to really use her imagination to figure out where Donatella could be hiding anything.

“So, what’s the gossip tonight?”

“Oh, she’s saying she has some big announcement she wants to make.”

“The Chinese delegation still playing nice with her?”

“As far as she knows, yes.” Beatrice had learned through Tenzin that the small trade group, which was headed by Elder Lu’s son, may have been there for business reasons, but quietly, they were supporting Beatrice and Giovanni’s plan to destabilize Livia’s power base. The Roman aristocrat had finally pissed off enough of the wrong people.

“Cool. We need to keep her happy until we hear more from Gio and Carwyn.”

They strolled through the crowds arm in arm, whispering to each other. “Any news?”

Beatrice and Tenzin had told no one outside of their small circle where Giovanni and Carwyn were headed. And no one other than their closest allies really knew who they were looking for.

“We received some information from the factory in Bulgaria.”

“Oh?”

“Which is shut down, by the way.”

“Good to know.”

“There was one shipment, which our sources do say contained a successful sample of the product.”

“Coming to Rome?”

“Headed here, but hopefully it will be detained.”

“Excellent.”

“I’ll keep you informed, but in the meantime—”

“Ladies.”

Donatella and Beatrice both turned to look at the interruption.

The gall.

Lorenzo leaned casually against a stone pillar, watching them and holding two flutes of champagne. He held them both out. Donatella took one, but Beatrice only glared.

“Donatella, you are looking delicious this evening.”

“Oh, Lorenzo.” She let out a tinkling laugh. “You are too kind. And stupid. You are very, very stupid.”

The vampire only lifted a blond eyebrow. “Oh?”

Donatella quickly covered the venom in her voice with a layer of honey. “To not have noticed my friend, of course! My beauty is nothing to her bold style. I am learning from our young American friend. She is so fearless.”

When Lorenzo opened his mouth, Beatrice could see his fangs descended behind his full lips. “I’m well aware of Miss De Novo’s fearlessness. She is a rare treasure, indeed.”

“Your sire is a lucky man, Lorenzo.”

That was bold.
The disappearance of Giovanni Vecchio was the giant, blood-red elephant at all of Livia’s parties. It seemed by mutual unspoken agreement that no one spoke of it. His name was not even mentioned except behind closed doors.

Or by his wife, of course.

She narrowed her eyes at the blond murderer who taunted her with his presence. “Oh, Lorenzo has always been jealous of Giovanni, haven’t you, blondie? Giovanni’s always had more class. More power. More… well, just more.” She let a smile cross her lips.

“Are you sure of that? After all, you’ve never really explored your options, have you?”

“My grandma told me I don’t need to taste piss to know I’m drinking wine.”

Lorenzo only offered her a sympathetic look. “How is your family, Beatrice? I was so sorry to hear about Stephen’s disappearance. Tragic.”

The rage burst forth. “You fucking bastard! You know—” She cut herself off when she felt Donatella’s arm restraining her.

“Come, my friend, let us find more pleasant company. I have a companion with me who would be to your liking, I think. His blood is very rich.”

Beatrice relented at Donatella’s touch. Lorenzo lifted his glass of champagne in a silent toast. As he brought it to his lips, Beatrice reached out and forced the liquid in the glass to expand, shattering the champagne flute at Lorenzo’s lips and opening a small cut at the corner of his mouth. He smiled and reached up with an elegant finger, swiping at the cut and holding the finger out to her.

“Care for a taste?"

She turned her back on him and walked away.

The night wore on, and she managed to find Tenzin, who was crouched on a corner of one of the towers, pouting.

“Tenzin, come down.”

The small wind vampire glared at her and floated to the ground.

“If I don’t kill something soon, I’m going to go crazy.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the patient one.”

“I hate all this shit.”

“You think I don’t?”

The two friends leaned against the stone tower and watched the crowd, conscious of the numerous eyes that followed them constantly.

Tenzin said, “How much longer are we going to have to drag this out? I’m bored.”

“Well, you’re not the one trying to avoid…” She looked around and lowered her voice. “Further complications, so to speak.”

Tenzin switched to Mandarin, which Beatrice could speak passably well. “Would killing everyone really be that bad? I’m not saying it wouldn’t be a pain in the ass to deal with the fallout, but at least you’d have some fun in the meantime.”

“We’re not really in the mood to rule a city, Tenzin.”

“It would just be for a few hundred years.”

“Do you know how crazy that sounds to my ears?”

“You’ll get used to it, my girl.”

Beatrice sighed. “Tenzin…”

“I know. I know.”

They watched the party for a few more minutes, and Beatrice detected a strange energy building among the crowd.

“Tenzin, something—“

“I know. I feel it, too.”

They both walked closer. There were murmurs of excitement. Whispers flew around and a strange buzz of energy enervated the immortals gathered. She felt the approach of a particularly strong energy signature and turned to see Emil Conti approaching her with Donatella hanging on his arm.

“Beatrice.”

“What’s happening, Emil?”

“You young people with your slang.”

“No, really. What is
happening
?”

He blinked. “Oh. I believe our fair patroness has an announcement of some kind. I’m bubbling with excitement, can’t you tell?”

Beatrice’s eyes widened. “Not…”

Emil only cocked a lazy eyebrow, and Donatella smirked.

Livia mounted the stairs of a small stage where a string orchestra had been playing and tapped on her champagne flute to gather everyone’s attention. It was completely unnecessary; the whole party was riveted to her before she even reached the top of the stairs. She was glowing with excitement when she started to speak.

“My friends, we are joined tonight by esteemed guests. We welcome them to the Eternal City. The Immortal City. Rome has long been a center of culture and learning. Of sophistication and enlightenment. I am happy to announce tonight that another achievement has been added to her crown.”

“Pompous bitch,” Tenzin muttered.

“As most of you know, I have been a patroness of the human sciences for hundreds of years. For in the prosperity of the human world, we find our own continued success. I am happy to announce that an ancient secret, a
stunning
discovery has, this past year, been recovered from the lost library of the great immortal, Niccolo Andros. It is in his honor that I announce a mystery of the ages has been solved. Long have humans and immortals sought the elixir of life. The unique formula that would offer our human friends the longevity and health that we immortals enjoy. Now, we have accomplished this.” A buzz began to build among the crowd. “And in doing so, an even greater achievement has been made.”

“She's going to do it.” Beatrice shook her head. “She’s going to announce—”

“My scientists have discovered not only the elixir of life, but the cure to bloodlust, as well.” The buzzing stopped, and an eerie silence fell over the castle grounds as Livia continued. “And it will be available to all of you. This secret is a secret no longer. It belongs to us.” Beatrice saw Livia's eyes light up. “It belongs to the world!”

The silence lasted only as long as it took for the first burst of applause to erupt from the excited crowd. It had to have been the humans in attendance who started it, Beatrice thought. Vampires weren’t usually an enthusiastic crowd. But soon, everyone around them, including the immortals, was applauding and moving toward the stage. Livia was enveloped by vampires and humans vying for her attention.

Beatrice and Tenzin exchanged a grim look, and Emil said quietly, “Look how they gather around her now.”

“Why?” she asked. “All of these vampires are blood drinkers from what I’ve seen. Why is it so important to find a cure for bloodlust? Are they all humanitarians? They can’t all care about the good of mankind
that
much.”

Donatella was the one who answered. “They’re not being altruistic, Beatrice. And most of them enjoy blood as much as we do. But they
need
it. They don’t just choose to drink, they
have
to. It controls us. Even the oldest vampire is a slave to hunger in the end. They all clamor for Livia’s favor, but it’s not a cure they are seeking. They crave control, and she offers it. So more will come.” Donatella looked at Beatrice with a hard stare. “
Many
more will come.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Svaneti, Georgia

Caucasus Mountains

October 2012

Giovanni nodded at the old woman who refilled his wine glass and smiled at the young woman who set down the bread. The women left the room, retreating into the kitchen to whisper quietly about the foreign visitors and leaving the two vampires alone with the three humans gathered in the dark room. Giovanni’s attention was drawn to the head of the family and leader of the small village in a remote mountain valley in Northern Georgia.

The man was seated in a richly decorated chair. Giovanni guessed that it was hundreds of years old, but had been lovingly oiled and tended, a mark of pride for the small village and the man who sat upon it that night. The head of the village, a Svan in his early fifties, was dressed in the curious blend of ancient and modern typical in the mountains. His jacket sported an American logo, but his head was topped by the grey felt hat typical of all men of the region high in the Caucasus Mountains. A long dagger hung at his belt and an icon of Saint George graced the wall. The cold wind whistled around the old house, and Giovanni was grateful not to be out in the wind, at least for a little while.

Carwyn was still exchanging stories with the man, laughing over ribald jokes in Russian, since neither of them spoke Georgian or the strange, old language of the Svans. Giovanni’s Russian was passable, but not nearly as good as the priest’s, so he sat back and listened.

“This region you speak of,” the human said. “No one goes there.” He waved a dismissive hand. “You want hiking or climbing, I will have my son, Otar, show you to some of the lower trails. It is too cold in that part of the mountains anyway.”