The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (167 page)

Carwyn looked confused. “Saba’s son?”

“He must mean because you’re an earth vampire. If you want to go, go.”

Carwyn reached into his coat and pulled out the wine bottle, uncorking it and taking a long drink. “Tempting, but no.”

Giovanni’s heart was racing and he could no longer contain his own flames. He could feel them rushing over his body, and his heavy canvas pants were burning at the cuffs. “He’s going to kill us.”

Carwyn nodded. “That seems to be more likely by the moment, yes. I wonder if it would help if he knew you killed your sire.”

Giovanni swallowed the growl that wanted to leap from his throat when he felt the heavy amnis press around them. He quelled the flames as much as he could before he stepped out from behind their rocky shelter, but the blue fire swirled as he held his arms out. He threw out a burst of flame when he saw the spear of fire heading toward him.

The battling flames met and burst high into the night sky, flooding the rocky slope with red light. Then they stopped, and a great roar erupted from the top of the mountain, as Giovanni’s fire leapt forward. He fought the instinct telling him to strike back and called on every ounce of self-control as he forced himself to pull back. Then he stood bare and smoking on the rugged cliffs as he cried out:

“I am Giovanni Vecchio, murderer of my sire, Nikolaos Andreas! I am sent from Ziri, seeking his friends Arosh and Kato. I ask for an audience with the great kings. I mean
no harm
upon this mountain or the immortals here!”

A gaping silence followed his pronouncement. He could hear Carwyn’s soft prayers coming from behind him and suddenly, Giovanni heard footsteps.

Emerging from the smoke, the ancient fire vampire approached, his black eyes raking Giovanni’s blue fire and his amnis sparking in the air around him. Red flames licked along his ruddy brown skin, and long, black hair flew out behind him. His regal forehead needed no crown to speak its authority, and mysterious symbols were tattooed on the rise of his cheekbones. He wore brown leather leggings, but nothing else except an angry glare. He came to a halt a few meters above Giovanni, hands fisted on his hips as he examined the younger immortal in front of him.

“Did you really kill Andreas?”

Giovanni took a deep, calming breath and pulled his fire back further. “Yes.”

The vampire arched a black eyebrow. “And Ziri sent you?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Are you Arosh?”

Giovanni felt a fluttering wind behind him, and a vampire came to light behind the ancient one. The silent immortal crouched down and eyed him with a feral gaze. The fire vampire reached down and petted the wind vampire’s head as he would a beloved pet, and he calmed. Then the vampire looked at Giovanni, and his mouth turned up at the corner.

“Some have called me Arosh, but I am known by many names.”

“I seek Arosh, ancient king of the East, friend of Ziri of Numidia, and friend of Geber, the alchemist.”

There was a flicker in the old one’s eyes. “Geber, you say?”

“Are you the Arosh I seek?”

“I am.” Arosh craned his neck to look over Giovanni’s shoulder. “You may come out, holy man.”

Giovanni heard Carwyn call out, “Is the posturing done?”

Arosh looked amused. “Yes, for now.”

“Good.” Giovanni heard Carwyn stride toward them, packs clutched in his hands and wine tucked under his arm. “And, strictly speaking, I’m not a holy man anymore. But I do have wine.”

A smile broke over Arosh’s fearsome face. “Wine, my friend, is always welcome. I think I will like you. What is your name?”

“Carwyn ap Bryn. Son of Maelona of Gwynedd, daughter of Brennus the Celt.”

“You are well met, Carwyn ap Bryn. And you, Giovanni Vecchio, if you are who you both say. Come with me, my son will follow us.” He motioned to the wind vampire, who took to the air and circled above them. “I hope you brought no men with you,” Arosh said, “or Samson will kill them.”

Carwyn and Giovanni exchanged a cautious look. “We are alone.”

“Good. He doesn’t harm the girls, but he’s been trained to kill the men.”

“Understood. It’s just us.”

They walked up the mountain, their host skipping over rocks and rubble as he climbed. Arosh made no pretense of human speed, so they didn’t either. As they crested the summit, Giovanni could see a house in the distance. As they approached, they were met with a square tower surrounded by a lavish estate. Lush trees surrounded the home, and Giovanni could hear laughter and music coming from inside. The grounds were lit with torches and gravel paths ran through neat gardens. He could hear a fountain burbling somewhere and a murmur of female voices.

Their host yelled out, “Nothing to fear, my jewels.”

Suddenly, a bevy of women poured out of the fortress, tumbling and laughing over each other in their rush to greet Arosh. They gathered around him, nubile teenagers and lush women of all ages, all stroking his arms and hair as he walked into the house. He pulled them along, kissing their eager mouths and running his fingers through their hair as they made their way into the glowing home.

Giovanni and Carwyn both stood, gaping at the vicious fire vampire surrounded by the crowd of women. Samson, the silent wind vampire, landed behind them, cocking his head when they stared. He held out a hand and motioned them toward the house. They followed cautiously, and Giovanni’s eyes roamed the lavish house and the girls who came out to greet them, grabbing their hands to lead them into the house with cheerful smiles.

“Gio?”

“I’m as confused as you are, Father.”

“Why do I feel like we just found the vampire version of the Playboy Mansion?”

“Because I’m fairly sure we did.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Rome, Italy

October 2012

“Wow, look. It’s another priceless and culturally significant work of art.”

“Stop with your gushing enthusiasm. It’s embarrassing to walk next to you.”

“You’re the one letting yourself go.”

Dez turned and slapped Ben’s shoulder as they strolled through the Galleria Borghese.

“Shut up, you brat. I’m pregnant.”

“You may blame the baby, Dez, but I’m pretty sure the gelato has something to do with it, too.”

He laughed and ducked away as she swung her purse at him. The gallery was mostly deserted that Thursday afternoon, the summer crowds had dissipated to nothing, and the damp weather was making their usual stroll through the villa gardens less than attractive, so they had decided to take in the collection of paintings.

“I’m kidding! Sheesh, I’m kidding. You know you’re gorgeous. I’d still steal you from Matt if I thought I could get away with it.” Ben winked and threw an arm around her slender shoulders as she pretended to pout.

“You’re mean, Benjamin Vecchio.”

“Yeah, but I’m cute, too.” He kissed the top of her head as they continued to walk. “And you really are beautiful.”

The smile spread across her face as she beamed.

“Are you missing school?”

He snorted. “What do you think?”

She laughed a little. “Are you missing your girlfriends?”

“Well, probably not as much as I should be. You know what I really miss?”

“Basketball?”

“Besides basketball, that’s a given.”

“What?”

“Getting my license.” He groaned. “I can’t believe I’m finally sixteen and in a foreign country where I can’t even drive.”

“Aw, Benny.” She hugged his waist a little. “Maybe Gio will get you a Ferrari for all your hard work.”

“Oh, that’s
so
likely! Why don’t you suggest that to him when he gets back?”

They both fell silent after that. It was a subject they tried not to bring up. After the last communication from Istanbul, no one had heard from his uncle or Carwyn in over three weeks. Ben’s world felt like it was balanced on a very thin edge. He could only imagine how Beatrice felt.

“I will,” Dez said quietly. “As soon as he’s back, I’ll tell him how helpful you’ve been. You’re a first-rate hacker.”

“Shhh. Don’t tell B that I’m better than her now. It’ll hurt her feelings.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Dez and Ben had spent weeks sifting through all the information on the hard drive from the Bulgarian plant. Then they’d systematically been going through all the public records of Livia’s companies. It was a good thing that Italian seemed to come so easily to Ben. Between his knowledge of Spanish, which he’d taught himself to read as a child, and his Latin education with Giovanni, he had picked up a working knowledge of Italian within weeks of arriving in Rome. In the six months they’d been there, his fluency had only grown. He and Dez had been a vital part of discovering Livia’s holdings and assets. They were still tracing the money that had funded the cosmetics factory, but so far, the Roman noblewoman seemed to be the only immortal with a concrete tie to the place, which was both frustrating and reassuring.

“You know,” he said. “I was thinking about that German corporation we found that she funneled money through last April, if we could—”

“Hey, this is supposed to be our non-work time, mister.”

“I know, I’m just…”

“What?”

He stopped in front of what looked like a Renaissance era oil painting on wood. “Bored,” he said. “I’m really,
really
bored.”

“I know the computer work isn’t exactly the most thrilling, but—”

“Maybe if Matt would let me, you know, help with some other stuff.”

Dez cocked a skeptical eyebrow in his direction. “Ben, not even
I
know most of what Matt does. He gets information in… slightly less orthodox ways, you know? I don’t think you want to get mixed up in any of that.”

But he did. He stared at the painting of the men carrying the body of Jesus to his tomb. He glanced at the small plaque. Rafael. Then he looked more closely at the painting.

“Hey, Dez?” He tilted his head to the side and leaned forward. “Is that…”

Her eyes were narrowed at the painting, too. “Looks kind of like…”

“Emil Conti?”

“That’s what I was thinking, too.”

They exchanged a glance and stepped back.

“Dez, our lives are really weird.”

“And you’re bored anyway.”

“What can I say? I have a high tolerance for weirdness.”

They had detoured down a street near the train station to check out a bookstore that catered to English speaking tourists later that afternoon. Both were sorting through their finds when the scooter almost knocked Dez over.

“Hey!” Ben shouted at the driver in Italian. “Watch where you’re going!” The driver didn’t turn around or even notice them. Ben turned back to Dez. “You okay?”

She was staring at the retreating man on the scooter with a frown on her face. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”

“What’s the look?”

“That driver.”

“What about him? He was an asshole.” Ben took the bag from her hand and helped her back onto the narrow sidewalk.

“No, not the driver, exactly. The uniform. I recognize—that’s the service she uses!”

“What?” Ben shook his head and wondered how fast they could leave the somewhat rough streets of the Termini neighborhood. “Who?”

“Livia. I’ve been wondering—you know how Gio and Carwyn joke about how she’ll only send stuff by uniformed messenger? Well, it’s kind of true. Back when they were getting invitations and stuff from her—when we first got here—I noticed that they never came in the mail. They always came by delivery. Even that crazy dress she sent for B, it was the same uniform that guy had. That must be the company she uses.”

Ben looked around, scanning the shops along the Via Marsala and wondering how fast they could walk back to the house. Even though the area was improving, Dez was still dressed far too nicely to go unnoticed by the dark, familiar eyes of the pickpockets and thieves that trolled the neighborhood. He looked around and wondered if he should just call for a cab.

“Let’s go check out the shop!”

His head jerked around. “What?”

“The shop! Look.” She pointed down the street. “I can see those same scooters, a whole bunch of them, down there in front of that shop. Let’s just go hang out for a while. If we watch, maybe we’ll recognize someone. Maybe she uses the same couriers and stuff. It sounds like something she’d do.”

He felt a nervous twinge in the bottom of his stomach. “Dez, I don’t really think—”

“Come on.” She tugged his arm. “We’re just going to go watch it for a while. Didn’t you say you were bored?”

He was, but watching a messenger service that was used by Livia, all while Dez was with him, wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. She was already walking toward the shop.

“Dez!”

She didn’t turn around, and Ben had to hustle to catch up with the petite blonde, all the while cutting his eyes at the men who watched her as she passed. He strode quickly to catch up with her, but refused to run. Dez was already attracting too much attention. Finally, his long legs reached her and he pulled her arm, tucking her a little behind him while he slipped his hand in his pocket and hooked a finger in his waistband, flicking the handle of the knife he carried. He saw a scrawny thief’s eyes dart to his, then down to his hand before he turned away, looking for an easier mark.