The old man frowned. “Does this guest bring trouble?” He glanced at the young man beside him and thought of all the boys who trained at the monastery school.
The ancient wind immortal only smiled. “And who would dare harm the monks of Lu Dongbin? Your patron is far too powerful for anyone to challenge.”
Fu-han bowed. “We are grateful for the protection of
all
the council, Elder Zhang.”
Zhang laughed. “Some more than others, my old friend.”
The three walked slowly up the stairs after Fu-han waved away the offer of a quick flight from his old teacher. The two friends spoke of the young monks and the school, about the visitor who would be staying with them and the curious book he was bringing.
“I am eager to hear your thoughts on it,” Zhang mused. “You are familiar with its author, though I can promise you have not seen anything like this before.”
“Oh?”
“I need your eyes, my friend.”
“Have you asked your daughter to look at it?”
Zhang smiled a little. “My daughter has taken a vow of silence for many years. She has no time for me.”
Fu-han chuckled. “I will always have time for you, Master.”
“No,” the vampire said as he looked at the bent, old man. “I’m afraid you won’t.”
“I suppose that is true enough,” Fu-han said.
They reached the gates of the monastery to find a group of young monks scurrying about, preparing for their visitors. They were rushing in expectation of their patron and only a few stopped and stared at the three men as they made their way through the stone courtyard and the meeting room, winding their way back into the mountain and toward the library.
The dim hall was lined with books, scrolls, and manuscripts, a mix of modern and new writings, and small alcoves branched off into study rooms strewn with cushions. It was lit by some of the few electric lamps in the ancient building, the risk of fire outweighing the preferences of their immortal patrons.
The young man escorted Fu-han to his favorite corner of the room and left him to go put the herbs and other ingredients they had gathered in the workroom. He promised to return with tea.
Fu-han could feel the eyes of his old teacher on him as he arranged his aching body on the low cushions. Zhang stretched his legs out and relaxed against the cool, stone wall of the library.
“It’s not too late to change your mind.”
The old man laughed. “And spend eternity with an old and creaking body? I was tempted when I was thirty, considered it at forty, but at ninety-eight years?” The old monk shook his head. “I will welcome death when it seeks me out.”
Zhang scowled. “You waste yourself.”
“I move on to whatever is next.” Fu-han shrugged. “That is all. Tell me about the young immortal.”
“He has been hiding for many years, afraid of the knowledge he has.”
“Why be afraid of knowledge?”
“This knowledge is power, and others seek it. His mortal life was taken because he found it.”
“Ah,” Fu-han nodded. That changed things. To be thrust into an immortal life without a choice was a harsh fate. “He is welcome here.”
“I hear him approaching with Lu now.”
“And his element?”
“He controls water, but is not very powerful. His sire was unwise and too prolific.”
“And his mind?”
“Impressive,” Zhang said with a slow nod. “Very impressive.”
“I look forward to meeting him.”
They paused when Fu-han felt the stirring of energy that signaled the presence of a powerful immortal. Zhang rose as Lu Dongbin, patron of the monastery and ancient water vampire, swept through the doors of the library, followed by a thin man in Western clothes. The proper greetings were offered along with quiet words of welcome as the three vampires situated themselves on low cushions in front of the old man, who examined the newcomer.
The young immortal was of moderate height, and his dark hair and dramatic features indicated Spanish or Mediterranean blood. He did not carry himself with the confidence typical of his kind, but his keen eyes darted around the room, taking in the massive library that Fu-han’s order had tended for over a thousand years. He carried a wrapped bundle clutched to his chest that looked like a small book or box.
He was younger than Fu-han, in mortal years as well as immortal, and the old scholar could feel the vampire’s nervous energy fill the small alcove, causing the lights to flicker.
This one, he thought, had not forgotten his own humility. This one was open to a greater wisdom.
When Fu-han’s kind eyes finally met the brown gaze of his guest, the old man smiled.
“Stephen De Novo, you are welcome here. And you are safe.”
En route to Beijing, China
August 2010
G
iovanni Vecchio eyed the impassive water vampire from across the compartment, casually draping an arm around Beatrice’s shoulders as she sat next to him on the plush couch.
“Remind me why he is here.”
She rolled her eyes and refused to answer, so Baojia spoke for himself.
“I am here because Beatrice has a very concerned grandfather who offers her the finest protection of his clan.”
“Are you sure you’re not just homesick?”
The Asian vampire’s face betrayed no emotion when he replied, “Unless we have changed course to San Francisco, I do not understand the question.”
Beatrice snorted and laid her head on Giovanni’s shoulder. “Leave him alone, Gio.”
“I dislike having someone else on the plane.” Particularly someone who looked at Beatrice the way her grandfather’s enforcer did. Beatrice may not have noticed, but the quiet water vampire watched her every move with keen interest.
“You’re overreacting,” she murmured. “Besides, Ernesto wouldn’t send anyone with us who wasn’t on our side.”
He saw an almost imperceptible smile flicker across Baojia’s face, and there was a wry amusement in his eyes when he looked back at Giovanni.
“And it is always beneficial to have another interpreter,” Baojia said in perfect Mandarin.
When Don Ernesto Alvarez, Beatrice’s powerful ancestor whose clan controlled Southern California, had offered to send his child with them to visit the legendary Eight Immortals of Penglai Island, Giovanni could hardly refuse.
Baojia’s prowess as a fighter was almost as well known as Giovanni’s, despite his youth, and the offer was evidence of both how highly Ernesto viewed his granddaughter and how valuable he saw her connections in his world. Giovanni couldn’t deny the offer without alienating a powerful ally and causing a rift in Beatrice’s family.
Though she had initially been intimidated by the silent water vampire, Baojia made every effort to set Beatrice at ease in his presence. From casual observation, the vampire, who was only known by his given name, did not seem particularly intimidating, and his medium build and even features were unremarkable.
But the minute a canny opponent looked into his black eyes, Giovanni knew they would reevaluate. Baojia was one of the most lethal water vampires Giovanni had ever known, including his own sire. His mastery of his element, combined with a natural grace and training in various martial arts, had quickly become legendary. He was known for his ruthless and efficient combat and was also an exceptional swordsman.
The enforcer had monitored Beatrice for her grandfather in the years before Giovanni’s return, and he could tell Baojia’s interest in the young woman had been piqued.
“Gio?”
He looked down at Beatrice, whose eyes had begun to droop. “Yes, Tesoro?”
“I’m going to go lay down. When will we be in Beijing? Do I need to be awake?”
He shook his head. “We’ll arrive mid-afternoon, but we’ll remain in a secured hangar until nightfall. Sleep as long as you like.”
She leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek, but he turned his head and captured her lips. Giovanni heard the small hum of satisfaction she made and the contented sigh when she pulled away. He let his eyes rake over her face, delighting in the slight blush that colored her cheeks.
“I’ll join you soon,” he said with a wink before she turned, gave Baojia a slight wave, and walked back to the secured bedchamber he’d installed in the belly of the cargo plane.
Giovanni watched her go, letting his eyes wander over her supple body and ignoring the instinct to follow her. Then he turned back to Baojia; he still had a few questions for the enigmatic man.
“Why are you really here?” he asked in Mandarin.
The water vampire offered a placid smile before responding in the same language. “As I said, I am here on orders from my father to guard Beatrice. As you have the same goal, I’m sure there will be no conflict. We will… cooperate, di Spada.”
He flinched at the name he had used as a mercenary and assassin. Giovanni had chosen a different name for a reason.
“Please,” he offered a stiff smile, “call me Giovanni.”
Baojia nodded with respect before his eyes flicked to the room where Beatrice had gone to rest.
“So, you are here to guard my woman?”
He smiled again. “Does she like it when you call her that?”
Beatrice didn’t like it in conversation, but he knew without a doubt she liked it in other, more intimate, moments. “She prefers it.”
“That surprises me.”
“Do you think you know her?”
“She’s an interesting human,” Baojia said, avoiding the question.
“She is.” Giovanni paused. “And to what lengths will you go to protect my woman, Baojia? What did Ernesto ask of you?”
“That is between my father and me.”
Giovanni cocked his head. “Is that so?” He looked between Baojia and the door Beatrice had walked through. “He told you to turn her if she is in danger, didn’t he? Ernesto told you to sire her if her human life is at risk.”
A shadow flickered in his black eyes, and Giovanni leaned forward. It was the truth, but Baojia was not pleased by the command from his sire.
“I was instructed to protect her by whatever means necessary.”
Giovanni gave a rueful smile. “Not particularly pleased by that, are you?” He wasn’t either, which was one of the reasons he was so eager to join Tenzin. The reassurance of Beatrice having the protection of another immortal—one he trusted implicitly—was vital to him.
“I have no desire for children,” Baojia said.
Particularly not a human you are interested in.
Giovanni decided he was tired of parrying with the vampire, so he stood up and stretched his tall frame. “I’m going to retire for the day. I hope you’re comfortable on the couch.”
“I am perfectly comfortable, thank you.”
Giovanni grunted and walked to the bedroom door, opening it, then locking it behind him with the multiple deadbolts, safety latches, and bars he used to secure the room. He turned to see Beatrice watching him with a sleepy smile.
“You’re in a mood tonight.”
He shrugged. “I don’t trust him.”
“I think he’s fine.” She yawned, reaching across the bed toward him. He stripped off his clothes and climbed in next to her. Tugging her arm, he pulled her on top of him and began kissing along her neck. Beatrice continued, “As interested in me as Ernesto is, I hardly think he’d send anyone to guard me that wasn’t trustworthy.”
He tugged at the small shorts and tank top she had put on to sleep. Her habit of dressing for bed annoyed him. Sleep clothing was an unnecessary layer, in his opinion, and highly uncomfortable against his skin.
“I’m going to donate all your night clothes to charity,” he murmured against her neck as his hands slipped under her shorts, sliding them down her hips.
“And you know how much Ernesto is scared of you and Tenzin, so I hardly think—”
“Beatrice?”
“Hmm?”
He rolled them over and pressed his hips into hers, smiling when the sigh left her throat.
“I don’t want to talk about your grandfather.”
His gaze traveled from her dark eyes, across her pale skin, and down the slim column of her neck before his mouth followed.
“Okay,” she breathed out.
“I don’t want to talk.” His mouth moved down her body, and he enjoyed the rush of energy that followed his lips and hands as he explored her skin. “At all.”
“Okay.” Her voice was higher pitched, and he smiled in satisfaction as he nipped at the inside of her thigh.
She may not have kept quiet, but he decided he didn’t mind after all.
Giovanni woke the next evening to see her smiling at him.
“You think you’re so sneaky.”
“Hmm?” He rubbed at his eyes.
“I don’t think you wanted me to be quiet at all, Mr. Possessive.”
He grunted and blinked as she propped her head on his chest.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She gave an adorable snort. “I should be pissed off, but—”
“We’re going to a place with far thinner walls and far more vampires, so I suggest you get over any unnecessary modesty,” he said as he ran a hand along her back.
She rolled her eyes at him, and he grinned at the gesture. The previous months had been the happiest in his memory. The move to Los Angeles had gone smoothly for the whole family, and he was satisfied with the security he had arranged for Ben, Caspar and Isadora while they were gone. Matt Kirby and Desiree Riley were aware of the situation, and Ernesto Alvarez had arranged his own security for Beatrice’s grandmother, who had charmed him, to no one’s surprise.
His family was as protected as it could be, and Beatrice was with him. Despite the danger and uncertainty he knew they were facing, Giovanni was content.
“I love you,” he said quietly as he ran his fingers over her skin, causing her to shiver.
She sighed and laid her cheek on his chest. “I love you, too.”
He knew the plane had landed, but he delayed leaving the safe cocoon of their cabin, knowing that an uncertain reality would face them as soon as they unlocked the door. They weren’t meeting the boat to the island until midnight. Her fingers played along his chest, waking him and arousing his hunger. As if she could sense his fangs descending, she moved up his body, tilting her head to the side.