grinned. “ Roman Holiday ?”
“ The Life of Brian ?” Giovanni suggested.
“No,” Tenzin and Ben said together.
Beatrice said, “You two are so predictable.” She leaned back and laid her head on Giovanni’s shoulder. She felt his hand comb through her hair, and she closed her eyes, content and sated in her lover’s arms. Soon, Ben walked up to bed, and Tenzin retreated to the den with the television.
“Everything’s going to be okay in Rome, right?”
“Yes. Whatever happens, we will handle it.”
Beatrice still had the sneaking suspicion that their trip to the Eternal City was going to be far more interesting than Giovanni predicted, but she kept silent. They had to go, and they might find out more about her father’s informant when they were there. Stephen De Novo had received too much valuable and accurate information on his hunt for Geber’s elixir of life for it to be merely coincidence. The ancient city held secrets, and hopefully, a few answers as well.
For almost a year, she had been studying Geber’s journals and jotting down characteristics the alchemist had noted from his immortal “donors” when she found them. With enough time, and with Giovanni’s knowledge of the intricate immortal court in Rome, Beatrice might have a chance of identifying the original four vampires who had contributed to the elixir. If they could find those four, then they were one step closer to understanding the mystery, and just maybe, they would be a step ahead of Lorenzo.
She felt Giovanni’s skin heat up, and he began to nose against her neck.
“More?” she murmured.
“More.”
Chapter Four
Crotone, Italy
1494
Jacopo was starving.
He pulled himself up from the thin pallet on the floor and crawled to the door where a jar of water stood. He had eaten the four thin wafers that had been slipped under the door, but his stomach still growled. The flavorless bread was the only food he had been given in the previous week, though his water had been replenished on a daily basis.
Jacopo reached for the door, pulling on it again before he paced the room. Just then, a timid knock sounded. A few moments later, he heard the key turn, and the door cracked open. He saw the edge of a vivid-blue eye in the darkness of the corridor, and then a mop of shining blond hair poked though.
“Hello?” The boy was small, perhaps ten years of age, and he held a large loaf of bread in his hands. He was dressed in clean clothes, costly: the clothing of a servant in a fine house.
“Who are you?” Jacopo crouched in the corner, watching the small boy come closer. His stomach rumbled as the smell of the warm bread wafted toward him.
“It’s morning, so the master is in his chamber,” the boy said. “He won’t come out until nightfall. I brought this for you.”
Still, Jacopo eyed him warily. “Who are you?” he asked again.
“I’m Paulo.” He smiled and held out the bread. “Master told the servants not to feed you, that you had to steal food for yourself, but no one had seen you, so I thought you might be sick.”
Bits of information clicked into place. The week before, Andros had come to him and told Jacopo that he was strong enough to start his training. You need to be taught self-reliance, Andros had said with a strange glint in his eye. The next morning, there was water when he woke, but no food.
Jacopo frowned at the boy and ignored the gnawing in his stomach. “He wants me to steal food from him?”
Paulo nodded. “I heard him telling the cook. He told her if she found food missing, not to be alarmed, that he wanted you to learn how to escape your room and steal it.”
“Crazy old man,” Jacopo muttered. “Fine, he wants me to steal; I’ll steal from him. And I will learn how to escape this wretched chamber, as well.” Though he hadn’t been forced to steal since his uncle had adopted him, he had once been adept at picking locks. If Andros wanted Jacopo to escape his room, it
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