This Same Earth

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “Beatrice will share my room, Gemma,” Giovanni murmured.

  He had been sitting next to her on the small sofa, lost in his thoughts and absently playing with the ends of her hair. Upon their arrival, Carwyn and Gemma had taken a few moments together, presumably to talk about Ioan, before Terry and Carwyn had retreated to the study to speak to Terry’s lieutenant about the current political situation, leaving Giovanni, Gemma, and Beatrice in the elegant sitting room to become acquainted.

  Giovanni’s skin, Beatrice observed with perverse satisfaction, was still flushed from feeding from her the night before, and she noticed he seemed quicker than he had been in weeks. His amnis was stronger, as well; she wondered how much his diet of donated blood had been affecting his health.

  “You want her to share your room in the basement?” Gemma laughed, cutting her eyes toward Beatrice. “Surely she will want something brighter, Gio.”

  “We always share a room. We both rest better that way.” Beatrice tried not to sound smug, but she remembered Giovanni telling her years ago that no one had seen him sleep in hundreds of years, so she knew Gemma was probably included in that. She placed a proprietary hand on his thigh and smiled.

  “Well—” Gemma’s blue eyes frosted. “—I’m sure that will be fine.”

  “Tesoro, if you want to rest, I will meet with Carwyn and Terry and fill you in at first dark. Gemma, will you be joining us in the study?”

  “Of course,” Gemma said. “Terry always asks for my opinion. It’s what makes us such excellent partners.”

  “I forgot to offer my congratulations on your engagement. You and Terrance are a wonderful couple.”

  Beatrice could see the flash of hurt in Gemma’s eyes and wondered again how Giovanni could be so dense.

  “Thank you. We’re very happy. I’m sure you can imagine how pleased Father is, as well.”

  “Congratulations,” Beatrice added. “If you could show me to a phone, I have a few calls to make before I turn in.” She turned to Giovanni, still resting a hand on his thigh. “I need to talk to Dez, and I’ll call Dr. Stevens this afternoon.”

  He frowned and reached up to trace her cheek. “All joking aside, I am sorry about your job. I never intended—”

  “Oh, yes you did,” Beatrice laughed. “Don’t lie. You wouldn’t have forced the issue, but don’t pretend like you’re not pleased.”

  He winked at her and tugged at a lock her hair. Beatrice saw Gemma watching them out of the corner of her eye.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’m having job issues. If you could show me to a phone, it would be great.”

  “Of course.” Gemma smiled politely. “Giovanni, I’ll meet you in the study. Make yourself at home. You know where everything is.”

  “Of course.”

  They stood, and he leaned down to place a quick kiss on Beatrice’s cheek before he stepped out of the room. Beatrice turned to her hostess, who had a hand held toward the door.

  “I’ll show you to Gio’s room. We keep one for him since he visits so often. It’s almost like a second home for him.”

  “I’m sure.” Beatrice smiled and tried not to grit her teeth.

  “There’s a phone on the desk in his room.”

  They walked down the hall, and Gemma opened a door that lead to a small landing and a set of stairs that curved down to the plush basement level of the house. Gemma walked at a leisurely pace, gliding down with preternatural grace while Beatrice felt like an awkward young girl trailing after her.

  “Do tell me what dietary accommodation my cook will need for Gio. She’s stocked some of the blood type he prefers, but let us know—”

  “Oh, he won’t be needing anything,” Beatrice said. “He’s taken care of.”

  Gemma halted on the stairs and raised a lofty eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  “Very so,” Beatrice said as she stepped past Gemma and continued down the stairwell. She halted at the foot of the stairs and turned with her hands in her pockets, tapping her boot on the floor as she waited for Gemma to reach her.

  “So,” she said, looking up and down the rich gold hallway. “Which room is ours?”

  “Cat fight! Hiss hiss hiss,” Dez said. “Wish I was there to see it. Damn, how do you get all these good looking men nuts about you, B? Tell me your secret.”

  “My secret?” Beatrice rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. I smell good? At least Gio seems to think so. What about Matt? I thought Ken and Barbie were ready for their dream house.”

  “Shut up, you smelly man-magnet. We’re not moving in together. And I’m just joking. Matt...” Dez gave a dreamy sigh. “He’s so great. He’s so fun and smart. I even met his parents at Christmas time and they’re really cool, too. I can’t believe he was into me for so long and I never knew about it.”

  “Yeah, imagine that. I’ve only been telling you to ask him out for three years now. I can’t imagine what I was thinking. Who would have thought?”

  “You know, some people say that sarcasm is not an attractive feature in a woman, Beatrice De Novo.”

  “Luckily, I don’t give a shit about any of those people.”

  Dez laughed before suddenly turning serious. “So, I’m not going to be seeing you any time soon, am I?”

  Beatrice settled back into the four-poster bed in Giovanni’s chamber. It was decorated in dark burgundy and navy stripes, and rich mahogany furniture graced the room. There was an old-fashioned rotary phone on the bedside table, so she had kicked off her Docs and stretched out on the bed to call her best friend.

  “I don’t think so. It’s not good. I don’t know how much Matt’s told you—”

  “He told me that Lorenzo is back in business. And that he killed one of Carwyn’s kids.”

  “Yeah,” she sighed, relieved that Giovanni had kept Matt informed about the danger. “I want you to make sure you’re not out by yourself at night, Dezi. I couldn’t take losing a friend right now. I’m just…” She pinched the bridge of her nose as she began to feel the tension and exhaustion catch up with her. “I feel like my life is so crazy right now. I need to remind myself that the real world still exists.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “What?”

  “What are you talking about ‘the real world?’ Have you been swept into another dimension? No one told me about that part if you have been.”

  “No,” Beatrice frowned. “You know what I mean.” She paused, looking around the dim, windowless room. “You know, you and Matt are part of my real life and—”

  Dez laughed. “What are you talking about, your ‘real life?’”

  “Just all the non-vampire stuff. I know it’s kind of crazy.”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Dez said. “I’m not an expert in any of this, but how is this not your real life?”

  Beatrice snorted. “Maybe because there’s vampires and villains and mysterious books and constant turmoil and danger?”

  There was a long pause before Dez spoke again. “You could have stayed here, B. Matt told me Gio was having him watch you and all the security he had in place and even about the water vampires you’re related to and everything—which, by the way, seems really cool, you should have told me about that—”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  She heard Dez take a deep breath. “You could have stayed here. None of this was forced on you. Gio didn’t drag you away with him—you went. If fact, if I know you, you insisted on going.”

  Beatrice shifted on the richly appointed bed. “Yeah? So?”

  “I just mean, I know you’re human and that hasn’t changed, but your world is bigger.” Dez paused. “It has been for a while. You just weren’t admitting it.”

  “So, you’re saying—”

  “Vampires and villains, danger and mystery…that is your real world. I mean, if you could forget all this and go back to the life you had before, would you even want to?”

  “I don’t know,” Beatrice murmured.

  “If it meant losin
g Gio? And Carwyn? Or missing the chance to find your dad someday?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I’d never choose that.”

  “Then I think you know what your ‘real life’ is, don’t you? It’s not the Huntington and the harmless boyfriend and a house in the suburbs.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Setting aside the suburbs comment, I know what you’re saying, but I don’t want to lose you, Dez.”

  “Please,” she snorted. “Like you could. This shit is so damn cool, I’m dragging myself along with you.”

  Beatrice laughed, wiping tears from her eyes and swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. “Oh, Dez, thanks for the perspective. I have to call and quit my job later today and I know that’s not going to go well.”

  “Quitting over the phone from thousands of miles away? Nope, I don’t think you’re going to get a shining reference after that.”

  “No kidding. Well, I’m going to tell them it’s an emergency, and it can’t be helped. That’s the best I can do. I have no idea when I’m going to be back in the States.”

  “Tell them it’s a family emergency. Because it is.”

  “Yeah.” Beatrice smiled, looking at Giovanni’s coat, which lay on the back of a chair, tangled with her own. “I think it is.”

  They talked for another half an hour, chatting about mundane details like bills, houseplants, and cleaning out offices; but when Beatrice hung up the phone with her best friend, she felt like she had a new outlook on her life.

  On her real, supernatural, hanging out with dangerous immortals, running from danger, plotting to kill, searching for elusive fathers and hidden books life.

  And she finally felt like she could handle that.

  “I want you to teach me how to fight better.”

  Giovanni arched his eyebrow at her as he stretched on the bed. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You already have good self-defense skills; that’s enough.”

  She sat up and crossed her arms over her chest. She had fallen asleep after an upsetting phone call with her former boss. Though she understood the woman’s anger, Beatrice was longing for her kickboxing class; she really wanted to punch something.

  “Why shouldn’t I learn how to fight?”

  He sat up next to her, raking his hands through his hair before he crossed his arms across his chest. “In what way are you equipped to fight a vampire, Beatrice? You are not as strong nor as fast. You don’t have any elemental—”

  “I know all that, all right?”

  “So unless you’re ready to talk about possibly turning—”

  “So not ready for that discussion, Gio.” She glared at him.

  Giovanni examined her, looking every bit the five-hundred-year old, stubborn man that he was before he shrugged. “Then you learning how to fight vampires is a moot point.”

  “It wasn’t a vampire who kidnapped me from the library. That was an old man with a gun that scared me to death and caught me by surprise.”

  “Beatrice—”

  “It wasn’t a vampire that guarded me on Lorenzo’s island. It was a bunch of humans who were doing his work during the day.”

  He remained silent, staring into the fire with a stubborn set to his jaw.

  “During the day,” she reasoned, “I can be as strong, or stronger, than anything in this world, mortal or immortal. But I need to know more. I have self-defense training, but I don’t know much about weapons or offensive fighting. You know about all that stuff, and I want you to teach me.”

  Giovanni didn’t say anything, and she was beginning to think he was going to just ignore her request.

  “I cannot help you learn to fight.”

  “Why not?”

  He turned with a clenched jaw. “Because the mere thought of harming you, even while practicing, goes against every natural instinct I have! You cannot ask me to try to hurt you when everything in my being tells me to protect you. It is not an option for me, Beatrice.”

  She took a deep breath and lifted a hand to stroke his hair, calming him until she could no longer feel the flair of heat coming off his body.

  “And don’t ask Carwyn to help you. I would end up hurting him, and I don’t want that.”

  She rolled her eyes but continued to stroke his hair, moving further down his bare back as she soothed him. A thought occurred to her. It wasn’t pleasant, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to ask.

  “What about Gemma?”

  “Have Gemma train you?” She could see him tilt his head as he considered it. “Well,” he began, “that idea has some merit. I suppose if I told her to be very careful…If you’re going to insist on it, she would be the person to ask. She’s a fierce fighter, but I know she wouldn’t be too harsh with you.”

  Beatrice forced herself to hold in the snort and focus on her goals. If anyone in the house would go easy on her, it most definitely would not be Gemma.

  “Again!”

  Beatrice blinked back the tears that dripped from her eyes and forced herself up to her knees. Even after years of martial arts training and a week with the vampire, she felt as if she was hitting a rock wall every time she came at her opponent. Gemma may have looked like a “lady of the manor,” but her fighting style was far more “hooligan in the pub.” It was nothing like she had imagined, and she was rethinking her determination to improve her fighting skills.

  “Stand up and come at me, girl. Don’t be so obvious in your attack next time. I saw that punch coming from a mile away. Go for the dirty punch. Always. And hit your opponent when they’re down. There is no such thing as a fair fight.”

  “Fine,” Beatrice muttered as she struggled to stand. Every muscle in her body ached and she tasted the blood in her mouth. She told Gemma not to bruise her in obvious places that Giovanni would see, but she was grateful it was wintertime. If he could see the series of bruises she was hiding under her clothes, Beatrice knew he would have lost it.

  “You think you can take on a vampire? Currently, my lady’s maid has better fighting skills.” Gemma stood across from her, looking fresh and young in baby blue workout clothes that belied her ferocity. It was no wonder she had survived for over seven hundred years; the woman was lethal. Beatrice forced herself into position again.

  “Remember, throw your attacker off-balance. It’s the only way your small size can be used to your advantage.”

  “Got it.”

  They circled each other, both eyeing the other for weaknesses.

  “I imagine Gio has to be quite careful with you, doesn’t he?”

  “What—” She ducked to the left as Gemma’s arm shot out. “Are you talking about?”

  Beatrice winced as Gemma landed a punishing fist to the shoulder. “Oh, you must know. He was always quite…vigorous if I remember correctly.” The vampire gave her a wicked, knowing grin.

  Bitch, Beatrice thought, dodging the blow Gemma aimed at her chest, only to miss the one that struck her abdomen. She doubled over for a second before she stood, trying to keep a clear eye on the vampire.

  “Well, he certainly doesn’t seem to have any complaints,” Beatrice panted. “At least, he didn’t last night.” When we did nothing but sleep because I was sore and could barely handle an arm around me.

  Gemma grinned as if she could read her mind. “You’re such a sweet little thing. I’m sure you’ll miss him when he’s gone to France.”

  “Yeah,” she grunted as she managed to block a swift kick to her knee. “Because God knows I was waiting in my bedroom, crying, for the five years we were apart.”

  Gemma cocked an eyebrow at her before she flipped backward over Beatrice’s head.

  “Hey!” Beatrice said as she spun around and avoided Gemma trying to sweep her leg. “I thought you were keeping it to human speed.” She darted to the side and grabbed the edge of Gemma’s shorts, pulling the vampire closer as she tried to throw her off-balance.

  “And I thought,” Gemma laughed. “That you wanted to learn how to fight vampires, little girl.�
�

  “Fine.” Beatrice grunted when Gemma punched her side. Even though she was only using half her strength, the blow caused tears to spring to her eyes.

  Gemma stepped back and wiped at a spot of blood Beatrice had spilled on her arm, allowing the human to catch her breath.

  “I forget sometimes that you two are only recently reunited. Terry hasn’t left my side in twenty years, at least.” She darted in and landed a kick to Beatrice’s hamstring. “He’s so devoted.”

  Okay, that one hurt a little. Beatrice was determined not to show any mental weakness before the woman, even if physical fortitude wasn’t an option.

  “You need to toughen up,” Gemma continued. “And you need to get faster. Watch me.” Gemma attacked one of the training dummies in the large studio on the second floor of Terry’s house. Beatrice watched in awe as Gemma laid a flurry of punches, elbows, and even a few head-butts to the dummy in the corner. Though she had slowed to human speed, Beatrice still recognized the utter ruthlessness of the attack.

  “Now, try that on the dummy, and then you can try it on me. After that, you need to run some more; your stamina is still not up to snuff. And be quicker. Make yourself so fast they can’t grab you. If they do, you’re dead.”

  “Fine,” she grunted, approaching the dummy in the corner. Beatrice had been training for over two hours that night. She was exhausted but tried to rouse herself so she didn’t meet Gemma's mocking eyes when she finished.

  She imagined the face of her old boss for a moment, but that didn’t raise as much ire as it had the week before. Then she imagined Gemma’s face, but not even the sneering blonde could raise her out of her exhaustion.

  Finally, she imagined the look on Deirdre’s face when she felt Ioan’s death. She remembered the howl of her cries before the ground swallowed her; then she imagined pale hands restraining Giovanni.

  A cold calm settled as she cleared her mind and focused the way Tenzin had practiced with her. She sprang, first into the combination Gemma had shown her, but she couldn’t stop. She rained down blows over and over until she felt her knuckles slip wet against the plastic skin. Beatrice paused to catch her breath, leaning down and bracing her hands on her knees. As she wiped the sweat from her eyes, she realized her knuckles were bloody and the skin of her knees was torn.