The Force of Wind

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “Water loves me.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “I love water.”

  Giovanni chuckled. Her mind was probably so flooded with new sensory information, she was focusing on the one thing that seemed to make sense. He remembered the same feeling looking into a candle on his first night of immortal life.

  “I love you,” she said. She was staring at him again.

  “I love you, too.” As if it was even a question.

  “You’re mad at me.”

  As if it was even a question.

  “We’ll talk about it another time. Now is not the time.”

  “I can agree with that.”

  He saw her staring at the lamps, probably fascinated by the new light spectrum she could see. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

  She cocked her head. “Will it hurt?”

  He leaned forward, tentatively reaching for her. “I’ll try to be very gentle.”

  She nodded, still staring at him. He braced himself on the sides of the tub and bent down to give her a whisper of a kiss.

  “Oh.” She breathed out with a small smile. “Wow.”

  “Didn’t hurt?”

  “No.” She blinked back more tears. “Kiss me again.”

  “I love you,” he said before his mouth met hers in another soft kiss.

  “I can feel your amnis,” she whispered. “It’s like another layer of skin. All over. Moving.”

  “Do you feel yours?”

  He could see her eyes narrow as she filtered through the flood of senses. Then, she smiled and looked up. “Yes.”

  “Soon, you’ll learn how to make it cover your skin like me. That’s what will let you heat your skin, keep your senses manageable, all of that. Your amnis is both a weapon and a shield. A second skin is an excellent way of thinking about it.”

  Even as he spoke, he could see her close her eyes and furrow her eyebrows in concentration. When he reached out to touch her hand, she didn’t flinch. A layer of amnis already covered it and she knit their fingers together, palm to palm.

  “Do I look different?” Her eyebrows shot up, and she lifted fingers to her mouth. “I have teeth!”

  As soon as she touched them, her fangs descended even more, and it took every bit of control he owned not to lean over and lick them. He wanted to pierce his tongue on her teeth and let his blood flood her mouth. He wanted her to sink her teeth into his neck. Into his chest. He wanted her to feed from him as he had fed from her. Giovanni pushed back the growl in his chest and focused on her eyes.

  “Ith kin’ of hard to talk with theeth,” she mumbled, speaking around her descended canines.

  Her strange lisp broke him out of his trance, and he laughed. “You look the same, Beatrice. Just… paler skin and longer teeth. You’ll get used to the teeth.”

  He kept chuckling, and she flicked her fingers at him. A splash of water rose from the tub and hit his face.

  “Okay,” she grinned. “Thath’s going to be awthume.”

  He couldn’t stop laughing. “And you’ll be able to save my shirts if I lose my temper now.”

  She swallowed and her fangs seemed to retract. “Just… all sorts of benefits to controlling water, aren’t there?”

  Giovanni smiled as she leaned back against her side of the tub. He reached for her foot underwater and touched it. She flinched for a moment before her toes relaxed and he set both her feet on his lap.

  “Are you really mad at me?”

  He stared. He didn’t want to argue with her on her first night as an immortal. She would be far too volatile. “There’s no use in anger toward you. It’s done.” He paused. “And I know it was your decision.”

  “Are you mad at Tenzin and my dad?”

  “Yes,” he growled.

  “Why?”

  “Because they were planning this and they didn’t tell me. They went behind my back.”

  “So did I.”

  He sighed and let his head fall back. “Maybe I just don’t want to be angry with you. It’s easier to be angry with them. I don’t like it when we fight.”

  She smiled and reached a hand over to pat his as it lay on the side of the tub.

  “Just as long as you realize it’s not logical. I’m more to blame than they are.”

  “Tesoro, I realized long ago that logic departs me when it comes to you.”

  She grinned again, which exposed her fangs. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned over and cupped her face gently before he kissed her. His tongue delved into her mouth and searched for them. When he found the slick lengths, he flicked the tip of his tongue against them and purred when he heard her moan. She moved into the kiss, and her fangs fell more. They were long, sharp, and slick with the taste of his blood as he cut himself.

  He recognized the moment the blood touched her tongue. She tried to pull him closer, but he pushed her away gently. “Hungry?”

  She nodded, still eyeing his mouth.

  Giovanni wanted to take her right then, but he knew she needed to feed. Plus, the minute she left the tub, her senses were going to overwhelm her again. It would be days before she was even partially in control of her body. He certainly hoped there were no emergencies they would have to deal with. He rose from the tub, feeling her hungry eyes on him as he wrapped himself in a towel.

  “Stay here. I’m going to find you some blood.”

  “No people!”

  He smiled. “I’ve already made arrangements with Nima. She has fresh donors waiting. Nothing to worry about.”

  Her mouth fell open as she stared at him. “Oh, blood sounds so damn good.”

  Giovanni cocked an eyebrow at her. “Well, Beatrice, that’s hardly a surprise. You’re a vampire.”

  She grinned with two gleaming white fangs. “Yes, I am.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Penglai Mountain, China

  November 2010

  “When are you two going to start talking again?”

  “Well,” Tenzin blocked a kick that Beatrice aimed at her left knee by taking to the air. “There was a time about two hundred years ago that he stopped talking to me for five years because I killed one of his servants.”

  “You what?” Beatrice’s mouth dropped open. Tenzin landed a few yards away and rushed her, sliding to her side along the mat as she pulled Beatrice’s legs out from under her. The two women fell into a heap before Tenzin shot up again.

  She shrugged. “He was a very dishonest human. He’d been stealing from Gio. And he was taking advantage of a servant girl.”

  “So you killed him?” Beatrice shook her head as she jumped to her feet, continually amazed by Tenzin’s rather interesting take on morality.

  “He was diseased anyway. And the servant girl was pregnant. He was trying to beat the baby from her by striking her stomach. An entirely worthless human. I’m not sure why your husband was so upset.” Tenzin landed a blow to her shoulder and Beatrice stumbled back and grimaced.

  Tenzin had been slipping the “your husband” phrase into conversation as often as possible. Always with a smirk or a snort. “I’m not sure why he was angry, either.”

  Tenzin dodged a quick blow she aimed at her head. They had been practicing Zhang’s style of kung fu that evening and Beatrice was still amazed that the movements came so naturally.

  “He started talking to me again when I explained why I killed the human. He wasn’t completely unreasonable.”

  Beatrice rolled her eyes. “So you took five years to tell him why you killed his servant?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that kind of explains it, Tenzin.”

  The small woman shrugged one shoulder before her hand reached out and landed a jaw-shattering blow to Beatrice’s face. Beatrice winced, but shook her head and continued to fight, feeling the water in the air automatically draw to her skin as her bones knit together.

  “I hate talking to your husband when he gets self-righteous and flame-y. I gave him a few years to cool off, then I had a rational convers
ation with him. It’s not my fault he always assumes the worst.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop talking to your husband?” Tenzin grinned. “Not really a problem at the moment.”

  “Stop with the ‘your husband’ thing, all right?”

  Tenzin burst into laughter. “I think it’s hilarious.”

  “What?” Beatrice asked as she ducked down to avoid another blow. “That we didn’t feel like sharing personal news that was really no one’s business but ours?”

  “No,” Tenzin snorted, “that you two participated in an arcane human ritual that was completely unnecessary. It’s not like you need a piece of paper. You’re mates.”

  Beatrice frowned. “Do you have to make it sound quite so scientific?”

  Tenzin laughed so hard that Beatrice managed to land a blow to her torso that knocked the vampire to the ground. She skidded and came to a stop near the stream in the practice room, still laughing. Beatrice went to sit next to her and lay on her back, staring out the open ceiling, the roof drawn back to show the sparkling night sky.

  “Was it his idea or yours?”

  Beatrice sighed, knowing she wouldn’t get out of answering. Tenzin was fascinated by the whole situation, for some odd reason.

  “Getting married was his idea. Keeping it to ourselves was mine.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. He’s remarkably sentimental for a vampire.”

  “He’s a five hundred year old Italian Catholic, Tenzin. Of course he wanted to get married. He’s just annoyed that we only had a civil ceremony. Among other things.”

  Tenzin was silent, and Beatrice finally looked over to see her staring at her with a sympathetic look. She reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind Beatrice’s ear.

  “He adores you. You must know that.”

  Beatrice bit her lip and tried to keep the bloody tears from her eyes.

  “It’d be nice if he started acting like it again, you know?”

  The first nights after Beatrice had turned, Giovanni had been perfect. Strong, tender, supportive, he was everything she had needed him to be as she made the awkward, often painful, transition from human life to immortal.

  He had helped her to master her amnis so she could walk around the room without cringing from a gust of air. He stayed by her side as she saw her father and Tenzin again, supporting her through the roller coaster of intense emotions that seemed to be her constant companion. He had been quick to make sure she never had to wait when hunger struck her and made sure that all humans were kept at a safe distance. He had been the steady, quiet presence Beatrice had needed him to be.

  But as the days passed and she grew more confident in her body, as she regained her composure and her control, Giovanni had drawn away, sinking into a shell of polite resentment. They slept in the same bed every night, but he had not touched her in weeks, and he refused to speak to Tenzin. He conversed only in the most polite way with Stephen and Baojia. And only when it was strictly necessary. He was most often in the library, still searching for the key to the elixir formula, or in the Great Hall, strategizing with Tenzin’s father and his allies.

  “Do you think it will be five years before he forgives me?”

  “Please, you’re his wife. He’ll get horny. You’ll fight. The two of you will make up. We won’t see you for a few days. You’ll be fine.”

  She glared at Tenzin. “Thanks, that’s reassuring.”

  Tenzin shrugged. “It should be. I’ve been alive for over five thousand years. If there’s one thing predictable about the male of the species, it’s their sex drive and their fascination with fire.”

  Beatrice snorted. “That’s it, huh?”

  “Most advances in technology occur because they’re either trying to impress women or blow things up. It’s as predictable as the sunrise.”

  The two women stared at each other for a few seconds before they burst into laughter. Even Tenzin was wiping blood stained tears from her eyes.

  “I’m being mostly serious, my girl. He really does adore you. He’s angry right now. He feels like you went behind his back. That we both did—”

  “We did go behind his back.”

  “But it was for the best.”

  Beatrice fell silent, wiping new tears from her eyes. “You sure?”

  “I’m positive.” Tenzin sighed. “Some things just have to happen a certain way. He will understand that in time. And he hates being angry with you, I can tell.”

  “I’m not a big fan of it, either.”

  Tenzin waved her concerns away. “You’ll both be fine. You love each other too much to be angry for long. Plus”—she held a finger up—“you didn’t kill anyone. That’s a definite point in your favor.”

  Beatrice sighed and looked back up at the stars, gleaming and multi-colored in the night sky. How had she ever thought the night was black? It was a million shades, none of them as dense or unyielding as she’d thought.

  Eternal night was a million swirling shades of grey.

  She was drinking a large mug of warmed blood the next time she saw him. Giovanni passed in the hall, stopping when he saw Beatrice and Stephen at the large dining table.

  “Good evening, Beatrice, Stephen. How are you tonight?”

  The mouthful of blood stuck in her throat.

  “We’re doing well,” Stephen said. “Thank you. Tenzin said Beatrice’s kung fu is becoming quite exceptional.”

  “That’s excellent.”

  She forced the blood down, almost choking on the thick liquid as it slid down her throat. He was wearing a pair of grey slacks and a white oxford shirt, open at the collar so she could see the rise of his chest. She tried to read his eyes, hoping that their brilliant green depths might have softened to her since she had risen that evening.

  They had not.

  “I… I’m practicing later with Baojia,” she said, looking down at the small plate of food in front of her. It looked even more unappetizing than it had a few minutes before. “You should come by. We’re doing weapons and water practice.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Gio, are you hungry?” Stephen offered. “The cooks prepared a very mild—”

  “I’m fine, thank you.” Giovanni glanced at her briefly. “I’ve already fed this evening.”

  A thick spike of jealousy cut through her. Beatrice wondered who he had fed from. It was just as likely Giovanni was making use of the donated blood in the palace as she and her father were, but a small part of her wondered whether he would be spiteful enough to drink from a human without telling her.

  Stephen was speechless, looking between the two of them awkwardly.

  “I have a meeting with Zhang in a few minutes. I’ll see you both later.”

  Her father said, “Have a good evening.”

  “Bye,” she said, never looking up and holding in the tears that wanted to escape. She heard his steps retreat down the hall, and she gripped the mug so tightly that it cracked, leaking blood over the ebony table before it dripped to the floor.

  Beatrice rose and rushed to her room, never having finished her meal.

  She regretted skipping her ration of blood later that night when she sparred with Baojia.

  “Shit!” she yelled as he sliced through her arm with the razor-sharp dao. She had been distracted by the burning in her throat.

  “Pay attention before I put another slice in you,” he yelled. “Where is your head tonight?”

  “I’ve got a lot on my mind,” she spit at him as she walked to the wall to replace her dao in its scabbard. “Can we do water practice for a while?”

  “Fine. But only because I’ll probably take your head off at some point for pissing me off. Then I’d have to deal with Giovanni trying to take mine.”

  “Doubt he’d even care at this point,” she muttered as she took off her outer shirt to reveal the black tank underneath. It was skin tight, but since water practice usually involved both of them getting soaked from head to toe, the last thing she needed was
to have wet practice robes flapping around while she tried to move.

  “Let me count the ways I’m completely uninterested in your lover’s spat with your husband, Mrs. Vecchio,” Baojia sneered. “Don’t waste my time.”

  She swung an arm at him, reaching out with her amnis to fling the water from the stream to his face. “Don’t call me ‘Mrs. Vecchio.’”

  “Fine.” He spat out the water from behind bared fangs. “Let’s play.”

  With a quick flick of his hand, she was soaked by a thin wall of water that materialized behind her. She rolled closer to the flowing stream, avoiding the charged air he aimed at her face. Since her change, Beatrice could sense the amnis in the air almost like floating currents that filled the room. And on each floating current, she could send her element. While she was only beginning to understand the force of it, Baojia was an expert.

  The water vampire, though relatively young among his kind, was an expert fighter, and his mental control, along with his control over his amnis, was masterful. He could send a thin stream of energy anywhere in the large room, almost beyond her detection, and the water in the air was drawn to it. If the stream was solid enough, he could send a bolt of electricity through it, rendering her useless until she could manage to throw up a shield of her own to counter the attack. He had shocked her in this way countless times, though she was beginning to get a better handle on detecting the trace of his amnis brushing against hers.

  “Now,” he lectured as they moved through the room, circling each other and trying to use the water in the room to their own advantage, “water tricks are a waste of time. That is Lorenzo’s problem; he’s too showy. Don’t bother with showing off. Over seventy percent of the Earth’s surface is covered in water. It suffuses the air around you. It makes up a portion of every living being on the earth. And you are that element’s master. You can control it. You can manipulate it, Beatrice.”