He walked into the room and stared at the mangled plastic and circuitry. “Is that the new Nintendo portable console?”
“Yes. If I wear thick gloves, it’s too clumsy. If I wear thin gloves” —she held up her hands in light pink driving gloves— “then it breaks in under a half an hour!”
He looked at the stack of boxes next to the bed. “How many of these things have you wrecked?”
“This is the third.”
“Tenzin.”
She kicked the pieces toward the wastebasket. “What else am I supposed to do? I’m going crazy waiting. Why aren’t we flying to Farkas’s house tonight?”
“Because tomorrow he has an event at the winery and no one will be home.”
She let her head fall back. “So we just sedate him or something if he’s in the house. Come on, Ben, you’re a vampire now. You have amnis.”
“Which I’m not going to use on humans unless I absolutely have to.” The familiarity of the argument was soothing. “I don’t know why you find this surprising.”
She sat in a chair and glared at him, her arms crossed over her chest. “I would just like to point out that the man who was convinced he was going to turn into a monster if he became a vampire is still the man with an overdeveloped sense of honor toward humans who don’t deserve it.”
“This isn’t an honor thing. It’ll just be easier—”
“Tell the truth—you don’t even like hunting, do you?”
He leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms, mirroring her posture. “Why would I need to when there are perfectly willing human donors available when I want to drink?”
A slight flush came to her lips. “I bet they love you.”
“I tip well.”
“That’s not why they love you.”
“Tenzin…”
She said nothing, but the raised eyebrow said enough.
“I don’t have time for this.”
She laughed. “Yes, you do. You have time, Ben. Plenty of it now.”
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Hmm.”
“Are you actually thinking about what you’re going to say?”
“I am attempting in this new life to be more introspective.” She pursed her lips. “So far the results have been mixed.”
“What new life?”
She turned her eyes to him, and Ben felt a sudden sense of vertigo. Her eyes were ancient. Too often it was easy to write her off as a mercurial, easily distracted magpie.
She wasn’t.
Tenzin was an immortal over five thousand years old. She’d been born in a time before history was written. She’d seen the land reshape itself and civilizations rise and fall.
He was a child compared to her. Everyone was.
Tenzin walked over, nudged him to the side, and closed the door.
Ben was frozen, still leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Do you know how many nights it has been since you were changed?”
“About two—”
“Eight hundred twenty-six.” She looked up. “I counted.”
“Why?”
“Because we both lost important things that night. You lost your human life, and I lost the one human who truly saw me and wasn’t afraid.”
His chest felt tight. “Nima?”
“Nima loved me, but she always feared me.”
The urge to touch her was impossible to ignore. He reached out and ran a finger under her bottom lip.
Tenzin closed her eyes and let her mouth fall open. Her fangs were long and curving. They never retreated; she couldn’t hide like Ben could.
“What else did you lose?” he asked quietly.
“Peace.”
In that, at least, they were the same.
“I can’t give that to you,” Ben said. I’m still looking for my own.
“I know.” Tenzin opened her eyes. “It’s not your job.”
I miss you.
You’re the other half of me.
You broke my heart, and I don’t know how to forgive you.
Ben swallowed the words he wanted to say. “Tell me about this new life.”
“Are you sure? This really isn’t business.”
“Just tell me.”
Tenzin took a few steps back and hopped on the bed. “Chloe calls them my New Year’s resolutions.”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Is this some kind of self-improvement thing?”
She cocked her head. “Not yet. Right now I’m just trying to find the dead parts.”
A low, silent part of his heart screamed. “Dead parts?”
She didn’t say anything.
“This is what you were talking about before, isn’t it? The parts of yourself you had to cut off to survive.”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
She smiled a little. “Why would I do that?”
“You were my best friend for ten years, Tenzin.”
“Exactly. Why would I do that to my best friend?”
“Talking—”
“Saying something aloud doesn’t make it more or less horrible. I know that talking is helpful to some people, but it’s really not useful for me.” She leaned back. “It’s nothing personal. If I felt like it was useful, I would tell you.”
“Have you ever told anyone?”
She was clearly struggling with how much to tell him. Ben dragged a chair over and sat. He didn’t say anything; he just waited.
“Beatrice knows the basics. I told Nima some things before she died.”
“Why?”
“She was dying and she asked me to tell her. So I told her a story. It was for her, not for me.”
Ben had a feeling that Nima had seen far more than Tenzin gave her credit for. “So what are your New Year’s resolutions?” How do you find the dead parts, Tiny?
“To look inward more.” She looked at a point over his shoulder. “To think about how situations make me feel and not just react to them.”
“Let’s just consider the Nintendo carnage a slip and not a complete fall off the wagon.”
She snarled. “Mobile gaming options for vampires are limited and highly imperfect.”
“You’re preaching to the choir now.”
“When did you join a choir?”
Ben shook his head. “Never mind. Tell me more about the resolutions.”
“Nima left her journals with me, and that is one thing she mentioned, that I needed to not react to things instinctively.”
Ben let out a long breath. “That’s got to irritate you.”
“So much.” She narrowed her eyes. “So very much.”
Ben smiled. “It’s good though. That’s a good one. Giovanni was always really good at reinforcing that. Live deliberately and not by instinct.”
Which was the only reason he was all the way across the room and not on the bed, tearing Tenzin’s clothes off. Being with Tenzin created a gloriously messy set of emotions. He was relieved. He was angry. He was happy. He was very horny. And he was hungry.
While Tenzin appeared completely nonchalant.
“It is a good idea,” she said, “otherwise I would not be doing it.” She looked straight at him. “But that does not mean I regret having sex with you. That was instinctual, but a good instinct. Is that why you came to my room?”
“What? No!”
“Because I know you’re aroused.”
“No. That’s not…” He’d initially come to talk to her about the New York house, but he’d gotten distracted by Nintendo carnage and New Year’s resolutions and… Tenzin.
“Okay.” She swung her legs. “Did you want to—?”
“Right.” Ben jumped to his feet and headed toward the door. “Um… we have a big night tomorrow, so I’m going to… leave.” He turned at the door and her annoyingly perfect eyebrow was arched again. “Bye.”
17
Tenzin stretched back on
the bed and reached for the journal she’d brought with her. It was one Nima had written during a particularly turbulent part of their life together, just after Nima had decided she would not turn.
As Tenzin felt the sun rise, she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift in the fluid space that had become her favorite part of the day.
It wasn’t exactly sleep, but it was close. She felt the touch of a single familiar finger slide across her cheek.
“He still loves you.”
She turned and saw Nima lying next to her. “Do you think so?”
In her dreams, Nima was young again, flush with life and possibilities. This was the Nima before human religion had turned her mind away from immortal life. Her skin was smooth and her eyes were dark brown with flecks of gold that reminded Tenzin of amber. She loved staring into Nima’s eyes. Her face was constantly changing, but her beautiful brown eyes remained the same.
“Look at you.” Nima’s smile was a brilliant crescent moon. “Your hair is so short.”
“Do you like it?”
“It suits who you are now.” She scooted closer. “I would miss braiding it though. I always loved to braid your hair.”
“I am sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
Tenzin thought. “I do not know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I did not deserve your love.”
Nima’s smile turned soft. “My love for you was a gift. It required nothing in return.”
“You deserved more.”
Her eyes teased. “I know I did.”
She stroked the soft, smooth skin of Nima’s cheek. “I am sorry I was not who I am now.”
“You couldn’t be,” Nima said. “You needed to remember that you are human.”
“I am not human.”
“Oh, my lovely Tenzin.” Nima’s hand cupped Tenzin’s cheek, and her thumb brushed over her skin with a featherlight touch. “I was angry and I was wrong. You are the most human of them all, for you have known weakness. If you remember, it will only make you stronger.”
“I miss you.”
“He misses you.”
“But I miss you.”
“You miss him.”
Tenzin closed her eyes. “I wish I had been more for you.”
“You were only who you could be in that moment. Now you are someone else, and he loves who you are.”
“Sometimes I think he only loved an idea of me.”
“What are any of us but the idea of a person in someone else’s mind?” Nima pressed her forehead to Tenzin’s. “Don’t forget: ideas are powerful things.”
They flew under the clouds on a moonless night, their black clothes invisible in the night sky. If anyone saw them from below, they would only see a shadow passing over the stars as they flew southwest of the capital.
The mansion where Gergo Farkas made his home was a restored baroque castle that sprawled across a hilltop overlooking Lake Balaton. Lush forests covered the hill behind the house while gracious vineyards blanketed the slopes in front. All the fields draped down toward the emerald-green water of the lake, one of the most cherished tourist spots in Hungary.
The house was fully restored with bright yellow and cream plasterwork arches and intricate wrought iron running along numerous balconies.
Ben and Tenzin floated at a distance. Ben was looking through a pair of binoculars while Tenzin surveyed the land around the house.
“The north balcony,” Ben said. “The windows don’t look secure.”
“We’ll see,” Tenzin said. “I’ve heard that Farkas knows about our kind.”
“But how much?” It was one thing to know vampires existed. It was a whole other matter to know the intricacies of vampire life along with their strengths and weaknesses. “For now it doesn’t look like he’s expecting any thieves.”
“That could be a clever trap to lure us in.”
“Or it could be he’s an overconfident old man convinced of his own security.” Ben tucked the binoculars away. “North balcony.”
Tenzin spread her arms out. “You lead, and I shall follow.”
Ben sped down to the wide balcony that overlooked the hills and the vineyards. He landed softly and waited for Tenzin to join him. They moved silently over the balcony, which was paved with star-shaped stones.
Ben waited for Tenzin to reach the window, and it did look suspiciously open.
Tenzin narrowed her eyes. “Strange.” She pushed open the window without another word. “Let’s go.”
Ben followed, ducking his head as he entered the wide hallway that led along the north balcony. It was a classic long gallery with artwork hanging on both walls, interspersed with windows and french doors leading to the balcony. Doors leading to what were probably bedrooms came at regular intervals.
Ben turned right and followed Tenzin. She was out of sight, already turning the corner to the west gallery, which overlooked the front facade and grand entrance of the house.
He didn’t hear a pin drop. There were no humans in the house, no pets either if he had to guess.
Maybe a turtle. Turtles didn’t make much noise.
“Tenzin?”
She paused in front of a giant painting and looked up. “Do you think I could take this one?”
Ben glanced up. “No.”
“It would match Chloe’s room. He probably stole it in the first place.”
“Tenzin, it’s like six feet tall.”
“Midnight Labyrinth was bigger.”
He pulled on her sleeve. “Let’s just go.”
“Fine.” She started walking again. “No one is home, but something feels off.”
“I feel the same way.” He rushed through the gallery, scanning all the walls. “You see anything?”
“I don’t even see anything stylistically similar to the icon. These are all modern.”
“Agreed.” He reached the landing that led to the grand staircase and halted. “Oh, I get it.”
“Organized by era.” Tenzin ran her hand along the edge of a rural landscape. Romantic-era paintings lined the staircase, leading down to a neoclassical nude sculpture.
“Icons are going to be on the second floor maybe?”
“Depends. We’ll start there.” She was looking around the massive entryway. “Something isn’t right.”
Ben froze and whispered, “What?”
“Something about the house.”
“There’s no one here.”
“I know.” She floated to the center of the room, turning in place. “Come here.”
“Tenzin, we should really look at the second floor.”
“Just come here. There’s something, and I can’t quite tell…”
Ben floated out from the gallery landing to the center of the room. He had a distinct sense of discomfort. “Okay, I feel it now.”
“It’s too… small?”
It was a ridiculous statement on the surface—the house was enormous—but that was exactly the same feeling Ben had. The proportions of the rooms were off. “Let’s keep going. I think we’re going to find something on the second floor.”
“Okay.”
Tenzin and Ben floated down to the second-floor landing where, instead of a gallery leading around the house, a massive ballroom took up the east half of the residence. Rococo and baroque-era canvases covered the walls of the ballroom, and the ceiling was painted in brilliant Easter egg colors. Decadent gold plasterwork dominated the space.
“I have the same feeling here,” Ben said. “This room is massive, but it should be bigger.”
“I may know what’s going on.” Tenzin walked to the marble fireplace at the north side of the room and put her hands on the wall next to it.
“What are you doing?”
“Come here.” She was a black shadow against the pale blue wall. “Feel here.”
Ben put his hands on the plaster. It was smooth and cool, the paint was perfect, and gold sconces lined the walls at eye level.
“Do yo
u feel it?” she asked.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for.”
“The space.” She put a hand over his. “Feel the space, Benjamin. The air will talk to you now if you know how to listen. Don’t listen to what is there. Feel for what is not there. Feel for the void.”
Voids were everywhere, but as soon as she said it, the disquieting feeling settled and he understood. “There’s a passageway.”
“More than that.” Tenzin smiled. “From the expanse I’m sensing, there are entire hidden rooms.”
Ben turned around in the ballroom, then raced out to the entry hall. “That’s it. That’s why it feels off. It’s too small on the inside.”
“Now we just have to find an entrance.” Tenzin started to search for the seams around the molding. “There will be multiple entrances.”
“So clever.”
“And safe.” She pressed in and a panel pushed out. “Jampot.”
“Wh-what?” He pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “Jampot?”
Tenzin looked confused. “Eureka? What’s the thing you say when you find something? I forgot.”
“Jackpot.”
“Right.” She pushed the panel in and pushed it to the side. It moved silently on hidden tracks. “Jackpot. Let’s look for the real treasure, shall we?”
“Let’s.” Ben ducked his head to enter the passageway.
Tenzin was right. It was far more than a narrow hallway. This was a comfortable, though by no means grand, room meant for the same purpose as the ballroom. Sconces lined the walls, and comfortable sofas were arranged along the walls. There was plenty of room for dancing or walking.
Unlike the formal ballroom though, the art here was much more eclectic. “This is his real collection.” Ben looked at the walls. “The art outside is the public collection.”
“I thought you said no one came to the house.”
“As far as I know, they don’t. But this is definitely the private collection.”
Not only were there numerous erotic art pieces on the walls, there were three-dimensional art pieces, masks, and modern art.
“Wait.” Ben took a second look at a mask. He leaned closer. “Peepholes.”
“Really?” Tenzin pushed him out of the way. “Oh, that’s clever.”
“Or, you know, creepy.”
Dawn Caravan: Elemental Legacy Book Four (Elemental Legacy Novels 4) Page 13
