The Shadow (Florentine #2)

by Sylvain Reynard

  When they parted, Raven felt a good deal too warm.

  William began dancing his fingers up and down the curve of her spine. “Enough of my troubles. What did your sister say?”

  “You’re naked.”

  He barely suppressed a chuckle. “I can’t imagine your sister saying that.”

  Raven rolled her eyes. “I’m talking about you.”

  William’s hands splayed across her bottom as she lay atop him. “Yes, I am naked.”

  “Why?”

  “Why should I wear clothes when sleeping next to the woman I love?”

  Raven’s heart stuttered.

  Of course, he could hear it. “What is making you anxious? Nakedness or love?” His fingers sifted through a lock of hair that spilled over his chest.

  “Both.”

  “For what reason?”

  “This is all very new.”

  William’s hand slipped from her hair to her lower back, lifting the hem of her T-shirt. “I like the way you feel. I like discovering new things about your body—how you react to my touch, to my kiss, to my body when it’s inside yours. You are a book that deserves to be read over and over again.”

  She smiled and pressed her breasts to his naked chest, reveling in the cool smoothness of his muscular form.

  “We’ll talk about your sister later. Go back to sleep.”

  “I’m not sure I can. At least, not like this.” Raven moved her injured leg, wincing.

  “Sweetheart,” he murmured. In a flash, he switched positions, placing her gently on her back and hovering above her, kneeling between her legs.

  Raven felt herself flush.

  She looked up into intense gray eyes. “Are you really afraid of losing me?”

  “Without qualification.” He put his weight on his forearms, at her sides.

  “Then we’re the same.”

  William bent his head so he could kiss the swell of her breasts through her T-shirt. “We are not the same. You are a soft, warm, desirable woman whose body is a wonder of divine artistry.”

  She drew him down so she could hide her face in his neck. “Go easy on the compliments, William. I’m not ready to hear them.”

  “That is a tragedy.”

  She clutched him more tightly.

  “I am sorry about your sister.” He spoke next to her ear.

  “She doesn’t believe me.”

  “That I have your stepfather?”

  “No, she doesn’t believe my stepfather attacked me. She thinks I fell down the stairs.”

  William’s grip on her tightened. “She doesn’t remember?”

  “You read the files. She was traumatized. Over the years, I’ve tried to talk to her about it, but my mother always inserted her version of events. Last night it became clear Cara’s memories are completely suppressed.”

  “I take it, then, your sister isn’t interested in justice.”

  “You could say that.”

  The lovers were silent for a long time. Eventually, Raven began nuzzling his stubbled throat with her nose. “You have whiskers.”

  “I am male, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He flexed his hips as if to prove his point.

  “I’ve noticed.” She lifted her head and brushed her lips across his. “But I thought vampyres stayed the same.”

  “We change in slight ways. Our hair grows, as do our nails, but very, very slowly.”

  “Good to know.” She kissed him once again, before dropping her head back on the pillow.

  “What will you do about your sister?”

  “I’m hoping I can repair my relationship with her. Someday.”

  William frowned. “Is there a chance it’s beyond repair?”

  “She was really upset. Her boyfriend told me to stay out of their lives.”

  The barest rumble escaped William’s chest. “Do you want me to deal with him?”

  “God, no.” Raven cringed. “Dan is a good person. He’s upset because Cara is upset.”

  “I can arrange to have the files sent to them. They’ll have to admit you’re telling the truth.”

  “No. Some grief is so great, it can’t be felt; it can only be observed. Or denied. Let Cara have her denial.”

  “You’re protecting her again.” William squeezed Raven gently. “Perhaps this is a case when you shouldn’t protect her.”

  “She has enough to deal with. I’m not going to put all of this on her. Not until she’s ready.”

  William shook his head. “So you’ll continue to bear the burden for your family, and the brunt of their anger?”

  Her green eyes slanted to the side. “There’s nothing else I can do. You said you wanted to take away my burden. But it’s a burden I’ll always carry, whether my sister believes me or not.”

  “Justice will release you.”

  “Will it?”

  William opened his mouth as if to reassure her and closed it. He changed the subject. “I saw the sketch on your desk. I’m sure Saint Michael is insulted by being drawn with my likeness, but I appreciate the compliment.”

  “Saint Michael can’t be insulted, because he isn’t real.”

  “He is, actually.”

  “You’ve seen him?” Her tone was slightly mocking.

  “Not Michael himself, but an angel, yes.”

  Raven squinted at him, searching for any sign of duplicity. She found none. “I don’t believe you.”

  His hand slid down to rest on her hip. “I know.”

  “I wasted a lot of time praying for help when I discovered what my stepfather was. No one helped me. If there are such things as angels, why didn’t they help?”

  “Believe me, I’ve asked myself the same question over the centuries. Forget about them. Let me be the one to give you justice.”

  Raven smiled up at him sadly. “You are already my angel.”

  “If I were an angel, my name would be Death.”

  “No, your name would be William.”

  His gray eyes glittered and he took her mouth, kissing her firmly. Raven wore a wistful expression. “I wanted Cara to be the one to choose his fate. She’s the one he touched.”

  “He touched you, too.” An angry look flashed across William’s face. “You deserve justice as much as she.”

  “What he did to her was worse. Now she wants nothing to do with me.”

  “You can choose for her.”

  “Not right now.” She stared up at him, a pleading look on her face. “I just want to feel.”

  “Then let me love you.”

  William took her mouth with his, teasing her with his tongue before dipping inside.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It did not trouble William to keep Raven’s stepfather imprisoned in a dungeon. Nor was he troubled by his treatment of the prisoner or the conditions in which he was kept. It occurred to him, however, to take Stefan’s words into consideration—he needed to stop thinking like a vampyre.

  Raven didn’t recall her encounter with her stepfather the night of her birthday party, a fact William regarded as a mercy. He had no wish to revive her memory and he was concerned her previous reaction would be repeated.

  When Raven announced she wished to confront the man, William discreetly ordered his servants to clean the prisoner and move him to another location in the villa, one that would be less alarming.

  Once again, he wished he’d killed the man when he had the chance, primarily because the monster deserved it. And because he had the suspicion that Raven, given her true nature, would be unable to stomach a death sentence. There had been a time when he, too, was steeped in mercy. But that was when he was human and in the service of a saint. When the saint died, so did the mercy.

  Strange how Raven had resurrected so much humanity in him.

  These were the thoughts William had as he waited for Raven, who was girding herself mentally to confront her stepfather.

  He stood admiring his priceless Botticelli illustrations, reexamining the figures of Dante and Beatrice. Although he cou
ld not understand Beatrice’s regard for Dante, now more than ever he understood Dante’s devotion.

  After sunset Sunday evening, Raven followed William up the stairs to the top floor of the villa. They traversed a short corridor, pausing in front of Marco, who was standing guard outside a closed door.

  “You are dismissed.” William nodded at Marco, who bowed and disappeared down the staircase.

  Raven leaned on her cane. “Now what?”

  William turned to her. “He’s inside. He’s restrained, which means he can’t touch you. He won’t be able to speak, but he can both see and hear you.”

  Raven’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Cassita.” William crowded her. “You don’t have to see him. Say the word and he disappears forever.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m not a coward.”

  “Indeed, you are not.” William’s ferocity softened into admiration. “You’ve demonstrated your bravery again and again. You don’t need to do so tonight.”

  “Someone needs to hold him accountable. Someone needs to speak for the children. I owe them that.” Raven looked down at her injured leg, which was visible beneath the hem of her modest dress. “Cara should be here.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  “No.”

  William put his hand on the doorknob. “Whatever injuries or revenge you wish visited on him will be done. You are judge and jury here. All the power is yours.”

  “I don’t feel very powerful.” Raven bowed her head.

  “Let me tell you what I see.” William stepped closer. “I see a woman who opposed evil when she was a child. Who fought a grown man to protect her sister. Who told the truth when the adults in her life lied. Who, when her mother betrayed her, protected her sister a second time by fleeing the house. Those actions cost you. And still, years later, you are opposing evil and defending the weak.”

  His eyes grew haunted. “Unlike me, you never gave in to the darkness. Who is more powerful, you or I?”

  “William, we—”

  He placed a hand to her neck. “I know the answer to that question. It’s you. You aren’t the girl he knew. You aren’t Jane anymore. You are Raven.”

  She leaned against him and he took her weight.

  “Are you ready?” he whispered.

  “Yes.” She squared her shoulders and heaved a deep breath.

  William opened the door. It creaked on its hinges, opening inward to a small, windowless room. The room was dark, despite the lamp that burned on a table nearby. The space reminded Raven of a poet’s garret, nestled like a treasure under the sloping roof.

  The only furniture in the room was a single chair. A man was sitting on it. His hands were manacled behind him and his feet were encased in irons, with a short chain running between them.

  Raven noticed that he’d stretched his legs out in front of him and that one of them twisted to the side at an odd angle, as if it had been injured. She stared at the leg, recalling William’s words from the previous evening. He’d pushed the monster down the stairs.

  It was poetic, perhaps, but not pretty. She felt a cool hand at her lower back and she jumped, muttering an expletive. William floated around her, into her sight. “He can’t speak. But he will listen.”

  Raven looked at the man, whose gaze was moving rapidly from William to her and back again. His eyes were wide in his bruised and beaten face, his hair matted and dirty. But his clothes were clean, if torn.

  He was gagged.

  William approached the man and he began muttering excitedly behind his gag, his uninjured leg shaking and jerking.

  “Silence,” William hissed.

  The man quieted immediately, his eyes moving to Raven. He gave her a pleading look.

  “She is the only reason you are still alive.” William gestured to Raven with a flourish. “I would have killed you the first night. You will treat her and her words with respect.”

  The prisoner mumbled more loudly against his gag, shifting and twisting in his chair. Of course, there was no escape. Raven clutched her stomach, trying hard not to vomit.

  “I can’t do this.” She turned her back on the prisoner and began limping toward the door.

  William breezed past her and stood at the door. “Instruct me on what to do with him and it will be done.”

  “It isn’t enough.”

  “Then tell me what is.”

  “I want my father back.” Her voice broke. “I want a sister who doesn’t hate me and who wasn’t hurt. I want my mother to love me again.”

  “Cassita,” he whispered, “not even God himself can give you those things.”

  “I know.”

  “Then let me give you what I can.”

  “You can kill him. But then I’m a murderer. And I still won’t have what he took from us.”

  “This isn’t murder. This is justice.”

  The prisoner erupted, his muffled cries rising to a terrified pitch. Raven turned and saw him struggling in his chair, trying to escape.

  “You’re trapped,” she said, eyeing his injured leg. Her eyes focused on his. “You’re powerless to stop us from doing anything we want to you.”

  The prisoner continued to strain against his bonds, but in vain. Emboldened, she took a few steps in his direction, leaning heavily on her cane. “You probably don’t remember me. I was Jane.”

  The prisoner rattled his chains, ignoring her.

  “I was Jane, but I’m not anymore. I’m someone else. Someone you can’t touch. How does it feel to be powerless?” She lifted her cane to point at his leg. “How does it feel to be crippled?”

  He made eye contact with her and anger rose in her chest. “Why don’t you ask me how it feels? How it felt to be a little girl trying to fight off a grown man. How it felt to be in the hospital with a broken leg. Why don’t you ask me?”

  She slammed her cane on the floor, the sound echoing in the room. “Ask me!”

  The man stopped his struggling and glanced at William, who was standing behind her.

  “Why don’t you ask me what it felt like to walk in on you with my sister? She was only five!”

  Raven lifted her cane and swung it with all her might, striking his injured leg.

  The prisoner howled behind his gag.

  Raven’s shoulders shook. “What about the other children? What about the girls in California? Why don’t you ask me about them? When you abuse a child, it can’t be undone. The child will never be the same. My sister will never be the same.

  “There’s nothing I could do to you that would ever give us justice. Nothing will give us our lives back. Nothing will erase what happened.” She leaned closer. “I could kill you.” She gritted her teeth. “But I’m not a monster.”

  The man began to struggle once again, his eyes avoiding hers. William moved as if to intervene, but Raven caught his sleeve. Her green eyes fixed on the eyes of her stepfather. “I’m not going to kill you.”

  All at once, the man stilled and he returned her stare.

  “This isn’t mercy. I don’t forgive you. I’d hope you rot in hell but I don’t believe there is such a place. I choose to live a life that will let me sleep at night. While you have to live whatever life you have left knowing the girl you threw down the stairs protected you so she wouldn’t become a monster like you. That’s how much I hate you, you sick fucker. That’s how monstrous you are.”

  Her body shook with anger. “I hope you live a long, miserable life with the rest of the monsters before you get there. I hope you rot!”

  Raven spat in his face before turning her back on him. She limped slowly toward the door, leaning on her cane.

  “Send him to California so they can put him on trial. Make sure they know about all the children he abused. Make sure I never see him again.”

  William took hold of her hand, halting her. His eyes searched hers.

  “He should have to face the children he abused and their families,” she said. “They need their own closure. I’m not going to st
eal that from them.”

  Raven opened the door and walked through it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was after midnight when Raven awoke in William’s bed. The room was dark save for a pale light that shone from the gardens. Through the doors that opened onto the balcony, she could see William, sitting outside. He was holding a book.

  Raven pulled the sheet around her naked body and padded out to him, not bothering with her cane.

  “What are you reading?”

  He looked up at her and smiled. His reaction was so spontaneous, so happy, it took her breath away.

  He showed her the book. “The Art of War by Sun Tzu.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Are things that bad in the principality?”

  He tugged her hand, pulling her into his lap, and set the book aside. “Don’t worry about it.” His lips found hers in the semidarkness.

  “It’s too dark to read.” She rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Not for me.”

  “Is that what you do while I’m asleep? You read?”

  “Not usually.” His fingers sifted through her hair.

  “What do you do all night?”

  “The night is our day. Usually I’m concerned with affairs of state. The evenings are when we feed, socialize, fornicate.” His voice grew rough.

  “That’s an awfully old-fashioned word for what we do.”

  “What we do together is more than that, assuredly. If you were to witness how my kind usually engage in intercourse, you’d note the difference.”

  Raven’s stomach soured. “No, thank you.”

  “You are a puzzle I cannot solve.”

  At the change in his tone, Raven lifted her head. William was watching her with eager, searching eyes. He pushed her hair back from her face, as if it were obscuring his vision.

  “I was worried you’d react to your stepfather the same way you did the first night. I was mistaken.”

  “I don’t have an explanation for that.”

  “Perhaps even though you couldn’t remember the incident, part of your mind remembered it. Maybe that made it less shocking.”

  “It was still shocking. I felt like I was twelve years old again.” She leaned forward. “But you were there. And I knew you would never let him hurt me.”