Raven fanned a hand to her forehead. “What?”
“Niccolò is a member of my ruling council. You were in the same room with him when I blindfolded you and took you down to the council chamber.”
“I don’t remember much of that meeting, apart from being scared.”
William kissed her cheek. “You were very brave.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s very much as you might expect. However, time has taught him prudence.”
Raven stared at William as an idea suddenly occurred to her. “Did he write The Prince for you?”
William chuckled. “No, that was for the Medici. Machiavelli was not on good terms with them and that was one of his attempts at ingratiating himself.”
“Are there any famous artists who have become vampyres? Monet? Van Gogh?”
“Neither of them. But I can’t speak for the entire art world. For years, I’ve focused my attention solely on the principality. In any case, many of my kind change their names so as not to be recognized. Or hunted.”
“Yes, because art historians would be interested in interviewing them.”
William shook his head. “It would be a short interview. The art historian would most likely end up an entrée.”
“But what a way to die.”
William laughed and hugged her, spinning her slowly in a circle.
She admired their surroundings once again. “This is lovely. But the gardens at your villa are also beautiful.”
“Thank you. I took my inspiration from here.”
She looked up at him. “What do you like about it?”
“Its beauty. Its location. If we stood at the top, where the villa is, we’d have an extraordinary view of the surrounding hills. There’s vineyards nearby. Behind the house is the olive grove. They make their own olive oil here.” His arms about her tightened. “It’s what you’ve enjoyed at the villa. I had Lucia stock it for you.”
“Thank you.”
“The garden here is dissimilar to the gardens at York, when I lived there. But something about this place reminds me of home.” William’s face took on an expression Raven had not seen before.
He seemed lost in thought for a few moments.
Raven waited for him to return to her. “What were your parents like?”
“My mother was pretty and from a wealthy family. She was very accomplished and had been well educated.”
“And your father?”
“He was a tyrant.” William took her hand and began leading her away from the fountain.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I think I’ve had enough surprises. Do you want to tell me more about your father?”
“No.”
“All right,” she said quietly. “I’m still trying to process the fact that Machiavelli is still alive. I studied him in a political science class in college. He could have tutored me.”
“He wouldn’t have. Humans are beneath him and his intellect.”
“I knew there was a reason I disliked him.”
They walked a fair distance through the orange grove until they approached another clearing. Once again, small white lights illuminated the space from the trees on which they hung. Electric lanterns lined the perimeter of a rectangular pool.
Raven gave William a questioning look. He smirked and led her to the side. “Test the pool. I’m not a good judge of temperature.”
She leaned over and dipped her uninjured foot in the water. “It’s warm. The pool must be heated.”
“Excellent.”
William stepped over to a deck chair and began unbuttoning his shirt.
“Wait. What are you doing?” Raven sounded alarmed.
“We are going for a swim.”
She looked around helplessly. “We’re trespassing.”
“I’m not afraid of the owners.”
“I am. We don’t have bathing suits.”
“I don’t own a swimming costume.” He gave her a look designed to tempt as he pulled off his shirt, revealing his muscled chest. “And if you owned one, I’d persuade you not to wear it.” He unzipped his black jeans.
Raven muttered a surprised curse.
Without shame, William walked naked to the deep end of the pool and dove into the water. The sound of his body breaching the surface seemed thunderous. Raven strained her ears for any indication that someone had heard the noise and was coming to investigate.
William swam to the side closest to her. He looked like a god, his upper body perfect in proportion and sprinkled with droplets of water. His powerful presence was barely muted by the water, although he looked up at her hesitantly.
“Are you joining me?”
“We’ll get arrested.”
William inclined his head to one side. “It’s a warm evening. We’ve taken a drive down a long, dusty road. I thought it would be refreshing to have a swim. Together.”
The tone of his voice changed on the last word and Raven felt it on her skin, like a caress.
“What if someone sees us?”
“I have excellent hearing and an exceptional sense of smell. The wind is blowing such that we won’t be surprised by anyone coming from the villa. Come, Raven. I want to see you.” His expression grew heated.
Nestled among the greenery in the semidarkness, the pool looked inviting. Even more so when coupled with the aqua-god before her. Raven balled her hands into fists.
“Fine.”
Carefully, she undid her leather jacket and placed it on a chair near William’s clothes. With as much speed as she could muster, she disrobed. Covering her breasts with an arm, she hobbled to the shallow end of the pool and crept down the stairs. She only relaxed when the water came up to her neck.
William watched the entire procedure like a hawk. He remained at the side, regarding her, but made no move to approach her.
Her cheeks flamed.
He extended his hand over the surface of the water. It was an invitation. Slowly, she walked over to him.
“How does the water feel on your leg?” His expression was almost tender.
“It feels good. Over the years I’ve done aquatic therapy and exercise. It helps.”
“But you haven’t been doing that in Florence.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I’ll make arrangements.”
She was prepared to argue with him, but quickly thought better of it given his tone. “Thank you. I miss swimming.”
He lifted his hand, but instead of pulling her against his naked form, he gently touched her face and smoothed her hair. She placed her arms on his shoulders to steady herself. “The water is very warm.”
He nodded, still staring into her eyes.
She broke eye contact. “You’ve gone quiet.”
“Vampyres have excellent senses. When we feed or engage in intercourse, we become distracted. To ensure we aren’t surprised, I’ll have to forgo those activities.” His hand slid under the water to rest on her hip. “I’m finding it—difficult.”
She stepped closer, her breasts brushing against his chest. William closed his eyes and groaned.
“I think it would be rude for us to pursue those activities in someone else’s pool.” Raven kissed his neck.
Struck by a sudden inspiration, she licked a drop of water from his skin. William’s hands clamped on her hips, pulling her lower body against him. Without a word, he kissed her deeply.
“I’ll take care of it,” he rasped, his eyes like gray fire.
He wrapped his arms around her back and Raven forgot all about the owners of the pool.
Chapter Twenty-six
Later that evening, William piloted the motorcycle to a place near the front door of Raven’s apartment building. She waited for him to help her off the bike, finding her legs unsteady.
He chuckled as he removed her helmet. “Are you all right?”
“I’m perfect.” She smiled and lifted her face.
He captured her lips, pullin
g her against him. They kissed for some time, gently exploring one another’s mouths, before William withdrew. He pecked her on the cheek.
“Let’s get you inside.”
They walked toward the front door, holding hands and whispering about their activities in the pool. It was, perhaps, one of the most romantic evenings of Raven’s life.
As they approached the door, a figure stepped out of the shadows. William’s body grew solid and a loud snarl escaped his chest. Instantly, he pushed her behind him.
Raven’s gaze moved in the direction of William’s. Standing a few feet away, dressed in priestly black, was Father Kavanaugh. He was staring at William with a thunderous expression.
“Release her!” he commanded.
He removed a cross from his pocket and held it in front of him as he advanced, reciting what Raven thought was Latin. She tried to get around William’s body, but he pushed her back, cursing the priest in Latin, teeth bared.
“By the power of the Name, I command you to release her.” Father produced a bottle of what looked like holy water. Panic ripped through Raven.
She knew holy water had only a minimal effect on William. She also knew that he was at pains to keep this information secret. She couldn’t risk Father Kavanaugh throwing the water in their direction, only to learn that William was immune.
“Stop.” Raven managed to lean around William, making eye contact with her former mentor. “I’m fine, Father. He won’t hurt me.”
The expression on the priest’s face grew even more determined.
“Raven, walk toward me. Right now.” His voice was low as he continued to approach the angry vampyre.
“She’s mine,” William hissed, blocking her from the priest’s vision once again.
“William, stop it.” She grabbed hold of his arm and tried to push him, but he didn’t move. “This is Father Kavanaugh, the priest who saved me and Cara.”
William’s grip slackened for a moment and she managed to extricate herself. Limping to stand between the two men, she looked from one to the other.
“I’m safe. No one is going to hurt me. Both of you, just relax.” She lifted her hands, trying to keep them from shaking.
“Raven, come here. Now.” Father muttered words she did not understand. He fished in his pocket and produced a flat disk, which featured a red cross formed by two swords.
William grabbed Raven’s hand, pulling her to his body. He hedged her with his arms. “We must go. Now.”
“But he’s practically my father,” she protested. “I’m not going to run from him.”
William leveled angry eyes on the priest. “What do you want?”
“I’m not here to do battle. I came to see Raven.” The priest extended his hand in her direction. “Release her and we have no quarrel.”
“Stop it, both of you.” She extricated herself from William once again. “I’m not in danger. If you two would just come upstairs, I’m sure we can talk this out.”
“I am asking you now, Cassita, to come with me.” William’s tone caused a chill to ascend Raven’s spine.
“I need to talk to him. He won’t hurt me.” Raven tried to convince William with her eyes. William held her gaze, then his eyes shifted to the priest.
Father Kavanaugh had not relaxed his posture but he’d stopped moving, his pale eyes narrowed.
William spat on the ground. He turned and ran toward a nearby building.
Raven watched in shock as he scaled the wall without a backward glance, disappearing onto the roof.
He’d left her.
“We need to get inside.” Father wrapped an arm around her shoulders and surveyed the piazza. “There could be more of them.”
Confused, she allowed him to walk her to the front door of the building.
The priest insisted on crossing the threshold first, holding out a cross and reciting sacred Latin formulations. Raven was too distracted by her worries over William’s departure to pay much attention.
When she unlocked her apartment, once again Father Kavanaugh insisted on entering first. He searched the entire space, turning on every light, before allowing her inside. He closed and bolted the door behind them, breathing a slow sigh of relief.
“What just happened?” She stumbled to a chair, anxious to take the weight off her leg. She was without her cane because William had suggested she leave it at his villa before the motorcycle ride.
“Thank God you’re safe.” The priest hugged her as if she’d survived a war. Raven returned his embrace.
Father Kavanaugh was in his midfifties and was two inches taller than Raven. He was wearing a collar, a black shirt, and black pants. His hair, like his carefully trimmed beard, was white. His eyes were blue and usually happy. His hands were roughened from years of hard work with Covenant House in Orlando.
Once he’d released her, he placed the cross, the disk, and the holy water on the kitchen table. He pulled up a chair and sat facing her, his skin visibly pale behind his beard.
“What just happened?” she repeated, arms crossed defensively over her chest.
“We have to get out of here. Pack a bag. I’ll take you to Rome, where you’ll be safe.”
“I’m safe here.”
The priest shook his head. “The . . . man you were with is dangerous. You need to get away from him. Tonight.”
“He isn’t dangerous to me.”
Father’s eyes narrowed. He touched her chin, turning her face to the side so he could examine her neck. “No marks,” he muttered. “Thank God.”
She jerked away. “Tell me what’s going on. What were you two saying to each other in Latin?”
“I’m sorry to tell you this but the man you were with is not a man.” The priest spoke in a low voice, watching her reaction.
“I know that,” Raven huffed. “He’s a vampyre.”
Father sat back in his chair, eyes wide.
“You know?” he said at last.
“Of course. It’s obvious, isn’t it? I don’t know too many humans who can climb buildings and disappear into the night.”
“He’s feeding from you,” Father announced, reaching for his cross.
Instinctively, Raven’s hand moved to her neck. “It isn’t like that. He loves me. And I love him.”
At the sound of her words, the priest stood, holding the cross. “We can break the connection. Come with me. I’ll summon the others.”
“What others?”
“The Jesuits have a house near the Duomo. I’ll take you to them.”
Raven lifted her hands in protest. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Father Kavanaugh grew visibly agitated. “You don’t understand. Vampyres are possessed by demons. You’re obsessed with—”
“I’m not obsessed with anyone,” she interrupted. “William isn’t possessed. And neither am I.”
The priest examined her closely, paying special attention to her eyes. He inhaled deeply and breathed on her.
Raven scowled. “What are you doing?”
He pressed his lips together. “It was a test. Vampyres are human beings who’ve become possessed by a demon. They hate and destroy. When they attack a human being without taking possession, it’s called obsession.”
“William would never attack me.” Her tone was stubborn. “He loves me.”
“William?” he whispered, shock etching his features. “That was the Prince?”
Raven nodded.
The priest crossed himself again. “We have to get you away from him—away from his control.”
“I’m not under his control. Listen to what I’m saying.” She tugged on the priest’s hand, encouraging him to regain his seat. “William isn’t like the others. A few months ago I was attacked by a group of men. William saved me.”
“Vampyres don’t interfere in human affairs.”
“William did. He healed my wounds. I would have died without his help.”
“So you’ve fed from him?” the priest whispered.
“No.”<
br />
“Good.” He sounded relieved. “But you’ve given yourself to him?”
Raven squirmed. “We are in love. It’s not what you think.”
“Raven.” His tone was a soft remonstration. “Did you know he was a vampyre when you gave yourself to him?”
“Yes.”
He winced. “Vampyres feed on human beings. They view us as prey, as objects to serve them and their pleasures. They can be seductive and charming, but they are liars. They can’t be trusted.”
His hand moved to her wrist, next to her bracelet. “Did he give that to you?”
She pulled her arm back. “Yes.”
“It’s a mark. You’re his property. His pet.”
“It was a gift. I’m not a pet.” She set her chin stubbornly.
He passed a hand over his mouth. “I arrived in Rome at the beginning of the month. Your mother e-mailed me, saying you and Cara had had a falling-out. I came to see if I could help.” He gave her an anguished look. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’re a feeder.”
“Don’t call me that.” Raven’s green eyes flashed. “I’m in love with him.”
“Don’t you understand?” The priest’s eyes filled with pity. “They don’t love. They’re evil.”
“You don’t know him.”
“Yes, I do. I know all about the Prince of Florence.”
“How?”
The priest’s eyes locked on hers. “I’m part of a group that protects human beings from vampyres.”
Raven felt as if her heart stopped beating.
Father Kavanaugh moved his chair closer.
“I’m a member of a group called the Curia.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
“What?” Raven croaked, her mouth and throat suddenly dry.
“I take it you’ve heard of us.”
She nodded, trying to process his revelation.
“I was recruited to join the Curia shortly after I became a Jesuit. I’ve been serving them ever since. They just transferred me to Rome.”
“You’re one of them?”
The priest frowned. “I see he’s been filling your head with nonsense.”
“You kill them.”
“We free them.”
“A polite euphemism for murder,” she scoffed.
“We exorcise the demon, allowing the human being to be free of its control.”
The Shadow (Florentine #2) Page 13
