The Roman

by Sylvain Reynard

  Raven turned and saw her sister scratching and pummeling the soldier who held her.

  The soldier cursed, but he would not strike her. Instead, he dropped her.

  Cara fell roughly to the floor and kicked at his feet, cursing loudly in English. “You bastard! Don’t touch me!”

  The vampyre growled, baring his teeth.

  “Cara, stop!” Raven limped toward her, but was surpassed by Borek, who placed his hand on the other vampyre’s chest, propelling him backward.

  “Enough,” he commanded in Italian.

  The angry vampyre spat a curse at Cara and moved away.

  She peered up at Raven and Borek, brushing her long, blond hair away from her face. “Raven? What are you doing here?”

  “Get control of her.” Borek gave Raven a thunderous look.

  Raven was about to challenge Borek, knowing that William was watching, but a door slammed at the front of the hall.

  All eyes moved to the beautiful vampyre who floated across the floor to the throne, where she seated herself, adjusting her flowing azure silk dress.

  “Simonetta,” Raven whispered, eyes wide.

  In front of her sat the personification of Venus from Botticelli’s painting. Raven recognized the face and eyes immediately, as well the long, flaxen hair that fell to her hips.

  As a vampyre, La Bella Simonetta was even more exquisite than she’d been in life. Raven felt her very legs shake in the muse’s presence.

  Cara tugged on Raven’s sleeve. “Where are we? Where’s Dan?”

  “Quiet.” Raven helped her sister to her feet and drew her to the back wall. “We’re in danger here. Keep quiet. I’ll explain later.”

  Cara muttered to herself, but was interrupted by a loud, musical voice.

  “This is unexpected.” The princess turned cool blue eyes on the Florentines.

  The Prince gave an exaggerated bow. “You cannot condemn me for wishing to gaze on your beauty once again, La Bella.”

  The female vampyre’s rosy lips turned up into a smile. “You flatter me.”

  “I apologize for interrupting your day. I trust my couriers delivered their message?”

  “They did.” She fussed with her robes, losing eye contact with the Prince. “My captain was sent out on patrol before the couriers arrived.”

  “A thousand apologies.” He bowed once again. “Perhaps the patrol had something to do with the Umbrian army that stands on the border of Tuscany?”

  The princess fixed her gaze on his face. “I heard rumors of your demise at the hands of our old friend Machiavelli.”

  “Those rumors were exaggerated.”

  “Indeed.” Her clear, light eyes moved over the Florentine soldiers, coming to rest on Cara and Raven. “I don’t suppose the humans are a gift?”

  “I’m afraid not, princess. These are the humans spoken of by my couriers.”

  Simonetta regarded him shrewdly. “Since when does Florence give gifts to the Curia?”

  “With respect, princess, since when does Umbria threaten to invade Tuscany?” The Prince’s tone grew sharp.

  She was quiet for an instant and then laughed, the musical sound echoing in the large chamber.

  “Who’s that?” Cara whispered, holding tightly to her sister’s arm.

  “That’s the Princess of Umbria.” Raven strained to hear the exchange ensuing between the two heads of state.

  Cara frowned. “I didn’t know Umbria had a princess.”

  Raven silenced her sister with a look.

  “I assembled my army at the border simply as a precaution. As you know, Machiavelli and I have not been on the best of terms. Now that I see my closest ally is prince once again, I shall order the troops to withdraw.”

  The Prince nodded. “Thank you.”

  “With respect to your couriers, I prefer to be given the opportunity to respond to a request, rather than having my acquiescence assumed.” The princess frowned.

  “Of course.” The Prince adopted a contrite expression. “A thousand apologies.”

  “Your apologies are noted, but not yet accepted.” She smiled. “Let us retire privately, where we may discuss the matter further.”

  She stood, and everyone bowed.

  Simonetta lifted her voice. “The Prince and I have private business to attend to. We shall return, in time.”

  “If I may, princess.” The Prince stepped forward.

  She nodded imperially.

  “I regret I must trespass on your hospitality. My soldiers were set upon by hunters. They need food and other amenities, as do the humans.”

  Simonetta lifted her hand. “Julius, see to it that the humans have what they require, and give them a room in which to rest. The Florentines are to be given sustenance, but they are to remain in this chamber until we return.”

  “Allow me to post my own captain and his second outside the humans’ door,” the Prince pressed. “I would also appreciate it if you would detain Stefan of Montréal, the former physician of Florence. He is not to be trusted.”

  The physician sputtered his protest, but Simonetta was already nodding at her guards. Two of them walked over to Stefan and dragged him from the hall amidst his loud pleas for clemency.

  The princess ignored his cries, extending her hand to the Prince.

  He kissed it before placing it in his grasp. He and the princess exited through a side door.

  Cara exhaled her relief. “Now what?”

  Raven didn’t hear her question. She was too busy staring after William, who’d left without a backward glance. He’d been so solicitous with the princess, so attentive.

  She’d never seen him behave that way before.

  Simonetta must be more powerful than she thought.

  Julius, the Umbrian captain, interrupted her musings. “This way.” He gestured to the door behind them.

  Raven and Cara had no choice but to follow, with Borek and another Florentine at their sides.

  Chapter Twelve

  “ARE YOU TRYING to get me killed?” Aoibhe’s hands went to her hips as she discovered her lover reclining on her bed.

  Ibarra smiled and rolled to his side. “Is that any way to greet an important ally? I seem to recall saving your life.”

  “As I saved yours, Basque. We are even.” She bent to pick up his discarded clothes from the floor.

  “Get dressed and get out.” She tossed the clothes in his face. “There’s a hunting party after you. If someone traces your scent here, the Prince will kill me.”

  “You didn’t know I was here until you entered the room.” Ibarra rested his chin on an upturned hand. “The Prince has barricaded himself in his impenetrable fortress. Not even he has spies in every corner of the city.”

  Aoibhe moved to the windows and drew the curtains. “Don’t be a fool. You were head of security. You know some of the humans are in his service.”

  Ibarra waited until he had her full attention before removing the sheet from his body. “Very well, I’ll leave. But I’d like to know how the Prince survived the last of the Medici and Machiavelli in a single evening.”

  Aoibhe leaned wearily against one of the bed posts. “Many of the brethren are loyal to him. Gregor rallied his supporters and came to his aid. When it looked as if the tide might shift, the army sided with the Prince.”

  Ibarra swung his legs over the side of the bed. “There are whispers the Curia has taken an interest in Florence.”

  Aoibhe lifted her long red hair. “The Prince sent his pet to them as a peace offering. Apparently, they want her.”

  “Is that envy I see on your face?”

  She turned away, fussing with the skirt of her long, crimson dress. “I envy nothing, save the throne of Florence.”

  “Then I shall have to secure it for you. Come, Aoibhe.” His tone gentled, and he exten
ded his hand to her. “We have the entire day to enjoy ourselves. Love me a little.”

  Ibarra’s body was aroused; it was obvious. But the expression on his face belied another, perhaps deeper, desire.

  Aoibhe stared, her dark eyes calculating.

  She unfastened her dress and pulled it over her head, dropping it onto a chair.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “YOU’RE CRAZY.” Cara rounded on her sister as they entered a lavishly decorated room located off one of the many serpentine passages in Perugia’s underworld.

  The room itself was rectangular, furnished with a large, plush sofa and several high-backed armchairs. An open door on one end revealed a bedroom. A corresponding door in the opposite wall revealed a bathroom.

  Exhausted mentally and physically, Raven collapsed on the sofa, cradling her injured arm. Bruises had blossomed on her pale skin, and the flesh beneath was tender.

  She grabbed a fur throw and wrapped it around herself. Damp coolness radiated from the stone walls, and her teeth chattered. “I’m telling the truth. They’re all vampyres.”

  “I knew it.” Cara came closer. “When you called me about David, I knew you were cracking up. You’ve been carrying that shit so long you finally broke.”

  “If I was going to break, I would have done it a long time ago.” Raven looked up at her sister. “Have you seen what they can do? Have you noticed how strong they are?”

  Cara plopped down on the sofa. “It’s a fricking Renaissance fair, complete with toy swords. Where’s Dan? Don’t tell me they tried to recruit him. He used to do community theater.”

  “He’s in Florence. When you came to my apartment, a vampyre attacked us. We were brought here, and Dan was left behind.”

  Cara turned to face her. “Is he hurt?”

  Raven hesitated. “I don’t know. He was knocked unconscious.”

  “Unconscious?” Cara’s face grew pale. “And you left him?”

  “I had no choice. We were attacked and carried off. Someone called an ambulance before we left. That’s all I know.”

  Cara bolted to the door. “We have to go. We have to get back to Dan.”

  “We aren’t going anywhere until the princess releases us.”

  In defiance, Cara opened the door. Four soldiers stared back at her, two on each side.

  She closed the door and leaned up against it. “There are guards in the hall.”

  Raven sighed. “Of course there are. Vampyres are extremely territorial, and we’re trespassing. We can’t leave until William persuades the princess to let us go.”

  Cara approached her sister again, standing in front of the sofa. “Forget about the vampyre bullshit, how come I don’t remember being attacked?”

  “You were thrown against a wall.” Raven’s voice wavered. “You had a head injury. You’ve been unconscious.”

  Cara touched her head, running both hands over her scalp. “I don’t have a headache.”

  “William healed you.”

  “Who’s William? Did he attack Dan?”

  “No, he rescued us. He was the one in black talking to the princess. He’s the Prince of Florence.”

  Cara rolled her eyes. “Everyone around here is a prince or a princess. What are you? The Princess of Portsmouth?”

  “Very funny.”

  “Why would that guy help us?”

  Raven looked at her sister defiantly. “We’re together.”

  “You have a boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because he’s a vampyre. He’s the only reason we’re still alive. We were attacked, and William saved us.”

  Cara turned on her heel and marched into the bathroom. She examined herself in the mirror. “I look okay.”

  “That’s because he gave you…” Raven cleared her throat. “Never mind.”

  “Gave me what?” Cara emerged from the bathroom.

  “They brought us food.” Raven gestured to the lavish table set up on the far side of the room. “Why don’t you have a shower and get cleaned up? Then we can have something to eat.”

  “These people call themselves vampyres, and you’re sleeping with one of them.” Cara scrubbed at her face. “Is this some weird fetish thing?”

  “Cara, come here.” Raven held out her hand.

  Her sister took it reluctantly, allowing herself to be pulled to a seated position.

  “You don’t have to believe everything I say, but you need to hear me. These people, all of them, are dangerous. They view us as food, and they have no problem killing.”

  Cara grimaced. “Including William?”

  “He’s different.”

  “How different?”

  Raven made eye contact with her sister. “He’s the one who captured David and threatened to kill him.”

  “What?”

  “I told him what happened to us when we were children. William was disgusted that David got away with it. He wanted him to pay.”

  “Did he kill him?” Cara squeaked.

  “No. He wanted to, but I wouldn’t let him. William turned him over to the police in California.”

  Cara stared at her sister, her expression blank. “We need to get to Florence. Dan is hurt, and he needs our help.”

  She strode into the adjacent bedroom, dismayed to discover it too was absent windows or any other visible egress.

  “You aren’t listening,” Raven called. She waited for her sister to emerge from the bedroom. “When William comes back, we can ask him about Dan. But we aren’t going anywhere.”

  Cara’s blue eyes narrowed. “Yeah, your new boyfriend is a real prince. He drinks blood, hangs around with re-enactors, and kidnaps your stepfather.”

  Raven leaned forward. “If you don’t believe me, ask Father Kavanaugh. He knows exactly who and what these people are. That’s why he wanted me to come to Rome, to get me away from William.”

  Cara lifted her arms in frustration. “Then for God’s sake, Raven, why didn’t you come?”

  “Because Father is hiding his own secrets.”

  “That’s obvious. He was acting weird when Dan and I went to see him, and he wasn’t going to let us leave. We had to sneak out of the Vatican in order to see you.”

  “Exactly. He doesn’t want me near vampyres, and he doesn’t want you near them, either.”

  Cara walked over to the table and retrieved an apple, taking a large bite. She gave her sister a hard look. “Tell me everything. And start at the beginning.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  SIMONETTA VESPUCCI’S BEAUTY was the stuff of legends.

  The Prince of Florence was well aware of this. He’d known her in life, and he’d known Sandro Botticelli, the artist who immortalized her in such paintings as The Birth of Venus.

  The beauty she’d worn in life had been compounded a hundred fold when she became a vampyre. Now she owned the face and form of a goddess.

  During his tenure as prince, William had enjoyed her on more than one occasion. Simonetta was passionate but particular when it came to her lovers. The Prince was one of her favorites, which was why he followed her to her bedchamber on this occasion with more than a soupçon of concern.

  The princess inhabited a stately villa in Perugia, which was so lavish it rivaled the Palace of Versailles. Her bedroom, in particular, boasted large floor-to-ceiling mirrors on every wall, a gilded ceiling, and heavy, ornate furniture upholstered in crimson velvet.

  Although one might have expected Simonetta to spend most of her time gazing at herself, she rarely did. The mirrors were installed primarily for her lovers, so that they could admire themselves as they consorted and fornicated with a goddess for hours on end.

  There had been a time when the Prince was untroubled by the decadent furnishings, when he’d enjoyed the mirrors that reflected the large and stately bed, and the female striding t
oward it.

  Now the sight repelled him.

  “Given your trouble with Machiavelli and the Curia, I’m surprised you left Florence.” Simonetta ushered the Prince to a large sitting area at the far end of the chamber, mere steps from her imposing bed.

  “Machiavelli sent the detachment without my authority, and he neglected to send couriers first. I came to rectify the error and to apologize for the insult,” the Prince lied smoothly.

  She smiled. “I can always count on you to respect propriety. Shall I arrange for a feeding? You must be hungry.”

  “Your hospitality is appreciated, but a feeding is unnecessary. I am eager for the detachment to reach Rome before sunrise.”

  “I’d offer transportation, but since the Curia is involved, I prefer to remain neutral.” She pulled a length of cord that fell from the ceiling. A knock sounded from behind one of the mirrors.

  “Enter,” she commanded.

  The mirror moved, revealing a hidden door. A servant stood in the opening, bowing low.

  Simonetta addressed him with detachment. “Fetch a bottle of our finest vintage, and be quick about it.”

  The servant bowed and withdrew, replacing the mirror.

  Simonetta walked over to a low couch and sat on it, arranging herself to best effect. She cast a stunning figure with her long, gold hair and azure dress against the crimson velvet. And she knew it.

  But the Prince’s thoughts were otherwise engaged. Indeed, all he could think of was Raven and how much he wanted to return to her side.

  He’d gone to Santa Maria Novella to beg his teacher for intercession. Perhaps the saint had hearkened to his request, perhaps not. At least he and Raven were together now.

  Raven wasn’t flawless in appearance as Simonetta was. But the nature of her soul, the strength of her virtue and character, made her unspeakably beautiful. With such thoughts in mind, William gazed on the princess’s face and watched as the pearl of her legendary beauty lost its luster.

  Simonetta invited him to sit beside her. When he did, she extended her hand.

  He kissed it briefly. “I respect Umbria’s desire for neutrality, but you must know a war is coming.”