The Stars Afire

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “Never.” He pulled her head back to kiss her. “We are eternal.”

  Zeno needed to seek shelter, but he did not want to leave Fina. She lay in his arms, naked and languid with pleasure. He’d exhausted her, and he did not feel the least bit sorry. He only wished they’d been in a more private location, because he wanted her sweet cries to fill the room. He wondered if the lightproof quarters in Perugia were soundproofed as well.

  A valid question before accepting a job offer.

  “Zeno.” She stretched out her legs, her toes tickling him. “Do you need to leave?”

  He glanced at the clock. “I have time. Do you want me to go so you can sleep?”

  She shook her head. “Tell me about your life.”

  “I know about my life; I’d rather hear about yours.”

  “You have more stories.”

  He chuckled. “I cannot argue with that. I was born in Naples.”

  “What year?”

  “1893.”

  “Old man.”

  “But rather young for a vampire. My family was very common. Fishermen. And I wanted nothing to do with it. I had very grand aspirations and a very sound education actually. But I went to war.”

  “World War One?”

  “Yes. I ran off to join as soon as I could. Stupid child. But I found that I was a rather good soldier.” He smiled. “When the war was over, I also found the card skills I’d learned while I waited around for battle came in handy.”

  She lifted her head. “You were a gambler?”

  “Yes, a successful one.” He shook his head. “I made a lot of money. But after a time, the games, taking the money from boys and men who couldn’t afford it, began to wear on me. It wasn’t challenging. I turned my mind to business. Or what I called business. I loaned money to disreputable people, which was profitable but violent. I had money. Women. Automobiles and houses. But I could not go home. I would have shamed my mother.”

  “So you joined the church?”

  “I hated it all. By the time I was thirty-five, I hated myself. I was cynical and angry. So I thought…” He shrugged. “I will give this all away. Give it to God. All of it. Even myself. Perhaps He could do something with this wreck of a man and his gains from so much suffering. It was impetuous, but I followed through with it. During the second war, it was a good place to be, even though Rome did not do enough.” He clenched his teeth. “Not nearly enough. But still, I was able to move people who needed to be moved. Hide those who needed hiding.”

  “You were part of the resistance.”

  “The collar protected me. And the sisters.” He grinned. “Never underestimate the fierce compassion of our Catholic sisters. There were many hidden in the convent who had never read a prayer book in their life. But they hid them. Many of them. And then… I became a vampire, but that is a story for another time. It was not as pleasant as joining the church.”

  She was looking at him with an awed expression. “You are a brave man, Zeno Ferrara.”

  “I don’t know that I’m all that brave.”

  “Those who are not afraid of change are brave. And you have not only survived change, you have searched for it when life was not what you wanted. That is brave.”

  “Are you brave?”

  She wrinkled her brow. “I don’t know. I try to be.”

  “Cautious Fina.”

  “Caution is wisdom, isn’t it? Life is unexpected. You have to be prepared for anything. I didn’t expect to fall in love with my pig of a professor and become pregnant with Enzo, but I did. I was not cautious. And so I learned to be. And having my son was the best thing in my life. So unexpected!” A sweet smile crossed her lips. “I did not imagine my family would cut me off as they did, but I learned from it. And now I am independent, not leaning on them for my security. And I’m happier for it. Yes, caution is wisdom.”

  “Not fear?”

  She shook her head, and her quiet strength humbled him. “I don’t think so, no.”

  “I think you are brave.”

  “I think you are very flattering.”

  “Am I allowed?”

  “Yes, you are allowed.” She rolled over and put her head on his chest. “Your heart beats.”

  “Sometimes, yes. Not always.”

  “And you did not bite me when we made love.”

  “Not this time, no.”

  “Where do you get your blood?”

  “I drink mostly donated blood, but get it as fresh as I can. It loses potency for us the longer it is dead.”

  “Hmm.” She frowned. “Did you not want to drink from me?”

  He stroked over her head and down to her neck. “Oh yes. I want that very much.”

  “But you did not.”

  “I didn’t want to scare you.”

  “Does it hurt?” she asked.

  “Not unless I want it to. If I bit you, you would feel extreme pleasure.”

  She pursed her lips. “I think I have much to learn about vampires.” Then she whispered, “Hands-on research might be necessary.”

  Zeno laughed as he twined a lock of her brown hair around his finger. “Do you know I could fall in love with you, Serafina Rossi?”

  “That seems fair, since I feel the same way,” she said, her eyes warming him even more than her body. “Life is quite unexpected, isn’t it?”

  Chapter 5

  Fina sat next to Zeno with Enzo on her other side. They had decided to attend the pope’s midnight mass—which was actually a ten o’clock mass—on Christmas Eve. The tourists had poured into Rome, seemingly all at once. Flooding the markets and filling the streets, they spoke in every language imaginable, the lure of the Eternal City tempting people from all around the world.

  But within the basilica, Fina felt peace spill over her. It was crowded, but Zeno had been able to acquire three tickets to sit inside the church. Ancient songs filled the air along with the smell of incense. Latin chants rang over myriad whispers in every language. She was reminded of her childhood, of Nonna’s lace-covered head and scratchy Christmas dresses. The electric lights of Rome were beautiful, but it was the dripping candles near the altar that spoke of Christmas to her.

  She felt Zeno tense beside her. “What is it?”

  He leaned down to her ear. “There are many vampires here.”

  “Should we be concerned? I thought there were always many immortals in Rome.”

  “There are.” He glanced over Fina’s head to check Enzo, whose eyes were barely open.

  “So why—”

  “I did not have a woman and child before. I did not notice them as much.”

  She slipped her hand into his, and he gripped it. “You’re going to be insufferably possessive for a while, aren’t you?”

  He grunted. “Possibly forever.” Zeno’s eyes narrowed on someone or something on the other side of the church. After several minutes, she felt him relax again. “Damn Catholic vampires,” he muttered.

  “Aren’t you a Catholic vampire?”

  “I’m young. Nostalgia is to be expected. The old ones cause me more concern.”

  “Shhh,” she said, leaning into his side. “Listen.”

  The pope had started his address, his solemn voice filling the gold-clad-and-marble church. For hours, the crowd sat in silence, kneeling in prayer or listening to the beautiful songs that filled the air, occasionally intoning when the liturgy called for their response.

  She clutched Zeno’s hand, thinking about how much had changed over the years of his long life. And what had stayed the same. It made sense to her, despite his earlier complaint, that so many immortals clung to the traditions of the church. Whether they were devout or not, those traditions would be familiar.

  The mass passed without vampire disruption despite Zeno’s worries. It was only the three of them, as Giovanni and Beatrice had decided to celebrate at the Pantheon, which was near the house and did not attract as many tourists. As they filed out of the church, she felt Zeno’s callused hand grip her own. Saw his
arm drape over Enzo’s shoulders as he guided them through the crowd. The mood was festive, but people were tired, ready to head to quiet homes and beds, and they found their way back to their neighborhood quite easily.

  The previous days had been filled with sightseeing and shopping. Enzo, Angela, Rudy, and Fina had toured the city during the day and prepared the house for Christmas, always taking long afternoon naps so they could enjoy the night with their vampire hosts. Both nights, Zeno had joined them, earning some playful ribbing from Giovanni for his sudden disinterest in work.

  But he had been working. She knew that when Zeno left her, deep in the night after hours of talking and loving, he returned to his cavernous workroom in the Vatican, searching for clues to the mystery of the disappearing Franciscan and his Antonia. Many of their whispered conversations were not the teasing exchanges of lovers but the polite—and sometimes contentious—debate of colleagues. And though she hadn’t returned to the Vatican Library, Fina still felt a part of the research.

  She loved it.

  Zeno still had not bitten her, and Fina wondered whether it was her own hesitance that stopped him or if it was Zeno’s struggle with his possessive nature that made him pause. He was, as Giovanni had teased her, a man of great passion. And energy. She’d never felt the complete focus of a lover as she did with Zeno. But still she wondered what would happen when she returned to Perugia and he remained in Rome.

  “What are you stewing about, cara?”

  “Hmm?” She looked up to see him watching her face with a frown. “I’m just tired. Don’t glare.”

  “I’m not glaring.”

  Fina broke into a laugh. “You are a cranky old man, Zeno Ferrara.”

  “I am a dangerous creature, signorina. You would do well to remember.” Despite the harsh words, his eyes laughed at her.

  “How could I forget?” She shivered, and Zeno pulled her closer.

  He was dangerous. She could see it lurking in the edges of his eyes at times, especially when they walked around the city. Could see it in the sweep of his eyes or the occasional way her hair stood on end when he was near. Sometimes she knew he sensed threats around them, but he was careful to shield her, even from the awareness of it.

  Fina, knowing her own inexperience in the immortal world, did not press the issue. While she had no desire to live in ignorance, she also suspected that being with Zeno put her in the path of those who could harm her and her son without a second thought. She had no foolish desire to fight Zeno’s protective instincts if he was keeping Enzo safe.

  “What are you doing after you leave us?”

  He lifted the corner of his mouth. “Who said I am leaving?”

  “Aren’t you going back to—”

  “It’s Christmas, Fina.” He grinned. “Even my library is closed.”

  “Oh.”

  “Giovanni and Beatrice offered one of the lightproof rooms in their home,” he said. “For the holiday.”

  She smiled as Enzo asked, “We’ll see you on Christmas then, Zeno?”

  “Yes. More Latin lessons tomorrow night.” Zeno grinned. “No doubt Gio thinks I could use a review.”

  Beatrice tried not to let her Cheshire grin show too much during Christmas dinner. After all, she was sure that, at some point, Zeno and Fina would have met without her machinations. Probably. It wouldn’t have been as perfect as this though.

  Fina and Enzo, charming single mother and son. Alone for so many years. Happy but incomplete. Zeno, a cranky loner who thought no one would understand him or welcome him. Two lonely people with uncommon interests, finding each other during a magical Christmas in Rome.

  Oh yeah. She was good.

  “You’re looking very smug, tesoro.” Gio lowered himself into the leather chair next to her.

  “That’s because I am. Very smug.”

  “I will admit they are well suited.”

  Beatrice snorted. “Please. They’re perfect for each other. Has he given you an answer about Perugia yet?”

  “Not yet. I wonder if he’s asked Fina for her opinion. It would be a big change. And it seems fast.”

  “Fast? Kind of, yes. But they’ve been writing to each other for two years. So it doesn’t seem that fast to me.”

  He shrugged. “I suppose you’re correct.”

  Beatrice shook her head. “It’s still so hard for you to admit that, isn’t it?”

  “Torturous.” He leaned toward her. “Though… will you admit that I was correct to send Brother Pietro’s letters to Perugia?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “No! They belong—”

  “Because if I had not…” His lips trailed up to her ear. “…who would have orchestrated such a perfect match, my love?”

  “You’re kind of evil.”

  “Admit you’re glad I did it.”

  She mashed her lips together only to hear him laugh.

  “Fine,” she finally said. “Fine. Though you were completely wrong to misfile my letters, the situation was salvaged by my stellar matchmaking skills.”

  “That’s as much of a concession as I’m going to get, isn’t it?”

  “Yep.”

  “Fine. I suppose you’re tired of arguing about the letters, aren’t you?”

  “It’s Christmas.” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Even though it doesn’t feel like it without presents. Let’s not work.”

  “Presents come on Epiphany. I’ve told you.”

  “Whatever.” She was still prepared to sulk. A little.

  “So if we’re not working,” he started, “should I wait to tell you I’ve found Rafael and Antonia?”

  “What?”

  Fina tried to maintain her professional persona as they drove out of the city, staring out the windows of the hired car as city lights gave way to scattered houses. But she was excited. Never before had she participated in a search like this. Most of her career was spent in quiet offices and workrooms or searching online or through catalogs.

  But this! She felt as if she were in a mystery novel.

  “Excited?” Zeno asked, sitting next to her and watching her with the hint of a smile.

  “Yes.” She was buzzing.

  He chuckled and pulled her hand into his lap.

  The winery, a small family operation, was situated about one hundred kilometers from Rome in the hills outside Priverno. It was a small estate but an old one. The same family had owned it and farmed it for over two hundred years.

  And Giovanni was positive it had been founded by the former Franciscan calling himself Rafael Szarka.

  They pulled through the gates just after eight o’clock, the lights of the small tavern lit at the front of the house. The winery was on the same property as the house, with bare vines crawling up the hills dotted with oaks and olive trees. The tavern served the estate’s wine, along with a small selection of dishes for those requiring a meal. Giovanni had called the night before, and the owner of the winery had been delighted to entertain a party from Rome, even at such a late hour.

  As Fina stepped out of the car, she could see the signs of a building in decay. Though the vines they’d passed had been expertly tended and the rows spotless, the creeping evidence of poverty was all around. A broken border in the small garden. The sign hanging on a clumsily mended chain.

  Villa Antonia.

  “Signor Rosati, I must guess.” Giovanni greeted the man who stepped out of the house.

  “Yes, yes! Welcome. My wife has a dinner prepared for you with all the wine you would like. Come.” The barrel-chested man held a hand toward the door of the stone-walled tavern. “We don’t often get parties from Rome this time of year.”

  “Thank you for accommodating us,” Fina said. “Everything smells delicious.”

  It did. And the table before them was loaded with traditional country fare. Cured meats and cheeses. Crusty breads and dried fruit. A stew of some kind sat in the center of the table, steam trickling from the sides of the heavy lid.

  She gape
d. Since she was the only one with a normal appetite, Fina wondered just how much she was going to have to eat in order not to offend their hosts.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Zeno said quietly.

  “We should have brought Enzo.”

  “You’re right. That boy would be able to swallow half the table in one sitting.” He pulled out a chair for her and the four of them sat down.

  “Signor Rosati,” Beatrice said in softly accented Italian. “We were hoping you and your wife would join us for dinner.”

  The man pouring wine at the counter looked confused. “But—”

  “We have a confession,” Giovanni added with a charming smile. “We are not only tourists but historical researchers. Signor Ferrara, my friend, works for the Vatican Library in fact.”

  “Researchers?” Signora Rosati had joined her husband. “What are you researching?”

  Fina said, “We’d like to know more about the history of the estate. We understand it has been in the same family for many years.”

  “Two hundred,” Signor Rosati boomed. “My wife’s family is very well-known for their vines. I was only lucky enough to marry her.” He winked at Fina as he poured her glass.

  Fina felt Zeno tense and put a hand on his knee. “Really?” she whispered.

  “I’ll get it under control.”

  She let him scoot closer and wondered if the possessiveness would eventually get annoying. For now it was amusing, and she hoped he’d be able to temper his instincts with time. She’d be more concerned if she didn’t sense his own frustration.

  “You are lucky my sister is visiting for the holidays,” Signora Rosati said. “If you want to know about history, she is the one to ask. She keeps all the family papers and things like that.”

  Fina perked up. “She is visiting? Would she join us for dinner then? There is plenty to eat.”

  “And the wine will be far more enjoyable,” Zeno said, “if we know more about it, signore.”

  More confused smiles and quick exchanges followed, but soon the two Rosatis and their sister, an older woman who introduced herself as Luisa, had joined them. Friendly conversation followed as food was served and wine flowed. Luckily, a very friendly spaniel had crawled under the table, and the three vampires with small appetites were able to smuggle her some of their food.