All the Stars Look Down: A Duo of Christmas Romances

by Elizabeth Hunter

  Giovanni came to stand beside him, holding out a glass of red wine. “You still don’t take spirits, am I correct?”

  He shook his head. “Too strong. Wine is all I can handle.”

  Zeno was still young for an immortal, with the keen senses that had not been dulled by centuries. While older vampires like Giovanni could enjoy the brandy or whisky he’d consumed as a human, his taste was still too sensitive. The heavy red wine, with its hints of earth and smoke and mushroom, was as complex as he could handle.

  “Mmm,” he said after the first sip. “My thanks. This is excellent.”

  “Do you need to speak to me?”

  He curled one corner of his mouth up in a rueful smile. “Do I?”

  Giovanni sat on the bench across from him. “She is under my aegis, Ferrara.”

  “Ah, I forget how old-fashioned you are.”

  “Not old-fashioned. Cautious.”

  Zeno shrugged. “You know I am a bastard. I have no sire and no political allegiance.”

  “You live in Rome, but work within the Church. I will admit that Emil Conti may not have required a formal pledge from you—”

  “He has not.”

  “But that does not mean he has overlooked you. You could be an asset to him. He’s aware of it.”

  “Conti’s not a bad sort.” He took another sip of wine. “But I have no interest in politics and power plays. I never have.”

  Giovanni finally smiled. “Why do you think I like you so much?”

  “I desire her, Giovanni.” All amusement fled his expression. “More than desire.”

  “If she is willing, I have no objection to a liaison, of course. If your interest lies further—”

  “I think it does.”

  Giovanni raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Think?”

  “It does, dammit.” He frowned and raked a hand through his hair. He really did need that haircut.

  “Zeno—”

  “I lost my temper in the market like a newly turned child,” he said. “I thought of her when I had only her letters to hold. And now that I have met her in the flesh…”

  “She’s a lovely woman.”

  A bitter laugh escaped him. “For the first time in one hundred twenty years, there is something I want to possess. And I haven’t even slept with the woman yet. You know how this instinct will be once I have her.”

  Giovanni opened his mouth, then closed it. He thought for a moment before he spoke. “I do not know her well. I suspect you know more of her, though you’ve only just met in person. But I will say this: She is human. Do not waste time. The years stretch out before us, centuries with which to pace ourselves. She does not have that. She’s young. But every second is precious.”

  “Do you object to our relationship?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m not her father, only her employer. And her necessary protector in our world.” Giovanni smiled slowly. “Unless she has another, of course. You know the offer still stands.”

  “I cannot abandon my work.”

  “So don’t.” He sipped his whisky. “Take your precious letters with you. Or borrow them in batches to work on in Perugia. I’m sure you can persuade or bully Arturo into it. God knows you’ve scared away all the suitable assistants in Rome. There is more than enough room for both of you to work in the library there. She’s alone, Zeno. Think about it. I need to hire someone to watch over her and the library. Wouldn’t you like it to be you and not someone else?”

  He paused, knowing that to take Giovanni’s offer would change the balance of his eternity.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  He saw a light go on in Fina’s bedroom on the third floor.

  Giovanni stood and said, “Don’t waste a minute.”

  Zeno set the unfinished glass of wine on the stone bench and walked into the house, up the three flights of stairs that led to her room, quietly conscious of the sleeping humans around him. They would not hear him. And he heard no sign of Giovanni and Beatrice. They had fled the property, affording Zeno and Fina privacy.

  He tapped softly on the door, and she opened it. Her cheeks were delightfully flushed with the redness that so often marked them. She probably hated it, but it delighted him. Her lips looked like she’d been worrying them between her teeth.

  “Invite me in,” he whispered, tamping down his hunger.

  She frowned. “Do I need to do that?”

  “Yes.” The innocent question made him grin. “But not for any supernatural reasons.”

  “Oh.” She opened the door wider. “Please. Come in, Zeno.”

  He walked through the door and quickly turned, setting the lock for privacy. He held his finger to his lips as he walked toward her.

  “Quiet,” he whispered. Finally reaching her, he leaned down and brushed a kiss across her lips. “We must be quiet.”

  She clutched at the lapels of his coat, but he tugged it off. Then his shirt. He toed off his shoes. And while he did that, she started to undo the buttons on her blouse. He put a hand up to stop her.

  “Why?” she said.

  “I like to unwrap my own presents.”

  She smiled and let him slip the buttons loose to reveal dark red lace that barely covered her. It was the color of wine. Of blood. He grew even harder than he’d been, and his fangs fell in his mouth.

  “Fina,” he groaned as his mouth tasted the lace.

  “Red for luck,” she said.

  “My luck or yours?”

  “Both, I think.”

  He fought his instincts to take, take, take as he slipped the lace aside to taste her skin. Though he knew how to make his bite pleasurable, he did not want to try it their first time together. It might be too shocking, and he had plans to ensnare his little human quite thoroughly into his world.

  “Cara mia,” he whispered, pushing her back toward the bed. “We must be quiet, but I do not want to be.”

  “This time,” she said, quieting him with her lips.

  This time.

  He smiled into her kiss, the possessive instincts assuaged. There would be a next time. And a next. In fact, Fina might not know it, but Zeno decided in that moment he had no intention of letting her go.

  She laid herself before him, baring her body in the moonlight, and Zeno realized it was entirely different kind of possession when the object of your desire offered herself. He had given up every worldly object in order that those things might not own him. But he surrendered himself to her arms, happy to claim Fina as his own.

  “Mine,” he whispered as he kissed down her body. The words didn’t feel grasping or controlling. They were sweet on his tongue.

  Because, in fact, she was the one who possessed.

  He tasted her skin. The sweet arousal between her thighs. Fina’s fingers clenched in his hair as she gasped with pleasure, and he decided perhaps he didn’t need a haircut after all, because the quick pleasure-pain made him focus.

  Focus.

  She was soft. Mortal. He had to be careful. He heard her heart pounding. Could feel the rush of her blood.

  When he finally entered her, he could not hide the fangs that grew long in his mouth, even when he tried. He turned his head to the side but felt her hand pressing his cheek, forcing his gaze back to her. Forcing his lips to meet hers in a searing kiss.

  “Fina.”

  “I do not fear you, Zeno.”

  He thrust harder, for every part of her accepted him in that moment. Fina stroked his fangs, cutting her tongue on the edge of them. Zeno took it. He only had so much control, after all. He sucked her tongue in his mouth, tasting the sweet tang of her blood. Like a drop of the finest wine, it slid down his throat.

  Seconds later, she came again. A few moments after that, Zeno followed her.

  And it was a lovely fall.

  Giovanni held Beatrice’s hand as they walked through the gate and into the courtyard. It was only a few hours before dawn, and they’d spent most of the night
running around Rome, racing each other from one Christmas tree to the next and playing tag in the Piazza San Pietro like giddy children. More than one of Rome’s numerous immortals saw them. None commented on their mad behavior.

  Sometimes it was good to be a terribly feared monster.

  Beatrice tilted her head and bit back a smile. “Wow. That’s energy, Zeno.”

  “They’re still…?” He tried not to laugh. “Indeed they are.”

  “I think it’s been a long time for both of them.”

  He gave her his most pitiful expression. “For me as well, Tesoro.”

  She calculated in her head. “Really? Ten hours?”

  “Practically an eternity.”

  “That’s what you get for not giving me presents in a timely fashion, you insatiable man.”

  He reached down and palmed his wife’s firm backside, caressing one of his favorite personal landmarks. “I am insatiable. Are you complaining?”

  “No,” she said, tugging him into the house and running to their room.

  He tackled her just inside the door. Then, ignoring the faint cries of their guests’ pleasure, he set about sating the hunger their playful romp through the city had aroused. After, when she lay boneless against his chest, he let his eyes close, content to slip into day rest as he felt the tiny pulls of the sun.

  “Gio?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You never answered me the other day.”

  He frowned and opened his eyes. “About what?”

  “What would you have done if I hadn’t wanted to become immortal?”

  The dark swept down. “Why do you ask this? It is a pointless question.”

  “I want to know.”

  He rolled away. “Beatrice—”

  “Would you have left me when I got too old?”

  He spun around, eyes wide. “What? No. Why would you even ask me that?”

  She shrugged. “I just… I was thinking about Zeno and Fina. And Natalie, too.”

  “I believe Natalie will turn when their children are old enough. Why are you asking me this?”

  “Why won’t you answer?”

  Because the black memories fell over him. And they were heavy. So heavy.

  “What do you want to hear?” he asked in a rough voice. “You want to hear that I would have watched you grow old? Raging silently at the loss of the one woman I have ever loved? That I would have counted the minutes and seconds of your life? Agonized over every stupid human way you could be killed?”

  “Gio—”

  “Do you want to know how I thought about it? Before you had decided on a life with me? When you were still mortal and so vulnerable? That often the darkness grew so black that I almost begged Tenzin to turn you without your consent because your fury would have been nothing to your death?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, crawling to him and throwing her arms around his neck. “You’re right. It was a stupid question. I’m sorry, Gio. I’m sorry.”

  She kept apologizing, but he stopped listening. He only wanted to hold her. Wanted to feel the strength of her arms. The touch of her amnis as her energy twined around his. He let his head fall on her shoulder.

  She would be more powerful than him one day. The richness of her blood was evident, even in her youth. The thought did not threaten him. It reassured him.

  “I would have loved you every minute I was allowed,” he whispered. “And I hope you would have never known how much it hurt to lose you. I would have wanted only joy. Only peace. And when you were gone, I would have let myself burn. Because I have lived a long time, and the centuries were too weary without you.”

  Her arms tightened around his neck.

  “Don’t die, Gio. Don’t ever leave me alone.”

  “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 his legs. “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 good 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 good 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 FIVE

  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 Christmas to her.