Beauty and the Beast of Venice

by Alexis Adaire

  The yardmaster said, “While you were gone, a Greek man came to the yard, asking if any Greeks were employed there.”

  “A man from Greece? Who?”

  “I didn’t ask his name. He was older than us, short and thin with a nearly bald head. Said he was looking for a big young Greek who has been in Venice less than a year and may have sought work as a blacksmith. That sounds suspiciously like you.”

  Tavros heart nearly stopped. Who would be looking for him here? Had word of his escape from the ship’s cargo hold made it back to Phaino?

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I can ill afford to lose a smith who does the work of two men. I told him there was no one fitting that description.”

  Tavros said, “Thank you,” and began to breathe again.

  “Don’t give me reason to regret it. Now get back to your forge.”

  His mood quickly soured. Tavros was confident he could win the heart of a girl like Antonia, provided they were on equal footing socially. But the yardmaster had reminded him that a sea wider than the Mediterranean separated him from his prize.

  Using heavy tongs, Tavros pulled a crucible of molten iron ore from the Catalan forge, carefully taking it to the foundry and transferring it to the molds used to create giant rings. After only ten minutes in the heat, he was sweating profusely.

  As he waited for the metal to cool enough to be worked, thoughts of escaping with Antonia—of running off to another city, another country—filled his head. He could take her somewhere where nobody knew them, where they could be just another young couple in love. They could live blissful lives and raise a family—

  The idea of passing on his curse stopped him, serving to remind Tavros that he was not like other men.

  There could be no normal life, no beautiful wife, no happy children.

  He was a beast, and beasts knew no such pleasures.

  For the next few hours, iron suffered under his hammer as Tavros relentlessly took out his frustration on the innocent metal.

  By the time his shift ended, though, a sense of peace had descended upon him.

  Somewhere between all the pounding and sweating, it occurred to him that things were different this time. Fate had already intervened on his behalf. What other force could have led Antonia to the gardens, his place of solitude?

  Even more convincing: This beautiful young woman was as taken with him as he was with her. He could feel it. The fact that she was engaged to be married was, like the curse, merely an obstacle to overcome. Two daunting barriers, but neither indestructible.

  Destiny wanted them together. Who was Tavros to argue with the fates?

  His optimism growing by the minute, he resolved to find a way to make it happen. If not here in Venice, then somewhere else.

  When his workday had ended, Tavros hurried to the showers to rid himself of the day’s grime, then returned to his meager quarters and dressed in the only clothing he had that was not soiled with soot that couldn’t be washed out.

  He knew he could not afford to wait. The time to act was now.

  Chapter 12

  Antonia

  Antonia again was oblivious to her friend’s attempts to get her attention.

  The two girls stood on the Ponte della Paglia, watching the boats float by in the Grand Canal in the rapidly fading daylight.

  “Oh, my poor dear, this is upsetting you!” Flora said, her blonde curls bouncing in the breeze. “Don’t worry about Giovanni, perhaps he’s bringing back the most amazing wedding gift for you from Bari!”

  “What? Oh, yes, Giovanni,” Antonia answered quickly. “I should get accustomed to his frequent business trips, I suppose.”

  Flora placed a hand on Antonia’s cheek. “Antonia, it’s our destiny to become dutiful wives.”

  Dutiful wives.

  That was enough for some women, but Antonia wanted more than a sense of duty.

  She wanted romance.

  She wanted love.

  “Flora, right now it’s my destiny to go home. I’m exhausted from all the wedding planning my mother and I did this afternoon. Besides, I can’t keep risking staying out this late. If my father sees me coming in after dark, he’ll be furious.”

  “Okay,” Flora sounded disappointed, then an idea perked her up. “If you don’t want to go to Summer Carnival with Giovanni, you and I could go together. One of us could dress as a man!”

  The two giggled at the outlandish idea. Women their age were only allowed at Summer Carnival with a male escorting them. They said goodnight and walked off in different directions into the warm evening, with Flora turning to blow Antonia a kiss before she was out of sight.

  Antonia chose to avoid the busy Piazza San Marco and instead walked through quiet Venetian alleyways that were still partially lit by the remnants of sunlight. Candles glowed from inside homes where families were relaxing after supper. A stray cat scurried along a stone wall in search of a meal. Antonia heard the quiet lapping of waves from the canals against the foot bridges as she crossed over the water. The moon had already begun its slow ascent in the sky and would soon flood the city with a ghostly glow.

  Antonia heard a sound behind her and stopped to look back. Seeing nothing and unsure what the noise was, she stood still, listening intently. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she pulled her shawl around her.

  “Tavros?” she whispered into the night.

  Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

  Voices coming from the opposite direction caught her attention, and she turned around in time to see three men come around the corner. They were loud and boisterous, obviously drunk.

  “Well, hello, little bird,” the shortest of the three said, his words slurred. “What brings you out on this fine evening?”

  “She’s looking to take a lover, I think,” said a portly man, taking a step into the middle of the alley to prevent Antonia from passing.

  She pulled her shawl even tighter around her. “I’m on my way home. Please step aside.”

  The third man, who was tall and broad-shouldered, grinned. Pushing his friend aside, he said, “You heard the lady. Let her pass.”

  Lowering her head, Antonia took two steps before she felt a hand tugging on her arm.

  “We’ll let you pass if you show us what you’ve got under that pretty dress,” he said, his foul, wine-soaked breath almost choking her. He pulled hard on her shawl, jerking it off Antonia’s body and throwing it aside. Before she could react, the heavier man was holding her arms helplessly behind her.

  “She’s a beautiful one,” the short one said. “I’ll bet she’s even lovelier naked.”

  “Let’s find out,” said the tall one, spinning Antonia to face him. He looked lewdly at the top of her bodice, then reached his hands towards her.

  Suddenly Antonia watched in stunned disbelief as the man rose far off the ground and flew against the stone wall before slamming back down to the pavement. She screamed when she saw the huge creature standing in front of her.

  Everything happened in rapid succession, too fast to process. The beast grabbed the short man’s forearm and jerked it backwards, breaking it with a loud crack. The man behind Antonia released her and took a swing at the beast, but the monster didn’t even flinch, catching the closed fist in the palm of his hand and squeezing ferociously.

  Holding his broken arm, the tall man took off down the alleyway with the short one on his heels. The portly man dropped to his knees, screaming in agony and begging to be released. As soon as the beast let go, he got up and ran after his two terrified companions.

  Just like that, the three men were no longer a threat.

  Paralyzed with fear, Antonia realized she was looking right at a beast with the body of a man and the head of a bull. In the dimming light of the alleyway she could see thick dark horns curling upwards and a coat of coarse fur covering its head, face, neck and shoulders. It stood at arm’s length from her, its snout emitting loud breaths from each nostril as it stared at he
r with large, unflinching eyes the color of dark pewter.

  “Antonia,” it spoke in a raspy voice.

  Then the world began spinning and everything went black.

  Chapter 13

  Tavros

  Tavros’s brain was foggy, as it always was when he was in minotaur form, but he still managed to catch Antonia before she hit the ground. Knowing he had to hide, he ran down the alley as fast as he could, clutching her warm body to his chest, the scent of her perfume filling his nostrils. Crossing a footbridge, he saw a gondola moored underneath. It was beginning to get dark now, and the canal would provide the perfect route to escape if he could somehow avoid encountering other boats.

  Gently lifting Antonia across one shoulder, he dropped down to the small stone landing, only to find the gondola chained to an iron ring. Trying feverishly, he was unable to break the chain. Even the inhuman strength provided by his turning wasn’t enough, and he couldn’t get much leverage while still holding Antonia.

  Unwilling to set her down even for a few seconds, he followed the length of chain to the gondola and saw it ended at another iron ring, screwed deep into the boat’s side. Tavros grabbed the chain and yanked with all his might, cracking and splintering the wood as the chain went limp in his hand.

  He used his free hand to remove a tarp covering the gondola, dropping it in the front section of the boat. Climbing into the unmoored vessel while holding Antonia proved daunting, but his determination paid off. The gondola wasn’t large, yet still had a felze, a small wooden passenger cabin with windows on each side. The door was locked, but a sharp jerk took care of that.

  Tavros lay the young woman gently on the seat inside, which was covered with a fading red velvet cushion. A beam of silver moonlight shone through one window onto her face, and he was certain he was looking at the face of an angel.

  Shutting the door, he located the oar and slipped it into its support, then began to use his strength to propel the gondola down the canal. Just as he rounded the first turn, he heard loud, excited voices from the footbridge behind him and knew he was being pursued.

  He rowed fiercely as he navigated the small canal. Tavros wasn’t accustomed to seeing Venice from this viewpoint and struggled to determine their whereabouts. A familiar church tower led him toward a yet smaller canal, and he brought the boat to a stop under a footbridge so he could check on Antonia’s condition.

  Wedging the oar between the decorative stern and an iron beam under the bridge, he managed to moor the boat, then stepped back into the tiny cabin, where Antonia had yet to regain consciousness. He was still fearful of being caught, and even more afraid of what her reaction would be if she came to and saw him hovering above her.

  But as he stood looking at her delicate features in what little light was provided through the small window, something miraculous began to happen. He smelled the acrid air surrounding him, the harbinger of his turning. Then the pain kicked in and Tavros doubled over, refusing to scream lest he give away their whereabouts.

  The return to human form was always shorter and less painful than the reverse, and moments later he was again his normal self. Sweat poured from his body in the stifling heat of the small cabin, and his palms bled from his struggle with the chain.

  A delicate moan directed his attention to Antonia, just as her eyes slowly opened. A panicky expression quickly gave way to a merely concerned one when she saw Tavros looking down at her.

  “Tavros?” she whispered.

  “It’s okay, I’m here with you.” He knelt by her side. “Nothing will harm you now.”

  He could sense her confusion. “There were three men in the alley…”

  “They’re gone now.”

  Then her eyes flew open wide.

  “The beast! I saw the beast! It was…” She struggled for words as she tried to regain her composure. Then she looked directly at Tavros. “Where did it go? Why am I with you?” The expression of fear returned as she noticed her surroundings for the first time. “Where are we?”

  “Shhh. I came upon you in the alley. You had fainted. I couldn’t take you home because if someone saw me carrying you, your reputation would be ruined.”

  She reached for his hand.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “There was a man nearby when I found you, a drunk. We had a scuffle. Once I was done with him, I picked you up and looked for a place to hide. This gondola was the best I could do.”

  “Only one man? There were three. And the beast, I know I saw the beast. I’m sure of it.”

  “There was only one man when I found you. No beast. But now we must get you home.”

  When Antonia looked at him with those beautiful green eyes the world seemed to stop, save for the lapping of the canal water against the boat’s hull and the sound of their breathing. The pale moonlight streamed into the cabin from one window, illuminating her face.

  Tavros resisted, but she was the first to act, pulling him down to her. He felt his body press into hers, his breath growing shallow and his face temptingly close to hers. He could feel her heart pounding, as strongly as his.

  Antonia leaned into his neck, then abruptly pulled back.

  “Your shirt…”

  Tavros looked down and wasn’t surprised to see that his white shirt was ripped at the seams in several places around the neck and shoulders. The shredded material served to remind him who he was, of what he had been just a bit earlier. He could not risk being here with Antonia.

  His voice heavy with foreboding, he said, “You shouldn’t be here, Antonia. It’s far too dangerous for you to be out at night.”

  “But you’re here to protect me.” She put her arms around his neck again, pulling him closer.

  He resisted, cautioning, “I cannot help you. I am the one you need protection from.”

  Antonia searched his eyes, confused. “I don’t understand.” She touched his shirt. “What happened to you?”

  “The fight with the drunk man,” Tavros rasped, his breathing heavy. “The city is perilous at night; danger lurks in every alleyway.”

  His eyes roamed down her body for the first time. Antonia said nothing and didn’t seem offended. On the contrary, his lengthy gaze deepened her breathing, her breasts rising and falling.

  “And by the gods, you are equally dangerous,” he whispered, cupping Antonia’s face with his strong hands. He gently pushed against her, trapping her, bringing his lips agonizingly close to hers.

  Antonia sighed softly as Tavros touched her lips with his. Bolts of electricity fired down his entire body and he lingered, savoring the exquisite sensation, before pressing his mouth urgently against hers. She offered no resistance as his tongue slid inside, intertwining with hers in a dance known only to lovers.

  Chapter 14

  Antonia

  Antonia melted into her first kiss as Tavros ran his fingers through her chestnut ringlets and down to her neck. She was shocked by the intense passion she felt, and tentatively drew her hands up his broad back to draw him in closer to her body, her breasts pressing into his chest. He broke the kiss and began to trace her jaw line softly with his lips, his breath causing the hairs on her neck to stand on end and eliciting an involuntary moan from deep in her throat.

  Antonia clutched Tavros tighter as he moved down her neck to kiss her collarbone through her lace partlet, following each touch with a subtle bite of his teeth. She couldn’t tell whether the source of heat she felt was from the stifling cabin or from her own body. The sensation was almost too much to bear and she sinfully wished she weren’t wearing so many layers of clothing. As Tavros moved his mouth farther down to the tops of her heaving breasts, she grabbed a handful of his hair and arched her back, moaning when she felt his warm breath at the edge of her bodice.

  “Tavros,” Antonia whispered, her body tensing under his weight as he pinned her harder to the cushioned seat. His hands glided down the front of her gown and cupped her breasts. She reveled in the feeling of a man touching her in a way she h
ad barely dared to dream about.

  Her nipples stiffened as the tips of his fingers roamed over them. A firmness pressed into her thigh and she sucked in a breath when she realized its source. Between Piera’s patient answering of questions and the conversations she’d had with Flora in recent years, she knew exactly what the object was, and just as important, why it was hard.

  “Yes,” Antonia moaned despite herself, banishing all thoughts of impropriety from her mind. She’d forgotten the earlier incident in the alley and felt only a fierce desire for Tavros.

  She ran her hands down from his shoulders to the small of his back, yearning to know the secrets he might share with her, things she had only imagined discovering with Giovanni on her wedding night. Tavros grunted, his breathing becoming more ragged as her hands ran up his back and returned to his shoulders.

  She searched for his soft curly hair but was startled when she grabbed a fistful of coarse fur. Her eyes widened, and in the darkness of the cabin she saw the face of a horned beast with dark gray pupils.

  Antonia reflexively tried to scream, but no sound emerged from her throat. For the second time that night, she felt the air rush out of her body as her mind faded to blackness.

  Chapter 15

  Tavros

  The minotaur watched, heartbroken, as Antonia collapsed on the cushioned seat inside the little cabin.

  His breath came heavy from his large nostrils, and his tongue felt large and thick in his mouth. His heart ached at the expression he had seen on her face when she realized who he really was.

  Unable to bear the thought of reliving that moment, Tavros knew he had to get her back home before she awoke again. He stepped out onto the deck of the gondola, quickly un-wedged the oar and began to row through what was now nighttime Venice.