“For centuries we have waited, convinced he would succumb to madness. He has taken little interest in affairs of state, choosing to delegate much to his lieutenant. We interpreted that as a positive sign. If what the Florentine says is true, the Roman’s renewed interest in his principality is cause for concern. More troubling is the possibility that the Roman’s anomaly has recurred in the Prince.”
“But General, my understanding is that the Prince is well within his thousand years.”
“Yes, but if—as you say—he was resistant to your relic and able to tread on holy ground, we have another powerful anomaly to worry about. An anomaly that is much more worrisome given the fact that the Roman is his maker.”
Jack closed his eyes momentarily. “I was not aware of that.”
“Neither were we. The connection between the two was concealed from us. But we know it now. Should the Roman and the Florentine join together and generate a new race of anomalies…” The General closed his mouth.
“They would destroy us.”
The General shook his head vigorously. “We have God on our side. I cannot believe he would have protected and preserved us this long only to hand us over to our enemies. But we must discover precisely what the anomalies are, who possesses them, and how we can defend ourselves against them before we engage in armed conflict.”
“Forgive me.” Jack looked down at the floor. “When I wrote to the Prince, I did not foresee the consequences.”
“For now, we must watch Florence carefully. We must discover more about the nature and scope of the Roman’s support. We must pray they don’t form an army.” The General foisted a severe look in the Jesuit’s direction. “You must abandon your pursuit of the second woman. The Prince has her. You must accept that.”
Father Jack leaned forward. “Is there no way to save her?”
“She made her choice when she gave herself to him. Perhaps he will tire of her. For now, you must leave her to her choice.”
The General lifted his hand and made the sign of the cross, murmuring in Latin.
“You may speak to the woman you rescued and find out what she knows. You are to accompany her to America as soon as she has been healed. You may return here afterward.”
“Yes, your eminence.” Father Kavanaugh’s shoulders slumped as he bowed and took his leave.
Chapter Twenty-Six
ISPETTOR BATELLI STARED at a series of blood droplets that led from Via Ghibellina into an alley. The blood was old, not fresh, and seemed to form a trail that ended in front of a rusty metal door.
The inspector scowled in the morning sun, searching for a means of opening the door, but there was none. He curved his fingers around the edge, trying to pry it open.
He had no idea what was behind the door. It had taken some time to follow up on the mysterious text he’d been sent. No one in the carabinieri seemed to know anything about an underground club on Via Ghibellina. He’d searched in vain for two days.
Now he’d found blood.
Batelli removed his cell phone from his pocket and called his supervisor. Perhaps the blood had nothing to do with Raven Wood and William York. Perhaps it had everything to do with them.
As Batelli explained what he’d found, he was completely unaware of the vampyre watching him through a security camera.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
RAVEN SLEPT LIKE THE DEAD. There really was no other description for it.
William left her side for a few hours to check on his principality and meet with Gregor, the newly minted head of security.
Ispettor Batelli’s presence outside Teatro had caused Gregor a good deal of anxiety, especially since he’d witnessed the execution of two heads of security in the past few years.
But the Prince reacted to the news calmly, instructing Gregor to order their contacts within Florence’s police force to protect the secrecy of Teatro and bring Batelli to heel. The Prince then registered his displeasure at the hunting party’s inability to locate and destroy Ibarra.
Gregor promised to double the party’s numbers, privately planning to use some of his almost non-existent liberty to hunt the traitor personally. The Prince indicated Gregor’s solution to be satisfactory, for the moment.
The sun was beginning to set as William returned to the villa. He drew the curtains in his bedroom and threw open the balcony doors, letting in a refreshing breeze.
Raven stirred.
William sat at her side, watching. She looked so young, so beautiful, her cheeks rosy with sleep and her long, black hair alluringly mussed.
He pushed a lock back from her face and her green eyes opened.
“Good evening,” his rich voice rumbled. He bent down to taste her lips. “Did you rest well?”
“Yes, but I’m still tired. And sore.” She winced as she extended her legs under the covers.
“I can fix that.”
She smiled crookedly. “I just need a hot bath.”
William pulled back the covers and moved over her. Her body was soft and pliable beneath his. “I have an alternative.”
He cupped her face with both hands and kissed her, lightly at first, and then more urgently.
Raven returned his embrace, her tongue entering his mouth.
They kissed until William’s lips trailed to her neck. He grazed the flesh with his teeth.
Raven stiffened. “No.”
“Why not?” He sucked her neck without breaking the skin.
Her hands dropped to his shoulders. “Because I’m filthy. And sad.”