“Matt said he could rule Rome if he wanted.”

Carwyn frowned. “I think it would be more accurate to say that he could rule Rome if he wanted to, and Livia didn’t. He’s not as ambitious as she is and, as much as he dislikes her, he’s not willing to go to war with her over the city, though some would like him to. The Vatican likes him. Would back him in a conflict, for what it’s worth.”

“How much influence do they have?”

He shrugged. “Now? Not much. In the past? Enormous. Livia courted whoever the Holy Father happened to be when it suited her in the past, but the Vatican isn’t the political power that it once was. Thank heavens.”

“That sounds kind of funny coming from a priest.”

“Why? When I became a priest, the church wasn’t a global power. It was a church. Its purpose was to shepherd the faithful, not influence worldly governments.”

“This sounds like a much longer discussion than we want to have at twelve thirty in the afternoon.”

“Very true.” He patted her head. “What other gossip do you want? I know most of it.”

She laughed. “Okay, Livia. Honestly, is she that bad? Do you actually think she could be the one behind Lorenzo?”

“Yes,” he said immediately. “If it suited her purposes and enriched her holdings, yes. Gio is sentimental, but she is completely self-serving, and she’s very, very greedy.”

“You think—”

“I think I don’t trust her to fetch my boots. She’d most likely put a scorpion in them.”

She smiled. “So... good friend of yours, then?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “We correspond regularly. Plus, she hates me because she blames Ioan and me for Gio retreating from public life, as she sees it.”

“Oh?”

“She rather liked being the stepmother to one of the most feared vampires in Europe and Asia. Gave her a certain cache. She’s been trying to convince him to move back and be her personal enforcer for centuries.”

“‘Personal enforcer.’ Is that what they’re calling it now?”

Carwyn’s laughed cracked the still air. “Oh, B, I can tell you’ve bonded with her already.”

“I’m pretty sure the feeling’s mutual. She has that bitchy ‘I’m pretending to like you, but I’d actually like to stab you in the eye’ look I remember from high school.”

Carwyn shook his head. “Heaven help me.” He was silent for a few moments, drifting in the warm afternoon air. “Women are... gloriously tangled creatures, aren’t they, Beatrice?”

She looked up with a smile. “You having woman problems, Father?”

Carwyn didn’t answer, and Beatrice leaned back, studying his still face. She didn’t know whether he had drifted off, or was just avoiding her question. “Carwyn?”

He sighed and let out a string of soft Welsh, his eyes still closed.

“Carwyn, you awake?”

“Shh.” He put a heavy arm around her shoulders and pulled her a little closer. “Shh, love. Rest now, Brigid.”

Beatrice’s eyes flew open, and her mouth dropped. “Who’s Brigid?”

At the sound of the name, Carwyn’s eyes popped open. “Hmm?”

“Who’s Brigid?”

He only frowned and cleared his throat. “Sixth century Irish bishop. Patron saint of Ireland. Who else do you want to know about? Matilda? Bomeni?”

“You’re so not getting out of that question!”

He shifted and scooted forward, as if to go. “I should go back to sleep. Keep your celebrating down, B.”

She pulled on his arm. “No fair.”

He stood and turned back to her. “If I recall, once upon a time, you weren’t quite so forthcoming about a certain vampire and your feelings, so leave it be.”

“Carwyn, what—”

“Leave it be.” His voice was rough, and a light flared in his eyes.

She sat, looking up at him. He didn’t look angry, or even irritated. He looked... peaceful. And maybe a little resigned. “You’ll tell me someday?”

A smile crept across his face. “I’ll tell you when there’s something to tell.”

Beatrice couldn’t help meeting his smile with one of her own. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She rose from the couch and gave him a quick hug. “Do you really need to sleep?”

He shook his head. “I can stay awake for you, if you’ve a need for company.”

“‘Night of the Living Dead?’”

“Romero?” He slowly walked toward the doorway.

“Of course.”

“Well”—Carwyn raised his arms and stumbled down the hall—“Zombies do seem strangely appropriate at the moment.”

“You try to eat my brain, and I’ll get the swords out.”

“Oooh, scary.”

Fontana del Pantheon, Rome

“I can’t believe how much gelato I’m eating.”

Ben eyed Dez as she scooped up another spoonful. “It is pretty amazing. But then, I think we just need to accept that we are no longer eating lunch while we’re in Rome.”

“Yep, gelato is its own food group here.”

Dez leaned back against the cool pillar as they sat in the shade in front of the Pantheon. They had woken that morning as they did most mornings since they had come to Rome. Late. Angela fed them breakfast before Dez and Ben struck out to explore the Temple of Hadrian, which was fairly close to the house. Every day, they would take in some site that the guidebooks recommended before they found a suitable gelateria and a shady place to people-watch.