“I’m here, my girl. I’m back.”

November

“It’s normal to feel that, you know.”

Tenzin and Beatrice were sparring on the edge of a clearing as one of Gustavo’s men looked on. A human, one of the guides that worked in the valley during the summer months, sat at his feet. While Beatrice had very good control around humans most of the time, Tenzin had emphasized the importance of learning how to fight while the distraction was nearby. Considering Lorenzo had used the scent of human blood to pin her and kill her father, Beatrice was quick to agree to the practice, no matter how much her throat burned.

“Feel what?”

“That void from Stephen’s loss. It will fade with time, but there will always be a trace. You were sired from his blood; it would be unnatural to not feel the lack of him.”

They moved in a dancing fight, Beatrice’s style having developed into something uniquely her own in the year since she had turned. It was a melding of the martial arts that she had practiced as a human, Gemma’s vicious street-fighting, and Tenzin’s flowing, but lethal, ballet. Though Tenzin was still faster, Beatrice was more than able to keep up.

“Do you still feel it?” Tenzin cut her eyes toward Beatrice before she punched out in a swift uppercut.

“Sorry,” Beatrice muttered through her fractured jaw. “Stupid question.”

“Have you talked to Giovanni about it?”

“Why?”

Tenzin smacked the back of her head. “Are you stupid, girl? Do you forget that he lost his father, too?”

“Oh, well...” Beatrice had no idea how much Tenzin knew about Andros’s death, but she wasn’t going to say. Giovanni had told her that no one could ever know that he had a hand in the death of his sire. She would not reveal his secrets, not even to Tenzin.

“And however that came about—” Tenzin looked down at the ground. “And I have always had my suspicions—your husband understands the loss you feel. He has felt it himself. If you need to talk to someone, he’s the one vampire here that would understand. If you haven’t talked to him about it, you’re stupid.”

Beatrice held a hand up and paused. “Are you coming back with us to L.A.?”

Tenzin frowned. “I suppose I am. Why?”

“Because apparently, I need you to tell me when I’m being stupid.”

December

She was glowing. Her face may not have blushed anymore, but his wife had been glowing as she sat next to Ben and opened presents earlier that evening. They had gathered at Isabel and Gustavo’s house, Beatrice and Giovanni, Tenzin, Carwyn, and Ben. All together, and she had not struggled to control her bloodlust once.

Giovanni imagined that he was glowing, too.

She lay on the couch, stretched out and listening to him play bits and pieces from the Nutcracker Suite as dawn approached. She hummed along, horribly out of tune, as always, but he didn’t care. He heard her stand and walk toward him. She placed her hand on his shoulder and he leaned into her arm, rubbing his cheek against her flesh and enjoying the crackling, excited energy that filled the house.

They would go back to Los Angeles soon.

“Gio?”

“Hmm?”

She sat next to him for a moment before she ducked under his arms and straddled his lap. He pulled his hands away to grab her waist, but she winked and placed them back on the keyboard. “Keep playing.”

Giovanni chuckled. “What game are you playing, woman?”

She put her arms around his neck, nipping at his ear and nuzzling into his neck. “I think...”

“Yes?” Despite his preternatural concentration, he was having trouble focusing on the Tchaikovsky.

“I think that maybe I do want to learn to play.”

His eyes rolled back as she let her fangs scrape along his neck. “Oh, I think you’re quite adept at playing already, Tesoro.”

“No.” She giggled. “An instrument.”

“I’m allowing that joke to pass. To obvious.”

She laughed and cuddled into him, wiggling on his lap as he struggled to concentrate on the keyboard. “Not piano though.”

“No?”

“No, maybe... guitar. I could be a rock and roll chick. Not electric, obviously... well, maybe I could figure something out. I mean, if I really tried, I could probably figure out a way to make it work. Maybe an insulated case of some kind, but I’d have to make sure it didn’t damage the guitar... What?”

He grinned and ceased playing, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his mouth to hers in a long kiss. His hands reached up, running through her hair and teasing the pins out that she had used to put it up earlier.

“I love you madly, Beatrice De Novo.”

She smiled and nipped at his chin. “I love you, too.”

“Welcome back.”

Chapter One

Los Angeles, California

March 2012

Giovanni woke with a start, and Beatrice looked up from across the room. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of their large bed to stare at the photograph of the Ponte Vecchio, which hung on the wall of their bedroom.

“Hey.”

He blinked before he looked over at her. Beatrice smiled. Her husband looked as if he was still halfway dreaming.

“Good evening. Did you rest at all today?” He rose and walked to her, bending down to kiss her bare shoulder. He still refused to wear any sort of clothing to bed. Since their room was blocked by a sturdy, reinforced door, multiple locks, and an electronic monitoring system that she’d had custom made for them, Beatrice just decided to enjoy the view. No one would be breaking in.