His face fell.  “Beatrice, you need to talk to Gio—”

“No, I don’t.”  She shook her head.  “I appreciate you coming to get me, but let’s not pretend it didn’t happen.  Whatever his reasons, he traded me for what he thought was more important.”  Her voice was hoarse as she stared into the water, but the set of her shoulders was fixed.

“Hey,” he said, leaning forward to try to catch her eyes.  “I know you’re resentful, and I understand why, but you need to listen to me.”

She dragged her gaze to his, and she was reminded how ancient Carwyn ap Bryn was behind his boyish charm.  His blue eyes bored into hers, and his voice was low and even.

“Whatever you may be feeling right now, you need to remember this: No one goes to war for a pawn.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks and she looked away.  She saw him shake his head from the corner of her eye.

“You don’t know…he’s been wrecked with worry for you.  The worst I’ve seen in three hundred years.  Please believe that.”

She choked out, “I’m not saying you would lie to me—”

“I’d never—” he cleared his throat, “never lie to you.”  He paused.  “But he would.  Gio would.”  He ducked his head down and forced her to meet his eyes.  “If he thought it was necessary.  If he thought it would keep you safe, I think he’d lie to Saint Peter himself.”

It was too much.  She shook her head, exhaustion beginning to creep up on her.

“I don’t understand, Carwyn.  And I don’t want to talk about this…or about him.”

His eyes were pinched with worry.  “Don’t you love him, B?”

The echo of the crashing waves tore at her.  “Not anymore.”

Carwyn said nothing, sitting next to her as she stared at the small boat in the distance.  Soon, she heard the whisper of voices in the wind, and she braced herself.

Tenzin and Giovanni dropped to the beach and he stepped toward her, his eyes guarded when she lifted her gaze.  She squinted, barely recognizing him.  The forbidding soldier in front of her, wearing charred black cargo pants and slick healing burns across his chest, bore little resemblance to the polite academic who had charmed her in the university library.  His hair was shaved close to his skull and his eyes were wary.  Beatrice thought he looked like one of the busts of the Roman generals she had seen in museums.  He looked as if he had just come back from a war.

“No one goes to war for a pawn.”

He stood in front of her, waiting for a few moments before his composure cracked and he pulled her up and embraced her, clasping her to his chest as he buried his face in her neck and inhaled.  His arms wrapped around her in an almost vice-like grip, and one hand cradled the back of her head.

Tears filled her eyes, but part of her wanted to grab onto him, and the other part wanted to strike him, so she stood confused and motionless in the circle of his arms.

He lingered for a few moments, but could not have missed the fact that she did not return his embrace.  He took a step back, smoothing her limp hair from her face, brushing at the tears on her cheeks, and inspecting her from head to toe as Beatrice stared at the slowly healing burns on his chest.

“No problems getting here, Gio.  Everything according to plan,” she heard Carwyn murmur.

Giovanni nodded, his eyes never leaving her, and motioned to the small woman behind him.  “Beatrice, this is Tenzin.  She will fly you out to the boat; Carwyn and I will swim to meet you.  Will that be acceptable?” he asked gently.

Beatrice glanced at the small woman, who really looked more like a girl.  Tenzin had a friendly smile and curling fangs showing behind her lips.  She glanced over her shoulder at Carwyn, who nodded reassuringly, so she held out her hand.

“Hi, I’m B.”

“It’s good to meet you.  I’ve heard a lot about you.”  Tenzin grasped her hand, and Beatrice noted the delicate, cool flesh, just slightly warmer than Lorenzo’s hands.

“You too.  Thanks for helping get me out.”

“My pleasure.”  Tenzin grinned, and Beatrice couldn’t ignore the blood stains that caked the front of the small woman’s shirt.  Tenzin caught her looking, but only gave a shrug.

Beatrice blinked and looked across the ocean.  “You can carry me to the boat?”

“Just hold my hand, the wind will carry us.”

A small smile flickered across Beatrice’s face.  “Really?”

“Really.”  Tenzin nodded.  “Let’s get out of here.  It’s damp.”

Beatrice nodded and looked for Carwyn, but her eyes were caught by Giovanni’s penetrating gaze.

He was standing at attention, staring at her, his arms behind his back and his shoulders square.  She had the sudden disarming impression that he was hers to command, and an unreadable expression filled his green eyes.

“Whenever you are ready, Beatrice.”

Turning back to Tenzin, she held out her hand.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Over the Atlantic

July 2004

Giovanni watched as she slept, taking advantage of the last moments of calm before he knew she would wake, furious and argumentative.

He glanced around the plush compartment of the plane he had taken from Lorenzo.  The weeks he had spent in Rome manipulating the ancient vampires of Livia’s court, and the necessary maneuvers in Athens might have been maddening, but ultimately they had netted him exactly what he wanted, with a few unexpected extras thrown in.