Chapter 38 #2
Goose bumps danced down her spine as she stared at him, green eyes bright, blue-rimmed, watery. He was breathing heavy, trembling beneath her.
Ravenna’s voice was a breathless whisper. “Io ti prendo come mio marito.”
I take you as my husband.
Their vows filled the scant space between them, sacred words that bound them together. She had never felt as holy and as loved as she did then. “Is it done?” Ravenna asked, incredulous, happy.
“Yes, I’ll take care of the rest,” Saturnino murmured. “Come here.”
He brought her down to meet him, kissing her hard, impatient, demanding, turning her blood into wisps of smoke. They kissed until they ran out of breath, and then they pressed their foreheads together, breathed the same air between them. Outside, the world burned, the city hunted, his family raged.
And they were running out of time.
Ravenna sensed it, like the inevitable close of the day. The night would come for them both. She inhaled deeply, breathing him in, and whispered, “I can’t save you.”
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I know, amore mio. I know.”
“What are we going to do?” she asked, panic edging into her voice.
He straightened her, enough so that he could look into her eyes. “I have existed for nearly one hundred years, but it wasn’t until I met you that I finally learned to live. I know now, how to be human.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “We’re alive right now, Ravenna. Be here with me.”
She traced the slope of his cheek with her finger, the soft edge of his mouth, the strong line of his jaw.
He brushed his palm over the smooth line of her back, gliding down until he met the curve of her bottom, bringing her closer to him as the desire he had for her took over his body.
Need flared between them, and his pupils dilated as she swooped down to kiss him again.
He nipped, sucked, tasted her, his hands exploring every inch of her, cupping her breasts, holding the weight of them in his palms, brushing his fingers across the sensitive buds.
Saturnino sat up against her, gently moving her aside so that he could stand next to the bed. His black hair swooped across his brow as he stared down at her, the hint of mischief gleaming in his eyes, glittering in the soft firelight. She looked up at him questioningly, unsure.
“Come closer.”
She scooted to the edge, her heart pounding at the look on his face; aroused, intent on her, studying every line of her, drinking her in.
“Wrap your legs around my hips,” he murmured. Ravenna leaned back, lifted her legs. He held on to one hip while his other hand drifted down, down, down her inner thighs. He locked eyes with her, his brow arching in a silent question.
Ravenna nodded, breathless.
His smile was one she’d never seen before. Loving, slightly smug, tender. A unique blend for her alone. He slipped into her with a soft moan and began moving, slowly at first, letting her become accustomed to him.
“More,” she breathed, supporting her weight with her hands. “Please.”
Saturnino growled above her, and gave it to her, his breath coming out in soft pants. His gaze roved over her, open and vulnerable. They moved together, their souls knitting into one being, one heart, one fate.
A fate that was doomed.
Ravenna let Saturnino sleep. She crept out from underneath the covers, pulling the fur around her shoulders, her body pleasantly sore.
Twilight streamed in through the single window, dust motes dancing in the hazy lavender light.
Outside, the piazza teemed with conversation and movement.
Curiosity pulled her forward, the furs dragging behind her.
Her brother was out there, but she could not look at him again.
Not without shattering. She placed the flat of her hand against the wall and gazed out the window, carefully keeping herself from looking at the tower.
Guards marched from one end of the piazza to the other, stopping people at random.
Conversation was impossible to hear, but Ravenna could make a guess at their words.
They wanted information, answers to their questions and demands.
But then a curious pull drew her notice away from them. A sense that she was being watched. Saturnino had said it was impossible for them to be found. And yet …
Her gaze flickered from one corner of the piazza to the other, that curious feeling becoming stronger.
Her attention landed on a hooded figure, tucked in the shadows of the alley street where the door to Saturnino’s tower hid.
Ravenna gasped as recognition flooded her.
The man lifted his hood, revealing his face, his chin tilted up. The courier met her eyes.
He used his chin to point toward the door.
The man was a wizard—of course he had found them.
Hadn’t he warned her that he could sense magic?
Ravenna turned away from the window and drew to her beloved’s sleeping form.
She brushed the back of her hand against his cheek.
He wakened slowly, leisurely, his palm sliding across the bed, instinctively reaching for her.
The gesture worked like a balm, settling her nerves, the rapid-fire beating of her heart.
He blinked up at her, a small smile on his lips. “Buongiorno.”
“Saturnino,” she said. “Will you come with me?”
He immediately sat up, threw off the blanket, and stood, looking for his boots. “What is it?”
“There’s someone I need you to meet.”
He paused, his eyes searching hers.
“It’s important,” she said. “Trust me.”
He entwined his fingers with hers and squeezed her hand, once. They finished getting dressed and went down the curved staircase.
“I don’t like this,” he muttered. “It’s not safe to go outside yet when God and everyone are looking for us, and we don’t have a plan. Where are we going?”
“Not far,” Ravenna said over her shoulder. They reached the ground floor, and Saturnino darted around her, gently coaxing her behind him. He opened the door and peered outside, keeping the door half-closed. Ravenna pushed it all the way open and her lover turned toward her and glared.
Ravenna looked past his shoulder. The courier came into view, his countenance darkening at the sight of Saturnino, but at least he didn’t flee. He didn’t seem like the type who would. The two men stared at each other, equally guarded.
The narrow alley was deserted, but for how long? Just yards away, city guards crowded the piazza, going from home to home, searching for conspirators.
She spoke quickly, nearly stumbling over her words. “This is the pope’s courier—he won’t tell me his name—and it’s through him that I’ve received the pope’s messages.”
At this, Ravenna sensed a primal anger unleash from Saturnino. It radiated off him like a coal burning from a hearth, sweltering. She placed a hand on his shoulder.
“He’s helped me,” Ravenna said, low and urgent. “He’s as much of a pawn as I am.”
The courier flinched, and she sensed that he was far too independent a creature to accept being ruled by another. That he was understandably rankled him.
Saturnino locked his jaw, considering, and then stepped aside, careful to keep Ravenna slightly behind him. “Then say what you must, courier.”
The courier looked up and down the street and then leaned forward, whispering, “The pope is bringing your family to Florence, Ravenna.”
She inhaled sharply, fear curdling in her belly. It never occurred to her that the pope would make such a move. She felt foolish for not having considered it, as if she’d forgotten who her true opponent was. A murdering hypocrite. “For what purpose?”
“You’re in hiding,” he said. “And he still needs you.”
She blinked at him, shock rendering her speechless for several beats. “Why?”
“He hasn’t shared that part of his plan with me,” the courier said coolly. “But even if he had, I wouldn’t tell you, not with what I have at stake.”
Saturnino took hold of her hand, bracing her for the onslaught of panic curling around her. “When does her family arrive?”
“Any day,” the courier said. “They will be held at a secret location, but not for long. The pope will use them to draw you out of hiding.”
Saturnino looked at him narrowly. “Why are you telling her this? Why are you helping her?”
A muscle in the courier’s jaw ticked. “Because there might be a way for us all to get what we want.”
“How?” Ravenna asked. She took a step forward, but Saturnino placed a hand on her arm, preventing her from drawing closer to the courier.
“Careful.” His voice was grim. “That man is not just a wizard.”
Her brows rose and she threw a questioning look at the courier. “You’re not?”
The courier’s lips pressed into a pale slash.
Finally, he gave a single, reluctant nod.
Ravenna studied him, trying to discern what it was she had missed, but he looked the same to her.
That wild vitality clinging to his skin, his brown hair hanging in waves just past his jawline, the hard glint of his eyes … outlined in bloodred.
She gasped. “Vampyre.”
Ravenna had never knowingly met one before; they were famously reclusive, living in small dwellings carved into the sides of rocky mountains. They were mostly solitary creatures, but some were known to be a part of tight-knit groups of only a handful of members. Families, of sorts.
She replayed every interaction she’d had with the courier, a man caught in between, a wizard and a vampyre.
This was why his staff only held five gemstones—he wasn’t a full-blooded wizard.
With a start, she also remembered that all their interactions had happened in the dark.
Vampyres were able to venture out into the sunlight, but it cost them.
They were weaker, their eyesight poorer, their bodies under siege.
The courier blinked; the beam of red was gone. He’d shown it to them deliberately. Saturnino snarled, dragging her back into the tower, but she resisted.
“He showed us so that we could trust him,” Ravenna said. She lifted her hand and cupped Saturnino’s cheek. “I want to listen to what he says.”
Saturnino flicked the courier a lethal glance. “If you—”
“I could have drunk from her on any number of occasions,” the courier said coolly. “But I did not. Make of that what you will.”
“Then speak, vampyre,” Saturnino said.
“It’s simple,” he said. “I’m proposing an alliance.”
Saturnino stiffened. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Because we are in a unique and mutually beneficial position,” he said quietly. “Because I trust her, and because she can’t do it alone.”
Ravenna gaped at him. “You do?”
“Reluctantly.” He gave her the merest hint of a smile. “If I get you access to the pope, and if I give you a weapon to destroy the magic in his chain mail, will you finish him off by using your magic against him?”
“Why can’t you kill him?” Saturnino asked. “She’ll be in danger—”
“And you’ll be turned to stone,” the courier cut in, his voice even. “And I can’t attack anyone in the Holy Office.” His lips twisted in self-mockery. “A shortsighted bargain on my part. I’m offering the best chance she has to save her family. They need not die like her brother did.”
Grief flooded Ravenna, and she had to fight the burn of tears from falling. Her magic woke at the rising tide of her emotion, feeding off her sadness, her guilt. Saturnino reached for her, cupping the back of her neck, and gently soothed her.
The magic inside her settled. The tide of her grief drifted into the sea. She inhaled slowly; she was all right.
“How will our paths cross?” Ravenna asked.
“The pope is planning an attack on Florence,” he said. “The details haven’t been set, but it will be soon.” His eyes flicked to Saturnino. “When the city is at her weakest.”
“When we have turned back into statues,” Saturnino said. He glanced at Ravenna, turmoil lurking in the depth of his eyes. “I won’t be able to defend Florence or protect you.”
“Then we will need to control how and when the pope comes to Florence,” Ravenna said. “And I think I know a way.” She shifted, turning to face the vampyre fully. “But if I’m to put my life in danger, then you must do something for me in return, courier.”