The Raven (34 page)

“S
omeone is happy this morning.” Patrick smirked as he saw Raven sitting at her desk with a dreamy smile on her face.

She was staring at an image of
Primavera
that she’d used as the wallpaper to her desktop computer.

“Earth to Raven?” He snapped his fingers, causing her to jump.

When she saw who’d surprised her, she shoved his arm. “Jeez, Patrick. What the hell?”

He laughed. “I called your name twice.”

“I was concentrating.” She turned back to her computer, logging out of the system.

“On what, your wallpaper?”

“Very funny.”

“Why so happy this morning? Is it because Batelli got turfed?”

Raven glanced around the room at their colleagues. Fortunately, they weren’t paying attention to their conversation.

“Ssshhh!” She gave Patrick a censorious look.

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Sorry.”

“Summer is coming. That makes me happy.” Raven grabbed her cane and walked to the wardrobe to retrieve her lab coat.

“Right.” Patrick followed her. “Hey, if things with your wine collector are that good, why don’t we go on a double date? Gina wanted to plan something for your birthday.”

“It isn’t until July.”

“Well, she’ll plan a party for then. But we should go out before that. Bring your friend to meet us.”

“Um, I don’t know.” Raven tried not to look troubled.

“No big deal. I know how things are when it’s new.” He smiled again.

Raven returned his smile. “Things are pretty new with Gina. You guys have only been together a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, but it feels like longer because we were friends first. How’s your collector?”

She directed her grin at her lab coat. “He’s good. Thanks.”

Patrick shook his head at her. “Now that we know everything is good, let me know when you’re free. We can go out to dinner or meet for drinks after work. You decide.”

He started for the door. “By the way, they’re going to reopen the exhibition hall in a couple of weeks. The Prado in Madrid agreed to lend us a few pieces.”

Raven gestured to him to come back. “Does that mean they’ve closed the investigation?”

“No. From what I hear, it’s just moved off-site. There’s no way Vitali is going to let the illustrations go without a massive investigation. By the way, be careful walking around the city at night. The newspapers are reporting that there’s a motorcycle gang attacking people. They shot a guy with a crossbow Monday night.”

“What?” Raven’s jaw dropped open.

“I know. Ridiculous, right? The BBC is reporting that both British and American tourists are canceling their travel plans to Florence this summer. The theft at the gallery, plus those bodies they found near the river, and now the motorcycle gang have all hit the news.”

“Is the gang attacking random people or are they targeting?”

Patrick gave her a quizzical look. “I have no idea. There were reports of attacks but when the police arrived, the victims had disappeared.”

“Thanks, Patrick. Say hi to Gina. I’ll let you know about dinner.”

Her friend nodded and made his way to the archives.

Raven thought of one word as she walked toward the restoration lab.

Hunters.

During her lunch break, Raven contemplated calling Ambrogio in order to leave a message for William.

But she didn’t.

He didn’t communicate by telephone, text, or e-mail. If she asked him to come to dinner with her friends, he’d decline, of course.

How could she introduce her . . . vampyre to her friends?

The answer was clear and concise.

She couldn’t.

Raven didn’t see William again until Saturday evening. He’d been busy day and night trying to locate the hunters.

It was a plausible explanation.

But Raven couldn’t help the doubt that crept into the back of her mind. She wondered if he’d seen the red-haired vampyre while he was hunting. She wondered who he was feeding from, since he wasn’t feeding from her.

She cursed herself for being jealous of his food sources.

On Saturday evening, at William’s request, she put on a little black dress that dipped very low in the back, exposing a great deal of skin. The dress would have looked better with stilettos, but now that her leg was back to its previous form, she couldn’t wear high heels without excruciating pain.

She took time brushing and styling her long black hair, curling the ends. And she made up her face with a light hand, accentuating the natural color of her lips and highlighting her green eyes.

William had said he was taking her out for the evening, but that she was to be ready before sunset.

A knock sounded at the door and she looked through the peephole.

It was Marco.

She opened the door to let him in and retrieved her purse. “Where’s his lordship?”

“In the car.” Marco moved past her, searching the apartment. When he seemed satisfied with what he saw (or didn’t see), he accompanied her to the landing, keeping careful watch on the stairwell as she locked the door.

When she entered the Mercedes, she found William in the backseat.

“Good evening.” He greeted her with a passionate kiss.

She kissed him back earnestly, for she’d missed him.

“I like this.” His fingers descended to where the dress began at her backside.

“You requested it.”

“I may have requested it, but only you could wear it.” He grasped her wrist, moving her bracelet aside so his lips could meet her skin. “You’re stunning.”

Marco pulled away from the curb and they began driving.

“You won’t need this tonight.” William undid the scarf that covered her neck.

Slowly and sensuously, he slid the silk across her skin, allowing the end to trail across her breast.

Raven stopped breathing for a moment.

“Why not?”

“We won’t be in public this evening.” He touched her neck with a single finger. “But I need you to close your eyes.”

“Why?” Raven looked out the window in alarm. “Are you taking me back underground?”

“No. Trust me.”

Raven didn’t trust him. Not completely.

But she swallowed her doubts and closed her eyes.

She could hear the sound of other cars and Vespas as they passed. She could feel the movement of the car, the acceleration and deceleration. There were several stops and several turns.

She had no idea where they were going.

All this time, William’s thumb stroked the back of her hand.

Suddenly the car came to a stop.

“We’re here.”

Raven opened her eyes and saw they were in an alley. She didn’t recognize the buildings on either side.

Marco opened her door and helped her out, reaching inside to pick up her cane.

“Thank you.” She took it from him and walked around the back of the car to where William was waiting.

“That will be all, Marco. I’ll ring you when it’s time to return.”

Marco nodded and returned to the driver’s seat.

William stood in front of a rusty metal door. He pressed a stone in the wall to its left and a security panel emerged. He entered a long series of numbers and Raven heard a loud click.

William opened the door, allowing her to step inside.

“What’s this?” she asked, her eyes peering into the dark space.

“This is Teatro.”

“I
t doesn’t look like a theater.” Raven strained to make out the features of the room.

Behind her, William switched on the lights.

The lights were dim, but they illuminated a long bar that ran along one side, what looked like a stage that stood in front of a dance floor, and a series of couches and tables and chairs on the other two walls.

“It looks like a club.” Raven gave William a curious look.

“It is.”

“Where is everyone?”

“It’s closed this evening for a private engagement.”

He gestured to one of the velvet couches and Raven sat down.

William went to the corner, where the dj booth was located. Soon music filled the room.

Raven recognized it as Madeleine Peyroux.

“I thought you didn’t listen to modern music,” she called.

“I’ve been persuaded to expand my universe.” He smiled as he approached her. “Can I offer you a drink?”

Raven looked toward the bar. “Do you have human drinks here?”

“This is a club for vampyres and humans.”

Raven found herself disquieted by the revelation.

“I’d like red wine, please.”

William bowed and withdrew to the bar.

Raven took the opportunity to examine the large space more closely. There were flat-screen televisions on the wall, all of which were switched off. There were a few doors that led from the central room to places unknown.

It was, perhaps, a club like any other dance club. Except it catered to vampyres.

William approached with a bottle of wine and two glasses balanced on a tray. He poured a glass for her and one for himself.

“Going human tonight?” she asked as he handed her a glass.

“I enjoy red wine.”

He settled next to her on the sofa and clinked their glasses together.

Raven tasted the wine. It was excellent.

“Do you spend a lot of time here?”

“Never.” William sipped his wine pointedly.

“Why not?”

“Decadence bores me.”

“Why? What happens here?”

William swirled the contents of his glass, his face studiously blank.

“Nothing of importance.”

Raven’s eyebrows knitted together. “It’s a simple question; not a state secret.”

His eyes flickered to hers.

“Secrecy is the currency that keeps me alive.”

“Aren’t you tired of keeping secrets?”

He placed his glass on the table in front of them, but didn’t respond.

“I was under the impression that your secrecy would relax once we went to bed.” Her green eyes held a warning.

William tried to hide his surprise at her rising anger but was unsuccessful.

“I’m not used to confiding in someone. I will concede that you should have answers to some of your questions, within reason.” He relaxed in his seat, lifting his arm to rest across the back of the sofa. “I enjoy your company, Raven. I hope you enjoy mine.”

“I do.” She focused on her wineglass. “Very much.”

“There are other human beings who enjoy the company of vampyres. They come here to offer themselves.”

“In what way?”

“All ways.”

She lifted her head. “And the vampyres?”

“They come here to feed, to have sex, to see and be seen.”

Raven peered around the room.

“Do vampyres bring their pets here?”

“Sometimes. This is a place where one might find a pet, or borrow someone else’s.”

A sick feeling twisted in Raven’s stomach and she, too, put her glass down.

“Cassita.” He lifted her hand and pressed the back of it to his lips. “Look around you. Who’s here?”

“Just us.”

“Precisely. I wouldn’t bring you here under normal circumstances.”

“Why?”

“I think if you reflect for a moment, you’ll discern the answer. Would you care to dance?” He gestured at the dance floor.

She lifted her cane so he could see it. “I can’t.”

“Are you in pain?” He leaned closer.

“No.”

“Then you can dance.”

She withdrew her hand.

“I’m unsteady.”

“I’ll hold you up.”

“I can’t really move that well.”

“We’ll stand in one spot.”

She scowled. “You’re one bossy vampyre, did you know that?”

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
“Yes.”

Without ceremony, he lifted her into his arms as if she were as light as a feather and carried her to the center of the dance floor.

When she was on two feet, he pulled her into his arms.

The music continued; soft music that was conducive to slow movements. William held her close and they began to sway.

“I didn’t know vampyres danced.” She couldn’t keep the amusement out of her voice.

“I wanted an excuse to touch you.”

“You don’t need an excuse.”

“Don’t I?” He pulled back to search her eyes.

She shook her head.

He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek.

“If you’re uncomfortable, I can give you vampyre blood to help your leg.”

Raven resisted the urge to pull away from him and instead focused her attention on the top button of his shirt, which was undone.

“I’m sorry it bothers you.” Her tone hardened.

“Not in the slightest.” He stopped. “I’m worried about you.”

She shrugged. “The wine helps.”

“As long as you’re comfortable.”

They resumed dancing, gently moving in concert to the music.

“You dance well,” he observed.

“Not really.” Raven blushed. “I took dance lessons when I was a little girl. Ballet.”

“I detect it in your movements sometimes. Very elegant.”

She stifled a laugh. No one had ever called her elegant since her accident. She regarded him skeptically. “Don’t you want to fix me?”

William appeared puzzled.

“Why should I want to fix you? You aren’t broken.”

His answer pierced her.

Her eyes bore into his, searching for any sign of duplicity or mirth.

“Part of me wants to take the blood so I can run with you. I have a vision of the two of us, flying across the rooftops.”

“Perhaps it isn’t a vision. It could be a memory of the first time I brought you to the villa.” He smiled. “When you decide you want to run, I have an entire cellar of excellent vintages at your disposal.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I can run fast enough for both of us.” He pressed his lips to her hair.

She toyed with one of the buttons on his shirt, staring at it as if it were the soul of fascination.

“Part of me feels like I would be betraying other disabled persons if I took the blood. That I’d be saying I’m not good enough. That my disability separates me from you.”

William regarded her gravely—the set of her chin, her downcast eyes, the tension in her body.

He was quiet for a moment, struggling to find words that wouldn’t add to her pain.

“I don’t understand such things and I won’t pretend to understand them. All I can say is that I think no one—human or otherwise—is perfect. If perfection is the standard for normalcy, we all fail.”

“I like that.” She lifted her chin. “I’ve always thought that human beings are all disabled in some way. It’s just that my disability can be seen. It never occurred to me to think of other beings as disabled, too.”

“One might think that vampyrism is a disability. It’s certainly a curse.”

Raven saw the barest hint of despair in William’s eyes.

She knew better than to try to soothe him with pretty lies.

“I’m sorry.”

She reached up and kissed him, almost a brush of the lips.

He looked down at her gravely. “In many ways, we are the most perfect match. We see each other as we are, but neither of us views the other as broken.”

William’s words seemed to Raven to be more of a description of what he hoped was the case, rather than a statement of fact.

She squeezed his shoulders encouragingly.

“I think you’re right, William. As long as I can lean on you, I don’t need my cane.”

“Then lean on me forever.”

“Forever is a long time.”

“Not long enough when you have hope dancing in your arms.”

Raven saw desire and passion on William’s face, his gaze startling in its intensity.

“Kiss me, William. Kiss me and pretend you mean it.”

“I don’t have to pretend.”

His lips descended to hers.

Something had changed. Raven felt it the moment their mouths met.

He’d lowered his defenses and was kissing her with more than just his body. She felt his affection and want, his focus and attention.

Raven wrapped her arms around him. He took her weight, lifting her slightly.

When his kiss lessened, she pulled away and smiled. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For that kiss. I felt it in my heart.”

He brushed his lips against her forehead.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

She nodded.

He swept her into his arms and strode quickly to one of the corridors that led from the large central room. They passed several closed doors until they came to the end of the hall.

William opened the last door and stepped inside.

The room was dark, but within minutes he’d lit candles and placed them around the space. Music could still be heard from down the hall but now it featured the rise of angelic voices singing without accompaniment.

“Who’s singing?”

William approached one of the candles, staring into the flame. He reached out to toy with it, passing his hand through the fire. “They’re called Stile Antico. They sing music that is more to my taste.”

“It’s beautiful. What are they singing?”

“A collection of Renaissance compositions on Song of Songs from the Old Testament.”

Raven looked at her surroundings, at the large, central bed, which was dressed in black satin sheets. The walls were painted purple, the ceiling black. A mirror ran the length of one of the walls, reflecting the bed.

She turned her attention back to William.

“Song of Songs is the only book in the Bible devoted to sex,” she observed.

“It isn’t just about sex. ‘The king hath brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine.’”

“Beautiful.” Raven smiled.

“It’s about sex, seduction, and erotic attraction, but it’s also about affection, tenderness, and play.”

“So the book is about you.” She gave him a saucy look.

“It’s fortunate for me that you think so.”

Raven’s gaze traveled to the erotic photographs on the walls. They were all black-and-white: some featured a man; others featured a woman; but all paid special homage to the human’s neck.

“What is this place?”

William focused on the flame once again. The set of his shoulders telegraphed his reticence.

“Some of the members of the club use these rooms for sex. Intercourse is not permitted in the public spaces.”

Raven frowned. “Have you ever done that?”

“I’ve never had intercourse in the club before. I believe such assignations should be private.” William stood at the foot of the bed, watching her. “We should go.”

“Why?”

“This is not the place for you.” He leaned over and blew out one of the candles.

“Wait.” She caught his arm. “We’re here alone. You’re playing beautiful music. And I want you.”

“That bed has its own memories.” He jerked his chin. “So do the walls.”

“Let’s give them new ones. Good ones.”

William stood before her, cupping her face in his hand. “I didn’t bring you to Teatro for this. I simply wanted a place where we could enjoy one another.”

“Then let me enjoy you.”

She knelt on the bed, her fingers moving to the buttons of his shirt.

He stood, watching her eagerness with no little amusement.

“This is interesting.”

“How so?” She removed his cuff links and peeled the black shirt from his body, throwing it to the floor.

“I’m used to being the seducer.”

She brought her lips to his chest. She kissed across the smooth surface, enjoying his sharp intake of breath when she opened her mouth and tasted his skin.

His chest was hairless and well-defined, as were his abdominal muscles.

“You don’t want me touching you?” She paused, tracing the space where his heart was.

He dropped his voice. “I didn’t say that.”

She felt his broad shoulders and smoothed over his biceps, fascinated by the lines and contours of his muscles, the muted strength.

She gently stroked his abdomen, pressing a kiss just above his navel.

He tangled a hand in her long black hair, letting it slip through his fingers.

Raven touched his belt, her eyes fixed on his.

He nodded.

She undid his trousers, pushing them over his hips. Then she sat back on her knees, taking a moment to admire the V that sloped from his hips.

William stood before her, proudly naked, his erection substantial and strong.

She looked up at him. “Do you ever wear underwear?”

“Never.”

She wrapped her fingers around him, admiring his cool smoothness. Bending and kissing him softly, she brought him into her mouth.

He twined her hair around his wrist, a rumble escaping his chest.

He tasted different. That was the first thing she noticed.

His flesh felt human, but cooler, the skin no doubt tougher. But his flavor was . . . indescribable. Not delicious, certainly, but preferable to a human male, in her estimation.

She pleasured him with her mouth, hoping he was enjoying himself.

By all accounts—the fierce look in his eyes, the sounds from his lips, and the way he clutched her hair—she was successful.

But he was restrained.

He kept tension between his hand and her hair, but didn’t tug or pull. Nor did he push her head down. In fact, he seemed quite content to remain still, allowing her to control the interaction.

“You delight me,” he whispered. “You have an exquisite mouth. But now it’s my turn.”

She smiled up at him, more than a little proud of herself.