Wild Fire

  “What difference does it make anyway?” Lilith asked. This was the first response from the werelions to the new revelations. Russell looked perplexed by events, but Lilith appeared to have accepted them and moved on. “Whether they’re seeing visions from the gods or interpreting nature, doesn’t it really boil down to mere guess work?”

  Andreas’s lips twitched. Count on Lilith to be the skeptical one. It was not surprising that she and Arianna got along so well.

  “Perhaps.” Daron shrugged. “I am not so much interested in the truth of such predictions as knowing what the O-Seven believes is the truth.”

  “So we can figure out what they’re likely to do,” Russell said, drawing the logical conclusion.

  “That was the idea. However, until we have better information, we will have to—as Lilith says—make our best guess.”

  “That’s not hard. The O-Seven wants Andreas and Ari dead or under their control.” The lioness titled her head toward Andreas to elicit his opinion. “Porbius already voted for death once, but Bastian seems on the fence. Does he have some use for you? Something the rest of the council doesn’t know?”

  “I would not be surprised,” Andreas said. “He keeps trying to recruit me…and was uncomfortable when Porbius showed up.”

  Mike spoke up. “Can we turn them against one another? It sounds as if they don’t like each other.”

  Daron made a gruff sound in his throat. “None of the elders like each other. But these two do seem to have a special animosity.” He pursed his lips. “Bastian’s ambitions may have grown to the point that he foresees a future without the rest of the elders. That would be an incredibly interesting development to sit back and watch—if you, Andreas, were not caught in the middle.” He gave Andreas an assessing look. “If Bastian wants you on his side, he may be willing to avoid a showdown as long as he believes you could change your mind.”

  “It is more than me or Arianna.” Andreas punctuated his words with sharp gestures. “Bastian is seeking allies, gathering IOUs, wherever he can get them. He is here, is he not? So, what happens next? How do we keep him hopeful?”

  “Wait a minute.” Lilith sat forward in her chair. “Ari gets back tonight. If you hope to convince Bastian that we’ll play along with his ambitions, you’d have to keep her away from him.” She appealed to Andreas. “You know I’m right. She…lets it all hang out there.”

  Andreas’s lips curved briefly at this somewhat accurate description of his wife. It was difficult for her to hide her true feelings, especially her hatred for the O-Seven. But he’d seen her do it if the stakes were high enough.

  “She will cope if she has to, but the need may not arise. Arianna returns to Riverdale shortly after seven, but her plane will not arrive in Toronto until midnight. Even with a late start, the meeting may be over by then.”

  Lilith narrowed her eyes. “I just heard about the one-hour delay. What’s that about? Flexing their muscles? Or are they up to something?”

  Everyone had an opinion, but no one knew the answer. If the elders were engaged in some nefarious plot, they’d probably know soon.

  “We could be here all night trying to figure them out, but what are we going to do about it?” Mike finally asked. “We know Porbius is spoiling for a fight. These guys have dangerous psychic abilities. If they get seriously pissed, how do we avoid being wiped out?”

  Before anyone could respond, the doors opened and Gabriel walked in followed by Raphael and Bolivar. Surprised to see them, Andreas glanced at his watch. Five-thirty. They had wasted almost two hours.

  “What’s this about a message?” Bolivar demanded.

  Daron motioned toward the table. “We were discussing it. Please join us.”

  Once they were seated, they brought the newcomers up to speed. By the time they returned to Mike’s question, Andreas churned with frustration. He took a deep breath and took a good look at the faces of his companions. He wasn’t the only one feeling the stress.

  Daron’s tension showed in the way his fingers drummed on the table. “My biggest concern is a psychic attack from the entire council. Andreas knows how bad that can be, but with Bastian and Porbius in the same room with us, even a small amount of power from Germany would be insurmountable.”

  Startled, Andreas glanced up at him. “Are you implying it would be different if you could cut them off from the other elders? That you and I have the power to stop Bastian—a master of mind control—and Porbius? Perhaps you do, but I am not even close to that level.”

  “You might not need to be,” Daron said. “I have thought of a rather radical way to even the odds.”

  “Which is?” Andreas and Daron were talking to one another now, ignoring the others around the table. They were the only two that would be in the room with the elders, and if things went wrong, they would be the first to die.

  “Iron. Cold iron. We could seal the room with it.”

  Andreas stared at him, thinking. “It would absorb most of the magic, including ours. Everyone would be forced to rely on ordinary skills.” He lounged back in his chair. Yes, the elders would be cut off, and so would he. Contact with Arianna would be impossible, but if things went as planned, she’d be back in Riverdale and they would have talked before the meeting started. The elders’ delay might actually work to his advantage.

  He sorted through the possibilities of what would happen if it came to a fight. Daron was bulky and strong; probably a good match for Bastian who had a similar build. Andreas was quick, and his athletic abilities were good. Not as good as Porbius. He shot a look at Daron. “You realize that Porbius has exceptional agility, which may carry over to his hand-to-hand combat. He leapt on top of a building last night.”

  Daron shrugged. “We can hope that it is magic-based. We will have armed guards outside if needed. Do you have a better suggestion?”

  “Not off hand.”

  Russell turned to Mike. “It would have to be a small meeting room. Could we line every wall, the floor and ceiling, and seal them before eight o’clock?”

  “I get to shoot anyone that tries to leave without our OK,” Lilith said.

  “I’d love a chance at them with my sword,” Gabriel said. “Have I mentioned the duel I fought in London?”

  Mike ignored the side comments and stood. “I’m sure we can get it done in time. How about using one of the five anterooms?”

  “If we are all agreed on the plan, then take your pick.” Daron eyed Andreas for confirmation.

  Andreas nodded, and his lips curved. “I begin to understand Gabriel’s sense of anticipation. If the elders are plotting to overpower us with their magical abilities, the looks on their faces when they discover the power drain will be worth whatever comes next.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Abigail lay awake in the dark. The storm had stopped by the time they’d left the shelter of the ruin, but both of them were still soaked when they’d reached Fico. Her emotions were a jumble of amazement, awe, fear, panic, excitement…and love. She had no idea why Andreas couldn’t hear the sheer volume of her thoughts when he stole a last kiss outside the inn.

  Once inside, she spent the rest of the evening cleaning her wet, muddy clothes, bathing—which was a complicated process in 1813—washing her hair—which was even worse—and trying not to obsess about everything that had happened. When she and her clothes were clean again, she packed what she could, left the rest out to dry, and crawled into bed.

  She sighed, happy yet unsettled, and placed a hand gently over her stomach. A new life. A miracle. She’d thought any hope of children was gone when she’d fallen in love with a vampire.

  Abigail sat up in bed, filled with sudden insight.

  If the Goddess approves, there is always a way. That’s what Rosalina had said to her years ago. When she’d had the first dreams of Andreas—the dreams that would fulfill the Legend of Ramora and reveal her soul mate—she had consulted the family seer.

  She smiled, recalling how she’d tried to deny it, arguin
g, among other things, that she couldn’t be mated with a vampire because they were sterile and she had a duty to produce the next generation.

  Had Rosalina known what would happen when she uttered those words or just trusted in destiny?

  Abigail lay down again, calmer now. But what about the more practical, personal issues? She was leaving tomorrow, taking the baby beyond Andreas’s reach. She hadn’t said anything to him, but she’d been tempted. Was silence the right thing?

  And what about when she got home? What would he think then? Would he be pleased with the way destiny that had caught up with them? She rolled on her side, her eyelids drooping as she drifted toward sleep. A smile crept across her lips, and one hand still cupped her stomach.

  * * *

  Abigail woke to sounds of a busy inn and voices in the yard. She’d slept late. She stretched and sat up, the thought of the baby bringing an instant grin. She got up, pulled her dress over her head, and sat on the edge of the bed staring at her shoes. Despite her best efforts to clean them, they were still covered with dried streaks of mud. She grabbed a handkerchief and began to scrub them again.

  Today was her last day. All she needed was the ring, and she could go home. Abigail’s hand paused in the act of wiping the second shoe. Her heart took a hard thump.

  What if she didn’t go? What would it be like to stay here, make a life with Andreas, and raise their child together? He loved her, even now, even before any of the life they’d shared back home. Tuscany was beautiful, and they could be a normal family without interference from the O-Seven. Andreas would never go back to London, and he would never become a vampire.

  They could be happy.

  The future would be changed.

  And she’d never know Andreas, the vampire prince.

  Her chest tightened with a pain so sharp she nearly gasped. She took a shaky breath and began polishing the shoe again.

  After she finished dressing, she made sure her belongings were neatly collected in her bag, and she took one more look around.

  She heard a knock at her door. It was one of the servants.

  “You have a visitor, Signorina.”

  Andreas?

  Abigail hurried down the stairs and stopped at the bottom.

  “Emily, you’ve saved me the trouble of tracking you down today. Thomas will arrive this afternoon, and I’ll be leaving. Can you stay for coffee and talk for a while?”

  “Naturally.” Emily wrapped her in a quick hug. “That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t allow you to leave without wishing you luck on your journey.”

  They walked into the side room that was still set with the breakfast tray and a basket of fancy breads. Abigail poured two cups of espresso.

  Emily sat down and gave Abigail a knowing look. “You’ve spent a lot of time with Andreas the last week. What happens now? Are you just going to leave?”

  Abigail sighed. “I have to. I admit I’ll miss him, but we’ve always known I would return to America. It’s where I live. I have a life there.”

  “You don’t have Andreas there.”

  If only she knew, but there was no way Abigail could reveal that secret. “There is someone…very like him.”

  “Oh.” Emily absorbed that. “Does Andreas know?”

  “No. And you must not tell him.” Abigail leaned forward and spoke urgently, anxious to make her understand. “Promise me. I don’t want to hurt him. I know it sounds strange, because I haven’t known him long, but I…I love them both.”

  “I won’t tell.” Emily glanced around and lowered her voice. “What a wonderful…and awful situation.” She placed her hand over Abigail’s. “Do be happy. I hope you will think about us from time to time.”

  “More often than you can imagine.”

  They had almost finished their breakfast when they heard the sounds of a new arrival in the foyer. And then raised voices.

  “Did someone say your name?” Emily asked. “Your brother may be here.”

  Abigail shoved her cup aside and hurried to the morning room door. Manfred, Signor Valvano’s manservant, was halfway up the stairs to the second floor rooms; Signora Paglia was barring the way, speaking sternly in rapid Italian.

  “Are you looking for me?” Abigail stepped forward.

  Manfred’s head swung around. He abandoned Mrs. Paglia and hurried toward Abigail. “Signorina Foster, you must come at once. Signor… he will not wake up. He told me if something happened I should get you.”

  “Oh, no.” Despite expecting the news, her heart contracted. “Where is Andreas? Have you sent for the doctor?”

  “Si, Si! All is taken care of.” The normally calm manservant was clearly distressed.

  Abigail turned to Emily and took her hand. “Thank you for everything. You’ve been an amazing friend to me. But I think I should go.”

  “Of course. You must see if there is anything you can do.” Emily followed them outside and waved good-bye to Abigail as Manfred drove the carriage away from the inn. “Have a safe journey to America.”

  Abigail returned the wave, then focused on Manfred. “How bad is it?”

  “I am afraid Signor nears the end.”

  There seemed nothing more to say after that, so Abigail rode in silence until they reached the De Luca casa. Manfred left the team in front of the house and escorted her inside.

  Andreas sat next to Fredrico’s bed with his head bowed. He looked up and stood when she entered. “Abigail. Thank you for coming. I would not have sent for you, but Manfred insisted.” He frowned at the servant.

  “Signor Fredrico left me clear instructions,” Manfred said. “I have done as he wished, now I must take care of the team.” He left without waiting to see if Andreas had anything more to say. Or maybe he hurried away to avoid his questions.

  Abigail glanced at the still figure in the bed. “I was happy to come. I promised Fredrico I would be here. It seemed important to him.”

  “He took quite a liking to you.” Andreas’s smile was warm, intimate. “Of course, that does not surprise me.” He motioned to the chair. “Please have a seat. How do you feel today?”

  “What?” Abigail’s gaze whipped to his face so fast she almost stumbled. He couldn’t possibly know about the baby.

  “After getting caught in the rain.” He raised a questioning brow. “I trust you did not suffer any ill effects?”

  “Oh, no. I’m fine.” Then she blushed, wondering if he was really referring to the lovemaking. Well, she was fine about that too.

  She sat by the bed and studied the old man’s face. He looked peaceful, but distant. It was the eyes, she decided. With them closed, the lively intelligence that was such a part of Fredrico was missing. The covers were pulled up to his chest, which barely moved from his shallow breathing. His hands lay at his sides, unnaturally still…and bare.

  She stifled a gasp. Where was the ring? She couldn’t have come this far to fail now. He normally wore two rings and both were gone. Were they removed and set aside before he went to bed? She stole a glance around the room, but didn’t see the emerald or the small gold ring he wore on the other hand. She couldn’t ask. What now?

  The doctor arrived a few minutes later. She and Andreas stepped out during the examination, but it didn’t take long.

  “He is beyond my help.” The doctor shook his head sympathetically as he carried his medical bag toward the front door and his carriage waiting outside. “I doubt he shall wake again. I’ll be back this evening.”

  Once the doctor left, it was just a matter of waiting. Andreas left twice to deal with vineyard workers at the door. On the one occasion that Andreas and Manfred were both absent from the room, Abigail made a quick search for the ring without finding anything. She hadn’t quite made it back to her seat when Manfred returned.

  “Just stretching my legs,” she explained.

  His face revealed nothing. “I have—” He stopped as Andreas entered the room. “I was just about to tell Signorina Foster that refreshments are set up in the mor
ning room. It may be a long day.” He bowed and left.

  Abigail looked after him thoughtfully. Was that really what he’d intended to say? Did he suspect she’d been searching the room? An uneasy knot tightened in her chest as if she’d done something wrong.

  After the short break, where neither Abigail nor Andreas ate much, they took a stroll around the garden, and then returned to sit at Fredrico’s bedside. They talked occasionally, and Andreas recounted stories of his great-papa taking the De Luca boys fishing, and teaching them to ride, and the excursion to their first prize fight. Late in the afternoon, Fredrico drew his last breath and peacefully slipped away.

  Andreas slumped with his head lowered into both hands. She rose and placed her hand on his shoulder. After several minutes, he covered her hand with his, got up, and they left the room.

  Abigail’s heart was heavy. Sadness at Fredrico’s death and her failure to obtain the precious heirloom mixed in a despair that brought her close to tears. How could she go home without the ring? The virge wouldn’t be enough. Fredrico had said it was only for temporary use. The real power was in the Valvano crest.

  So what were her options? Rob the house after they were asleep? Where would she look? Did they have a safe? She hated the role of a cat burglar. It was a betrayal of the hospitality shown by this family.

  She sighed in resignation. Whatever it took. She’d have to return at dark, cloak herself in an invisibility spell, and search the entire house.

  “It was good of you to stay. Thank you.” Andreas spoke from directly behind her.

  Guilt kept her from looking at him. She headed toward the front door. “He was a sweet man, and I very much enjoyed meeting him. I’m so sorry for your loss, but I must go now. My brother should be at the inn. I left a message, but he will be anxious for my return.”

  “Abigail, please look at me.”

  Her steps faltered, and she reluctantly turned.

  “I don’t know what to say to you,” he admitted. His voice was uncertain. “So much has happened in such a short time. Should I apologize for yesterday?”