This Same Earth

  She shook her head and glared at him. “What the hell did you want for me? Why didn’t you ever come to Cochamó when you knew I’d be there? Did you want me to miss you? To wonder every night if you were alive or—” She broke off when he held up a hand.

  “You should be quiet unless you want an audience,” he muttered, looking at the trees again.

  “What? What are you talking about?” She craned her neck, trying to see in the darkness.

  Giovanni sighed. “Benjamin, stop hiding in the trees and come introduce yourself.”

  “Benjamin?” Her eyes narrowed. “Ben?”

  “Are you going to be mad at me?” She heard a child’s voice call from the shadows and looked back at Giovanni, who was sitting with an expression both sulking and amused.

  “No.” He stood and reached for her hand. “Just come out.” He muttered something else in Italian she didn’t understand.

  “Will you please tell me what is going on?” Beatrice walked down the steps, clutching her helmet in front of her. At the edge of the trees, she saw a boy emerge holding onto a bicycle and looking at Giovanni with a crooked smile. He was thin and a bit clumsy as he emerged from the brush, but his sharp brown eyes looked her over, and a smile grew on his face.

  “Are you Beatrice?”

  “Are you the Ben who was asking for me last week?”

  He grinned and nodded. “Yep. That guard actually told you? I didn’t think he would.”

  Giovanni frowned. “What do you mean, you were asking after her?”

  Ben looked at Giovanni innocently. “Well, you were so nervous about talking to her—”

  “Tell me why you’re out on your bike at nine-thirty, Benjamin.” Giovanni interrupted.

  Oh really? So Giovanni wasn’t quite as confident as he seemed. She smirked and looked over to Ben, who grinned at her.

  “I was wondering whether my uncle was going to provide a delicious and nutritious meal for me. Family time is so important and all.”

  Giovanni cocked an eyebrow in the boy’s direction. “And I suppose you missed the note about the leftovers in the fridge?”

  “Wait,” Beatrice held up a hand. “Uncle? Am I missing something here?”

  “Only me,” Ben said with a mischievous smile, “but I’m here now, so no need to worry.”

  Giovanni reached over and pinched the boy’s ear. “Don’t be rude. Introduce yourself.”

  Ben propped his bike on the kickstand and held out his hand. “Benjamin Vecchio. Former pickpocket, con man, runaway, and fake nephew of the vampire to your right. You must be the beautiful Beatrice.”

  She held out her hand and Ben took it, bending down to kiss the back in a gallant gesture. She chuckled and looked at Giovanni. “And you think you’re charming?”

  Giovanni rolled his eyes as Ben continued kissing up her arm. He reached over and tugged Ben’s collar, pulling him away from Beatrice, who was still laughing.

  “Stop it, she’s too old for you.”

  “Well, technically,” Ben said with a smile, “she’s way too young for you, old man.”

  “Do you like that Xbox I bought you? How about the daily meals?”

  “Shutting up now,” Ben quipped. “But really, Beatrice, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “Um…” She paused. “Likewise. And please call me B, only the professor here calls me Beatrice. So you’re his fake nephew, huh?”

  Giovanni put an arm around Ben’s shoulders. “My poor, departed brother’s child. Tragic accident.”

  “Very tragic,” Ben nodded solemnly. “I still cry sometimes. Not really. My real parents were assholes.”

  She nodded along, trying to integrate this new, paternal side of the vampire. She knew it shouldn’t surprise her—after all, he had raised Caspar—but it was still difficult to think about the man that made her blood boil with anger and desire in equal measure being, for all practical purposes, a father.

  Despite the fact he was over five hundred years old.

  “Okay then, well, on that very interesting note—”

  “Do you ride a motorcycle?” Ben pointed at her helmet. “Cool! Can I see it?”

  “Um, sure. I guess. I mean if it’s okay with Gio…”

  Giovanni nodded, probably glad he had managed to trap her into further conversation. They walked toward the parking lot and she looked over at Ben. “How did you get all the way here? Where do you guys live?”

  “Well,” Giovanni started, “I happened to find an appropriate house—”

  “We just live a couple blocks from here! Gio thought it would be great ‘cause he could walk to where you work instead of worrying about the driving thing. I keep telling him he should teach me to drive, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about breaking cars, but he tells me I have to wait till I’m fourteen, or at least until my feet touch the pedals.”

  “So you could walk to where I work, huh?” she muttered under her breath, knowing he could hear her, even if Ben could not. He simply cocked an eyebrow at her and shrugged.

  “I told you I was here for you. And the house next to yours was too small.”

  “You wouldn’t—”

  “Is that your bike? It’s awesome! I’ve never seen one like that. Gio, can I have—”

  “No,” he said quickly and looked at her with a smirk. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear. “Very sexy. I can just imagine your legs wrapping around—”

  “So, Ben,” Beatrice cleared her throat as she interrupted the thought she really didn’t want him to finish. “Want to sit on it?”

  “Cool!” Ben threw his bike on the ground and scrambled over to Beatrice’s Triumph. As she helped the boy onto the back and explained some of the features of the bike, she could feel Giovanni’s gaze as if it was a physical touch. She tried to concentrate on Ben’s enthusiasm and ignore what the vampire’s eyes were doing to her heart rate.

  “So,” Ben said, “are you going to take the job? He asked you already, right?”

  “Wha—what job?” She looked over her shoulder at Giovanni, who was frowning and glaring at Ben in frustration. He closed his eyes and she thought she saw his lips move like he was counting.

  “Oh.” Ben grinned meekly. “I guess not. Oops.”

  She walked over and stood in front of Giovanni with her hands on her hips.

  “What job?”

  Chapter Four

  Los Angeles, California

  October 2009

  “Tell me more about my dad.”

  “Is this really the time, Beatrice?”

  Giovanni looked up from the letter he was examining and around the reading room at the Huntington. They were finishing up the letters in the collection and, so far, he was relieved they hadn’t found what he was expecting.

  Beatrice whispered as she paged through a journal from a Franciscan friar in San Francisco. “Since you’re not going to convince me to work for you, I think now would be an excellent time.”

  “I really wish you’d reconsider.”

  “I’m sure you would.”

  He smirked and slipped his hand over to trace along the skin of her forearm. She batted him away, but he could still feel her heart race.

  “Stop it.”

  “I can almost promise my benefits package is better than the Huntington.”

  He saw her trying to suppress the smile. “Did you just say ‘package?’” she snickered.

  Giovanni cleared his throat and glanced at Dr. Stevens, who was looking at them. He smiled politely and nodded in the librarian’s direction.

  “You are never allowed to call me juvenile again, Gio.”

  “I never called you juvenile in the first place.”

  She cut her eyes toward him. “You thought it, though.”

  He let his eyes roam over her. “Not in a long time.”

  “Nice way to distract me, by the way. Tell me about my dad.”

  Giovanni rolled his eyes. “Your father is very good at hiding.”

  “He never contact
ed me. Do you think he even knows that I want to see him?”

  She had cocked her shoulders in his direction and he wished he could reach over and smooth the frown that had gathered between her eyes. “Yes, I’m quite sure he does.”

  “So why wouldn’t he—”

  “He’s avoiding me.”

  That only caused the frown to grow. “But why would he avoid you?”

  “Oh…” He cleared his throat and glanced up to see Dr. Steven’s watching them again. “You forget that he spent his formative vampire years with Lorenzo. I very much doubt my son has any nice things to say about me.”

  “But you said he would hate Lorenzo.”

  “And I’m sure he hates Lorenzo’s sire, as well.”

  He saw her face fall a little. “But, you’ve protected me. You’ve…you said I was seen as ‘yours’ so wouldn’t he know you were protecting me?”

  Giovanni scanned one letter and began on another. “I’m sure he doesn’t know what to think. And he’s been quite elusive, so I’m sure he doesn’t trust me.”

  Beatrice fell silent. They both worked quietly as the minutes passed. He was running out of time. He knew they would find the provenance on the journal eventually, or he would run out of research material, and then he would have no regular excuse to see her since she refused to quit her job and come work for him.

  “I was in Shanghai a few years ago meeting with some old contacts. I was able to see some amazing martial arts demonstrations. You would have loved them.” He knew Beatrice had developed an interest in self-defense and martial arts in the years they had been apart. Considering her kidnapping, it was not a surprise.

  He saw her smile. “Are you trying to tempt me with exotic travel and intrigue if I come work for you?”

  “Yes. Is it working?”

  She looked around the reading room and over at Dr. Stevens, who was still watching her like a hawk, no doubt wondering why Giovanni had requested her specifically. He’d have to alter the woman’s memories again before he left for the night.

  “I like Southern California.”

  “Good, we’ll make our base here and come back in between research trips.” He continued before she had time to interrupt. “Have I told you how nice it is to be working with you again? Or in a library at all, for that matter? I’ve been doing irritating political things in the past few years. Very annoying. I have to talk with all sorts of unpleasant people who like to hear themselves speak. Whining and simpering. They all remind me of my time with my father.”

  “What kind of political things?”

  “Oh, visiting people that owe me favors. Trying to determine what my son is up to. A kind of intelligence gathering, I suppose. All those things I tried to avoid for the past three hundred years.”

  She snorted. “I’d apologize, but you’re the one who made him.”

  “No apologies necessary. I put the matter of dealing with him off for too long.”

  “And your books? Andros’s library?” She put down the journal she’d been working on and picked up another. “Any clues about that?”

  “A bit. The majority of it remains a mystery, but he’s sold off some of the more easily moveable pieces of the collection, so I’ve reacquired a few things. You really must have wiped him out when you took his accounts, tesoro.”

  “That’s always nice to hear.”

  “And you appear to be doing quite well financially.”

  Giovanni saw her smirk. “I don’t have to worry about paying the bills, no.”

  He gave a quiet chuckle. “So I’ve collected a few more of my father’s books. I’ve tried to track your father. I’ve reestablished myself among some allies. Then I found Benjamin, and that’s been quite the project.”

  “Sounds like you were busy,” she said in a small voice.

  “And I missed you every day.”

  She was silent for a few long minutes. He wondered if she would respond at all.

  “You knew where to find me,” she finally said.

  Giovanni had no answer for her. He had known where to find her, but he had also known that she needed time to grow and mature. He only hoped he could convince her that it was worth giving him another chance.

  “Beatrice—”

  “So have you heard anything more about Lorenzo? He still staying under the radar?”

  He sighed and picked up another letter. “He has been. I’ll hear something every now and then about him or one of his children, but for the most part he’s been quiet.”

  “Why do I find that disturbing?”

  “Probably because it’s easier to kill the snake on the path than the one in the rocks.”

  She looked at him. “That’s an excellent description of him.”

  “A snake?” He cocked an eyebrow. “It’s an accurate one.”

  She murmured under her breath, “He’s like this ghost in the back of my mind. I try to forget him, but…”

  He reached over and squeezed her hand quickly. “Don’t forget about him until he’s dead.”

  Beatrice shook her head. “Why did I ever fool myself?”

  He frowned. “What? What are you talking about?”

  She looked at him for a long moment before she turned back to the journal she’d been studying. “Nothing.”

  Giovanni knew it wasn’t nothing, but he also knew she wouldn’t tell him. They worked silently together for another half an hour. Finally, he saw her studying a page in the journal intently and her heart began to race.

  “Here,” she said quietly, but there was no victorious smile on her face. He took the journal from her and studied the page she had pointed to. “Found a mention in the Catalan’s notes.”

  “Let me see,” he said as he read the pages from the old book, reading about the young priest the father had met and how they compared journal notes on the journey up the California coast. It was consistent with the diary his client had acquired. It gave him a name and a year. It was as much as he could hope for from the Huntington collection.

  “Guess I found your provenance,” Beatrice said.

  His eyes raked over her face. “I always knew you would.”

  Beatrice thrust her hip back, tossing her sparring partner over her shoulder. The large man hit the floor with a loud slap, and she straightened with a grunt as her sensei smiled from across the mat. She held a hand out to her partner to help him up. They bowed to each other and shook hands as they finished the freestyle judo practice.

  Pete called out, “B, you are on a roll today! What’s gotten into you? Very nice randori, both of you. Very nice.” The wiry, grey-haired man strode across the mat and shook both Beatrice and her partner’s hands before all three walked to the lockers near the free weights. “B, you still have one of the strongest harai goshi I’ve seen. I know you were dissatisfied with your last teacher, but your forms are really strong.”

  She nodded and wiped the sweat from her eyes. “Thanks. He was great, I just felt like he’d taken me as far as I could go in my training. I felt like I was in a rut, you know?”

  Pete nodded and slapped her shoulder. “No worries, I understand. Sometimes a relationship just runs its course. I hope you parted on good terms.”

  Beatrice nodded and untied her belt, taking off her heavy judogi and stripping down to a tank top to hit the punching bags on the side of the studio.

  “How long have you been studying?”

  “Judo?”

  Pete nodded.

  “Well, when I first moved out to L.A., I started studying martial arts. First, it was just some tai chi at the university. A friend suggested it. Then I decided to take a self-defense class—”

  “Always a good idea for anyone.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, I can agree with that. Anyway, the place I went to taught judo and jujitsu, too, so I got interested that way. I’ve been studying almost five years now.”

  She slipped on her gloves and Pete joined her at the bags. They both began hitting the teardrop shaped speed bags that hung from
platforms in the low ceiling. Soon, Beatrice was zoning out to the sound and the rhythm of the quick punches as she tried to release the stress of the day and her last meeting with Giovanni.

  Focus, focus, focus, she thought as she tried to wipe the image of his deep green eyes from her mind.

  “Your focus is really impressive,” Pete said as he worked the bag to her right. “You should be proud of yourself. You look like you’ve been studying twice as long.”

  “That’s nice to hear.” Even though I’m completely distracted at the moment.

  Suddenly, he grinned. “What did you like about judo at first? I can almost guess.”

  Beatrice laughed. “I saw this little girl toss a guy about a foot taller and seventy pounds heavier than her.”

  Pete chuckled as he continued hitting the bag. “Yeah, that’ll do it. It’s pretty great when you realize you can take down someone way stronger than you if you know what you’re doing and use their own strengths against them, right?”

  She shook her head. “Pete, you have no idea.”

  “Why am I so upset?” Beatrice asked as she drank another glass of wine at Dez’s apartment.

  Dez only raised an eyebrow. “Because you now have no handy excuse to see the man you’ve been in love with for five years?”

  “I’m not in love with him.”

  “Yeah.” Her best friend snorted. “Whatever.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Okay, then you’re upset because…you’re going to miss the challenge of the project? That is way cooler than most of the stuff we do.” Dez couldn’t contain the grin. “I mean, what a cool job! When you worked for him before, did you ever have a kind of treasure hunt like that? Or was it mostly research and catalogue work?”

  Dez sat on the edge of her seat while Beatrice stared at her. “Uh…there may have been a mystery or two that we worked on, yeah.”

  “And did you solve it? I mean, how does that work? That’s got to pay pretty well, right? It’s like hiring a private detective to find something. Only it’s someone who knows rare books! Do you think he’s looking for an assistant? I would totally dig something like—”