A Hidden Fire

  “You’re still holding me captive, you bastard! You can go to hell, for all I care, but I want to go home. Take me home!”

  Her words burned, and he’d almost given in and taken her back to Texas, but Tenzin had walked over, calmly placed a hand on Beatrice’s arm and knocked her out, catching her as she slumped into unconsciousness.

  Carwyn loaded her on the custom built airplane bound for one of his children’s most remote territories in the south of Chile, where it would be winter and the days would be short. Giovanni had kept a safe house there for over one hundred and fifty years, and no one but the priest and his daughter’s family knew exactly where it was.

  He felt her begin to stir and stopped stroking her hair, backing away from her but staying within arm’s reach in case she panicked. Tenzin had no clothes that would fit her, so Beatrice was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Giovanni’s black shirts.

  She woke with a start, reviving from Tenzin’s amnis and sitting up with a choking gasp. She searched the compartment with panicked eyes until they settled on him. He froze, not wanting to startle her, allowing her to take in her surroundings along with his presence. After a few seconds, her eyes narrowed and she flung herself at him, slapping his face and pushing his shoulders.

  “I hate you! I hate you!”

  He let her release her anger for a few minutes, finally grabbing her hands to halt her punches so she didn’t hurt herself. Though Giovanni had not wept in five hundred years, he felt as if he might when he saw her useless rage and the tears that coursed down her cheeks.

  “I know,” he whispered.

  “I want to go home,” she cried. “Why won’t you just take me home?”

  She tried to hit him again but couldn’t move as he held her, so she twisted away and threw herself on the opposite couch, glaring at him. He took a deep breath.

  “It’s not safe.”

  “You don’t know that, asshole. And I can’t believe you used your mind voodoo on me on top of everything else.”

  “That was Tenzin.”

  “Then I’m pissed off at her, too.”

  She fell silent, staring at a chair in the back of the compartment where he had noticed Lorenzo’s smell was particularly strong.

  “What did he do to you?”

  “What do you care?”

  He rushed over to kneel in front of her at vampire speed, ducking down and forcing her to meet his eyes.

  “What do I care? I have spent the last six weeks doing nothing but trying to get you back, Beatrice. I spent weeks narrowing down where Lorenzo was keeping you. Then I spent weeks in Rome and Athens negotiating to make sure you weren’t going to be caught in a war when I got you away from him. I called on centuries of alliances and personal debts so his allies would not try to take you back or retaliate against Carwyn, Tenzin, and all their families and allies for helping me.”

  He sat back on his heels, his eyes locked with hers as he began to see cracks in her angry shell.

  “Be angry with me, Beatrice. Rail at me and slap me,” he said more softly. “Feel betrayed if you want to, but don’t ask me if I care. And don’t ask me to take you someplace where I cannot assure your safety while you recover.”

  She looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes. They sat in silence for the rest of the flight over the Atlantic, and Giovanni began to feel drowsy as the pull of day dragged him toward sleep.

  Tenzin had influenced the pilot, assuring them he would set the plane down in the private airfield outside of Santiago and safeguard it until the sun had set. From there, Carwyn’s daughter, Isabel, had arranged a small customized plane to Puerto Montt, and after that, ground transport into the interior of Chilean Patagonia.

  By dawn the next day, they would be in Giovanni’s safe house in the Cochamó Valley.

  Beatrice had slipped into fitful sleep by the time he stretched out on the ground next to her, finally succumbing to exhaustion.

  When he woke, the plane was on the ground and she was staring at him.

  “I’ve never seen you sleep before.”

  He frowned. “I don’t think anyone has seen me sleep…maybe since Caspar was very young.” He blinked to clear his eyes. “He would crawl all over me as a child, trying to wake me up to play. It’s very hard to wake me, though it is possible.”

  “You don’t breathe at all.”

  He shook his head slightly. “I only breathe out of habit when I’m awake…and to smell the air.”

  She continued to stare at him, and he lay motionless, letting her examine him from head to toe. He was still wearing the black cargo pants that had been burned in the assault on Lorenzo’s compound, but he had changed into a clean black t-shirt that was not soaked in blood.

  “Why did you cut your hair?”

  “I burned it the night he took you.”

  “Because you got angry?”

  He nodded, but remained silent when she frowned.

  “But you traded me for your books.”

  He sat up and crouched in front of her as she perched on the bench. This time, she did not avoid his gaze.

  “Do you really think he was going to leave without you that night? There were two of his own men in the house and two more you didn’t see guarding the grounds. Don’t think about what he said, think about what you know of him now. Would Lorenzo have left without you?”

  She met his questioning gaze for a few minutes before she looked away. Giovanni waited to see if she would respond, but after a few minutes of silence, he rose to grab the large black duffel near the door. He stood at attention near the exit to the sealed compartment, until Beatrice stood and walked over to him.

  “Where are we going?”

  He held a hand out to her. “Someplace safe.”

  “For how long?”

  He hesitated for a moment, but decided to take a chance. “As long as you want.”

  She looked down at the duffel bag and then at his outstretched hand. Finally, she grasped it, and he helped her off the plane.

  Northern Patagonia, Chile

  August 2004

  Six hours before dawn they were bumping through the rough terrain of the Lakes region on the way to the trailhead leading to the Cochamó Valley. It was pitch black on the forest road, but the skies were clear and Giovanni was grateful they would not have to battle any rain as they made their way to his most southern home.

  She had fallen asleep again, nodding onto his shoulder where he had secured her with one arm so she would be more comfortable in the back of the Range Rover. She’d slept far more than seemed normal, and he suspected it had more to do with stress than physical exhaustion.

  He tried to remember back to his first months of captivity after his sire had taken him, but the human memories were so clouded, Giovanni had trouble remembering exactly how he had felt.

  As they approached the drop-off for the trail head, he began to feel the familiar excitement he always did when he approached the house he considered home more than any other.

  Nestled in the Andes Mountains of Southern Chile, the Cochamó Valley was a U-shaped valley cut by glaciers and surrounded by towering granite peaks. Its remote location and lush forests had attracted one of Carwyn’s more adventurous daughters over two hundred years before. Now Isabel and her husband, Gustavo, made it their home, and their clan of vampires silently watched over the small local population. The incursion of tourism had proven to be a challenge, but not an insurmountable one, as the valley remained reachable only by foot, boat, or horseback.

  The Range Rover neared the small turnoff, and Giovanni leaned forward, still holding on to Beatrice so she wouldn’t fall over. He told the driver to halt and paid him, shaking his hand to make sure the human would have no memory of their trip.

  He slung the duffel bag over one shoulder and reached across to lift Beatrice, who remained sleeping. He walked at human speed, so as not to startle her. As he crossed the bridge, he felt her begin to stir.

  “Gio?” she mumbled. “Where ar
e we?”

  “The last part of the trip, tesoro.”

  “Why did we get out of the car?”

  “There’s no road into the valley. I don’t suppose you know how to ride a horse?”

  She was still half-asleep and rubbed her face into his chest when she responded.

  “I rode a pony at the fair when I was little.”

  He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  “No matter. I can carry you.”

  “At least you don’t have to worry about breaking a horse like you do a car, huh?”

  He smiled, grateful for the sleepy conversation that reminded him of their time together before her abduction.

  “I told you once that I missed horses, remember?”

  “Mmmhmm, I remember.”

  She fell silent, and he suspected she had fallen asleep again, but he felt a small shiver shake her frame.

  “Are you cold?” He reached up to feel her cheek. It was chilled and her teeth began to chatter.

  “Kind of,” she said. Giovanni had bought a sweatshirt for her in Santiago, but in the damp, winter air of the valley, he knew it was too thin. He began to heat his arms and chest, taking care not to warm up too quickly and alarm her. She didn’t seem startled, but burrowed into his chest and sighed.

  “You’re like a seat heater in a car.”

  He smiled again. “There should be more clothes at my house. Isabel said she would bring some warm things to fit you.”

  “It was so cold in his house,” she murmured. “It looked like it should be warm, but I was cold all the time. Cold and damp.”

  His jaw clenched and he leaned down to brush his lips across her forehead. “I’ll make sure you’re not cold, Beatrice.”

  “I know,” she said, and he could feel her press her cheek to his chest as he trudged over the muddy ground. “You’re always warm.”

  He could hear the snorting of horses as he approached the trail head. Walking past the last stand of trees, he saw Gustavo standing between three mounts, who huffed and whinnied in the moonlight.

  The dark-haired vampire walked toward them, holding his hand out and taking the duffel off Giovanni’s shoulder, before he tied it on the back of one of the chestnut mares.

  “¿Está durmiendo?” Gustavo asked.

  “No, she’s just sleepy,” Giovanni responded in English. “I’ll carry her in front of me. Can you lead the other?”

  “Of course,” Gustavo said with a nod.

  “Can you stand for a minute, tesoro?”

  She nodded, swaying a bit and blinking at Gustavo as Giovanni climbed on his mount.

  “Mucho gusto,” she said to their burly host, who smiled in welcome.

  “Welcome to the Cochamó Valley, Beatrice De Novo. You are welcome here.”

  “Gracias,” she said as Giovanni held out a hand. Gustavo helped her up and soon she had curled into his chest and fallen asleep to the rocking of their horses as they made their way into the secluded valley. He held her on his lap, making sure she was not chilled as he spoke quietly with Gustavo about local news.

  A few hours later, they had reached a large wood-shingled house that butted up to one of the granite cliffs. A covered porch stretched around the low structure and jutted out over a green meadow surrounded by towering trees. The interior was lit, and Giovanni could see dark smoke coming from the chimney.

  Beatrice woke when they stopped in front of the house and waited for Giovanni to dismount. He held out his arms and she slid to the ground, stretching muscles that would be sore from the four hour trek.

  “I’ll put these in the stable for you,” Gustavo said as he grabbed the halter of Giovanni’s horse. “You can use them while you’re here, I’ll send one of the Reverte boys over to tend them in the morning.”

  “Thank you, Gustavo.”

  Beatrice looked around. The house was clearly visible in the moonlight, and its small windows glowed gold. He could hear Isabel puttering inside and knew his friend would have already stocked the house with everything Beatrice might need for her stay.

  “This is my home. Isabel and Gustavo let me build here many years ago.”

  She looked around. “It’s beautiful.”

  He nodded and motioned her up the path. “It should be warmer inside. Isabel has already started a fire.”

  “She’s Carwyn’s daughter?”

  “Yes, and Gustavo is her husband. Their clan watches the valley.”

  “Clan?” She frowned in confusion as they walked toward the house.

  “They’re earth vampires.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He continued walking and she followed beside him. “Earth vampires are very domestic. Like Carwyn, they tend to settle and have big families. They usually prefer remote places like this.”

  They climbed onto the porch and she followed him when he stomped the mud off his boots and placed them under a bench. He opened the door and showed her in, immediately taking a deep breath to enjoy the familiar scent of home.

  “Giovanni?” he heard Isabel call from the kitchen, walking toward them with open arms.

  He glanced over at Beatrice, curious how she would perceive the friendly vampire. Like her father, Isabel was one of the most loyal and friendly immortals he had ever met, and her gracious demeanor spilled out in her greeting. Unlike Carwyn, she was Spanish, appeared to be in her late forties, and was around the same age Giovanni was in vampire years.

  She kissed both his cheeks as they exchanged quiet greetings.

  “Beatrice.” She turned to the girl. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m sure you’re exhausted after your journey, so we must visit another time. There are clothes in the front bedroom, and the bathroom is stocked. There are no electric lamps, but there is running water and plenty of candles throughout the house.”

  Giovanni scowled, forgetting that Beatrice might be disturbed by the lack of electricity in the valley. She didn’t say anything except a quiet ‘thank you’ as Isabel kissed both her cheeks and departed. He showed her down the hall and indicated two doors.

  “This is your room for as long as you want it. The bathroom is across from it. My room is at the back of the house,” he said. “Part of it is cut into the rocks, but your room has windows, so it won’t be dark during the daytime.”

  “It’s fine,” she murmured.

  He stood motionless, suddenly nervous to be alone with her and wishing he could secure her in his own room.

  “Beatrice—”

  “I think I’ll wash up and go to my room. Are there books I could borrow?”

  “There are always books.” He smirked and nodded toward the front room. “Help yourself to any from the bookcases in the living room. I keep most of my personal collection here.”

  She smiled for a moment before her eyes clouded. “Fine, I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

  “Did you want me to—”

  “Good night,” she said abruptly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He nodded silently, confused by the sudden shift in her demeanor. He checked the doors, windows, and any other access points, securing them before he went to his room in the back of the house. He was reluctant to leave her, even with the knowledge of Isabel and Gustavo’s ever-present guards, but he sensed she wanted to be alone.

  Giovanni could feel the pull of dawn dragging him under when he heard the first soft cries from her room, and when he dreamed, her accusing eyes haunted him.

  He woke when the sun set and threw on a pair of pants before he went to Beatrice’s room, noticing that her scent lingered in the hallway outside his door. He stood in the hallway, listening for her, but did not sense anyone in the house. Walking out to the kitchen, he noticed traces of her littering the main room, and a fire burned in the large stone hearth. No note indicated her whereabouts, and he immediately began to worry. He walked out to the porch, still barefoot, and searched the dim forest.

  His ears picked up Isabel’s voice calling through the trees. “
Cálmate, Gio. You pace like an irritated cat. She’s at our house; some of the boys were teaching her to ride. She’s fine.”

  He halted on the porch, waiting for Isabel to emerge from the trees before he responded.

  “She needs to leave me a note if she’s going to leave the house. I was about—”

  “Ay, yes, you’d burn down your lovely piece of forest with worry. You’re such an old man! Calm down.”

  He sank into one of the large chairs that decorated the porch and scowled. “I am the same age as you.”

  Isabel rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. And put some clothes on. You’re not impressing me with your muscles and I’m cold just looking at you.” She pretended to shiver as he opened his mouth to respond, but she only held up a hand. “I don’t care if you’re a walking space heater. Go get dressed.”

  Scowling, he went back to his room to change into a pair of the jeans he kept at the house and a long-sleeved thermal shirt. He walked back to Isabel, who sat on the porch, staring up at the stars and smiling a little.

  “Father said she was bright, but I didn’t really believe him.” She winked at Giovanni as he leaned against a dark wooden post and stared into the forest. “A human? And after all, who in her right mind would get involved with you?”

  “You’re so amusing,” he said as he scanned the tree line, searching for a hint of her.

  “But she is. Very smart. And bold. She found her way to the lodge house today and tried to find someone to teach her how to ride a horse.”

  Isabel let out a tinkling laugh. “She had this very elaborate story worked out for Esteban’s family, because she didn’t know what they knew about us. They let her know she didn’t have anything to hide, and then one of the boys started giving her lessons.”

  “Which one?”

  “Does it matter?” she asked with a curious brow. “Oh, I see that it does.”

  She smirked and looked toward the trees again. “One of the big strapping ones that leads the rock-climbing trips, I think.”

  Giovanni growled and walked down the porch steps before she started laughing at him. “She’s with Gustavo now, calm yourself. He’ll bring her back shortly.”