Текст книги "The Raven"

Автор книги: Sylvain Reynard

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Chapter Fifty

William didn’t return.

Raven woke up several times, both dreading and hoping to see him. He didn’t appear.

It was Sunday. Lucia prepared an extensive breakfast, but Raven merely picked at the food. She accepted the coffee and orange juice, her mind fixed on what she would say to William when he came back.

Ambrogio reported that his lordship was well but engaged in business. He’d expressed his wish that Raven make herself at home.

Ambrogio gave no indication of when his lordship would return.

Raven spent the day with Lucia, examining some of the lesser pieces of his lordship’s art collection, making notes on areas that would require restoration.

By the time the sun set, William still hadn’t appeared.

At this point, Raven was agitated. She wanted to go home but Ambrogio suggested she was safer at the villa.

She knew his suggestion expressed his lordship’s order. While she chafed at it, she didn’t have an alternative. There were probably at least three hunters free in the city and they knew what she looked like. It was best to stay indoors.

Raven asked to be relocated to one of the guest rooms, but Lucia refused, stating that his lordship wanted her in his room.

Raven lacked the energy to argue with her and so, once again, she curled up on the divan.

Just before dawn Monday morning, she awoke to the sound of William entering the bedroom.

He stood by the closet, undressing with quiet, unhurried movements.

“I know you’re awake. I heard your breathing change.” He placed his clothes in a hamper and walked toward her, naked.

She allowed herself the luxury of admiring his form, even though it made her want to weep. “Where were you?”

William wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Hunting hunters. I caught them, thankfully. I caught all of them, hopefully before they informed the Curia. For the moment, at least, the city is free of hunters. Why are you sleeping there?”

She sat up, pulling the blanket from around her and handing it to him.

“We need to talk.”

His jaw clenched. “Can it wait? I’m still weakened from the attack. I’ve been looking forward to having you in my arms.”

“Just cover yourself, please.”

William muttered a curse, but did as she asked.

Her expression softened as she examined his face. “Are you all right?”

The skin of his face was still reddened, as if he’d been sunburned.

He turned away from her. “It will heal.”

“Since you’re resistant to relics, I would have thought you’d be resistant to holy water.”

He gestured to his face. “This is nothing. If they’d thrown it on Aoibhe, it would have eaten through her skin.”

“Why is it different with you?”

His eyebrows knitted together and he looked irritated. “Can we just rest? It’s been a difficult few days.”

“You asked me why I wasn’t sleeping in your bed. It’s because of her.”

“What the devil does she have to do with it?”

“She said she slept here—that she left you with her chemise.”

William appeared confused.

Then a ray of recognition passed over his perfect features.

“She has never visited me here. This villa repels vampyres. She visited me at my other residence at Palazzo Riccardi.”

Raven swore. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? You said Aoibhe was only an ally.”

“She is.”

“You lied.”

“I did not. Aoibhe is power hungry and manipulative, but she’s my ally and she’s been one for a very, very long time. I don’t trust her but she’s the closest thing I have to a friend on the Consilium. I need her support when dealing with those vipers.”

“Support,” Rave scoffed. “You slept with her.”

William lifted his chin. “I don’t deny it.”

“You’ve been sleeping with her while you’ve been sleeping with me, you arrogant bastard.” Raven stood.

“No, I have not.” William brought his hands to his hips.

“She said she left her clothes in your bed only days ago.”

“Aoibhe’s concept of time is somewhat… flexible.”

“That’s your defense?” Raven’s voice lifted. “That time is flexible?”

“I haven’t slept with her since we’ve been together. You have my word.”

“Why should I trust you? You told me she was an ally; you didn’t mention you were sleeping together. That’s a lie of omission.”

William’s anger began to grow, his eyes snapping. “You are a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“What’s that?”

“You say no man ever wanted you but when one does—and wants you badly enough to risk everything he’s built for you—you tell yourself he’s a liar.”

Raven took a few steps on unsteady feet, her body clad in a long black nightgown.

“What are you risking? Tell me.”

“I can’t.” His eyes grew shuttered.

“God, William. Just talk to me. Please,” she begged.

He straightened his shoulders. “Some secrets I can’t tell.”

“Why not? Have I ever done anything to betray you? Or hurt you?”

William shook his head.

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”

“Not now, Raven.”

She threw her arms up in frustration. “You’re like a walled city. I don’t know how to get in. I don’t even know what your real name is or when you were born.”

“My name is William.”

Raven lifted her arms in frustration. “You have secret lovers like Aoibhe. I know you feed from humans but you won’t tell me about it. How do I know you aren’t fucking around on me?”

He took a step toward her, his eyes flashing.

“What we share in bed, I’m not sharing with anyone else.”

“Why should I believe you when you keep so many secrets?”

“My secrets are for my safety and for yours. If someone were to realize what I’ve told you already, you’d be in danger. They’d try to exploit you to get to me.”

“I’m already in danger. Being with you puts me at risk.”

“Undoubtedly. Which is why you need to let everyone think you’re simply a pet. I’m convinced there’s a group of traitors in my principality. I’m equally convinced Aoibhe is not one of them. That’s why I need her help.”

Raven’s eyebrows drew together suspiciously. “Need her or needed her?”

William reached for her. “I need to explain. She—”

Raven retreated, avoiding his touch. “She’s alive.”

“The hunters shot her with a poisoned arrow but they missed her heart. I was able to remove the arrow and her body regenerated. I also fed her blood from my private cellar.”

“I thought she was dead.”

“If we hadn’t been there, she would be. You saved her life as much as I, Raven, by distracting the hunters. You gave her time for her body to regenerate. And she knows this.”

“Tell her to send a postcard,” Raven sniped.

William adopted a conciliatory tone. “I don’t think the hunters happened upon us. I think someone in my principality informed them of our location.”

“Who?”

“I have yet to discover their identity.”

“Then it could be Aoibhe.”

“If she’d made a pact with the hunters, they’d have let her go.”

“Not necessarily.” Raven’s eyes moved to William’s. “Do you love her?”

William wore an expression of distaste.

“Of course not. The last time I saw her privately, we had an argument and I told her to leave the Palazzo Riccardi and never return. That was long before I brought you here on the motorcycle.”

“But you rely on her.”

“She is the least of a myriad of evils.”

Raven looked stricken.

William watched her cautiously. He saw the hurt on her face. He could hear her heart and breathing, smell her anxiety. But he had no idea how to reassure her.

Truthfully, her reaction had taken him completely off guard. He didn’t have the emotional awareness or experience that would enable him to defuse the situation.

He simply stood, staring.

Raven waited, hoping for a word or caress that didn’t materialize.

She began to feel the icy fingers of despair encroaching on her heart.

“I know what I felt when they shot at you.” Tears filled Raven’s eyes. “I thought they were going to kill you.”

“Cassita,” he whispered, taking her in his arms.

Her tears rained on his chest as he held her, her shoulders shaking.

“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.” His voice broke on the words.

He held her more tightly, as if realizing all of a sudden what her sacrifice meant.

“I’ve been a vampyre since 1274 and no one, no human, has ever come to my aid before tonight. You’ve seen the monster and you haven’t desired death to blot him out of your memory. You honor and astound me.”

Gently, he stroked her hair, brushing kiss after kiss against the top of her head.

At length, she pushed him away.

He looked at her in confusion. “Cassita?”

“I honor you, but you won’t trust me.”

“I just trusted you with my age. I think the better question is, will you ever trust me?” He frowned.

“I’m standing here, William, begging for any truth you can give me. I want to know you.”

He pressed his lips together, his eyes searching hers. But he said nothing.

She looked up at him with tremulous eyes. “Do you love me?”

He took a step toward her, but she held up her hand. “Answer me.”

He spoke softly, patiently. “Vampyres aren’t capable of love. Those feelings were taken with our humanity. As I said, I care for you. I have affection, passion, and respect for you.”

She wiped her eyes and turned away. “I love you, William.”

He froze, his body alert.

“I was drawn to you almost from the beginning. You made me feel things about myself and then I began feeling things about you. That’s why I offered myself to you. I wanted to see how deep our connection could be. When I thought I was going to lose you, I realized that I love you.”

He moved as if to take her in his arms again, but she resisted.

“For a long time, I thought love was not for me. Men who noticed me were few and far between. Almost all of them just became friends with me. You changed my mind. You changed my world. I started believing that maybe someone could love me and I could love him in return. I felt hope, William. You gave me that.”

“Come here.”

“I am not a cripple,” she said fiercely. “I am not a pet.”

“Of course not.” William’s voice was low, soothing. “You’re my Raven.”

“Don’t you understand? If all you feel for me is affection, I am nothing more than a pet to you.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Isn’t it?” She swiped at her eyes. “You feel something for me, but it isn’t love. You say you’ll never love me. All I’m left with is the affection you feel for a friend, or maybe an animal you saw suffering and took pity on.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” His eyes flashed. “I don’t pity you.”

“Perhaps not. But I will never be anything more than a pet in your world. A pet you can’t even trust with your true name. I might not be as beautiful as Aoibhe, or have perfect legs like other women, but I deserve love.”

William gazed at her, his face a mask of confusion and worry.

“I would stay with you, for as long as I lived,” Raven said quietly. “But don’t you see? I’d be miserable. Maybe you can’t ever love anyone. Maybe you can’t love me. I’ll always wonder if today is the day you decide you want someone else and you throw me away.”

“That won’t happen,” he protested.

“You can’t say that. You don’t know the future. But I know my own future, because I know myself. To stay with you, I’d have to give up my hope of having someone love me. I’d have to live with your secrets and my doubts until finally all hope was gone.

“If I stayed with you, William, you would kill my hope.” Two tears trailed down her cheeks. “I won’t let it die.”

“Raven.” His voice was hoarse. “If I were capable of loving anyone, it would be you.”

Raven closed her eyes.

“You say you love me, yet you’re the one leaving?” he huffed.

“I have to.”

He paced the room, back and forth, his hands in fists.

“You’re confused. You say you’re leaving because of love, but really, you’re leaving because of who I am. Because of what I am.”

She opened her eyes. “That isn’t true.”

“This is the way the myth is always told. Psyche will not heed the warnings of Cupid and so she injures them both.”

“Did you warn me not to fall in love with you?” Raven reproached him.

“I told you the story of Allegra. That should have been warning enough.”

“I’m not going to fling myself off a bell tower, William. I’m just flinging my heart overboard, hoping you’ll want it.”

“I want it,” he hissed. “I want you. I will elevate you to consort. You will be a princess among my people. I will shower you with gifts, whatever you desire.”

Raven gave him an empty look.

“Your love would have been gift enough.”

He didn’t have a response for that. He looked around the room, desperate for something, anything that could persuade her.

“I care for you. Didn’t our evening at Teatro demonstrate that?”

“Yes, you loved me with your body.” She gazed at him sadly. “But not with your heart.”

“My heart is part of my body,” he whispered.

“Then love me.”

William met her eyes, then turned away.

He strode to the closet, withdrawing an armful of clothes.

“If you want to go, go. But know this.” He walked to the door. “You are the one who is ending what we shared. Not Aoibhe. Not another woman. And certainly not me.”

He opened the door and entered the hall, slamming the door behind him. The paintings and light fixtures rattled on the walls.

Raven sank onto the divan, burying her face in her hands.

Less than thirty minutes later, Marco was driving her home. She left the sketches on the bed and the bracelet on William’s nightstand.

Chapter Fifty-one

Raven grieved silently and privately.

It would have been embarrassing to confess the explanation for her sadness—that she’d had her universe expanded in a short period of time, tasted passion and affection, and fallen in love only to discover her love would never be reciprocated.

She tried to take consolation in the fact that she’d progressed from thinking that love was not for her to hoping that, someday, it might be. Even if the dream was never realized, the prospect remained.

She tried listening to music.

The first time “White Blank Page” by Mumford and Sons played on her laptop, she switched it off. Then she listened to it several times.

It was while listening to this song that she came to the momentous conclusion that what William believed about the nature of feeding and addiction was wrong.

She craved the experience. She craved him. But her desires for him, sexual and otherwise, were not enough to overthrow her reason. They were not enough to impel her to cast aside hope and crawl back to him.

She took this as an indication that she was stronger than she thought.

She threw herself into her work, volunteering for any and all overtime offered by Professor Urbano. She went on a few day trips with Patrick and Gina, visiting Lucca, Siena, and Pisa.

There were evenings when she thought she saw a dark figure moving in the shadows across the street. Or when she was sure he’d been in her apartment, while she was sleeping.

“You’re the shadow on my wall,” she whispered to the darkness one evening. But the darkness was always silent.

There were no signs of hunters, no more bodies found in the street or down by the river. Whatever battle the principality had waged, it seemed to have won.

Raven found herself relieved the Prince was safe. But beyond that recognition, she did not allow her mind to go.

Instead, she focused on work, on her friends, and on bringing flowers to Angelo’s favorite spot by the Ponte Santa Trinita, hoping that death had brought him peace.

Chapter Fifty-two

The Prince stood high atop the tower of the Palazzo Vecchio, staring down at the Uffizi Gallery. Tourists and locals congregated, sharing conversations and holding hands. Music could be heard in the distance. A few couples danced in the Piazza Signoria.

As his gaze flitted from figure to figure but failed to see the person he was looking for, his mood darkened. He tried to convince himself his longing was temporary—the result of sex and pleasure. But not even his coldest, harshest application of rationality could persuade him that he was unchanged by her.

“You’re brooding.” Aoibhe’s voice sounded at his elbow.

He’d scented her a moment or two earlier. Despite her advanced age and skill, he’d heard her land on the tower’s roof. He didn’t turn around, confident as he was in his assessment of her loyalty and threat level, especially now that he had saved her life.

“I never brood.” The Prince’s voice was cool as he continued to search in vain.

“Then why are you up here, glaring? The night is ours. There’s food and sport to be had, even for someone as dour as you,” Aoibhe said, gently mocking him. “From what I hear, the police have given up their investigation. They have no evidence, no prospects, and a shrinking list of suspects. You must be very pleased.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He scanned the grounds one last time before turning to face her.

“Come now, my prince. While I’ve never seen your vast art collection for myself, I’ve heard rumors. I just don’t understand why you chose to steal from the Uffizi now. Presumably, you already acquired the jewels of the Renaissance while you and Niccolò were enjoying the company of the Medici.”

William sniffed. “I moved in their circle for some time. Niccolò had a fraught relationship with them.”

“So I’ve heard. Could it be that he wrote The Prince for you?”

William offered her an indifferent look before gazing down at the gallery again. He saw a pair of lovers sitting on the steps of the loggia, kissing passionately.

“Where’s the Prince’s little pet this evening?”

“Out,” he rumbled.

“I’m surprised you let her out of your sight, given the way you were with her at Teatro.”

William opened his mouth to protest, but Aoibhe interrupted.

“Don’t bother lying. One might almost say you’re in love with her.”

“Love?” he scoffed. “You know our kind too little.”

“Ah, my prince. I know you only too well.” She moved closer to touch his face.

He sidestepped her. “What do you know of love?”

“Precious little. I’ve tried to forget my time as a human. It made immortality much easier. But there was a boy…” She smiled, a faraway look in her eyes. “After the English lord raped me, the boy didn’t want me anymore.”

“This is your account of love?” William strode to the crenellations, placing his hands on one.

“Maybe the boy didn’t love me. Maybe the ugliness of rape killed his love. I was young and unable to fathom such mysteries.”

She tilted her head, regarding the Prince thoughtfully.

“One might say we have shared love, you and I. Our evenings together were certainly pleasurable. That’s love enough for me.”

“It isn’t enough,” he muttered, leaning forward on the battlements.

She stood next to him, following his gaze to the lovers who were kissing at the loggia. “The kind of love of which you speak is dangerous. It makes one vulnerable.”

Satisfied that the woman entangled in the embrace below was not Raven, he tore his eyes from her.

“We are all vulnerable in some way.”

“Then be vulnerable to me and make me your consort.”

The Prince growled. “You have your answer, Aoibhe.”

“Ah, but circumstances have changed. We both know there are those who are trying to overthrow you.”

“Who are they?” He crowded her.

Fear streaked across her face and she stepped back.

“I would tell you if I knew. I swear it. I think you know I have a fondness for you, my lord. I owe you my life. I pay my debts, which means I’m your ally, at least until I’ve repaid you in kind.”

“I am grateful for your allegiance.” He nodded stiffly.

“I suspect the traitors live among us, that they are intelligent and crafty but not necessarily powerful. They’ve been manipulating others into doing what they could not do—colluding with Venice to have you assassinated, using the ferals to breach the borders. You executed Ibarra, which was probably part of their plan.”

“Are you so sure Ibarra wasn’t a traitor? He’d never failed his tasks before.”

“Precisely. I took Ibarra to bed and questioned him in an intimate moment. He was loyal.”

“Then why didn’t you oppose his execution?”

“I’m fond of my head, my prince. I’d like to keep it.”

William’s body relaxed slightly. “I welcome whatever information you have to offer, Aoibhe, now and in future.”

“I will make enquiries, discreetly, and report my findings to you. I think it’s clear someone has been whispering to the hunters.”

“See that you don’t take anyone else into your confidence. We don’t know how many of them there are.”

“Of course. I suspect Max but he isn’t intelligent enough to mastermind a plot. It’s possible the Venetians approached him, but I doubt it.” Aoibhe placed her hand on the Prince’s sleeve. “Whatever vulnerabilities you have, they are small in number. I saw you fight the hunters. Their weapons had no effect on you.”

He gave her a half smile. “I believe your perceptions at the time were somewhat altered.”

“I was immobilized, not unconscious.” She stared at him for a moment, challenging him with her eyes. “I pride myself in never underestimating others. I’ve known you a very long time and even I underestimated you.”

His smile bloomed disarmingly. “I am an old one, Aoibhe. You know this.”

She shook her head. “I’ve known old ones. I was the lover of one in Paris before I came here. He could not do what you do. No one can. Why would a vampyre with so much power content himself with the city of Florence when he could rule Europe, or the Americas, instead?”

He freed his arm from her grasp.

“Perhaps because I’m not as powerful as you think.”

Aoibhe gazed on him with admiration. “An old Medicean trick—appear humble before the people, so as not to arouse their anger or jealousy.”

He dismissed her remark with a wave of his hand. “Evil has its own logic.”

“I’ve yet to meet an evildoer who’s as concerned as you are with protecting the innocent.”

“Pure pragmatism. We learned our lesson during the Black Death. If we feed on children, we’ll destroy our food supply.”

“Evil doesn’t care about such things and we both know it.” She shivered, glancing over her shoulder. “Besides, that wasn’t the innocence I was referring to. Since you are without your pet for the evening, why don’t you join me at my residence? You look weary and in need of diversion.”

“I won’t return to your bed,” he rumbled.

“As you wish.” She tossed her hair. “I’m sure you’ll find me when you get lonely enough. While you’re brooding, you should reflect on the story of Faustus, the Prince of Sardinia. He elevated his pet to consort and the principality rose up against him and destroyed her. They delivered him to the Curia.”

“I have no intention of taking a consort, Aoibhe. You’d do well to recognize that.”

“I’m not likely to forget it.”

She bowed very low and leapt from the top of the building to the street behind the palazzo before disappearing into the shadows.

The Prince clenched and unclenched his fists before letting out a frustrated cry toward the heavens.