“Stop now, Papà!”

Lorenzo held a sword to her throat as Beatrice snarled and Livia’s guards restrained her. Giovanni stilled immediately. The ground beneath him grew still. Everyone froze exactly where they were.

“I’ll cut her head off given the word.”

“Hold, Lorenzo,” Livia said as she stepped between them. “I have no reason to harm the girl.”

His eyes darted to Beatrice, who was held by four guards, arms twisted behind her back. The water of the fountain has risen behind her, but it did nothing but spill over the sides, drenching the floor and trickling down the stairs. Giovanni growled, but forced the fire back. He looked for Carwyn, who was surrounded by more guards, though they did not touch him. His old friend was watching the scene with a calculating blue stare.

“Livia!” Emil Conti pushed forward. “What is the meaning of this? What kind of violence have you allowed in your own home? And toward your guests?”

Giovanni could tell the crowd was as confused as Conti was. A low murmur began to rumble and a frantic energy filled the air, causing his heart to beat faster.

“Emil, thank you for asking.” Livia raised her voice, the small woman speaking with authority as she continued to stare at him. “I am taking Giovanni di Spada as my prisoner. It is my right.”

Conti sputtered. “What? What ri—”

“I accuse him here as the murderer of my husband, Niccolo Andros, his own sire.”

The murmur grew. Emil Conti drew back, a horrified look on his usually placid face. Livia stepped closer, standing in front of Giovanni and looking up as the fire coursed along his collar and the guards held onto his leather-clad torso and legs.

“You foolish boy!” Livia spat out and slapped him. “Don’t you know? No secret stays hidden forever.”

A red haze fell over his eyes, and Giovanni opened his mouth to speak, but a breath of air whispered in his ear.

“Silence, Jacopo.”

His eyes darted around the room, stunned by the sound of the name only one other knew. The glittering immortals of Rome were tittering like panicked birds as Livia and Emil argued. The whisper came again.

“Say nothing to her.”

Giovanni blinked and looked again. Carwyn was staring at him in shock. Beatrice was standing by the fountain, but the sword had been lowered from her neck. Everyone around them was frozen, as if waiting for a command. He was sure that no one else had heard the ghostly whisper.

He looked to Beatrice and her eyes met his, pleading with him. She was furious. Frightened. He mouthed, ‘Ti amo’ at her, frowning when she began to struggle again. Just then, an apparition took shape behind her; a man appeared from the shadows of the room.

He was dressed in long, flowing robes, and he held a finger up to his lips. He glanced at Beatrice, and his mouth moved in a silent murmur. A moment later, the whisper came to Giovanni’s ear.

“Do not worry for your woman, Jacopo. Be still. Be silent. Give your enemy nothing.”

Giovanni stopped struggling, and a strange calm stole over him.

Because when an immortal as ancient as Ziri spoke, he listened.

Chapter Nine

Castello Furio

June 2012

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. Everything seemed to move in slow motion around her, as if the castle had been plunged to the bottom of the sea. Silent. Why was it so silent?

Beatrice stood frozen as Livia’s guards pulled Giovanni away into the twisted maze of the castle. Finally, what felt like dozens of hands released her, and she lifted her arms with an unspoken scream. A roaring filled her mind, like a river rushing over a cliff, and she felt the pulse of energy behind her.

The water in the fountain rose, trembling and quivering at her command. Beatrice narrowed her gaze on Lorenzo and Livia, who stood next to each other. The vampires of the hall seemed to drift like lost as sheep in the confusion.

Her rage driving her, she stepped toward her enemies, only to be tackled from the side. When she realized it was Carwyn, the scream died in her throat, but she still struggled.

“Stop,” he whispered fiercely. “Contain yourself for now.”

“Can’t.”

“You must.”

In the safety of his arms, the roaring began to clear and sound filtered back to her. The confused murmur of the crowd. Emil Conti’s voice arguing with Livia. Lorenzo’s arrogant laugh.

The laugh caused her rage to bubble up again, and Carwyn’s grip on her grew even tighter as he pushed her to a small alcove.

“Lord in Heaven, you are strong, B.”

“Let me go.” Her voice sounded foreign to her ears. Quiet. Feral.

“That’s really not the best move right now. If you were in your right mind, you’d know that.”

“Let me go.”

“We have to find out more. She won’t harm him. Look around the room. Everyone’s in shock. She’s going to feel out the crowd before she makes a move. I have a feeling she’s not pleased. I somehow doubt Lorenzo was supposed to show up tonight. She’s not happy with him.”

His arms embraced her, but they were not Giovanni’s arms. She began to shake again.

“My dad... Ioan. They took Gio. They took him.”

“Christ, we’ve got to get you out of here. Now. You’re going to collapse or explode. Possibly both.”

She felt wind at her feet, and a sharp longing for Tenzin rose in her. Tenzin. She needed Tenzin now. Where was Tenzin?

“Come with me, priest. Bring the woman.”