A glass of water she’d been watching on the coffee table shattered. Water scattered over the table, but the pieces of glass were swept up in a gust and immediately tossed into the fire. She looked up to see Ziri smirking at her with his terrifying black gaze.

“Who are you?” she asked.

His dark head bowed, and he swept back the striped robes he wore. “I am Ziri.”

“I know that. Who are you?”

Ziri said, “You are very much like your father, do you know?”

She felt Tenzin’s tension from across the room. Beatrice’s eyes darted to her father’s mate, who was watching her fellow wind vampire with suspicion. Tenzin remained silent and let Beatrice question him.

“I am. How did you know my father?”

The ancient vampire looked thoughtful for a moment, tilting his head while Beatrice examined him. He was definitely the ancient immortal she’d seen at Livia’s garden party. His skin was pockmarked and looked dusky from the sun. His features were a curious blend of Middle Eastern and African. Beatrice was reminded of a library exhibit she had helped curate about the Berber people of Morocco. But Ziri looked old, far older than the Berber people. He was ancient and curiously regal. Not a Berber, but then, North Africa had not always had the same names. She remembered Geber’s journals.

“Are you the Numidian?”

Ziri smiled again. The swirling amnis that surrounded him reached out to her hand, but she did not flinch when she felt the press of his ghostly greeting.

“I am Ziri. I am the Numidian of Jabir’s journals, and I was your father’s guardian... for as long as I was able.”

A few hours later, Matt stumbled into the library and looked around in confusion.

“Who’s the vampire sleeping in the second floor guest room? Hi, Tenzin. Who are you?” He looked at Ziri, then around the room with sharper eyes. “And where the hell is Gio?”

Beatrice sighed. “Sit down, Matt. I’ll explain.”

Tenzin spoke, “The vampire isn’t awake, is he?”

“No.”

“Good, he needs to rest.”

Carwyn and Beatrice both looked at her in confusion.

“What’s that?” the priest said.

Beatrice asked, “What are you talking about?”

Even though most vampires rested during the day, they didn’t ‘need’ to. Beatrice had never grown tired in a bodily sense, even though she rarely slept. She would weary, exhausted by her own thoughts, but that was why she meditated. Tenzin, she knew, was the same way.

“I’ll let him explain, but Lucien... He is…” Tenzin stammered, looking disturbed. “It’s difficult to say exactly. He is not... well.”

“Lucien Thrax?” Carwyn asked. He looked confused. Tenzin looked strangely nervous. Beatrice looked to Ziri. The old wind vampire looked like... nothing. She had never seen a face so carefully blank.

“Who’s Lucien?” Beatrice asked.

“Lucien Thrax—an old friend of mine. A very old friend. And he was a friend of—”

“Ioan’s.” Carwyn interrupted. “Lucien and Ioan were close correspondents. Lucien is a doctor, B. The son of the greatest healer the immortal world has ever known.”

“She’s also the oldest,” Tenzin said.

Carwyn nodded. “Lucien and Ioan were friends for many years. He’s one of the contacts that I was going to look for while I was here. He’s often in Eastern Europe.”

“He was in Bulgaria when I found him. I’d heard rumors.” Tenzin frowned. “He hadn’t heard about Ioan.”

Matt spoke up. “Bulgaria?”

Tenzin nodded.

Beatrice said, “Why do you ask, Matt?”

“Dez was doing research into Livia’s businesses. One of her companies owns a very small plant in Bulgaria. From what she could find out, it was pretty busy until about three years ago; then it was shut down. But not exactly. It was kept in operation, but with a skeleton staff and no product being shipped out, then a little over a year ago, they put out a hiring notice again. Nothing’s been shipped out yet, but the plant is in operation.”

Tenzin nodded. “That fits the timeline I’ve been thinking of. If Livia is using this plant to produce the elixir, that means they started just few months after Stephen was killed and Lorenzo took the manuscript.”

Beatrice asked Matt, “What was the cosmetics company making? Before it was shut down, what did they produce?”

Matt scowled. “High-end cosmetics for the European market. Using traditional, botanical ingredients.”

“That’s it.” Beatrice sighed. “It has to be.”

“B, I need to talk to Gio, there was something else—”

“Gio’s not here, Matt,” Beatrice said quietly.

She had never seen the man look more shocked. “What? It’s past dawn. He stayed at Livia’s? What the—”

“He stayed at Livia’s, but it wasn’t his choice,” Carwyn said. “She accused him of murdering Andros in front of the Roman vampires. She’s taken him prisoner.”

Matt’s mouth gaped. He looked at Beatrice. “B, is it—”

“Shut up!” Tenzin walked over and stood in front of Matt. The small woman looked up into the human’s shocked face. “Whatever you were about to ask, don’t.”

“But—”

“Does it matter to you? If Giovanni killed his sire? If he didn’t? Does it matter to you? Does it change your opinion of him or your loyalty to him?”