“I rested a few hours. You looked like you were dreaming. What was it about?”

He shrugged and walked to the small kitchen area, heating a bag of blood and leaning over to sniff the coffee pot she’d added in the corner of their room.

“Was it about your father again?”

He was silent for a few minutes, but she didn’t try to fill the space. Giovanni finally turned with a frown on his face. “I don’t know why I’m having so many dreams about him.”

She cocked her head. “Because of me? Because I lost my dad? Because we’ve been talking about that?”

“Perhaps.”

She had finally taken Tenzin’s advice and confided in Giovanni about the gaping wound that Stephen’s loss had left. As predicted, he understood completely. Just sharing the hurt had done more to lessen the grief than any of her own efforts.

“Gio... there’s no chance that Andros could be alive, is there? I mean, you didn’t actually see him die. He was just ash when you woke up. Lorenzo was the one who saw—”

“Beatrice, how did you feel when your father was killed?”

Tears sprang immediately to her eyes. “Like... something was ripped from my chest. Empty. Physical pain would have been a relief.”

He only looked at her and nodded. “I felt the same. Despite how much I hated Andros, I loved him, too. And the pain of my father’s death woke me from my day rest, even though it was practically impossible to wake me when I was that young. I know he is dead.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“It’s a valid question. Don’t apologize.”

He turned and picked up the bag of blood he had heated in warm water, drinking it quickly before he walked across the room. He picked her up and brought her back to the bed. Though she didn’t need to sleep, his presence—the silent meditation of his touch—allowed Beatrice to rest her mind.

The sun still peeked through the edges of the windows, so they lay silently, curled together as her amnis wrapped around its mate. Though he didn’t move, she could feel Giovanni’s invisible energy stroking along her back and neck, fluttering over her skin and soothing her.

“What are you doing tonight?” she asked in a drowsy whisper.

“I’m introducing one of Gustavo’s sons to Ernesto. Diego has some business in Los Angeles and he asked for an introduction.”

“Oh, you get to play politics. Lucky you.”

He pinched her side when she snickered. “Your grandfather asked for you to come, as well, but I made an excuse for you. I’m not going to next time.”

She leaned over and kissed him. “Thank you. You’re the best husband in the whole room.” Beatrice squealed when he dug his fingers into her sides. Immortality had not lessened how ticklish she was. If anything, it had made it worse.

“Why? Why did I sign up for this abuse for eternity? What have I done to deserve this woman?” He chuckled as he continued to tickle her. Soon, she was gasping under him.

“Stop!” she panted. “Stop. I’ll...”

An evil grin spread across his face. “You’ll what?”

She brought an arm around and trailed her fingers down his back, teasing his spine as he shivered. Giovanni may not have been ticklish, but she knew exactly how to torment him.

“I’ll... save some hot water for you!”

Beatrice darted out from under him and into the luxurious bathroom, locking the door behind her. She laughed and started the shower, only to hear the door splinter behind her. Giovanni tossed the broken wood to the side and strode into the room.

“We didn’t need that door.”

She drove the grey Mustang through the busy streets, pulling up to the old warehouse where Tenzin had set up a practice studio. The ancient wind vampire was already there, and Beatrice could hear her pounding on one of training dummies.

“You’re coming later, right?” Ben grabbed his gym bag and opened the door.

“Yeah, I’m just meeting Dez for dinner, and then I’ll come back and practice with you guys for a while.”

“No rush. I think she’s meaner to me when you’re there.”

Beatrice laughed and reached across to ruffle his hair as he tried to squirm away.

At fifteen, Ben Vecchio had all the marks of a boy on the verge of manhood. He had shot up the year they had been in Chile and was far taller than she was. Beatrice guessed he would rival Giovanni’s height when he was full-grown. His chest was starting to fill out and lose its scrawny appearance, helped along by the intense physical training that Beatrice and Giovanni insisted on for his safety. His curling hair, deep brown eyes, and quick smile already attracted enough female attention to keep a grown man happy, much less a teenage boy.

Ben was well on the way to breaking a few hearts, and Beatrice absolutely adored him.

“Tell Dez I said ‘Hi’ and let her know I’m here when she gets tired of the old fart.”

“She told the old fart she’d marry him, so I have a feeling you’re out of luck.”

He leaned down and winked. “Engaged is not married, B. There’s hope until there’s a ring on her finger.”

She shook her head. “You’re shameless.”

“Yep. But I’m cute, too. See ya!” He slapped the top of the car and walked into the warehouse, whistling.

“Shameless,” she said as she pulled away.