“Not for her. To keep the world safe from the—”

“Yes, the elixir.” Arosh curled his lip. “I had hoped to never hear about that dreaded concoction again. What a mess.”

Carwyn, ever fearless, piped up. “What were you thinking?”

Giovanni was tempted to muzzle the priest, but Arosh only laughed. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, holy man.”

“Ah well.” Carwyn sat up straighter and looked at the ancient fire vampire with suddenly keen eyes. “I’d very much like to kill the bastard that murdered my son. Or watch someone kill him, I’m not picky. So, if we could get on with it, please?”

“Yes, holy man, let us ‘get on with it’ as you say.” Arosh cocked his head and looked at Giovanni. “I have read Ziri’s letter. I know what my friend asks of me, but what about you, Giovanni, son of Andreas?”

The ancient fire vampire wanted something. And though Ziri had already asked for the favor, he wanted Giovanni to ask it as well. That way, a favor would be owed. He had no choice.

“Arosh, I would ask a favor of you.”

The dark eyes of the old king lit up. “And I may grant it. We shall see.”

Arosh led them down into the mountain and through a twisted maze of passageways that Giovanni couldn’t help but think Beatrice would enjoy.

“Kato always liked mazes,” Arosh called as he led them forward. “And this one keeps the more curious girls away. I only let a few attend to him, though he’s not dangerous to human women.”

To human women? Giovanni couldn’t help but notice that he and Carwyn didn’t fall under that particular category.

They finally exited the maze and were led toward a chamber that reminded Giovanni of an old tomb. The large, stone doors were intricately carved and painted, and a channel of water fell from a hidden stream.

“The cisterns feed the waterfall and the fountains. He can’t reside near the sea, but I can keep enough water here to keep him content.”

What the hell were they walking into? Arosh pushed the doors open and the three vampires stepped into a large open chamber. The tiled ceiling was held up by richly painted columns and fountains flowed through the room. The walls were bare stone. Cold, but painted with rich murals depicting beautiful scenes of the ocean and sea life. They walked along a bridge that led them toward the sound of soft voices. As they crossed over a long pool, Giovanni spied his father’s sire and gasped.

Andros had been right. Ancient peoples had seen this immortal and the legends of Poseidon were born. Kato sat submerged to his chest in a large, Roman-style bath. He stared straight ahead and quiet women circled around him, pouring water over his thickly muscled chest, curling hair, and long beard. His eyes were a deep, sea blue. His hair was the color of bronze. The immortal didn’t appear sickly or ill. Kato, the ancient water vampire, looked like a god.

Giovanni heard Arosh shift behind him a moment before Kato moved. It was infinitesimal, a twitch. But suddenly, he was looking into the eyes of his grand-sire and he realized that something was very, very wrong.

The brilliant blue eyes held nothing; they were vacant and wild.

Kato’s mouth opened. Long, thick fangs speared behind his lips and in a blink, he had flown out of the water and toward the intruders. Arosh stepped back again, taking Carwyn’s arm and pulling him behind his body. A snarl ripped from Kato’s throat, and Giovanni could scarcely draw a breath before he was overtaken. Kato grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air.

“Gio!”

“Stay back, holy man.”

At Kato’s touch, the water was drawn from Giovanni’s body. He could feel it wicking away as the water vampire drew it out of him. No shield or energy could stop it as Giovanni’s skin dried. His lips cracked. It was as if he was a sponge being wrung out by the hands of the old king.

And he was choking. Kato held him up and Giovanni knew that with one squeeze, the hands of this vampire could end him. He had no fire in this watery tomb. The air was too thick with moisture. His dry hands reached up to the iron grip of his grand-sire, but did nothing. It was like pawing at solid rock.

However, just as quickly as Kato had lifted him, the water vampire froze, took a deep breath, and lowered Giovanni to the ground. A soft look stole over the immortal’s face, and he pulled Giovanni closer. The iron hand tilted his chin up, and Kato leaned over, placed his face at Giovanni’s throat, and inhaled. Then he smiled and lowered his chin. He placed soft hands on his grandchild’s shoulders and kissed his forehead.

Giovanni remained motionless. He had no idea what had just happened. Arosh, as if reading his mind, strode over and placed a hand on his ancient rival’s shoulder. Kato flinched under his touch, but turned a beatific smile on Arosh, as well.

“You have enough. Excellent. Otherwise you would be dead. Kato smells his blood. He reacts to most strangers like this, which is why your friend should not approach.” Arosh was almost whispering, as he placed a hand on Kato’s forehead and stroked his friend’s hair back with the gentlest of touches. “But you are of his direct line, and he smells his blood in you. This is why you are not in danger. I carry his blood as well, though it is not as strong.”

“What has happened to him? What is this?”

“This, son of Andreas, is the result of curing bloodlust. Your grand-sire’s amnis is shattered. Barely functioning. His body is as vital as it ever was, but the brilliant mind that was nurtured by the fifth element is broken. He is a creature of instinct now.”