Chapter Fifteen

Penglai Mountain, China

November 2010

“Fight now,” she panted as her fingers clutched his neck. Their mouths crashed together as they stumbled through the room. She felt his fangs run along her neck.

“Later.”

“Now!”

He reared back, glaring at her before he threw her on the bed. Giovanni paced, silent and furious around the room. Finally, he spoke in a tightly controlled voice.

“How could you do it?”

“You know how!”

“No, I don’t.” He bent down and grabbed her chin, forcing her face to his. “Why don’t you explain it, Beatrice? Explain why my wife would conspire with my best friend to turn herself without even telling me or letting me be involved!”

She rose onto her knees. “You know why. And I told you over and over again, you just didn’t listen. You weren’t the vulnerable one. You weren’t the weak one. I was done with it. I was ready.”

“You were not! You have no idea what you’re giving up.”

“I do, too. Don’t be so arrogant. Do you think I don’t know my own mind?”

He paced, still glancing over his shoulder toward her. She could see him struggling to extinguish the swirling flames that covered his torso.

“I can be your equal now,” she continued, peeling the wet clothes from her body. “I’m not weak anymore. Look at me. My mind is my own. My body is my own. He can’t make me do anything anymore.”

Giovanni pounced on her, rolling in the sheets as he trapped her under his body. She reached out with her amnis, throwing a layer of cool air over his back as they were enveloped in a cloud of steam.

“Your body is mine,” he growled through clenched teeth, “as mine is yours. You are my wife. My mate. We are one. And you shut me out.” His angry eyes suddenly furrowed in pain. “Did it hurt? Were you frightened? Who held your hand as the life drained out of you?  Whose eyes did you see before your heart stopped?”

She had no answer.

“That should have been me, Beatrice. Even if I could not turn you, it was my right to be there to care for you.”

Bloody tears filled her eyes, and she lifted a hand, the cool water meeting the burning skin of his cheek. Tendrils of steam rose from the contact.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I shut you out.” She reared up and captured his lips with her own, rolling them over with inhuman strength so she was straddling his hips. “But I’m not sorry I did it. I’m not sorry that I’m a vampire. And your anger is worth being with you forever.”

He shook his head, fury still swirling in his eyes.

“And even if it takes years for you to forgive me, I’m not going anywhere. I have eternity now.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “But, please don’t make me wait that long.”

Giovanni lay motionless as she splayed her hands across the thick muscle of his chest. Both watched in fascination as the vapor rose where they touched. Their room was like a sauna, and thick clouds hung around them, making the lamps glow in the dark room. She could feel his heart pound beneath her hands, and she closed her eyes, arching her back in pleasure when his burning fingertips traced the bite scars that marked her breast, slowly swirling over her preternaturally sensitive skin.

Her fangs grew longer in her mouth, cutting her lip as they descended. She felt him rear up, tasting the trickle of blood that fell from her lips and down her throat. Giovanni licked up from her collarbone, locking his mouth with hers before his tongue invaded. She gasped when he stroked along the length of her fangs.

“Yes,” Beatrice hissed as the hint of his rich blood filled her mouth. She pulled him back, fusing their lips as she traced along his own sharp teeth. The taste of their mingled blood seeped down her throat.

Smokey.

Sweet.

Hot.

Cool.

His blood reminded her of the rich taste of the whiskey they had shared before their first kiss, years before when he was hiding and she was human. The memory gave her pause, and she drew back, licking the last of their blood from his lips before she looked at him.

Giovanni’s eyes were closed, and he seemed to sway in her arms. She peeled the scraps of his shirt away and pressed their skin together. His chest burned against hers. Their hearts pounded together, the usually slow movement of their veins excited by blood and anger. His eyes were still closed as she began to rock against him, trailing her fangs across his chest until he shuddered.

“Beatrice…” His voice was rough, his hands smoothed down her shoulders, kneading the small of her back as she pressed their hips together and he loosed a low moan. Her fingers threaded through his hair and she brought her mouth to his in a whisper of a kiss, flooding her lips with amnis. Their energy twined, and Giovanni took a deep breath, arching his back and opening his eyes, which finally met hers with tenderness.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“You are my balance in this life,” he said before he pierced his tongue and kissed her again. She pulled back and drew blood in her own mouth.

“In every life,” she finished.

Their lips met, and they drank the other in, their amnis twisting and melding so that Beatrice couldn’t feel where she ended and he began. Giovanni picked her up and pulled at the thin leggings she wore to practice. She pulled at the buckle on his belt, struggling as he held her.

“Beatrice…” He finally stood up to rid himself of the last of his clothing as he eyed her in the center of the bed. The urgency returned, along with her hunger, and she eyed the thick vein in his throat.