She continued to speak, unguarded in her exhaustion. “What if it takes a long time? What if I’m old and wrinkled before I love you again?”

A soft smile crossed his face. “I sincerely hope it doesn’t take that long…” His hand lifted to stroke her hair and he could feel her begin to drift again. “But your beauty is not the reason I love you, Beatrice, even though it takes my breath away at times,” he whispered as he watched the firelight dance across her skin.

“You don’t breathe. Not that hard to take your breath away,” she said, slowly blinking longer and longer as she stared at the fire.

“Harder than you might think. Sleep, tesoro.”

And she did.

Early the next morning, he could hear Ben’s shrieks as the boy woke for his first real Christmas. He smiled in satisfaction before the day pulled him under.

When he woke and left the small room he slept in, he could still hear Ben’s incessant chatter. He dressed in a pair of grey slacks and a red shirt he remembered Beatrice complimenting before he made his way downstairs.

The changes to the Houston house were subtle but perfectly reflected Isadora’s tastes. She and Caspar had lived at the house since Beatrice had moved to Los Angeles, and both of them seemed exceedingly happy. Though it was late in life, Caspar finally seemed to have found the right woman for him.

“Merry Christmas,” he said to Beatrice’s grandmother when he saw her on the second floor landing. She was arranging a vase of flowers, and she turned to smile at him.

“Merry Christmas, Gio! We’ve missed you today. Especially Ben; he’s so excited.” She stood on her tiptoes, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Where is everyone?” he asked politely, though he could already hear the television in the living room. Isadora had never quite accustomed herself to his preternatural senses the way Beatrice had.

“Oh, they’re doing their awful Christmas horror movie marathon again. Only this time, Ben is an enthusiastic participant. It’s quieter than normal without Carwyn this year.”

He smiled at the reminder that their lives had moved forward without him. “He’s dealing with some complications at home, I believe. He apologized for not making it for the holidays.”

“I know he has a large family. Is everything all right?”

That was an excellent question, he thought. The priest had been uncharacteristically close-mouthed for the past couple of months, and Giovanni was beginning to worry.

“I’ll ask him tonight. We’ve scheduled a call later.”

He left Isadora humming as he walked downstairs and rushed into the living room at vampire speed, scooping Beatrice up and setting her on his lap before she could take a breath.

“Oh!” she gasped before she laughed. “I’ll never get used to that.”

Her mood was lighter; he could tell by the ease around her eyes and the quick tilt of her smile. “Merry Christmas, Beatrice.”

“Gio,” Ben bounced up and down next to him. “Cas and Isadora got me an iPod, and B got me an electric scooter, and there’s a whole bunch more presents under the tree, too. And a lot of them are for you!”

Ben may have been a very streetwise twelve, but this morning, Giovanni thought he looked every bit the child he should have been for so many years. Then his words registered, and he turned to Beatrice, tugging her hair as she sat on his lap.

“An electric scooter?”

She grinned and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “He’ll be fine, old man. I’ll teach him to ride it. Just be glad it’s not a dirt bike.”

“A dirt bike?” Ben shouted in excitement. “I want a dirt bike!”

“If I could get headaches, I would have one right now. Thank you. I’ll never hear the end of this.”

“So stuffy,” she muttered, but she leaned back into his chest and let him wrap his arms around her waist. They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the old movie on the screen.

“Is this…”

“Horror of Dracula, 1958. I thought it was appropriate. Ben hadn’t seen it.”

“You have a sick sense of humor.”

“But the vampires in this one have British accents. It’s practically highbrow.” She stared raptly at the screen and only wiggled in his lap when he pinched her waist. He bit back a groan before he leaned slightly closer to her neck, realizing he needed to feed if he was going to be this close to her. His fang pierced his lip, and he tried to shift in his seat.

“Tesoro,” he said quietly. “I need to go.”

“Why?” she asked absently.

He cleared his throat and waited for her to look at him. When she did, he let his fangs peek out from behind his lips and felt her pulse pick up.

“I need to feed.” He leaned close. “Unless you’re offering, in which case I’d be happy to go upstairs,” he said with a soft growl.

She hesitated. “Do you have bagged blood here?”

He was tempted to lie but didn’t. Instead, he nodded and tried to discern whether it was wishful thinking that he saw a hint of disappointment in her eyes. She moved off his lap, and he quickly retreated from her presence to feed himself from the bagged blood in the refrigerator.

An hour later, and despite his meal, he was still eyeing her neck as they opened presents around the Christmas tree.

“Sweet! Another video game!”

True to Ben’s fantasies, the adults in the room had showered the boy with gifts. Beatrice gave him his first computer, and she assured Giovanni she would teach him to use it responsibly. Caspar supplied the boy with a wealth of comic books, video games, and movies; while Isadora gave him enough dress clothes to make Ben shudder.