The Raven (The Florentine 1)

“No, I don’t. His protection was unnecessary. I was protecting you, through the relic.”

“Why?”

“Why, indeed?” he muttered to himself.

“There has to be a reason.” She turned toward the window, which was shuttered. “I don’t have any money. I don’t have anything of value. What do you want?”

Several answers sprang to the Prince’s mind. But he was not about to entertain them. Or confess them.

He moved toward the bed and adopted a lighter tone.

“Perhaps I’m captivated by those green eyes of yours.”

Raven blinked in the darkness. “Now I know you’re lying. Why don’t you tell me who you are and what you really want?”

The Prince’s gaze focused on her so sharply, she almost felt it.

“I want you to leave the city.”

“You seem to know a lot about what goes on in Florence. Something happened to me last week. I lost my memory and—things changed.”

“I know that.” His voice was low.

“Tell me what happened.” She put the pillow aside and moved to the edge of the bed. “Please.”

He ground his teeth together. “No.”

“I have a right to know. You have to tell me.” Her expression twisted his insides.

“Promise me you’ll leave the city and I’ll tell you everything you wish to know.”

She sat back on her knees. “If I have the relic and it seems to work, why would I need to leave?”

“Are you mad?” he growled.

“Is the man who attacked the policeman the one who killed the others?”

The Prince froze. “What others?”

“La Nazione reported that several bodies were found downriver.”

His eyes narrowed. “When?”

“It was reported yesterday, but I haven’t had a chance to read the article.”

He swept away from her to the far side of the room, his mind spinning. He was unaware of the bodies and his anger at being surprised was almost boundless.

She heard him move and shifted to the side of the bed.

“Why won’t you go to the police? Interpol is here, investigating the Uffizi robbery. Why not turn these others over to the police?”

“Because I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t presume to give advice about things you don’t understand!”

Undeterred by his temper, Raven continued.

“You won’t turn them in, but you’d go against the others to protect me? Why should I believe you?”

“You don’t have to believe me.” His voice lowered into a growl. “Just leave the city.”

“You gave me the relic to help me. You warned me about the others. Tonight, you heard about the feral and came to see if I was all right. Obviously you don’t want me to get hurt. If you’re powerful enough to know what’s going on in the city, you must be powerful enough to help me.

“Please don’t make me leave,” she whispered. “This is the only place I’ve ever been happy.”

For a moment he was silent. He closed his eyes and began rubbing his forehead.

At length, he spoke.

“A long time ago, I came here in search of happiness.”

“Did you find it?”

“No.”

“I did.” Raven’s tone bespoke her truthfulness. “I left the U.S. to start a new life. If you send me back, I’ll have nothing.”

The Prince watched her in the darkness—her uplifted face with the creamy skin and perfect features, her long black hair. She was beautiful, she was intelligent, and she was brave. Something akin to admiration began to grow and warm in his chest.

He shook his head. He hadn’t come to her home in order to admire her. Any connection to her could only lead to darkness.

He changed the subject abruptly. “Do you know the story of Cupid and Psyche?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” There was an edge to her voice.

“Learn from Psyche’s mistake and do what I tell you.”

“So you’re Cupid?”

He stepped closer and dropped his voice to just above a whisper. “I am the monster, hiding in the darkness.”

“I doubt that a monster would hand out religious artifacts to damsels in distress.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly ‘handing them out.’ I gave you money. Use it to go back to America.”

“It’s in a shoe box in my closet. I don’t want it.”

“You’ll need it.”

She lifted her hands. “All of this must have a perfectly reasonable explanation. The man who killed the other man was disturbed. It isn’t kind to refer to him as feral. And you and the others are part of a crime ring. Obviously.” There was more than a note of hope in her voice.

“Your denial is amusing, but it won’t change reality.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“I’m grateful for your help. I don’t know why the man was upset by the cross I was wearing, but I’m glad he was. He could have killed me. But you’re mistaken about the danger. I promise, I’m no one special. I work at the gallery, I go out with my friends, I draw and I paint. I don’t know state secrets and I don’t have access to the security of the gallery. I’m just a boring, average postdoctoral research associate. That’s all.”

“I disagree. But I’ve been here too long already. If tonight’s events won’t convince you to leave, there’s little else I can do. I’ve warned you twice. What happens next is your responsibility.” His voice was cold.

“I won’t leave the city.”

His expression grew fierce.

“Even if it costs you your life?”

Raven faced him stubbornly. “It won’t come to that.”

“Very well.”

The Prince cursed, before lifting both hands, holding them out in front of him, palms up.

“Innocens ego sum a sanguine.”

He dropped his hands and walked to the door. “When you come to beg for my help, I will remind you of this moment. I’ll demand something of you. And you’ll give it to me.”

“I won’t come to you and I certainly won’t beg.” She sounded contemptuous.

He returned to stand next to the bed.

“Yes, you will.”

He stroked the curve of her cheek with the back of his hand. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

The Prince indulged himself in the feel of her skin and the beauty of her eyes.

When the lights came back on, Raven was alone.

Chapter Seventeen

Beneath the city of Florence lay a labyrinth of tunnels, secret passages, and catacombs. The tunnels were used by the citizens of the underworld, especially in daylight when they could not travel aboveground.

The focal point of the tunnels was the great hall below the Palazzo Riccardi, which was used for Consilium meetings and other formal events of state. Its stone walls were hung with tapestries and panels illustrating the history of the city. Several suits of armor along with various swords and weapons were also displayed.

The room was dark. The underworld wasn’t wired with electricity and so torches burned in wall sconces, while elaborate iron candelabras illuminated the cavernous space. Shadows flickered across the faces of the beings who’d assembled.

Interestingly enough, the tunnels were noticeably absent of rats.

“This meeting of the Consilium will come to order.” Lorenzo thumped a tall staff, which boasted a carved gold lily on its top.

At his announcement, the other five Consilium members came forward and sat in tall wooden chairs that were upholstered with red velvet. The seats were arranged in sets of three, facing the front on either side of a central aisle that featured a long, red velvet runner.

Moments later, the Prince entered the hall through its large double doors, his black velvet robe billowing behind him. He strode up the aisle to a large gold throne that stood on a raised platform.

&nb

sp; He did not look pleased.

While the Consilium members wore formal clothes in the style of the Renaissance, capped with red velvet cloaks, the Prince was dressed in modern clothing, with the exception of his robe. As always, he wore black.

The council members stood as soon as he entered and, when he’d taken his place, they bowed. He acknowledged them impatiently, waving at them to be seated before turning to his lieutenant.

“Clear the gallery. Offer my apologies to the citizens and see that they are fed.”

Lorenzo bowed again, trying to hide his displeasure. He quickly directed the sentries to escort the citizens from the hall. Then he whispered instructions to Gregor, the Prince’s assistant, with respect to the feeding.

It was customary to have humans held in reserve during council meetings, in case someone grew hungry.

(It appeared the Consilium members would have to forgo their catering on this occasion.)

The Prince regarded the council members with a look of cold detachment, his piercing gray eyes moving from face to face.