The Shadow (The Florentine 2)

Chapter Twenty

On Thursday evening after work, as Raven climbed the steps to her apartment, she was surprised to see Bruno on the landing.

She hadn’t seen him since she’d visited him in the hospital after he’d been attacked by the large, bearlike vampyre William called Max. Raven shivered at the recollection. It had been her fault he’d been hurt, since she’d foolishly gone out without wearing the relic William had provided for her protection. Bruno had almost died and she’d had to beg William to help him.

Looking at him, impeccably dressed as he was in a suit and tie and with a tall, thin blonde on his arm, he looked healthy.

Raven limped to the top of the stairs, pausing in front of her door to smile in Bruno’s direction.

The woman on his arm was the sole focus of his attention. They stood in front of his grandmother’s apartment and embraced, their mouths fusing in a passionate kiss. Raven blushed and turned away, fumbling for her keys.

“Hello.” Bruno greeted her.

The sound of her key and the scraping of the lock must have distracted him. Raven turned and smiled. “Hello, Bruno.”

“This is Delfina.” He gestured to the woman at his side, then looked back at Raven and blinked. It took a few seconds for her to realize he didn’t remember her name.

She stifled a wince. “I’m Raven, Delfina. It’s nice to meet you.”

Delfina smiled and returned her greeting.

“How is your grandmother?” Raven turned to Bruno once again.

“The chemotherapy is helping but she isn’t eating. We just brought a dinner that my mother made, and she won’t touch it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Raven paused, looking at her door. “Would she like some company? I haven’t eaten yet and I could bring my dinner over and sit with her.”

“That would be generous, thank you. We have dinner reservations so we can’t stay.”

Delfina murmured something that Raven couldn’t hear and Bruno laughed. He placed his hand on the doorknob to his grandmother’s apartment. “But, please, my mother made enough for both of you. Don’t bother bringing over anything.”

“Are you sure?” Raven asked, watching his reaction carefully.

“Please.” He extricated himself from Delfina and opened the door to the apartment, disappearing inside.

Raven could hear the dull murmur of voices. In a moment, Bruno returned.

“She’s eager to see you.” He stood to the side and gestured for Raven to enter. She quickly locked her apartment and made her away across the landing, nodding at Delfina as she passed.

“Have a good night.” She gave Bruno a small, awkward wave.

“Thank you.” He took Delfina’s hand and they disappeared down the staircase.

Raven sighed. How interesting it was that a creature such as William, who was far more intelligent and handsome than Bruno, could find her beautiful, while a human like Bruno couldn’t even remember her name.

William was the only one who’d ever looked at her with longing.

She closed the door.

Chapter Twenty-one

Raven turned her head to find William staring at her unblinkingly, like a gray-eyed cat.

They were standing at the Piazzale Michelangelo, looking down at the radiant skyline of the city the following evening. They’d dined together, but on different food, at William’s villa before walking hand in hand to the place that offered one of the best vistas of Florence.

Raven had put her cane aside and was leaning against a low stone wall that framed the piazzale. She’d been admiring the various landmarks and the way they were illuminated. The Ponte Vecchio and the Arno reflected the lights from the buildings that lined its banks.

It was so beautiful it made her heart hurt. She hoped she would always be able to live there and enjoy its beauty. She glanced at William and found his gaze intent on her.

“What are you looking at?”

“You.”

She turned back to the view. “There are more beautiful things you could be looking at.”

He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip. “I wish I had your talent for drawing. I’d sketch you like this, in profile, looking down over the city.”

“I noticed you framed the sketch I did of you.”

“I framed it not for the subject matter, but for the artist.”

“You hung it next to your Botticelli.” Her tone was slightly accusing.

“Great artists are best displayed in the company of other great artists.”

She shook her head, but her smile remained in place.

He moved nearer. “Would you ever consider drawing a self-portrait, for me?”

Raven lifted her eyebrows. “Really?”

“I should like to have it.”

“Then, yes, I suppose.” She leaned against the railing, taking her weight off her disabled leg.

“I thought you were beautiful, even on the night I found you.” William lowered his voice. “It was your scent that drew me to you—it bespoke a beautiful soul. But I was captivated by your eyes.”

Raven’s smile blossomed and she returned to look at the Arno.

Beyond the Ponte Vecchio, near the Ponte Santa Trinita, was the place where William had rescued her. Now when she drove over the bridge from Santo Spirito and into that area, she experienced anxiety and a feeling of dread. She wondered if she was guilty of suppressing memories of the night she was attacked, or if the memory loss had been the result of a head injury and vampyre blood, as William suggested.

She sighed and thought of Cara.

“Why the deep sigh?” William moved nearer, but didn’t touch her.

“I was thinking about my sister.”

“I’ve thought about mine over the years.”

“What happened to them?”

“My sisters, as well as my brothers, married and had children. I didn’t trace their descendants, but I’m sure some of them live in England still. Some of them probably went to America or Canada.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Not really. I’d already severed ties with my family before I became a vampyre. After the change, I had little interest in them.” He pressed his forearms against the railing. “Vampyres are egoists—only concerned with themselves and whatever pleases them. That doesn’t leave much room for familial attachment.”

Normally, Raven would have argued with him, pointing out that the general principles that applied to vampyres did not apply to him. But at that moment, she simply didn’t have it in her to argue, so she was silent.

“What was your father like?”

“He was tall—taller than you—and big. He worked construction. He had dark hair and green eyes.” Raven pointed to her face. “I look like him. He was funny. He liked to laugh. He liked to take me and my sister to the park and run around with us.”

“If I had the power of resurrection, I’d give him back to you.”

Tears filled Raven’s eyes. She nodded, too overcome to speak.

“What were you thinking about your sister?”

Raven flexed her hands against the stone, finding the cool roughness against her skin a pleasant distraction. “I love her. She’s my best friend.” Raven lowered her head. “She hates me.”

“If she hates you, she’s clearly lacking in perception.”

“William,” Raven reproved him. “Since we couldn’t rely on our mother, I became Cara’s mother in a lot of ways. Having her break off contact with me is devastating.”

William placed his hand over hers. “She still won’t speak to you?”

“I’ve tried calling, I’ve tried e-mails. She won’t answer.”

“I’m sorry. I . . .” William shook his head.

Raven remarked his worried expression. “What is it?”

He redirected his gaze to the Palazzo Vecchio. “I see your suffering and I don’t know how to end it. I’d like to give you your father back. I’d like to give you your mother and your sister. But I c

an’t. It makes me . . .” He paused abruptly. “I don’t like feeling powerless.”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me? I haven’t done anything.”

“You’re here.”

Ever so softly, the edge of his finger feathered over the hinge of her jaw.

A long look passed between them.

“I wish I’d found you seven hundred years ago.”

She entwined their fingers together. “We wouldn’t have one another now if that had happened.”

Raven had the impression he wanted to say something but was choosing his words carefully.