The Roman (The Florentine 3)
“I knew it.” Cara came closer. “When you called me about David, I knew you were cracking up. You’ve been carrying that shit so long you finally broke.”
“If I was going to break, I would have done it a long time ago.” Raven looked up at her sister. “Have you seen what they can do? Have you noticed how strong they are?”
Cara plopped down on the sofa. “It’s a fricking Renaissance fair, complete with toy swords. Where’s Dan? Don’t tell me they tried to recruit him. He used to do community theater.”
“He’s in Florence. When you came to my apartment, a vampyre attacked us. We were brought here, and Dan was left behind.”
Cara turned to face her. “Is he hurt?”
Raven hesitated. “I don’t know. He was knocked unconscious.”
“Unconscious?” Cara’s face grew pale. “And you left him?”
“I had no choice. We were attacked and carried off. Someone called an ambulance before we left. That’s all I know.”
Cara bolted to the door. “We have to go. We have to get back to Dan.”
“We aren’t going anywhere until the princess releases us.”
In defiance, Cara opened the door. Four soldiers stared back at her, two on each side.
She closed the door and leaned up against it. “There are guards in the hall.”
Raven sighed. “Of course there are. Vampyres are extremely territorial, and we’re trespassing. We can’t leave until William persuades the princess to let us go.”
Cara approached her sister again, standing in front of the sofa. “Forget about the vampyre bullshit, how come I don’t remember being attacked?”
“You were thrown against a wall.” Raven’s voice wavered. “You had a head injury. You’ve been unconscious.”
Cara touched her head, running both hands over her scalp. “I don’t have a headache.”
“William healed you.”
“Who’s William? Did he attack Dan?”
“No, he rescued us. He was the one in black talking to the princess. He’s the Prince of Florence.”
Cara rolled her eyes. “Everyone around here is a prince or a princess. What are you? The Princess of Portsmouth?”
“Very funny.”
“Why would that guy help us?”
Raven looked at her sister defiantly. “We’re together.”
“You have a boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he’s a vampyre. He’s the only reason we’re still alive. We were attacked, and William saved us.”
Cara turned on her heel and marched into the bathroom. She examined herself in the mirror. “I look okay.”
“That’s because he gave you…” Raven cleared her throat. “Never mind.”
“Gave me what?” Cara emerged from the bathroom.
“They brought us food.” Raven gestured to the lavish table set up on the far side of the room. “Why don’t you have a shower and get cleaned up? Then we can have something to eat.”
“These people call themselves vampyres, and you’re sleeping with one of them.” Cara scrubbed at her face. “Is this some weird fetish thing?”
“Cara, come here.” Raven held out her hand.
Her sister took it reluctantly, allowing herself to be pulled to a seated position.
“You don’t have to believe everything I say, but you need to hear me. These people, all of them, are dangerous. They view us as food, and they have no problem killing.”
Cara grimaced. “Including William?”
“He’s different.”
“How different?”
Raven made eye contact with her sister. “He’s the one who captured David and threatened to kill him.”
“What?”
“I told him what happened to us when we were children. William was disgusted that David got away with it. He wanted him to pay.”
“Did he kill him?” Cara squeaked.
“No. He wanted to, but I wouldn’t let him. William turned him over to the police in California.”
Cara stared at her sister, her expression blank. “We need to get to Florence. Dan is hurt, and he needs our help.”
She strode into the adjacent bedroom, dismayed to discover it too was absent windows or any other visible egress.
“You aren’t listening,” Raven called. She waited for her sister to emerge from the bedroom. “When William comes back, we can ask him about Dan. But we aren’t going anywhere.”
Cara’s blue eyes narrowed. “Yeah, your new boyfriend is a real prince. He drinks blood, hangs around with re-enactors, and kidnaps your stepfather.”
Raven leaned forward. “If you don’t believe me, ask Father Kavanaugh. He knows exactly who and what these people are. That’s why he wanted me to come to Rome, to get me away from William.”
Cara lifted her arms in frustration. “Then for God’s sake, Raven, why didn’t you come?”
“Because Father is hiding his own secrets.”
“That’s obvious. He was acting weird when Dan and I went to see him, and he wasn’t going to let us leave. We had to sneak out of the Vatican in order to see you.”
“Exactly. He doesn’t want me near vampyres, and he doesn’t want you near them, either.”
Cara walked over to the table and retrieved an apple, taking a large bite. She gave her sister a hard look. “Tell me everything. And start at the beginning.”
Chapter Fourteen
SIMONETTA VESPUCCI’S BEAUTY was the stuff of legends.
The Prince of Florence was well aware of this. He’d known her in life, and he’d known Sandro Botticelli, the artist who immortalized her in such paintings as The Birth of Venus.
The beauty she’d worn in life had been compounded a hundred fold when she became a vampyre. Now she owned the face and form of a goddess.
During his tenure as prince, William had enjoyed her on more than one occasion. Simonetta was passionate but particular when it came to her lovers. The Prince was one of her favorites, which was why he followed her to her bedchamber on this occasion with more than a soupçon of concern.
The princess inhabited a stately villa in Perugia, which was so lavish it rivaled the Palace of Versailles. Her bedroom, in particular, boasted large floor-to-ceiling mirrors on every wall, a gilded ceiling, and heavy, ornate furniture upholstered in crimson velvet.
Although one might have expected Simonetta to spend most of her time gazing at herself, she rarely did. The mirrors were installed primarily for her lovers, so that they could admire themselves as they consorted and fornicated with a goddess for hours on end.
There had been a time when the Prince was untroubled by the decadent furnishings, when he’d enjoyed the mirrors that reflected the large and stately bed, and the female striding t
oward it.
Now the sight repelled him.
“Given your trouble with Machiavelli and the Curia, I’m surprised you left Florence.” Simonetta ushered the Prince to a large sitting area at the far end of the chamber, mere steps from her imposing bed.
“Machiavelli sent the detachment without my authority, and he neglected to send couriers first. I came to rectify the error and to apologize for the insult,” the Prince lied smoothly.
She smiled. “I can always count on you to respect propriety. Shall I arrange for a feeding? You must be hungry.”
“Your hospitality is appreciated, but a feeding is unnecessary. I am eager for the detachment to reach Rome before sunrise.”
“I’d offer transportation, but since the Curia is involved, I prefer to remain neutral.” She pulled a length of cord that fell from the ceiling. A knock sounded from behind one of the mirrors.
“Enter,” she commanded.
The mirror moved, revealing a hidden door. A servant stood in the opening, bowing low.
Simonetta addressed him with detachment. “Fetch a bottle of our finest vintage, and be quick about it.”
The servant bowed and withdrew, replacing the mirror.
Simonetta walked over to a low couch and sat on it, arranging herself to best effect. She cast a stunning figure with her long, gold hair and azure dress against the crimson velvet. And she knew it.
But the Prince’s thoughts were otherwise engaged. Indeed, all he could think of was Raven and how much he wanted to return to her side.
He’d gone to Santa Maria Novella to beg his teacher for intercession. Perhaps the saint had hearkened to his request, perhaps not. At least he and Raven were together now.
Raven wasn’t flawless in appearance as Simonetta was. But the nature of her soul, the strength of her virtue and character, made her unspeakably beautiful. With such thoughts in mind, William gazed on the princess’s face and watched as the pearl of her legendary beauty lost its luster.
Simonetta invited him to sit beside her. When he did, she extended her hand.
He kissed it briefly. “I respect Umbria’s desire for neutrality, but you must know a war is coming.”