I remained silent.
He sighed. “I am wounded that our father never told you about me. I know all about you.” His evil eyes glinted as he said that.
“Father? What are you talking about?” I asked, getting angry with this man.
I could see he was getting annoyed with me, but I was completely at a loss as to what he was saying.
“Our sire, Constantine,” he snapped. The realization dawned on me that this Vampire was another one of his charges.
Curious now, I stared at him in wonder. I had never met another of Constantine’s charges before. Brother. I had a brother.
“No, he hasn’t mentioned you, but then today is the first time I have seen him in over a hundred years. When did he turn you?” I asked eagerly.
I expected him to say sometime in the time after I left Tuscany in 1112, but he surprised me by saying, “350 BC. After Rome defeated the Gaul’s.”
I stared at him, mouth agape. I quickly did the math: that makes him one thousand, five hundred and ninety-nine years old.
He smiled slowly, registering my surprise. “Have I taken you by surprise, Sister?” he queried.
Recovering my composure, I shook my head and stepped back to invite him in.
He grabbed my arm in a vice-like grip that I was unable to get out of and said, “On second tho
ught, I think we will skip this part and you can come straight home with me.”
“Home with you?” I asked, only slightly alarmed. “I do not want to leave here.”
“Back to my castle. In Transylvania. I think it is time we got to know each other better.” His voice was like ice and a ripple of fear went through me.
He dragged me along to his waiting carriage, tightening his grip on me as I squirmed to get away.
“I don’t want to go with you,” I told him, but he was not listening.
“Father was right about you, pretty and with fire, he’d said. I think I am going to have a wonderful time with you. I do so hope that you will enjoy my company, Lucretia. Things will be better for you if you do.” He stroked my face. I felt a chill go through me as his black eyes grew wider and he murmured something in a language I had never heard before. I felt myself getting sleepy. I tried to keep my eyes open, but I could not. I drifted off, with his arm around me as he stroked my hair.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Tuscany, Italy, 2012 – Liv/Aefre
L istening to CK do business on his phone is getting boring. I pluck the cigarette out of his hand and wander over to the dresser to pull on a black satin robe. My hand is feeling bare of my wedding rings. I frown and walk over to get them from the bedside table. I pick them up and replace them. I can’t help but admire the one that CK has given me in the process. It is absolutely priceless, a pure work of art and very ostentatious. I love it. But even if it had been a simple brass ring, I would still cherish it. It’s all I ever wanted from him and he decides that now is the best time to give it to me. I huff in exasperation. He is such a…man!
I stub out the cigarette and wander off, leaving him to his work. I want to have another look at my old bedroom. I can’t believe he left it exactly as I had. I push the door open and walk into the gloom, the heavy drapes still pulled over the windows. I pull one back an inch and peer through the dingy glass. The view is as breathtaking as ever, but it has changed. Quite a bit, I note with surprise.
I let my eyes drift over the contents of my desk. I’m surprised that the letters I wrote to him are still here in the little cubby with the glass front, faded and crumbling. I daren’t touch them in case they disintegrate completely under my fingers, but I hover my hand as close to them as I dare.
“Thought I would find you here,” he says from behind me.
Smiling at his voice, I turn. My breath leaves me. He is dressed in soft black jeans, a tight black t-shirt and nothing else. Casual CK is a sight to behold. Mind you, he could make a sack look good.
“Did you ever read them?” I ask, pointing to the pile.
He cocks his eyebrow. “No. Was I supposed to?” he asks.
“They were for you. I thought you might have,” I say a bit disappointed. They are full of poetry and love. It would have been nice if he’d read them.
“I didn’t know. I left everything as you left it,” he says.
“Clearly it is well house kept, though. There is hardly a speck of dust,” I point out.