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“She is but a pleasant diversion, Father.”
The Roman closed his eyes.
William’s entire body tensed. He could almost feel his bones bending beneath the strain of his muscles.
“Kiss me, my son.” The Roman opened his eyes.
William climbed the steps and kissed his maker.
The Roman stroked his head, running his fingers through the short, fair hair.
“Here is my beloved son,” he whispered. “Who would never betray me.”
He released William with a short caress, and the Prince withdrew down the steps.
“I shall speak to Cato about our conversation. You are free to deny the Curia’s request and to return with your pet to Florence.”
“Thank you, Father.” William knelt on the ground, relief coursing over him.
“You may inform the Curia that you consulted me, and I agreed with your decision.”
At this, William lifted his head.
The Roman was staring at the fresco of William’s transformation. “I have seen much since the second century. Kingdoms rise and fall; the strength of our enemies grows and wanes. But they cannot destroy me, and this they know.”
The Roman’s gaze sharpened as it fixed on his son. “Perhaps you will escape the curse. Perhaps not. Only time will tell.
“I have granted you this favor. You have pledged unfailing service. In the years you have left, I demand absolute obedience.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Good. Send Cato to me.”
William bowed and retreated to the door, watching as the Roman glanced at the fresco once again before closing his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Three
WILLIAM WAS TREMENDOUSLY DISQUIETED.
He had to resist the urge to run through the palace corridors, pull Raven into his arms, and flee. But the eyes of the Roman were upon him, he was certain, so he forced himself to follow Gaius at a moderate pace as the captain led him back to the room where Raven waited.
He’d accomplished his goal. He’d secured the support of the most powerful vampyre in Italy, if not the world. But undoubtedly, it had cost him. The Roman might be weary of public life, but he was no fool. He’d noticed William’s attachment to his pet. The sooner he was able to remove Raven from the palace, the better.
“Prepare to depart.” William barked to his soldiers, sparing them not a glance as he crossed to the adjoining room.
He opened the door and noted the two sisters curled up together on one of the couches, asleep.
He closed the door and stood over them, like a dark angel.
He barely remembered his own siblings, and he couldn’t imagine resting with them. He’d loved his family, especially his sisters and his mother. But family life in the thirteenth century under the tyranny of his father had not been warm or comfortable.
The bond between Raven and Cara was not something he understood.
He placed a light hand on Raven’s head. “Cassita.”
When she didn’t stir, he stroked her hair gently. “Cassita.”
Raven came awake with a start. “What? What is it?”
She pulled away from her slumbering sibling and sat up. Cara didn’t move.
“The Roman has taken our side.” William caressed Raven’s face. “We must contact your priest as soon as possible and make arrangements to deliver Cara to him.”
“Will she be safe?” Raven eyed Cara with concern.
“Much as it pains me to say it, she is more vulnerable to vampyres than to the Curia. The Curia won’t kill her.” William’s expression hardened. “Your priest will be angry that I refuse to give you up. He may try to take you by force. We must be prepared.”
“I’m not worried about myself; I’m worried about her,” Raven replied. “She will have to deal with losing Dan. I suppose forgetting about vampyres will be a mercy.”
“The Curia are not known for their mercy,” William sniped. “But she is a victim to them, which means they will protect her.
“We must go. The sooner they know we have the Roman’s support, the better.”
“I have my cell phone.” Raven retrieved it from the pocket of her jeans. “I’ll call Father. But I want you to remove the mind control from Cara first.”
“No.”
“William.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I shall remove the mind control when she joins your priest, but not a moment before. It’s too dangerous.”
Raven’s gaze dropped to his arms, to the muscles that contracted as his body tensed.
“I thought the Roman agreed to help us.”
“He did.”
She frowned. “Then why are we still in danger?”
As if by instinct, William glanced around the room. But he and the women were alone.
“The Roman seems to have taken an interest in my pet. He asked to meet you and your sister.”
Raven shifted backward on the couch. “I don’t want to meet him.”
“No, you do not.” William passed a hand over his mouth in agitation.
“Will he keep us here?”
“At the moment, we are free to leave. But we should arrange to deliver Cara to your priest as soon as possible.”
Raven stood. She placed her hand at the back of his neck, drawing his forehead down to meet hers.
“Thank you.”
He didn’t respond.
“I love you,” she pressed.
“Je t’aim.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his body.
“Thank you for protecting us.” She kissed the corners of his mouth before centering her lips on his. “I trust you.”
“You are the only trust that exists in my world.” He spoke against her mouth. “I trust no one else.”
He kissed her deeply, angling his head. Just as quickly, he released her, kissing her forehead. “We need to contact your priest.”
“Okay.” She lifted her cell phone, took a deep breath, and dialed a number.
The priest answered on the third ring. “Raven?”
“Father? I’m in Rome with Cara. We need to see you.”
The journey from the Palatine Hill to the Vatican was not a long one, only about five kilometers. Gaius and a few of his soldiers accompa
nied the Florentines up Via della Conciliazione toward the border between Italy and Vatican City. Beyond this point no vampyre dared go, as the entire city state was built on holy ground.
Within this walled enclave, the Curia trained, plotted, and conducted its business in secret, protected by the public face of the Vatican.
It was a few hours before sunrise, and the city of Rome remained shrouded in darkness. The great Basilica of St. Peter shone like a beacon, while the piazza in front of it was only dimly illuminated. Unfortunately for the vampyres that approached on foot, the accompanying shadows were not large enough to conceal them.
The Prince sniffed the air, his gaze drawn to the rooftops of the buildings that rose on either side of the street.
“Curia,” he whispered, pointing with his chin at their unseen enemies.
In reaction, Gaius barked, “Lift high the standard.”
The standard bearer raised the flag of the Roman, which featured a ring of laurel leaves on a black background. A she-wolf stood in the center of the ring.
Gaius addressed the Prince. “Our presence should guarantee your safety. But my orders are not to engage, unless attacked.”
“So noted.” The Prince extended his arm in friendship, and Gaius clasped it, hand to elbow.
The captain and his soldiers fell back, standing by one of the buildings while the Florentines marched toward Vatican City.
About one hundred meters from the border, the Prince commanded his soldiers to halt, arms at the ready. They were exposed in this position, but he was determined to show strength.
He turned to stare at the standard of the Roman flying nearby, knowing his every move was being watched.
Gaius saluted in return.
The Prince took Raven and Cara by the hand, one on each side, and began to walk toward the border.
“Whatever happens, don’t cross the line,” he whispered to Raven. “I cannot tread on holy ground.”
Raven’s eyebrows lifted, for she knew his last statement to be a lie. But she nodded.
He stopped short of the border, occupying a space where the light was dim. He released the women’s hands and took Cara by the shoulders. Fixing his eyes on hers, he spoke. “Cara, I release you. Your mind is your own again.”
