The Raven by Sylvain Reynard
“Niccolò and Lorenzo, I want the city to be impenetrable. I want our army at the ready. It’s possible this hunting party is a sortie for a larger incursion.”
The Prince stood, as did the council members, who bowed as he swept from the throne and down the aisle.
Before he reached the door, Aoibhe was at his elbow.
“May I have a word, my prince?”
He turned, examining her face.
She appeared calm, if not curious. Seemingly satisfied, he gestured to a corner and followed her.
“I see you took my advice.” Aoibhe smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
William’s expression tightened. “The girl is a diversion; not a consort.”
“Then there’s room in your bed for me.”
William simply returned her stare. Aoibhe tilted her head as she scanned his features.
“No doubt it will take some time for you to tire of your new pet. I can be patient. Is she under mind control? I couldn’t tell.”
“Is there a point to this conversation?”
Aoibhe tossed her long red hair.
“Your pet’s scent is masked. Was she a virgin?”
William gritted his teeth. “Be alert this evening, Aoibhe. The hunters will find you irresistible.”
“I suppose that means she wasn’t.” Aoibhe tapped a finger to her lips, as if she were deep in thought. “If she wasn’t a virgin, I’m surprised you bothered with her. Tell me, was she sweet?”
The Prince glared. He was about to leave, when something over her shoulder caught his eye. The other council members were turned in their direction, observing them with more than a little interest.
His eyes returned to hers.
With practiced ease, he lifted his right hand and brought it to her face, swiping his thumb across her lips.
Her dark eyes widened in surprise and she drew his thumb into her mouth, sucking deeply.
“She’s a pet. Nothing more.” He kissed her aggressively and she reciprocated, nipping at his lower lip.
William pulled back with a scowl, lifting a hand to his mouth. Mercifully, she hadn’t drawn blood.
Aoibhe winked at him.
“I’m glad we have an understanding. You know where to find me when you grow tired of your pet.”
She turned to rejoin the other council members, but spoke over her shoulder.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Somehow the journey up the spiral staircase seemed much longer than the downward climb. Raven clung to William’s side, eager to flee the strange world he inhabited.
Inhabited.
Her thoughts caught on the word. William didn’t simply inhabit the underworld; he ruled it. Judging from the deference she’d heard in the voices of his associates, they feared him.
She had thought of him as a member of a group of vampyres, not as the leader. If she’d been afraid of him before, her fear had tripled.
Now I’m his pet.
She cringed. The term, as well as the experience, was demeaning. If she hadn’t been afraid for her life, she would have objected. Loudly.
Her commitment to the laws of nature and what was physically possible had been weakened and almost destroyed. She’d seen and heard too much, both above and below the mysterious staircase. And the way the men and women in the gymnasium moved . . .
She wondered why vampyres hadn’t taken over the world.
Raven stumbled and she felt William’s iron grasp on her right elbow.
“Keep going,” he whispered.
She didn’t know if they were visible to the others. Certainly she didn’t hear any other footsteps on the staircase.
Her heart was beating very fast. She was sure the adrenaline was what was staving off the discomfort of wearing high heels.
William didn’t speak, but he moved so that his arm was wrapped around her waist.
Raven found his touch comforting.
A few more minutes and they were moving through doors and down hallways. William helped her into a car and sat beside her, removing her blindfold and shoving it into his jacket pocket as they drove through the city streets.
She exhaled a sigh of relief.
His face was watchful, careful. “It’s possible my brethren might follow us, but they’ll be stopped at the gate to the villa. They can’t cross onto the property.”
“Why not?” she croaked, her mouth dry.
William retrieved a bottle of water from Luka, who was driving.
Raven accepted it gratefully.
“Let’s just say there are certain things in my possession that prevent the others from troubling me.”
“You didn’t tell me you were a prince.”
“The title refers to my position.” William watched as she drank half the bottle. “The ruling vampyre of a principality is known as the Prince. Thus, I am the Prince of Florence.”
“How long have you been prince?”
“Since the fourteenth century.”
Raven began to choke, water spilling into her lungs. She coughed and spluttered while William looked on helplessly.
“Are you all right? What should I do?”
She waved aside his hand and continued to cough, clearing the water from her throat.
“Luka, stop the car,” William instructed.
“No,” she managed to say, though she continued coughing. “I’m okay.”
“You don’t sound okay.” He placed his arm around her shoulder.
She coughed a few more times.
“I’m fine.”
Carefully, she sipped her water. Then she took a deep breath and exhaled.
“Are you all right now?” His pale eyebrows had drawn together.
“Much better, thanks.”
“You have to be more careful.”
“I didn’t realize that drinking water while you were talking was hazardous.” She glared at him. “If you became prince in the fourteenth century, you must have been born earlier than that.”
He nodded once.
“How much earlier?”
“I’ve kept my age a secret, for various reasons.”
She frowned. “What kind of reasons?”
He gave her a look calculated to end her line of inquiry.
“How does one become a prince?”
“Usually, by destroying the previous one.” His tone was casual, too casual.
Raven’s blood grew cold.
“I never destroyed anyone who didn’t deserve it. Remember that before you condemn me.”
He withdrew his arm from her shoulder and turned his attention to the darkened cityscape.
Raven took another drink of water, not knowing how to respond.
William was unaccustomed to justifying his actions. Since he’d become prince, he hadn’t had the need.
But even as he explained himself to the young woman who sat beside him, he felt a new emotion. He pushed it aside, not wanting to deal with it.
“You were very brave this evening. I would have liked to reward you by showing you the wonders of my city, but there are hunters about. Our tour will have to wait.”
Raven put her empty water bottle aside. “Who would be crazy enough to hunt you?”
“Two groups. This is the weaker one. Some of the weaker ones hunt for sport, but most do so in order to harvest blood.”
“Vampyre blood?”
“Wealthy humans use it for healing purposes but also to combat aging. We’re difficult to kill, which makes our blood rare and very valuable. So valuable the hunters sometimes target ferals.”
“Is their blood similar?”
“Feral blood induces madness.”
Raven swallowed hard. “If someone thought she was taking vampyre blood but got feral blood instead, she’d go mad?”
“Whatever animates a feral is transmitted by the blood. The darkness migrates to whoever ingests it.” He looked over her shoulder briefly, as if he were considering something. “It’s similar to po
Raven rubbed her temple as the ghost of a headache emerged. Clearly her body was having trouble processing these successive revelations.
If that feral had bitten me the other night, would I go mad?”
“If there’d been a transfer of blood in a suitable amount, yes.”
Raven closed her eyes, trying with all her might to keep a close rein on her emotions. Her heart thumped in her chest and she felt a cold clamminess pass over her skin.
William took her hand in his.
“Are you going to be sick?”
“I don’t know.”
“Luka, stop the car.”
Obediently, Luka slowed the car and pulled into an alley.
William turned, giving Raven his full attention.
“If you took a catechism class in your parish, then you know all about angels and demons and supernatural events.”
“I stopped believing that shit when I was twelve.”
“Why?”
Raven answered by leaning back against the headrest and breathing deeply, eyes still closed.
“If you believed in it once, you can believe in it again. Just add vampyres and ferals to the angels and demons.”
“Are you saying there are angels and demons?”
“Undoubtedly.”
Raven cursed.
William moved closer to her. “Ferals kill; they don’t maim. If one attacked you, you’d be dead in seconds. After that, it would feed from you. Vampyres prefer their food alive.”
“Strangely, I don’t find that comforting.”
He pulled her into his side and lowered his voice.
“Take comfort in the knowledge that you are under the protection of the most powerful vampyre in the kingdom of Italy, with the exception of the Roman.”
Raven opened her eyes. “Who’s the Roman?”
“The Roman is the ruler of the principality of Rome. Since ancient times, the Roman was also considered to be the king of the principalities that now make up Italy.”
“He’s more powerful than you?”
“Much.”
Raven blew out a loud breath. “Where does your power come from?”
He tugged at a lock of her hair.
“Not so fast, Delilah. I’m not about to reveal all my secrets.”
“I didn’t know vampyres went to Sunday school.”
William’s smile faded.
“The less said on that subject the better. Not that my training protected me.”
Raven felt his anger. It seemed to seep out of his skin, filling the car. But it wasn’t directed at her.
“Lucia packed up your belongings at the villa and Ambrogio has transferred them to your flat. If anything was missed, tell him and he will deliver it to you.”
“The things at the villa aren’t mine. I arrived only with this.” She pointed to the knapsack that sat on the floor.
“The clothes were bought for you.”
“You didn’t need to do that.” Her cheeks pinked in embarrassment. “Some of them won’t fit.”
“Weight loss is an unfortunate side effect of ingesting vampyre blood. You’ll be back to your healthy weight soon enough.”
Raven’s mouth dropped open.
She was going to protest, or at least ask him to clarify what he’d said, but he’d already continued speaking.
“Ambrogio had to remove the relic from your flat before you returned.”
Raven’s attention shifted immediately.
“You took it back, remember? It was in my knapsack when Bruno was attacked.”
“I placed another in your flat the night I returned you.”
“I didn’t see it.”
“It was hidden under your bed. I had no intention of seeing you again. I left a relic to protect you.”
Raven gave him a searching look.
“That was very . . . good of you. Why are you taking it back?”
“The others will be curious about you. They’ll find your apartment. The relic must be gone by then. And I won’t be returning the one I gave you before.”
“But why?”
“You’re supposed to be my pet. Relics deter my kind.” He spoke abruptly.
“They don’t deter you.”
William gave her a look that was dangerous, if not cold, and she found herself inching away from him.
“You don’t need to worry about me telling tales.”
He glared his warning. “I hope for your sake that’s true.”
“A vampyre’s pet wouldn’t have relics because they would deter her vampyre.”
“Exactly.”
“What about Maximilian? He knew I had a relic in my knapsack. I’m sure of it.”
“Don’t worry about Max.” William’s voice was clipped.
“So your brethren don’t know that relics have no effect on you.” She looked at William with new eyes. “Why do you keep it secret? Don’t you want them to know how powerful you are?”
“Power is at its most powerful when it is concealed.” His face, like his tone, grew dark.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Are you going to be sick?”
“No.”
William turned his attention to the driver. “Luka, we can proceed.”
Silence filled the car as they crossed the Arno. William placed his palms on his knees, tapping his fingers against the wool.
Raven was seized with the impression he was anxious or impatient about something.
As they approached Piazza Santo Spirito and Raven’s apartment, he spoke.
“I promised to help the boy and I will do so until he recovers. I will also endeavor to ease the suffering of your neighbor.”
“Thank you.”
“The depth of your concern for your fellow human beings took me by surprise.” He paused, his gaze suddenly fixed on one of the buildings. “I am not usually surprised.”
His remark didn’t seem to require a response, so Raven didn’t answer. She leaned forward to pick up her knapsack and settled it on her lap.
Luka parked the car near Raven’s building and immediately got out. He closed the door and stood behind the car, his posture alert.
“I realize that your willingness to stay with me was based on your wish to help your friends. But it is my hope that you—” William stopped, his voice filled with longing.
“What do you hope?” She tried to make eye contact.
“Nothing.” He kept his gaze fixed on the street. “I hope for nothing because hope is vain.”
Raven toyed with her knapsack. “Despair is the absence of hope.”
“Don’t presume to lecture me on despair,” he snapped.
Raven twisted her fingers.
“I’m sorry,” she said meekly.
He turned, placing his hand under her chin. “You are the only ray of hope I’ve seen since 1274. You’re the only one who has caused my heart to beat again.”
For a moment, Raven saw something much deeper than physical desire in his eyes. She didn’t know what it was, but she saw it and felt it, shimmering in the air between them.
All at once, he covered her mouth with his own, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips.
She opened to him.
William swept the knapsack aside, tugging her into his arms.
His tongue pushed past her lips, sliding against her own. His hand moved to her neck.
In a few swift movements, he undid the knotted silk at her throat. Then his lips were on her neck.
Raven’s eyes shot open.
He nipped at her skin before laving it with his tongue. Over and over he repeated the sequence as Raven’s heart sped in her chest.
She shifted her legs as heat flared in her middle and lower down. Tentatively, she touched his hair, pushing back the strands with her fingers. Still his lips moved against her throat.
He drew some flesh into his mouth and sucked.
Raven gasped.
William’s mouth gentled. He kissed the tender spot
He pressed a few small kisses to the indentation at the base of her throat before brushing his lips across hers.
“Was that a bite?” she whispered.
William moved back. “No.”
She touched her neck. The skin wasn’t broken.
She examined her hand. There wasn’t any blood.
He bent to retrieve her scarf, which had fallen to her feet. He placed it in her lap.
“I would never feed from you unless you offered yourself.”
“Isn’t that what vampyres do?”
“Don’t tempt me.” His voice grew cold.
“I don’t understand you.” She shook her head.
“What’s not to understand?”
“How you can be so harsh and kiss like that.”
William’s face broke into a smile and he placed his arm around her.
“I predate the advent of psychology, Cassita. I can’t offer that kind of self-analysis.”
Raven tentatively rested her head on his shoulder and was rewarded when his other arm wrapped around her waist.
“I know you’re dangerous,” she confessed. “But I know without doubt that I’m alive because of you and for that I’m grateful.”
“Gratitude is a start,” he mused.
“Bruno’s grandmother was kind to me when I first came to Florence. Thank you for helping her and for saving Bruno.”
William nodded against her hair.
She placed her hand on his chest, near his heart.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course. I don’t promise to answer, but you can ask.”
“When we were with your people, I heard someone mention something about a mark. What was that about?”
“If you were my pet, I’d have fed from you by now.” He gestured to her neck. “They’d see more than just a bruise. From now on, you’ll need to cover your neck whenever you’re in public.”
“I can do that. I like scarves.”
“You can keep this one. Lucia can buy another.”
Raven lifted her head. “Won’t she want it back?”
“Not if I tell her not to.”
Raven decided not to argue with him. She’d see that Lucia’s scarf was returned later on.