Elizabeth Hunter - This Same Earth

Beatrice could only gape as the whole of the River Thames waited at attention for the old water vampire. He rocked back and forth, and the river, and everything floating, mirrored his small movement.

“Wow,” she whispered.

Finally, Tywyll shrugged and the river seemed to heave a sigh before the boats drifted back downriver, and the current flowed out toward the sea. The pub settled back into its slip and the ducks landed over the rippling reflection of the moon.

He winked at her. “I like the beer, too.” Tywyll walked toward his skiff and stepped aboard. He untied the ropes and stood watching them as the boat began to drift away.

“Find yer father, Mariposa. He needs ye.’ And Giovanni Vecchio, don’t let your arrogance blind ye to the schemes of others.”

Giovanni frowned. “What aren’t you telling me, waterman?”

“Oh…” he chuckled. “A lot.”

Tywyll tipped his hat toward Beatrice as she clutched Giovanni’s hand. “Ye’ know more than ye’ realize, girl. Yer father wants ye’ to find him.”

Tywyll drifted away, and the moon rippled in the quiet wake. Beatrice and Giovanni stood on the dock and she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest and inhaling his dark, smoky scent. She could feel his arms embrace her, and she tilted her face up for a kiss.

“Do we believe him?” she whispered.

His eyes narrowed as he searched the inky night. “I think we do.”

“We’ve got a lot to think about.”

“Yes, we do. But not here.”

She paused and held him tighter as the exhaustion ate at her. She could feel his arm holding her up as they began the walk back to the car.

“Gio?”

“Yes, tesoro ?”

“I want to go home. Take me to Cochamó.”

Giovanni looked down and met her tired eyes. She saw a flare of excitement in his gaze and a smile teased the corner of his mouth. He nodded. “We’ll leave tonight.”

Santiago, Chile

March 2010

He stared at her profile in the dim light of the theater, admiring how the lights from the stage caught bits of red in her hair and made her skin glow. Giovanni had seen the play before, but Beatrice had not, and she stared at the actors with a small smile flirting around her mouth.

She must have caught his gaze from the corner of her eye.

What ? she mouthed.

“I finally took you on a date,” he whispered.

She laughed silently, and he reached across to cup her cheek before he bent and pressed a kiss to her mouth. He felt the curl of her lips against his own as she smiled and placed her cool hand on his jaw. He pulled away so she could continue to watch the performance of the Lorca play, and she felt for his hand, laying it on her lap and knitting their fingers together.

Beatrice was stunning in a black silk dress, her neck and shoulders bare. He could see the flutter of the pulse in her neck, and a flush rose in her cheeks. He made no show of hiding his hungry stare. Her dark eyes kept glancing between his rapt face and the stage; he could hear her heartbeat quicken as his amnis reached out to her. The air was lush with her scent in their corner of the dark theater. After another twenty minutes, she silently rose from her seat and took his hand, pulling him up and out the door. As soon as they reached the dark hallway, she pressed him against the wall and lifted her mouth to his as he met her in a passionate kiss.

The blood had already begun to pulse in his veins when she whispered, “Take me back to the hotel.”

Giovanni said nothing as he wrapped an arm around her waist and escorted her down the stairs of the theater and into the starlit night.

They rushed through the lively streets of the Providencia district, ignoring the flow of pedestrians and the call of music from the clubs, stopping only at lights where they kissed without thought of the people around them. It was eleven o’clock, and the warm streets of Santiago were still filled with late summer crowds, but they ignored all distractions as they hurried back to the private entrance of their hotel.

Giovanni paused when they were finally alone, pulling off his jacket and taking a calming breath to cool his skin. She stood near the open terrace doors, looking out on the lights of the city. The night air was soft as he placed his hands on the bare skin of her shoulders.

“ Tesoro mio ,” he murmured. “My Beatrice.”

He bent down to kiss behind her ear and closed his eyes as he felt the heat rise between them. He brushed at her dark hair, smoothing it away as it fell loose down her back. He could feel the rush of his blood as his heart picked up pace. Giovanni struggled to control the fire that wanted to burst from his skin.

“Do you know how I love you?” she whispered.

He wrapped both his arms around her waist and held her to his chest for a few moments, breathing in her scent and listening to the rush of her pulse. His lips kissed above the single button that held the halter of her dress in place. “How do you love me?” he murmured against her skin.

Beatrice turned in his arms and placed a hand on his cheek. “I love you forever.”

He paused, staring into her eyes. They no longer held even a trace of doubt. She had said that she loved him, but for the first time, as Beatrice looked at him, Giovanni felt as if he held her heart in his gaze. There was no caution. No reservation. His breath caught in his throat and his heart raced.

“Don’t you know,” she said with dancing eyes, “how I adore you?”

Giovanni smiled to hear his own words from so many months ago repeated on her lips.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“You know I do.”

“And do you trust me?”

A slow smile bloomed on her face. “Yes.”

“ Finally .” Giovanni’s lips swept down to meet her own, and his left hand came around her waist and pulled her away from the window. He returned to her bare shoulder, trailing his hand up to slip the button of her halter loose, then down to catch the edge of her dress.

He felt her quick intake of breath, and she gave a small cry when both his palms cupped her breasts and his mouth bent to her collarbone.

“Too long,” he groaned against her skin. The current raced over his skin. “Beatrice, I-”

“I love you, Gio,” he heard her whisper. “One life is not enough.”

His hands slipped the rest of her dress down her body. Most of her bruises had healed, and Beatrice stood before him with nothing hiding her from his eyes. She smiled and reached for his shirt, quickly undressing him as his hands trailed along her arms and the blood raced through his body.

Her skin was flushed, and he felt his fangs grow long in his mouth, but he had fed earlier in the evening and was not hungry for blood. He stepped toward her and lifted her in his arms before he walked them to the bed. He lay down facing her and let his hands leisurely explore the dips and curves of her body before his mouth followed, tasting and licking along her skin, letting his amnis spread where they touched until their senses were so heightened he thought the flames would burst from his fingertips.

‘Love is a single soul dwelling in two bodies.’

He could feel the blood rushing in her veins, and even the tiny hairs on her arms reached for him as they embraced. Giovanni rose to meet her lips again; he deepened his kiss, exploring her mouth as her hands traced along his jawline and the back of his neck. She pulled him closer, her heart racing against his heated chest as they finally immersed themselves in the passion they had suppressed for so long.

Giovanni knew he could not forget himself or lose control the way he might have wanted, so he focused on her eyes, her mouth, her breasts, and the pulsing life he held in his arms.