Elizabeth Hunter - This Same Earth

She took deep breaths, finally calming the beat of her heart and the rush of her blood. She focused her mind and tried to see him as just another visiting Ph.D.

“Well, Dr. Vecchio, let’s get started.”

They worked silently for another hour, quickly falling back into the unspoken communication they’d always shared. But then, Giovanni had always had an uncanny knack for understanding the way her brain worked, and she’d had the same understanding of him.

“Did you find that one letter from Governor Portolá to-”

“Yes, I did. Thank you, that mention of the young friar-”

“Yeah, I thought that might be what you were looking for there.”

They skimmed through the first stack of documents from Mission San Diego and moved on to a stack of letters from Monterrey. They continued to whisper back and forth throughout the evening.

“Have you seen any further correspondence from the priest in San Diego that-”

“You mean the young Catalán? I think there’s something in this stack here…”

“Ah, exactly. That’s what I’m looking for. Thank you, tesoro . Look at the year. That’s promising.”

As they worked, the years seemed to slip away. Strangely, Beatrice felt even more at ease than she had when she’d first worked with Giovanni. She supposed the years she’d spent at school and working with visiting scholars had given her much-needed confidence. She was no longer intimidated by his intellect or his experience, and she realized he no longer treated her as a bright student but more like a colleague.

When it was time to leave, she felt reluctant to go back to her empty house, even though she knew she should. He hadn’t made any more suggestive overtures, but five years of questions tugged at her mind. Luckily-or unluckily, she couldn’t decide-he was waiting on the steps outside the library when she exited holding her helmet and the black backpack she wore riding.

“So…a motorcycle?”

She sat down on the steps, keeping a careful distance from him. “It’s easy on gas and good for traffic.”

“And sexy. Beautiful woman on a fast bike? Very sexy, tesoro ,” he said with a wink.

Well, that hadn’t taken long.

“Gio, you need to-”

“Don’t shush me. I’m allowed to express an opinion.”

“What-” Beatrice paused, waiting for Dr. Stevens to pass. “Where have you been? Since you have appeared out of nowhere, and apparently want back in my life, I think I have a right to know.”

He leaned toward her and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I definitely want back in your life. And I like the hair, by the way. It suits you, though I do miss the length. I had dreams about that long hair-”

“Damn it!” She slapped his hand away. “Stop saying shit like that, all right? I have a boyfriend, and I’m trying to have an actual conversation with you.”

Giovanni smirked but leaned back, placing his elbows on the steps above and stretching his long legs in front of him. She rolled her eyes, wishing she didn’t notice the way his shirt stretched across his defined chest.

“Fine. And of course you have a right to know where I’ve been. I’ve been traveling mostly-”

“Yeah, got the postcards, thanks a bunch.”

He smiled. “Did you keep them? Those are all the places your father left me a clue, then disappeared before I could get there.”

Her heart almost stopped. “You-you’ve been looking for my father?” she whispered, tears springing to her eyes. “All this time?”

He looked away, allowing her to wipe her eyes. “On and off, yes. I told you I’d find him. I have a great desire to meet your father. He is both impressively and irritatingly good at hiding himself.”

When Beatrice had moved to L.A.-and the threat of Lorenzo seemed to disappear-she had hoped her father would find her. She’d waited, keeping a faint hope alive he could be part of her life again. But as the years passed, Stephen De Novo, and whatever mystery he carried with him, remained stubbornly out of reach. So, she tucked him away into a dark corner of her heart and tried to forget.

She was still trying to process the idea of Giovanni spending the previous five years looking for her missing father. “How did you know where to look?”

“Oh,” Giovanni murmured, “I would get word through certain channels that he’d been asking questions of this associate or that acquaintance. Looking for records at a certain library or auction house. All little clues he must have known I would pick up on, if I was looking for him.”

“Did he know you were looking for him?”

“Yes.” His expression darkened. “I let it be known I wanted to meet with him. De Novo kept leaving traces, but by the time I would get to any location, he would be gone.”

Beatrice frowned, twisting her hands together. “Does he think you want to hurt him? Is that why he’s hiding?”

“I don’t know, though it’s fairly well-known that his daughter is…”

“What? His daughter is what?”

Giovanni cleared his throat. “To put it bluntly, ‘my human,’ and-

Her eyes popped wide. “What?”

“-I wanted to speak to him-”

“‘Your human?’” she hissed.

“Beatrice.”

“Was there some sort of memo I should have gotten about this?”

“Beatrice?”

“Because, it’s been five years , and I sure don’t remember-”

“Beatrice!”

She fell silent, glaring at him, but he only leaned closer.

“You stole an almost unspeakable amount of money from an immortal. One who still has many friends. You’ve been living here in peace for five years now. Do you think that was some sort of accident or luck?”

“I don’t know! I thought you said I’d be safe!”

“You are safe, but did you think everyone in my world…” Giovanni glanced over at the trees and lowered his voice. “Did you think they had forgotten? You’ve been under my protection since I kissed you at The Night Hawk pub six years ago. That has never changed.”

She felt like she’d been punched in the chest. “But-”

“It doesn’t matter whether you have a boyfriend,” he bit out, “or whether we see each other or not. You’ll be under my aegis for as long as you live.” He paused, but there was no amusement or victory in his eyes. “Or you’re fair game, Beatrice. And that is not acceptable to me.”

Beatrice whispered, “I wish you’d told me.”

She’d been fooling herself. The graduate degree. The very respectable job. The little house in Silver Lake. Mano… All pieces of a life that was still under someone else’s control.

Giovanni took a deep breath. When he continued his voice was hoarse, “Why would I tell you all that? So you could worry? So you could have nightmares again and spend your days looking over your shoulder? I didn’t want that for you, tesoro .”

She shook her head and glared at him. “What the hell did you want for me? Why didn’t you ever come to Cochamó when you knew I’d be there? Did you want me to miss you? To wonder every night if you were alive or-” She broke off when he held up a hand.

“You should be quiet unless you want an audience,” he muttered, looking at the trees again.

“What? What are you talking about?” She craned her neck, trying to see in the darkness.

Giovanni sighed. “Benjamin, stop hiding in the trees and come introduce yourself.”

“Benjamin?” Her eyes narrowed. “ Ben? ”

“Are you going to be mad at me?” She heard a child’s voice call from the shadows and looked back at Giovanni, who was sitting with an expression both sulking and amused.

“No.” He stood and reached for her hand. “Just come out.” He muttered something else in Italian she didn’t understand.