Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

As murmurs of disbelief rippled through the dozen friends who were assembled in Raphael’s parlor, Lorenzo felt disappointment settle in. He’d been so sure the list showed the members of the hated Guardians of the Holy Waters, the group who’d been hunting him and his friends for years.

He let his gaze travel to Bianca, who sat on the sofa next to Isabella and gave her a reassuring look. While Nico, Raphael, Dante, and the latter two’s wives had already met Bianca three weeks earlier, today Lorenzo had introduced her as his wife to the remainder of their closely knit group. Rumors about his nuptials had already traveled like a wildfire through the canals of Venice, and his friends had been eager to set eyes on the woman who’d stolen his heart.

“Then why would Signore Greco hide it with a ring of the Guardians? Is it to try and throw us off their trail?” Andrea asked.

“A ruse, I assume,” Dante explained. “I assure you, Raphael and I have investigated each and every single name on this list. Without any success. The names are false.”

“And incomplete.” Isabella’s words made Lorenzo snap his gaze to her.

“How can you know that?” Lorenzo took a step closer to her.

“Because neither my late husband’s nor Massimo’s name is on it.”

“Nor Salvatore’s,” Viola, who stood next to Dante, added.

Lorenzo remembered all too well what had happened to the three men: Giovanni, Isabella’s first husband and a Guardian had drowned. Massimo, another Guardian, who’d threatened to kill Raphael had been shot dead by Isabella, and Salvatore, the Guardian who’d nearly killed Dante and had forced him to turn Viola into a vampire to save her from certain death, had been shot and killed by Raphael.

“Maybe they’re not on the list because they’re dead,” Lorenzo voiced his observation.

Bianca shook her head. “I don’t think so. The ink on the paper looks old and worn. My father didn’t write this list in the last few months before his death.”

Raphael looked at the list in his hands again. “I agree. This is older than simply a few months. Hence it’s impossible for those three men not to be on the list. Signore Greco couldn’t have known about their deaths when he wrote down the names.”

“Maybe they are on the list after all.” Everybody turned at Nico’s words.

“How so?” Lorenzo asked, curious whether Nico had figured something out that the rest of them had overlooked.

“A code.”

Raphael’s gaze swept over the paper in his hands. “By God!”

“Yes,” Nico continued, “what if they all have code names they call each other by, so that if they are being overheard, their true identities won’t be revealed?”

Lorenzo’s spirit lifted. The find hadn’t been for naught. “Then we simply have to figure out the code. Knowing that Massimo, Giovanni and Salvatore have to be on the list, if we can decipher what their code names were, we can get behind the logic of it and figure out the remaining names.”

Nico grinned. “You’re taking the words right out of my mouth, my friend.”

“Excellent!” Dante slapped Nico on the shoulder and looked into the round. “Let’s get to work then.”

As his friends huddled together to pour over the list, Isabella rose from her seat and approached him. In a low voice, she addressed him. “Lorenzo, I think you should take your wife home. She seems unwell.”

Instantly, his gaze shot to his wife, and indeed she looked somewhat pale. “Thank you, Isabella.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it before he strode to Bianca.

“My sweet, let’s go home.”

Bianca gave him a grateful smile. “If you need to stay, I can go by myself.”

Lorenzo pulled her up to stand. “I’d rather spend the rest of the night with you than with my friends.” Then he snaked his arm around her waist. “Now come, you need to rest.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

He smiled at her attempt to brush off his concern and made his excuses before he led Bianca out of the house. Glad that his house was only steps from Raphael and Dante’s, he lifted her into his arms and carried her, ignoring her protests.

“I can walk.”

He pressed a quick kiss on her lips to stop her from talking, then carried her into their home and up the stairs. “I like having you in my arms.”

In their chamber, he gently set her on her feet. She instantly swayed, then ran for the commode which held a pitcher of water and a bowl.

“Oh, no!” she wailed, before she bent over the bowl and cast up her accounts.

With two steps, Lorenzo was behind her, slid his arm around her waist and supported her. Despite the fact that she was unwell, he couldn’t suppress his smile. His sweet little wife was giving him the most amazing present.

With his free hand he poured her a glass of water.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong. Maybe the meat I ate was spoiled.”

“Drink.”

She took a gulp of water, washing out her mouth, then spit it out. “I’m better. I’m sorry you had to see this.”