Tenzin came down the hall with Stephen on her heels. “I will kill those guards. How a human could escape them is beyond me.”

“Where were you?” Giovanni growled at Baojia. The water vampire glared at him.

“I thought it best to let someone else protect her for a few minutes so we didn’t kill each other, di Spada. Trust me, she was in a foul mood. Someone would have been injured.”

“Someone was injured, you fool!”

Giovanni strode to their room, laying her on the bed and covering her with the thick blankets before he turned on Baojia, Tenzin, and Stephen, who had followed them.

“All of you, go away.” He spotted Nima in the corner. “Nima, can you bring her some broth, please?”

Tenzin only cocked her head, examining Beatrice’s limp form. “You’re lucky it was Baojia that found her. If there hadn’t been a water vampire around—”

“I’m well aware of the consequences, Tenzin.”

“I’m just saying you shouldn’t be so mad. She was lucky this time.”

“Tenzin, get out.”

His old friend didn’t leave. “You need to get over this attachment to her pulse, my boy. Her mortal life—”

“Out!”

Stephen grabbed Tenzin’s arm and pulled her to the door, but not before sending his daughter one longing glance over Giovanni’s shoulder. Fortunately, he didn’t try to approach the irate, territorial vampire who hovered over her. Baojia followed them, and Giovanni knelt down beside Beatrice and stroked her forehead. The cut was oozing blood, so he pierced his tongue and healed it, cleaning the wound and the blood that was smeared on her forehead. His hands framed her face, and he could feel her start to wake.

“Gio?” Her voice was rasping.

“You’re in bed, Beatrice. You fell. Or were pushed. You almost drowned. Do you have any memory of it?”

He suspected she wouldn’t. The water had washed away any scent on her, but her mind bore the telltale smudge of amnis. A vampire had attacked her. His son, probably, but there would be no proof. Lorenzo had been waiting for his opportunity, and Beatrice’s stubborn and independent nature had provided it.

“I was… taking a walk in the forest.”

“By yourself?” He tried to tamp down his anger.

“Yes, by myself.” She must have seen his expression and she scowled. “Do you know what it’s like to go weeks with people hovering around you? I was going crazy.”

“So you left and palace grounds and left yourself open to attack?”

She winced and brought a hand up to her forehead. “Can we not argue about this right now? Can we just… I have a headache.”

He glared at her. “We are talking about it now, because you might have been killed. How could you be so foolish?”

She curled her lip. “How could I be so… you know what? You try having people hovering over you twenty-four hours a day and see how you do.” She sat up in bed, color rushing to her face as her temper built up steam. “You try being the one constantly protected! Having your mind open to anyone that can get their hands on you. Being constantly under the threat of manipulation from any vampire who even brushes your skin. Have you thought about that?”

“Beatrice—”

“Have you ever thought about the fact that one touch from anyone untrustworthy would make me their puppet? Let them discover any of the secrets I know? And I’d have no way of protecting myself or the people I love! I might not even remember telling them.”

His stomach churned at the thought, but his mind fought against the words she threw at him.

“I’m sick of it! I’m sick of all of this.” Giovanni knew what she was going to say before her mouth even opened. “Gio, I’m ready.”

He sat back on his heels, as his heart began to thump. “No.”

“What is your problem? What?” She leaned toward him. “You wanted me to have a choice? Well, this is my choice. I want to be a vampire. And I don’t want to wait. This vulnerability—”

“Beatrice, you have no idea—”

“I have a very good idea what I’m giving up. I’m ready.”

He shook his head and began pacing the room. “No.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not ready.”

“I am.”

He tugged at his hair as he paced. “No!”

“It is not your choice.”

Giovanni knelt by the bed, placing both hands on her cheeks. He could feel her pulse pounding in her neck, and his desperate heart raced along with it. “Don’t I have a say in this? Haven’t I earned that? Why does it have to be right now?”

She shook her head, her eyes pleading with him. “You know why,” she whispered.

“I don’t! If you would just stay with me—”

“I can’t do that, love.” She shook her head, tears building in her eyes. “I can’t live my life under constant protection. I want to be able to protect myself. I don’t want to be vulnerable anymore. I don’t want my mind to be someone else’s open book!”

For a brief moment, he panicked at the thought of Beatrice being forced to give up the secrets she held. His conversation with Stephen had reminded him that if his and Lorenzo’s secret were ever discovered, their lives would both be forfeit to a very powerful immortal. Only one human knew the truth about his father’s death.