“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.

“Will you please tell me what is going on?” Beatrice walked down the steps, clutching her helmet in front of her. At the edge of the trees, she saw a boy emerge holding onto a bicycle and looking at Giovanni with a crooked smile. He was thin and a bit clumsy as he emerged from the brush, but his sharp brown eyes looked her over, and a smile grew on his face.

“Are you Beatrice?”

“Are you the Ben who was asking for me last week?”

He grinned and nodded. “Yep. That guard actually told you? I didn’t think he would.”

Giovanni frowned. “What do you mean, you were asking after her?”

Ben looked at Giovanni innocently. “Well, you were so nervous about talking to her—”

“Tell me why you’re out on your bike at nine-thirty, Benjamin.” Giovanni interrupted.

Oh really? So Giovanni wasn’t quite as confident as he seemed. She smirked and looked over to Ben, who grinned at her.

“I was wondering whether my uncle was going to provide a delicious and nutritious meal for me. Family time is so important and all.”

Giovanni cocked an eyebrow in the boy’s direction. “And I suppose you missed the note about the leftovers in the fridge?”

“Wait,” Beatrice held up a hand. “Uncle? Am I missing something here?”

“Only me,” Ben said with a mischievous smile, “but I’m here now, so no need to worry.”

Giovanni reached over and pinched the boy’s ear. “Don’t be rude. Introduce yourself.”

Ben propped his bike on the kickstand and held out his hand. “Benjamin Vecchio. Former pickpocket, con man, runaway, and fake nephew of the vampire to your right. You must be the beautiful Beatrice.”

She held out her hand and Ben took it, bending down to kiss the back in a gallant gesture. She chuckled and looked at Giovanni. “And you think you’re charming?”

Giovanni rolled his eyes as Ben continued kissing up her arm. He reached over and tugged Ben’s collar, pulling him away from Beatrice, who was still laughing.

“Stop it, she’s too old for you.”

“Well, technically,” Ben said with a smile, “she’s way too young for you, old man.”

“Do you like that Xbox I bought you? How about the daily meals?”

“Shutting up now,” Ben quipped. “But really, Beatrice, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Um…” She paused. “Likewise. And please call me B, only the professor here calls me Beatrice. So you’re his fake nephew, huh?”

Giovanni put an arm around Ben’s shoulders. “My poor, departed brother’s child. Tragic accident.”

“Very tragic,” Ben nodded solemnly. “I still cry sometimes. Not really. My real parents were assholes.”

She nodded along, trying to integrate this new, paternal side of the vampire. She knew it shouldn’t surprise her—after all, he had raised Caspar—but it was still difficult to think about the man that made her blood boil with anger and desire in equal measure being, for all practical purposes, a father.