“I was in Shanghai a few years ago meeting with some old contacts. I was able to see some amazing martial arts demonstrations. You would have loved them.” He knew Beatrice had developed an interest in self-defense and martial arts in the years they had been apart. Considering her kidnapping, it was not a surprise.

He saw her smile. “Are you trying to tempt me with exotic travel and intrigue if I come work for you?”

“Yes. Is it working?”

She looked around the reading room and over at Dr. Stevens, who was still watching her like a hawk, no doubt wondering why Giovanni had requested her specifically. He’d have to alter the woman’s memories again before he left for the night.

“I like Southern California.”

“Good, we’ll make our base here and come back in between research trips.” He continued before she had time to interrupt. “Have I told you how nice it is to be working with you again? Or in a library at all, for that matter? I’ve been doing irritating political things in the past few years. Very annoying. I have to talk with all sorts of unpleasant people who like to hear themselves speak. Whining and simpering. They all remind me of my time with my father.”

“What kind of political things?”

“Oh, visiting people that owe me favors. Trying to determine what my son is up to. A kind of intelligence gathering, I suppose. All those things I tried to avoid for the past three hundred years.”

She snorted. “I’d apologize, but you’re the one who made him.”

“No apologies necessary. I put the matter of dealing with him off for too long.”

“And your books? Andros’s library?” She put down the journal she’d been working on and picked up another. “Any clues about that?”

“A bit. The majority of it remains a mystery, but he’s sold off some of the more easily moveable pieces of the collection, so I’ve reacquired a few things. You really must have wiped him out when you took his accounts, tesoro.”

“That’s always nice to hear.”

“And you appear to be doing quite well financially.”

Giovanni saw her smirk. “I don’t have to worry about paying the bills, no.”

He gave a quiet chuckle. “So I’ve collected a few more of my father’s books. I’ve tried to track your father. I’ve reestablished myself among some allies. Then I found Benjamin, and that’s been quite the project.”

“Sounds like you were busy,” she said in a small voice.

“And I missed you every day.”

She was silent for a few long minutes. He wondered if she would respond at all.

“You knew where to find me,” she finally said.

Giovanni had no answer for her. He had known where to find her, but he had also known that she needed time to grow and mature. He only hoped he could convince her that it was worth giving him another chance.

“Beatrice—”

“So have you heard anything more about Lorenzo? He still staying under the radar?”

He sighed and picked up another letter. “He has been. I’ll hear something every now and then about him or one of his children, but for the most part he’s been quiet.”

“Why do I find that disturbing?”

“Probably because it’s easier to kill the snake on the path than the one in the rocks.”

She looked at him. “That’s an excellent description of him.”

“A snake?” He cocked an eyebrow. “It’s an accurate one.”

She murmured under her breath, “He’s like this ghost in the back of my mind. I try to forget him, but…”

He reached over and squeezed her hand quickly. “Don’t forget about him until he’s dead.”

Beatrice shook her head. “Why did I ever fool myself?”

He frowned. “What? What are you talking about?”

She looked at him for a long moment before she turned back to the journal she’d been studying. “Nothing.”

Giovanni knew it wasn’t nothing, but he also knew she wouldn’t tell him. They worked silently together for another half an hour. Finally, he saw her studying a page in the journal intently and her heart began to race.

“Here,” she said quietly, but there was no victorious smile on her face. He took the journal from her and studied the page she had pointed to. “Found a mention in the Catalan’s notes.”

“Let me see,” he said as he read the pages from the old book, reading about the young priest the father had met and how they compared journal notes on the journey up the California coast. It was consistent with the diary his client had acquired. It gave him a name and a year. It was as much as he could hope for from the Huntington collection.

“Guess I found your provenance,” Beatrice said.

His eyes raked over her face. “I always knew you would.”

Beatrice thrust her hip back, tossing her sparring partner over her shoulder. The large man hit the floor with a loud slap, and she straightened with a grunt as her sensei smiled from across the mat. She held a hand out to her partner to help him up. They bowed to each other and shook hands as they finished the freestyle judo practice.

Pete called out, “B, you are on a roll today! What’s gotten into you? Very nice randori, both of you. Very nice.” The wiry, grey-haired man strode across the mat and shook both Beatrice and her partner’s hands before all three walked to the lockers near the free weights. “B, you still have one of the strongest harai goshi I’ve seen. I know you were dissatisfied with your last teacher, but your forms are really strong.”