Giovanni smirked as she placed her cheek over his heart. “That’s the spirit of competition, my bloodthirsty girl.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, rocking in the cool night air.

“Man, I am glad you’re here,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m exhausted.”

“You are extraordinary. I saw you disarm that man. You didn’t even need me there.”

He felt her smile. “The librarian finally kicked some ass, didn’t she?”

“She most certainly did. And I’m sure you’ve made Terry and Gemma quite proud.” He winked when she looked up.

“And you?”

He shrugged. “I’ve always been proud of you. I always knew you were extraordinary.”

She smiled and relaxed back into his chest. “I slipped and called Lorenzo by his human name. He knows you’ve told me about your life.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Why did you tell me? Why?” She almost looked a little angry. “You knew I would be vulnerable to any vampire who got his hands on me. Why did you tell me?”

He simply smiled. “Because you asked.”

“What?” She looked up at him, blinking as the wind made her eyes tear up again.

He leaned down and brushed at the tears. “I told you. I can’t deny you anything. You asked. I answered. I like that you know. It’s good to be known.”

She pressed her hands to his cheeks and looked into his eyes. “You should take the memories away so you’ll be safer. I never want to—”

He stopped her with a hard kiss. “Not in a thousand years.”

Beatrice stroked his cheeks and let her fingers trail to the back of his neck where she played with the singed ends of his hair.

“I love you, Jacopo.”

He blinked, wondering whether he had imagined it.

“What?”

She placed her hands back on his cheeks. “I love you, Jacopo…Giovanni…whatever name you choose in a hundred years…or two hundred. I’ll love you then, too. Ubi amo, ibi patria. Where I love, there is my home. You…” She blinked back tears and gave him a smile. “You are my home.”

Giovanni was speechless, so he crushed her to his chest. He held Beatrice for a few moments before pulling away so he could kiss her. He kissed her over and over again, nipping at soft, swollen lips as his heart pounded. “I love you,” he whispered. “Per sempre. Forever.”

“I love you, too. I never really stopped. I can just admit it now.”

He broke into a low chuckle that turned into a full laugh. He was happy. More. Joyful. She loved him. He kissed her again.

“I really wish we didn’t have an audience right now,” she finally said when they came up for air.

Giovanni tucked her head under his chin. “Someday, woman, I will have you to myself.”

“We need to get away, just us. Soon. But right now…” She hugged him close. “We have a crew to interrogate and strategy to plan. We still need to murder Lorenzo and find my dad, remember?”

“Somehow, you are not any less sexy as you say this, Beatrice,” he said with a smirk. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, let’s go interrogate some Spanish sailors.”

“Darling girl,” Carwyn walked over and embraced her. “Gemma says you disarmed a six foot man. If I promise not to make you watch wrestling anymore, will you promise not to hurt me?”

She punched Carwyn’s side and smiled. “Very funny, old man.”

“That’ll teach you to run from your bodyguard next time you visit,” Terry muttered. “I had to keep your man there from turning the poor sod into a pile of ash last night.”

“I’ll remember. Thanks to you both, by the way,” she said, nodding at Gemma and Terry. “Thanks for beating me up, Gemma. Humans have nothing on you.”

“What do you Americans say? ‘It was a tough job, but someone had to do it?’”

“Right.” Beatrice said and rolled her eyes.

“You should keep that gun, by the way. It’s a nice piece,” Terry said, nodding to the nine millimeter handgun tucked into her waistband. “Your first spoils of war, B.”

“That is a good weapon,” Giovanni’s eyes narrowed. “Why does a Spanish sailor have an H&K?”

“Well, while some of us…” Carwyn waggled his eyebrows at the two of them. “Were snogging on the deck, others were questioning what was left of the crew. None knew anything about your son, of course.”

“It seems like they took Lorenzo and his people on in Rotterdam, but they didn’t really know what they were getting into,” Gemma added. “Lorenzo was directing the captain off his usual route. London was not a scheduled stop, so thank God for Tywyll’s informants, whoever they are.”

“Where does that little bastard get his information?” Terry muttered.

Carwyn shrugged. “From looking at the ship’s records, it looks like they were headed to North Africa. The details are a bit fuzzy, but Lorenzo outfitted the crew with weapons, probably thinking he could use them as fodder if he was threatened.”

Giovanni looked between Carwyn and Terry. “Then why is he not here? What tipped him off?”

“Well.” Terry glanced at the French humans. “It’s more likely ‘Who?’ is the better question.”