“Will you remember all the books? Should we make a list?”

“I’ll remember.”

“Okay,” she said before she paused. “Let’s go then. There’s nothing here.”

She sat with her back against a chair as Giovanni pulled out the stacks of composition books. She didn’t stop to count them as she dried the last of her tears and piled them by the door along with the few personal items she’d found in the bedroom and small bath.

“Tesoro, look at this.”

She glanced over to see Giovanni standing over the same blue atlas that they’d used to play the string game sitting out on the small cafe table near the kitchen.

“Where was that?”

“Behind the notebooks. Tucked against the wall.”

She looked at his raised eyebrow and then back to the book.

“There’s something in there.”

“I believe you’re right.”

Beatrice walked over to the table and started paging through the atlas in front of her. She grew progressively more frustrated with each map she turned, only to find it devoid of any clue to Stephen’s whereabouts. Finally, she felt Giovanni’s hand still her own.

“Let me. I have an idea.”

“Fine,” she muttered, ready to leave the small, empty cottage and go home. He opened to the large map at the center and pointed to Greece.

“He has already studied the roots of alchemy.” His finger slid east. “And he told Tywyll the manuscript he took from Lorenzo was Persian.”

He looked at her, locking eyes for a moment before she heard his finger move across the page again. This time, it slid farther east, through the heart of the Middle East, past northern India, and over to the far edge of China.

“He had books about Asian alchemic traditions and study, and another that related to Bön. I know of one vampire who is revered for his knowledge of both.”

“One vampire? You think my father would have looked for him? Who? Where?”

He frowned and flipped to the page showing a larger map of the Northern Chinese coast and pointed to a small gulf east of Beijing. She leaned down to look closer and her mouth fell open when she saw a lone pinprick in the center of the Bohai Sea.

“What is that?” she whispered.

He stared at her for a moment before he looked back to the atlas Stephen had left for them to find.

“That, tesoro, is Mount Penglai. That is the residence of the Eight Immortals.”

“Who?”

He sighed and closed the atlas.

“Tenzin is going to kill me.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Houston, Texas

May 2010

“Caspar, do you take Isadora to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

Giovanni felt his heart give a quiet thump as Caspar and Isadora exchanged the vows they had chosen for their ceremony. As it turned out, it was Stephen’s presence the two had been waiting for, but when Beatrice and he had returned from Brasilia and given them the news that Stephen remained out of reach, Isadora had nodded in understanding and called her friend Marta’s husband to perform the simple ceremony.

Judge Voorhies stood in the beautifully lit gardens of the house in River Oaks, standing under the gazebo with the bride and groom as a few of their closest friends watched the early evening ceremony.

Caspar wore his best charcoal grey suit, and Isadora looked stunning in a deep green dress that set off her beautiful eyes and silver-white hair. He glanced to his side to see Beatrice watching them both with a smile. She squeezed his hand, and he smiled before drawing her closer and kissing her temple. His eyes returned to the bride and groom in the garden. To say he was pleased for his old friend would be an understatement.

After a few more heartfelt words, Isadora and Caspar turned to the group with a smile.

“Caspar and Isadora chose a short reading from the Song of Songs, chapter four. ‘You have stolen my heart, my darling, my bride; you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace ...”

Giovanni leaned down, whispering the same sweet words into Beatrice’s ear in soft Italian.

“I still don’t speak Italian,” she whispered.

He only smirked. “You will.”

“‘How delightful is your love, my darling, my bride, how much more pleasing is your love than wine,’” the judge continued. “And I think we all know, as much as Caspar loves wine, what a truly bold statement that is.”

Giovanni smiled as their friends laughed around them and Isadora and Caspar met each other with a sweet kiss. The judge pronounced them husband and wife. Giovanni and Beatrice smiled, Ben gave a little whoop, and the group clapped before going inside to share a meal.

Ben raced in circles, almost knocking Beatrice over in his enthusiasm. The boy had been ecstatic to see them both when they returned from South America, though he’d tried to play it off nonchalantly. He was bouncing with excitement and chattering nonstop about getting back home. Giovanni realized it was going to be a rather complicated discussion.

He was almost sure that Stephen had gone to China. The more he and Beatrice studied the journals the vampire had left behind, the more he became convinced that Stephen had sought the help of one far more ancient. The knowledge was both a comfort and a concern.

He was also growing more certain that Lorenzo had somehow discovered Stephen’s plan. All indications from Jean Desmarais and his contacts seemed to indicate that the vampire was heading to the Far East. He was brought back to the present by Beatrice’s arm around his waist.