“I spent a lot of time in the monastery and praying in the chapel, trying to figure out what had happened. I’d always had a good memory. I’d always been strong. I felt so weak, so powerless.
“One night I climbed to the top of a nearby hill.” William cleared his throat. “It was the same hill where the Roman found me.
“I was there for some time, trying to figure out what to do. That’s when everything flashed before me. I fell to my knees, overwhelmed by my memories. I remembered the Roman and my transformation. I remembered traveling to Florence and deposing the old prince. I remembered you.”#p#分页标题#e#
He brushed Raven’s knuckles with his thumb. “As soon as I remembered you, I wanted to leave. I’d made arrangements before Machiavelli’s coup for you to have safe passage out of the city. I chose Prague because I thought it would be the safest place, away from vampyres and Curia alike. But even though I paid Sarah’s network well, I was worried they’d failed. What if the Curia had you? What if they’d already erased your memories? I had to find you.
“I had nothing—no passport, no money. I went to the brothers and explained that my memory had returned. I was a businessman, I was married, and I urgently needed to get to Geneva so I could locate you.”
“You lied?” Raven poked him in the side.
“You and I pledged ourselves to one another—first on the Loggia some months ago and again in the Duomo.” He thumbed the ring she wore on her left hand. “We are married.”
“Agreed.” She lifted his hand and kissed the skin above his gold band. “What did the Dominicans say?”
“I think some of them continued to believe I was disturbed. Or they thought I was deceiving them. But the others believed me, and they secured a train ticket to Geneva and gave me money to travel. I didn’t have a passport, but the Swiss rarely check passports at the border with Italy. I took the night train and made my way here.” William exhaled loudly. “You know the rest.”
Raven leaned her head against his shoulder. “How do you feel now?”
“Different.” William passed a hand over his eyes. “I’m still adjusting to this body. It’s strange to feel my heart beat regularly. It’s strange to have to breathe. I have memories of my human life, long ago, as well as memories of when I was a vampyre. Sometimes I get mixed up.”
“You don’t feel the urge to drink blood? Or climb the sides of buildings?”
William pressed his lips to her temple. “No. The first human food I craved was roast venison. I still haven’t had it yet. The Dominicans seem to subsist on fish and chicken.”
Raven pondered his words as the warmth of his body radiated to hers.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t believe me?” William’s face was stricken.
“I believe you, but it’s hard for me to balance what I know about the world with what you’ve just described. I don’t believe in God or an afterlife. But I’ve seen things, strange things I can’t explain. I don’t understand the whirlwind we saw in the Duomo. I don’t understand how I could watch you die as a vampyre and now you’re sitting next to me, alive and human.
“I’m going to hold on to this.” She clutched his arm with both hands. “You are here with me. You are human, and you are alive. For the moment, at least, we are safe. I’m not going to bend myself out of shape trying to figure out how we got here. I would like to know why—why you and why me.”
She lifted a shoulder. “But human beings don’t know everything. Perhaps that’s best.”
Chapter Sixty-Five
Three years later
Hope Island, near Bora Bora
RAVEN SAT ON THE COVERED TERRACE of their villa, painting a vista of the island. The breeze blew her long, black hair around her face, forcing her to tie it back.
From her current vantage point, she could see part of the white sandy beach. A figure appeared, jogging barefoot across the pristine sand.
The figure seemed to search for her as he jogged. He waved.
She waved back.
Her husband continued his jog and disappeared from view.#p#分页标题#e#
She turned to look inside the house, through the enormous space where the side walls had been retracted. Beautiful paintings hung in the living room and beyond, in their bedroom.
The architecture and design of French Polynesia was at odds with the style of the Italian Renaissance, but she didn’t care. This was their home. Their refuge. Their sanctuary.
The few original works of their collection they’d had shipped to the island were protected in a closed room that had carefully controlled light, temperature, and humidity. Both Raven and William enjoyed visiting the private galley that included paintings by Michelangelo and Botticelli, among others.