Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
A Look Ahead
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A Fall of Water:
An Elemental Mystery
By Elizabeth Hunter
A Fall of Water
Copyright © 2012
by Elizabeth Hunter
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Flash in the Can Productions
Edited by: Amy Eye
Formatted by: Amy Eye
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
For information about the Elemental Mysteries series, please visit:
ElementalMysteries.com
Other books by Elizabeth Hunter:
The Elemental Mysteries:
A HIDDEN FIRE
THIS SAME EARTH
THE FORCE OF WIND
Contemporary Romance
THE GENIUS AND THE MUSE
For my son
May you love life
and be more than happy;
may you be good.
May your stories bring you joy
and your heart find peace.
I am blessed beyond measure
to be called your mother.
“Close your eyes, hold your breath…
And always trust your cape.”
The fall of dropping water wears away the stone.
—Lucretius
Prologue
Cochamó Valley, Chile
2011
January
“What’s that?”
Giovanni winked over his shoulder as he backed into the living room. “Another bookcase.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes as Gustavo stumbled into the room. “Ha ha. Funny, it sure looks like a piano.”
“And not one that was easy to get here,” Gustavo said.
“Gio, why did you bring a piano to the house?”
“Because we’re going to be here for at least a year, and I like the piano.”
She shrugged and turned back to the fire and her book.
“And I thought maybe you would like to learn, too.”
She glanced over at the two vampires. “I’m not very musical.”
“I know,” Gustavo said. “I’ve heard you hum.”
“Hey!” She tossed a pillow at him, but he only laughed as he and Giovanni maneuvered the piano into a corner of the living room near the bookcases. It was a small upright, shiny black, and blended nicely with the dark wood and wrought iron, which decorated their mountain home. Much smaller than Giovanni’s grand piano at their house in Los Angeles, she knew he would enjoy playing it just as much.
Beatrice heard footsteps crossing the meadow and rose to meet the visitor at the door. It was Isabel, carrying the bench for the piano.
“They forgot this!” she called as she climbed the steps. “I’m amazed it all made it into the valley in one piece.”
Gustavo walked over and took the bench from her. “We didn’t forget it, woman. We may have inhuman strength, but we still only have two hands apiece.”
Isabel sat next to Beatrice and put her arm around the younger woman. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since Christmas.”
“Fine.” She nodded. “Good. I’ve been doing a lot of reading.”
“Ben’s doing well. He and Father are thick as thieves.”
Beatrice smiled. “Well, that’s not a surprise. They’re about the same age, mentally.”
Isabel’s laugh pealed out and Beatrice saw Gustavo look up, watching his wife with a small smile as he helped Giovanni.
“You’re right, you know; you missed the wrestling match. I’ve never... I don’t think there are words to describe that scene.”
“I was sorry to miss it, but I didn’t want to spoil Ben’s fun by, you know, draining him or something.”
Isabel nodded. “Good point. Nice of you to be so thoughtful.”
“I try.”
Isabel raised a knowing eyebrow. “Really?”
Beatrice took a deep breath and swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat. “I’m... trying.”
Isabel leaned over and squeezed her shoulders in a quick hug before she rose from the couch. “I’ll see you later. If you want a break from this one”—she pointed at Giovanni—“just use the radio.”
“Thanks.”
Giovanni scowled at Isabel. “Why would she want a break from me?”
Beatrice snickered as Isabel gave him a dry look, then pulled Gustavo out the door, muttering under her breath about “stubborn, donkey men.”
Giovanni sat next to her on the couch, tossing more flames toward the dwindling fire, even though it was summer. He frowned and looked into the bright flames, which lit the dim cabin. “So, you really don’t have any interest in learning the piano?”
Beatrice leaned into his shoulder and shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not musical.”
February
“I’m sick of you!” Beatrice threw a copy of Moby Dick at Giovanni.
He caught it and slammed it on the coffee table, wincing at the crack of wood underneath the book. “It’s a good thing that was a mass market edition, woman! And I’m not particularly thrilled with you right now, either.”
She stalked toward him, shoving a finger in his chest. He could see her fangs descended in anger and feel her heart racing. “You know, at least you’re not stuck up in this cabin, miles away from any other person. I can’t even visit most of them because I’d probably end up drinking them for dinner! Add to that, I’m awake in here all day with nothing to do but read. You, at least, get to sleep for longer than a few hours!”
Giovanni stepped closer, ignoring Carwyn, who stared at them from the couch with wide eyes. “At least I don’t blame you for things that are entirely out of my control, Beatrice. It’s not my fault that you’re awake mos
t of the day.”
“You don’t even try to stay awake.”
His mouth gaped. “You’re being completely irrational right now. I refuse to continue this discussion—”
“Don’t you use the professor voice on me!”
Giovanni saw Carwyn sneaking toward the door. “I’m just—” the priest stammered, “I’ll be...” He slipped out and they paused, waiting for the sound of their friend escaping through the forest.
Giovanni waited for only a moment before he grabbed Beatrice, lifting her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Nicely done, Tesoro,” he murmured as his lips devoured the skin along her neck.
Her hands were already ripping his shirt. “I thought he was never going to leave.”
“Mmm.” He growled as she nipped at his collarbone. “Why is it so sexy when you yell at me?” They stumbled toward the bedroom and Giovanni nudged the door closed with his hip.
“Probably”—she panted as Giovanni tore her shirt down the front—“the same reason I find the professor voice strangely hot.”
“Let’s not question it, shall we?”
March
She sat alone on the porch, staring into the clear night sky. Carwyn had gone back to Isabel and Gustavo’s house to watch a movie with Ben, so Beatrice sat, holding the printout of the e-mail from Giovanni in London.
Six more days.
It was the longest they had ever been apart since he had returned to her. Three weeks. Considering they could be together for hundreds, if not thousands of years, Beatrice knew she should probably be grateful for the solitude.
Six more days.
She sensed Isabel coming through the trees. Even though they could move swiftly, it was considered rude to just appear at someone’s doorstep in the quiet valley commune. So even vampires usually approached at human speed unless there was an emergency, or they were expected.
Isabel said not a word as she sat next to Beatrice on the carved wooden bench that Gustavo had made for them as a wedding present.
“Deirdre and Ioan used to separate for months at a time when they were first together... well, after the first fifty years or so. They were both so independent. They once went a year and a half apart, totally by choice, just sending letters to each other. Ioan was at our brother’s castle in Scotland and Deirdre was on some island in the North Sea.”
“Really?” If Isabel intended her words to be some strange comfort, she wasn’t successful. Beatrice felt even more feeble thinking about Deirdre and Ioan’s resilient marriage.
“My Gustavo and I though...” Isabel smiled to herself. “We can’t be without each other that long. It just doesn’t suit us. He is my other half. I went a month without him once and almost went insane. I snapped at everyone. I was so cross.”
Beatrice gripped Isabel’s hand. “Thanks.”
“It doesn’t make us weak to need them.”
“No?”
Isabel looked over with a smile. “If your right hand was lame, wouldn’t your left miss its mate? You might get along without it, but you’d always be aware that something was missing. That’s natural, not weak.”
“I’m not used...” Beatrice struggled to articulate what had been bothering her for months. “I just feel so tied to him. And to my...”
“Your father. You miss the tie to your father.”
“Yes,” she whispered, blinking back tears. “I mean, even more than when I thought he had died when I was a girl. There’s just this big, empty void in my chest. When Giovanni’s here, it helps. Especially when we—” She broke off, suddenly reluctant to continue.
Isabel chuckled. “No need to be embarrassed. When you exchange blood, it’s very intimate. It’s a tie of another sort, and one that will eventually surpass the tie you felt with your father. It’s natural. And it’s natural that you feel this void from your father’s loss.” She put an arm around Beatrice’s shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. “If I even think about losing Father... It’s too horrible to contemplate. And I was sired over five hundred years ago. For you? You were a newborn when he was lost, his blood still fresh in your veins. I cannot imagine it, Beatrice. You should never feel weak. I believe you are one of the strongest young women I have had the privilege of knowing.”
Beatrice sniffed. “So I’m not a big baby for missing my dad like this? Some days, I feel like I barely want to leave my room. And then when Giovanni left... Honestly, if Carwyn would leave me alone more, I would curl up under the covers and never come out.”
“And that is why he pesters you so much.”
She snorted. “Yeah, I kind of figured.”
“You are loved, Beatrice De Novo. By so many. On your darkest days, don’t forget that.”
April
He woke in their bed, alone; her sheets were not even rumpled.
“Beatrice?”
There was no answer. He raced out to the living room, where all the windows had been blacked out and covered by curtains so she could have the freedom of the house during the daylight hours.
“Beatrice?”
She was sitting by the fire, staring into it with blank eyes. There was an open textbook on her lap.
“Tesoro?”
She finally blinked and turned to him.
He walked toward her slowly. “Did you sleep at all today? Have you been reading this whole time?”
Beatrice looked down to the book on her lap, then over at Giovanni, who sat down beside her.
“I can read Greek now.” His heart sank when he saw the lost look she wore. “Do you think he knows?”
Giovanni reached over and closed the book, taking both her hands in his before he pulled her onto his lap. “Yes.”
May
He teased her as she stood in the kitchen, warming the blood before she drank.
“Come outside. Swim with me. We’ll go to the waterfall.” He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nipping at the hollow behind her earlobe.
She shrugged as she stirred the blood. “It’s getting cold now.”
“So I’ll heat up the pool. You’re married to a fire vampire; take advantage of me however you like. I’ll make it a hot tub if that’s what you want. Just come swimming. Go running. Leave the house.”
“Gio, you’re acting like I’m a hermit or something. I’ve just got a lot to read right now and I’m working on my Persian so I can read the journals, and—”
“And you haven’t left the house in a week.”
She frowned. “It hasn’t... it’s only been a couple of days.” Hadn’t it?
He turned her around so she was facing him. “The last night you left the house was the night Carwyn had to leave, and that was over a week ago.”
Beatrice took a drink of the blood. It wasn’t as fresh as she liked it, but they had to order blood from Puerto Montt or drink pig’s blood, so she was willing to put up with the stale taste if it meant no pigs. “Fine. I’ll go swimming.”
Giovanni cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so excited.”
She mustered up a giant, fake grin and plastered it on her face. “There,” she said through gritted teeth, “see how excited I am?”
He narrowed his eyes, then pinched her waist and stuck his tongue out in her direction. Her jaw dropped. “Did you just stick your tongue out at me?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”
She only looked at him, confused, before she burst into laughter. Beatrice laughed and laughed, bending over as bloody tears came to her eyes. She heard Giovanni chuckle a little, but knew he was only laughing at her own amusement.
It was the loudest she had laughed in months.
June
“Have you bitten anyone yet?”
She cleared her throat. Well, Ben, just your uncle, but you really don’t need to know about that, do you? Beatrice took a pencil, pressing on the button on the front of the radio phone to reply. “Nope. I’m clean so far.”
“Good.” She heard Ben rep
ly. “Just remember, if you do need to drain someone, make sure it’s someone really evil or really annoying. Or my geometry teacher, though that would be a pretty long way to travel for a meal.”
“Got it. And, of course, there’s the whole ‘killing an innocent human being’ thing, too.”
“Oh, he’s not innocent; he gives pop quizzes.”
Beatrice laughed. “Ben, I’m not going to kill your math teacher.”
“I’m just saying, when we get home, keep it in mind. I’m pretty sure no one would miss him.”
“Right.” She played with the edge of her book, trying not to notice Giovanni hovering in the corner. He wore a small, satisfied smirk that she was interacting with the outside world again. “So, how’s school? How’s everything going?”
“Can Gio hear us?”
She muffled a laugh and pressed the respond button again. “Yes.”
“Oh, well then, it’s going magnificently. I’m so fortunate to have a knowledgeable and patient teacher like my uncle, who is imparting his centuries of wisdom into my eager young mind.”
Beatrice was rolling on the couch, laughing, when Giovanni walked over and pressed the respond button. “Tell me more, oh eager young nephew, who will be translating an extra passage of Virgil tomorrow afternoon.”
“Dude!” Ben protested. “Gio, that’s not cool. Hear her laughing? When was the last time you made her laugh like that?”
Giovanni cocked his head at Beatrice and let an evil grin cross his face.
Beatrice stopped laughing and leaped on him. “You better not!” she hissed as they tumbled to the floor, breaking one of the dining room chairs as they rolled.
“Whatever could you be talking about?” He laughed as he trapped her legs between his own and rolled on top of her. “I was simply going to tell him how much you like it when I—”