Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

Lorenzo edged forward on his chair. “Let me have it.”


“I haven’t met a woman yet who won’t forgive a little sin like yours as long as the reward is big enough.”

“Reward?”

Nico nodded. Then his gaze swept to his left hand, his right index finger pointing at the forth finger of it. “Yes, reward. And don’t tell me the thought hasn’t crossed your mind yet.”

Indeed, the thought had crossed his mind.





Chapter Nineteen




Bianca tossed and turned. Vaguely, she registered that at some time during the wee hours before sunrise, Lorenzo had returned from visiting a friend and joined her in bed. He slept soundly now, but her own sleep was agitated. Her dreams tormented her.

Scenes from her time in Florence flitted across her mind, reminding her of what she didn’t want to go back to. Pictures of her former lovers mingled with those of the suitors her father had entertained, laughing at her now that she was a fallen woman. All of Venice knew. She found herself on the streets, her dress torn, walking across Piazza San Marco barefoot and with not a lira to her name. The people she passed turned away from her. But their whispered words carried to her nevertheless.

A whore.

Her lover found out and tossed her out on the street where she belongs.

She lied to him.

It’s an open secret.

All for a treasure that was hidden in plain view.

Bathed in sweat, Bianca woke with a start. Her chest heaved with the effort to breathe. She glanced at Lorenzo, hoping she hadn’t talked in her sleep. But he was sound asleep, the reflection of the flames from the low fire dancing on his skin.

As quietly as she could, she slid out of bed and walked to the sideboard which held a pitcher of water. She poured herself a glass and gulped it down, trying to cool her heated body.

She couldn’t go on like this. She had to tell him about her past and why she was here. Maybe he would forgive her for her deception. If he truly loved her the way he showed her every time he drank her blood, maybe he could find it in his heart to forgive her.

Bianca took a tentative step toward the bed. The fire behind her threw bizarre shadows over Lorenzo’s body and the headboard behind him. As she walked closer, the shadows shifted and moved, pulling her gaze to the intricate carving on the wooden headboard. She stared at it, her eyes suddenly focusing in on the delicate workmanship.

Her heart stopped when she saw it. There, in large carved letters it was written: Tesoro. Treasure. Her feet carried her to the edge of the bed, but there was no mistake. The carving said treasure.

Bianca crawled onto the bed, careful not to disturb Lorenzo, and kneeled in front of the carving, letting her hands run over the letters. She’d felt them before when Lorenzo had tied her up, but she’d never paid them much attention. But now that she knew what they spelled out, she pressed against each letter, holding her breath. The last letter gave way and depressed. An instant later, a section of the carving not larger than a book sprang open like a little door.

Behind it was a dark space. This was where her father’s treasure had to be hidden.

Excitement coursed through her as she reached her hand inside, unable to see its contents for lack of proper lighting. Her fingertips brushed against a piece of paper. She pulled it from the small cave and held it up so the light from the fireplace fell onto it.

Disappointment swept over her when she looked at it closely: underneath a symbol of a cross with three horizontal waves, all that was written was a list of names. No treasure map, no instructions on where the real treasure was buried. She tossed the useless item onto the pillow next to her and reached into the hidden compartment once more.

Her hand encountered a small item made of metal. She pulled it out and perused it. It was a ring. But it wasn’t shiny nor did it hold a large precious stone. Instead, the ring was rather ugly, its black stone carrying the same symbol she had noticed on the paper she’d found. This wasn’t any treasure! It was a near worthless piece of jewelry, which didn’t even please her eye.

There had to be something else in the treasure trove. Could this really be all her father had left her? Had he sold the remainder and gambled the money away?

Disheartened, Bianca reached into the dark compartment and swept her hand systematically from left to right and top to bottom when her palm encountered a stick. She wrapped her hand around its smooth surface and brought it out into the light.