Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

“Somebody appears to be in the water, Signora.”


The tight fist of fear gripped her, and before she knew it, she divested herself of the cloak that kept the chill of the night air from her body and dropped it onto the seat next to her. “A child?”

“No, larger. A man.”

A sense of déjà vu struck her, her heart reminding her of her own loss. Without hesitation, she undid the laces of her bodice, then felt Adolfo’s hand on her shoulder.

“No, Signora, he’ll be too heavy for you. You can’t rescue a man. A child, yes, but not a grown man.”

Isabella turned to him. She wouldn’t be deterred by his concern. He had to understand that she had to do this so no other woman would feel the pain she had to endure. So no other woman would become a widow like she had. “I can’t let anybody drown, you know that.”

He nodded and, despite the darkness, she knew his expression would be sad. But he wouldn’t stop her. Her own husband, a wealthy merchant, had drowned in one of the canals less than a year ago. The money he’d left her did nothing to appease her loneliness.

As she stripped off her richly embroidered gown and dropped the petticoats to the bottom of the gondola, the cold February air blew through her chemise. But all she could think of was the man whose hands were the only things now visible above the water as if he was trying to hold onto some invisible rope. If she could save him, maybe she would finally be at peace and accept what had happened. Accept Giovanni’s death.

“Hold on,” Isabella begged, “just hold on a few more seconds.” She prayed she wouldn’t be too late.

“I will help you,” Adolfo’s voice came from behind.

She shook her head. Just because she needed to do this foolish thing didn’t mean she would endanger her loyal servant. “No. You can’t swim.”

As he pulled the boat alongside the drowning man, Adolfo released his oar and stepped behind her. A moment later, she felt his hands on her.

“What?” Was he trying to stop her after all?

“A rope. I’ll tie it around you.”

He expertly tied a rope around her waist while she scanned the dark waters for the man. His hands were gone. He’d slipped under the water. Only ripples remained on the surface. “Hurry.”

“Ready.”

Without a glance back, she jumped into the canal, feet first. The icy cold water hit her like a slap in the face. She held her breath and let herself be pulled into the depths of the canal’s murky waters. She felt the pull on the rope and knew Adolfo would make sure she was safe.

Isabella didn’t open her eyes—there was no use. All it would do was hurt her, but she wouldn’t see anything. It was too dark. Even by daylight, there was little chance that her eyes would be of any assistance in her search for the drowning man.

She kicked her legs and reached her hands out, feeling for resistance. Nothing. Frantically she dove deeper, turned to her left, then her right, stretching her arms out further. Finally, her fingers encountered some material. She grasped for it, her hand latching onto a piece of fabric, a coattail or a sleeve. The soaked woolen cloth was heavy. She pulled on it, and to her relief, the weight behind it confirmed that she had found him.

The pressure in her lungs built. She fought against her body’s instinct to come up for air, knowing if she dropped her hold on him and gave into her own need for air, he would be lost.

Isabella slipped one hand under the man’s armpit. He was heavy despite the buoyant quality of the water, heavier than she had expected. Gathering her remaining strength, she signaled Adolfo with a pull on the rope. She had just enough time to hook her second arm under the drowning victim’s and kick her legs before she felt herself being pulled upwards. The man in her arms was big. His massive body pressed against her, her arms barely reaching around his chest.

The moment she breached the surface, she sucked in a much needed breath of air, filling her lungs. The cold stung her chest, but she ignored it, just the way she ignored the dead weight of the man she was holding in her arms. Was he still alive?

“You were so long,” she heard Adolfo proclaim, his voice more tense than usual.

“He’s so heavy,” Isabella pressed out and tried to paddle toward the boat. But all she could do was hold onto the man and let Adolfo do the hard work. She figured a few extra Lira was due Adolfo as a bonus after this ordeal.

As her gondolier pulled on the rope, she felt the stranger slip from her grip. Without thinking, she spread her legs and wrapped them around his hips to hold him in a vice grip. It wasn’t ladylike, nor was it anywhere near appropriate, but the man was unconscious and certainly wouldn’t remember what she’d done.