Page 162 of Dawn Caravan
“Mama, what’s wrong?” Sadia was hanging off his shoulders.“Voglio il gelato.”
Beatrice allowed herself to smile. “Nothing’s wrong, baby. Everything is good again.” She clapped her hands and reached for Sadia. “Stop climbing on your brother and get down. You’re a big girl, and your legs aren’t broken.” She took Sadia’s hand, helped her down, and they walked to the cremeria, which was brightly lit in the dark azure twilight.
* * *
Tenzin watchedBen and Beatrice as they chatted in line, waiting to buy ice cream for Sadia. Giovanni stood next to her, watching the evening crowd, from the elderly humans out for a stroll to the ancient vampire who sat on the wall bordering the Pantheon, trying to remain inconspicuous in the shadows of Rome.
“I can smell his amnis on you,” Giovanni said. “You’re nearly mated.”
“It’s too soon for that.”
“No, it’s really not.” Giovanni glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Does he understand what that means? Do you?”
“He’s not a child, Giovanni. Neither am I.”
“He’s my child.”
“He’s your son; he is not your child.” Tenzin watched Ben. She watched the strong, even line of his shoulders and the softness of his grip as he held Sadia’s hand in his. She watched Ben’s eyes as he measured the world around them, weighing every danger that might threaten the precious and vulnerable girl he’d claimed as his sister.
Mating was complicated. She had taken Stephen as a mate for political reasons. That blood bond had been planned and accounted for. It was never intended to be something permanent.
Would Ben want something permanent?
What had permanent ever meant to her? When life stretched into eternity, did creating permanent bonds make sense? The thought of taking a mate again, having her body and mind so entangled with another…
She wanted to be with Ben. Ben wanted to be with her. Did it have to be more complicated than that?
What they were was enough. For now.
Giovanni spoke softly. “My son looks peaceful.”
“He still has terrible moments,” Tenzin said. “But know that I will end any human or vampire who threatens his peace.”
“He wouldn’t want you to.”
“That’s why he is who he is, and I am who I am.” Tenzin looked at Giovanni. “He is a good man. And a better immortal than either of us.”
Giovanni smiled. “My sire spent years trying to mold me into the perfect vampire, the most excellent and ideal specimen of immortal life. Philosopher, warrior, scholar, poet, artist.” He looked at Tenzin. “And five hundred years after he failed, a street child picked my pocket and became the man I could never be.”
“He made himself,” Tenzin said. “But you made that easier.”
“You’re right.” Giovanni looked at his son. “He is better than either of us.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Tenzin patted his shoulder. “You’re really an excellent librarian.”
Ben looked over his shoulder when Giovanni burst into laughter. His eyes met Tenzin’s and held.
Philosopher. Warrior. Scholar. Poet. Artist.
If Benjamin Vecchio’s canvas was the people he loved, then he was already a master.
This is why he is necessary.
He was still learning. She was still growing into her next life.
One day we will be infinite.
Epilogue
