Page 22 of Fangs, Frost, and Folios
“One thing to know about the rare book world is that it’s all about reputation,” Beatrice said. “Which is an area you might have trouble with.”
“Perhaps.” René narrowed his eyes. “And Giovanni?”
“Always works through intermediaries,” she said. “Like this associate in London. The play will have to be authenticated. Provenance documented. It’s not a matter of showing up with an old pile of paper and expecting it to be taken seriously. Even if we find it, there will be scholars who will make their careers on proving or disproving its authenticity.”
René’s smile grew. “So much controversy. Delicious.”
“Delicious maybe, but it can be costly too.” She pushed past him. “Let’s get to work. The play we’re looking for is calledThe Alchemist. It’ll probably be grouped with other plays. Look for something likeThe Works of Ben Jonson. It’ll probably be a volume like that. Any age is possible.”
“And when will Giovanni return?”
She reached a section that appeared to contain miscellaneous Renaissance playwrights and started to take out volumes and set them on the table. “Tomorrow night maybe. Probably the next night. It’s a few hours’ drive to London, and this man might not be able to meet tonight; he’s eighty-five.”
“Your husband does like to mingle with the elderly, doesn’t he?” René dragged a rolling ladder over and climbed up the bookcase.
“Giovanni may look like a Roman god in his prime, but he’s over five hundred years old.” She found another bound edition and pulled it. “From his perspective, eighty-five is hanging out with the youths.”
It was another stormy night in Los Angeles, and by stormy, Ben absolutely was thinking of his twelve-year-old sister and her moods.
Sadia huffed out of the room, clutching her phone and furiously texting with… someone.
“Who?” He turned to Zain, the house manager and cook, who was clearing dishes from dinner. “Who does she text? Why is she angry? What did I do?”
Zain tried to hide his smile, but it was unmistakable. “Probably Kaya, her best bestie who’s the only other kid in her class who has vampire parents.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good. When I was in school, I was the only one who— Never mind that. What is she so pissed off about? What did I do?”
“I believe you asked her to clear her plate.”
“The horror.” Ben blinked. “Was that unreasonable somehow?”
“She was already going to do that.” Zain looked at the three empty water glasses on the end of the counter. “Obviously.”
“Oh my God.” Ben was starting to get exasperated. He didn’t think he was old. Was he old? He knew he didn’t look a day over twenty-nine, but maybe he was old? “Wait, am I old?”
“To her?” Zain nodded. “We’re all old. We’re all out of touch. None of us understand her, and we’re all unreasonable.”
“I’m her big brother, not her dad.”
Zain shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”
Ben rubbed his hands through his hair, yanking at the roots. “I don’t know how Gio and B handle this. Every night?”
“Every night. Every day.” Zain dropped his voice. “Things are… volatile. That’s all I’ll say.”
Tenzin floated into the room carrying Isadora in her arms. “She wanted to.”
Isadora’s face was lit up like a Christmas light. “No wonder Sadia loved flying so much when she was young.”
Ben couldn’t help but picture Isadora flipping in the air and the sound of a cracked hip. “Tiny—”
“It’s fine.” Tenzin gently placed Isadora at the end of the table on the cushion that was placed there especially for her. “She’s fine, Ben. Sadia is right; youareold.”
He kicked out and knocked the back of her knee. “Take it back.”
She winked at him. “You can prove her wrong later when we’re alone. I know why Sadia is emotionally unstable.”
Zain walked over to bring Isadora a small plate. “Because she’s twelve?”
