“Beatrice, you must get a picture of Giovanni for the girls!”
She scowled at her grandmother’s voice from the kitchen as she finished putting on her make-up for their night out. Isadora and her closest friends had kept a long-standing dinner engagement every Tuesday night for as long as she could remember. It used to be the time that Beatrice and her grandfather would spend in his workshop or watching old horror movies together, but since his death she had joined her grandmother for the weekly outings.
At first, it was simply so she wouldn’t feel the aching loss of her grandfather, but now she enjoyed the evenings with the interesting group of women.
“Grandma, I’m not going to ask my boss for a picture to show your friends. It’s embarrassing.”
“But he’s so handsome! Maybe with your phone camera?”
“No! That’s creepy. I don’t think he likes getting his picture taken anyway.”
Probably not a good idea when you’ve been around for over 500 years, she thought as she lined her eyes in black.
“Well, it’s very exciting. You must tell everyone about the thrilling book mysteries you’re helping to solve now.”
Beatrice snorted. “I’ve been searching online auction catalogues for a single document for almost a month, Grandma. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.”
“Still,” Isadora smiled as she walked into the bathroom to check her hair in the mirror. “The library sounds beautiful. Can you imagine how jealous your father would be? He’d be so proud of you.”
Beatrice fell silent as she thought about her father. She’d been reluctant to bring him up to Giovanni since the night she agreed to work for him, still unsure of what the vampire really wanted with her. Though she’d been reassured by meeting Caspar, she still had the uneasy feeling that there was a lot about Giovanni Vecchio she didn’t know.
And maybe a lot she didn’t want to know.
“Always be grateful for unexpected opportunities, Mariposa. You never know where a job like this might lead.” Isadora turned and patted her granddaughter’s cheek. “Imagine what exciting things might be in your future!”
Beatrice sighed. “It’s just a research job, Grandma. But it’s a good one, and I have no complaints about my boss. He’s demanding, but it’s not anything I didn’t sign up for.”
“You said he has an interesting friend visiting from overseas? Who is he? Is he a book dealer as well?”
She grinned when she thought of Carwyn. Since their meeting, the unusual priest had charmed her, although she didn’t know what to make of him at first. He looked like he had been turned in his thirties, but had the personality and humor of a teenager. He wore the ugliest Hawaiian shirts she had ever seen, but still seemed to attract more than his share of female attention when he and Giovanni had visited the library together.
He was as boisterous as Giovanni was taciturn, yet the friendly affection between them was obvious and she had started to see a slightly softer side to the aloof vampire.
“No, Carwyn’s not a book dealer; he’s a priest of some sort. He’s Welsh, I think. I guess he usually comes out this time of year. I think they’re working on a project together.”
“Well, that sounds lovely. It’s so nice to have friends with the same interests.”
Like drinking blood, avoiding electronic equipment, and staying out of sunlight so you don’t burn to a crisp, she mused silently as she pulled her long hair into a low ponytail.
She grabbed her purse and helped Isadora to the car. Her grandmother immediately began texting her friends that they were on their way and Beatrice took advantage of the silence to think about the past week.
The two vampires had been working on something they didn’t want anyone to know about; she was sure of it. Carwyn had come to the library with Giovanni the previous Wednesday, but they spent more time speaking in furtive whispers than they had transcribing characters for the mysterious Tenzin. When she went to the house on Thursday the odd mood had continued.
Even Caspar seemed out of the loop, and she had no idea what they would hide from someone they seemed to trust so much. Giovanni had been secretive before, and Carwyn’s appearance seemed to have done nothing but intensified his mood.
Their veiled references to their friend in China also caught her attention. She knew Tenzin was another immortal that had been friends with them for presumably hundreds of years, but anytime her name was mentioned an odd sense of foreboding fell over the two men.
“Oh, Beatrice, there it is!”
She brushed her concerns away when she spotted the small restaurant where her grandmother’s three closest friends were waiting outside. As she pulled into the parking lot, her grandmother waved like a school girl and Beatrice smiled, wondering for the thousandth time why she couldn’t be more like her grandmother when it came to making friends.
Beatrice hadn’t always been antisocial. When she was younger, she’d had lots of friends. Even after her father died, she’d been a happy child, wrapped in the comfort of her grandparents’ home. It wasn’t until the summer she had seen her father again that her social life began to collapse. It had never really recovered.
She tried to shove back the bitterness that reared its head when she thought about the cause of her depression. The self-destructive choices she’d made still haunted her at times. During that dark period, she mostly found solace in books. Never an avid reader before, she pulled herself out of depression by escaping into the other worlds books offered.