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Iliaria watched me, her features drawn.  Do not come to me only because your Queen thinks it a
good idea. I do not enjoy being toyed with.
 I m not toying with you, Iliaria, and I m not coming to you because Renata bid me do so.
 Then why? she asked, searching my face.
 Because I want to, I said.  Because I know the unfriendly look you gave Renata is only a mask to
hide the pain and longing that you feel.
 Then you come to me out of pity.
I bit back a sound of frustration.  This is a delicate dance, I said,  trying to please you as well as
my Queen. You are only making this more difficult for me. Iliaria, I love Renata. I ve been in love with
her for two hundred years. You can t make that go away. It s not going to go away. A mark does not erase
it. But just because I love her does not mean that I will overlook you. It does not mean that I do not care
about how you feel.
She directed her attention to some vague point in the room. I went to her, touching her cheek with the
tips of my fingers.
 Will you one day love me as you do your Queen? she asked.
 I do not know, I said, for it was true. Who can say who we will love and who we will not love
when love itself is often not a conscious decision?  If I told you I would, it would be a lie, for I cannot
know, nor can I foresee the future. But I can tell you that I care and I will always try to be considerate.
 And how many others do you care for? she asked.
 I care for those sitting in this room.
 Epiphany is not casual with her affection, Vasco said,  if that s what you re trying to understand.
Iliaria looked past me to him. What she thought, I could not say. Her eyes flicked back to me.  I
would not have you come to my lap like a pet dog.
I was about to reply when Renata s laughter spilled like slow honey into the room.
 If you think I leash her and parade her about the Sotto, you are mistaken, she said, and I did not
have to turn to look at her to know the humor in her voice made her eyes lighter.  She came to me
willingly, as willingly as she stands before you, Dracule.
 I do not understand that, Iliaria said.
 Epiphany is an empathic vampire, Vasco said.  When she sees pain in another she feels it and tries
to soothe it.
 She uses her attention and her love as a balm, Dracule, Renata said.  It is her nature.
 Is this true? she asked me. I thought about what Vasco and Renata had said and realized that they
had spoken truth. I had never seen myself in such a way, but once voiced aloud, the realization slid rightly
into place.
 It is.
 Still, she said,  I would not have you come to me in such a way. If you wish to show me you care,
stand at my side. I do not ask you to kneel at it.
I moved to sit next to her and she caught my wrist, stopping me and sending the tingling sensation in
the mark to buzzing.
 Not now, she said.  If you offer comfort now I will not be able to turn it away and I will forget the
very reason I came.
I nodded, stepping back when she let me go.
 What reason is that? I asked.
She stood.  I came to give you this, she said, reaching into her long coat and retrieving a small
scarlet satchel. She took my wrist again, the one with her mark on it, and placed the velvet bag in my
hand. She folded my fingers around it.  It is for you and you alone. I cannot take back my misdeed  her
eyes dropped to her hand still cradling mine  but I can do this. I can offer you my aid in catching the
vampire that tried to destroy your kin.
 What is it? I asked.
 Open and see, she said, letting go of my hand. Her fingers slid across my knuckles and I fought not
to shudder at the sweet brush of her skin. She sat back on the couch, watching me.
I opened the bag and guided the contents gently into my open palm. A ring dropped out. It was
elegant and appeared to be made of white gold. I raised the ring between my thumb and index finger,
examining the smoky black teardrop that caught the light. At its center was a tiny dot of crimson.
 A ring? I asked.
It was Vasco who spoke, as he moved to the far edge of the couch to see.  That is not just any ring,
colombina. That is a Stone of Shadows.
I stared at the slender ring. It wasn t large or even impressive in size. On the contrary, it was rather
dainty.
I didn t know what to say. If I said it didn t look like something powerful enough to keep a vampire
alive during the day, I would ve only succeeded in insulting Iliaria s kind gift.
Vasco stood, peering over my right shoulder.  Do you see the spot of red in the center? he asked.
 Yes.
 That is her blood.
I searched her blank expression.  You didn t have to do this.
 If we are to find your traitor, then yes, I did.
 Thank you.
She tilted her head and dipped it forward ever so slightly.
 You sound like one who knows my kind personally, she said.
He gave her a charming smile that belied the pain I knew he felt.  Knew, he said,  I knew one of
your kind very well.
 Who was she? Iliaria asked.
 He, Vasco said.  His name was Pantaleone.
 The name does not sound familiar, she said.
 It was a long time ago.
 Dare I ask more?
 Another time, perhaps.
I looked down at the ring.  How does it work?
 You wear it, Iliaria said.  That is how.
 Just like that?
 Yes, just like that.
 Does it matter which finger? Iliaria shook her head.
I slid the ring onto the middle finger of my left hand. I expected to feel some spark of magic, to feel [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]