William’s hand slid to cover hers. “I can tell when you aren’t being truthful. I can hear it in your heartbeat. I can smell it through your skin.”
“Which is extraordinarily creepy and annoying,” she mumbled.
“Almost as annoying as humans who mumble.” William nipped at her ear playfully. “Tell me about your conversation with your sister.”
She twisted in his arms, but he wouldn’t release her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“And her decision regarding your stepfather?” William touched the edge of her jaw, a gentle touch, as if he were trying to coax her to look at him. “I am sorry your conversation with your sister was not what you hoped.”
“That’s an understatement.”
William was quiet for a moment. Raven could almost hear him thinking. “You—concern me.”
She recognized his remark as akin to an admission of weakness.
“Why?”
“I can’t stop thinking about the other night. How upset you were.”
Raven’s lips twisted. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want an apology. You have nothing to apologize for.” William pushed his hair back from his forehead, his body noticeably tense. “What I want is to care for you.”
“You care for me well enough.” Raven relaxed minutely, thinking back to their shower together the previous evening. She felt her skin grow warm.
“I meant with respect to your heart and mind, not just your body.”
“My heart and mind are part of my body,” she whispered.
“Which is why I must care for them all.” Leisurely, he entwined their hands. He brought their connection to his mouth and began kissing the tips of her fingers. “I thought I was giving you a birthday gift, but I gave you a burden instead. I’d like to remove that burden. But I can wait.”
Raven changed the subject. “What about you? You seemed distracted last night.”
“We have some concerns about the principality.”
“Are they serious?”
“Yes, but they’re being addressed.”
“What kind of concerns?”
He began kissing her fingertips once again, drawing them into his mouth and laving them with his tongue. “I don’t want you to take on the worries of the city. You have enough trouble.”
“I care about you, William. If you’re worried, so am I.”
He kissed the back of her hand. “You honor me with your concern.”
“Then honor me by telling me what you’re worried about.”
“Only if you agree to tell me about your conversation with your sister.”
Raven swore, her body tense. “All right.” She relented after a pregnant pause. “You go first.”
William’s body shifted next to her. He looked surprised. Clearly, he hadn’t expected her to agree.
“Vampyres are prey to two groups. You met the weaker one, the hunters. Our spies informed us the stronger group, the Curia, has turned its eyes to Florence. We do not want their scrutiny.”
Raven placed a hand on his arm. “When you say Curia, are you referring to the Vatican?”
“Not precisely,” he hedged.
“Then who are they?”
“Our sworn enemies. A powerful group of human beings with—shall we say—supernatural abilities.” William watched her reaction, cocking his chin in the direction of her chest. “This is what I was worried about. I’ve made your heart race.”
“You can’t keep secrets from me just because I’ll get upset. I’m not made of glass. I’m not going to break.”
His expression tightened. “Human beings are easily broken.”
“I’m not.”
He stroked a single finger over the scar she wore on her forehead. “Unfortunately, my sweetheart, you are only too breakable. A break of any part of you is not something I can sustain.”
Raven lowered her eyes, a hesitant smile creeping across her face.
William’s finger traced the curve of her lips. “It isn’t something to smile about.”
“You called me sweetheart.”
“And?”
“No one has called me that before.”
“It suits you. You’re all sweetness and heart. And all mine.” He kissed her firmly. “You have the sweetest heart I’ve ever had the pleasure of listening to.”
Her smile deepened. “Tell me your troubles and we’ll move on to sweeter things.”
William pulled back, his expression shifting. “Florence has avoided the attention of the Curia since I became prince, primarily because I enacted two laws—one that prohibited feeding on children and one that prohibited indiscriminate killing.”
“What’s ‘indiscriminate killing’?”
“Killing a human every time we feed. Long ago, I persuaded my brethren that food would be more plentiful if we fed without killing. Further, our citizens are not permitted to kill for sport, as a disproportional murder rate attracts unwanted attention. Those who cannot abide by our laws are invited to leave. Forcefully.”
“If the laws have been in place all this time, why is the Curia coming after you now?”
“They heard about the corpses found by the river and about the feral who killed the Interpol agent. They know we wiped out the last incursion of hunters. Since all these events happened in a very short period of time . . .” His voice trailed off.
“What does that mean?”
“It means if they don’t like what they see in future, they’ll intervene.” His face grew grim.
Raven’s eyes fixed on his. “How?”
“They’ll send an army and lay waste to us.”
Raven sat up. “They’ll kill us?”
William frowned. “Not you. The Curia is sworn to protect human life, which is why they’re eager to wipe us out.”
“Can you fight them?”
William rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling. “We can try. We may even succeed in killing some of them. But they have weapons from which we cannot defend ourselves.”
“Don’t take this question the wrong way, but if they have powerful weapons and they mean to destroy you, why haven’t they?”
William’s gray eyes grew glacial. “They know it is beyond them to eradicate evil.”
“You aren’t evil.”
He turned back to the ceiling.
She touched his chest. “What about the other principalities, wouldn’t they help?”
He grimaced. “The last time multiple principalities banded together to fight the Curia was in the Middle Ages. We outnumbered them, which is why the war went on so long. But we could not defeat them.
“The war caused widespread panic and death. Eventually a truce was negotiated, a truce that declared vampyres would live underground, in secret, and cede control of the human population to humans. If another principality were to come to our aid in a conflict with the Curia, it would break the truce and result in a world war. No one wants that.”
“If the Curia were to attack Florence, your neighbors would let them?”
“Not only would they let them, they may be tempted to assist them, if the Curia were to promise to leave them alone.”
Raven’s eyes widened in horror.
He lifted his hand to caress her cheek. “Before you panic, you should know that there’s no guarantee they will come. Conflicts with the Curia draw public attention. The Curia prefers to operate in secret.”