The Raven (The Florentine #1)(89)

“How did you get into the gallery the night you took the illustrations?”

“Don’t ask those kinds of questions.” He nibbled on her skin.

“I can’t help it. It bothers me.”

He pulled away, his eyes hard.

“They were stolen from me. I’ve owned them since Botticelli completed them. I had no idea where they were until they materialized at the Uffizi over a century after they were taken from my home.”

“Wait a minute. You said Botticelli completed them?”

“Of course.” He sounded cross.

“But they’re copies, made by one of his students. The originals are in the Vatican and the Staatliche Museen in Berlin.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on William’s lips.

“No, the illustrations in Rome and Berlin are copies. I own the originals.”

“Holy shit.” Raven clapped a hand to her mouth.

Now William was grinning.

“During the Renaissance, I took an interest in human affairs. There were tremendous innovations in architecture, science, painting, and sculpture. I moved in human circles from time to time.

“Botticelli heard rumors about my true nature and decided to illustrate it in the original version of Primavera. I appear as Mercury and as Zephyr. A human woman who fell in love with me was the model for Chloris as well as the second of the three Graces.

“I was angry when I found out what he’d done and intended to kill him. He begged for his life, offering me the painting in question and a set of illustrations of Dante’s Divine Comedy. I agreed. He completed the copies later on.”

Raven dropped her hand.

“A human woman fell in love with you?”

“Yes,” he replied tersely.

“What happened to her?”

William ground his teeth. “She climbed Giotto’s bell tower at the Duomo and jumped to her death.”

“Good God! Why?”

“Because she fell in love with a monster.” William lowered his voice, his eyes steel gray.

“Did you love her?”

“No.”

Raven felt pain lance through her. Few things were more tragic than unrequited love. It was easy to imagine a young Renaissance woman falling in love with William, only to discover that he was a vampyre.

“I’m sorry.”

“So was I.” He shifted to lie on his back, folding his hands on his chest.

“Was she your pet?”

“No.”

Raven was uncertain what to do with that information. Whatever William’s relationship with the woman, centuries later he was still upset about her death.

She looked over at him as a terrible feeling passed over her. He’d mentioned many disturbing things, but all of a sudden several of them came to mind, forming a picture she did not like.

She decided to change their topic of conversation. “Are you hungry?”

Now it was his turn to lift his eyebrows. He stared unashamedly at her neck.

“I meant for food,” she clarified. “Human food. Or wine?”

“I could take a glass of wine, but our bodies don’t digest human food.”

She moved as if to climb off the bed, but he stopped her, placing an arm on either side of her body.

“Are you in pain?”

“No.” She looked away.

“Then why are you upset?”

“I’m not.”

William’s eyes narrowed.

“You are. I can see it, hear it, and, more importantly, I can smell it. What’s the matter?”

She made a face.

“And don’t lie.” His tone grew serious.

Her eyes moved to his. “Did you eat before you arrived?”

“Of course.”

“How many times a day do you eat?”

“It depends. Old ones can feed once per day. Younglings need to eat frequently. I feed when the mood suits, either once or twice per day. It depends on what’s on offer and what my appetite is.” He smiled at her slowly. “I’ve been known to have a healthy appetite.”

“Whenever you feed, you have sex?”

His smile disappeared. “Why are you using that tone?”

“I’m not using a tone.” She tried to shift away from him but he hovered over her, caging her with his body.

His eyes narrowed. “You sound upset.”

“Well, I’m not,” she huffed.

“It’s usual for a vampyre to have sex when he or she feeds. But I tend to be a bit more discerning.”

She looked up at him with interest. “So you don’t have sex every time you feed?”

“Why are you so concerned about this?”

“No reason. Can I get up now?” She glanced at his arms pointedly.

“Cassita.” He ran his nose down the side of hers. “Are you jealous?”

“Of course not.”

He fought a smile. “Then why are you asking about my sexual assignations?”

“You said you wanted me. I was curious if you were building a harem.”

“Such things don’t interest me.”

She hummed in response. “I’m sure you could find someone who didn’t need a cane.”

He brought his lower body to hers. “Are you considering engaging in intercourse with me?”