Chapter 13

If Love is Aces, Give Me the Jack*

* Title is a lyric from the song, 'If Love is a Red Dress,' performed by Maria McKee on the Pulp Fiction soundtrack.

By the time Gregorio and I are sensible of anything besides each other, we seem to be miles from where we started. We're completely buried in a snow drift and have to dig ourselves out. We must have caused a small-scale avalanche at some point, because we dig for a long, long time. We have to dig gingerly so we don't cause another snow slide. We look at each other and laugh as we dig. We grab each other's faces for quick kisses as we dig. We start to worry that we're never going to get out of here as we dig.

We finally reach air and pull ourselves on top of the snow. I look around at the vast whiteness, and wonder if I'm ever going to see my cape again. Gregorio says there's no way he's ditching his Armani suit, so we glide gracefully through the snow until we spot a dark mound near the top of a mountain and find our clothes. We gather our things and decide to head down to the base of the mountain, where we won't have to worry so much about getting lost in the snow again. We slide down on our knees, half skiing, half sledding. It's a riot.

Darkness has set in by the time we reach the bottom of the mountain. We build a small fire in a patch of dirt near our boat. Not because we need it for the light or the warmth, but because it reminds us of Madagascar. We want to watch the flames and let our minds wander. We sit down and nuzzle into each other and watch the flames. Our minds wander. So do our hands. So do our mouths.

I'm on top of Gregorio, straddling him. My hands are pushed into the ground on either side of his head, and we're playfully licking and nipping at each other's lips. I latch onto his scar and suck it into my mouth. I tickle it will my tongue. I love that scar. I fricking love that scar.

I release his lip and say, "Gregorio, I'm starving."

He opens his eyes wide in mock fright and asks, "Are you at least going to give me a head start this time?"

"Ha ha," I respond sarcastically. I'm able to laugh about it now.

I haven't seen any wildlife at all. I look to the icy water. "Fishing, I presume," I say.

"Unfortunately," he groans.

"Oh, it's not so bad," I say as I roll off of him and stand up. "Come with me," I demand sweetly, pulling on his hands. I don't want to be more than a few feet away from him ever again.

We slip between two slabs of ice into the inky sea and enter a new universe. We are immersed in quiet, chilled purple while an enormous mosaic of black trapezoids and polygons floats above us. Our legs undulate like fins as we dive down to the depths, where we know we'll find bigger game.

We dive until we spy our prey, and then we dart through the dark water like two, gleaming apparitions. I feast on huge cod and other fish, while Gregorio only picks at them. He's still full from Amsterdam and is only down here to appease me. We're reenergized, and we glide back up through the frigid water, playfully spinning and dancing around each other. We poke our heads above the surface, and all we can see are ridges of floating ice chunks. Gregorio pulls himself up onto a miniature berg, and I do the same. We see the tiny spot of golden light from our fire in the distance. We exchange a mischievous sideways glance, and the race is on.

We skip like lightening over the slabs of ice toward shore. I'm in the lead until I land too hard on a berg, and it cracks in two, sending me to my knees. I quickly recover and make a diagonal bee line to Gregorio, who has shot ahead of me. From two bergs behind, I leap at him, and we crash down. We land on a strong plait of ice. It doesn't break, although Gregorio has made a significant dent. I pull myself to my knees beside him and run my hand delicately along the side of his face. He's lying on his back, looking up at me.

"Gregorio," I say tenderly, "I have to tell you something."

He tilts his head and narrows his eyes expectantly, ready to listen to whatever I have to tell him.

I raise my knee and place one foot flat on the ice. My lips curl into a wicked grin, and I say, "I am totally going to beat you to shore!"

I launch myself from the ice and zoom across the surface of the sea. I can hear Gregorio behind me. He's close. I'm a few feet from shore when he slams into my back, catapulting us both into the snowy ice near our fire. We roll around and giggle and kiss until he pins my hands over my head, and then we just kiss. We kiss every bit as aggressively as we just pounded across the ice. I wrap my legs around him again, and we spend some more quality time in the snow.

* * *

Even though we are vampires, even though our body temperatures operate at subhuman levels, even though we've been extraordinarily active, hours and hours on ice and snow, combined with a dip in the frozen sea has taken its toll on us. Gregorio gets blankets from the boat, and we wrap ourselves in them and sit by the fire.

Our hair has frozen into black crystals – Gregorio's in curling waves and rings, and mine in sharp spikes. We hold our heads near the heat of the fire and comb our fingers through each others' hair as it thaws and dries. I style Gregorio's soft and shaggy, like in Madagascar. He strokes mine back and tucks it behind my ears. He seems to want it away from my face. We are quiet during this time, silently studying each other's faces and exchanging small, tender smiles. We are in love.

"Gregorio," I say delicately. I don't want to disturb our perfect moment, but I need to tell him something. "There was something else in Madagascar. Something else that made me see you in a new light."

His look turns curious as he continues stroking my hair.

"You told me that you refused to transform humans into vampires," I say.

His black, shining eyes flick warily onto mine.

"You said your reasons were complicated," I continue. "Will you tell me what they are? Explain them to me?"

Gregorio sighs deeply, and then sounds a bit reluctant when he tells me, "Yes, my love, I will tell you. If you want to know, I will tell you."

"I want to know."

He takes his hands from my hair and holds his arms out to me. I come to him and snuggle into his chest. I turn so that we're both facing the fire. He wraps his blanketed arms around me and begins his story.

"I was human during the fifteenth century, in the Umbrian hills of Italy. I don't remember my human life at all. I only know bits and pieces that I've surmised over time. I'm one of those unique cases where I don't know who created me. Perhaps he was interrupted half way through feeding on me and had to suddenly leave; perhaps he converted me and was subsequently killed; or perhaps he'd changed me only for sport and had no interest in watching over a newborn. Whatever the case, the result was that I was left an out-of-control, blood-thirsty vampire rampaging through the Volturi's back yard. It didn't take long for them to catch up with me.

"They saw that I was a newborn and brought me in instead of destroying me on the spot. They took care of me and taught me how to live discreetly. Along the way, I exhibited a knack for organization and leadership. Dogged determination and intimidation were my key talents."

I nod. I'm fully acquainted with Gregorio's dogged determination.

"I didn't care anything about my human life. I was an up-and-comer with the Volturi and loving every minute of it. One cloudy day, about a decade after I'd become a vampire, I was walking in the hill town of Orvieto. I'd only recently become disciplined enough to walk among humans as if I were one of them. I turned a corner and came face to face with a woman who sent a jolt through me. I had a connection with this woman. I had known her in my human life.

"My attention was caught by a pre-pubescent boy when he came running along to her side, carrying a basket of bread and other items from the market. He called her, 'mama.' The boy had thick, black curls, and he looked at me curiously through deep, brown eyes that were the image of mine, except for their slightly lighter hue. I knew instantly that he was my son and that this woman next to him had been my wife. The boy must have been very small when I'd left him and didn't know who I was. To him I was just a stranger on the street, staring at him. But the woman…the woman…she knew."

Gregorio pauses for a moment and his arms stiffen around me. It seems the story has become difficult for him.

"Her wide eyes fixed on me with a tumult of emotion raging though them. I'll never forget the confusion, the betrayal, the agony, and the accusation in those hazel eyes. I don't know how she understood my presence there that day. I clearly hadn't aged since she'd last seen me, and my appearance had subtly altered in other ways, but she knew it was me, the man she remembered as her husband. The man who'd left her alone with a baby. Surely she must have thought me dead, but there I was. Did she now think I'd walked out on them, found the fabled fountain of youth and left my family for better things?

"She'd clamped her mouth tightly, as if to hold in a scream, and her fists clenched, dropping the bundle she'd been carrying. All the while, her eyes burned on me. The boy merely snapped his gaze back and forth between us, dumbfounded as to what was going on. I was obviously distressing them, this family that I didn't remember. There was nothing I could say that would make it easier for them, so I walked away. Without a word, I walked out of their lives a second time and never went back, never tried to find out a thing about them. It was better that way.

"But I thought about them often. The unbearable pain in the woman's eyes. The beautiful boy who had to grow up without a father, never knowing what had happened to him. It would have been better for them if I had died a normal death. At least then they would have had a body. They would have known what had happened to me. It would have been better for them. Instead, they lived the rest of their lives thinking……I don't know what they thought."

Gregorio begins subconsciously rubbing his hands along my arm. "So that is why I refuse to transform anyone. I don't want to put that agony in anyone else's eyes. It's not a natural end to a life. It's not the way it is supposed to be."

I bring my arms over his and hold his hands still. This obviously wasn't an easy thing for him to share. "You are so good, Gregorio. You are so good," I tell him. "I've always thought the practice of intentionally transforming humans was wrong. The human soul was meant to move on to the next life, not to roam the earth for eternity."

Gregorio makes a small noise in his throat, indicating that he's both surprised and pleased by what I've just told him. "Two philosophers against the world," he murmurs in my ear. "Too bad no one will listen to us."

I turn to face him. I touch his chin to bring his eyes to mine. "We can change the world if we decide to, Gregorio," I tell him evenly, not breaking our gaze.

He pulls his eyebrows together and examines me; he didn't expect my earnestness on the subject. Then he says, "Yes, Elisabeta, I believe you could change the world, or at least die trying." He goes back to staring into the flames. Recounting his story has taken something out of him.

I nuzzle back into him and face the fire. I can't believe how close I feel to Gregorio in such a short time. I'm ready to share my secrets. Some of them.

"I have a story too," I say quietly.

Gregorio reestablishes his tight embrace and asks me to tell him. I tell him about Kristoph. I tell him everything, every detail. It's extremely difficult. More difficult than I could have imagined. Father Pawel is the only other person on this earth who knows, and I'd never been able to relate most of the gruesome details to him. Gregorio listens and holds me. The old urge to scream doesn't boil up in me like it used to, but I'm drained. I don't like confessing. It's not comfortable. When I'm finished, I turn to Gregorio and wrap my arms tightly around his neck. He rubs my back and strokes my hair.

He whispers to me, "I'm so sorry, Elisabeta. I'm so sorry that happened to you."

He calms me. He makes me feel stronger. I push myself up from him with my hands on his chest.

"There's something else," I tell him. "Gregorio," I say slowly and hesitate. It's okay. I can trust him. I love him. He loves me. "I don't feed on humans anymore. I haven't since Kristoph."

I watch his face. He's perfectly still. I can't read his dark eyes or his pale features.

"None at all?" he finally asks in wonder.

I shake my head. "At first I couldn't. I tried, but I'd always think of Kristoph, and I couldn't. Then I got better, but I still didn't want to. It just, it suddenly seemed so wrong. I knew I could survive without taking human life, so it seemed like I shouldn't anymore."

"Is it very difficult for you?" he asks.

"Not really. Not usually. For me, there are a lot of extenuating circumstances that make it easier to abstain. But you read in my book about the other vampires who live this way and have resisted much stronger temptations. They found ways to do it. One of the covens I interviewed and quoted were the Cullens in Washington. They come from diverse backgrounds, but they've banded together and gain strength from each other. And of course, there's the Madigascarians, who tend to go with the 'out of sight, out of mind' approach. It can be done."

"But you've done it all alone," Gregorio says, running his fingertips down my face.

I look down. Should I tell him about Father Pawell? Of course I should. But something holds me back. I can't look him in the eye, so I lean down, into his shoulder.

He rubs his hand slowly up and down my back. As his hand tickles me, he utters admiringly, "My Elisabeta, breaking all the rules."

His strong hand on me and the compliment give me the courage to take another step, to push it a little further. "Gregorio, do you think you'd ever consider it? Giving up humans?" I ask.

"Hmm," he murmurs. "It's not something I've ever thought about. It's such an inherent part of our existence. But I suppose--" His voice cuts off, and his hand freezes on my back and goes rigid. "My God, Elisabeta," he hisses, "You're already trying to change the world, aren't you?" With his other hand he grasps my chin and pulls me to face him. "When did this thing happen with Kristoph?" he demands.

"Fifty years ago," I answer carefully. I don't know where this is going.

"Ten years before you returned to B.I.T.E., long enough to convince yourself that feeding on humans was wrong, that none of us should be doing it. Long enough to make a plan," he says accusingly, jerking my face.

I yank my face from his grip and push myself entirely away from him and stand up. In a flash, he's standing directly in front of me.

"Your research, the book – you've been plotting this entire time, haven't you? You only came back to tap into B.I.T.E.'s resources." His voice is seething.

I hadn't expected him to put it all together this easily. I'm not prepared. I can only stare at him stupidly.

He looks up the sky and bellows, "I am such a fool! This whole thing has just been another one of your tricks, hasn't it? You're only trying to manipulate me into buying into your little scheme!" His eyes are as hard as I've ever seen them, and all of their fury is directed at me. "You've never stopped working for a moment have you?"

"What?" I shout. "How dare you!"

"You've been playing me since day one! I've always known you were up to something, Elisabeta. At least now I finally know what it is," he adds bitterly.

"Oh, so you're the one who's been working overtime! Pretending to love me! Sweetening me up so you can find out my secret! Well, you're very good at what you do, Gregorio. I suppose that's how you got that scar – toyed with the wrong vamp, did you? She wasn't trying to eat you; she was trying to kill you!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Gregorio spits.

"Oh, but I am ridiculous, Gregorio!" I scream. I am out of control. Everything, everything I thought I'd held in my arms a moment ago has turned out to be an enormous fricking lie. I am shouting blindly and flailing my arms. "I am ridiculous! I fell in love with you! I believed you! I trusted you! I am a ridiculous, stupid, idiot fool!"

"Elisabeta!" Gregorio shouts as he grabs my arms and yanks me forward. I'd been about to step into the fire. I wrench my arms out of his grip and step backwards, away from him, away from the fire. I want to run away, but there's nowhere to go. I'm trapped.

"Calm down," he says. His voice is shaking, but he's making an effort to be more reasonable.

I'm not.

I face him with my jaw set and eyes blazing. I don't say a word. I have nothing to say to him. Gregorio mistakes my infuriated silence for a willingness to listen.

"You must realize what a dangerous thing this is to try to do," he says. "You've been abusing your position at one of the most powerful organizations in the world. If Viktor finds out--"

"Oh, and I'm sure you'll make certain that he does," I growl.

Gregorio's eyes ignite again. "You're going to attempt this no matter what I say, aren't you?" he fumes. He takes a step toward me to grab my hands. I take a defiant step back. He stops his advance and regards me. He sees my determination; it's a sentiment he can understand. "Well then, you are a bigger fool than me," he says ominously.

I don't need to listen to his lecture.

"Take me home, Gregorio," I huff through gritted teeth.

"At your service, as ever," he says nastily.

We pull on our traveling clothes, careful not to look at each other as we get dressed. Gregorio gathers the rest of our items and tosses them angrily into the boat. Then he puts out the fire while I shove my things into my waterproof backpack and secure it. He shoves the boat into the water, then leaps in and takes the wheel. I sit at the back of the boat, as far away from him as possible.

He starts the engine, and our fairy tale ends.