Chapter Nine
London, England 1811
Giacomo walked along the path in the garden while the full moon shone in the dark sky and he looked up at the stars twinkling overhead. He breathed in the cool air as he adjusted the black, cotton cape on his shoulders and sighed. He jumped when something moved in the darkness and he drew the silver blade sword, holding the handle tightly in his hands.
"Who is there? Show yourself!" he demanded as the shadows blended around him and he heard only the sound of the wind in the trees. He looked around with his eyes while his heart slammed in his chest and his fingers tightened on the handle of the sword. "I must warn you! I'm armed!"
"I can see that you are armed. Do you mind putting that away before you injure yourself?" a female voice asked as he looked to his left and saw someone walking out of the shadows. A wooden staff with an iron lantern hanging on the end of it made a soft thump on the ground as the figure came closer and he could just see that it was Constance. She was wearing a long white gown with black, leather boots on her feet and a white, fur cape was draped over her shoulder. What shocked him more was Cross sitting on her right wrist and the falcon looked at him, sending a cold chill through his body.
"Constance? What are you doing here? How did you get here?" he asked as he looked around and Constance smiled at him, standing in front of him.
"Would you believe that I walked?" she asked while stroking her fingers on his cheek and Giacomo blinked his eyes a few times.
"What? That's impossible," Giacomo said and she sweetly smiled at her.
"Nothing is impossible for a witch," she whispered and he gave her a stunned look. He wasn't sure if she was really a witch, but the fact that she was standing in front of him when he knew she lived miles away made him doubt what she was and if….
"Are you having doubts?" she asked with a hurt look in her eyes as he felt a cold lump in the pit of his stomach and he placed the silver blade sword in the scabbard.
"I am unsure. If you really are a witch, how do I know that you haven't bewitched me?" he asked and she sighed, looking down at the ground.
"Well, you aren't the first one to voice their concerns about what I have or haven't done. Kristina has voiced her concerns as well," she said and saw the stunned look on his face. "No, do not be angry with her. I would have concerns as well if my master had suddenly decided to marry someone no one has heard of before. But, like I told her, like there are good people and bad people, there are good witches and bad ones. I am a white witch and would never do anything to hurt you or your family. My grandmother is also a white witch."
She had noticed that he was looking at the silver blade sword while she was talking and his cheeks grew dark as he blushed. He felt foolish and guilty for doubting her as he slightly smiled and she saw the barest trace of dimples.
"I feel like a right fool. And you have bewitched me. How else can you explain why I fell so fast for you," Giacomo said as she laughed and Cross seemed to giggle as well.
"No, Darling, it was YOU that bewitched ME! Do not let your opinion of yourself blind you. You are very handsome and could have any women. The fact that your heart sought me out makes me wonder if there isn't magic within you," she said and placed her hand against his chest. Cross had jumped to her shoulder as she felt Giacomo's heart thumping against her fingers and he smiled at her, holding her hand in his.
"If I might ask, what is Cross? He isn't just a falcon, is he?" Giacomo asked and Cross tilted its head to one side, blinking its eyes a few times.
"No, he isn't. Cross is my familiar," she said, gently stroking Cross' wing.
"What exactly is a familiar? Isn't it some sort of demon?" Giacomo asked and Cross rose up and growled at him.
"Well, there are some familiars that are demonic, but most are considered to be an aspect of one's life and reflects that self. They are permanent and appear when needed. Cross is the exception to the rule. He's always around," she teased and Cross cooed softly.
"Is he always a falcon?"
"Yes, most of the time, but he can be anything that walks or flies," she said and Giacomo nodded.
"But I still don't understand how you are here," Giacomo said and she gently kissed his lips, sending a cool tingle through his body.
"There are paths that you cannot see, My Love. These paths weave between this world and the world of magic and only a select few can walk then without going mad."
"And you can walk them?" he asked and she nodded.
"But there are things there that do not abide the light. Thus the reason for this lamp," Constance said with a nod to the lantern and he nodded his head. Suddenly Cross growled when she turned around and Giacomo stood next to her, sliding a protective arm around her waist. He removed the silver blade sword out of the scabbard when something growled in the darkness and red eyes shimmered near the trees.
"Show yourself!" Giacomo shouted as he gently moved Constance behind him and held the handle of the silver blade sword in his hands. They watched as the figure walked closer and the light from the lantern grew brighter, allowing them to see the man walking out of the darkness. The man was as tall as Giacomo and had long black hair that was tied back with a black cord. His face seemed to be carved from smooth marble and he was strikingly handsome. He was wearing a white, long sleeve shirt, the long sleeves fluttered in the wind, black trousers that hugged his hips, black socks and black, leather boots that ended at his top of his knees. The gold handle of a sword hanging in the scabbard on the man's left hip shimmered in the light and the man softly smiled, stroking the gold handle with his long fingers. A gold chain was hanging around his neck and the front of his shirt was opened enough that Giacomo could see the tips of the dark hair on his chest. His skin was tan but it was his eyes that made the blood in Giacomo's veins run cold. His eyes were dark enough to be black and Giacomo sensed the evil behind his eyes. The man stopped in front of them when Giacomo held the handle of the silver blade sword tighter and Cross softly growled. "Who are you, Sir?"
"There is no need for such bravado, Mom Ami. I can see that you are afraid of me," the man said and Giacomo clenched his jaw.
"I asked you who you are, Sir!" Giacomo asked and the man softly smiled, doing a little bow.
"Oui, I am Jean-Phillipe De'Avante. Who are you, Mon Ami?" Jean-Phillipe asked.
"I am Giacomo Vincenzi," Giacomo said with a short bow and Jean-Phillipe's eyes flared.
"Are you the son of Roberto Vincenzi?"
"You know my father?" Giacomo said and Jean-Phillipe softly smiled.
"We have…met," he said and Giacomo glared at him. Jean-Phillipe moved closer as Giacomo held the sword up and Jean-Phillipe smiled. "You reminded me of him. He also had a fake bravado about him."
"Are you calling my father a coward, Sir?" Giacomo demanded and Jean-Phillipe laughed.
"Oui, that is what I am calling him!" he said when Giacomo roared and ran at him. Giacomo nearly lost his footing when Jean-Phillipe turned into mist and his laughter echoed around them. "We'll see each other again, Mon Ami! Be assured of that!"
Constance ran to Giacomo as Jean-Phillipe' laughter echoed around them and Giacomo wrapped his arms around her.
"He will come back," she whispered then placed her face against his chest and Giacomo looked up at the dark sky.
"Yes, I'm sure he will," he said and kissed the top of her head.
Peter woke with a start when he sat up and pulled his legs up. He had decided to take a quick kip after rehearsal and the sweat rolled down his back and chest. His heart was going double time against his chest when he got up and slightly staggered toward the bookcase near the bathroom. The room seemed to tilt and swim around as spots blinked in his eyes and his eyes rolled into his head while he slid to the floor with a loud thud.
A low beeping sound filled his ears when Peter slowly opened his eyes and looked to his right. The green light moved up and down and a green 80 blinked at him. He then noticed the plastic tubing taped to the back of his hand and the plastic clip on his right index finger and he looked up at the plastic bag hanging from the pole next to the bed, He sighed when he realized that the air smelt different and reached up, feeling the plastic tubing across his nostrils.
"Don't touch that," a female voice said when he felt someone take his hand and looked up at Cassandra. She looked tired as she pushed the call button and Peter blinked his eyes a few times.
"What?" he softly asked and she hushed him, brushing the hair from his eyes.
"You scared the shit out of us," she whispered and he gave her a sad puppy look. "Jane and I were talking when we heard this loud thud coming from upstairs. Imagine our surprise when we found you on the floor."
"I'm sorry," he whispered when the nurse walked into the room and Cassandra stood at the foot of the bed. He smiled at her while the nurse examined him and Cassandra placed her hands on his toes, which he wiggled from under the blanket. The nurse left a few minutes later and told Cassandra not to let him talk too much. Cassandra sat on the edge of the bed as she took his hand and he wrapped his fingers around her fingers. "What did you tell Darcy?"
"I told her that you passed out. She told the management that you have the flu and they cancelled the next few shows."
"Fuck," he said as she hushed him. "I am so fired."
"I don't think so. People get sick. Now just close your eyes and…" she said and he gave her a frightened look.
"No, I don't want to go to sleep!" he said as she hushed him and stroked his hair back.
"I'll be right here," she said as he sighed then nodded his head, closed his eyes and she watched him drift off to sleep. Moving closer, she gently kissed his lips as he smiled then she sat back and took his hand her hers. "I'm not going anywhere."