He began to pace back and forth, feeling trapped by Saba, her expectations, and the painful revelations she’d dumped on him. “Some things should not exist. This is one of them.”
Even as he said it, he knew she was right. He could never destroy an artifact so ancient. His uncle would never forgive him. History would never forgive him.
Saba smiled again. “Have you read it, Young Vecchio?”
He stopped pacing. “No, I told you I don’t read—”
“You will learn,” Saba said. “And only after you have read the scroll of Mithra should you make a decision about its value. It is the only logical course of action.”
He was angry, afraid, and confused. Why did Saba keep making so much sense?
Ben held the scroll close to his body. “You’re just giving me this superpowerful object? Why?”
“I told you,” she said. “I’m curious.”
Ben felt like screaming. “I don’t think that’s what Walt Whitman intended.”
Saba frowned but said nothing more.
“And if it does work?” Ben stepped closer to Saba and looked down at the calm vampire sitting on the bench. Her calm stoked his anger. “Say it does work, Saba. It will make me more powerful than any immortal on earth. More powerful than even you.”
There was her infuriating smile again. “Do you think so?”
“I will control all four elements. I would be able to conquer nations. Steal territory. Rule over cities where you hold sway.” He held the leather-wrapped scroll in front of her face. “What is to say that I won’t figure out the secrets of this scroll and—”
“You’re Giovanni Vecchio’s son,” she said softly. “The same man who risked burns to pull an ancient vampire from the sun’s killing rays. The man who sacrificed his innocence to protect a pregnant woman. The man who handed power back to an ancient instead of claiming it for himself. You are the hope and the legacy of your family line, son of Giovanni and Beatrice, brother of Sadia, mate of Tenzin.”
Despite the import of the moment and the kindness of her words, Ben felt a stab of pain in his chest. “She’s not my mate.”
“Of course she is.” Saba rose and took his chin between her fingers. “If you could see who she has become with you, compared to who she was.” Saba shook her head softly. “My most reckless and rebellious daughter. The one who has survived. I could never tell her anything; she would not accept it. But I smell her blood in your veins, Benjamin Vecchio. I see her mark on your heart. She is your mate.”
Saba moved toward a blackened passageway. “Come. It is time to stake your claim.”
As soon as she moved, Ben smelled the acrid smoke drifting down the passageway. “Arosh.”
“And Tenzin.” She shook her head. “The two of them, so arrogant.”
Tenzin sent another wave of wind across the chasm, directing the fire into the side of a hill. “Does Saba know you’re burning churches?”
“We’ve done it before.” His eyes were alight with destructive joy. “It will hardly be the first time.”
“You aren’t going to get the scroll. We won’t let you have it.” Tenzin rose in the air and dove down, drawing Arosh’s fire from a line of early-morning pilgrims she saw walking toward the church. There were children in the group, mothers with infants. The bastard Fire King wasn’t going to kill any more innocents, not while she was alive.
Arosh aimed another stream of fire at her, but she stopped it, sucking the air from the flames before they could do any damage.
The pilgrims walking toward the churches turned and ran, their cries echoing in the predawn light.
“The scroll is mine!” Arosh screamed. “I am the blood of Mithra. I am the inheritor of his power. I am—”
“You don’t know who the hell your sire was!” Tenzin yelled back. “I’ve heard the stories.” Tenzin watched the door of the church. Surely Daniel would emerge soon with Ben in tow. Then she could finish off her fight with the mad bastard who didn’t even realize the sun was less than an hour from rising. “You woke in an empty black cave, Arosh. You probably killed your sire before they realized what you were.”
“I am the blood of Mithra,” Arosh shouted from a rocky ledge.
“Repeating it doesn’t make it true.” Tenzin darted through the air, no longer caring about stealth. She had to keep an eye on the church doors, another on the horizon, and still dodge the spears of flame Arosh kept sending toward her.
Where the hell was Benjamin?
She drew a long throwing dagger from her tunic. She had no desire to kill Arosh—she didn’t need the political headache—but maybe she could scare him enough to stop raking the earth with flames.
Part of her desperately wanted to end the man—she had a feeling she could take him in combat—but that would shift the balance of power. She had no intention of taking on Arosh’s responsibilities on the Alitean Council or his territory, so as much as he irritated her, she had to let him live.
She tested the edge of her dagger, then flung the blade toward him, shifting the air around it until she saw the quick flick of hair that flew up when the edge of the knife caught the Fire King’s ear.
“Tenzin!”
The vampire flew into an even greater rage, a column of fire forming around him, the flames making his hair fly in a torrent of heat and wind.
Dammit. He was losing control, forgetting their location and the people around him.
She needed Ben and his diplomatic words. He always seemed to be able to temper situations and avoid violence.
He would probably not have advised throwing the dagger.
Plus, when he was with her, their power built on each other. Their amnis reinforced the other. In the dry, crackling air of the Ethiopian mountains, Arosh was at his most powerful. She couldn’t pull enough air from around him to kill the flames. She could suck the fuel for his fire away for a second, but then he lit it again.
And again.
And again.
Taking shelter behind a wall, Tenzin looked at the horizon, then back at the church. The sky was growing lighter; she needed to get Ben away from this place and safe in their compound. She needed Daniel to emerge. She needed Saba—
“My love.”
Tenzin flew up when she heard Saba’s voice.
The most ancient one put a gentle hand on Arosh’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”
Tenzin’s eyes flew around the church compound. Arosh was cornered on a ledge across from the church where he’d leaped to mount his attack on her.
Where had Saba come from?
It was as if the earth just spit her out wherever she wanted to go. Tenzin hovered over the chasm between the church and the path, watching Arosh and waiting for Ben.
“The human has the scroll.” Arosh growled.
“He is no longer human,” Saba said. “And he has my favor.” She stroked a hand over his long beard, then turned toward the growing light. “Come, my prince. We will take shelter for the day and continue this discussion tonight.”
“Discussion?” Tenzin couldn’t stop the snark.
“Not helpful, Tiny.”
His voice brought a rush of inexplicable joy to the center of her being.