Exhilarating, though, to immerse himself in a city, the pulse of its occupants replacing his absent heartbeat with a rhythm all their own. Surprising, too, to discover that in such a varied place, a shipping port with a rowdy reputation, less true evil occurred than in Genoa. Most disturbances were what Vitale named to himself 'little evils' -- the result of quick tempers and free-flowing ale, rather than the insidious evil of desperate minds and ancient rivalries.

That was changing, though. Vitale sensed it in the flow and ebb of the citizens' energies. There was talk of a new ally -- one who would be instrumental in a plan to advance the Ghibellines to a victory over the Guelfs, and the talk had a dark cast.

Vitale smiled ruefully at the city that was his charge. For much longer than he'd been alive, the Ghibellines, allied with the Emperor, had struggled with the Guelfs, who supported the pope. It did not surprise Vitale that this slightly wicked city sided with the Emperor. It did worry him, however, to feel the first stirrings of that deeper darkness. And yet, a sharp feeling of antic.i.p.ation quivered in the coa.r.s.e interstices of his granite body. The darkness, his cousin, and Ysa. Somehow, they were all tied together, and this increasing awareness, this trickle of unrest, seemed a harbinger of their arrival.

And so it was.

On a bright sunny day filled with laughter and bustling energy, Pan and Ysa stepped carefully onto the dock at Messina, and Vitale felt their presence as a block of ice that shivered down his throat, to settle in an unmelting heap in his gut.

He located the two immediately, and followed them with his outflung senses to an inn called the Third Traveler. In his mind, Ysa fairly glowed, beautiful as ever, yet surrounded by that questing mire. Pan vibrated with a great excitement, an exhilaration echoed by the darkness that gripped his soul. Vitale shuddered within. No touch seemed more corrupt than that of gloating darkness. Diavolo, however, was not present. He was a vibration in the air, a whiff of corruption in the sea wind. Soon to come, no doubt, but not yet here.

Vitale withdrew his psychic web slightly, still close enough to sense the greater evil when it came, yet far enough that its taint would not leave him reeling as it had before. Then he settled in to wait. If there was one thing he had learned during the daylight hours since his transformation, it was patience.

Ysa collapsed back onto the feather-stuffed bed with a sigh. "Oh, Pan. This is heavenly!"

He smiled indulgently. Before they left Genoa, 'Berto had repaid his younger half-brother in full for the loan which had purchased the inn and even thrown in a bit more to thank Pan for the well-placed whispers that sent wealthy travelers his way and established the inn as the foremost in the city. Lucky for Pan that 'Berto actually was as good as he'd advertised. He fondled the heavy pouch at his waist.Very lucky.

Ysa jumped up and walked to the door that opened onto a wide balcony. Stepping out, she took a deep breath and leaned against the rail, flashing a bright smile at him over her shoulder. A stiff breeze, heavy with salt and sea, teased her dark curls. She reached up to tug free the silver cord confining her hair, and the thick strands danced like gypsies in the wind.

For some reason, his eyes felt moist, and he found himself trying to swallow a painful lump in his throat. He walked out onto the balcony and slipped his arms around Ysa's waist, holding her from behind as she turned back to stare out at the city.

Her mahogany hair fluttered, caressing his arms. A strand whipped around his neck, seeming to hug him. Pan closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the back of her head.

"Ysa."

"Hmmm?" She was distracted, gaze darting here and there. He knew her well enough to know that the color, the movement, the strangeness, fascinated her.

"Marry me."

She stiffened immediately, a nubile nymph suddenly gone stone cold. Shaking her head, she tugged his hands from around her waist and stepped back into the room.

Trembling with anger, Pan stormed after her. "Why not?"

Ysa stood by the bed, twisting the coverlet with agitated fingers. "I can't, Pan. Vitale --"

"Is either dead or has forgotten you," Pan finished harshly. "Where is he, Ysa? Where is your sweet, gentle, puling child of a man now?"

"Hewill come, Pan. I know he will."

She looked up, and he stared into mola.s.ses eyes dark enough to suck a man in and hold him forever. And obviously so dark as to be blind! Abruptly, he reached out and grasped her shoulders, pulling her into him, molding her body to his. She gazed at him, eyes wide and startled, and yet he glimpsed an undercurrent of excitement. She liked it when he took charge, when he was a little rough.

But not too rough. He strained to keep his voice soft. "If he is alive, and has forgiven you, why hasn't he come for you?"

Ysa glanced down, hiding her eyes from him. "It may take time, but he loves me. He will forgive me."

"How long? How long will you wait?" Pan slid his hands from her shoulders, tracing the curve of her back until he cupped her b.u.t.tocks, pressing her hard against his stiffened manhood. "Do you think he will understand why you stay?" Reaching up, he cupped her chin, tilting her head so she would have to look at him. "Why you still allow me to dothis ?"

He pressed his lips to hers, wrapping his hand around her neck as she made a small noise of protest and started to pull away. Gently, so gently, he caressed her lips with the tip of his tongue. For a long moment, she continued to lean away from him.

He cupped her right b.u.t.tock with his hand and began kneading. Ysa moaned, and Pan slipped his tongue into her mouth as her lips parted.

Her fingers stroked his neck, tangled in his hair. He caressed her hip, bringing his hand around to slide her skirt up and slip between her warm legs. Ysa sighed, her tongue darting inside his mouth, tasting him daintily as her thighs parted. For a moment, he thought he'd won.

Then his fingers slid inside her inviting warmth, and she stiffened again. "No." She fumbled for his arm, his wrist, tugging. "No!" When he resisted, she grasped his shoulders and shoved.

Slightly unbalanced, he withdrew his hand while stepping back and his heel hit the leg of the bed. Ysa shoved again and he went down on his back, hitting the floor hard. "Don't do that again, Pan. Ever."

He glared at her, pushing himself up on clenched knuckles. "Do you think I'll play this game forever?" He sprang up, shaking with barely suppressed rage. Ysa edged away from him. "My patience is not eternal, Ysa. Either you will marry me, or you will leave." He smiled, feeling his lips twist with anger. Ysa backed even further. "I'm sure you'd have no trouble earning a living. You should do well as a tavern wh.o.r.e."

Her eyes widened and flashed with heat, a hand spinning out to slap his face, but he caught her forearm. "I told you about this, Ysa. You don't fight the man that feeds you." He turned her arm, twisting until she had to step closer or experience real pain. "Eventually, my patience will wear thin, and I willmake you mine." He grasped her head and pressed his lips to hers in a punishing kiss, stopping only when she opened her mouth and he tasted blood.

He pushed her away, and she fell across the bed in a heap. Without another word, he took up his cloak and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Chapter 14: Promises in the Dark.

As the last ray of daylight flickered and winked out, Vitale stretched his wings, flexing his feet. His sharp, grasping claws sank into the stone upon which he perched. Looking out across the city, swarming with people walking home after their day's work, with men seeking the taverns and fleet children racing at the sound of their mother's call, he hesitated. Better to wait, and seek his childhood companions after curious eyes closed for the night.

Settling back, he tightened the delicate web of thought surrounding the Third Traveler. A moment's concentration allowed him to separate the many images he received. Ysa was lying on the bed in her room, exuding extraordinary sadness even in sleep. His arms ached to reach out and hold her, to comfort her. His cousin appeared to be gone.

Vitale flexed his senses. There. Pan sat drinking ale and gambling in a wharfside tavern. Vitale waited and watched as night drew its cloak tighter. As more and more of the city settled into slumber, he stretched his wings. He meant to find a structure near the tavern where Pan gambled and wait for him to depart, but in mid-flight, he felt a painful tug at his heart. A vision rose unbidden in his thoughts.

"Vitale, please!" Ysa stood on her balcony searching the sky, cheeks damp with tears.

He sent out a tendril of thought, brushing her mind gently.

His chest tightened. She longed for him, ached to be held in his arms, the intensity so surprising, so strong, that he couldn't resist that call. Veering sharply, he angled toward the inn, toward Ysa, his heart in his throat.

Her eyes widened as his shadow crossed the moon. She stepped back, seeming afraid of him. Vitale faltered, hovering awkwardly, but a moment later she was smiling through her tears, holding her arms out to him.

Vitale landed carefully on the balcony, worried that it wouldn't support his weight.

"You came." Ysa's words were breathy, choked.

Vitale could only stare, drowning in his love for her, yet at the same time fighting the pain of her betrayal.

She must have seen something in his eyes. "We must talk. Please!"

He nodded, taking a step toward her. Ysa glanced back into the room, apprehensive. She turned to Vitale, shaking her head. "Not here."

He hesitated, then nodded again. Wordlessly, Ysa stepped forward and held her arms out to him. Vitale hugged her shoulders with one arm, sweeping the other behind her knees, and lifted her. Cradling Ysa carefully, he launched himself into the sky, depositing her gently only when he had landed on the roof of an abandoned villa outside of town.

He expected her to move away, but she clung to him. "Hold me, Vitale."

He started to wrap his arms around her, then drew back abruptly, frightened that he would hurt her with his strange body of stone. Ysa whimpered, grasping his wrists, guiding his hands to the small of her back. "Please, Vitale. Hold me. I've missed you so much, and Pan..." She rubbed her cheek against his chest. "Pan is frightening me."

Vitale's grip tightened involuntarily, and Ysa drew in a sharp breath, but when he made as if to move away again, she pressed herself into him.

"Pan is in trouble, Ysa." Vitale winced at the gruff, rumbling quality this form gave his voice. "Dark forces are at work around him."

Ysa shivered in the circle of his arms. "I know. Her name is Diamante, and she is..." She leaned back to look up at Vitale with wide eyes. "I think she is a demon, Vitale."

He did not want to frighten her any more than she already was, so he did not tell her that Diamante was something much worse. Instead, he tightened his grip, pulling her close.

Ysa's hands grasped his shoulders. "You feel so strange," she breathed.

Vitale frowned and loosened his grip.

She smiled then, reaching out to caress his cheek. "No, it's all right. I like it." Her soft sigh tickled his chest. "You smell of earth and gra.s.s and flowers. Like a meadow." Giggling, she trailed her fingers along his jaw, down his neck, fluttering along his chest. "You feel just like stone. Hard and strong. Rough. But I expected you to be cold. You're not. You're warm."

It felt so right to hold her in his arms again. He kissed the top of her head and she snuggled into him like a kitten, but then her hand touched the stone pillar between his legs. "So warm," she whispered, drawing the tips of her fingers along its length.

Vitale grunted, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her away. "What about Pan?"

She licked her lips nervously. "What about him?"

"I saw you. Saw him. You were letting him..." His voice broke. He squared his shoulders, forced himself to continue. "At first, I thought he was taking you against your wishes. But then, after I let the arrow fly, you turned. I know, Ysa. I know that you wanted it."

Ysa clenched her fists, eyes flashing. "That's right, Vitale. I wanted it." Gone from purring kitten to angry tiger in a moment, her vehemence hit him like a wall. "I wanted it with you. But always, always, you pushed me away. As though you didn't want me. As though I wasn't good enough for you."

Vitale's own temper flared. "Don't, Ysa. Don't ever try to say that I didn't love you. I nearly destroyed my relationship with my father for you. I was ready to renounce my family, my land, to be with you!"

Ysa closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opened them, she was calm. Earnest. "You're right, Vitale. I've never doubted your love." She glided toward him. "But I doubted your need." She touched his chest, and he shivered. "How could I need you so much, Vitale? Like a fire in me. Consuming me. And you wouldn't help. You wouldn't help me tame the fire before it burned me to ashes. And though I say I never doubted your love, that isn't entirely true. I wondered how you could truly love me, when you didn't feel the same way?"

Vitale's own need raged in him, flames licking in his heart, his loins. He groaned. "I did feel it, Ysa. Every night. I would sit at my window, looking toward the village. Picturing you in my head. And I would..." He closed his eyes, unable to continue.

"What, my love?" Ysa's cool fingers trembled as they closed around his stony erection. "Did you touch yourself, Vitale?" She pressed her body up against him, rubbed him between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Did you touch yourself, as I did?"

Desire poured through him. A sound came from his mouth -- frightening, primal. Ysa looked up at him, trembling, yet her lips curled in triumph, and antic.i.p.ation danced in her eyes. Vitale lifted her abruptly, covering her mouth with his, devouring the sweet taste of her plump lips, her dainty tongue.

Ysa moaned, wrapping her legs around his chest. He grasped her waist, and she kissed him hungrily as she pulled her skirts up over her hips. "I have waited so long, Vitale. Take me. Take me now!"

He started to resist, but then realized in a rush that there was no reason to hold back any longer. He was dead to his father, his village. Ysa was dead to them too, now. They could go anywhere, make a life together. Taking a ragged breath, he lowered Ysa gently, until his stone c.o.c.k pressed against lips slick with moisture.

Ysa squirmed. "Yes, Vitale, yes." She showered soft, hot kisses on his cheeks, his eyelids, his nose. "I have wanted you for so long, my love. So long."

Vitale moaned, plunging between her lips, feeling them stretch so tight around him that Ysa screamed.

He gasped, trying to raise her up though he wanted nothing more than to drive himself deeper. Ysa clutched his shoulders. "It's all right, my love." She clung, fighting to keep him inside her. "It's all right."

She flung her head back, capturing his gaze, and he saw stars reflected in the depths of gypsy eyes dark with desire. Shuddering, he worked himself inside her. She whimpered and moaned as he forced more and more of his length into the hot embrace of her flesh, yet licked her lips, flashing a wicked, abandoned smile.

Vitale lost control, plunging deep inside her. Ysa screamed, but it was a sound rich in joy, triumph, pleasure. The tip of his c.o.c.k met a barrier, unable to go any deeper. Ysa writhed and whispered in his arms, "Yes, yes, yes," and then he was lost as she arched, her hot folds squeezing him tight, over and over, his need exploding from him, tiny arcs of blue lightning riddling the air just above their joined bodies as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over them.

When ecstasy finally released its hold, Ysa slumped against his chest. "G.o.ddess!" She caressed Vitale's arms as he held her. "That was so strange. So wonderful!"

Vitale nodded wordlessly, arms locked around her, legs tense. Whatever he was, he wasn't flesh, and so there had been no fluid to fill her, but there had still been a release. A flow of energy from his body into hers, a pleasure so intense it almost frightened him.

Ysa pressed her hands against his shoulders, raising her head to look at him suggestively through her lashes. "Do it again."

Vitale laughed. "I'm not sure I can."

Ysa's eyes seemed to darken. Bracing herself, she pumped her hips, making her swollen lips slide up and down his shaft. As stone, his c.o.c.k was always long, always thick, always rigid. Instead of lengthening and swelling as he became aroused, it filled with a sparkling energy -- a buzzing, tickling need.

He groaned. Dropping gently to his knees, he rested Ysa back against the stone roof. He looked into her eyes, watching them fill with desire and pleasure as he moved slowly in and out.

Ysa untied her bodice, pushing back the fabric to expose her plump, ripe b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Vitale moaned, moving to cover one orb, licking the dark, tender bud at its tip.

Ysa arched, wrapping her hands around his neck, pressing him against her. Vitale sucked gently, pulling more of the pale orb between his lips. Closing his eyes, he lost himself in the sound of his love's whimpers, her soft sighs.

He let his senses flow into her. Felt the b.u.t.terfly flutter of her heart, the tiny electric pulses that pierced her abdomen each time his tongue flicked across her nipple.

Burrowing through her body, his questing mind discovered a tight, burning core deep within her. A golden orb, it swelled with each stroke of his c.o.c.k. Deepest rose washed over it at intervals, growing hotter, brighter, as he tasted her. Vitale's hands clenched, driving his talons into the roof. He began to thrust faster and faster, watching that bright orb grow and grow within her until she arched and the globe exploded, her body trembling as brilliant sparks raced along her nerves, mingling with the dancing lightning of his own release. Vitale roared, experiencing both their climaxes so intensely it was almost painful.

As the feeling faded, he removed himself gently from her folds, rolling onto his back on the roof. Ysa took a shuddering breath. "I couldfeel you. You were inside me, weren't you? Touching me... somehow."

Vitale nodded, staring at the starry sky.

"Could you do this... before?"

He shook his head. "No. It is one of the G.o.ddess's gifts."

"Mmmm." Ysa stretched, sounding almost like a purring cat. "I like it." She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at him. "Have you forgiven me, Vitale? Will we be together now?"

Vitale stared into her sparkling eyes, but then looked away. He kept seeing the image of Pan's c.o.c.k buried between her smooth cheeks. Anger and pain washed over him.

Ysa reached out, caressing his chest tentatively. "I --" She swallowed, silent for a moment. "I never let him touch the part of me you have just touched, Vitale. That is why we were doing... the other."

The moment she said it, he knew she was lying. His senses still lightly entwined with her body, he saw in her mind a brief image of Pan, his hand between her legs, fingers tracing the edge of her lips as she shivered with pleasure. But he also felt her guilt. She had truly intended to save herself for him, and a hard kernel of hatred nested inside her -- hatred for what she'd done, how she had failed him.

Vitale drew her into his arms. "I love you, Ysa."

With a startled exclamation, she flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest, hot tears streaming. He patted her back awkwardly. "It's all right, Ysa. It's all right, my love."

When her sobbing had stopped, he grasped her shoulders, raising her up so that he could look into her eyes.

"We must find a place, somewhere outside the city, where you will be safe during the day while I am stone, and where we can be together at night."

"But... I have no money."

Vitale frowned. He stayed silent for a long time, thinking. He hated to say it, but there was no other way. "You must stay with Pan a few more days. I have something I must do for the G.o.ddess, but when it is finished, I will return to Orphieto. I have gold and other things hidden there. My father insisted on it, in case the balance of power shifted and we were forced to run."