Belladonna (15 page)

Falco signaled the barkeep, who brought over two mugs of ale. He dropped a pair of copper pieces in the man’s hand.

Cass sat down, trying not to notice the way Falco’s hair fell perfectly over one of his brilliant blue eyes. “What are
you
doing here?” she asked.

“Remember how I told you I was hired on by a wealthy patron? She lives here, on the outskirts of Florence. She has commissioned me to do a piece of art for every room in her palazzo.” He smiled. “The work is mundane—portraits, rolling hills, more portraits—but she pays well and she knows everyone. I’m hoping that her friends will see my work and want to hire me on as well.”

Cass could hardly believe she and Falco had ended up in the same place by sheer accident.
Fate,
a voice whispered in her head. She ignored it. Her fate was to marry Luca.

“What is it, my starling?” Falco asked. “You look so worried.”

Cass spun her mug between two hands, watching as the froth clung to the side of the glass. “It’s Luca,” she confessed. “He’s in trouble.”

Falco’s eyes darkened at the mention of Cass’s fiancé, but he said nothing. Bit by bit, he coaxed the story out of her.

“Do you remember the flower from the ring outside Liviana’s tomb, the symbol from Angelo de Gradi’s workshop in the Castello district?” Cass asked. Of course he would. That horrid workshop. Dissected dogs pinned to tabletops. Body parts in neatly arranged tin basins. She would never forget a single detail of what was the most terrifying place she had ever encountered. “It’s scrawled all over the papers I found. I think Dubois is the head of a group called the Order of the Eternal Rose. There’s a book with records of things they’ve done. A book that will prove Dubois is evil. Luca believes it’s here in Florence, and that perhaps if I can find it, I can use it to procure his release from prison.”

Falco shrugged. “Well, you’re wrong about the head, unless there are multiple leaders. Signorina Briani, my patroness, is actually the head of a group called the Order of the Eternal Rose. I gather from her conversations that it’s a scientific society, a group for those who dare to oppose the teachings of the church.” He smiled wryly. “But Signorina Briani is no murderer, Cass. And from what I can tell, neither are any of the other members.”

Cass sucked in a sharp breath. Falco’s patroness was the head of the Order? If it were true, it would only make sense for Signorina Briani to have the book in her possession. Cass couldn’t believe her luck.
Fate.
Once again, the entire universe seemed to be aligning in a manner that brought her and Falco together. Either that or he had an uncanny ability to find his way straight to the heart of everything evil.

“Have you ever seen anything called the Book of the Eternal Rose?” she asked.

Falco drained his glass of ale and signaled for a refill. In the back of her mind, Cass knew she should be getting home, that sunrise was probably only an hour or two away, and that Madalena would assume Cass had been attacked by vampires if she was missing when the household awoke. But Cass needed to hear Falco’s answer. He could change everything. He might be the key to saving Luca.

“I’m not one for books,” Falco said. “But Signorina Briani must have at least a thousand. Her library is quite impressive, if you like that sort of thing.”

“Who are the other members of the Order?” Cass asked.

“I don’t know them by name.” Falco sipped his mug of ale. “The signorina invited a small group of men to the evening meal a few days ago. I was working close by, and I remember hearing them talk about the future of the Order.”

“What did they say?”

“Not much. They discussed some of da Vinci’s anatomical findings. I’m fairly certain they’re not killing anyone.” Falco smirked. “Unlike the Church, which has taken to killing women all over Florence. The priests claim people are being attacked by vampires.”

Cass shivered as she thought back to the three bodies lying beneath the unmarked ground just outside the city. She didn’t think it was right either, but she knew Falco would go on for hours about the evils of religion if she encouraged him. “It’s terrible,” she agreed. “But I need to know more about this Order. Do you think it would be possible for me to meet your patroness?” It occurred to her that although she did want to free Luca, Signorina Briani also might have known her parents, a thought that filled Cass with both excitement and dread.

“Are you trying to come home with me, Cassandra?” Falco asked. His smile curled playfully. “My lodgings are meager, but I could certainly find room for you in my bed. I suppose with your fiancé imprisoned you are officially a free woman, no?”

“No on both counts,” Cass said quickly, although privately she wasn’t sure. Did Luca’s sentence nullify their engagement agreement?

Falco pretended to be hurt. “And here I was going to invite you to be my guest at one of Signorina Briani’s famous parties,” he said. “But if you’d rather I ask another . . .”

“Falco,” Cass said, pushing her ale aside. “Stop playing. Luca is innocent of these crimes. If you refuse to help me and he is executed on false charges of heresy, you are no better than the Church you rail against. I need to find the Book of the Eternal Rose. I need your help.”

Falco reached out to touch her face again. His fingertips traced their way across the freckles on her cheeks. “All right. Anything for you.” He lifted her hands to his lips again, kissing her palms and her wrists. Cass tensed. Falco let her hands fall back to her sides. “I’m sorry, starling, but I haven’t seen you in weeks,” he said. “I’m trying to control myself. I’d better take you home now.”

Cass took Falco’s arm as he led her out the door and into the complex network of streets and alleys. She could smell the Arno River, but she couldn’t see it. Falco walked briskly. Unburdened by the tall chopines she had to wear in the damp streets of Venice, Cass had no trouble keeping up with him.

This was how they would walk, she thought, if they were husband and wife. She realized anyone who saw them on the street would assume exactly that. She blushed, feeling guilty for even thinking such a thing. Luca was in prison, his survival depending on her, and she could think of nothing but betraying him yet again.

The jangle of bells and clatter of hooves cut through her thoughts. Falco whisked her sharply out of the street as a carriage clattered by, accompanied by several mounted riders.

“Where are so many people going so late?” she asked.

“I think you mean so
early,
” Falco said.

Santo cielo.
He was right. The sky had already started to lighten.

She feared Madalena would discover her absence and call the
rettori
before she made it home. They turned a corner, and then another. The area began to look familiar.

Cass pointed toward the entrance to the piazza. “Palazzo Alioni is just across the way.” She dropped Falco’s arm. “I can make it alone from here.”

Falco cocked his head to the side. His eyes sparkled. “Are you afraid of being seen with me?”

“No,” Cass said, a little too loudly. He was wearing down her resolve, and that just wouldn’t do. Besides, she needed to compose herself before attempting to sneak back in. “I just don’t want to wake anyone.”

“Fair enough.” Falco pulled her closer to him. “But know that I’ll be watching you all the way to the door, so there’s no danger of you being abducted.” He scooped Cass suddenly into his arms and spun both of them around in a circle. “By anyone but me, that is.”

Cass gave in to giggling. She couldn’t help it. Everything seemed less frightening now that she was home and Falco was with her. “Put me down,” she said. “You’re going to wake up the entire block.”

Falco lowered her to the ground, but he kept his arms around her waist. “I may not be able to give you diamonds yet, Cassandra, but I do have something for you.”

“Oh really?” Cass asked, suddenly breathless.

He nodded, his face as serious as stone. “Close your eyes,” he commanded.

“Falco,” Cass protested. “I really need to—” She knew she should pull away from his touch. But she couldn’t.

“Close your eyes or I
will
wake the entire block.” He cleared his throat as if to scream.

Cass closed her eyes. It would be fine. What harm could one little . . . ?

Her brain didn’t even get to finish the thought. Her body caught fire and her knees buckled as Falco pressed his lips to hers. He lifted her off the ground. She was weightless. She was floating. No, flying. Falco supported her back against the marble wall of the nearest palazzo. A soft sigh escaped his lips. The warm breath tickled Cass’s chin. The desire that had bloomed inside of her when she saw him became an entire garden of roses, wild and warm, twining through every part of her soul.

She gave in, pulling him close, tangling her hands in his hair, tasting his skin and his lips and his tongue. She expected him to taste like ale, but he just tasted warm, like summer and sunrise. And happiness. Happiness Cass hadn’t felt in weeks. And in that moment she knew that she would go home with him, that she would give in. She would let him return her to his meager lodgings and undress her, and their bodies would flow together like rivers.

But then, out of nowhere, an image flashed: Hortensa Zanotta and the blond man circling each other. Hortensa’s knees going weak, her slender frame crumpling to the floor. Cass pulled away. Her mouth, her whole body, was still on fire. “Stop.” The word came out choked, like a whisper. “We can’t.” Cass felt suddenly, inexplicably, like she was going to cry.

“I know,” Falco said. “I’m sorry.” He raked both hands through his hair in frustration.

Cass shook her head. “I don’t understand how you can affect me in such a way.” If she hadn’t pulled away when she had, she might have let him lay her down right there on the stone walkway. It was madness.

Falco’s eyes softened. “I don’t understand it either.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I think nature is more powerful than I give her credit for. Perhaps the stars brought us back together after we went our separate ways. Like maybe the world has plans for us.” He looked down at the ground for a moment.

Cass didn’t speak. She was afraid of what she might say.

Falco leaned in and brushed his lips across her cheek. “Go on.” He pointed to a glimmer of gold low on the horizon. “The sun will be rising soon.”

Cass didn’t sleep. She couldn’t. She just sat at her washing table, journal open in front of her, pages blank. She watched the sun creep through the latched shutters and burn away the darkness. Falco’s kiss held fast to her lips. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Guilt gnawed at her. The Virgin Mary stared down from the painting behind the bed. Cass padded across the room and lowered the attached veil over the Virgin’s face. It helped somewhat, but not much. There was no veil she could lower over her thoughts of Luca.

Her fiancé had spent the night alone, in a cramped cell, possibly being starved or tortured while Cass had been drinking ale with Falco.

Kissing Falco.

What was the matter with her?

She laid her head down on the table and let the smooth wood cool her flushed cheeks. She didn’t know why the mere sight of Falco could cause her to lose track of everything that was important. Was it love or was it madness? Was there any difference between the two? She thought about what Falco had said, how he thought perhaps the stars had brought the two of them together for a purpose. She’d had the same thoughts herself, about fate, but she knew Falco didn’t believe in that.

She wondered what Luca believed. He was a good Catholic. “A good man,” Agnese always said. Did Cass affect Luca the way Falco affected her? And if not, would Luca be better off with someone else?

Cass sighed. She was making excuses, trying to justify what had happened. Her head was beginning to throb. She ought to lie down for a few hours, but she could already hear the servants moving throughout the house. She couldn’t go to bed now. It would raise questions. Better just to stay up.

Cass opened the shutters. The early-morning sun shone brighter than it ever did on San Domenico.

A group of men were erecting something in the piazza. She watched as they assembled a series of logs and stones into a crude platform. Two priests in black robes and skullcaps stood beneath the archway, observing the proceedings with interest. A pair of men with worn, pockmarked faces carried a large tin basin across the square and hoisted it onto the platform.

Someone knocked on the door. Probably Siena coming to assist her in getting dressed. Cass swore under her breath. How was she supposed to explain still being dressed in yesterday’s gown? Another knock. “Come in, Siena,” Cass said.

“It’s not Siena, silly. It’s me.” Madalena crept into the room with a tray of cheese and fruit. Luckily, Mada didn’t seem to notice that Cass had on the same clothing she had worn the day before.

“I was waiting for Siena,” Cass said quickly. “Have you seen her?”

“She and Feliciana are doing some mending upstairs. Do you need her immediately? I thought we could share a bit of breakfast.” Mada looked apologetically at the tray. “It isn’t much.”

“It’s fine.” Cass picked at a bundle of grapes while Madalena chattered about what she hoped to do later in the day.

“Marco and I spent the whole afternoon and evening together yesterday,” Madalena said. “Sorry to abandon you in the piazza. Did you have any luck finding Hortensa?”

“No.” Cass didn’t elaborate.

“Your skin is glowing,” Mada said suddenly. “The air of Florence is already doing wonders for your complexion.”

Cass had a feeling it was some combination of guilt and desire, not the air, that was making her glow. She practically smoldered when she thought of Falco’s soft touch, of the way his lips felt against hers. How easy it would have been to follow him home and spend the night in his arms.