Venom (50 page)

C
ass took a deep breath to steady herself, then passed into the arched corridor. She needed to find Luca. She just wanted to go home, to be away from the madness. To think. The celebration raged on beneath her. She could see her fiancé winding his way through the crowd. She met him at the landing of the stairs.

“The doctor is on his way up,” Luca said.

Cass shook her head. “Please—I just want to return to the villa. Perhaps Aunt Agnese’s physician…” She trailed off. She didn’t want to see
him
either. Him and his leeches. She just wanted to crawl into her bed and curl up next to Slipper. If she slept for a few hours, or maybe a few years, everything would start to feel normal again.

“You do seem steadier on your feet,” Luca said. “Maybe that wine helped soothe your nerves.”

Cass thought of the glasses of wine, both abandoned on the desk in the study. It wasn’t wine that had soothed her nerves. It was Falco. Just thinking of him made her insides hurt.

“Perhaps.” She smiled tightly.

Luca and Cass found Agnese and the servants still in the portego.
Her aunt was pacing back and forth with Narissa at her elbow, doing her best to stabilize the old woman’s wobbly gait.

“Cassandra.
Santo cielo.
” Agnese hobbled immediately to Cass’s side. She raised her twisted, swollen fingers to Cass’s face. “Are you all right? I can barely believe the stories I’ve been hearing.”

Cass was comforted by her aunt’s cool touch. “I’m all right. I just want to go home.” She had resisted thinking of her aunt’s villa on San Domenico as home for as long as she could remember, but now she could think of nowhere else she’d rather be.

Agnese frowned. “This criminal. Was he apprehended?”

“We’re not certain,” Luca said, looping his arm protectively around Cass’s elbow.

Across the room, a flash of dazzling blue caught Cass’s eye. Madalena stood next to the head table, a glass of wine in her pale fingertips. Her mouth dropped when she saw Cass, and she turned away from one of her father’s friends to begin making her way across the room.

Cass unsnaked her arm from Luca’s and hurried toward her best friend. The two girls met in the center of the portego. Madalena threw her arms around Cass’s neck, wrapping her in a fierce embrace. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” Mada said. “I can’t believe you got attacked. What were you doing in my father’s wine room, anyway?”

“You know me,” Cass said, pulling back so that she didn’t get blood on Mada’s gown. “I have a tendency to wander off and find trouble.” She wanted to tell her friend the whole story, but today was Mada’s special day. Cass didn’t want to disrupt it any more than she already had. “In fact I was searching for you. Where did you disappear to at the beginning of the feast?”

Madalena’s brown eyes widened. “I think you’re the only one who even noticed I was gone. I was in my bedchamber having Eva redo my hair, because it had gotten mussed on the walk through the streets. But then Marco knocked at the door.” Madalena’s alabaster skin flushed with joy. “I sent Eva away…” Her voice trailed off. She winked at Cass.

Cass raised a hand to her mouth. “You mean you—”

“Do you know how long we waited for this day to come?” Mada grinned. “We simply could
not
wait another moment.”

Behind Madalena, Cass saw Donna Domacetti pushing her way through the crowded portego. Cass had no desire to be grilled about her ordeal so that woman could provide all of Venice with the gory details. “So while I was desperately searching for you, you and Marco were in your bed together.” Cass laughed. “I hope it was magnificent at least.”

Mada leaned close to whisper in Cass’s ear. “It was life-changing,” she said.

That seemed to be the theme for the day.

Luca,
Agnese, and the servants stood at the top of the grand staircase, waiting for Cass and Mada to finish talking. Cass kissed Madalena on the cheek. “That menace Donna Domacetti is approaching from behind you. Distract her for me.”

Cass headed down the stairs with the others. Behind her, she heard Donna Domacetti pull Madalena across the room to a table of Venetian socialites. “Now, these are some women you absolutely must get to know,” the obese woman lectured. Cass smiled again. Everything was as it should be.

As they exited the palazzo, Luca flagged down a gondolier while Agnese and the servants formed a protective cocoon around Cass. For the first time in a long time, Cass felt completely engulfed by family. If she ran away with Falco, she would lose all of that. She knew she loved him, but was love reason enough to betray Luca and hurt Agnese?

A sharp rain began to fall as Luca helped the three women into the boat. Cass and Agnese settled in beneath the felze. Droplets splattered against Cass’s cheeks, stinging her exposed skin. She turned her face toward the storm. The pain felt cleansing.

Siena huddled close to Cass, deliberately avoiding turning her eyes to Luca for even a second. “I was so worried about you,” she said, in a whisper. She looked as pale as Cass had ever seen her.

Cass reached out and squeezed her hand. Siena had her own secrets, but she was a faithful friend. She must have been terrified when she heard that Cass had been attacked.
You need always consider how your actions might affect others.
Cass had thought of Agnese as merely strict, but she was beginning to realize that the old woman’s lectures were born of love, and wisdom—not just general grumpiness.

“I should have known if there was trouble that you would find it, Cassandra. You’re very like your parents in that way.” It was almost as if Agnese had read her mind. Cass watched the raindrops ping against the tiny waves as the gondola left the Grand Canal and entered the lagoon.

Agnese wasn’t finished. She turned her attentions to Luca. “And you, Luca da Peraga. If you hope to make Cassandra your bride, you’ll have to learn to keep a much tighter rein on her.”

Luca’s cheeks colored slightly as he shifted in the gondola. “
Mi dispiace,
Signora Querini,” he said. “But you speak of your niece as
if she’s a horse instead of a beautiful young woman.” Luca dared to flash Cass a quick half smile.

She smiled back. Luca’s willingness to defend her to her aunt made her feel as warm, as comforted, as his heroics in the wine room.

Agnese harrumphed. “If I speak of her as an animal, it is because her antics are positively uncivilized at times.” Then her voice softened. “Perhaps I am too hard on you, Cassandra. But please keep in mind that you are all that I have left.”

Cass stared down at the bottom of the boat. She often thought about how Agnese was her only true family, but rarely stopped to think that the reverse was also true. “
Mi dispiace,
” Cass said, feeling a swell of relief as the distant shore of San Domenico came into view.

Agnese reached out to squeeze her hand. “Let us just thank God that everything ended as it did.”

Except that it wasn’t over, and Cass knew it.

The next day, Cass and Luca took a stroll around the tiny island of San Domenico. Cass was surprised to discover that she liked the feel of Luca’s arm in hers, the way he guided her around puddles and cracks in the walkway. Women glanced at the two of them as they strolled by, likely envious of Cass. She saw Luca as they must see him: tall, handsome, affectionate. It felt good to be able to be out in public with a man, to be able to laugh and talk without having to worry about who was watching.

They passed in front of Il Mar e la Spada, the little taverna that Falco and his friends liked to frequent. She thought about her nights with Falco: how intense and scary they had been, but how alive she had felt through it all. Would she feel that with Luca? She wasn’t sure.

Over time, would she feel something even better? It would be
different. Tempered. But maybe that was what Cass needed—someone to complement her impulsive nature, someone who would give her calm and stability.

They made it past all of the buildings to the shoreline. Luca turned to Cass.

“Have you heard of the Order of the Eternal Rose?” he asked, with a sudden urgency in his voice.

Cass looked at him curiously. “No. I don’t know what that is.”

Rather than explain himself, Luca let out a breath and shook his head. “Never mind. It’s nothing. I just…I don’t know where to start. My behavior since returning to Venice may have seemed strange to you,” he said. “I—I wanted the opportunity to explain. A few weeks ago, I received a letter from Cristian. I hadn’t heard from him in years. I confess I was hoping he had been killed in the war. He wrote that he had heard of my upcoming nuptials, but warned me that he would see to it that I never received my anticipated happiness.” Luca glanced away, squinting in the sunlight reflecting off the lagoon. “I had no doubt he was on the lookout for you. He had taken someone I loved before; he would not hesitate to do it again.”

Cass’s heart began beating high in her throat. “What do you mean?”

Luca was silent for a few moments, and Cass was worried he would refuse to say any more. But finally, he started speaking again. “My parents used to take my sister and me to Piazza San Marco quite often. Diana used to love the square. She could watch the jugglers and conjurers for hours. She never tired of looking through the jewelry and trinkets that the foreign merchants were hawking.”

He exhaled slowly. Cass slipped her fingers inside of his. “My sister was only seven when she died—when Cristian killed her. Her
body floated up in a canal; they called it an accident, but I knew better. Diana wouldn’t have drowned in a canal. She had learned to swim in a lake near our estate on the mainland. She was unusual. If she had lived, I think the two of you might have become quite good friends.”

Cass felt guilt prickling inside of her. Poor Luca. He had endured such sadness. And there was so much about him that she didn’t know—that she had never cared to know.

“When I got your aunt’s letter about planning the betrothal ceremony, it seemed like perfect timing,” Luca continued. “It would give me an excuse to return to Venice and find Cristian before he could find you. I was hoping he was just trying to scare me. When I caught that boy prowling around Agnese’s front lawn, I thought that Cristian had sent him as a spy.”

Paolo. So Luca had no idea Cass had been running around with Falco. The guilty feelings poked her a little harder. Luca would never know of her affair—as long as her journal remained missing. Cass wondered if Cristian had taken it with him. If he would bide his time and then send the incriminating pages one by one in the days that led up to her wedding. Pain seized her at the thought. She stopped. Breathed. Waited for the sensation to pass.

Luca wrapped an arm around her protectively. Cass inhaled the scent of pine and citrus from his skin and clothing. “Would you like to rest?” he asked. “I know all of this must come as a shock to you.”

“No, go on,” Cass said, swallowing back the feeling that she might cry. She didn’t deserve Luca. He was too good for her.

“When I heard about the murdered servant, I was more convinced than ever that my half brother
was
in Venice. I was terrified he would approach you, that he would try to—” Luca shuddered.

Cass remembered how Cristian had approached her at the brothel, how he had pretended to buy her for the evening. What might have happened if Falco hadn’t intervened?

“It wasn’t until the art exhibition that I knew for certain. Cristian’s signature was in the guest book above your own. One of his paintings reminded me of a woman who occasionally called upon my father. I believe it may have been Cristian’s own mother.” Luca shook his head. He added, more gently, “I’m sorry if I was ever harsh with you. I wanted to protect you. I should have told you about Cristian. But I thought you might be safer if you remained ignorant. And I also felt—” He stopped abruptly.

“What?” she prompted him. Was that who
R
was—the final
Fallen Ones
portrait? Cass was reeling from the thought of Cristian killing his own mother, but she remembered the hateful way he had called her a whore. Maybe Cristian had seen his mother with a man when he was younger, and something inside of him had snapped.

Luca rubbed his forehead. “Cristian is only my half brother,” he said. “He will never have any piece of my estate. That’s partly why he hates me. Even so…I was worried that if you knew about him, you’d be afraid to marry me.”

“Luca.” Cass squeezed his hand softly. “I have no right to judge you.”

“Well, it isn’t like you’ve seemed too keen on our betrothal anyway,” Luca said, staring off into the distance.

Cass stopped. She looked out over the lagoon. The sun was just beginning to set, painting the sky a mix of reds and oranges. Cass remembered wishing she could escape San Domenico. Now the warm colors weaved around her like a blanket. For once, she didn’t
want to swim away into the sea. “It isn’t that,” she said slowly. “It just took me by surprise. I wasn’t ready.”

Luca turned toward her. “What about now, Cassandra?” he asked, touching his hand to her left cheek, his other hand coming to rest on her slender waist. “Are you ready now? I must return to France to study. Come back with me. I can protect you. I will protect you. And I will try—I will do everything I can to make you happy.”