Venom_ARC448_FM8.indd

by Venom (mobi)

  Cass steadied herself against a countertop. "What are you talking about? What kidnapper?"

  "One of the servants from Signor Dubois's estate," Siena said. "Feliciana told me. Her name was Sophia. She disappeared right out of her room last night. She didn't leave on her own. All of her belongings are still there."

  Cass and Falco exchanged a look. The disappearance was probably a coincidence, but still. "Did someone call the town guard?" Cass asked.

  "Of course. A waste of everybody's time," Siena sniffed. "Showed up half drunk after dinner. Only spent five minutes in Sophia's room. Some of the other girls said Sophia had been ill in the mornings recently, maybe with child." Siena stuttered a little bit over the last words, her eyes flitting to Falco. "They didn't investigate any further. Figured her for a runaway. Said the rettori wouldn't care about a runaway servant."

  Falco gave Cass a knowing look. "What did I tell you? If the councilmen won't properly investigate a servant's disappearance from one of the most well-known estates in Venice, they surely won't waste their time on a common prostitute—or, at best, a brand new courtesan."

  "Courtesan?" Siena looked back and forth from Cass to Falco. "Has a courtesan gone missing?"

  Before Cass could respond, a plaintive yowl echoed through the drafty kitchen. It seemed to be coming from the direction of the entrance hall.

  "Slipper?" Cass turned toward the noise.

  "I'll fetch him, Signorina." Siena scooted past Falco and into the corridor that led to the front of the villa.

  "We should tell her," Cass whispered, once Siena had disappeared.

  "What reason do we have to tell anyone? I'm still wishing you hadn't told me."

  "She might be able to help," Cass said in a low voice. "When it comes to the goings-on of Venice, the servants know almost as much as the Senate. Maybe more." She craned her neck to peer through the doorway. The dark had seemingly swallowed Siena whole. "And, if we don't tell her, she's going to think you and I are . . ."

  Falco smirked. "We couldn't have that now, could we? Lord knows I don't want to give the woman reason to attack me again." He touched the crown of his head gingerly and winced. "But what makes you think we can trust her?"

  Cass had to look away when Falco took God's name in vain. How could he do that so casually? Her fingers went to her waist, but she'd already removed her rosary for the night. She'd say a prayer for him later, she decided. "She covered for me last night. She didn't tell Agnese I'd snuck out."

  A smile played at Falco's lips. He brushed an unruly lock of Cass's hair back from the left side of her face. "How did you manage to get caught in the first place?" he asked.

  "Long story." Cass still hadn't found his nude drawing, and she didn't want to confess to having lost it. She hoped it would turn up before Agnese got back. If the old woman found it, she might keel over on the spot.

  Siena returned with Slipper cradled against her chest. "The silly cat managed to get his head caught between two of the posts on the banister again," she explained. "Probably scared himself half to death."

  Cass took Slipper into her arms. "Poor thing." She rubbed his neck and he began to purr.

  Falco reached out to touch the white spot between Slipper's green eyes. "Mangy beast," he said. He nodded toward Sienna. "Tell her what you want to tell her then, Cass."

  Cass gave Siena a quick summary of what she and Falco had discovered at the graveyard. The maid's eyes got bigger and bigger as Cass relayed finding the open crypt door and the body, and then receiving the note. "But Signorina Cass, you might be in danger!"

  "That's why we're going to figure out who's responsible," Cass said, with more confidence than she felt.

  "Speaking of which . . ." Falco nodded at the costume bag that Cass had completely forgotten. A silky garment, trimmed with lace and beaded elaborately, had fallen out during the scuffle.

  Siena looked down, and even in the flickering light, Cass could see that her pale skin went bright pink. The lady's maid knelt to retrieve the outfit, a low-cut satin chemise. She pressed the clothing into Cass's hands without meeting her eyes.

  Cass felt her own face get red. "It's—it's just a costume. We're going to try to locate some of the dead girl's patrons."

  "You mean you're going to masquerade as a . . ." The shy maid couldn't choke out the rest.

  "Hired woman," Cass confirmed, wondering if it would have been easier just to let Siena believe that she and Falco had met up for a tryst. She wasn't sure which would have been more scandalizing. "I know it's dangerous, but it's more dangerous to do nothing while a madman plots against me. And Falco will be by my side the whole time. Please don't tell my aunt."

  Siena didn't say anything for a minute. She looked back and forth from Cass to Falco. Finally, she nodded. And then, to Cass's amazement, her red face lit up with a huge smile. "You'll need me to do your hair, Signorina."

  "Hair?" Cass wasn't sure she had heard correctly. "What are you talking about?"

  "Your hair and your makeup." Siena reached out to stroke Cass's thick hair. "Otherwise, no one will believe you are anything other than a noblewoman. I'll put the sides in braids, and twist the back into a knot."

  Falco nodded approvingly at Siena. "Excellent idea. We want to make sure everyone can see that beautiful face tonight."

  Cass thought her skin might turn permanently red if she continued blushing. She led Falco into the portego, lighting a pair of tall red candles so that Falco could see to move about the room. "Wait here," she said firmly. "And don't break anything. Oh, and don't touch the harp. My aunt cares more about that thing than about her own pulse."

  In her bedroom, Cass was surprised by how fun Siena seemed to find the whole adventure. Maybe the girl had a wild side after all. Siena pulled Cass's stays extra tight and slid the shiny teal bodice over her head. Black lace highlighted sheer sleeves, and the neckline plunged so low that the tops of Cass's breasts threatened to spill out. The skirt was made of alternating layers of black silk and shimmery turquoise material. Cass tried to adjust the top for better coverage and Siena laughed.

  "You're not going to fool anyone if you don't act the part," Siena said. She grabbed an ivory comb and parted Cass's hair. She fashioned it quickly into delicate fishbone braids and wrapped them around the back of Cass's head. "Now makeup!" Siena left Cass in front of the mirror and returned with a small black satchel. From it she produced crystal containers of lip color, eye color, and cheek rouge made from powdered minerals and crushed rose petals.

  "Where did you get all this?" Cass asked.

  "From Feliciana. She gave me some of her old things when she moved to the Dubois estate."

  "So why don't you ever wear it?" Cass closed her eyes as her lady's maid painted her lids with smoky gray color.

  "It wouldn't be appropriate for someone like me," Siena said. Now it was her turn to blush. Cass knew she meant it wouldn't be appropriate for someone of her station.

  Cass tried to hold her mouth still as Siena started rubbing a glossy red crème on her lips. "But I wouldn't care," she said, through barely parted lips. She could not necessarily say the same of Agnese—but still, Siena was meant to be Cass's companion.

  "Maybe not, but it would be foolish of me to masquerade as my sister," Siena said simply. "I am not beautiful like her."

  Cass waited for Siena to finish coloring her lips before responding. "You are beautiful," she said. It was true. Siena's features weren't quite as striking as her older sister's, and sure, her ears were a little big for her face, but she had perfect alabaster skin and shiny flaxen hair. It occurred to Cass that Siena must feel the same way about Feliciana that Cass often felt about Madalena. Like she just didn't measure up.

  Siena smiled shyly. "Thank you, Signorina. You are very kind." She placed a glass stopper back on a tiny circular pot. "All finished. Don't look, though. You and your man must be surprised together."

  "Siena," Cass cautioned quickly. "He is not my man."

  "If he looked at me the wa
y he looks at you, I would not be so quick to denounce him," Siena teased, her eyes brightening in a way that reminded Cass quite a bit of Feliciana. She stepped back from Cass and gave a satisfied nod. "And now—for me. Shall I change into something more revealing as well?"

  Cass realized that Siena intended to accompany her. "I—I think it's better if Falco and I go off on our own."

  Siena's flawless skin paled. "Unchaperoned? But that's unacceptable. If your aunt found out, she'd run me out of the villa, if she didn't kill me first."

  So true. Cass could just hear Agnese shrieking about what Matteo would think. "She won't find out," Cass promised. "She'll be gone for days. And I won't make a very realistic prostitute with a maidservant in tow." Cass didn't bother to point out that of all the rules she might break that evening, departing with Falco unchaperoned was the very least of them.

  Siena agreed reluctantly, but her good mood had vanished. She led Cass back to the portego, to where Falco waited. A slow smile spread over the boy's face.

  "Almost perfect," he murmured. He bent down and gave the seam of Cass's dress a yank. Cass yelped. The shiny fabric slit up the side so that a hint of her shapely calf peeped out. "Now it's perfect."

  Cass glared at him. Siena gasped, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Please be careful," she begged. "Your aunt would never forgive me . . ."

  Falco flashed his dazzling smile at the lady's maid. "Nothing bad will happen to her. You have my word."

  Cass bent close to Siena and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Leave the door unlocked for me, will you?"

  Cass and Falco descended the stairs to the entrance hall. Siena followed behind them, clutching a candle in her hand. Cass turned toward the large mirror that hung behind the side table. In the flickering candlelight, her reflection looked filmy and unreal. Ethereal. The skirt filled out her slim hips. The low-cut bodice combined with the extra-tight stays gave her curves she didn't even know were possible. Soft curls of her hair dangled against her long neck, but the bulk of it was swept out of her face by Siena's braids. Cass lifted a hand to her face. Could her cheekbones really be that defined? And her eyes—they had never looked bigger.

  A flash of ivory in the lower corner of the mirror caught her eye. Luca's letter, still unopened. She frowned for just an instant. She'd read it tomorrow for certain. Looking up again, she smiled at Falco's reflection.

  "Ready?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  She responded with a nod. And the girl in the mirror—that beautiful, smoky apparition—nodded too. Cass had never felt more alive. Siena draped Cass's velvet cloak around her shoulders and Falco took her arm. "Where's your lantern?" Cass asked. Falco stopped just inside the front door. "I've got eyes like a cat," he said. "I usually go without. But you're right. Tonight we should bring one."

  Cass thought back to the fuzzy yellow circle she'd seen moving among the gravestones. She had assumed it was Falco, and that he'd drunkenly set it aside somewhere . . . But apparently she'd been wrong. The light had belonged to someone else. A tremor raced through her body, causing her to shiver beneath the warm cloak. A stranger was prowling the shadows of San Domenico Island.

  Was he looking for her? If so, what did he want?

  And what would he do if he found her?

  9

  Cass huddled inside the felze as Falco navigated the gondola through canals that grew narrower with each turn. By the light of her lantern, she could just barely make out the dingy buildings packed tightly together, stucco chipping off to reveal crumbling gray bricks beneath. This area was just as seedy as the block in the Castello district where they had found the workshop full of horrors. As far as Cass could tell, it was also every bit as deserted. Above her head, fraying ropes ran across the canal, hung with threadbare chemises and woolen skirts.

  She kept thinking back to the light in the graveyard. It could have been anybody, she supposed, a grieving family member or even the chapel caretaker. Still, Cass couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. The canal water bubbled and hissed in places. She flinched at every dark misshapen shadow, half convinced the murderer was going to rise up alongside the boat and reach for her. Falco steered around another sharp corner, and Cass exhaled as a row of lanterns cut through the gloom.

  A boy sat near the edge of the canal, plucking out a slow, melodious song on a mahogany lute. Beyond the boy stood a plain three-story building with two pairs of shutters opened wide to the night. Inside each window, a girl about her own age danced to the sound of the lute. They twisted their sinuous bodies, their bodices cut so low, Cass swore she could see the crest of one girl's nipples peeking above the edge of her neckline.

  Both girls had their hair fashioned into thick cones atop their heads. It was a popular style, but in the faint light the writhing silhouettes reminded Cass of satyrs. Or devils. Cass watched as a man approached one of the windows. He said something to a girl with dark hair and thick crimson lips. The girl lifted her skirt and ran her hands over her slender hips. Cass tried to look away but couldn't. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, she could see that the girl was her age—perhaps even younger. The man ran his hand up one of the girl's pale legs and then tossed a coin through the window. Clapping her hands together, the girl hollered something after the man as he started to walk away.

  Falco rowed over to the bank of the canal, stopping just short of scraping against the stone retaining wall. He tied the boat to a wooden post and turned to give Cass his lopsided grin. "Ready?"

  "Here?" Cass began to shiver, even though the night air was balmy. Securing her cloak tightly around her body, she forced herself to stop staring at the girls in the windows. Beyond the edge of the canal, the system of alleyways brimmed with activity. So many people. Cass was seized by the irrational fear that she might run into someone who knew her.

  Falco raised an eyebrow. "This is one of the best spots for . . . ladies," he said. "Unless you have a better idea."

  Cass hesitated before stepping to the edge of the gondola, feeling that parading in front of all of those people would be impossible. "I just expected more . . . She fumbled for the right word. "Discretion."

  Falco raised an eyebrow. "What's to be discreet about?" He plucked the lantern from the gondola and let it dangle from his wrist as he held out his hands to help Cass out of the boat. "We're looking for the same thing as everyone else, right? A little fun."

  Cass gritted her teeth, already beginning to regret her decision to come. Her ankles threatened to give out as she maneuvered her dangerously tall chopines onto solid ground. As she clung to Falco's arm to prevent pitching right into the fetid canal water, she was acutely aware of a circle of boys staring at her. A sharp whistle sounded from somewhere back in the alley.

  Falco stopped. His eyes moved over Cass's body, lingering a little too long for her tastes.

  "What?" she asked coldly.

  "You should probably leave your cloak," he said.

  "Right." Cass fumbled with the clasp of her velvet cloak. She tossed it back into the gondola and then hugged her arms around herself to hide her shaking fingers. Immediately she felt the heat of more eyes. Above the dancing girls, she saw a pair of women hanging out of a window. They wore bright chemises with plunging necklines and had their hair elaborately fashioned. They giggled and waved when they saw Cass looking at them.

  Cass forced herself to uncross her arms. Like Siena said, she'd never be able to blend in if she didn't act the part.

  "Fondamenta delle tette" Falco announced, with a grand flourish. "Street of tits." The women giggled again and blew kisses in Falco's direction.

  Cass's blood thudded in her chest and her ears. "Remind me never to come back here," she said, trying to inject her voice with sarcasm. For a wild second she imagined she would jump back into the gondola and row herself away, all the way back to San Domenico. But instead, she turned a slow half circle at the edge of the canal, wrinkling her nose in what she hoped was disdain.

  Falco just lau
ghed and squeezed her hand. "Don't worry. You'll relax once we get where we're going."

  Falco steered Cass into the dimmer of the two alleyways. A haze of perfume and tobacco smoke hung thick in the air, its overpowering sweetness nearly making her gag. Beneath it lingered other scents, even more unpleasant, of sweat and urine. Bodies moved in all directions, pressing against Cass as she and Falco headed toward the end of the alley. She fought the urge to cry out as she was jostled from side to side by men and women in various states of intoxication. If Falco let go of her hand, the wild crowd would swallow her up.

  The music, the people, the bright colors, loud voices, and sharp smells—it made Cass's head pound, and reminded her, for no reason at all, of an exotic-animal exhibit Agnese allowed Feliciana to take her and Siena to when they were twelve. The older maid had promised ferocious lions and tigers, but there had been only a single lion, and all it did was lie prone inside the wheeled cage that held it prisoner. Cass had stood there, a little afraid but mostly just sad. When Feliciana disappeared into an alley with a muscular elephant trainer, Siena had watched from a distance as Cass wriggled her fingers through the bars to pet the poor beast's matted fur.

  Something sharp slashed at Cass's left arm and she cried out. Snapping her head around, she searched for her assailant, but the crowded alleyway blurred into a sea of arms and hands all reaching out toward her. She gasped, beginning to panic, struggling against the current of faceless flesh.

  "What? What is it?" Falco pulled her from the tangle of sweaty bodies and pressed her up against the side of a small bakery shop.

  Cass looked down at the sleeve of her teal chemise. Someone or something had sliced right through the silky fabric. Falco separated the torn material to examine Cass's skin beneath. He lifted her arm to show her the swollen pink line just below her elbow.