Belladonna

Cass fumbled for a reply. She almost spilled the story of what she had seen at Palazzo della Notte, but suddenly she felt ashamed. Perhaps she had stumbled into a fancy brothel. She didn’t want to tell Falco what she’d been doing, and what she’d seen.

He grinned. “Lured here by a dead body or a devastatingly handsome artist?” He pulled a dusty wooden chair from beneath the table. “Sit down. Have a drink. I promise to escort you safely back to your satin sheets once we’ve gotten reacquainted.”

Before she could speak, Falco’s eyes settled on the diamond pendant that had worked its way out from beneath her bodice. His face tightened. He reached toward Cass’s throat, but stopped just short of making contact. “Or maybe your husband is expecting you home,” he said, bringing his hand quickly to his side. “Enjoying all the trappings of married life, are you?”

“I’m not married,” Cass said sharply, tucking the lily safely away beneath her high lace collar. “And Luca’s not in Florence with me.”

Falco relaxed visibly, although he didn’t smile. “Then I insist on buying the beautiful signorina a drink.”

Cass realized she shouldn’t have accompanied Falco to the taverna. Every second she spent alone with him, well . . . complicated matters. And Cass’s life was already complicated. Then again, what harm would one drink do? She had a thousand questions for Falco: how he came to be in Florence, and what he thought about the threats of vampirism. Perhaps he had seen Hortensa around the city, or had heard of the Order of the Eternal Rose. Freeing Luca was going to require all the help she could get.

“Just one drink,” Cass relented. She tried to keep her face neutral so Falco wouldn’t know how happy she was just to be in his company.

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 fiance, 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 fiance 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.