Starling (144 page)

reaching out to grab her hair or gown. She needed a weapon, and
quickly.
The kitchen—it’d be full of knives and probably empty since dinner had already been served. Once and for all, Cass would end this.
End
him.
She had no other option. As she slammed the front door behind
her, Cristian managed to get the toe of his leather boot inside. His
shaking fingers curled their way inside the crack, skittering along the
door frame like a poisonous spider. Cass spun and raced down the
dark corridor, throwing anything she could find—lanterns, an unlit
torch, a small painting—behind her in a futile attempt to hinder Cristian’s progress.
She plunged into the kitchen and was halfway to the knife rack on
the far end of the counter before her brain registered that the room
wasn’t empty. There were two servants washing dishes.
“Get out of here,” Cass yelled. They both turned to stare in
amazement. She imagined what she must look like—wide-eyed, redfaced, soggy hem leaving a dirty trail across the stone floor. “Move!”
She reached for the closest knife. But just as Cass’s hand closed
around the handle, Cristian’s hand closed around one of the servants. The girl’s name was Flora. She had started working for Agnese
less than a year earlier. Dragging her into the center of the room, he
held his dagger against Flora’s throat.
Cass swallowed back a whimper. For a moment, her hands began
to shake and the knife blade fluttered in the air. She fought the urge
to panic. “Let her go.” The words came out strong and clear. “Don’t
do this. It’s me you want.”
Cristian laughed, an ugly, brittle sound that made Cass’s insides
twist. “I want both you and my brother. I shall watch both of you
die.”
“You cannot—”
“Stop speaking!” Cristian shouted. His body coiled; his muscles
tensed. A single bloody teardrop bloomed on Flora’s neck. “Drop
the knife or I will slice her head from her body.”
Cass and the other servant, Gemma, were pinned against the far
counter. Cass tried not to stare at the blade digging into Flora’s alabaster skin, at the thin, red rivulet that had trickled down and soaked
into her collar.
The room sharpened into focus as Cass debated her options. If
she tried to get past Cristian, he’d spill Flora’s blood all over the
stone floor. Next to her, Gemma’s breath had gone high-pitched and
wheezy, like she was in danger of having some sort of attack.
“Don’t hurt me,” Flora begged. Her body sagged backward
against Cristian. Her face was a mask of panic.
“It’s all right,” Cass said. Slowly, she lowered the knife to the
ground.
“Kick it over here,” Cristian said.
Cass kicked the knife in his direction. Gemma and Flora were
both crying now, the former big choking sobs and the latter a wave of
silent tears. The warm air went cool and silent as Cass waited to see
what Cristian would do next.
“You’re going to come with me, Cassandra.” Cristian began dragging Flora toward the back door. “We’ll go out this way and get back
into the gondola.”
She nodded. She had no intention of going anywhere with Cristian, but too many young women had died by his hands already. She