Starling (63 page)

lowered her body to the damp ground. She needed to rest. Perhaps
things would be clearer in the morning.
Her feet were clammy from her drenched shoes, and the wet
stones soaked through the fabric of her skirts and bodice, but Cass
barely felt any of it. She was emotionally drained from her fight with
Falco and physically drained from her fight with Piero. Sleep came
easily.

The sun had lifted from the horizon, but it was still early when Cass
awoke to a pair of round faces bending over her. As she sat up quickly,
her fingers going to the hilt of her knife, she realized they were just
children—a girl and a boy. The girl’s hair dangled low to her shoulders, and the boy had his hair tucked beneath a bright red cap. The
girl said something in a language Cass didn’t understand, and both
children giggled.

She unfolded her body and sat up slowly, her muscles aching from
sleeping on the ground. She rubbed her shoulder. The children
watched her carefully, as if she were an unusual animal they had
never before encountered.

The children giggled again. A woman’s face poked out of a high
window in the next building. She shouted something and the girl’s
eyes widened. She grabbed the boy’s hand and they both scampered
off.

Both Cass and the woman watched the children until they turned
a corner out of sight. Then the woman looked at Cass. “You do not
belong here,” she said. She ducked her head back inside the building
and pulled the shutters closed with a vicious yank.
Scurrying down a block, Cass took refuge in another empty doorway. Two threadbare chemises and a plain woolen cloak flapped on
a clothesline stretched between a pair of second-story windows.
Looking both ways to make sure she was alone, she jumped and managed to grab hold of the cloak’s tail. She slipped it around her shoulders, feeling slightly guilty as she did so. A month ago, she’d wanted
for nothing. Now she was stealing garments from the Jews. But at
least she had a way to hide her face.

She lifted the hood up over her head. Now what? For a moment,
frustration overwhelmed Cass and she toyed with the idea of just
giving up—running away. Running would require sneaking back to
San Domenico and helping herself to—stealing, really—the crate of
gold and jewels. With that, she could pay her way to escape across the
sea to a place where the Order of the Eternal Rose would be just a
distant memory. Forget Luca. Forget Falco. If she wanted, Cass
could start over. She could become someone else.

But as much as she knew she had made some bad choices, she
didn’t want to become someone else. She wanted to fight the Order.
She wanted to understand her parents’ roles and honor their memory.

Cass
needed
the Book of the Eternal Rose. It would show that the
Order had stolen blood and allowed innocent girls be executed as
vampires. It would show that Dubois and Belladonna, among others,
were striving for immortality. Engaging in conspiracy. Murder. Heresy. Proof of their actions would be enough to have both of them
executed several times over.

Unfortunately, Cass didn’t know who had the book. She had seen
Angelo de Gradi in Florence. He could have stolen the book as Bel