Starling (98 page)

horror at what she was wearing: a beautiful bronze-colored dress
with glittering metallic threads and a starched lace collar. It was her
wedding gown. Somehow, Cristian must have gotten it from Signor
Sesti, the tailor.
Cristian looked over at her when he heard her gasp, and smiled
widely. His right hand twitched against his lap. “Signorina Cassandra,” he said. “
Grazie a Dio.
You’ll be much more fun to me alive.”
She sat up suddenly and had to grab the edge of the divan to keep
from tumbling to the floor. Her head felt like it was stuffed with wet
fabric, and her stomach lurched violently. “What have you done to
me?” she asked, her voice strangely hoarse.
“I rescued you from the fire. Don’t you remember? You are probably still feeling the effects of the smoke.”
“Why?” Cass mentally berated herself for collapsing into a murderer’s arms. “Why would you rescue me?”
He twirled the paintbrush in his hand, a thoughtful expression on
his face. “Would you rather I had left you there to die?”
Quite possibly.
“I must confess I never saw you as the hero type.”
Cristian smiled. “But
she
will.”
Cass blinked rapidly and looked around. Her vision was still a
little foggy, but she didn’t see anyone else in the room. Then she saw
the white wrapped bundle on the floor, a shock of dark hair protruding from the top. She gasped again, swallowing back the rush of bile
that flooded her throat. It was Mariabella. Cristian had retrieved her
corpse from Liviana’s tomb.
“What have you done?” she asked. “Why would you—”
“I heard them say your blood is special,” Cristian said soberly.
“They said your blood can fight death. Dubois promised I could
have your remains when they finished with you, but I simply couldn’t
wait any longer.”
“No,” Cass protested, her eyes looking everywhere but at the
body. “They didn’t mean it like that.”
Cristian shook his head. “The spell says that any blood will work,
but I figure yours will work the best. Perhaps with yours, my Mariabella will regain her former beauty.” He looked ruefully down at the
corpse. “I’m afraid she’s not quite as lovely as I remember.”
Cristian was even more disturbed than Cass or Luca had imagined. Did he really think any spell could regrow the muscles and
flesh on a decaying corpse? Against her will, Cass’s eyes flicked back
to the bundle. They traced a sharp angle, the outline of Mariabella’s
left arm, or what was left of it.
“What happened to everyone else from the workshop?” Cass’s
voice dissolved on the last word, and she coughed forcefully. Clearly,
the smoke had burned her throat.
Cristian shrugged. “I was going to ask the same thing. I came only
for you. Did you get to watch them burn? Did Belladonna find the
present I left for her before she perished?”
“She died trying to rescue the Book of the Eternal Rose.” Cass
needed to keep Cristian talking until she could come up with a plan
or an opportunity presented itself.
He smirked. “Nobles and their obsessions with earthly goods.
Do you know Dubois paid me twice to steal that book?”
“Why is that?” she asked.
Cristian didn’t answer. He cocked his head to the side, and for a
moment she felt like he was staring through her, at something else in
the room that she couldn’t see. Something else that wasn’t there. “The