Authors: Fiona Paul
except for the wavering light of four black candles, one on each corner of the dining room table.
And there was her aunt.
Dead.
Just as Cass had known, somewhere deep in her bones, as soon as
she’d set foot on the property.
Agnese lay in her coffin, dressed in her favorite lavender gown.
Her eyes were closed, and her wiry gray hair was pulled back from
her face and tucked beneath a black veil. Cass moved to her aunt’s
side and took the cold, firm hand into her own fingers. “Forgive me,”
she whispered.
Glancing quickly around to make sure no one had heard her, Cass
knelt beside the table and began to pray. As she recited the words of
the Lord’s Prayer, she felt almost as if Agnese’s spirit hovered close
by. She finished the prayer and started again, soothed by the repetition.
When she had finished praying, Cass rose to her feet. She left the
portego, passing by her own bedchamber on the way to her aunt’s
room at the very back of the villa. For one brief moment, she allowed
herself to fantasize that when she opened the door, she would find
Agnese beyond it, that her aunt would sit up in the dark and chastise
Cass for wandering the house at such a late hour.
But the door opened to a room that was empty, to a bed that was
expertly made. Swallowing back the heaviness in her throat, Cass
quickly located Agnese’s stash of coins in her armoire and then let
the wooden doors fall shut. As she turned to hurry from the room,
she noticed various medicinal potions and salves scattered across the
top of her aunt’s dressing table. Folding her skirt into a sack, she gathered up everything useful she could carry, including a pair of candles
and a box of tinder. Maybe together, she and Luca could figure out
something that would help his shoulder heal completely.
She snatched one last thing before leaving, the embroidered wool
blanket that lay folded at the foot of the bed. Cass had covered her
aunt with this very blanket so many times that a flash of guilt settled
in her gut, but she or Luca would need it more than Agnese would
tonight. She had to focus on what was important. Hiding. Healing.
Taking down the Order.
Cass returned to the storage area and pulled a second set of
crates over to where Luca lay. She placed the folded blanket on top
of them and dumped out the items she had taken from Agnese’s
room. Lighting a candle, she studied each of the salves and potions
individually—looking at them, sniffing them, even going as far as to
taste one of them.
Theriac. Her father had used it for all sorts of ailments. More
recently, Belladonna’s evil physician, Piero, had used it on Cass’s
dog bite. She flexed her arm and thought about the scars that still
remained. Fortunately, she had no lingering pain or stiffness.
Shielding his eyes from the candle, Luca rolled over to face her.
“Did you see your aunt?”
“I did,” Cass said. “She looks very . . . peaceful.”
Luca reached out for Cass’s hand. “I am so sorry. I—”
Cass shook off his touch. She didn’t want to talk about, or even
think about Agnese, ghost-pale, on display for all to see, but words
spilled from her lips. “It doesn’t feel real. She and Siena, they were
all that I had.”
“You have me now, Cass,” Luca said. “You will always have me,