Venom (12 page)

A faint glow lit up an arched doorway in front of them. Grateful for the reprieve from total blindness, Cass moved toward the light.

This room was spacious, with a high, vaulted ceiling, but it had no window and no real furniture. Instead, the floor was lined with rows of oval-shaped tin basins. Six rows of eight. Cass did the math in her head. Forty-eight. The ones nearest to them were small, just big enough to bathe an infant. Along the far wall stood three larger basins. A thick white candle sat in a far corner of the room, its weak flame flickering. Someone had been here recently. Cass stared at the dim flame. Whoever it was, he or she was planning on coming back.

Cass knelt down by the nearest basin. A shapeless blob was submerged in some kind of liquid. It looked soft and squishy and
fleshy,
like something that had come from a body…

But no, she was likely letting her imagination run wild again. Still, she wanted to get up and run. The faint, flickering light no longer comforted her—it made everything more uncertain, more terrifying.

But she couldn’t run. Instead, she found herself bending closer, her head just inches above the fluid. A familiar odor, crisp and cold, wafted up into the air. Where had she smelled it before? Falco drew his index finger across the surface of the liquid.

“Are you crazy?” Cass hissed. “That could be poison.”

He held his hand up to his nose and sniffed. “I didn’t plan on tasting it,” he responded.

A series of soft thuds drew Cass’s attention away from the basin.

Footsteps. Falco must have heard them at the same time. As Cass reached out for him, he was already moving to the far side of the room. The two of them bent down behind one of the larger basins, pressing their bodies against each other. Cass pulled the tail of her cloak in close and wrapped her arms around Falco to steady herself.

The footsteps grew louder. Cass’s heart hammered painfully against her ribs. The light in the room brightened and the footsteps stopped. She held her breath and willed the banging of her heart not to give her away, praying her hair and cloak weren’t visible.

Just when she had convinced herself that she was safely hidden, Falco raised his body slightly, as if to peek over the top of the basin. Cass was still entwined with him. She had no choice but to move as he did. A man with a tall, severe-looking forehead and white hair that flowed back from his long face stood in the arched doorway. He held a lantern high, as if he were searching for something. Or someone. Falco’s whole body went rigid. Cass ducked back down and pulled Falco with her.

Her shoulder bumped into something hanging over the edge of the basin. Something with fingers. She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Falco’s eyes widened in the dark. Cass pointed at the hand as she cowered in her hiding place.

She held her breath again, and Falco moved his face back just enough so that his eyes could find hers. Soft and blue, even in the dark. Then, after what felt like a lifetime, the footsteps started up again, but quieter. Receding.

“It’s okay,” he whispered finally. “Come on.”

“There’s a body in this basin,” she choked out, unable to pull her eyes away from the pale fingers dangling over the basin’s edge. The hand was muscular and hairy, obviously male. “A man.”

“Better him than us,” Falco said. He was already halfway across the room, heading for the arched doorway. “Come
on.
”

Cass didn’t need any more convincing. Fighting past the nausea that overwhelmed her, she crept quickly through the rows of basins—wondering if one of them contained Liviana’s body, or parts of it. Falco was standing in the doorway. The two of them peeked into the hall. To the left was the room with the broken shutter, and their only escape route. To the right, the faint light of the long-faced man’s lantern was barely visible in the distance.

Cass started to ask if they should make a run for it, just as Falco yanked her out into the hallway and turned left. Cass raced behind him, painfully aware of a third set of footsteps pursuing them.

“He’s coming,” she hissed, fumbling through the darkness as fast as she dared, panic rising like a wave.

“Then hurry,” Falco said.

The two of them raced past the table with the dog. Falco vaulted easily through the window and immediately turned back to assist Cass. She made it halfway through, but then got stuck. Her nightgown had snagged on something—the window ledge or the broken shutter. She gave it a furious tug, but it didn’t budge.

“I’m caught.” Her heart started slam-banging again.
Don’t look back.
But of course she did. The long-faced man was striding through the doorway. It would take him only a few paces to get to her. She turned back to Falco, tiny whimpering sounds escaping from her throat.

“Who’s there?” the man called out, and the sound of his voice almost stopped her heart completely.

Falco hooked his hands around her elbows and pulled Cass so hard, she thought both of her arms would dislocate. Her body slid through the window with a harsh ripping sound. She was running as soon as her feet hit the cobblestones, tearing through the alley and over to the gondola, which was, thankfully, still bobbing in the dusky water where they’d left it. Falco practically threw Cass in the boat, and as he did, the kitchen knife slipped out of her cloak pocket and landed on the wooden baseboards.

He raised an eyebrow, but went immediately to the platform and began to row, jolting Cass backward into her seat.

She bent down to retrieve the knife, tucking it back in her pocket. “Hurry,” she begged, expecting to see the long-faced man appearing from the alley any second.
Soon, bella, it will be your turn.
She saw the bloated corpse from Livi’s tomb, the sharp X sliced deep into her once-beautiful skin. Was this man the murderer? Had he sent Cass the note? She got up unsteadily and looked behind them, petrified, as Falco rowed furiously away from the building.

“Is he coming?” Falco asked. For the first time since they’d met in the graveyard, he sounded scared.

“I don’t see him,” Cass said as Falco navigated the boat down a side canal, putting a row of small dwellings between them and the mysterious building. She held her breath until the gondola was out of the Grand Canal and back into the open lagoon.

“I—I don’t understand,” Cass said. Suddenly, she was freezing. She could hardly keep her teeth from chattering. “That place—What are they
doing
there?”

“I don’t know,” Falco said. His voice was grim.

“Do you think we should go back?” Cass asked, her stomach twisting at the thought. Still, maybe Livi’s body was there. “We can bring members of the guard…”

“Are you kidding?” Falco asked, his voice heavy with disbelief. “I don’t ever want to see that place again.”

Cass looked out over the dark lagoon and willed herself to remain calm. “But we can’t just forget about it. All those basins full of…parts. They’re doing witchcraft there, or worse.”

“No one is doing any witchcraft,” Falco said. “Those parts probably weren’t even human. Probably harvested from dogs, like the one on the table.” He didn’t sound convinced.

Cass turned back to face Falco, her eyes bright with anger. “What about the bodies in the big basins?” she asked. “They looked human enough to me. Even if our murderer didn’t kill them, they could be victims of vampires or demons.” A tremor made its way into her voice. “What if Liviana is there? I will not see my friend’s body torn apart by monsters.” Cass wanted to curl up in her bed, under all of her covers, and drift into dream. No. She wanted to wake up, and find out that that horrible place—the dog, the body, the man with the long face—
was
the dream. For once she was relieved to see the shore of San Domenico in the distance. Falco let go of the oar and put both hands on Cass’s shoulders. He didn’t say anything for a minute. Beneath her feet, she could feel the coasting gondola slow to a stop and bob gently in the still waters of the lagoon.

“Cass,” Falco began slowly, “I don’t understand what that place was myself. But there’s one thing I do know: there
are
no vampires or demons. Whatever is happening there…it’s human. Human experimentation. Human madness, perhaps. But human nonetheless.”

The word
experimentation
suddenly recalled to Cass the familiar smell from the small basin. Balsam. That’s what it was. Her father used to bring the sticky substance home on his clothes. She didn’t remember what it was for—an antiseptic or a preservative or something. “They were using balsam,” she said shakily. “I smelled it. It—it reminded me of my father.” Her voice was still a little shaky. “He dabbled in medicine.”

“See,” Falco said. “The man we saw was probably a…a physician, or a surgeon. Maybe he’s doing research in that place.”

“But it’s still not right,” Cass protested, shrugging away from Falco’s grasp. “All those organs just sitting out like that. The church would forbid it.”

“This isn’t Rome, Cass. Venice does what’s best for Venice.” Falco took the oar and steered the bobbing gondola back on course. “And we can’t say anything to anyone without admitting we broke into the place. We’d be arrested. We have to let it go.”

“So that’s it? Once again, your grand plan is that we do nothing?” Cass waited for Falco to answer, but he was concentrating on his rowing, or at least pretending to. Despite his reassurances, he, too, seemed afraid of the place. For a couple of minutes, she watched the oar move through the water. Cass saw the outline of her aunt’s dock coming into focus through the mist, and she couldn’t stop a small fist of disappointment from settling in her stomach. “But what about the murderer? Are you just going to forget about him?”

Falco steered the boat expertly up to the dock. “I recently ran across a girl who carries a concealed kitchen knife in her cloak,” he said, cracking a small smile. “I’m beginning to suspect
she
might be responsible.”

Cass flushed. “You can never be too careful.”

“You better be careful not to stab yourself in the leg,” Falco said, retying the ropes that moored the gondola to the dock. “See. Your aunt will never know it was missing.”

He helped Cass from the boat and took her arm as they headed across the lawn toward the villa. Cass’s heart raced as her mind sped over all the details of the night so far. The breeze had died down and she felt cozy in Siena’s woolen cloak. The sky had gone from ebony to purple, and Cass knew the sun—and the servants—would be up soon.

“What if we tried a different strategy?” she blurted out, surprised at her brazenness. “If we figured out who the girl was…Maybe the murderer was one of her patrons, or someone she knew. I—I’m just not ready to give up,” she finished, in response to Falco’s questioning look. She told herself it was because she wanted to know what happened to Liviana’s body, and who had killed the courtesan. And of course, to protect herself.

But deep down, she knew she also wanted another reason to see Falco. She
needed
it.

Falco paused, rubbing the skin under his right eye. “It’s not a bad idea,” he said. “But we don’t even know if she worked out of a house or on her own. There are more women-for-hire in Venice than there are rats.”

“You said yourself she looked young, didn’t you?” Cass was thinking out loud. “We could visit a house or two. Speak to the women there, and to their patrons perhaps? They might know of her, even if she was a courtesan working for herself. You seem fairly familiar with the…industry.”

Falco chuckled. “I know of a few places.” He paused as the old villa came into view through the mist. “But a lady of your grace and stature, surely you don’t want to go anywhere like that.”

“A lady of my grace and stature typically doesn’t ride in stolen gondolas wearing only her nightgown,” she replied, lifting her chin. “I’ve told you. I’m not like the others.”

Falco laughed. “Fair enough. We’ll go then. Tomorrow night or soon after.”

Depending on his mysterious business dealings, no doubt. Still, Cass felt a quick burst of excitement. “Where should I meet you?” she asked, glancing nervously at the villa. So far she hadn’t seen any light or movement, but sunrise had to be just minutes away.

“I’ll find you,” Falco said. He lifted one of Cass’s hands to his lips and kissed it. Then he turned back toward the dock without even saying good-bye.

Cass fought the urge to call out to him. How would he get home? Where did he live? What had they witnessed tonight? But soon he was swallowed by the mist.

She touched the hand he had kissed to her cheek and then her lips. Her stomach felt knotted, and for a second Cass was certain she would never see him again. She waited for the feeling to pass, but it didn’t, so she tucked her hands into the pockets of Siena’s cloak and headed into the villa.

Her right hand bumped against the small knife’s handle, but closed around something else in the pocket. Falco’s drawing. The mysterious nude woman. Who was it meant to be? She knew she would never be able to ask him.

As she slipped inside and shut the door, a creak from the back of
the house made her jump. One of the servants was awake. Footsteps. Cass wrestled her way out of the cloak, tossing it haphazardly over the side table. Then she raced up the spiral staircase. Shutting her bedroom door with a click, she leaned back against it, catching her breath and counting the beats of her thumping heart.