Venom (4 page)

Cass shivered. The graveyard looked the same as it always did, so why did it give her the chills tonight?

Liviana was there now. That had to be why.

She heard the scraping noise again, like someone trying to push back the lid of a heavy stone coffin. She couldn’t help but imagine tiny Livi writhing inside the marble box that held her, struggling to break free of the burial shrouds.

Cass turned from the window. She’d heard plenty of stories about people being buried alive, of ghosts and vampires rising from graves. But she had lived beside a graveyard for years now and had never seen anything like that. More likely, the noise was caused by stray cats. San Domenico was crawling with them.

Still, her heart was hammering, and she knew she wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. Maybe she should just go down there. She often wandered the graveyard or her aunt’s property at night when she was having trouble sleeping. And it would give her the chance to say good-bye.

Opening her bedroom door just a crack, Cass paused and listened for sounds within the dark villa. As usual, everything was silent. She
fastened a long velvet cloak with a fur-lined collar around her shoulders, gathering it at her waist to cover her nightgown. Behind her, Slipper opened his mouth wide in a yawn before curling his tail around himself and going back to sleep, his head resting on top of one of her shoes.

Cass grabbed her leather-bound journal, a jar of ink, and her favorite quill. She often found she could do her best writing at night. Tucking the materials into the pocket of her cloak, she stole through the house, careful to skip the creaky third step as she made her way downstairs. A small steel lantern and tinderbox sat on the side table just inside the main entrance. Cass took them, and then headed outside. Shutting the massive wooden door behind her, she lit the lantern and cut across the lawn toward the graveyard.

The night wind was brisk and Cass’s hair whipped around her face, stinging her eyes and cheeks. As she made her way across the wet grass, blood pounded through her veins like ocean waves beating against the shore. Cass normally liked the graveyard—it was both peaceful and a little exciting. Ironically, it made her feel alive. Funny, she thought, that it took an army of corpses to make her feel like one of the living. Agnese had once found out that Cass enjoyed writing there and declared the place improper for a lady, even during daylight hours. And somehow that made the graveyard all the more appealing.

Usually.

But tonight, Cass’s head was full of ghosts. She lingered outside the fence for a moment, casting a long glance back toward the sanctuary of the villa. No, she had to see this through. It was just the funeral, the idea of Livi’s wrapped body so nearby. That had to be why the whole night seemed tinged with foreboding.

The metal gate tilted on one hinge and groaned as the breeze pushed it back and forth, occasionally slamming it against the fence. No doubt this was the clanking noise she had heard from her bedroom. Cass passed through the gate and headed off to her left, where Liviana’s family crypt had stood for more than a century. She picked her way across the uneven ground, moving swiftly through the tufts of tall grass, some bleached a ghostly white by the salty air.

Something snapped. A foot, crushing a dead branch. Cass spun around, her eyes picking up movement among the uneven rows of gravestones. A flapping cloak melted into the low shrubbery.

Or had she imagined it? Cass couldn’t be certain. There was no reason for anyone else to be in the graveyard at this hour. Slowly, she scanned the area all around her. Headstones seemed to be tilted at strange angles. A carved angel sculpture on the top of a nearby crypt looked more like a bird of prey than a heavenly being. Bats passed over her head, fluid forms against the static blackness, coasting silently on leathery wings.

Cass shivered—she
hated
bats. The creatures overhead melted once again into the darkness, but she couldn’t shake the idea that they were toying with her. Stalking her, like vampires would…

As soon as the thought came to her, Cass dismissed it. Madalena liked to tell tales about vampires gliding over the Grand Canal late at night, but Cass had always laughed off her friend’s stories.

Now, however, they didn’t seem so funny.

The light from the lantern wavered, and Cass realized her fingers were shaking. She took a deep breath to steady her hands and her heart. The exit gate seemed miles away. Cass backtracked a few steps and nearly stumbled upon a patch of dead grass, glowing white against the darkness of the night. She stopped. Turned back. She
was being ridiculous. She had never been scared of the graveyard before.

Insects hummed in the shrubbery, and leaves brushed against one another, filling the air with a constant whispering sound. Cass ran her fingers across the walls of each tomb as she made her way to Liviana’s crypt. The rough stone against her skin was comforting.

And then she froze. From yards away, Cass could make out the huge gray stone angel perched at the top of the monument, wings wide. But that wasn’t what made her stop. Her eyes were riveted to the front of the crypt, to the thin rectangle of blackness that made it look as though the door was open.

Impossible. The tombs were always locked up tight. It was the moonlight playing tricks on her. It had to be. Cass navigated her way around a pair of underground graves. She focused her eyes on the door to Livi’s tomb, expecting what she saw to be just an illusion, expecting any minute to see that the large iron door was shut and locked as it should be.

But no. There was definitely a tiny slice of darkness there. And on the ground lay a broken padlock, partly obscured in a tuft of grass. Cass paused a few feet from the tomb, torn between the desire to shut the door and flee, and sneaking inside to make sure everything was okay.

She had never been inside a crypt.

A sharp scrabbling noise made the decision for her. She backed away, nearly dropping her lantern. Suddenly, she was certain that if she dared go near, even just to close the door, a ghost would pull her inside and trap her there.

The scratching sounds continued, like fingernails on stone. Cass realized her own nails were digging deep crescent moon impressions
into her palm. More scratching. Grating. Frantic. Like someone or something trying to escape.

What if Liviana really
had
been buried alive? Siena’s sister, Feliciana, had once told Cass a story about a woman who was buried alive in Florence. The greedy graveyard caretaker had broken into her crypt to steal her diamond rings from her cold, dead fingers. But the rings were stuck, and when the caretaker sliced through the first finger with a rusty old machete, the woman had awakened with a shriek as if never dead.

Maybe Livi wasn’t dead. Maybe the doctors had made a mistake. What if the poor girl was in there, terrified, clawing at the stone lid above her head? Those lids weighed as much as she did. There was no way she would be able to escape without help.

Holding her lantern out in front of her, and trying to control the frantic drumming of her heart, Cass shoved the crypt door open all the way to let in as much light as possible. The contessa’s coffin lay at floor level, below the shelves that supported the coffins of her grandparents and ancestors. Carvings of angels and doves decorated the outside of the stone box that held Livi’s body. Someone or something had disturbed the lid, just slightly. Shaking, Cass maneuvered her lantern so she could see more clearly…just as a huge brown rat skittered past her.

Cass squealed and jumped back. The rat disappeared into a dark corner, its naked tail leaving a serpentine trail in the dust. She leaned against the wall of the tomb, taking deep breaths, grateful that no one was around to witness her stupidity.

Ghosts. Buried alive. What a bunch of nonsense. Luca had always teased Cass about reading too many scary stories. Maybe he was right.

She turned to leave, then stopped. The least she could do was try to slide the coffin’s stone cover back in place so her friend could rest without being invaded by vermin.

Cass placed her lantern on the floor and took hold of the stone lid in both hands. But as she started to pull, morbid curiosity got the best of her and she slid the heavy cover down just enough so she could peek at Liviana. Right then, the moon shucked off its veil of clouds and the light in the crypt brightened momentarily. Cass leaned in for one last look at her friend’s golden hair and pale skin.

Her breath turned to ice inside her chest. The hair flowing across the satin pillow wasn’t blonde—it was raven black. And the corpse—it wasn’t Liviana.

Cass squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them for a second look. The girl looked a few years older than Livi and wore red makeup on her cheeks and lips. Clouded-over eyes lined in black stared vacantly up out of a face swollen from death. A circle of purple-black bruises ringed the girl’s slender neck. Cass reached out with one finger to touch a heart-shaped birthmark on the girl’s left temple. Her skin was firm and cold.

Cass knew she should turn around and run, but she couldn’t look away from the bloated corpse. Her eyes trailed downward. The girl’s satin underdress, fit to scoop low over her breasts and peek out over her stays, had been slashed to ribbons.

And there was an X carved over her heart.

Cass’s stomach twisted violently and bile flooded her throat. She stumbled back from the casket and out of the crypt, whimpering. She ran on the uneven ground, grass whipping her legs and branches snatching at her cloak like tiny hands trying to pull her backward.
She wasn’t alone. She could almost feel breath on the back of her neck, the heat of a murderer tracking her through the graveyard.

She ran so fast, she could barely breathe. Her heart and lungs felt like they had lodged in her throat. The narrow spikes of the wrought-iron gate appeared in front of her. Safety was just a few seconds away.

Then a shadowy figure unfolded from behind a tall obelisk and Cass tripped. Her toes slammed against a half-buried headstone and she started to fall. Hands reached out for her. The moon illuminated a pair of glowering eyes and a face streaked with blood.

Tumbling straight into the figure’s arms, Cass screamed.

N
o need to split my eardrums. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Something familiar about the boy’s lilting tone made Cass stop screaming and flailing in his grip. She looked up just slightly, into his face. Even by the dim light of the moon, she recognized his dazzling blue eyes. “You,” she breathed.

“Mourning girl?” The boy laughed, and steadied her on her feet. “So nice to run into you again.”

She wrenched away from his grasp, pulling her cloak tight around her body. “What are you doing here?”

The boy shrugged his broad shoulders. “I was just standing here enjoying the view when you almost ran me over.”