Authors: Fiona Paul
clusive nobleman that Cass had met once or twice, and Paulina Andretti, a woman with whom Cass was unfamiliar. According to the
notice, both Alessia and Paulina had been found guilty of consorting
with vampires.
It was exactly like in Florence—young women being executed
based on hearsay and possible bite marks.
Turning away from the handbill, Cass tucked her head low and
listened to the snatches of conversation that buzzed around her. As
she entered the market, the scents of fish, fruit, and sharp herbs
melding together made her stomach shift inside her. She took a couple of deep breaths and the nausea subsided. Perhaps a week of
smelling like canal water and hiding in a shed had strengthened her
constitution.
Wandering through the long aisles, she tried to ignore the way her
heart stuttered in her chest each time someone brushed up against
her. She stopped occasionally as if to browse at the different stalls,
but really she was listening to the mingling servants, trying to glean
any tidbit of gossip that she could. No one seemed to be speaking
about her and Luca—perhaps they truly were presumed dead—but
there was a steady undercurrent of chatter about vampires.
“Girls . . . to be executed,” a young servant whispered to another. Cass struggled to hear the response. “Blood in the water . . .
Palazzo Viaro.”
And then a few stalls down:
A merchant selling vegetables and herbs leaned in to her customer. “The undead . . . the streets are no longer safe.”
“The streets were never safe,” the woman responded pragmatically as she held out a copper coin. She had the same stern tone and
squat build as Narissa.
“I heard the vampires are handsome men who gain their victims’
trust by seducing them.”
“Hah. Then I shan’t worry,” the stout woman said. “It’s been fifteen good years since any man at all has tried to seduce me.”
Cass smothered a smile. Now the woman reminded her more of
Agnese than Narissa. Her aunt had always been blunt about certain
things.
When she got to the front of the line, Cass bought a bundle of
fresh rosemary. She didn’t know if the cook needed any, but a merchant would be more likely to speak to a paying customer, and at least
rosemary was light and easy to carry.
“Excuse me,” she said. “My mistress and I have just returned to
town. Did I hear you speaking of vampires?”
“Surely you’ve heard about the attacks,” the merchant said. “Girls
found by their fathers and husbands bearing the mark of the beast.
Vampires strolling the streets, feeding on those foolish enough to be
out after sunset. They say sometimes the canals in the Castello district flow red as the sun begins to rise.”
Cass shivered. The merchant was talking about the neighborhood
where Luca was investigating at that very moment.
“Stay away from Palazzo Viaro,” the woman added. “I’ve heard
a coven is living there. A body was found nearby, beneath the Conjurer’s Bridge, just two days ago. A courtesan, gray as a specter and
hard as stone, completely drained of her blood.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Cass said. Her fingers dropped to
her belt before she realized she had no crucifix to hold for comfort.
Clutching her bundle of rosemary, she stepped away from the stall.