Wandering Soul (11 page)

He stood and turned his back to her, unable to bear her gaze. “I apologize. It was careless of me to sleep without my mask. I will not let it happen again.”

He was halfway to the door when he heard her slip from the bed and quickly cross the room to him. She grabbed his shoulders with her slight hands, as if she could hold him in place. He decided to humor her and stopped. Her fingers trembled.

“Dante, look at me.”

He did not think he had the strength to turn around. He could not stand to see those eyes, those frightened eyes, staring at him. He wanted to find some dark corner in the house where he could hide.

When he did not turn, she circled to stand in front of him.

“You startled me,” she said. “I don't like it when people get angry.”

“I was not angry. I was terrified.”

She seemed genuinely confused. “Why?”

“You should never have seen me like that. I should not have let you.”

“I'm grateful that you let me see you. I want you to be comfortable with me. As comfortable as I am with you.” She stepped in closer. “I don't care about what you look like. I care about who you are. You don't have to wear your mask with me. Not ever.”

“A noble sentiment, however, I could not subject you to—”

“I've seen you without your mask before today.”

He sought through his memory, but could not think of another time he had been without his mask while they were in the same room. “When?”

Her chest stilled, as if she was trying to keep the answers he sought from escaping with her breath. She bit her lower lip to further trap the truth within her.

“Elsa, what are you not telling me?”

“I did tell you. That I had observed you before.”

“When Heinrich died. And the night of the fire, of course.”

A sick feeling coiled and rattled in Dante's stomach. Elsa had also mentioned seeing Mary when Edgar gave her Dante's ring. And there were the travels where Elsa had observed Dante's parents. Dante hadn't given it much thought beyond that, his mind too filled with all that he had experienced since coming to stay with her.

“How much of my life have you witnessed?”

“My travels were usually brief, since they centered on moments of extreme emotion. Do you remember when you finally figured out the trick with mirrors and pulleys that you used to make Edgar disappear in your first production with Heinrich's theatre?”

“That hardly seems like something important enough to allow you to…”

The dread in his stomach lashed out, striking Dante's heart and pumping stinging venom through his veins. If such a relatively small accomplishment was strong enough for her traveling, what else had she seen?

“How many events in my life did you witness?”

“A few…dozen.” She clasped her hands in front of her chest as if she was begging for forgiveness. At the moment, Dante was too shocked to offer any.

“Dozens? Dozens!”

She took a step toward him, but he lurched back. For the first time, he didn't want to feel her touch. What had once been intimate now seemed invasive. He had the most unsettling feeling, as if she was seeing through his clothing and there was nothing he could do to cover himself.

“What all have you seen?” he demanded.

She looked stricken, and a part of his heart went out to her, wanting to give her comfort. He would not let it win.

“Highlights, mostly.” Her voice was small, her gaze fixed on the floor as if she could no longer face him. At least she had the decency to seem abashed. “I saw the night when you met Heinrich at the circus. When he offered you a job at his theatre. I saw how filled with hope you were when you arrived.”

Dante's jaw began to ache from how tightly he was clenching his teeth. That was a very private moment. Knowing that someone else had been watching, even Elsa, felt like a violation.

“Go on.” He kept his voice as cold as he could.

“I saw how they treated you when you arrived. How it drove you to seclusion beneath the theatre.”

Elsa looked at him again, a fire blazing in her eyes. There were ample memories for her to have seen to explain her anger. His treatment at the theatre had been quite horrid, especially in the beginning.

The others made it clear that he had no place among them. Even Heinrich had been distant, though Dante now better understood the origins of his behavior.

“Would that I had known the door was not keeping out all prying eyes.”

She gasped, her mouth dropping open. Even now, as angry as he was, Dante longed to reach out and stroke the soft flesh of her lips. That fact only angered him further.

Apparently, his comment awoke a similar spark within her. Her eyes narrowed, and she dropped her hands to her sides.

“I know you watched people from the catwalks when they didn't know you were there.”

“I had no recourse. I was reviled! The only people who would speak to me were Heinrich and Mary.”

“What makes you think it's that different for me?”

“Don't be absurd. You are surrounded by people who care for you. You can go out in a crowd without people staring, without children pointing, without women fainting or screaming.”

“Only because they don't know!” The vehemence in her voice was shocking. As was the bleakness of her expression as she spoke. “If people knew what I could do, they would hunt me down and dissect me.”

“You cannot believe—”

“I know it,” she said, cutting him off.

Dante was silent for a few moments, wondering at how deep her fear ran within her, how very blind she was to the people around her.

“Even Garrett? Even Winston?”

Elsa looked away, grabbing her left arm with her right as she half hugged herself and stood as stiff as a mannequin. She truly believed that even those closest to her were capable of turning on her viciously. Dante wondered what could have happened to make her have so little faith in those who cared for her so very much.

“And what of me, Elsa?”

When she looked up at him, her eyes were shining with tears, but not a one strayed over her lashes. Her voice was small when she spoke.

“I suppose I'm at your mercy.”

Even more than her words, the complete and utter lack of hope she expressed shook him to his core. He thought that risking her life was the greatest threat she faced in saving him. Now he knew her act had a much higher price. She had sacrificed her sense of safety. As he had done with her on that first night, she had placed her life in his hands.

His anger evaporated in an instant. Dante took a slow step toward her. Elsa was on the edge of an emotional precipice. If he was ever to truly reach her, he must take a leap of faith himself. And despite what he had learned, he still wanted to reach her, to be with her.

When he was quite close, he took a deep breath and lowered his hand from his face.

Hope slowly seeped back into her expression, and it seemed to him like the morning sun rising over the horizon. Her lips parted on a quick intake of breath.

He reached out to cup her cheek. His voice rasped low from his throat. “I would never do anything to harm you.”

Elsa pulled her lower lip between her teeth, biting it firmly enough that he feared she might draw blood. He finally gave in to his desire, gently brushing his thumb along her lower lip, coaxing her to release it. She took a deep, shuddering breath as she did.

Dante continued to trace its satin surface. The entire time, her gaze never strayed to his scars, almost as if she did not notice them.

Grasping his hand, she pressed her cheek into his palm and closed her eyes. “I believe you.”

Her skin was soft and warm. He had no doubt her lips would be much warmer, much softer. He dipped his head toward her, unable to resist the temptation to find out.

Before their lips met, a crashing sound downstairs startled him. Both of them jumped, the moment vanishing.

“What was that?” Elsa asked.

Before he could speculate, he heard Winston shouting profanities that made Dante want to cover Elsa's ears. It was too late for that, as she had already fled to the door and disappeared down the hallway. Dante followed.

They found Winston in the kitchen, lying on the floor. Elsa ran to his side, placing her arms on Winston's shoulders. She looked panicked.

“Winston, what happened?”

Winston let out a low grunt. “What's it look like happened? The old geezer fell down.”

“Don't talk about yourself that way. Are you hurt?”

“My ego more than anything else.”

“This isn't a joke,” Elsa said.

Dante could see her pulling herself together, taking control of the situation.

Her voice was low and level when she next spoke. “Take a moment and assess yourself. Do you have pain anywhere?”

“Only on my arse, where I fell.”

“Dante, call Garrett,” Elsa said. “The phone is on the shelf by the door.”

Dante crossed the room and picked up the device, making a quick study of the buttons on the number pad. He had read about phones, but had not used one as of yet. She rattled off a series of numbers, and he pressed each one in turn, then the talk button at her direction. When finished, he held the phone to his ear as he had seen done on the television.

“This is Garrett.” Garrett's disembodied voice came through the phone.

Dante wished he had more time to marvel at the technology, but he needed to keep his focus on Winston.

“Garrett, it is Dante.”

“Oh hey, Dante. What's up?”

“I fear it is a matter of what's down.” Dante heard Winston chuckle, but when Dante looked over his shoulder, Elsa was scowling at him. Clearing his throat, he continued. “Winston has fallen.”

“I'll be there in ten minutes. Make sure he stays still and doesn't move around too much.”

“I fear that is easier said than done.”

“I don't doubt it. Just have Elsa sit on him. That should do the trick.”

“Indeed.”

Elsa spoke up, saying, “Tell him we're in the kitchen. That way, he'll come to the right door.”

Before Dante could relate this to Garrett, Garrett said, “Got it.”

Dante pressed the end button and set the phone back in its cradle. He then returned to Elsa's side. “Winston is to remain as still as possible until Garrett arrives.”

“Like hell I will,” Winston said.

“Like hell you won't.” Elsa moved so that she could sit near Winston's head, crossing her legs and pulling him down so he was using her knees as a pillow. “I don't play the boss card very often, but I'm laying it down right now. You are not moving.”

“I'm going to get more stiff lying on this damn floor than I would if you'd help me up to one of the chairs.”

“Then I guess Garrett will have to prescribe some painkillers for you. And I'll schedule you a massage or something.”

“Hmph.”

Dante watched the exchange with a growing sense of tenderness. Elsa had one hand on Winston's shoulder, and the other she used to stroke his hair. Winston would never admit it, but Dante could see the fear on his face. It was mirrored on Elsa's.

“I'll get a blanket,” Dante said.

“Thank you.” Elsa looked so stricken when she glanced at him. As Dante left the room, he gently touched her shoulder, and Elsa rewarded him with a faint smile.

The closest blanket that Dante knew of was in the entertainment room. He ran to it as quickly as possible and pulled the soft plum-colored throw from the back of the couch. As he turned toward the hall, he noticed one of the doors to the cabinet at the bottom of the movie shelf was open.

Elsa loved for things to be just so. Dante was certain the cabinet door had been closed when last he was in the room. Between that and his mask disappearing, an uneasy feeling stirred in his stomach.

He had no time to contemplate it further. He ran back to the kitchen and spread the blanket over Winston, then knelt at Elsa's side.

“Thanks,” Winston said. Lines were etched around his eyes that had little to do with his age. He might profess that he felt fine, but Dante recognized the signs of pain.

“Was it Leonardo?” Elsa asked. “He's always trying to trip people.”

“That cat will never get the best of me,” Winston said. “I know how to deal with him. No, I stepped on something. Foot flew right out from under me.”

Dante scanned the floor as he searched for what could have caused Winston's fall. His gaze lit upon a small object reflecting the morning light from the windows. He reached under the table to pick it up, then stood, holding it so Elsa could see.

“That's the key to the kitchen door,” Elsa said. “We always keep it in the lock. How did it get on the floor?”

Dante glanced at the door, thinking back on the cabinet and his missing mask. “How, indeed.”

Chapter Fourteen

The minutes that passed between Dante calling Garrett and Garrett's arrival were some of the longest of Elsa's life. Dante stayed at her side, his hand resting on her back.

She was meticulous about keeping everything in place to protect Winston. The key to the kitchen door stayed in the lock, like the one in the studio. Neither had fallen out before. The doors were old-fashioned, with antique keys that were part of the charm of the house. Elsa would install modern deadbolts as soon as possible to make sure this never happened again.

Garrett didn't bother to knock. When he arrived, he opened the door and came right in. Winston must have unlocked it earlier.

But that didn't make sense. If he had, he would've heard the key fall from the door. Elsa would have to figure it out later. Winston needed her full attention.

“Hey, Winston.” Garrett smiled as casually as always, joining them on the floor.

“Hey yourself,” Winston snapped.

“Garrett is here to help you,” Elsa said. “The least you can do is be civil.”

“Why start now?” Garrett winked at Elsa, ignoring her scowl. He placed his hands at different points along Winston's body. “How bad is the pain?”

“I'm fine,” Winston said. “I tried to tell Elsa.”

Winston let out a yelp as Garrett touched a spot on his back. “Fine, huh?”

Elsa hated seeing Winston in pain. She couldn't believe she had let this happen. “Is it bad?”

“Seems like you bruised yourself up pretty good,” Garrett said. “But nothing that won't fix itself with a few days' rest.”

“A few days?” Winston chuffed. “We'll all starve.”

“We will not.” Elsa tried to feign a confidence she didn't feel. “I can cook.”

Winston groaned and Garrett said, “Dante, you better make sure you have my number on speed dial.”

Laughing, Winston piled on. “The only thing you can cook is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And only then if it's not on toast.”

“I would be more than happy to take over the cooking duties,” Dante said. “It is the least I could do after all your hospitality.”

“There. No one is starving.” She wasn't sure Dante could make good on his promise, since he'd never even seen an electric range until a few days ago. Elsa was just glad Winston felt well enough to make jokes.

“Let's get him to his room,” Garrett said.

“Finally.” Winston waved in the general direction of Garrett's voice, pushing away from Elsa's lap. She supported him as best she could while Dante and Garrett lifted Winston to his feet.

They half carried him to his room, then worked as a team to settle him in bed. Garrett gave Winston some painkillers and strict instructions for bed rest and to sleep. Elsa knew she and Dante would have their work cut out for them to keep Winston resting. Winston was stubborn, but outnumbered now that Elsa had Dante to help.

Once Winston was asleep, Elsa returned to the kitchen with Dante and Garrett. Garrett leaned against the counter and Elsa sat at the table. Dante's presence at her side was a welcome comfort.

“Is Winston really going to be okay?” she asked.

“I think so.” Garrett's tone was less than convincing. “I'm more concerned with why he fell. It isn't like Winston to be clumsy.”

“The fault was not with him.” Dante had placed the kitchen key on the table after finding it. He picked it up to show Garrett. “He slipped on this.”

“Did it fall out of the lock?” Garrett asked.

Dante hesitated before responding. “I do not think that is the case.”

“What do you think happened?” Garrett crossed his arms.

“My mask is missing. And the cabinet door on the shelf in the entertainment room is ajar.”

They hadn't watched TV last night, and Elsa was certain Dante shut the door to the cabinet after getting out the movie they watched the night before. Winston never went into that cabinet. But if none of them had done it…

“Maybe Leonardo somehow opened it,” she said. “And he probably knocked your mask behind my nightstand.”

Dante sucked in a quick breath of air and cast a wary look at Garrett. It took Elsa a moment to realize she'd just basically told Garrett that she and Dante had spent the night together. Honestly, she had other things to worry about at the moment.

If Garrett was surprised, he wasn't letting on. “It seems a bit much mischief for one night, even for Leo.”

Elsa didn't want to contemplate the only other possibility, but she forced herself to face it. “You don't think someone was in the house last night, do you?”

“We must not dismiss the possibility,” Dante said.

“Why would they only take your mask?” Garrett asked.

Elsa's cheeks tingled and her heart clenched in her chest as she ran through different scenarios. She had valuables out in plain sight. Taking Dante's mask and leaving everything else made this personal, like someone was taunting them. Her stomach churned at the thought.

“And how did they get in?” Garrett nodded toward the door. “Did Winston forget to lock up?”

“He wouldn't do that.” Elsa reached for the key. “May I?”

Dante handed her the key, his fingertips lingering a bit as they traced over her palm. Even with the fear, or perhaps because of it, his gentle touch sparked a shiver down her spine. She hoped it wasn't too obvious.

Elsa stood and walked to a drawer that held several sets of chopsticks. She grabbed one, then went to the door and pulled a piece of paper from the shelf under the phone. She put the key in the lock, then opened the door and stepped outside.

She slid the paper under the closed door, then fiddled with the chopstick until she felt the key jiggle loose. It almost bounced off the paper she had ready below, but she was still able to gently pull the paper toward her until the key was in her hand. She opened the door again, stepping back inside and holding up the key.

“Of course,” Dante said.

Garrett shook his head. “How do you know this stuff?”

“I'm a writer. It's my job to know this stuff.”

“That's it.” Garrett pulled out his phone. “I'm calling the cops.”

“No!” Elsa was standing close to Garrett now, and she reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Why not?”

That was a good question. Elsa didn't have an answer ready. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “We don't know for sure that someone was here.”

“You're kidding, right?”

“It's my decision.” She wouldn't let him argue with her about this. The police would have too many questions. They'd want to know about Dante and might ask him to prove his identity. She couldn't risk that.

Garrett let out a sigh, and she knew she'd won. She let go of his arm as he put away his phone. She'd never seen him so serious.

“Fine.” Garrett picked up his bag, then fished around inside. He pulled out a small piece of black fabric. Brushing past her, he walked over to Dante. “I picked this up for you.”

“Thank you.” Dante took the item and turned it over in his hands. It was a mask.

Garrett stepped in close. As tall as Dante was, Garrett loomed over him.

“You listen to me.” Garrett's voice was a low growl. “Elsa and Winston are very important to me. They get hurt, and I'm coming for you.”

“Garrett!”

Neither man reacted to her exclamation. In a quiet and calm voice, Dante said, “I will protect them both with my life. I promise you.”

“See that you do. I'll be back to check on everyone tonight.”

Garrett didn't say another word to Elsa. He stalked out the door and slammed it behind him.

“I'm so sorry,” she said. “I've never seen Garrett act that way.”

“He cares for you a great deal. I am glad for that.”

“That doesn't mean he should talk to you that way.”

“I believe I would react much the same if our roles were reversed.” Dante went to the door and turned the key, then tried the handle to make sure it was locked. He stared out the windows for a few moments before turning to face her again. “Would you have hesitated to contact the authorities if I were not here?”

She couldn't say that she would have. “It doesn't matter what I might have done. You're here and I'm doing what I need to do to protect you.”

“This is because I have no way to prove who I am.”

“Dante Lucerne died over a hundred years ago. How am I supposed to explain you being here?” She shook her head, all the different ideas she had come up with so far churning through her mind, each with its own challenges. The best idea involved Dante feigning amnesia, and that was pretty weak.

“It is not worth risking your safety.”

“It absolutely is.” Elsa spoke with more force than she intended. She wanted to cover her outburst, but couldn't think of anything to say.

“I must have been on my best behavior when you observed me to have made such an impression upon you.”

Elsa didn't trust herself to respond to that. It wasn't just witnessing his genius or his kindness. His isolation had struck a chord with her. She knew that. But he actually had a chance to form real, honest relationships with people in her time. To be accepted for who he was. She hoped that he was starting to realize that.

Turning his new mask over in his hands, Dante smiled softly. He looked down at it for a moment, then set it on the table.

“Shall we finish breakfast? Winston may be hungry when he awakens.”

Her heart seemed to bloom in her chest. Dante was choosing to let her see him, leaving his mask behind. Even with everything else going on, Elsa couldn't help but smile.