Company of Angels 02 - The Demoness of Waking Dreams

encountered such a situation before. After all the sacrifices that had ever occurred within the walls of Ca’ Rossetti, no soul had ever stayed around afterward. Each and every one of them had been ferried away in the devil’s funerary gondola, after Luciana had delivered them in front of the Redentore Church. Now, she thought bitterly, if only Brandon had not screwed up the hunt, everything would be fine.
    “Your stubbornness is commendable, but it’s not helping you now. Find the light, and go into it,” Luciana told her, making a shooing motion with her hands. Then, a little more gently, a little more cajolingly, she said, “That’s what I would do, if I could.”
    “Why can’t you?” Violetta asked.
    “Why do you think?” Luciana snapped. “Use your head. I’ve killed people. A lot of people. Demons are not just allowed to leave when we feel like it. But you are. You should go.”
    “I’m not ready,” said Violetta defiantly. “I still have things to do here.”
    Luciana threw her hands in the air. “For the love of God, what things? There is nothing keeping you here except your own stubborn beliefs, and your own fear.”
    “There must be something we can help her do. Say goodbye, perhaps,” said Massimo.
    “No,” said Luciana. “We owe her nothing. More important, we have no time to deal with this right now. We have much more pressing things to worry about. If you didn’t notice, the angel is still out there. Watching us.”
    Violetta vanished, the wisp of her image trailing into vapor as she passed through the surface of the wooden door. Massimo’s gaze followed her, and a small frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. He tried to hide it, but Luciana saw something she didn’t like: the slight parting of his lips as he started to call after Violetta.
    “You,” she said, pointing at the Gatekeeper, “don’t call her back here. Don’t even think about her anymore. You’ve got to keep your wits about you. Love doesn’t exist for demons.”
    “Yes, baronessa, ” he said quietly.
    “Forget the girl. Just let her go. We need to do something about this angel.”
    She peered out the crack in the draperies of Massimo’s window, wondering if this perspective would afford her a better view of Brandon’s hiding place. But outside, there was nothing but the empty canal, and across it, the crumbling palazzo sat dark and quiet. No movement.
    “I need to go out,” she said, shutting the curtain with a snap. “Being trapped in here is driving all of us insane. We must show the angels that we won’t be kept penned in like animals.”
    She could feel Brandon’s rugged energy from across the canal. Could almost feel as a palpable sensation the twitch of his hard muscles, the uncomfortable shifting of his big body. Itching to run, to grasp, to capture. To do.
    You could not force a seduction, she knew. Especially not with a man like this.
    A hunter must hunt.
    So give him something to hunt.
    Someone to hunt.
    “Brandon is a man of action—that is one thing we know for sure. Undoubtedly if I leave this house, he will follow. I cannot stay in here a moment longer. I need to remember who I am,” she said, more to herself than to Massimo. “I need to go hunt. And I will flush the pigeon out of his hiding place at the same time.”
    “Isn’t that taking an unnecessary risk, baronessa? ”
    She smiled. “Not at all. It will serve two purposes. You know the expression in Italian— Prendere due piccioni con una fava. The English translation is literally ‘to take two pigeons with one bean.’ But the real equivalent is ‘kill two birds with one stone.’ That, my dear Massimo, is what I intend to do.”
    She smiled to herself.
    The English had such a violent way of expressing the same idea.
    But in fact, the English saying expressed precisely what she planned to do.
    * * *
     
    The sun had just set over Venice, casting the city into a dim light. Across the street, Brandon saw a shape flicker, the merest hint of a shadow moving. He leaned forward, peering closer. And saw the figure of the demoness leaving through the side entrance of the house, a hooded cloak drawn over her head. She looked around covertly, then made a quick dash into the alley behind the house.
    He jumped up, running across the bridge after her.
    He tracked her as she wove through the streets, her dark cloak trailing behind her. There was something different about her, Brandon thought. Something hesitant. Was she in