Company of Angels 02 - The Demoness of Waking Dreams

even her blood run cold.
    “Of course,” he said.
    She shivered at the thought of it, the image of that magnificent body defiled in such a way. There was no doubt in her mind that Corbin would carry out his threat. That he would revel in doing it.
    “Don’t come back until you’ve done your job,” Corbin said blandly. “What a shame it would be if a pretty girl like you were sent back to hell, even if you think it’s a better alternative to being up here. The Gatekeepers down in the underworld will love it. You should last about thirty seconds intact.”
    He ran his hand down the front of her body.
    She drew back and slapped him.
    For a terrified moment, she waited, as something dangerous rippled in those eerie amber eyes of his. He said, “You don’t know what kind of war you’ve started, my dear.”
    Then he shoved her roughly onto the bed.
    “Don’t waste any more time. The devil doesn’t wait for anyone. Stop stalling, and don’t come back until you’ve done your job.”
    Massimo watched Corbin walk down the staircase of the palazzo. As he passed Massimo, who stood on the landing, he nodded cordially and then exited the house.
    A few minutes later, Luciana came out of her bedchamber, dressed for the evening.
    “Baronessa?” he asked, noting that her throat was bruised and a little blood seeped from her left ear. “How may I assist you?”
    “You must go, Massimo. Leave here now, and don’t come back. You must forget you ever knew me. Promise me you will go.”
    She stared at him with her intense gaze, and he nodded.
    Then she walked down the stairs and out the front door.
    Massimo watched her leave, and said to Violetta, “She’s heading to La Fenice. That’s your territory. Go and watch over her. Please, even if you hate her, do this for my sake. If she needs help, come back and get me. I’m not leaving her. Not when she needs me.”
    “Of course not,” the girl said without hesitation, pressing a ghostly finger to his lips. “If we don’t get another chance, then let this be our goodbye.”
    “We will see each other again, my love,” Massimo promised her, even though he knew with an aching certainty that they would not have another moment together. “But until then, know that I love you with all of my dark heart.”
    * * *
     
    Across the canal, Brandon readied himself for his rendezvous with Luciana.
    He showered in the makeshift shower the Venetians had rigged in the back of the house, grateful for the rudimentary plumbing job they had done. The cool water put him at ease, soothing his anxious mind in the relentless humidity.
    No, this was a different kind of stakeout entirely.
    There was still so much at risk.
    “Why did she ask you to meet her at the opera?” Arielle wondered aloud, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. She watched him as he stood shaving over a stone basin and a propped-up mirror. “That’s such an odd meeting place.”
    “Honestly, I think she just threw it out there. I don’t know how her mind works. But you wanted me to win her trust, right? That’s my job, isn’t it? That’s what I was sent here to do,” he said grimly. “I’ve got to change, so do you mind giving me some privacy?”
    Arielle’s idea of privacy was to turn around, going to look out one of the windows on the pretense of looking at the canal below. She said, “It’s nothing I haven’t already seen.”
    Not for a long time, you haven’t, he thought.
    One of the larger Guardians from the Venetian unit had contributed a black suit and white shirt. Brandon deliberated arguing with Arielle, but thought better of it. Shedding his jeans, he pulled on the dress pants, the shirt.
    “I don’t know how the Italians stand dressing up in this heat,” she said, turning around. She touched the open shirt at the neck. “You look like a different man. Not like the usual Brandon I know.”
    He pushed her hand aside and headed for the door.
    “Are you falling in love with her?” Arielle asked, stopping him in his tracks.
    He turned. It was perhaps the first time he had ever seen real emotion on Arielle’s face. Real lines on her forehead, creasing her brow. Real pain.
    “Of course not,” he lied. The lie burned in his mouth, and he hated himself for telling it.
    “Good. I know you might not agree with our plan to dispose of her. But it will take an eternity to reform her otherwise.”
    “I see,” Brandon said. He knew already what was coming.
    “It’s the best thing