The Shades of Time (20 page)

Andreas blended
against the dank gray stonework, wrapping himself in his shadow
existence. He need not venture back to the hateful stink of the
warehouse district and the docks when the object of his search so
conveniently stalked the lower levels of the rectory. He would wait
and see what transpired.

Better yet,
perhaps he could engage in some mischief. There was no time like
the present to find out whether or not he could influence the
Demon's powers. And he knew exactly how to go about it.

Antonio slipped
quietly down the long hallway, masking his persona as best he
could. With the scent, the energy signature, so strong, he was
hard-pressed to think rationally when everything about him
threatened to collapse under the overwhelming sensations. His need
for answers drove him toward the narrow wooden door on his left.
Cautiously he pushed it open, his cinquedea in his right hand. He
had to crouch to enter the narrow room. The candle on the small
table fluttered in the breeze from the door opening before settling
into a steady flame.

The small
figure on the plank bed stirred and rolled over. The blanket
slipped to the floor leaving the figure exposed to Antonio's
horrified stare. Inexplicably his groin tightened and his cock
swelled as the girl spread her legs, eyes screwed shut, her face a
silent plea for mercy.

"No," he
breathed, "NO!"

With more
effort than he thought possible, he pulled away from the
temptation, seeking the source. He had felt this from Stefano, the
same unbridled desires and needs and shameless urges, though
this—this siren call in the black of night—came through as a
perversion. He could not, would not, yield to it. He bent down and
picked up the blanket, considered laying it on her supine body,
then decided against approaching her for fear he would not be
strong enough to resist. He tossed the cloth to the floor and
backed out the door, smacking the back of his head hard on the
lintel.

"God damn it."
He rubbed the back of his scalp, furious. "I know you're here," he
shouted down the long hallway, "come out now."

Silence greeted
him, then a slow dissipation of the energy until nothing was left
but for the intense gagging clutch of his throat. His face flamed
with shame at what he'd been contemplating. Disgusted with himself,
disgusted with the creature that stalked him, Antonio walked
blindly down the hallway seeking an exit from the hell he found
himself in.

The shadow on
the wall wavered, then settled as Antonio raced past, exiting
finally at the door leading to the rear stairwell. The clatter of
his hasty climb gradually dissipated. Andreas shook himself and
emerged into the dim light of the hall.

He muttered,
"That was too close." The Council would need to be informed, soon.
The man's powers were strong indeed, powerful enough to negate the
subliminal suggestion Andreas had implanted as soon as the man had
entered the chamber.

He'd been
following him, and the woman, assuming one or the other would lead
him to the key. But what if the Dark One was the key itself? With
powers that strong, and that precise a tracking ability, there
could be no other answer.

Andreas padded
softly back to the cubicle, entered, then shut the door once
again.

I wonder if she knows
, he
mused.
Has he revealed himself to you,
Veluria?

One side
benefit to his brief effort at influencing the Dark One had been a
glimpse into the man's convoluted thoughts. He'd gotten snippets,
mere impressions, but enough to know with certainty: someone was
missing, someone he cared about deeply, someone who vexed him.
There could only be one person who qualified—his idiot younger
brother. And if he had gone missing, probabilities suggested the
meddling operative would be involved, if not the actual
instigator.

He might not
understand her motives, but he had to admire her initiative.

Spreading his
robe he motioned for the girl to come forward on the bed. He needed
to think more on the situation. And what better way than this?

"
Succhiarmi il cazo,
bambina
," he murmured with satisfaction as
the girl's mouth suckled his cock.

Chapter
Fourteen

Antonio hissed,
"Are you certain?" He loomed over the terrified man.

Stuttering,
"Ye-ye-yes, M’Lord," the man hastened to clarify, "my informant saw
with his own eyes. There was no mistaking the woman. She is, um,
unique, according to my source."

Satisfied he had the truth of it, he waved to his
caporal de squadra
and said, "Well, then, Marco. Show our guest to
the door."

"And the
reward…?"

Terrified … and
greedy.

With a sneer he
said, "Marco, will you see to Sig.Vertucci's compensation?"

Marco nodded
his understanding and took the man's elbow, guiding him forcefully
through the rear door onto the dock where a small craft waited to
escort the man back to his domicile.

Antonio paced
restlessly. The man had outlived his usefulness. It would not do to
have him broadcasting to all and sundry the whereabouts of the
youngest of the Medici clan and the 'unique' woman keeping him
company. Marco would see that the weasel had an unfortunate
accident. They would do well to deal with the so-called informant
directly and cut out an avaricious middleman like Vertucci.

The stray
thought that his father would thoroughly approve of this decision
left a sour taste in his mouth. For all that he had railed against
his family's stranglehold on all their futures, in truth he
accepted, even believed, that the future of Florence and the
surrounding states rested squarely on the vast clan's control over
critical resources and political power. The situation with Duke
Friedrich was a veritable maze of conflicting loyalties, awash with
traps to ensnare the unwary and tip unstable alliances into hasty
decisions that would only benefit the French.

"What news?"
Cosimo limped uncertainly into the room looking quite the worse for
wear. He turned rheumy eyes to his eldest and asked, "Did you find
them?"

"Yes, Papà. Sit
down. You look like the devil. Can I get you some wine?"

"No. Get me my
son."

"I am working
on it." Antonio guided his father to a stool, settled him, then
pulled a chair close to him. He clasped and unclasped his hands, a
nervous gesture he'd not succumbed to since his youth. "I have a
thought."

"And that
is…?"

"That you allow
them to escape." As Cosimo reared off the stool, Antonio reached
with both hands and pressed the older man back down onto the seat.
"Hear me out."

"As you
wish."

"Venezia is at
odds with the French. We are not. Yet you persist in placing our
holdings in harm's way with your pursuit of political
advantage."

Cosimo
half-rose off the stool, then settled once again, with a curious
expression on his face. He was unaccustomed to his eldest
expressing an opinion or questioning his judgment. That his son
dared to do so now indicated that the situation warranted a
hearing, if nothing else. Tonio banked on the fact that Cosimo
would realize it cost him nothing to at least consider his thoughts
on the subject.

When Cosimo
seemed receptive, he continued. "I understand the need to ally our
house with the Habsburgs. I have no qualms with your choice, just
with forcing Stefano into this arrangement against his will. His
infatuation with the French woman may or may not be permanent. Only
time will tell."

"And that is
your solution? Time?"

"Yes … and no.
I suggest you let them run. They have contracted passage on a ship
leaving for Spagna on the morning tide tomorrow. I have arranged
with the captain to make several unscheduled stops along the route.
That will give us enough time to put my plan in place."

"And your plan
is…?"

"You alert
Friedrich that your youngest was enticed by one of the French
courtesans to join her at court in Paris. And this happened before
you were able to impart the happy news about the availability of
his lovely eldest daughter. Suggest to the Duke that he should meet
Stefano when they disembark and escort him back to the Tyrol where
he can encounter his intended."

"And the
woman?"

"Leave her to
me."

"Ah, I see. So
Friedrich is not the only one who will be greeting my wayward son.
May I assume Nico will have a role in this as well?"

Antonio smiled,
"A small part to play, but yes. He is most like Stefano, speaks his
language—he understands him better than either of us."

"And why this
change of heart? Just yesterday you were dead set against the
union. What is different now?"

"I cannot
explain, Papà, but I fear an evil influence, from that woman,
perhaps from another source. There is one other player I have not
yet identified. I came close tonight but failed to find him. And it
vexes me."

"Yes, I have
felt it also. So much so that my malady cripples me. Tell me
more."

"I suspect that
Veluria has powers that go beyond even my own. She can control how
you feel. I think she has enraptured Stefano, bewitched him … I
don't know what to call it. But I can tell you I have been the
victim of its powers, both from her and from this unnamed
entity."

"So you now
believe that sending him to Friedrich's will insulate him from that
woman's powers. Why not just steal him away yourself? You have the
means to hide him. Why would you agree to this arranged marriage
when you feel so strongly he will be unhappy?"

"Because he has
changed, Papà, changed because of me. He no longer knows himself. I
fear for him. And I cannot trust him to act in his own, or our,
best interests. Placing him at the Habsburg court would be like
hiding him in plain sight. I would know where he is and the Duke's
residence is not so far that I cannot keep an eye on him."

Cosimo nodded
sagely, clearly impressed with his eldest's reasoning. Though
convoluted, and beginning from a premise far removed from the
initial justifications, the logic remained sound and the outcome
potentially favorable.

"I am still
curious what you plan to do with the French woman."

"Study
her."

"Ah. And
perhaps bring her back home to Florence? My tasks here are nearly
completed. Our cousin, Guilio, the good Cardinal, returns to the
Vatican as we speak. Our shipping arrangements are in order. There
is nothing more to hold me in this den of pirates."

"Then I shall
return home with or without her. But I promise you this … she will
no longer influence my brother."

"Just take
care, Tonio. You are strong, yes. But never underestimate the
powers of a woman, especially that one."

"I understand."
Antonio walked to the terrace door, swung it open and waved to his
man standing on the dock below the walled gardens. "I must make
additional arrangements so that their escape does not appear too
easy. I assume you will see to the details with the Duke?"

"Yes, and send
me Luca. Unless you have need…?"

"No, good
choice. I will caution him to follow your instructions to the
letter. Now, until the morrow…"

"Tonio? How are
you getting to Spagna?"

Antonio
grimaced. "By horseback."

"But you don't
like…" Cosimo objected, but his son had already vanished into the
thick night.

****

Morning eased
in, stifling with cloying humidity. Veluria lifted her skirts and
stepped around a mound of hemp line littering the deck. She had
traded her ornate gown for a simpler travel garment of finely woven
silk but without the voluminous undergarments and stays. She felt
pounds lighter though the fabric held the heat and was still
grossly uncomfortable. Sweat trickled down her spine and beaded on
her forehead. All around deckhands chattered and moved with
precision, like a well-choreographed dance troupe, as the rowers
carefully guided the ship away from the dock.

She was about
to enter the aft cabin when shouting from the southern portion of
the dockyard caught her attention. A group of five or six men, all
sporting burgundy doublets and brandishing short swords raced along
the dock that paralleled the extension from which their ship moved
with agonizing slowness. A quartermaster and two burley dockworkers
stepped into their path. Veluria tried to move toward the rail for
a better look but Stefano grasped her shoulders and pulled her
toward the cabin.

"My father's
men," he gasped. "Get inside and stay there."

Veluria tried
to object but her lover hustled out the door, shutting and locking
it from the outside. The air in the tiny cabin reeked of stale rum,
urine and other noxious odors. That they would have to spend
possibly weeks on the vessel made her stomach churn. Worse yet,
having to entertain Stefano's increasingly unappetizing requests in
and out of bed gave her further pause as to the wisdom of joining
him on this insane flight from his family.

Not that I had
a lot of choice in the matter.

She had the gut
level feeling that she had seriously miscalculated Stefano's
motivations. When he had opened to her, revealing what his Demon
brother had done, how it had felt, how it had triggered a host of
hidden desires, she had been appalled. She vowed to save him from
the Dark One's evil influence, to protect him as best she could.
Running away was only one of several options, but it had the value
of buying her time to work out a more permanent solution. And for
all she knew, saving Stefano might be the pivotal event that reset
the timeline and saved both their worlds.