By Elizabeth Amber
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Additional resources for Raine
Several hundred were in attendance. Candles lit the stage, so they could easily see her. But beyond the candles, the crowd of onlookers appeared to her as shrouds with shadowed features. “Hermaphroditism has never been as pronounced in any other subject, now living or dead,” Salerno was saying. “This is a rare opportunity, I assure you. The subject is nineteen years of age. Such cases rarely endure so long. ” Jordan rolled her eyes. “No, really. Don’t bother trying to spare my feelings,” she muttered sotto voce.
Sparks of silver caught the candlelight. He’d seen her desire, his eyes told her, and he wanted her as well. But somehow she sensed he didn’t like it. “You’re a monster. A creature of the devil,” the squat man beside him stated with unshakable authority. The taller one remained silent, ignoring his companion. So he would not defend her. But then why should he? No one ever had. She would defend herself. Her eyes shifted from him to the other one. He wore the robes of a bishop. It mattered not what he thought, she told herself, but she could not let his slanderous comments pass unchallenged.
He’d wound up concluding he might not have been meant to find the daughter in Paris after all. That left the one here in Venice. It was just like Feydon to play such a cruel prank as to send him to this city, which held so many painful associations. He turned a corner and his jacket flapped in the breeze that came off the canal. At last! He started across the Rialto Bridge, passing the shops that lined it without pause. Ahead on the far side, a barge was unloading its cargo of wine along the Riva del Vin.