“Have you any idea,” he asked, “how your grandmother died?”
“In her bed. She was sick, had probably been sick for quite some time.”
“Florinda poisoned her.”
“So?”
“You have Costanza’s eyes.”
“And here was I thinking, just now, that we might be friends.”
“She looked very like you when she was young. She was a pretty girl, and later a very beautiful woman.”
In her heart she was grateful to him for infuriating her like this. It made it easier not to be overimpressed by his aura of superiority. “Why did you want me to come here?” she asked, to end the discussion of Costanza. “On the phone you said it was one of your conditions. So now I’m here. Why?”
“Because I wanted to see who you are. What you are.” With a muted sound, he placed the palm of his hand against the glass pane, spread his fingers, and pressed them against it. “How long has it been,” he asked, “since you learned about the Arcadian dynasties?”
“A few months.” She couldn’t help staring at his hand, the deep lines on it, the long, slender fingers.
“Your mother never told you?”
“I’d have thought she was crazy if she had.” As Rosa said that, she had to admit to herself that Gemma had been right there. And probably about some other things as well.
“What was it like when you shifted shape for the first time?”
“It felt…forbidden. Like a kid staying up late at night for the first time because there’s no one else home.”
“Isn’t it a shame that we have to hide something so wonderful from the world?”
“I guess it’s not so wonderful for the world.”
“There have always been hunters and hunted. Some who get what they want because they’re strong enough. And others who kneel to them. No civilization, no progress will change that. We didn’t make those laws; life itself did. What I stand for isn’t a step back. It’s the end of our self-denial. The end of a great lie.”
She was finding it increasingly difficult to resist his charisma. The labyrinth of lines on his hand, the forcefulness of his voice—it was like standing in front of an ancient temple, a place still awe-inspiring after thousands of years.
“We have lived in the shadows long enough, hiding what we really are from others,” he went on. “It’s time to be ourselves again. And that has already begun. You, too, are an element in that change, Rosa.”
“I am?”
“Lamias have always distinguished themselves from other Arcadians. That’s why there aren’t many of you left. You rebelled and followed your own aims. Guile and deceit were always your sharpest weapons.”
“I prefer more direct methods,” said Rosa, thinking of her stapler.
“You are snakes. Your venom works slowly and in secret. I should have guessed that I owed the last thirty years behind bars to Costanza. Instead I believed the faked evidence pointing to the Carnevares. Did you know that they were once my closest allies?”
She nodded.
“Today I have other faithful assistants out there. They’re more effective than the Carnevares ever were. I should be grateful to your grandmother. All that time in my cell has opened my eyes to new allies. I’ll soon be leaving this place, and I owe that to them.”
Rosa watched his fingers curl against the pane. The palm of his hand withdrew a fraction of an inch, looking darker, while his fingertips were a semicircle of pale points against the black background. Rosa couldn’t take her eyes off them.
“Is it true,” she asked, “that it was the Lamias who toppled Lycaon from the throne of Arcadia?”
The hand abruptly withdrew into the darkness. His whole outline was barely visible now. He must have stepped back. “I had reason enough to wish every one of you dead,” he said after a pause, without answering her question. “But I, too, have learned my lesson. I was wrong to let my wish for revenge on the Carnevares consume me. I want a new beginning, not retribution. The dynasties have played the part of gangsters for too long, regarding the business of their Cosa Nostra clans as more important than their origin and their destiny. If all that is to change, there must be new blood. New leaders who don’t care about controlling the drug market in Paris or real estate funds in Hong Kong. Join me, Rosa, and all the sins of your ancestors will be forgotten. And if young Carnevare learns that his Arcadian inheritance is more important than his position as capo of