The Mosaic

Chapter 55 | King and Lionheart

The moon was bad company.

Alessandro's heart was bursting, but his head was utterly void. The turmoil in his chest swirled restlessly. The villa was long asleep, his steps echoing through empty halls, pacing between silver bars of moonlight like a lion trapped in a cage.

He certainly felt like it, a circus animal made to jump and impress, endlessly tired and yet eternally angry.

He hated being confused. He needed control.

Perhaps that was why he had so quickly warmed up to Lorenzo, easy going, smiling, simple. He offered warmth and smiles. Giacinto was ice cold water doused over Alessandro's head any time he felt like he had gotten a step ahead.

He was so irrational he made Alessandro irrational.

He had no reason to feel this way. His throat shouldn't feel so raw and torn up by an old story. Daniele had loved him, but lovers made the worst enemies.

And what if Lorenzo hadn't kissed his cheek goodbye? That was a ridiculous habit.

He liked that habit.

And he barely knew Lorenzo. It made no sense. Was Lorenzo just gorgeous, kind and very available?

His heart gave an angry push at that, knocking his neat little piles over again. Alessandro dragged a hand through his hair. 

He shoved his emotions back in the stone coffin of his heart.

Worrying was a waste of time. He couldn't influence Lorenzo's decision now. And whatever he was feeling at Giacinto's sharp twist of attitude today was ridiculous. He had no time for his jester heart.

Focus on the mission. He would solve this. He solved everything.

Except the Shadow, whispered the delighted little voice from the cracks of his walled mind. He ignored it. The Shadow didn't matter now, except his involvement in the two robberies before his and Giacinto's arrest.

Alessandro turned on his heel and strode back inside. Those were the right thoughts.

A few days before their arrest, Guido's notes had been stolen from his father's villa. The Shadow shouldn't even know about the Order of Seven. Alessandro hadn't known until he had to follow the trail of their corpses.

The Shadow always vanished for months – but just days later, another break in. In the light of day. He had been spotted by the guards. He had killed.

The shadow was precise. He was never seen on the scene – though there were rumors about him, red eyed and flying over midnight canals. Mad fairy tales spun by drunkards in foggy midnight streets. And he never killed.

It wasn't the shadow. Either a copy cat attracted to famous criminals like a fly to rotting flesh, or it was staged. 

Alessandro had arrived at the scene not even an hour after – and been arrested on the spot.The doge's guards shouldn't have known where he was. But who could have done this?

This required money, power and a connection to both the police and the doge. His thoughts twisted into a familiar freckled face and blood red curls. And he had seen Daniele at the police court, in that high window ... or was it a trick of light? Moonlight and blood spinning together to embody the glass eyed god of his anger, his fear?

How could Daniele have known Giacinto would be there?

It happened too fast. One moment he was plucking pieces from the bloody shards of his glass love and the dark silhouette of the Shadow, the next he rounded a corner and something slammed into his chest.