Wandering Soul

by Cassandra Chandler

  “Why would they only take your mask?” Garrett asked.

  Elsa’s cheeks tingled and her heart clenched in her chest as she ran through different scenarios. She had valuables out in plain sight. Taking Dante’s mask and leaving everything else made this personal, like someone was taunting them. Her stomach churned at the thought.

  “And how did they get in?” Garrett nodded toward the door. “Did Winston forget to lock up?”

  “He wouldn’t do that.” Elsa reached for the key. “May I?”

  Dante handed her the key, his fingertips lingering a bit as they traced over her palm. Even with the fear, or perhaps because of it, his gentle touch sparked a shiver down her spine. She hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

  Elsa stood and walked to a drawer that held several sets of chopsticks. She grabbed one, then went to the door and pulled a piece of paper from the shelf under the phone. She put the key in the lock, then opened the door and stepped outside.

  She slid the paper under the closed door, then fiddled with the chopstick until she felt the key jiggle loose. It almost bounced off the paper she had ready below, but she was still able to gently pull the paper toward her until the key was in her hand. She opened the door again, stepping back inside and holding up the key.

  “Of course,” Dante said.

  Garrett shook his head. “How do you know this stuff?”

  “I’m a writer. It’s my job to know this stuff.”

  “That’s it.” Garrett pulled out his phone. “I’m calling the cops.”

  “No!” Elsa was standing close to Garrett now, and she reached out and grabbed his arm.

  “Why not?”

  That was a good question. Elsa didn’t have an answer ready. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “We don’t know for sure that someone was here.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “It’s my decision.” She wouldn’t let him argue with her about this. The police would have too many questions. They’d want to know about Dante and might ask him to prove his identity. She couldn’t risk that.

  Garrett let out a sigh, and she knew she’d won. She let go of his arm as he put away his phone. She’d never seen him so serious.

  “Fine.” Garrett picked up his bag, then fished around inside. He pulled out a small piece of black fabric. Brushing past her, he walked over to Dante. “I picked this up for you.”

  “Thank you.” Dante took the item and turned it over in his hands. It was a mask.

  Garrett stepped in close. As tall as Dante was, Garrett loomed over him.

  “You listen to me.” Garrett’s voice was a low growl. “Elsa and Winston are very important to me. They get hurt, and I’m coming for you.”

  “Garrett!”

  Neither man reacted to her exclamation. In a quiet and calm voice, Dante said, “I will protect them both with my life. I promise you.”

  “See that you do. I’ll be back to check on everyone tonight.”

  Garrett didn’t say another word to Elsa. He stalked out the door and slammed it behind him.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ve never seen Garrett act that way.”

  “He cares for you a great deal. I am glad for that.”

  “That doesn’t mean he should talk to you that way.”

  “I believe I would react much the same if our roles were reversed.” Dante went to the door and turned the key, then tried the handle to make sure it was locked. He stared out the windows for a few moments before turning to face her again. “Would you have hesitated to contact the authorities if I were not here?”

  She couldn’t say that she would have. “It doesn’t matter what I might have done. You’re here and I’m doing what I need to do to protect you.”

  “This is because I have no way to prove who I am.”

  “Dante Lucerne died over a hundred years ago. How am I supposed to explain you being here?” She shook her head, all the different ideas she had come up with so far churning through her mind, each with its own challenges. The best idea involved Dante feigning amnesia, and that was pretty weak.

  “It is not worth risking your safety.”

  “It absolutely is.” Elsa spoke with more force than she intended. She wanted to cover her outburst, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “I must have been on my best behavior when you observed me to have made such an impression upon you.”

  Elsa didn’t trust herself to respond to that. It wasn’t just witnessing his genius or his kindness. His isolation had struck a chord with her. She knew that. But he actually had a chance to form real, honest relationships with people in her time. To be accepted for who he was. She hoped that he was starting to realize that.

  Turning his new mask over in his hands, Dante smiled softly. He looked down at it for a moment, then set it on the table.

  “Shall we finish breakfast? Winston may be hungry when he awakens.”

  Her heart seemed to bloom in her chest. Dante was choosing to let her see him, leaving his mask behind. Even with everything else going on, Elsa couldn’t help but smile.

  Chapter Fifteen

  This was perhaps the happiest that Dante had ever been in his life. It was not just that he had a home, but that he had people who counted on him. He felt a sense of belonging he had not experienced since his mother passed away.

  Winston was sleeping comfortably after sharing a dinner with Dante and Elsa. Dante had convinced her to relax and indulge in a bath while he watched over Winston. After rinsing the last dish, Dante set it in the rack to dry. He pulled the plug free and watched the soapy water swirl down the drain, thinking of Elsa in her bath.

  The image of her in the large tub in her bathroom sparked a heady warmth in Dante’s chest, dropping quickly to lower parts of his body. They had spent the entire day together and she never once stared at him or seemed uncomfortable.

  Drying his hands, he walked to the table and picked up his new mask. He had not touched it since Garrett had left.

  Even though he’d directed considerable anger and suspicion toward Dante, Garrett had still made this thoughtful gesture. Dante would work to earn Garrett’s trust. He truly hoped they would become friends.

  Garrett was as nonplussed by Dante’s appearance as Elsa. Perhaps no one would have the visceral reactions as those in his time. It seemed impossible.

  As impossible as time travel. Dante chuckled.

  The bell sounded, and he set down his mask, heading for the front door. Garrett must have arrived to check on Winston. This would be Dante’s first chance to regain some of the lost camaraderie he had shared with Garrett on that first night. Showing him that Winston and Elsa were both well would be a good start.

  Opening the door, Dante smiled and began a greeting. The words died in his throat as he saw that it was not Garrett who had come calling.

  A slender Asian woman stood before him. Her smile vanished when she saw Dante’s face. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open, emitting a brief shriek.

  Dante backed away from the door, covering his scars with one hand. He began apologizing, not even certain what words he was using, and raced toward the kitchen.

  What had he been thinking? Opening the door without knowing who it was or how they would react. Of course people would still be shocked by his appearance. He pulled his new mask into place. It fit snugly with straps that stretched to conform to the dimensions of his head.

  Though it was more comfortable than his previous mask, he was already becoming accustomed to going without. He had never realized how wearing a mask chafed the raised flesh of his scars, or how stifling it was to have half his face covered.

  “It’s rude to leave visitors alone in your foyer, you know.”

  Dante jumped at the woman’s voice. He turned to find her standing in the center of the kitchen, hands on her hips, one
of which was cocked to the side in a cavalier manner.

  She wore black leather pants that hugged her legs like a second skin, with boots that rose to her knees. Her thin white shirt dipped down at the neck in a V and fit her thin frame perfectly. Thick black hair trailed down her back and hung about her face in windswept layers. One dark brow was arched at him, and she was frowning.

  “I beg your pardon, madam.” He tried to maintain as much of a dignified manner as he could. “I did not mean to startle you.”

  “You’re lucky I didn’t use my pepper spray on you.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I heard about the break in. Don’t worry. I locked the door behind me.”

  She walked to the sink and took one of the glasses Dante had just washed, filled it with water and took a long drink before turning around again. Her gaze was scrutinizing until a broad smile brightened her face.

  “You’re the Phantom that Rachel talked about! The actor Elsa hired to help with her book.”

  “I am Dante Lucerne.”

  He was eager to separate himself from the character, especially if he was to become part of Elsa’s life. She seemed focused on enabling him to move on, but even with a new world to explore, he found he could not bear the thought of leaving her.

  “Good name.” The woman looked Dante up and down as if she was assessing every part of him.

  Her gaze lingered on the exposed skin of his chest for long enough that a blush swept over his face. The woman, oblivious to his discomfort, began a slow circuit around him. She stopped when they were facing once more.

  “You are amazing. The mask is all wrong, though. Way too modern.”

  “It serves its purpose. Had I been wearing it when I answered the door, perhaps you would not have been so surprised.” He didn’t bother to hide the ire in his tone. He was only grateful that Winston and Elsa had not seemed to hear the disturbance.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I didn’t know who you were and someone just broke in.”

  “Indeed. But was that truly the only origin of your outburst?”

  The woman did not seem offended by Dante’s bluntness. Her smile turned to a wry smirk.

  “Is it makeup?”

  “No.”

  “You’re the real thing, then.”

  Dante did not bother to respond. He held her gaze as she boldly stared at him, her eyes calculating. He wondered if her mind ever stopped turning behind the deep sepia of her irises.

  “Okay,” she said. “Yeah, I was startled when I saw you. Your face is unusual and I wasn’t expecting it. Deal with it. Let’s move on.”

  “I beg your pardon?” He was quite taken aback. He had never heard anyone speak of his disfigurement with such nonchalance.

  “Back to begging?” She crossed her arms and smirked.

  “Who are you?” Each word came out as a gasp, exasperation winning out over his manners.

  “I’m Jazz.” She smiled brightly as she held out her hand. Dante took it, bowing curtly and pressing a quick kiss on the backs of her fingers. She arched an eyebrow. “Wow, you really are the real thing.”

  Perhaps that social custom had changed over the decades. He dropped her hand as he stood, then stepped away from her.

  This was Elsa’s oldest and dearest friend. He should try to make a good impression, but he was finding her quite overwhelming. Continuing in that vein, she grabbed his wrist with an alarming speed. Closing the space he had created between them, she pulled his arm closer to her face for further scrutiny.

  An insect under a microscope might feel similarly exposed while being examined. She ran her finger over paint stains on his sleeve, pale greens and blues from his latest landscape. He had meant to change shirts, but had been too busy enjoying Elsa’s company.

  “You’re a painter,” Jazz said.

  “Yes. Though I do not know what business that is of yours.” He wrested his arm from her grasp as politely as he could.

  “It is exactly my business.” Her gaze turned almost hungry. She pulled a small card from her back pocket and handed it to him. It read Jazz Gallery—Cutting Edge Art for the New Millennium.

  “Yes, you own a gallery.” He had been so flustered, that fact had slipped his mind.

  “This is just too good. You have to let me sell you.”

  “I assure you, I am not for sale.”

  “All you artists.” Jazz waved her arms at him and made tching noises as she shook her head. “You’re so concerned with not selling out. I’m concerned with putting food on your table. Let me represent you and I promise you will become one of the most famous artists of the decade. Not to mention all the money you’ll rake in. After my cut, of course.”

  “You have not even seen any of my work.”

  “I don’t need to see your work. I don’t sell art, I sell artists. And the biggest draw for an artist is mystique.” She made a point of looking him up and down. “Believe me, you have that covered. This whole Phantom persona is epic. Brilliant marketing. Your paintings could be stick figures and I’d still be able to sell them.”

  With a revenue stream of his own, Dante would not be reliant on Elsa for things such as a modern wardrobe. She was always so pained when she spoke of helping him to establish himself. With Jazz’s help, perhaps he could do so without Elsa’s involvement.

  The idea was very appealing. He stared at the business card in his hand.

  “Don’t tell Elsa.” He spoke before the thought had even fully formed.

  “Why?”

  Dante smiled, excitement brewing within him. “I would rather surprise her.”

  “I like the way you think.” Jazz returned his smile.

  If only she knew the maelstrom of thoughts circulating through his mind. Beyond his plans for what to do should he be able to support himself, he was beginning to wonder just how much of a hindrance his appearance would, or rather, would not be in this time.

  Rachel had complimented how he looked. She had not seen all of his face, of course, but it was still encouraging. Jazz had seen his face, and yet the way she stared at Dante was enough to make him blush.

  And then there was Elsa, with her shy looks and soft touches. A thrill passed over his skin, the mere thought of her hands on him causing gooseflesh to spread over his arms.

  If he could come to her as an independent man, if he had more to offer her, perhaps the misgivings that always seemed to creep into her gaze would vanish.

  Jazz walked to the counter and started to wash the glass she had used. “Now that we have that out of the way, how is Winston? I heard he fell.”

  “Garrett predicts a full recovery. Winston is sleeping at the moment.”

  “It is kind of late. I had to wait until I finished up at the gallery before I could stop by.”

  “Your circle of friends seems to be quite closely knit. I am amazed how quickly news has spread.”

  Jazz shrugged. “I had lunch with Garrett today. He’s one of my best customers and a good friend. I introduced him to Elsa, in fact.”

  “Another of your dates?” Dante did not mean to say it so harshly, but Elsa had explained that Michael was the man Jazz had attempted to set Elsa up with. Garrett, Dante could understand. Michael had been a woeful error in judgment.

  “What can I say? I’m a sucker for the romantic.” Jazz set aside the glass and dried her hands. “But don’t worry, no more blind dates from me. I can see Elsa’s off the market.”

  “I beg—” He cleared his throat as he decided on a different turn of phrase. “Excuse me?”

  If Jazz really thought that Elsa would consider having a romantic relationship with Dante, even after seeing him without his mask… He thought back to his earlier interlude with Elsa in her bedroom, when he’d been overcome with the urge to kiss her. If Winston’s fall had not interrupted them, Dante now wondered what would have
happened. She had not looked like she was going to pull away.

  “Come on. Aside from Winston, Elsa has lived with exactly two other people in her life. Me and you. And the only reason she lived with me was out of financial necessity. The way she doesn’t talk about it, I don’t even think she ever lived with her family. I swear that woman stepped into this world fully formed.”

  “You put too much upon her, viewing her in such a manner.” He did have to admit that Elsa was the most independent woman he had ever met. And though she spoke freely of his family, she had yet to mention her own.

  Jazz shrugged. “All I’m saying is, I’ve known Elsa longer than anyone and you are the first person other than Winston that she has chosen to live with of her own free will.” She leaned in very close. “I will expect an invitation to the wedding.”

  “Elsa and I are simply friends.” Or were they? The excitement growing within him surged through his body, his soul practically thrumming with delight.

  “I have a feeling there’s nothing simple about this relationship. Anyway, I won’t intrude. Please give Winston my regards.”

  “You do not wish to wait for Elsa?”

  Jazz grinned. “I’ll leave you lovebirds alone.”

  “As I said, our relationship is—”

  “Yeah, I heard you.”

  Dante followed Jazz to the front door. She turned to face him once more before leaving.

  “It was nice meeting you, Dante. I look forward to doing business with you and getting to know you better.”

  “And I, you, madam.”

  “Don’t call me madam. It’s Jazz.”

  “Of course. Jazz.”

  “That’s better.”

  And then she was gone, leaving him alone in the foyer, not quite sure what to do with himself. He locked the door and headed to his room, taking the stairs slowly as he thought over what had just occurred.

  He had a potential source of income, and Jazz believed that he had a chance at a romantic relationship with Elsa. It was all quite exhilarating.

  Of course, working with Jazz meant the issue of his lack of identity might come up sooner rather than later. Dante felt it was best to deal with the matter right away. Perhaps she would have some contacts who could help him. He would need to acquire funds to assist with his new beginning, but the only thing he had of worth was his mother’s ring.