Wandering Soul

by Cassandra Chandler

  “But I can expect her to respect your personal boundaries,” Elsa said, that fire now directed at him. He did not shrink away from it.

  “It is I who decide my own boundaries. And it is I who have the right to offer forgiveness, which I most certainly do.”

  Elsa’s eyes flashed with anger, but she held her tongue. Beside her, Jazz was smiling, as if this spectacle amused her. The thought irked Dante as much as anything else from the evening.

  Was this the introduction that Jazz had planned for him? If so, he would most certainly have words for her. To start, he wanted to know if she was the one who had put Rachel up to this. He had seen enough manipulation in the theatre to know when someone had been goaded into action.

  In the meantime, Dante found himself at the center of too much attention. A few people turned away when he met their gazes, lips curling in distaste, but most simply seemed curious. Many had already moved on from the matter, going about their own business.

  There were whispers and stares, but no screams, no pointing. There was no fear.

  Jazz raised her arms over her head and clapped loudly. “Okay, everybody. This isn’t performance art. This is a dance. Get back to it and cut the gawking.”

  She cast one final grin toward him, then whispered something in Elsa’s ear. Elsa’s eyes widened for a moment before she turned to glare daggers at Jazz as she walked away.

  Dante wanted to retreat, to cover his face and find the nearest shadow where he could hide and get his bearings. But that would be letting himself be cowed by the few lingering stares still cast his way.

  This was a new world, and he would be a new man in it—a man who was not ashamed or afraid to show his face.

  “Are you okay?” Garrett was standing just behind Dante, and he started at hearing Garrett’s voice so close.

  “Yes, I am fine.”

  Garrett rewarded Dante with a smile and even briefly placed his hand on Dante’s shoulder. Looking to Rachel, Garrett said, “I’ll be in the back showroom when you’re ready to leave.”

  “Thanks.” Rachel sniffled loudly as Garrett left the dwindling group. She smiled up at Dante. “Jazz is the boss. Can we finish our dance?”

  “Of course.”

  Elsa’s head whipped back toward Dante and, for a moment, she looked stricken. He could see her pushing away whatever was paining her, just as she shoved away her fear when Winston had fallen.

  This time, her expression became completely blank. No fire, no ice, no warmth. No Elsa.

  In that moment, Dante felt that she was more distant than when decades stood between them. She turned away, quickly disappearing through the crowd.

  Rachel stepped in front of him, lifting his hand in hers as she pulled them into the dance again. The waltz could not end quickly enough. He kept staring out over the crowd, no longer caring at all that he was without a mask. He only wanted to catch a glimpse of Elsa.

  “I really am sorry,” Rachel said, drawing him back to his present company. “I had no idea.”

  “And I truly forgive you.” Dante managed to glance at Rachel for long enough to smile at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, the forget-me-not blue of her irises shining brightly from the contrast.

  “How did it happen?” Her voice was soft and timid.

  He considered how to respond to her inquiry and found he could not malign his brother. Finally, he settled on saying, “A much more unfortunate accident.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.” How very long indeed.

  “Is Garrett your doctor?”

  “I suppose you could say so.”

  “He’s a great doctor. I didn’t know he did plastic surgery, though.”

  “How would one perform surgery on plastic?” Dante had researched the material after it came up so often in his other reading.

  Rachel gave a tittering laugh. “Very funny. Is Garrett going to perform the surgery, or is he working with someone else on your case?”

  “I have no plans for surgery of any kind in my future, if I can avoid it.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed he was helping you with…”

  “With what?”

  “You know. Your scars.”

  Dante stopped dancing quite suddenly. Their momentum caused Rachel to stumble, but he caught her up against his chest so she did not fall.

  “I apologize,” he said. “That was careless of me.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “If you could clarify…” Dante’s mind was reeling from the thoughts speeding past.

  In his time, he had heard of techniques that were being developed to change peoples’ appearance. Nothing showed enough promise to give him hope, but that had been over a hundred years ago. With the advancements in other areas he had seen, he wondered what had been accomplished in this field.

  “Are you saying that Garrett could perhaps remove the scarring on my face?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but you should definitely talk to him if you haven’t already. Maybe he can refer you to a specialist. There are plenty of people out there who can do reconstructive surgery. If it’s something you want, you should keep looking until you find someone who can help you.”

  “Reconstructive surgery…”

  Dante felt a rush of adrenaline spread through his body at the thought. As he soared on the surge of hope, his stomach suddenly clenched, the leaden weight of it dragging him back to cold reality.

  Elsa would know of this. This was her world, after all. She would know that there were surgeons who might be able to help him. But then, why had she not mentioned this yet? Why would she keep this possibility from him?

  “Are you okay?” Rachel asked. “You look angry.”

  “I am quite fine, I assure you.” Dante reined in his temper and put forth a placid expression. He might not have ever taken to the stage, but he had spent over a decade in the theatre. He knew how to act. “I do find myself growing tired. It has been quite an eventful evening.”

  “I suppose I didn’t help any.”

  “On the contrary.” He lifted Rachel’s hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “I found your company most illuminating.”

  Rachel laughed, but some of her nervousness had returned. Perhaps she was not as comfortable with his appearance as he thought.

  No matter. He had more important things on his mind. He bowed curtly and then headed through the crowd to find Elsa.

  He would have answers. And he would have them now.

  Chapter Twenty

  The evening was turning into a nightmare. Elsa had planned to eventually have a dinner party where Dante didn’t wear his mask. She wanted him to be comfortable with the people she invited, to ease him into the idea. Instead, Rachel had ripped off his mask and thrown it on the floor, leaving him exposed for everyone to see.

  And he hadn’t minded a bit.

  This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? He was interacting with people without wearing his mask, and he seemed perfectly comfortable. Aside from a few rude gawkers, no one was paying attention to him.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. A few clusters of women had gathered at the edge of the dance floor, no doubt waiting for their chance to dance with him. They would all have to wait. He was completely absorbed by whatever Rachel was talking about as they danced.

  The surge of jealousy that rose up within Elsa was like a tidal wave. It knocked the wind from her, made her dizzy. When Rachel stumbled into Dante’s chest and he held her close, Elsa felt like she might be sick. The irony of her situation tore through her.

  She had been clinging to her hope that Dante would choose her, even after meeting other women and learning that he had options. She thought maybe after dating some other people he would return to her.

  Only now did she realize her mistake. What woman would
let him go once they had him? What if Elsa had to stand aside as he fell in love with someone else?

  She had a horrifying vision of standing in a church among other bridesmaids as a radiant Rachel glided down the aisle to Dante’s waiting arms. Elsa’s stomach churned again at the thought. She shook her head, trying to force the image away. It was too much.

  She glanced back in their direction, but Dante didn’t seem to be dancing anymore. He was striding through the crowd, stopping occasionally to either look down as if someone was speaking to him or to scan the crowd.

  The bodies between them parted enough to give her a glimpse of women in sultry outfits circling him like piranha. Elsa could almost hear her heart shattering like Dante’s mask. There was no one to help her pick up the pieces.

  Desperate for space and air, she made her way to the exit. She sat on a bench seat in the foyer near the front door. When Dante was ready to leave, he would find her. She hoped he would be alone and not escorted by some woman looking to go home with him. Her stomach tightened with dread.

  At least now he knew he didn’t have to wear a mask to be accepted, to be desired.

  Maybe it was time to tell him about reconstructive surgery. The thought of him going through a surgery she felt was unnecessary made her feel half sick. There were always risks. Garrett had been clear on that point. But it wasn’t her decision to make.

  If Dante wanted reconstructive surgery, she would support him however she could. Unfortunately, the most helpful thing she could do was obtain a legal identity for him. There would be paperwork to fill out and questions that would need to be answered. She still had no idea what to do about that.

  Her thoughts were chasing their tails when a smooth voice brought them to a halt. “It’s a sin for a beautiful woman to be alone.”

  A man in a cat mask sat down next to Elsa on the bench, leaning in close enough to make her uneasy, but not so close that she felt justified in doing something about it.

  “If I see any I’ll let them know.”

  “So modest.”

  The cat mask had a mane of dark hair attached with streaks of color running through it like a tomcat. The man’s smile revealed two rows of perfect white teeth.

  There was something about his eyes that gave Elsa a chill. They were cold blue. Emotionless, even when he smiled. She had longed for solitude when she left the party, but she suddenly found herself wishing there were more people nearby.

  He leaned back against the window at an angle that put him even closer. “You’re very reclusive, being out here all by yourself.”

  “I prefer to think of myself as selective.”

  “How interesting. You’d rather be a snob than a recluse.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  Before she could finish her argument, Dante stormed into the room. His eyebrows were lowered over his forehead, his hair in disarray, and his lips pulled down in a deep frown. Something else must have happened, and she had left him alone to deal with it. How could she have been so selfish?

  Elsa leapt to her feet, guilt and relief warring within her as she ran away from the man on the bench.

  “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

  “I am fine, thank you.” Dante’s voice was cold and tense. He glared at the man sitting on the bench. “I do not mean to intrude.”

  “You didn’t intrude,” she said. “I was just waiting for you.”

  “Well, I am here.”

  “Are you ready to go home then?” She hoped so.

  Before Dante could respond, the stranger from the bench stood and walked over to them. “Leaving so soon? But we were only just getting to know each other.”

  “Perhaps another time.” Elsa stepped closer to Dante, latching onto his arm as if he was a buoy on a stormy sea.

  The stranger stared at her hands on Dante’s arm, his gaze beyond cold. It almost seemed predatory. Dante must have picked up on it too. He put his arm around her waist and started leading her to the door.

  “I’ll take you up on that, Elsa.” The stranger strolled back toward the rest of the gallery.

  Elsa didn’t remember giving him her name. Hearing him say it sent a chill down her spine. She couldn’t keep herself from casting one last glance over her shoulder. Dante followed suit, pausing at the exit.

  The man pointed to the right side of his face and said, “By the way, just because this is a masked ball doesn’t mean you can crawl out from under your rock and pretend to be a normal person like the rest of us. Next time, stay home at the freak show.” He stepped through the doorway, disappearing into the crowd.

  At first, Elsa was so shocked that she simply stared after him. Then, fire flooded her veins.

  She wasn’t sure what she was going to do to that man. She did know that he wouldn’t like it. She took two steps before Dante tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her back against his chest. He spun her around to face him.

  “Let it go.”

  “Didn’t you hear what he said?”

  “Yes, I did. And it is a sentiment that I am quite familiar with. His words speak more of his character than mine.”

  “How can anyone be so callous?”

  “He seems a man who is very accustomed to getting what he wants. I have met his sort before.” Dante brushed a lock of hair behind Elsa’s ear, then cupped her cheek and tilted her face toward him. “Think no more of it.”

  She wasn’t sure she could manage that on her own. He must have sensed her need for distraction, because he stepped closer and slid his hand to the small of her back, all but pressing their bodies together. He let his fingertips trail along her skin as he shifted his other hand from her face to her shoulder.

  The warm breeze from outside couldn’t touch the heat that was rising within her. A hint of a smile lifted the corners of Dante’s lips. His full, kissable lips.

  She needed to do something quickly before this escalated any further. She looked away from him and pulled back a bit to break the spell of the moment.

  “I’m sorry I left you alone. I just needed a minute to get some air.” She could use even more of it now. Cold air. Or maybe a cold shower.

  “I quite understand.” He kissed her forehead so lightly she barely felt the brush of his lips on her skin. “Let us go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The sky was inky black when they arrived at the manor, pinpricks of light scattered over the darkness above like diamonds. Concern had long since usurped Dante’s anger. Elsa had hardly spoken to him after they left the gallery. During the drive home, she sat on the opposite side of the car, never once reaching for his hand.

  In the foyer, she placed her feathered mask on a side table and stood with her back to him. Not knowing what else to do, Dante pulled the bundle from his pocket that held the remnants of his own mask and set it next to hers.

  Hoping to draw her into conversation, he said, “Your friends are every bit as gracious as I would expect from knowing you.”

  “You really felt comfortable, even without your mask?”

  “Very much so.”

  Elsa smiled at last, and the light he loved so dearly returned to her eyes for a moment. They were still pinched, as if she were in great pain, but did not wish him to know.

  “I’m glad it was such a good experience. I hope that you understand things better now. Your options.”

  “Options?”

  “You’ve seen that people will accept you as you are.”

  “You have already shown me that. I do not care what others think, only you.”

  She winced and her smile vanished. “I’m not the only person who accepts you. I wanted you to know that. You can have other relationships. Other friends.”

  “Friends.” He let the word roll around on his tongue. He did not like the taste of it at all. Not when speaking of himself and Elsa.

&nb
sp; “And more, if you’d like.”

  His gaze snapped back to hers, but she was staring very pointedly at the tile floor. She had gone quite pale. Dante’s heart started thundering in his chest. It was a wonder she did not hear it, standing so close at his side.

  “Rachel seemed fascinated by you.” Elsa’s voice was reedy. She cleared her throat before continuing. “So did the other women that approached you after your dance. I wanted you to know that you don’t have to change to have relationships with other people.”

  “I am not certain that I understand.”

  “That’s because I haven’t told you about this yet.”

  Her features were pulled so tight, she looked as though she might shatter at any moment. Her eyes had become glassy, and she had to clear her throat again before continuing.

  “I know that this has caused you grief throughout your life.” She reached up and gently stroked the right side of his face. Her fingers were as delicate as feathers. “I’ve heard other people say worse things to you than what that man at the dance tonight said. I know it affects you more than you show.”

  “Elsa—” Before he could say more, she silenced him, sliding her thumb across his lips with that same maddening touch. She stepped in closer, resting both of her hands on his shoulders.

  “We’ve been focusing on the technological advancements that have occurred since your time, but there have been medical advances too. We haven’t talked about them yet. But it’s possible that you might be able to have reconstructive surgery to remove some of your scars. We still need to work out your identity issue, but if you want, we can talk to Garrett about whether you’re a good candidate.”

  “Is this what you want for me, then? To change how I look?”

  “Absolutely not!” The fierceness of her tone left no doubt she meant what she said. “I don’t care what you look like. All I care about is who you are.”

  Dante stepped closer, leaving very little space between them. He dared to rest his hands on her waist. “I believe you.”