“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded.
“Max, darling,” Cassandra purred. “Come to rescue your whore?”
He saw the pistol she had dangling from her pale hand.
She straightened her arm and leveled it at him.
His stomach clenched. “Cassandra, what are you doing?”
“Taking what is rightfully mine. I’ve been looking for this for years, and now I’ll have eternal beauty.” She smiled broadly as her glazed eyes focused on the blue bottle in her hand.
“Sabine, are you and Calliope hurt?” Max asked, not taking his eyes off Cassandra.
“No,” Sabine said. “We’re all right. Max, she shouldn’t have drunk all of that elixir.”
“What’s going to happen to her?” he asked.
“She’s going to die,” Calliope said. “That much will most certainly kill her.”
“If you are trying to frighten me, it won’t work.” Cassandra set the bottle down and walked toward the restrained women. “I feel wonderful.” She looked down at her hands. “Look how smooth and lovely my hands look. Where can I find a mirror?” she asked Sabine.
“There is a handheld mirror in the drawer of the desk,” Sabine said. She motioned to the corner.
Max took the opportunity, while Cassandra was retrieving the mirror, to make his way closer to Sabine. “How long will it take?” he asked softly.
“I’m not certain. I’ve only known a handful of people to ingest it directly, and only because of grave injuries or disease, and then in very small quantities. A drop or two at the most, but an entire bottle, even a small one, will…”
Her voice faded as she shook her head.
“It won’t be long now,” Calliope said knowingly.
“Oh, it’s working,” Cassandra said, her voice full of awe and glee. “Look at my face. Look how lustrous my skin looks, how healthy.” She stared into the mirror, as if entranced by her own reflection.
“Is there anything we can do to stop it?” Max asked.
Calliope shook her head. “No. And it will be painful for her. Vanity is not a pretty way to die.”
As if Calliope’s words had commanded the elixir into action, Cassandra screamed in pain. She grabbed her face as the skin began to wrinkle and bubble.
“What’s happening to me?” she asked.
“We tried to warn you,” Sabine said. “The elixir is far too dangerous.”
Cassandra’s hands gnarled, and her face contorted in pain as she fell to her knees. Then she screamed, a noise so loud and so full of excruciating pain, it actually hurt Max’s ears. He made his way to Sabine and stood in front of her, holding her face against his side to block her from the sight of Cassandra’s painful demise.
“You did all you could,” he told Sabine.
“Max! Do something!” Cassandra screamed.
“I taunted her,” Sabine whispered.
“But you warned her. You couldn’t have prevented this.”
And then the screaming stopped, and Max knew that Cassandra was dead.
Spencer had followed Cassandra St. James’s carriage as it led her to Piccadilly, and she went into a small shop. Two hours later, and she still had not come out. He knew his lovely lady wasn’t the guardian. He’d spent several hours in her company the other evening, and after a while, his ring had dulled in color. And he’d known from that day in his office that the marquess hadn’t been the guardian; there had been no change at all in his ring that day.
The only explanation he could come up with was that somehow, she had been exposed to the elixir. He’d decided to follow her and see if she didn’t lead him straight to his target. It was well past closing for those businesses. After an hour of waiting, Spencer had moved to the alleyway. There he stood across the street, shrouding himself in the darkness as he hid on the stoop of a milliner’s shop.