The Passion Read Online Free PDF Page B

turned his eyes straight ahead, gazing off into the darkness. His features were lost in the shadow of the wolf, and after a time he resumed his tale.
    "It may surprise you," he said, "that this is a love story." And he smiled, softly, to himself. "Then again, in the greater scheme of things, it seems to me that al matters both werewolf and human eventual y come down to that…"
     
    PART TWO
     
    Paris
     
    1897
    [Humans] are savages at heart, just like we are. And that is the one thing for which they can never be forgiven.
    —FREDERICK PETROV, WEREWOLF 1648
    Man is only great when he acts from the passions.
    —BENJAMIN DISRAELI, A HUMAN 1844
     
    TESSA
    Chapter Two
     
     
    Tessa LeGuerre had planned the murder of Alexander Devoncroix for ten years. She knew she would never get a better chance than the one that presented itself the night of the October moon.
    Six months earlier she had joined the household as a chambermaid, an accomplishment which had been far easier than it probably should have been, by appealing to the sympathies of the majordomo with her woeful tale of being orphaned (true) and penniless (untrue). She had even gone to the trouble of pul ing off the top two buttons of her cotton shirtwaist to let a provocative few inches of skin show through before going into the interview, only to learn later that the subject of her wiles was immune to the charms of young girls, whether they be ful y clothed or not. He did, however, find her English-accented French appealing, and mentioned it specifical y when he gave her the position. It was that easy.
    After that, she had only to avoid the sharp eyes of Madame Crol iere, the housekeeper, who carried around a riding crop and disciplined her girls with a sharp rap to the knuckles for a sloppy sheet corner or a damp washbasin, and to spend every spare moment learning al that was to be known about the house of Devoncroix.
    Tessa had a quick and agile mind and a memory like a trap and in only a matter of days she had learned al the corridors and passageways of the twenty-three-room Paris town house, the cubbyholes and niches and hiding places, the closest staircases and the window embrasures which would hide a human form; which hinges needed oiling and which stair tread squeaked. She learned the quickest, quietest route from her attic sleeping quarters to the master's chamber; she learned how to make the journey without arousing her sleeping companions. She studied every detail of that inner sanctum, from the artwork on the wal s to the carpet upon the floor, the crisp white shirts in the linen press and the rich woolens in the wardrobe, the perfumes and pomades in his dressing room, the leathers and the silks and the jewel ed shirt studs. She could find each piece of furniture in the dark; she knew the broken latch on the window and the sticky hinge on the door. She had plotted every step of the night over and over again in her mind until performance was little more than an extension of imagination; a mistake or misjudgement would have been impossible.
    She stole a knife from the kitchen, a fine six-inch blade of hammered steel with a solid ash handle.
    She had heard somewhere that ash was best for these things, and she intended to take no chances.
    She secreted the knife inside the ticking of her mattress, where it could be found only if one knew it was there. Lavalier, the chef, raised a furor over its disappearance and kept the downstairs staff cowering for days, until final y he fixed the blame on an underchef, who was promptly dismissed. The knife was replaced, though Lavalier continued to complain that the replacement never sliced as fine as the original, but for the most part that was the end of that.
    Tessa had the plan, she had the knife, she had the means and she had the access. What she did not have, to her great frustration, was the victim.
    The master of the house was away when she joined his staff, and he was to remain so until the first week of October or