When Twilight Burns gvc-4

by Колин Глисон

  Do you never do anything for yourself?

  This might be the one time he did.

  She wouldn’t be able to blame him.

  During the retrieval of the copper ring from the rooms Sebastian had rented, and the trip back to Victoria’s town house, Sebastian tried to argue with her. He wanted to approachLilith in her stead, or at least, with her. But Victoria was adamant.

  “You and Brim and Michalas-if they’ve arrived at last-will come in through the secret passageway, which, God willing, they’ve not yet discovered. If you have to fight your way in, at least they won’t be expecting three Venators.”

  When they reached the town house, they were relieved to find Brim, the mountainous, coffee-colored man with barely a brush of wiry hair and a vis bulla in his eyebrow. Michalas, the lithe, whip-slender Venator with tight, burnished curls, had also arrived. They, in fact, had been making ready under Wayren’s direction to travel to the Brodebaugh residence and provide their assistance.

  Victoria couldn’t have been happier to see them. Her confidence surged as she told them her plan.

  “I need not tell you to take care,” said Sebastian, a short while later, as the hackney left Victoria off near the entrance to the sewers. His face looked marginally better, for he’d washed away the blood and sweat, and had changed clothes. However, nothing could hide the mottling purple and red on his skin, and the strain in his eyes. The last knuckle of his maimed finger was bound and poulticed, thanks to Wayren. “And I need not tell you why it is important that you return.”

  Brim and Michalas nodded. But they said nothing.

  Indeed, there was nothing left to be said.

  Victoria slogged through the sludgy underground canal as she and Sebastian had done weeks earlier.

  The back of her neck was cold. Red-and some pink- eyes burned, glowing in the darkness of the sewer tunnels, but none made a move toward her. They blinked, and there was impatient rustling in the shadows, but Victoria ignored it. Lilith was too smart-and complacent-to rush things.

  When she came to the dead end of the sewer, where the rush of water fell down into darkness below, she easily found the narrow walkway that led up and along the side of the tunnel to the underground abbey. To her uneasy surprise, she realized she didn’t need a light. Her eyesight in the darkness continued to improve: a morbid reminder of her tenuous hold on mortality.

  Once at the top of the ramplike walkway, Victoria slipped through the narrow crevice. She slunk across the small space, then faced the first door, which led to the antechamber that had been empty during her first visit, and where she’d fought with the vampires while Sebastian hid the secret door. To her surprise, the door that had been bolted when she and Sebastian came was unlocked and easily swung open. But that made sense… for Lilith was expecting her.

  This chamber was still empty but for a pile of rags in one corner and a broken wooden chair. The back of her neck was frigid and her heart slammed in her chest. She walked across the room and pushed open the heavy door to the throne room.

  At first, it seemed as though her entrance had gone unnoticed. There were few occupants in the space-a small cluster of vampires sitting in chairs. Sara, standing nearby like a lady in waiting. Lilith, who sat in her large stone throne with her long, slender fingers curled over the arms, was talking to Sara.

  And Max. Thank God, Max.

  He sat next to the vampire queen on a low stone stool. His shirt was missing, his feet were bare, but he still wore the same trousers he’d donned this morning. Unbelievably, his skin was unmarked, though she saw a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. The silver vis bulla glinted uselessly in the midst of the dark hair on his muscled torso.

  Victoria looked at him, willing him to notice her. To see that she’d come, and would get them out of there, or die in the process.

  But then Lilith looked directly at her with red-blue eyes, and Victoria had to blink away in surprise before the thrall trapped her.

  “Nearly two hours, Venator. We’d begun to think you weren’t going to come.” Lilith smiled and reached over with a slender white hand to touch Max. He didn’t move. Languidly, she laced her fingers through the thick dark hair that fell in straggling waves around his face. He still hadn’t looked at Victoria, and that made her uneasy. Very uneasy.

  He didn’t appear to be restrained; his capable hands rested on his knees. Her palms became sweaty.

  “I’ve brought the Ring of Jubai for you. I want Max.”

  At that moment, he shifted, as if it were a casual move, as if he hardly noticed her presence. Or cared about it. He looked straight at her, and she was struck by the look in his eyes: fury, frustration. He was angry that she’d come.

  She could almost guess his thoughts: Bloody hell, Victoria. It would all be over by now if you weren’t so damned bullheaded and let me die in peace.

  But he didn’t understand. She would never leave him to this, or to die. She wouldn’t let him go.

  Lilith smiled, her fangs fully extended. “I thought that might be the case. I see that you’ve given him back his vis bulla. But,” she added thoughtfully, “first we must see how you are faring, Victoria Gardella.”

  She had been prepared for it, had known it was inevitable. But when Lilith grasped Max’s head and tipped it to the side, bending to the tendon at the junction of shoulder and neck, Victoria felt the slam of her heart vibrating crazily through her, suddenly taking over. As though it struggled to be released, to control her.

  This was the same scene she’d witnessed before, the same scene that still haunted her, which, she knew, was only the edge of what he’d suffered: brilliant coppery hair spilling over his bare torso, next to his dark head, the grimace of pain mingled with shameful pleasure that flushed his face, parted his lips in a silent groan.

  And the sounds: the soft gulps, the faint whistle of suction. The palpable alertness of the other undead in the room.

  Victoria had expected it, steeled herself for it… but the blood. The smell of it.

  Max’s blood.

  Her vision went hazy and pink, and she swallowed back the saliva that surged in her mouth.

  Lilith looked up at that moment, daintily wiping a drop of crimson from the corner of her mouth. “I see,” she said. Laughter and delight tinged her voice. “You’re further gone than I’d imagined.”

  Victoria couldn’t look at Max; she could barely breathe. Oh God, help me. Her fingers trembled, the stake lay untouched in her pocket.

  Lilith swiped a finger over the marks on Max’s skin, bringing away a fingertip tipped with red. Victoria could see it glistening from where she stood, and swallowed again. “Come, taste,” said the vampire queen.

  Victoria’s stomach rebelled, lurching sharply… yet she couldn’t draw her eyes away from the crimson trickling from Max’s shoulder. Her heart beat strong vibrations to her fingers.

  And then Lilith’s laugh, echoed by Sara, trilled over the back of her mind, and she used its horrible sound to pull out of the depths… of wherever she’d been. Her heart still pounded, her fingers trembled… but the tug had loosened enough for her to regain control. For the moment.

  “I’m here to negotiate,” she said, aware that her voice was perhaps not as strong as it could be. “Do you want the Ring of Jubai? Or shall I leave?” She swallowed, and the saliva did not return in the same salacious manner as before. The red in her vision eased to the edges, lingering, but no longer burning.

  “Of course I want the ring… but I’ll get it eventually. Soon, you won’t be able to deny me anything. And this is so much more entertaining. Are you quite certain you don’t wish to join me?” Lilith moved her hand possessively over the front of Max’s chest, her long nails threading through hair and over the plane of muscles, carefully avoiding the vis bulla on one side… then back up into the thick strands that brushed his neck.

  He remained unmoving, stoic, but unwilling to meet Victoria’s eyes. Yet she saw the pulse in the veins of his throat, and the visible tens
ion in his arms as they tightened, the press of his lips. She felt the revulsion and horror emanating from him, and yet he displayed no reaction.

  She realized in that moment that whatever had happened with Beauregard three months ago, whatever he’d done to her-and she’d accepted-during his attempt to turn her, had been nothing compared to what Max experienced at the hands of the vampire queen. Her stomach pitched at the thought of such ugliness.

  “I didn’t think you were willing to share,” Victoria replied, trying a different tack, concentrating on her breathing. Keeping it easy, slow, smooth. Trying to ignore the smell of blood.

  “For a Venator turned undead, I may perhaps make an exception,” Lilith admitted. “You are very close, Victoria Gardella. Can you not feel it burning inside you? The need? I see it in your eyes.”

  “You see nothing,” Victoria told her, wondering how much time had elapsed. Sebastian and the others should have been able to find the entrance to the secret passage behind the throne by now… they could be nearby. She simply needed to kill more time. “You merely see what you want to see.”

  “Indeed.” Lilith sat straight in her chair. “Let us find out about that.” She stood abruptly. Her long emerald gown, which was more in the style of Wayren than her cohort Sara, cascaded to her feet.

  The vampire queen gave a subtle jerk of her head, but Victoria was ready. She whirled as two undead swarmed behind her. Stake in her hand again, she knocked away the hands that grasped for her, grabbing one of the vampires and shoving the creature toward the other. Then, quickly, before they could regain their balance or react, she stabbed one. He poofed into ash, and the other stumbled backward. Victoria followed him with her own lunge, pushing him to the ground then following through with her stake.

  Standing in the pile of ash, she faced Lilith. “Keep your goons away from me.”

  The tall vampiress looked at her with burning red eyes. The blue had narrowed to the thinnest circle. “That was incomparably rude, Victoria Gardella. But don’t worry… I won’t allow you another chance to misbehave. Come with me, or I shall take out my frustrations elsewhere.”

  Max stood as though pulled by a puppet string, and Victoria did not miss Lilith’s implication. She watched him move, still smooth and graceful, yet reluctance be-laboredevery step. The vampire queen was tall, nearly as tall as he, and she circled his wrist with her skeletal fingers.

  Sara moved toward Victoria, and she saw that the blonde woman still carried the pistol that had stopped their escape earlier. Using its barrel, she pushed Victoria toward the door at the opposite side of the chamber.

  Victoria hadn’t been in this room before; in fact, she’d hardly noticed the entrance to it the two previous times she’d been in the throne room. The smell of blood was stronger here, and the space was lit, unlike the other, by two massive fireplaces-one at each end-and wall sconces. The flames danced black shadows on the stone walls so that they seemed to undulate in every direction. This chamber was much warmer than the other, nearly stifling with its heat.

  Or perhaps it just felt that way because of the thick bloodscent, the leaping shadows, and the warm light.

  The furnishings in this room included a long, low divan piled with cushions, tables and chairs, and, in the center, a dark shadow in the floor. On the other side of the shadow was another doorway.

  A low growl caught Victoria’s attention, and she turned to see three pairs of red eyes burning near the floor in front of one of the fireplaces. Six pointed ears cocked toward them, and then the three dogs rose, massive nostrils quivering.

  The hair on the back of Victoria’s arms lifted. They were huge wolflike canines with vampiric eyes and long fangs that curved outside their muzzles when closed. The head of the smallest one would be as high as her waist.

  They streaked over to Lilith, who commanded them with a mere flick of her fingers. The dogs sat promptly, but their attention, Victoria now saw, was focused on Max… on the fresh blood that oozed down his skin. One of them was furiously licking, half biting, at the finger Lilith had drawn through the blood moments before, but the other two sat at attention: eyes sharp, ears perked, mouths closed, fairly vibrating with bloodlust.

  “Now,” said Lilith almost kindly. “We shall see how strong you are, Victoria Gardella. And then it will be all over.”

  A cold web of fear covered her as she breathed hot, bloody, sluggish air and felt a drop of perspiration roll down her back.

  Everything happened very quickly, but Victoria could have done nothing to prevent it. Sara’s gun barrel poked her in the side, and the dogs sat sentry in front of her as three vampires moved forward at Lilith’s command. They placed heavy, clinking manacles on Max’s wrists, crossing them together at his lap. When they first approached, he stepped back, his teeth baring ferally… but when Sara prodded Victoria with the gun, he acquiesced.

  “That’s it, Maximilian. Don’t put an end to the experiment before it begins,” said Lilith. “And you need not worry, Victoria Gardella. I have no intent of harming your lover. This is merely a precaution so that he does nothing foolish.”

  Victoria looked at Max. His stony face gave no indication of what was in his mind. Even his eyes were flat and emotionless, and though he met her gaze, he gave her nothing else.

  Nothing for her, but also nothing for Lilith.

  The shadow in the middle of the floor turned out to be not a shadow at all, but a pit. As she realized this, Victoria turned cold again. She knew what awaited her.

  Before she could think further, the three vampires who’d chained Max came toward her. She fought them with stake and foot and red-clouded desperation, but in the end she was subdued by two of them. She took little satisfaction in the pile of ash that the other had become. Red burned her vision and her body trembled. Her mouth salivated. It took them all of their might to hold her steady when Lilith approached.

  Her fangs dipped into her thin lower lip. It was purplish in color and the incisors left little dark dents, revealed when she smiled. Victoria held her breath, expecting anything… but not the sudden swipe of nails over her cheek and neck.

  She felt the three claws dig into her face, and the burst of blood that followed as though it had been simmering below the surface… waiting.

  And then, before she knew what was happening, she was flying through the air, falling down, down, down… into the black pit.

  Twenty-Six:

  A View from the Stands

  Max saw the scarlet weals of blood erupt on Victoria’s skin. It would be over very soon. Whatever it would be.

  Damn her. Why in God’s name did she come here?

  At the scent of such fresh blood, the dogs surged to their feet, heedless of their mistress’s command. They snarled and drooled and tore after Victoria, leaping into the hole where she’d been flung.

  “Open your eyes, my dear Maximilian,” crooned Lilith near his ear. Her breath was hot over his flesh, almost liquid in its promise… and malignance. The scent of roses was nauseating. “You needn’t worry that she’ll die down there. I have the utmost confidence in her abilities. Now, come closer, so you can watch her at her best. She truly is magnificent.”

  She prodded him forward, and he obeyed. He understood what Lilith meant to do, and his palms grew damp as his insides churned. Hot tears burned his eyes. The silver ring was heavy on his finger, yet useless, dammit. Bloody useless.

  If there’d been one chance to get close enough to Victoria, he’d have lashed out, sliced her with it, eradicating Lilith’s opportunity for entertainment.

  Damn you, Victoria. Why didn’t you stay away? It could have been over by now.

  He didn’t want to look in the pit, yet he could not keep from doing so. You’d be safe. It was a mass of snarling teeth and writhing fur, slender white limbs, flashes of pale skin and fabric. Victoria had her stake; he saw it rise and plunge, awkward and desperate, even as the dogs snapped and bit and surged. He cringed at her gasps and cries, and hoped when there was a canine squ
eal or shriek. God, he hoped.

  Rather than mauling her all at once, the mastiffs seemed to come in waves… one after the other, lunging, biting, snarling, scratching, then rolling or dodging away in the pit to let the next come. The attack was so fast and relentless that Max could make out no details… only that Victoria had not been able to rise from beneath them. And her stake had not yet been effective.

  He didn’t realize he was jumping forward, down, until a horrible jerk on his wrist manacles whipped him through the air, then slammed him back onto the ground, fairly yanking his arms from their sockets. Rough stone tore his skin raw as he skidded across the dirt and rock. Blood oozed from his wounds as he crawled rapidly back to the edge of the pit, feeling the strain of hard breathing coursing through him. If he could get down there, he needed only a moment, and the ring would do its job.

  But another powerful drag pulled him back, sending him sprawling onto his spine, head whipping back hard onto the stones. He breathed heavily, looking up into the furious face of Lilith. “Do not try such a foolish thing again,” she said. “Or I’ll release them fully.”

  Max clambered to his feet, head pounding, fists clenched. He wanted to beg, his mouth formed the words, he drew in the breath to plead… but he knew it would do no good. Lilith would lap it up like her vampire dogs and stroke him like the pet he was… and she would do what she wanted anyway, reveling in his pain and using his weakness to control him, to destroy them both.

  Christ Almighty, his weakness was two bloody women. The vampire and the Venator. The seductive evil incarnate and the feminine warrior.

  There was a sudden sharp squeal and a soft explosion. Then quiet.

  He surged to the edge again, looking back down into the blackness, hoping… Her white fingers were there, bloody, digging into the small cuts on the side of the pit, pulling her battered body up… not so far from the edge, and Max plunged his chained wrists down to help drag her up, heedless of Lilith standing behind him, of her triumph in seeing his weakness. There were no dogs left… only the smell of vampire dust on the air.