by Колин Глисон
"Yes. But how can I—"
"You will. You will find a way to corner the creature. You are Chosen, cara. You are Chosen because you have the skills. All you must do is listen to them." Eustacia's eyes glittered like the jet beads woven into Victoria's hair. Her gaze was filled with intensity, certainty, and Victoria suddenly felt the heaviness of the weight she bore. Tonight was her first test. If she passed it, her aunt would reveal all to her.
If she didn't…
That did not bear thinking about. She would succeed. She had spent the last four weeks learning how to move and strike at a vampire. She was as prepared as she could be.
"Good evening, Miss Grantworth," said a dainty woman approximately her own age. "I am Lady Gwendolyn Starcasset, and I was hoping to make your acquaintance. I'd like to congratulate you on a lovely debut. The white-washed trees hung with silver garlands are a beautiful touch."
Gwendolyn was daintier and smaller than Victoria, with honey-blond hair and golden eyes. A smattering of freckles were sprinkled over her shoulders and across her back; but the front of her bosom was lightly powdered so as to hide the ones there. She had a charming dimple that settled to the right of her mouth when she smiled, as now.
"Good evening to you, Lady Gwendolyn. Thank you for your compliment; but I can take little credit for the decorations. That is my mother's doing. She is much more comfortable with these sorts of things than am I."
Because Victoria had been in mourning for two years, after her grandfather's and then her father's deaths, and the Grantworth family had spent an inordinate amount of time in the country at their Prewitt Shore estate, she knew very few young ladies her age. Of course, that dearth in friendships could have had to do with the fact that Victoria preferred to spend time haring about the countryside—or at Regents Park—on her mare, or reading books instead of making calls and genteelly sipping tea. Regardless, she felt more than a little delighted to have the chance to converse with a girl her own age.
Feeling a renewed shiver over the back of her neck, Victoria took a moment to look out over the crowded room. Where was he?
"So now you can join the rest of us eligible misses and parade around at balls and the like, searching for a husband."
Victoria stopped scanning the room, surprised at her new acquaintance's bluntness. "I do rather feel like a prime bit of horseflesh that is being trotted to and fro. I didn't think any of the other debutantes would share such an opinion. Finding a husband is such an important task, or so my mother tells me."
"As does mine. And not to say that I wouldn't like to marry and bear an heir; it's just the manner in which we're reviewed. Although there are several gentlemen whom I wouldn't mind being reviewed by at all." Gwendolyn's dimple appeared. "Rockley, for one. Or Gadlock, or Tutpenney—despite his unfortunate name."
"Tutpenney?"
"Believe me, he looks much better than his name sounds." Gwendolyn sighed and added, "And I was greatly looking forward to dancing with the Viscount Quentworth before the tragedy."
"Tragedy?"
"Did you not hear?" Gwendolyn grasped her gloved arm, and Victoria looked down at her, surprised to see that the woman's eyes had widened in worry. "He was found dead on the street near his home. It looked like he'd been attacked by some animal that nearly mauled his head from his neck. But there was a strange marking on his chest that couldn't have been left by an animal."
Gwendolyn had Victoria's full attention now. "What kind of markings? And how would you know of this? Surely your mama or father wouldn't have told you this."
"No, of course you are right. But my brothers aren't terribly prudent about their topics of conversation once they've had a few glasses of brandy, and I'm not so shy about listening in on their talks. That's the only way I get to learn anything interesting." She looked at Victoria from under her sandy eyelashes as if to read her reaction.
"If I had older brothers—or any brothers—I would likely do the same," Victoria told her with relish. "As it is, I must rely on my aunt Eustacia—whom most everyone believes is batty in the head, but who is really quite… enlightening. What kind of markings?"
"Oh, yes… the markings were three Xs on his chest. And I don't believe he was the first victim with this kind of mark—" Gwendolyn likely would have continued, but she was interrupted.
"Victoria," came a shrill voice laced with barely concealed excitement, "may I make an introduction?"
"I'll excuse myself for now, Miss Grantworth."
Gwendolyn told her. "The Duchess of Farnham is heading this way to collect you, and there is Lord Tutpenney, looking ever so lonely. Enjoy the rest of your coming-out."
Victoria turned to see Lady Winifred beaming an expectant smile in her round, dimpled face. "May I present my sister by marriage, Lady Mardemere, her husband, Lord Mardemere… and his cousin, Lord Phillip de Lacy, Marquess of Rockley."
And suddenly, the persistent chill over the back of her neck eased. Victoria felt a sudden burst of warmth spread over her skin, from cheeks to neck to bosom. She held off the urge to look down and see if her skin had colored darker than her gown.
"My pleasure, Miss Grantworth," Lady Mardemere was saying. "What a lovely turnout for your debut! Your mother must be very pleased."
"She is indeed," Victoria replied before turning to curtsy for Viscount Mardemere. "I have hardly had the chance to meet everyone myself." And then she was looking up into the deep-set, hooded eyes of the Marquess of Rockley.
Lady Gwendolyn had not exaggerated. Well-turned did not begin to describe the man who stood before her, raising her gloved hand to his lips. He stood as tall as any man in the room, his rich brown hair gleaming with strands of gold as he tipped his head to press a kiss to the back of her hand. "If you have not yet greeted everyone, may I dare hope there might be a dance left on your card?" His voice matched his looks—clean, calm, smooth—but his eyes carried a different cadence. Something that made her feel very warm. And… he seemed familiar to her in some faint way.
"There is indeed, but it is one of the later ones. After supper, if you intend to stay so long." She looked at him from under her lashes. Victoria did not know where her boldness came from, but it did not appear to dismay the marquess.
"I shall be at a loss to occupy myself until then," he replied with a meaningful look, "but wait I shall."
And then she felt the chill return to the back of her neck, and the weight of someone watching…
Pulling her hand from Rockley's grip, she turned abruptly to look, skimming her gaze over the crowds and pausing at a small cluster of people across the room.
"Victoria?" She dimly heard the surprise in Lady Winifred's voice, echoed by a low rumble from Rockley: "Miss Grantworth? Is everything all right?"
There. He was there… A dozen or so of the peerage stood under the downward curve of the staircase Victoria had descended, half-shadowed in the candlelight there, faces bent toward one another, talking, laughing, gesturing.
And then she saw him. He was watching her even as he bent to talk to the slim blond woman next to him. Tall and dark, he exuded power with the mere inclination of his head as he smiled down at his companion. She beamed up at him, openly delighted with his attention, and smoothed her hand along his forearm—helpless and ignorant of the danger she faced.
Just as ignorant as Victoria would have been only weeks ago.
"Yes, yes," she forced herself to say brightly as she returned her attention to Rockley and then Lady Winifred. "I thought for a moment that I had seen my mother beckoning to me." A limp excuse, but since she had offered the apology, it would be accepted. "Please pardon my distraction, Lord Rockley," she said, smiling up at him, suddenly realizing he was holding her hand again. "It has been my greatest pleasure to meet you. I will look forward to our dance later this evening."
He sent her a melting smile and a short bow. "I will be awaiting the pleasure with great impatience."
At that moment, Victoria felt rather than saw the tall, dark-haired man
and his companion moving from their position under the staircase. The back of her bare neck was cold, and her fingers began to tingle. They were walking toward the doors that led to the terrace, the slim blond woman looking up at him with a soft, glowing smile. If they went outside…
Victoria started across the room, weaving quickly betwixt and among the crush, slipping past people who wanted to stop and talk. "Pardon me," she said when a particularly formidable-looking matron attempted to block her path. "I must catch my… my aunt before she retires for the evening."
Because he towered above the rest of the partygoers, Victoria was able to track his movements as the couple wended toward the French doors. They were most certainly planning to step outside to catch a breath of air.
Victoria slipped out onto the terrace, hoping her mother hadn't noticed the beeline she'd made across the ballroom. It would be rather difficult to explain deserting her own debut to wander on the terrace.
And even worse for that tiny blonde if Victoria did not intervene.
Hurrying on silent feet, she clung to the shadows of the noisy, well-lit house as she scurried across the brick terrace. Listening for the murmur of voices, she paused near a statue of Aphrodite, peering around its cold stone base to see if she could spot the man and his intended victim. She had to hurry; he wouldn't waste any time for fear of being discovered.
Then she remembered, and slipped her hand under the silky, flowing skirts to tug free the wooden stake she'd slipped into her garter. Gripping it the way Eustacia had taught her, Victoria left the protective shadow cast by the statue and hurried along the main path, listening intently.
And then she heard a throaty murmur, followed by a husky laugh. Turning to the right, she moved silently toward them and at last came to the end of the path. The couple stood under the canopy of a branch heavy with lilac blooms. The blond woman was looking up at the man, all innocence and delight; and he smiled down at her. Even though it was not directed at her, Victoria felt the power of his beckoning smile. She tightened her fingers on the stake and moved closer.
She was near enough now that she could see the rise and fall of the woman's bosom, and the sharp curve of her target's high cheekbone. He looked like an arrogant aristocrat, standing tall and dark with his handsome face and square-jawed chin.
What would it feel like to slam the stake into his chest? Would she have to shove it through clothing and bone? How hard would she have to push? Or because the heart was his weakness, was it unprotected and easy to penetrate?
She touched her crucifix, praying that she would have the strength. She would have only one good chance.
She couldn't wait any longer. He was smoothing his hands along the woman's bare arms, and she was smiling up at him, curving toward his body. They looked as though they were about to kiss; but Victoria knew better.
At any moment his face would change… his eyes would turn a burning red, and his canine fangs would grow, ready to sink into the pure white flesh of the woman.
Now. She must move.
Gripping the stake, Victoria launched herself from the shadows, arm high above her shoulder, her eyes focused on the broad chest of the vampire. And just as she moved, as she was ready to thrust that stake home, the woman's mouth opened with a flash of white.
Stunned, Victoria managed to pivot at the very last moment, whirling toward the tiny blonde, whose eyes glowed red and canines shone lethally. It happened so fast that the vampire did not have the chance to recover from her surprise. Using the force of her sudden change in direction, Victoria slammed the stake into the woman's bosom.
It drove into her skin with sickening ease. Victoria felt a minor resistance, a small pop, and then the weapon slid in. It was like shoving a wooden pike into a bowl of sand.
The vampire froze, her mouth open in shock and pain… eyes wide and glowing red. And then, suddenly, with a small poof! the woman disintegrated. She crumpled into dust and was gone.
Just like that.
Victoria stood, panting, staring at the place where the vile creature had been.
She had done it.
She had killed a vampire.
Her knees wobbled. Her breath shook. She looked at her stake to see if there was any blood on it.
It was clean.
"You were going to stake me, weren't you?" came a chill voice.
Victoria looked up and saw that the man was glaring down at her with a decidedly unkind expression. "I…" What did one say to the victim one had just saved from being bitten by a vampire?
"You thought I was a vampire."
Victoria forbore to point out that it was an honest mistake; with his gleaming black hair and sharp-planed face, he looked dangerous and untrustworthy. "One would think you would be a bit more gracious, since I just saved your life," she replied stiffly.
His laugh was sardonic. "That would be a fine day… one that I needed a girl to save my life. From a vampire." He laughed harder.
At that moment, Victoria noticed that he was holding something in his hand. Was that a… stake? "Who are you?" she asked.
"I am Maximilian Pesaro, master vampire executioner."
Chapter Two
In Which a Piercing Commitment Is Made
"It was merely a precaution, my dear," Eustacia said as she lowered her creaking joints and aching muscles into her favorite chair. Favorite, indeed, because of the well-padded seat and generous cushioning on the arms, and because of the small piecrust table next to it where she kept her spectacles, her cross, and a polished white hawthorn stake.
Old habits died hard.
Kritanu was putting Victoria through her paces here in the kalari, the well-curtained ballroom of the Gardella home, which had been outfitted as a practice arena. Some of her dark curls had fallen from their moorings, just as Eustacia's had done when she had trained for her hunting activities… oh, decades ago. Victoria wore skirts during these training sessions, since, due to society's dictates, that would most often be her attire. Eustacia knew that trousers made it much easier to spin and kick, but that would come later when she began to learn the Chinese martial-arts technique of qinggong, in which she would fairly glide through the air, seeming to fly.
Victoria's porcelain skin was flushed dark pink, and her forehead and neck were damp with sweat, but the murderous expression on her face spoke volumes. Eustacia couldn't blame her for being annoyed. Maximilian had chosen the worst possible way to notify her of his presence; but then, that was nothing more than Max's character. Everything was perfectly black or white to Max, whereas most people, including Eustacia, were able to find different shades of gray. It made life more tolerable when one could recognize charcoal or a light mist color.
Victoria had shown excellent promise with Kritanu in her education and training, or kalaripayattu, in the month before her coming-out; but as she'd never faced down a real vampire, Eustacia had felt the need to have plans for contingency purposes at Victoria's debut. It turned out those precautions had been needless; and indeed, perhaps had served to confuse the issue at the ball last night. But Eustacia would have done it again had she the chance.
The pride of a new Venator was a poor price to pay for the safety of her guests.
Kritanu watched with his sharp, dark eyes as Victoria took an offensive stance, then as she flew into action, pivoting, kicking, and whipping her foot into a stack of cushions next to Eustacia's chair. The cushions went flying, and Victoria stopped whirling, hands on hips, right in front of her chair. "Aunt Eustacia, I nearly staked him! Though it would have served him right."
"Now, Victoria, that's over and done with. You'll need to learn to move on, to put your anger and frustration aside if you are going to be a fierce Venator. Focus and strength, quick thinking and bravery… these are all characteristics you possess, but you must refine them. Learn to use them."
As a Venator directly descended from the first Gardella, Victoria had been born with the innate fighting skills she would need to be a formidable vampire hunter. Ag
ility, strength, and speed were already inherent in her; the purpose of Kritanu's training her in various martial-arts forms was to refine and hone those skills… draw them forth and teach her how to use them. And the vis bulla she would receive would provide her with additional protection and strength.
Victoria ducked and spun about to meet a rear attack from Kritanu, mumbling something like, "I'd like to refine him," but of course Eustacia wasn't about to acknowledge that kind of talk.
Instead, she allowed herself the pleasure of watching her lover and companion propel himself into smooth, lethal action as he dodged Victoria's defense and sent her tumbling to the floor. Kritanu, a wiry, muscular Calcuttan nearing seventy-five years old, was a daunting opponent even at his age. He wore an amulet that differed from the vis bullae given to Venators, but which gave him additional strength; but even without that, he was still quick and strong.
Nearly sixty years ago, he'd been sent to Eustacia to train her in kalaripayattu, the Indian martial-arts form favored by Venators who fought the inhumanly strong vampires, and the Chinese qinggong. He'd remained at her side as her companion ever since. The fact that he also shared her bed was an item that they kept discreet; although Eustacia sensed that Max suspected the depth of their relationship. Kritanu's nephew, Briyani, had been Max's assistant for three years, and the trio of men spent much training time together.
Eustacia looked at Victoria, who was pulling herself to her feet. Her hair straggled over her shoulders, but her face was set with determination. "Kritanu, I think she's had enough for the day. Thank you."
He gave a gentle bow, his dark eyes soft and warm. "I will excuse myself, then."
Eustacia turned to her niece. "Set your pride aside for one moment, Victoria, dear. Max was there as a support to you and for safety in the event that something went wrong. You performed well, even after he revealed himself to you. You will make a fine Venator, cam" she said. "And together we will put an end to Lilith the Dark."
The mention of Eustacia's nemesis took the edge from Victoria's eyes, and her annoyance seemed to collapse. "You promised to tell me more about Lilith the Dark after I executed my first vampire. And about my vis bulla."
