The Bleeding Dusk

The vampire was there, probably meant to be guarding the hallway in which she stood, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. But when Max came into view she straightened, her eyes gleaming red with interest.



He remained relaxed. He’d been bitten both before and after becoming a Venator…and he’d slain undead both before and after as well. Still, it nagged at him that he’d had to bring Briyani and Michalas as support. Doing so was smart and logical—and by God if he hadn’t told Victoria more than once that their duty was to do what was right, not what they wanted.



So, when he faced the vampire, he let her come toward him, let her grab at his shoulders, let her eyes attempt to enthrall him. She wasn’t very powerful, which was not surprising, since Regalado’s followers were young and inexperienced. Her breath was clean—she’d not fed recently—which made it easier for him to entice her to bite his neck by tipping his head and baring it suggestively, pretending to be completely under her power.



Perhaps the vampire guards were supposed to bring any potential victims to Akvan or Regalado, but since she hadn’t fed, and since he’d offered his flesh to her so openly, the female undead didn’t hesitate.



Her fangs ripped into his neck with none of the easy, seductive slide of Lilith’s, and Max jerked a little in surprise. Or perhaps it was because he was weaker now. Weak and lost. He was weak, and the world was dimming.



He fumbled for his stake, feeling the familiar weight in his hand, and pulled it out from under his coat as the blood pulsed from him. She sucked roughly, greedily, and if he didn’t act soon he’d lose consciousness or, worse, need to be saved by the others.



It wasn’t the most powerful thrust, nor the smoothest, but Max felt the echo of satisfaction slam through him as he staked the vampire, driving the ash pike into her back.



The world was spinning, and his neck ached and dripped, but he was still on his feet when he blinked back the darkness and found Briyani there, stake in hand, as if he’d just come around the corner. Michalas was right behind, his stake at the ready as well.



Max bristled at the concern in their faces, and he turned to start off somewhere—in any direction, he didn’t bloody care—but Briyani stopped him with a hand on his arm.



“Wait.”



The gentleness in his voice and touch caused Max to tighten his jaw in annoyance, but Briyani was right.



The flush of salted holy water over the open wounds was a painful but necessary shock, and Max was glad his friend had acted. It would slow the bleeding and, once the initial pain had eased, would help to stop the wound’s incessant throbbing.



“Now,” Max said, ignoring the lingering pain, “you must go back and wait for me. It will do me no good if you are found, so hide as we discussed, and I will return. Or I won’t.”



“I will attend you,” said Briyani, his face determined. “You cannot go alone.”



“I can and I will. That was our agreement.” Max fixed his sharpest glare on him, willing him to understand.



Briyani’s brilliant white teeth flashed in a humorless smile. “You agreed; I did not. Michalas and I have discussed it, and he will wait. I will come with you. Either with you or behind you—but you can be certain I will be there.”



“I am no child in leading strings.”



“And I am no dog to be ordered about.”



As Max glowered at him, once again damning Lilith for driving him to this, and cursing Wayren for giving him back his bloody memories but nothing else, Michalas stepped forward. “They’re coming. Now is not the time for arguments. I will be in the chamber as planned, and if you do not return in two hours I will search for you.” He fixed bright blue eyes on Max and said, “I fully intend to walk out of here alive, so you’d best return, Pesaro.”



He pointed to the left, and then took off on silent feet in the opposite direction.



With a murderous glance at Briyani, Max stalked off down the hall Michalas had indicated. His fingers closed tightly into his palms, the stake still clutched in one hand, and he felt the tension all the way up his arms.



And then he forced himself to relax. There was a time when he would have easily accepted Briyani’s presence, and now was an instance when he might need it more than ever. As much as it made him furious to admit that he was weak, the truth was that he was.



He was no longer the man he’d been.



Yet, when they came face-to-face with the cluster of four vampires, Max greeted them with great boldness and confidence, Briyani at his side.



“I am Maximilian Pesaro,” he announced, looking at the undead with all the haughtiness of the Venator he no longer was. “Take me to Akvan.”



Twenty



Wherein Our Heroine Finds Herself in Yet Another Dark Tunnel



Victoria moved silently down the stairs, staying well out of Sebastian’s sight as he descended into the cool cellar beneath a slender three-story house. The plaster-walled building that overlooked a small courtyard was unexpectedly familiar to her, for it was the same place he’d imprisoned her last autumn when he and Max tried to keep her away from Nedas, the vampire who’d planned to activate Akvan’s Obelisk. Fortunately Sebastian’s attempt had failed, and she’d freed herself by climbing out a window, and had thus been able to witness not only the destruction of the obelisk, but also to slay Nedas.



Perhaps he’d been staying here all along, all these months, and Victoria could have contacted Sebastian if she’d been able to find this building again…but it was a moot point now.She was here, and vengeance was on her mind. Blood pounded in her temples and reverberated in her chest as she moved along, flush with the wall, gun and stake within easy reach. The back of her neck had been chilled for quite some time, and she guessed there were a good number of undead nearby, doubtless fawning at the feet of Beauregard.



The passageway was cold and dark and very narrow. It occurred to her as she stayed far behind Sebastian that she had spent an inordinate amount of time sneaking, running, or being chased through deep, dank tunnels since she’d become a Venator. That was one of the hazards of hunting the undead, but it was becoming rather predictable. Stalking a vampire? Follow him underground. Searching for the undead? Look in a dark, damp cave. Seeking a potentially evil artifact? Follow a tunnel to find it.



These absurd thoughts served to distract Victoria and tame her urge to barrel ahead and confront Sebastian. If she showed herself, or was discovered too early, it would make things much more difficult. When outnumbered, as she surely was, Victoria preferred to have the element of surprise on her side.



It also occurred to her as she paused at a corner that, for as powerful a vampire as Beauregard was, his accommodations were rather primitive. She discovered close, dark corridors, rough walls, scattered stones underfoot, and more than one swath of clinging cobwebs that brushed her face and hair.



A rat scuttled near her foot; no, there were two of them; but Victoria didn’t react even when she felt the brush of a small furry body against the hem of her skirt. Rats coexisted with Beauregard? She couldn’t imagine Lilith—or even Regalado—putting up with such an affront.



But when she finally heard voices ahead and slunk her way along the dirty wall to peer around the last corner, Victoria had to revise her private thoughts. The wall that she came upon ended in a neat doorway that appeared to be covered by some kind of tapestry; it wafted back into place, indicating that Sebastian had just slipped through there. So she sneaked forward and pushed away just a corner of the cloth in order to peer in.



Beauregard’s lair, instead of being simple and inelegant, was as nicely apportioned as Lady Winnie’s parlor—albeit a bit less lacy. Rugs covered the floor. Candles and lamps shimmered from sconces and tables and shoulder-height candelabra. The ceiling was surprisingly high, nearly as tall as men of Max’s height. The furnishings included a harpsichord, and were of fine dark wood and plump brocaded upholstery. A large wooden door on the opposite side of the chamber told Victoria that Sebastian had led her to the hidden rear entrance to the room. Based on the size and strength of the other door—not to mention the frigidness on the back of her neck—she presumed Beauregard had friends located on the other side of that main entrance.



Inside the room two fair heads, one the color of wheat, the other more of a lion’s-mane shade, but both with the same thick curls, were bent over a table examining what looked like a single piece of paper.



Victoria chose that moment to step fully into the room. “It appears that I have yet another grievance to air with you, Beauregard.”



To her immense satisfaction, both of their heads snapped up in surprise. Sebastian’s face wore a frozen, chagrined look, rather like the one he’d had when she’d found him in the Consilium. But Beauregard…after the initial shock evaporated, his was replaced by a sly, pleased expression that made the hair on Victoria’s scalp lift.



“Welcome, my dear, welcome to my humble abode.” Beauregard made a sweeping gesture, inviting her in.



Victoria moved past the tapestry door, taking care to keep her back to the wall so there wouldn’t be any nasty surprises creeping up behind her. She remained calm and focused, reining in the fury that vibrated through her muscles and veins. One step at a time.



“How did you get here?”



Sebastian’s voice drew Victoria’s attention to him. He was all too appealing in the flattering candlelight, with a boyish curl falling on his forehead and that guilty expression on his face. But before she could speak, Beauregard interrupted. “I presume she found her way here the same way in which her paramour—Zander, Zavier, what was his name?—did. Surely he gave her the direction.” He smiled, now looking directly at her. His eyes were still a normal shade of blue, and his fangs were out of sight, but Victoria was properly wary. “Or perhaps you recalled your stay here last autumn, before all of that unpleasantness occurred.”



“Unpleasantness?” Victoria said, refusing to look at Sebastian. She couldn’t afford to be distracted. “I rather thought you welcomed the destruction of Nedas and the thwarting of his plan to activate Akvan’s Obelisk. After all, it put you in a much greater position of power.”