With an unplanned grin, she pulled herself away, still shaky. She staggered to her feet, satisfied that he wasn't about to expire on the spot. "One must have one's fantasies," she told him, then gasped at the pain in her leg.
Still holding the sword, heavy in her sore wrist, she used it to help propel herself to the room in which the author was purportedly hiding. The door was open, hanging half from its hinges.
The Imperial vampire, the last one remaining, spun from the bed to meet her. He did not have a sword; it must have been he who dropped the one she had. Looking past him, Victoria got the impression of blood, a vat of blood spilled over the body that lay there, thick and rust-smelling. The scent of evil, of death.
Her leg screaming, her wrist protesting, she lobbed the sword up, but the Imperial lunged toward her and stopped the blade. It smacked into the palm of his hand, and he caught it, flat against his palm, twisted it from her weakened grip, and sent it flying across the room. His face burned with anger, edged with blood at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes blazed as he came at her again.
Victoria felt herself lifted and tossed across the room. She slammed into something hard, and everything went black.
Chapter 7
In Which a Disturbing Question Remains Unanswered
The stench of death roused her.
Victoria opened her eyes, gathering herself to leap back into battle with the Imperial, pushing away Sebastian, who had his hand on her chest and was looking down at her with flat golden eyes.
"He's gone," he told her, removing his hand deliberately. "The vampire."
"Polidori?" She pushed herself up on her elbows, then her palms, and saw that her twisted white nightgown was stained dark red.
"Dead."
"No!" She pushed Sebastian away and dragged herself to her feet, allowing him to help her after she'd gotten her legs straightened. Her right thigh hurt, stung, ached like a stone was crushing it, and she felt a warm trickle rolling down and curling around her ankle. She turned and saw the bed.
There was Polidori, or what remained of him. Victoria had seen carnage like this before, but it did not make it any easier to observe. What had been unruly dark curls were plastered to one side of his face by crusty brown blood, his hips twisted one way and his torso facing the other. What had been a taupe-and-brown-striped nightshirt had been ruined by dark red splashes. His throat gaped like the entrance to a yawning cavern, and three X marks—in memory of the thirty silver pieces Judas received for selling Jesus—had been carved into his chest.
"The Imperial is gone? I don't remember what happened," Victoria said.
"I'm not certain… but he was gone when I came in. You haven't been unconscious for very long, and when I came to, I heard a loud thud. I presume it was you going against the wall. He had to have gone out the window, because I looked in right after I heard the crash."
Then Victoria remembered. "You wanted me to save Polidori—you were fighting the Imperial and you wanted me to leave you. You could have died."
"Quite a surprising turn of events, my bravery, hmm? Well, perhaps it was merely an accident—after all, I had to step in when the Guardian was about to feast on your lovely neck, because the Imperial was right behind him. If I had not engaged him with the sword, that would have been the end of you… and then where would we have been?"
Mockery glinted in his eyes. "Presumptive though it might have been, I figured that even I could hold him off for a few moments. And it was certainly accidental that I distracted the Imperial enough for you to slice his head off. But I must say"—he inclined his head coolly—"it was a relief when you broke the thrall of that Guardian. I was a bit worried there for a moment. You looked as though you were ready to do anything he wanted, with your parted lips and heavy eyes."
Victoria walked toward the bed and drew a sheet up over the dead man. "No one should come in here. We must hide what happened tonight." She looked at Sebastian.
"I'll take care of Polidori. And the room here. We can burn everything."
"My maid can help. And perhaps I can send to London for my aunt. She has a way of… relieving people of their memories in situations like this."
"Her golden disk—yes, I've heard about the spinning amulet that helps… er… adjust what people remember. That would be most helpful. If you send for her now, she could be here by tomorrow afternoon. Surely we can keep everyone here until then. It would not be prudent for tales of what occurred tonight to be spread all over London. We'd have mass hysteria—"
"Not to mention a slew of would-be vampire hunters. A very dangerous vocation for one who is not trained."
He looked at her as though trying to determine whether her comment was directed at him. "Anyone can stake a vampire," he replied coolly.
"If they can get close enough," Victoria said. She looked back at the carnage on the bed. "With all he knew about vampires, you'd think he'd have protected himself somehow. Worn a crucifix, carried a stake… something."
"A crucifix wouldn't have helped him—Polidori was an atheist. So the holy relics, which meant nothing to him, would have provided no protection."
"How can one believe in immortal evil and damnation without also believing in divine goodness? One cannot exist without the other."
Sebastian shrugged. "You and I know better, for we have understood and experienced this aspect of our world for a time. I think Polidori was still coming to accept that there truly is palatable evil in this world: paranormal, immortal, inherent evil."
"Perhaps. But why were they after him, anyway? You were going to let him tell me… but surely you know something."
"All I know is that the Tutela is rising up in Italy, and Polidori knew something about it and its leader, Nedas. Something that the vampires needed to silence, possibly some secret vulnerability or weakness. Or some detail of their plans. But he told me nothing more. He didn't trust me. He allowed me with him because he had no choice, but he did not extend his trust far enough to tell me everything."
Victoria raised her eyebrows. "But he would have trusted me?"
"A Venator. Eustacia Gardella's great-niece. Yes, I believe he would have. But now… we will never know."
"Nedas. You mentioned him earlier tonight. You said he was moving quickly; I presume he's a vampire and not a demon. What did you mean?"
"Yes, of course, a vampire. One of Lilith's sons, in fact. And I meant only that he had found Polidori so quickly, and had sent so many of his men after him—including the demon and vampire you encountered at the Chalice." His lips twitched. "I cannot believe it took you so long to ask me."
She lifted her chin. "I prefer not to be predictable. Besides, I knew you were baiting me, wanting me to ask… I knew you, or Polidori, would tell me in good time. After all, you went through all that trouble to draw me out of my room."
Her eyes narrowed. "Speaking of my room, and the drawing out of it… why weren't you with Polidori when the vampires arrived? I thought you were going to stay with him."
"I was on my way back to him when I found your enamored viscount stumbling through the house, so I took a moment to direct him to his own chamber and saw him safely snoring on his bed before I even left the room. By the time I accomplished that, the vampires had stormed through the hall and made their way to Polidori's chamber. He had taken my advice and slept in a different place; not that it mattered in the end."
"I can see why… you are so inventive when it comes to evading danger."
"The better to keep my delicate hide safe." His words were light, but there was an edge of temper in his eyes. "Now, let me see to this mess, and perhaps your maid can tend that wound on your leg… unless you would prefer to keep it a secret and allow me to care for it."