"And I would refuse that burden of passing judgment. All vampires are not wholly evil, Victoria, as I well know. If they were the arbitrarily bloodthirsty cretins you believe them to be, I would not be here right now. My grandfather would have turned me or mauled me long ago."
"But once a mortal is turned to a vampire, he ceases to be the person we once knew. He becomes a monster, a demon, driven only by his need. I have never met a vampire who hasn't been set on taking from another. I've seen the carnage they leave, the way they mangle and tear and destroy men and women. They are damned for a reason, Sebastian, damned because they take promiscuously, and without need, because they must drain the life of others in order to exist. Knowing that I could prevent it from happening, that I am called to protect mortals, I could never abstain from doing so. I cannot see how you can forgive that evil, even in your own grandfather."
"And that," he said lightly, standing, moving away from her both physically and emotionally, "is what about you attracts me so, to my great regret. Your conviction, your bravery, your sacrifice. Your strength. How, even when presented with an argument, you are not easily swayed. Let me ask you something, Victoria. If my grandfather, Beauregard, walked in this room, and I gave you a stake, would you kill him here in front of me?"
She looked at him, her heart thumping along harshly, audible in the sudden silence. Sebastian was not an evil person; she knew that. He might be an opportunist, he might walk a tightrope and play two sides, but she could not believe he wished evil on anyone. Even her.
Especially her.
"Knowing that with one plunge of the stake, you would send him—or any being—to an eternity of Hell?" Sebastian stood over her.
Knowing what she knew, would she? Would she pass that judgment on the man—no, the immortal, the vampire—whom Sebastian knew and loved?
How could he love a vampire?
"I don't know." Her voice was a whisper; it was the best she could do. "If he… I don't know, Sebastian."
His mouth caught at one side. "It appears you might be able to see at least some shade of gray, unlike your dear friend Max, who sees only black and white." He turned and walked across the room, twitched the curtains to look out.
The movement allowed a bit of light into the room; it was lighter than it had been when she last remembered being in the carriage. She must have been here overnight.
That meant that tonight at midnight would begin the Day of the Dead. If she were going to have any chance of stopping Nedas, of attempting to kill him, she had to get away from Sebastian and the vampires that lurked somewhere nearby. Her neck was still chilled.
Victoria pulled on her arms, fixed above her head, elbows bent. "How long are you going to keep me like this?" she asked.
He turned, half-shadowed by the sunlight streaming in from the window, reminding her that no one was completely shadowed or lit; no one was wholly good or wholly evil. Even, if he were to be believed, vampires. "Since I rather relish seeing you in such a helpless position, I'm not motivated to make any changes to the current arrangement." His smile was back, but it showed the signs of strain.
She tugged at her wrists again. "My arms are hurting."
"I'm certain I can find a way to take your mind off the pain."
"You might find it more enjoyable if I were able to participate."
One of his brows lifted. "Your idea of participating would probably not be what I had in mind. I think I'll leave you just the way you are."
"Where are the vampires? I know they are here. Friends of your grandfather's, I presume?"
"Just as a bit of added insurance," he said. "Outside the door there. You should be flattered that I felt the need to have additional assistance."
He walked toward her and stood, looking down. "When this is all over—tomorrow, perhaps—I'll release you and then you can start to pick up the pieces. For now, though, I bid you au revoir."
He bent, gave her a gentle kiss next to the corner of her lips, where he was far from her angry teeth, and left the room.
As soon as he was gone, Victoria started to look about for an opportunity to escape; but no sooner had the door closed behind Sebastian than it opened again and another man came in. A vampire.
His eyes glowed red and his fangs were out, and for one horrible moment she thought he meant to attack her. Surely Sebastian wouldn't allow it. But Sebastian was gone.
As the vampire walked over and stood next to her, her vision swirled and her stomach fluttered.
"Quite a shame that we must leave you untouched. I've never had a Venator before." The implication was clear, and she felt her panic begin to subside.
But then the vampire traced a cold finger over her neck, using his sharp nail, and she felt the prick of its point, surely deep enough to draw blood. He bent toward her and she stiffened, pulling at the ropes beyond her head, feeling them jolt something above her, but he did not bite. Instead he dragged his wide, cold tongue over the place he'd cut. Victoria turned her head away, her stomach pitching, her back arching, hoping that whatever protections Sebastian had put in place for her would be enough once the vampire had smelled and tasted her blood.
Her veins surged, her blood pulsing through them as though shooting to the place on her neck where he'd scratched her. Victoria's breathing became trapped, slow, sluggish. The world funneled into a whirl of sensation: the cold moisture of his tongue, long and slow on her flesh; the scrape of his teeth; the sharp-nailed fingers that now dug into her scalp, beneath her heavy hair; the beat of her heart racing, pounding through her limbs as she struggled to free them.
When he pulled back he smiled, and his eyes were glowing deep bloodred. Hunger glistened there, and she smelled blood on his breath. "That was lovely," he murmured, tracing a long nail gently down her neck and to her breast. "I am so very tempted." His nail paused, pressing into the tender skin that swelled over her bodice.
The mad thumping of her heart pounded so harshly that her breast jolted in rhythm as she scarcely dared to breathe.
The vampire's eyes glowed red, then redder, then softer again as he seemed to contemplate his options.
But at last he pulled away. "It is fortunate for you, Venator, that I value my own existence more than what delights you offer," he said, looking down at her. "Perhaps later, when Vioget tires of you… but for now… I must regretfully decline." He said this last over his shoulder as he walked away; and she relaxed, watching as he went back out the door.
If it hadn't been for Sebastian—and possibly his grandfather's influence—she would have been in trouble. The vampire's actions put quite a damper on Sebastian's arguments: the vampire was clearly ready to take from a helpless woman, and only fear for his own safety stopped him.
But now… now she must attend to finding a way out.
When she'd pulled hard on the bonds of her wrists, she'd felt something move above her. Giving her attention more closely to her environment, she recognized that she was bound to a bed and that the headboard had become loosened by her struggles. Perhaps she could break it free.
She didn't know if the noise would bring the vampire guards in, but she had to attempt it. Trying to keep the banging to a minimum, she pulled on her wrists, felt the ropes scrape over her skin, and jerked around, trying to see if she could get the top of the bed loose. She wasn't even certain what it was made of; it sounded like metal of some sort.
Victoria struggled, then began to tug on her feet in the same way, causing low, deep creaking sounds to emanate from below—hopefully low enough that it wouldn't alarm the vampires. If she could loosen those ropes, she could bring herself closer to the headboard and perhaps be able to use her hands instead of just pulling on her bounds.