Verbena nearly slammed the door after her in her enthusiasm to return to her newfound friends, and Victoria was suddenly quite alone with Sebastian Vioget.
He reached toward her, and it was all she could do to keep from flinching; then she felt the top of her head cool and lighten as he swept her hat away.
"I have been wanting to do that since I first saw you," he told her, dropping it carelessly. "Now, if only…" He reached behind her, and this time she moved, just as his fingers touched one of the pins at the back of her head. She wasn't quick enough, for as she shifted the pin stayed in his grasp and pulled from her hair.
Sebastian tsked. "I am one of those who thinks it a shame that women must hide the beauty of their hair."
Victoria felt the pistol in her pocket and pulled it out. She didn't aim it at him, just pulled it out so that he could see it. "That may be well and good, but I am no longer interested in your commendations regarding my clothing and coiffure. If you cannot help me with my quest, I will excuse myself from your presence and find someone who can."
Sebastian laughed and dropped the hairpin. Victoria felt the heavy mass of hair slip at the back of her head, and she had to resist the need to touch it, to push it back into place. "You are worthy of your legacy, my dear. Now, before we continue, I should like to know your real name."
She saw no harm in telling him. "Victoria. And I should like to know what makes you think I am a Venator."
"I know quite a lot about everything. Including the fact that you… Ah, yes, indeed, it is true." He was reaching toward her again, and before she could stop him he'd pulled back the high, starched collar of her man's shirt. His hand was not gloved, and it brushed warm against her bare neck.
Victoria took a measured step back. She was not going to react the way her body wanted to: quickly, jerkily, in panic. She would not let him know how he affected her with his insouciant way of touching her.
She was a Venator, and she was stronger than he. Whoever he was.
"Are you going to help me, or shall I just leave?"
"And risk your cohort out there recognizing you? Without your hat, you look like a delicate young woman wearing her brother's clothing. Ridiculous, and an affront to your beauty. At least its brim hid some of that flawless skin and the line of your jaw." He offered her his arm, turning toward the hall that stretched before them. "I'm sure you aren't willing to take that chance. Why, I wonder, did you not want him to see you?"
Victoria did not take his arm, but she turned to walk along with him. The passage was wide enough that they could stroll shoulder-to-shoulder without brushing against each other, and for that she was grateful. As she walked, the unstable mass of her hair bobbed with the rhythm of each step. "Do you know him?" She purposely did not say his name.
"Maximilian? Of course I do. He comes in here occasionally, and I have told him he may patronize the place as long as he does not cause a disturbance or hunt my clientele. Just as I have warned my other clients not to hunt their prey in my establishment. See? We all get along famously."
They walked along the hallway, Victoria holding her cane-stake in one hand and the pistol in the other. She felt confident that she was prepared for whatever threat might come her way.
"In here, my dear," he said, stopping in front of a door near the end of the hall. There was another option across from this entrance. Both doors appeared to be identical.
Victoria tightened her fingers on the stake as she stepped over the threshold into a well-furnished room that appeared to be an office. Bookshelves lined one wall; on another was a desk. To one side was a settee and two chairs clustered around a low table, near a fireplace. The wooden floor was covered with a rug. The only disconcerting thing about the chamber was the fact that there were no windows—and only one exit.
"I see that my study meets with your approval," Sebastian said. "Please, have a seat."
"You brought me here for what purpose? Surely the Book of Antwartha isn't sitting on the shelf there."
"No, of course not. But it truly was important that we are not overheard in our conversation. Because"—he held up his hand to stop her furious response—"I can tell you exactly where the Book of Antwartha is. And how to get it."
Victoria closed her mouth and sat down. She rested her cane next to her and slid the pistol beside her on the cushion.
"Very good." He smiled and chose a seat next to her on the settee. "Now, then, if I give you this information, what will you give to me in return?"
Prickles erupted over her skin. "What would be of value to you?"
"Two things. Two very simple things, Victoria Gardella. Ah, yes, I know exactly who you are." Sebastian smiled and he looked at her with the gold-orange eyes of a tiger. "The first requirement is… you cannot tell anyone where and how you obtained the information. You cannot tell your cohort Maximilian; you cannot tell your aunt. If you do, I will know. And it will go very badly for you. You see, no one else at the inn knows who you are. No one would know we have met. No one would know how you came upon this information unless you divulged it."
Victoria nodded. "I promise."
"And I should trust you?"
"The same way I trusted you when you told me my maid would be safe. And the same way I've trusted you, bringing me back here."
He chuckled again, that knowing laugh. "Ah, yes, as a Venator you are in such jeopardy from me." His words were mocking, yet there was an edge to them that told Victoria they weren't as careless as they sounded. "But you were right to trust me regarding the safety of your maid. She is truly in no danger. As I told you, I do not allow preying on the unwilling in my establishment."
"What is the other requirement?" The prickles on her arms rose in anticipation of his response.
"I wish to see your vis bulla."
Victoria's throat went dry. Not what she had expected. But much, much worse.
"Would not a kiss suffice?" she asked boldly, a red haze clouding the edges of her vision. After all, she'd already kissed one man today. She could not imagine… opening her man's shirt and showing this stranger her middle.
"Are you offering me an additional favor? If so, I will gladly take it. In addition to my original request, of course."
"Not in addition, but instead."
"It is a tempting thought, as I have never kissed a Venator… but no. I wish to see your vis bulla" The expression on his face told her he hadn't even considered making the change. "And then I will tell you all you need to know."
"How do I know what you tell me will be the truth?"
"You will have to trust me."
It was Victoria's turn to laugh. "And why should I trust you for something of that nature? And why should you help me?"
"As for helping you… I of course have my reasons, but sharing them with you is not part of the bargain. It is of no matter to you why I should help a Venator. And… if the information is wrong—which it is not, I assure you—what will you have lost by merely showing me your vis bulla?" His voice dropped to a disturbing low at the end, a deep almost-whisper.
"Or…" His voice was stronger now, steadier. "I can simply give Maximilian the information. I am sure he would be appreciative."
"He wouldn't show you his vis bulla," Victoria responded, suddenly realizing that Max had one just like hers, dangling from his navel.
"I don't wish to see his."
Victoria felt the harsh thumping in her chest. It was just modesty that prevented her from showing him. Just modesty. And if she did, she could return to Aunt Eustacia and Max with valuable information… or even the book itself.
Sebastian was watching her from a relaxed position in the corner of the settee, but she felt the tension as he waited for her response. And suddenly, as if giving up under his intense contemplation, gravity won out over Verbena's work, and her hair slid down from the back of her head into a loose mass around her shoulders. He smiled in satisfaction. "Just as I had envisioned it."