"Tell me something and I will decide if the information is worth a kiss… or the sight of my vis bulla? Her own voice sounded rusty.
"Lilith knows where the book is. She will be sending her Guardians for it tomorrow night when the moon is high. Either you will stop them, or Lilith will succeed and have it in her possession. Now, will you play this game or will you not?"
Victoria angled back slightly against the arm of the settee, her torso turned toward Sebastian while her feet remained planted on the floor. The pistol was an uncomfortable lump under her hip, but she didn't care—she rather preferred knowing exactly where it was. She took off her gloves. Spreading the edges of her jacket, she pulled it away from the crisp white shirt that hung from the collar nearly to her knees.
Her fingers rested on the cloth at the center of her belly, and she paused to look up at Sebastian. He hadn't moved, but rested quietly, watching her. His chest rose and fell under his own coffee-colored jacket and pale shirt.
Victoria's fingers moved deftly as she pulled the shirt loose from her trousers. She could not look at him as she drew the edges of her shirt up, felt the cool shift of air over her suddenly bare skin.
The holy silver gleamed against the white of her flesh, nestled in the shadowed hollow of her navel. She heard Sebastian draw in his breath slowly, and then free it slowly.
He moved just as carefully, and although Victoria wanted to, she couldn't release the cloth she held open, couldn't pull it down. He reached toward her for the third time that night, and though her stomach shrank and dipped away, his fingers found the silver cross and caressed it… then slid to touch the gentle rounding of her belly, circling in an echo around her navel.
Warm, heavy, intense… his palm covered her skin.
The red haze at the edge of her vision turned dark and she could barely breathe.
Chapter Nine
Miss Grantworth Becomes Frightfully Chilled at a Most Inconvenient Moment
When Victoria opened her eyes, Sebastian was still looking down at his hand on her stomach. Blinking, trying to clear her head, she realized he hadn't even noticed she'd… what? Fainted?
Only a moment had passed—she was sure of it—since everything went dark. A brief second. An anomaly.
But whatever had caused it—whether it was her own sensitivities or some other weakness—she didn't want to chance that it would be repeated. She grasped Sebastian's hand by the wrist and removed it from her lifted shirt. He looked at her then, his eyes the rich color of strong-brewed tea, all remnants of the golden color gone.
"You wanted to look. You said nothing about touching." If she weren't so wary, she would have been jubilant that her voice came out strong and sure, with a hint of the mockery Max often carried in his tones.
He bowed his head in gentle acknowledgment and drew away.
"I will be grateful to you if, now that I have upheld more than my share of our bargain, you will tell me what I need to know."
"Indeed I will, Victoria." He clasped his hands over his chest, relaxing back into his position at the opposite end of the settee, and seemed to gather his thoughts.
That was fine with Victoria, for she wasn't sure she would be able to hear or remember anything he might say over the rush of wind in her ears and the pounding of her heart.
At last he spoke, and when he did it was brief and to the point, as if he, too, felt uncomfortable continuing to be in her presence. "The book is currently in the possession of a man recently returned from travels in India. While there he purchased an old castle, and the book was included in the estate's library. A protection was placed on it centuries ago, and the book cannot be opened until the protection is broken. It also cannot be removed from the possession of its owner by a mortal human."
"But an undead could steal it?"
"Yes, that is the case. You must thus wait for Lilith to send her accomplices to take the book, and that is when you must apprehend them, after they have already stolen it. Else, if you attempt to take the book on your own, you will die as soon as you touch it."
Victoria looked at him, considering. "But I am to believe that once a vampire removes the book from the owner, it is safe for a mortal to touch."
"Indeed."
"And… how is a vampire to steal it from this man if it cannot cross the threshold of a home uninvited?" Skepticism laced her voice.
Sebastian gave a bare nod, as if acknowledging her cynicism. "That is why it will happen two nights from now. The owner of the house will leave on his travels, and the person staying there in his absence will invite the undead into the home."
"This person who will invite the vampires in… is he aware that they are vampires? And the purpose of their visit? Will this person be harmed?"
Sebastian's shoulders moved in a careless shrug. "That is all the information you will need, Victoria. You may act on it or choose not to."
"And if you are lying to me, or mistaken in your information, I will suffer the consequences."
Sebastian stirred, sitting up and leaning toward her, his eyes dark slits. "Victoria, I intend this to be only the first of many times for us to meet. Thus, I assure you, I am not lying. And when it comes to matters such as these, I am never mistaken."
Victoria and Verbena did not arrive home until the sun was peeking over the eastern edge of London's profile. Weary, exhilarated, and unbalanced by the events of the night, Victoria did not speak during the ride home, and instead contemplated her next course of action.
Sebastian had given her the direction of the man who had the Book of Antwartha. He also reiterated that the vampires were to steal it in two nights, which was now the very next night, because the owner would be away. If his information was accurate, Victoria had visited the Silver Chalice none too soon. Perhaps that was why Max had been there last night.
Should she tell Aunt Eustacia and, by telling her, inform Max, so that they could work together to obtain the book? Or should she lie in wait for Lilith's men herself, in the event that the information Sebastian gave her was false?
At Grantworth House the hackney pulled up at the curb by a yawning Barth, and Victoria and Verbena slipped down and onto the walk. Hustling toward the servants' entrance, Victoria followed Verbena through the back way, which had been left open by prearrangement, and managed to slink into her room without being noticed by any of the servants. Lady Melly would sleep until after noon, and to her knowledge, Victoria had come home from a dinner party with the headache.
Verbena helped her undress, and Victoria fell gratefully onto her feather bed. Just as she was drifting off to sleep she remembered: Tonight she was to see Phillip at the Madagascar' ball. Perhaps there would be an opportunity for him to kiss her again.
She smiled into her pillow.
"Why is it," Phillip murmured as he drew Victoria close to his side, "that I must always beat a path through a throng of bucks if I wish to dance with you?"
Her wrist tucked betwixt his arm and his side, she allowed her hip to sway against his as they strolled away. "They were not there to speak only to me," she replied, turning up her face to smile at him. "Gwendolyn Starcasset has quite a following as well."
"That may be so, but most of them were panting over your hand, not hers."
"You are too kind, sir," she replied with a coy smile.
His arm tightened hers against his side. "I am not kind whatsoever," Phillip replied. "In fact, I have not one whit of kindness toward those fops."