She felt him watching her as she walked away.
The dried sludge from the canal made Victoria’s skin itch, and had saturated her hair, which had fallen in smelly, dripping strands about her shoulders. The special frock with the split skirt would have to be burned, and her remaining slipper was so stained that it no longer showed a hint of pink.
By the time Verbena had finished bathing her mistress and washing the stench from her thick mass of hair, it was past midnight. She toweled the hip-length curls as dry as possible, then coiled them into a loose, sagging knot at the back of her neck so that it would be able to dry without tangling too much. Victoria dressed, not in a night rail, but in the loose trousers and tunic she wore when training, along with soft slipperlike shoes. She had a suspicion that Sebastian might come to the house with Kritanu after they brought the horses back, and she thought it might be best if she weren’t in her bedchamber if and when they did.
After dismissing her yawning maid for the night, Victoria went down to return the kadhara knife to the cabinet in the kalari training room. She was surprised to find it lit by a lamp that cast a golden glow over the area, and thought she might find Wayren within. But it was Max.
He was standing at one of the cupboards, apparently also returning a weapon to its rightful place. At first he didn’t hear her enter, and she noticed that he was garbed in clean clothes similar to her own-trousers and a tunic in undyed linen, bare of foot, his dark hair loose and making damp marks on the back of his shirt.
Victoria felt short of breath, and realized that her stomach was coiling and loosening with nauseating speed. She stepped into the room, letting the door close silently behind her.
Max turned. She saw his attention flicker past her. “Where is Vioget? And Wayren?”
“So you cannot deign to speak to me if no one else is present?” Victoria countered, stepping into the room. For some reason, she felt as though she was in control… despite the fact that his face still bore that flat, empty expression.
But the rest of him… Her mouth went dry and, suddenly, her heart was thumping so hard she was certain it was audible. The sleeves of his hip-length tunic were rolled halfway up his arms, showing an expanse of swarthy skin and muscle that would never be revealed in polite dress. And the loose neck of the shirt made a vee below the hollow of his throat, exposing the same dark hair that grew on his legs and scattered over the tops of his long, elegant feet. He was still wearing the leather thong and silver cross she’d noticed around his ankle before, but no other adornment. Except, perhaps, a vis bulla-her vis bulla-beneath the shirt. Her lungs tightened.
“I was just leaving.” He started toward the door, and she remained in place. He’d have to brush past her to go.
“I want to talk to you.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” Anger darkened his eyes and for a moment she was almost afraid of his expression. It was so cold… she’d never seen such blatant loathing.
“That’s fine, for you need say nothing. I want-”
He exploded then. “I don’t give a bloody damn what you want, Victoria. I want nothing to do with you. Stay away from me until I leave. Which won’t be soon enough.” Max stalked toward the door, passing her in a swish that stirred the air like a miniature cyclone.
But Victoria was angry now as well. She lashed out and grabbed a muscled arm, yanking him back before he could touch the door handle.
He whipped from her grip, and now they were face-to-face. His eyes blazed and his mouth compressed with fury. “Leave it, Victoria. You’ve done enough.”
She closed her fingers around his wrist. She was strong enough to hold him, and he knew it. “Max, let me explain-”
“There is no explanation for what you did.” He was facing her now, and he grabbed her shoulders so hard she knew his fingertips would leave little black bruises above her collarbones. “You had no right to imprison me. No bloody right.” He was nearly shaking her, and she raised her arms between them to break his hold, shoving his hands away.
“I was afraid for you-” She grabbed at him once more as he turned, and this time when he whirled, she saw that he was no longer holding back. His face was black with fury, and his teeth were bared in a nasty smile.
“Afraid. For me.” He slashed down and broke her hold on his wrist, sending a numbing shock along her arm. “Poor helpless Max. You had to lock me in a goddamn room while you and Vioget and Kritanu went out to fight vampires? Damn you, Victoria. I’ll never forgive you for that.”
She shoved at him, hard enough to send him stumbling backward. “Listen to me, you bloody lout.”
He caught himself and lunged back up at her. “You want to fight, do you?”
“You know I can best you, Max. Then you’ll have to listen to me, instead of running away from it-as you always do.”
“Try it.” His smile returned, hard and unfriendly. His eyes glinted with challenge.
She kicked out suddenly, and he blocked her thrust with an angle of his powerful thigh, then responded with a shove that knocked her back two steps. Furious that he’d taken her by surprise, she twisted around and grabbed his arm, slipping it over her as she neatly flipped him to the thick mat on the ground. He yanked her leg, pulling her off balance so that she was forced into a somersault that loosened her knot of hair.
Then he was up, breathing easily, as though he’d just stood from a chair, dark hair loose, brushing his shoulders and falling in his eyes. He crouched, ready for her, and she matched his stance as they circled in the room. It wouldn’t be a battle of pure strength, but one of timing and the unexpected. In that, they were evenly matched.
“I didn’t want anything to happen to you, you blasted fool,” she said, lunging.
He sidestepped and kicked around from behind to trip her. She caught herself and staggered backward, pulling him with her. Max tumbled and rolled neatly to his feet, turning once again to face her. “You bloody castrated me, Victoria. You did me no favors.”
“Lilith wants you.”
“And she wants you, damn you. Even more than she wants me.”
“No-”
“But I didn’t drug you. And lock you up. For two days.” He blocked her blow with his arm, using the momentum to twist her around.
Victoria spun back to face him. “No, you simply paid Sebastian to kidnap me last fall.”
The fact that Max had asked Sebastian to abduct Victoria to keep her from questioning his seeming loyalty to the Tutela, and thus ruining his plans to get close to Nedas and his demonic obelisk, had continued to be a bone of contention between them. That had also been the first time she and Sebastian became lovers, in a carriage, of course-a fact about which Max never hesitated to remind her.
She balled up her hands into fists that, small though they might appear, held inhuman strength. “To keep me safe,” she said, punctuating her words with spars that slapped violently against his raised palms as he blocked her, “as you claimed.” She whirled around suddenly with a solid kick toward his abdomen, which connected with his side as he lunged out of the way. “How dare you claim injury when you did nothing less to me.”
Max laughed coldly, ducking her blows and responding with one of his own that spun the air by her ear. “You talk as though it was some great tragedy,” he said, backing up into a crouch again, “that you ended up in a carriage with him. The way I heard it,” he said, taking a swipe at her, “it was no hardship for you after all.”
She kicked out, clipping the edge of his jaw. She heard his teeth snap shut and she tossed him a tight grin. “At least I didn’t act the coward and pay someone else to do my dirty work.” She leaped at him; he blocked her lunge and caught her by the arm. Ducking under her, he flipped her over as she’d done to him moments before.