The Rest Falls Away (37 page)

“How?”

Lilith rose for the first time, and stepped down one step. Her slender hands clasped in earnest at her middle, the long, fitted gown she wore trailed down the steps after her. “It is in the book.”

“Why should I believe you?” Victoria's mind worked frantically. She could save Phillip! It was worth it to save a life, to give Lilith the book.

“Because you have no choice. And why would I lie? I have the advantage. I don't need to do anything for you.”

“So why would you?”

That was when Lilith stepped right up to her. Victoria kept her eyes focused over the vampire queen's shoulder, but the woman's proximity sent her pulse speeding, snagged her breath and made it her own. She could feel Phillip next to her, struggling to control himself. “Because, my dear, I can give you something else that will also benefit me.”

She smelled like roses. Fresh, dewy, beautiful roses. This icon of evil, of malevolence, smelled like a summer flower. The epitome of feminity. She smelled like Victoria's mother.

Victoria wanted to gag. She replied instead, “I beg you, don't keep me in suspense.”

“I can release you from your vow. I can make you a person, not a Venator. I can set you free. You and your husband.”

Her heart hammered. Her hands slickened. Victoria closed her eyes; Lilith continued to speak. “Your aunt didn't tell you there was a way out, did she?”

Victoria shook her head.

“There is always a way out—well, nearly always.” Lilith laughed. The sound filled Victoria's ears, echoed inside her brain. “Some of us are bound forever…but not you, Victoria. Not your marquess. You can be free, have a normal life. Is that not what you wish?”

“Ah, yes, I'll give up my powers so you can kill me. That's quite a deal.” It was a struggle to form the words, but they sounded cool—at least to Victoria's ears.

She waited to be convinced…she waited to hear Lilith's line of reasoning, praying it would give her the freedom to make the choice.

“Oh, no, didn't I mention? Along with the release from your vow, there is also an incantation that provides you and your lover with infinite protection from the undead. You will be free to live as you wish…have a child, even…and be protected from all vampires. If you give me the book.”

Victoria drew in a deep breath. Everything she wanted. For the price of an old book.

A book that had spells in it which could help Lilith gain power. She would be able to raise demons. She would be able to mask herself from Venators.

Victoria swallowed. The book hung heavy in the bag at her side, along with her conscience. Her heart was numb.

Phillip stood next to her, panting. Victoria looked at him, and he faced her as if drawn by some invisible thread. The red had faded from his eyes, and his fangs retracted. He looked like the man she loved. The one she'd stood up at the altar with, promised her love and fidelity to.

The one she'd pledged to be bound to for the rest of their lives.

You should have confessed this before we were married, Victoria. It is unforgivable that you did not.

His last words to her hung in her memory, harsh and brutally true.

She had wronged him beyond anything he could have imagined, damning him to hell once his immortal life was ended by someone like her…or to hell on earth as an evil creature living off the blood of helpless victims.

She loved him, and she'd brought him to this.

She could save him…and she could also get what she wanted: freedom from this life. A clear conscience. A mind ignorant of these evils. The same blissful ignorance her mother now had.

And protection from them.

Isolation from the knowledge and reality of the undead.

Victoria's heart beat faster. Her hands moved, digging into the satchel. The leather cover of the book felt rough, the binding split. The pages crackled when she moved them.

“Give me the book.” Lilith stood close, but she didn't dare touch it until Victoria gave it to her. Freely.

Victoria could feel her anxiety, her lust for the set of bound pages.

What was she trading? Her life, Phillip's life…fora book.

A book that contained…perhaps…great powers. And perhaps not.

“Stand back,” Victoria said to Lilith. Her decision was made. “I will make the trade.”

+ 27 +

A Most Fortuitous Length of Rope

When Lilith stepped away
from him, focusing all of her power and attention on Victoria, Max was finally able to reset the rhythm of his own breath. His neck throbbed and burned, but he knew from experience that it could have been worse.

Much worse.

Warm blood trickled over his skin. He pushed himself upright with trembling arms, forced himself to his feet, and shot a hard look at the Guardian who dared to move toward him. No one would risk touching the property of Lilith, which branded him safe—in a manner of speaking.

Rockley had been turned undead. Max had suspected, but wasn't certain until now, when he saw the way Rockley gazed with unleashed lust on his wife. At Lilith's word, he'd feed on Victoria until she died—or worse. But not until he was given leave by his mistress. Not only had she allowed him to feed from herself, but Lilith was holding him off to ensure his complete devotion.

Touching his
vis bulla,
Max closed his eyes, inhaled the power, and let Lilith's evil seep from his pores. They had to find a way to get out of this place with the book. There was no hope for Rockley.

Then he heard Victoria. “Stand back. I will make the trade.”

What?

Give Lilith the book? Undo all they had worked for?

No!

He moved, started down the steps of the dais…and was blocked by the swords of two Imperials.

Victoria had seen and she looked at him. Hard. Then her eyes swept away to his left, quickly up and then down. Back to the satchel, which hung across the front of her body. She was feeling through the bag with one hand. The other fell alongside the loose white trousers she wore.

She'd dressed for battle, so to speak. Her hair was pulled back, severe and black, twisted into a knot at the base of her neck, leaving her eyes wide and dark in a face the color of health…not death. Despite Lilith's vibrant hair, Victoria was the one who glowed, standing next to her.

Max took a deep breath. Focused. To his left was the large, shallow dish of fire, sitting in its cradle of metal arms. Next to it was a pile of wood…much too thick to be used as stakes. But the fire itself…

“Stand away,” Victoria said to Lilith, and suddenly Max saw why. She had a pistol in her hand.

A pistol.
That
was helpful.

Lilith stepped back, but did not appear surprised. “You took that from your husband. There's no bullet in there that can harm me. You are the only one in danger from such a weapon.” Then she turned to look at Max, still held captive behind two crossed swords. “Or he.” Her brows lifted and she sent him a scorching smile. “Perhaps you wish to eliminate any witnesses to your…change of heart.”

Victoria raised the pistol and pointed it at Max. It had been a while since he'd been on the wrong side of a barrel, and he hadn't missed the predicament one whit. The Imperials even shifted their swords, as if to give her a better shot. “I would not wish my aunt to know I'd forsaken my vow. Instead, Max and Phillip and I will simply disappear.”

“I am not finished with him yet,” Lilith replied.

“Nor am I.” Victoria looked at Max again and, giving a spare nod, pointed the pistol straight above her head and pulled the trigger. The black-painted dome shattered, and shards of glass rained down on the center of the floor…allowing noon sunlight to pour through the opening in the ceiling.

Lilith screamed and fell away, rolling out of the generous ring of light in the center of the floor. Phillip, who was standing on the edge of the sunlight-infused area, dodged from the danger zone.

Max had moved just as Victoria nodded, shoving the vessel of fire onto the Imperials. One of them caught flames at the edge of his trousers, and when he dropped his sword Max leaped for it.

Max vaulted to his feet, slicing the head from the burning Imperial. He whipped around and took two more heads from the unprepared vampires who stood gawking along the walls, then spun toward Victoria.

Victoria hesitated, looking at her husband, but then Max was storming toward her. He leaped, landing next to her in the middle of the room. Sunlight bathed them both standing in the circle of safety. The fire he'd tipped over caught at the upholstery on Lilith's chair, and began to tear through the carpet. Smoke clouded the fringes of the room, rising to the open air above.

Most of the vampires had advanced, collecting around them, blocking them into the round yellow area that spanned perhaps eight feet. Lilith stood a short distance away, screaming orders and rubbing her hands over her body as if to brush away the burns from the sunlight. One of her Guardians was wiping a fine layer of burned skin from her face and bosom, leaving raw pink underskin in its wake.

Max looked down. He noticed the warm yellow had dulled at their feet. A cloud was moving over the sky and soon would block the sun. Their sanctuary would disappear.

“I don't suppose you thought this through any further,” he said, brandishing the sword at a younger undead who dared take a step toward them.

“I was rather hoping that since I got us this far you'd have an idea.”

The smoke was getting thicker, and some of the furnishings were starting to kindle. It would be a very short time until the entire room erupted in flames. The dry, rotting curtains that hung at the black windows were already suffused with angry orange and red tongues.

Something quick and dark snaked from the circle of vampires, whipping in, and Max turned in time to see Victoria struggling in Phillip's arms. The light and dark divided them: She was in the sunbeams, he in the safety of shadows, trying to pull her into the shade. Part of his arm was in the sun, and his face twisted from the pain of sunshine blasting down on him, but he did not release her. Victoria's feet were planted far apart, her arms pulled behind her, and as Max watched, Phillip looped an arm around her waist and swept her out of the light.

She reared up, struggling to break free. Her face was wet with tears, and she seemed to be saying something over and over…and finally she bowed her head and slammed it backward into Phillip's nose. He released her, and, seizing the opportunity, Max hefted his sword and brought it back in a strong swing.

But before he could finish it and cleave the Marquess of Rockley's head from his body, Victoria staggered back into the yellow light and grabbed his sword arm, sending the powerful blow slicing through the sun and shadow, down Phillip's body and to the floor. “No, Max!” she cried. “
No!
”

“You can't save him, Victoria,” he shouted back, furious and suddenly frightened. She couldn't save him. Didn't she understand that?

“No!” Victoria cried again.

“You cannot leave me, Victoria,” Phillip said, inching closer, his voice a hollow echo of what it had been. “You belong here with me.” Compelling. So compelling, so sweet and alluring. And unavoidable.

Max grabbed her arm when she would have moved toward him. The pull…He understood that. What he didn't understand was the strength of Phillip's call to Victoria, as such a young undead. She was a Venator.

“Phillip,” she sobbed, but she had a stake in her hand.

“Come to me, Victoria,” her husband pleaded. “Your friend can go…but you must come to me.
I need you.
She promised me I would have you.”

Then Max heard her, moving toward them in their circle of warm light. Lilith. She had recovered. He already felt the pull, the demand. She was calling him…and it was with fury this time. He would die. The games were over.

They had no way out.

Then, as the light tipped even paler, he caught a movement from above. They looked up and saw a rope hurtling down from the broken dome above. More glass tumbled below as the rope brushed against the fragile edge, and as the shadows kicked at the remains. More light spilled into the chamber, making their island of safety that much larger.

“Kritanu!” Victoria breathed.

Max saw the dark face of her trainer, and then Briyani's as the two bent over the hole in the ceiling. The timing could have been no better. They truly were doing holy work.

One of the vampires leaped, trying to grab the rope as it swung near the edge of the light. He caught it but lost his balance and fell at their feet in the pool of sun. Screaming in agony, he tried to roll away, still holding the rope. Max brought his sword down and the screaming stopped. The rope hung free again.

“Go!” Victoria shouted, shoving a handful of rope toward Max.

“I'll not leave you—”

“I have the book,” she said fiercely. “And you've been bitten. Go
now
!”

The vampires were closing in, their fangs gleaming as the sun began to fade under a swath of clouds. Lilith stood at the very edge of the line of light and dark, but she stepped no further. The smoke filtered up through the hole, hanging at the very upper edge of the room, and the flames were close enough that Max could feel their searing heat. Even if the sun weren't fading, the curling edges of fire would drive them from their safe area before long.

When Lilith would have reached for him, Victoria lifted her satchel and held it in front of her. “One move, Lilith, and I will throw the book into the fire.”

Just then another rope dropped. Max caught it and wrapped it around Victoria's waist, tying it tightly. “Pull!” he shouted above, and immediately he found himself rising through the air. He swung back and forth like a pendulum, and, looking down, he could see his shadow cut through the circle of sun in a rhythmic pattern, the moving blemish in the yellow sphere growing smaller as he rose higher.