Rises the Night

Chapter 26 A Case of Mistaken Identity

Victoria turned away from Max's steady look to place her hand on the door, lifting the latch. The sword still hung from her numb fingers.

She was out of breath, weak and unsteady, but under it all there was a wave of satisfaction. She'd killed the vampire prince without her vis bulla, using only her meager woman strength, her agile mind—and what Kritanu would have to consider the most unpredictable fighting move she'd ever executed.

Satisfaction, yes, it simmered through her.

But when she looked at Max it fizzled away into a mass of uncertain emotion: nausea, grief, and shock.

And she knew he saw the anger that still burned in her eyes. Knew that she didn't know how to look at him, how to feel toward him. How could she? He'd spent a year living with the Tutela, pretending to be one of them so skillfully that even she'd questioned his loyalty… yet in the end he'd destroyed the obelisk and saved them all.

Except Aunt Eustacia. Could she ever forgive him for that?

"What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?"

His words—not the humble ones she'd expected—startled her, but when she looked back at him, the rage in his dark eyes was enough to make her take a step away.

He was angry with her?

"I was saving your miserable life!" she shot back, her trembling hand tightening on the latch. "You destroyed the obelisk and I wanted—"

"You wanted? Yes, it was all about you, wasn't it?" he snarled. "You gave no thought to anything but what you wanted. Revenge—on me, on Nedas, on whoever got in your way. Never mind the fact that you're helpless as a child now, that I risked my bloody neck to get you out of here, nearly lost the one chance I had to stop Nedas. If you don't survive, everything we've accomplished tonight will be in jeopardy."

He stood tall and threatening over her, his dark hair falling over his face, bloodshot eyes flashing anger, and fingers planted on the wall next to her as though to keep himself from throttling her. "You are The Gardella now, Victoria. You have an obligation to the Consilium and the rest of the Venators. You can no longer think only of yourself, of your needs and desires, but of the far-reaching consequences of your actions. Or inactions." He pulled away, straightening, as the sounds of shouts and dashing feet sounded again in the distance. "It's time you learned to sacrifice."

"As my aunt sacrificed?" Victoria spat, anger, grief, shock, all barreling through her, making her weak and disoriented. Her animosity grew, burning along her nerves. "You made that choice for her, Max. I made the choice to save your life when you would have died back there."

"And by doing so, you forced me to live with what I've done. You've done me no favor, and done nothing for the Consilium."

"Why didn't you tell me that you planned to destroy the obelisk?"

"Hmm. Could it have been because you either would have demanded to know how, and every single detail, and insisted on assisting, or that you would not have believed me? I told you in every way possible that you needed to leave, and apparently even blatant rudeness didn't work."

"So you had Sebastian kidnap me. But why didn't you tell me when you came to release me? You could have told me then."

"Yes, and you would have left, wouldn't you? You would have trotted out the door with the stake and pistol like a good chit and that would have been that."

"I didn't anyway, did I? You could have told me more when you came."

"Victoria, they were waiting for anything—any hint or breath or anything from me that would give them reason not to trust me. I couldn't take the chance that they thought something else was going on other than… other than the fact that I didn't want you killed. For whatever reason," he added sharply. "I let them think it, for it was better than the alternative. I suspected they even gave me the opportunity to free you in hopes of hearing me tell you something to confirm their suspicions. I didn't dare. I couldn't risk it."

The vampires were almost upon them. There was no time to linger any longer. It would either be sunrise or starlight, certain freedom or more running. Victoria whipped the latch open.

The door flew open into a dark night. The stars spread across the sky in a wide diamond scarf that, normally, Victoria would have found beautiful, but tonight found disappointing. She had been hoping for pinks and oranges.

Her body gave a sudden lurch as Max shoved her through, and she tumbled out onto the dirt-worn area outside the door. She heard the door close behind her, and she twisted around on the ground.

But no, he was there, standing at the door, looking past her. Still.

Victoria swiveled back around, there on her knees, sword grasped in her hand, panting. A pair of boots stepped out of the shadows and stopped in front of her.

She looked up and saw the shadow of an elegant chin, with silver-tipped hair curling in a moonlit halo around it.

"Sebastian." The accusation in her voice was unmistakable. "Once again, your timing is impeccable."

The boots stepped closer, and his shadow fell across her hand grasping the sword. "I see you are quite familiar with my grandson's penchant for disappearing at the most inopportune—or, in his case, fortuitous—moments."

Victoria stretched her neck to look all the way up at him, and noticed several other pairs of booted feet moving out of the shadows. Her neck was frigid again, but she still held a blessed weapon. She pulled to her feet, as slowly and smoothly as she could. Her trousers still clung to her knees where the cold, damp earth had pressed into them. "Beauregard, I presume. I'd begun to wonder if you were merely a figment of your grandson's imagination." She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Max was still standing there, the door to the theater closed behind him.

The elder vampire laughed, reminding her uncomfortably of Sebastian. "I'm rather surprised he would have even told you about me. Now. Since you are here, am I to assume you were unsuccessful in your task this evening? Has Nedas activated Akvan's Obelisk?"

Now that he'd moved, and the stars and moon illuminated him, she could see that it was obvious he wasn't Sebastian. There was a resemblance—their hair the same unruly mass of curls, although Beauregard's was lighter blond in comparison to his grandson's honey-colored ones. He was older, too, but not elderly. Perhaps he had been in his late forties when he'd been turned by the female vampire who'd tricked him. His face bore the same trace of patrician elegance that Sebastian wore, but his nose was wider and his lips not quite as inviting as his grandson's. His eyes were completely different; even though they weren't glowing red, it was obvious they were darker than Sebastian's, and set deeply into his skull, giving him a closed-lidded look that reminded her of Phillip. Still, indeed, he was a fetching enough man for being a centuries-old vampire, and a grandfather to boot.

He was looking at Max, who stood with his back to the door. Perhaps he was leaning against it; Victoria wasn't certain. He still held a stake in his hand, dangling at his side.

"Akvan's Obelisk is destroyed," Max told him.

Beauregard lifted his chin. "You succeeded, then. I didn't wish for Nedas to have that immense power any more than Lilith does. And you are still alive? How convenient for me."

"Not by any fault of his own," Victoria replied. She moved, and the sword glinted in the moonlight.

This drew Beauregard's attention, and he jerked his head in command. "You will no longer need that. And where is Nedas?"

Sebastian stepped out from behind the cluster of vampires, his gaze steady on Victoria as he walked toward her.

"No," she said, stepping back toward Max, holding the sword in front of her.

"Nedas is dead," Max replied to Beauregard.

"I'll take it. Now, Victoria," Sebastian commanded. She couldn't see his face well, but the steel in his voice was very uncharacteristic of his charming personality.

Max moved behind her. He reached around and closed his fingers around her wrist, holding her back with his other arm around her waist, while Sebastian plucked the sword from her weak grasp.

"What are you doing?" Victoria struggled in his arms, kicking back at Max and forward at Sebastian, until Max released her suddenly and she tumbled to the ground.

"Easy, Victoria." Sebastian stood next to his grandfather, looking down at her. "You were not wanted, nor expected, to be here." He didn't offer her his hand to assist her to her feet.

"We have your incompetence to thank for our current situation, Vioget," Max sneered, still leaning against the door.

Sebastian raised one eyebrow. "I see that you have managed to keep her under control as well."

"I had a few other tasks to accomplish."

Victoria struggled to her feet, trying not to think about how many times she'd had to do that in the last day. And how much more difficult it was becoming. "Did she really send you?" she demanded of Max.

"Yes, Lilith sent me. Ostensibly as a gift to her son—a Venator pet, as she said. One that would bring the secrets of the Venators to the Tutela and the vampires, and support them when Akvan's Obelisk was empowered. I was the perfect candidate, as I was once Tutela. A long time ago."

"When—"

"Silence." Beauregard stepped toward her, eyes suddenly gleaming like pink rubies, his fangs long and lethal. Until now she hadn't known he was a Guardian vampire. "You are not in control here. Now, both of you, back inside." He turned to Sebastian, looking in disgust at the sword. "Get that out of my sight."

Victoria didn't move, so Beauregard snapped an order at two of the vampires who flanked him. They grasped her by the elbows and easily hustled her toward the door, which Max had opened.

Three vampires spilled out, fangs extended, eyes red, ready for battle. There were more, crowded in the doorway behind them.

When they saw Beauregard, however, they froze.

Victoria looked back to see Beauregard smiling at the new arrivals. It wasn't a pleasant smile; it gave her, one who'd seen altogether too many vampire expressions, an uneasy feeling in her middle.

"We have detained the ones who attacked you and killed Nedas this night," he announced, stepping forward with a commanding air. "As your new leader, I shall impose retribution. Immediately."

It was a familiar scene in some ways, when Sebastian brought Victoria out onto the opera stage where only a short time ago the greatest of evil sources had burned and sizzled. Ironic how it had metamorphosed from the scene of a bright, loud performance only days earlier, complete with the swell of music and the clear vibration of song, to a blackened shell, with half of the floor destroyed, and the seats filled not with patrons, but with immortal undead, waiting and watching for their own performance.

She had given up deciding whether she should be angry with Sebastian, or resigned to his actions and thus angry with herself. Hadn't she always known he wasn't to be trusted, even when she made love with him? And now here they were, with no longer any question about where he stood and what was important to him.

Squarely opposite her.

And Max… where did Max stand in all of this? He'd destroyed the obelisk, but had forced her to give the sword up to Beauregard—and Sebastian. Of course, they were outnumbered and would never have been able to fight their way through the group of vampires. But it still made her uneasy.

Beauregard was seated in the center of the stage in a large chair that Victoria recognized as having come from the props area. He looked regal and powerful, with his eyes glowing and upper fangs pressing gently into the flesh below his lower lip.

"What does he want me for?" Victoria asked in a low voice, looking at Beauregard from where she stood in the wings with Sebastian.

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out, Victoria," he replied with his customary drawl. "Beauregard and Nedas have long been rivals for leadership over the vampires. My grandfather couldn't be more pleased that not only has Akvan's Obelisk been destroyed, but that you've rid him of Nedas."

"Then he should be shouting for joy and releasing us instead of planning 'retribution.'"

"Of course. And the moment he chose not to execute two Venators, who are the mortal enemies of his followers, how long do you think he would be in control of the Tutela and the vampires? Regardless of the favors done him today, he is not about to relinquish the power he's been seeking simply by sparing the lives of two Venators. Now, come with me and be quiet. Just stand there and look pretty; fortunately, my grandfather has a penchant for beautiful women."

"It appears you have made quite an indelible impression on my grandson," Beauregard told her as Sebastian brought her forth to his side. "You made an excellent choice," he added to his grandson. "I can see now wherefore comes your attraction to the woman. She is quite comely."

"I ask that you spare her life for the sole reason that she pleases me," Sebastian said with a short bow. "She has been disarmed and no longer wears the symbol of the Venators. She is little threat."

Victoria had to fight to keep her face blank. She might be little threat now, but as soon as she returned to the Consilium she would be wearing a new vis bulla, and would be back on the streets.

Assuming Sebastian could charm his grandfather as effectively as he'd charmed her.

"I can see that. It would be simple to preserve that beauty for all eternity, Sebastian. She could be your concubine forever, just as she is today." Beauregard's eyes glinted with a hint of the same flirtation that his grandson often used, but in this case it made Victoria's stomach lurch. "And it would be my great pleasure to do so."

"No, thank you, Grandfather. But I do ask that you spare her."

"I will spare her, only because you have asked, Sebastian. But on this occasion only. If there so be a chance that we meet again, under different circumstances, I cannot make the same promise." He cast his ruby gaze over Victoria, and she felt the full force of his power, the tug of his thrall, and the faint, brief curiosity of what it would be like to allow his fangs to sink into her neck.

He smiled wider when he recognized her response, then turned to Sebastian. "Are you quite certain? Well, then, I shall turn my attention to the other. Bring him forth."

Victoria swallowed, her throat dry and tight.

Max.

She had an awful, spiraling feeling about what was in store for him. Particularly since Sebastian had made his feelings toward Max absolutely clear.

Which was more than she could say for herself.

She stopped, pulling on Sebastian's arm. "What about Max?"

"I cannot—will not—save him too," he told her, pulling her after him.

"Your grandfather will kill him. But why? After he made me give up the sword to you, I thought—"

"No, Maximilian shares no love for Beauregard any more than he does for me. He was merely protecting you when he made you give me the sword. Even together you couldn't have won a fight with Beauregard, and now that he knows that I have ensured your safety, he'll accept his own sentence. Now hurry, before my grandfather changes his mind."

Sebastian was directing her quickly off the stage when suddenly something whooshed past them, hurtling from above and landing with a loud, heavy thud on the stage, just between them and Beauregard.

Victoria jumped back and looked up to see glowing red eyes on the very same catwalk she'd been on hours earlier; someone had done exactly as she had—released another of the heavy backdrops and sent it hurtling to the floor.

Everything disintegrated into mayhem. Vampires swarmed everywhere, new arrivals—or perhaps older ones, who had been lurking in the shadows of the auditorium—attacking Beauregard's men.

"Victoria, come!" Sebastian was clearly shocked and alarmed, and for the second time tonight she found herself being pulled away from the stage, which had suddenly turned into a battleground.

She saw Max as Sebastian tugged her away.

He was standing at one end of the stage, weaponless, defending himself from a single vampire as others fought around him. It would be moments before he was subdued or outnumbered.

Victoria stopped, automatically looking around for something to use as a weapon, and Max looked over at her. Their eyes met across the melee and she read the message there: the same one he'd been giving her since she'd seen him at Regalado's.

Go.

"Victoria!" Sebastian was tugging on her, but she had gripped the hem of the velvet curtain hanging at the edge of the stage, and used it to keep herself in place and half-hidden.

She swallowed, watched as Max tried to whirl and spin away from the vampire who leaped at him… saw him falter, then pull to his feet.

He looked at her again, his face a mask of anger and determination.

She had to leave.

But she couldn't make her feet move.

Despite what he'd done… she couldn't leave him. He was a Venator. She couldn't leave him to die.

She couldn't make that sacrifice!

She needed him.

With Aunt Eustacia gone, she needed Max. Someone she could trust.

Victoria jerked from Sebastian's grip, staggering a step forward at the sudden release, then losing her balance and tumbling to the stage floor. On her knees for a brief moment, she noticed something glinting under the curtain. Reaching to retrieve it, she pulled it from under the heavy velvet and realized what she was holding.

It was a shard from Akvan's Obelisk. Its diameter was no more than the width of two fingers, and its length less than that of her forearm: the size of a stake. She smelled the evil, felt it sizzle when she picked it up and kept it as she backed out from under the table. Energy zinged along her arm.

She used the curtain to pull herself to her feet, and looked back over the stage. Max was still there, but he was weakening, and distracted by looking at her to make sure she was leaving.

She had to go.

She had to put aside her own feelings and sacrifice.

"Victoria!" Sebastian was grabbing at the wrist of the hand that held the shard, and this time, with one last glance back at Max, she let him drag her off.

"What are you doing with that?" he said over his shoulder as they dashed off.

"I'll take it to Wayren," Victoria replied, pulling her hand away from his grip.

They ran through the theater, now without the vampires behind them. The sounds of violence still raged and echoed in the half-burned building.

Sebastian stopped at the door that led outside. "I must go back."

"What? What is going on?"

"It's Regalado. He's fighting to win the leadership of the vampires. I cannot leave my grandfather to face him alone. You are safe; you see the sun has risen, and you must go."

Before she could protest further, he pushed her up against the wall, his fingers clamping her shoulders through the thin fabric of her runic. His mouth descended to hers, hungry and warm, apology and desire and farewell all mixed in with sensual lips and a strong, slick tongue.

She kissed him back for a moment, her breath rushing between them; then she tugged her mouth away. "But you don't kill vampires."

"I know. But even I have some honor." He kissed her again, fitting his mouth back to hers, then closed his eyes and tipped his forehead to hers. Drew in a deep breath. "Be safe. Now go."

He shoved her out the door, slamming it closed behind her.

The sky was pink and orange, just the way she'd hoped it would have been hours before. She blinked in the bright light and turned to look back.

She wanted to go in. God, she wanted to go back in there.

But she'd done the right thing.

For all she knew… Max was dead by now.

And she hoped Sebastian would not soon follow.

Yet, she could not leave. She couldn't just walk away, find a hack, and go back to the villa.

She stood on the dew-damp grass, frozen like stone.