The Rest Falls Away

Chapter Twenty-Seven 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 set 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; 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. That was helpful.

Lilith stepped back, but did not appear surprised. "You took that from your husband. There is 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 that I had 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 burst, and shards of glass rained down on the center of the floor… and noon sunlight blasted 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, and 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 back 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.

"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 said. "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 felt the pull, the demand already. 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.

"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 did not step farther. 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.

Victoria held on to her satchel, so she could not climb as well, but Max had tied the knot tightly and she was lifted slightly off the ground. As she rose, Phillip leaped into the light and grabbed at her foot, pulling her back.

"No!" he shouted.

Max was halfway to the top when he looked down and saw Phillip pulling on her. Victoria didn't seem to be struggling; she seemed frozen, hung suspended in the air, the heavy satchel pressed to her chest. Phillip had her foot and had angled her out of the light. He was nearly climbing up her legs to pull her back down, adding his weight and strength to the burden Kritanu struggled to raise.

"Victoria!" Max shouted. He couldn't go back; they were pulling him up, and he couldn't climb down.

She wasn't fighting; she wasn't struggling.

Phillip reached the rope around her waist, tugging on it, and Max watched in disbelief as the rope he'd just tied loosened and Victoria fell to the floor, half in the light and half in the dark.

The rope dangled uselessly from the dome.

"Phillip," Max heard Victoria say. She was not moving, just looking up at him. Her husband looked down at her, then at Lilith, as if asking for permission.

"Put me back. Now!" Max shouted up to Kritanu, but the rope continued to rise inexorably. Kritanu's face was no longer looking down from the dome; he had moved away in order to pull up the heavy weight. "Kritanu!" He struggled to loosen the knot, his fingers digging into the rough hemp around his waist.

Phillip pulled Victoria to her feet, and she was no longer in the sun. The rope hung behind her, still swaying.

"You can't save him!" Max shouted, trying to untie the rope around his waist so he could drop back down and help her. But his weight and the pull of gravity had tightened the knot so that he couldn't pull it apart. He was nearly to the top of the dome and was just beginning to notice the smoke.

The room was so large that the smoke, which should have been clogging and choking them, dissipated and hung near the tall ceiling; the fire was a greater danger than the smoke.

He saw movement as Lilith swept her arm in permission. Phillip fell on Victoria, and her head tipped back as though he'd commanded it. Max could almost hear the groan of need from him as he bent toward her open neck.

"The book, Lilith! He will destroy it!" Max shouted, swinging more wildly with his agitation. He could see the wall of flame moving toward the circle of vampires; but they were unconcerned. Fire would not harm them. Only Victoria.

"Stop!" shouted Lilith, extending her arm and reaching for Phillip through the air.

Phillip stiffened as though she had grabbed his neck, whimpering, but he did not move. Max could hear his labored breathing, and, thank God, Lilith's power released her and Victoria came to herself. She pulled away.

She fell back into the sunlight, and Phillip did not stop her. She lay back, sprawling in a much smaller circle of light than had been there moments before.

"If you want the book," she said, her voice steadier than Max would have expected it, "you let me go. I will give it to you."

Max looked down, tried to see what was happening below. And then, as his rope spun him in a gentle circle, he saw the line next to him move, tighten. "Pull!" he shouted above. "She's ready! Go!"

As Victoria rose through the smoke, he could hear her. "The Book of Antwartha. Lilith, the book is yours! You will search for it no longer!"

"No! Victoria, no!" Max shouted, and then heard the dull thud as the book hit the ground far below. And then, through the faint haze of smoke, he saw the manuscript, sitting in its circle of glowing yellow, waiting to be snatched up by the vampires.

Then he could see no more.

From below a woman screamed, shrieking in pain and rage, and suddenly Max was being dragged out of the smoky air into the fresh, beautiful sunlight.

He scrambled aside and set to helping Kritanu and Briyani raise Victoria.

When she finally reached the top, her face smudged with black, he helped pull her over the glass edges, careful not to cut her. But that didn't stop him from lighting into her in another way.

"You gave her the book?" he shouted. "Victoria!"

"What is left of it," she replied calmly, as if she'd just stopped by for tea. "I dropped it, and the Book turned to dust. It is gone forever."

Max stepped back, planting his foot firmly on the sloping roof. "I presume…" He paused, because if he didn't measure his words carefully, he might kill her. "I presume you did that knowing it would be the effect."

"Of course. As soon as the sunlight touched it, it crumbled, just as Wayren planned." She turned to follow Kritanu and Briyani off the roof of the burning building, leaving Max to follow behind.

He had several other things to say to her, but they would have to wait. Though she'd tried to hide them, he had seen the tears.