Which meant that it had been merely by accident that he came upon her and Sebastian.
Firming her lips, she pushed herself and her gown between the two men and faced Sebastian. “I’ll check your pocket, then, if you won’t show me yourself.”
Sebastian’s mouth twitched. “Be my guest.”
But before she could slide her hand into that deep pocket in his undertunic, the waft of a chill breeze skittered over the back of her neck again. In spite of herself, she turned to look at Max, to see if he registered the presence of another undead…and he gave a brief, annoyed nod. His lips moved in a silent oath—but whether it was directed at her, or the new vampire presence, she wasn’t certain.
“Vioget. What are they after?” he said sharply.
The lower half of Sebastian’s face turned crafty. “A particularly well-thought member of the ton has become…shall we say…enamoured of the undead. When he—or she—” he glanced at Victoria, “please note that I do keep my clients’ confidences—last visited the Silver Chalice, a personal item was left behind. One that could identify him—or her.”
He stepped back, his hand beneath his tunic. “I was merely
“Now that you’ve entertained us with your fantasy, Vioget, you might just as well get out of here,” Max said, turning toward the door. “You’ll be no help now.”
Victoria felt his gaze pass over her, and got the impression that he had the same impression about her. Blasted man.
“Why, I do believe I shall,” Sebastian replied, moving quickly toward a window.
In a trice, he was gone.
Having nothing further to say to Max, Victoria swished past him, her stake at the ready. The new undead presence implied that the vampire had just recently arrived nearby, and it led Victoria to hope that the creature hadn’t yet been able to find and isolate a potential victim.
Out in the hall, she paused for a moment and noted that the back of her neck had grown still chillier. That boded no good, implying that either there were more than one undead, or that the creature was very close by. So, putting thoughts of golden-haired lute players and arrogant vampire hunters out of her mind, she gave herself over to her instincts.
Down. Something told her to go down.
The cold prickle grew stronger as she swept down the curling staircase, unaware—and uncaring—whether Max had deigned to follow her. She didn’t need him.
At the foyer, Victoria pushed through a small group of costumed party-goers clustered near the entrance to the ballroom, and was just about to slip off down the corridor when she caught sight of Phillip. He was just coming out of the ballroom, and carried a small cup of lemonade.
Blast.
With her tall hair, she hadn’t a chance of getting away without him seeing her, and so Victoria had to rush toward Phillip in an effort to head off an uncomfortable situation.
“Oh, thank you so much,” she cried, perhaps a bit more fervently than necessary. She took the cup with enthusiasm as she kept her stake hand tucked behind her.
“Are you mended and such?” he asked, edging toward her as if to take her arm. Perfect.
Victoria smiled up with genuine delight, and jostled against him just as he reached for her. The lemonade splashed everywhere, even up onto her chin.
“Oh dear,” she said, real regret in her voice. She hated that she had to do this, but, truly, it was for his own good. And that of whoever the vampire might be stalking. The last thing she needed was for a curious beau to follow her. “How clumsy of me!”
“No, it was I, perhaps being a bit too enthusiastic over seeing the moon with you.” He smiled apologetically. Phillip would have linked her arm closer, ignoring the spill, she was certain. So she continued, “I’ll just be a moment, my lord. So the stain doesn’t set. Perhaps….” Victoria gave him an apologetic smile.
“Of course,” he replied. “And I’m certain you’ll still have a thirst, so I shall occupy myself by obtaining a replacement. Do hurry,” he said breathlessly into her ear before releasing her arm. “Please.”
Victoria smiled up at him, warmth flushing over her face beneath the mask. “I will, Phillip. Most assuredly.”
He took himself off, and she turned and nearly barreled into Max.
“I trust you’ve gotten your affairs in order? Dance card filled? Beaus lined up in order of title and wealth?” he said blandly. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, perhaps you could—”
She didn’t hear the rest of his obnoxious comment, for she’d sailed off down the corridor, following the sensation at the back of her neck. When she came to the same door behind which she’d nearly interrupted her mother and Lord Jellington, Victoria stopped.
She did not want to open this door again.
But before she could, a soft cry—much more frightened than the one she’d followed earlier—reached her ears. It came from further down the hall, near the back of the house and the servants’ area.
Victoria hesitated no longer and took herself off so quickly that she lost a slipper, and her heavy coif bounced threateningly. The chill grew colder, and she heard another cry that led her to another closed door.
This time she didn’t wait. The back of her neck frigid, Victoria yanked off her mask and flung the door open.
In an instant, she saw three vampires, and four petrified maids. An impression of red eyes and gleaming white fangs drew her first, and Victoria lunged as well as she could in heavy skirts. She had the element of surprise, as well as that of her gender, as an advantage.
She shoved a goggle-eyed maid away from the vampire bending to her blood-streaked throat, and he bared his fangs as he came at her. He must not have seen the stake in her hand, for he left his chest unprotected and she slammed the point into his heart.
The vampire froze, then poofed into smelly, undead ash. Victoria whirled and found that the other two undead had released their victims and now started toward her. Her skirts caught up with her spin, then rocketed back in the opposite direction as she faced the undead.
One of them leapt toward her, fast and strong. But she was ready and kicked out from under layers of silk— rather more awkwardly than usual, but with enough force to catch one of the undead unawares. He stumbled back, crashing into the wall as Victoria spun to launch herself at his companion.
He was quicker than she’d expected, and he caught her arm, slamming her against the back of a chair. The hard wood edge caught her in the belly and she lost her breath, spots flickering before her eyes. Victoria gasped and flailed behind her with the stake, then struck out backward with one of her feet.
She smashed into something soft, and the grip on her arm released. Dragging in a ragged breath, she turned to find glowing red eyes behind her, and white fangs. Strong arms whipped out and grabbed her shoulders, squeezing hard into her flesh as he yanked her toward him. Her neck was bare, and the heavy tower of hair made it difficult for her to keep her head from lolling back.
Victoria kicked out again, but missed, and her foot got wrapped up in the layers of her costume. But her stake was still in her hand, and with all her effort, she slammed her face forward, bringing all the force of her jewel- strewn hair with her forehead into the vampire’s face.
He cried out in surprise and she wasted no time, her arm whipping around to shove the stake home.
And then there was one.
The vampire scrambled to his feet from where she’d shoved him against the wall moments earlier, and Victoria stumbled after him, turning to chase him toward the door.
But Max was standing there, and before the vampire took two steps, Max’s arm moved. Casually.
Victoria fought her breathing into a regular rhythm; the last thing she wanted was for Max to see her panting while he stood there as if he’d just arrived for tea.
He’d also disposed of his mask, and the expression on his rugged face was one of bald annoyance. “Whatever
