dared to abduct Wayren.
And Max… Max was more than capable of taking care of himself. She shook her head and felt the hair loosen from its tie at her neck. A chin-length strand fell into her face, and she brushed it back impatiently.
“Now there’s the Victoria I know,” said Sebastian airily, as though he’d watched her pull herself together.
She saw that they were just at the approach of the bridge. Great statues guarded the arched entrance tower.
“As I’d begun to tell you,” he continued as their mounts clopped onto cobblestones, “when the bridge was built, the masons added egg yolk to the mortar to make it stronger. People from all over the country sent eggs here to Praha in order to assist. And,” he added with a smile as their horses took the first steps onto the bridge, “one particularly helpful town thought to hard-boil the eggs before sending them in order to keep them from breaking during the journey.”
Victoria saw the glitter of lights ahead and along the bridge, but the orange roofs and cream-colored buildings had turned gray in the low light. She looked over at Sebastian. “They hard-boiled them?”
“Ah, so you were listening,” he said. “I thought perhaps I’d lost you. Yes, indeed. According to the tale I heard, the eggs weren’t so helpful for the mortar, but they were a fine snack for the builders.”
She gave a short laugh and at the same moment felt a familiar chill over the back of her neck. A vampire, perhaps two.
A surge of energy swept through her as she reached for the stake she kept inside her boot. When she rose upright in her saddle, she caught Sebastian’s eye and saw that he’d armed himself similarly.
With a quick sweep of her gaze, she identified the undead as a handsome young man near one of the statues. He rode on a large horse and smiled down at a woman who lugged a heavy basket on wide leather straps over her shoulder. She was well past Victoria’s age and, in the lantern light, looked haggard and tired. She’d be no match for a superhuman undead, but, given the option, the vampire would probably prefer fresh, younger blood.
Such as Victoria’s.
With a telling glance at Sebastian, she pulled the tie from her hair and yanked the edge of her cloak down over to hide her breech-clad legs. Then, urging her mount forward, she brushed past the vampire and his intended victim.
“Pardon me, sir,” she said, looking at the vampire, pulling his attention from the older woman. She saw and felt the spark of interest when she stopped just beyond him and turned as if in need of help. Her English speech identified her as a stranger, and Sebastian had stayed far enough back that it wasn’t evident that they were traveling together.
The vampire, fickle as she expected him to be, directed his horse away from the older woman and toward this more attractive prey. Victoria watched beyond him as Sebastian moved toward the woman and alighted from his saddle. He’d make certain she got safely away.
“May I help you?” he asked, in accented English.
“Yes, oh, thank you for speaking English,” Victoria stammered. “I’m a bit lost, you see, and I was hoping you might help me to find an inn for the night.”
From her perspective, it seemed that any self-respecting vampire with a dram of common sense might question how such a ripe plum of a victim would fall into his lap… but this particular undead appeared to have no suspicions about the serendipity of the situation. In fact, his eyes lit with unholy glee, seemingly unaware that his other prey had begun to walk along.
“But of course,” he replied. “Let us cross the bridge and get to the Town Square. There are many rooms for let there.”
And many dark corners into which a victim could be dragged and sucked bone-dry.
“Oh, thank you,” Victoria replied, wishing that she could simply slam the stake into him right here. But it would be rather difficult to explain how a man suddenly disappeared from his saddle and turned into a puff of musty ash. Too many people wandered about.
But the moment they reached a dark corner-and, ironically, they would both be intent on reaching such a locale-Victoria’s stake would find its home if he wasn’t able to tell them where Katerina was. And even if he was.
“You’re lost, you say? Where are you going?” he asked, keeping his horse next to hers along one side of the bridge as though to block her from any other passersby.
Victoria turned away coyly. “For tonight, I wish only to find a place to sleep. In the morning… well, in the morning, I shall meet my friend.” Not her best lie, but the vampire seemed patently uninterested in anything but guiding her into a dark corner.
In fact, he didn’t flicker an eyelash over her vague, rather silly story. This undead was definitely one of the less capable vampires she’d ever met. It just went to show what Aunt Eustacia had always told her. There were smart vampires and foolish ones, silly ones and frightening ones… but regardless of their personalities, every one of them was evil and bent on one thing: drinking human blood.
By now they’d crossed the bridge, walking their horses under the gateway toward Old Town.
Victoria found the area on the eastern bank of the Vlatava much closer and darker than the west side, from which she and Sebastian had approached the city. Connected buildings, creamy white ones with the familiar orange roofs, butted up along narrow, twisting cobble streets. Row after row of houses connected ten or twelve in a row of varying heights and widths. Many had lights burning in the windows, but they were obscured by curtains or shutters, and the illumination gave little to the shadowy streets.
When Victoria and the undead moved far enough from the bridge, she eased her horse into a particularly shadowy corner and stopped. “Oh dear,” she said, pretending to fuss with the bag attached to the back of her saddle. The vampire moved closer, and when she looked up, she found red eyes burning next to her face.
“I don’t think you’re going to need a place to sleep tonight,” he said, reaching for her arm. “But if you insist, I can certainly provide accommodations.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Victoria said calmly. “I seek Katerina. Where is she?”
“Who are you?” he asked. But he didn’t move away.
“I’m looking for the Ring of Jubai. Does she have it?”
“Who are you?” Now he pulled back, his eyes fading a bit in surprise.
Impatient with his repetitive response, she grabbed the front of his coat. And then Sebastian appeared just behind the vampire, blocking his horse into the corner with her.
The vampire, who was, in the end, too foolish to look more than a bit alarmed-but not truly frightened-turned at this new presence.
“Ah, I thought that was you, Antonнn,” Sebastian said in a liquid-smooth voice. “I suggest you remove your hands from her if you wish to see another sunrise. Or… pardon me. I meant to say… sun
Antonнn released Victoria, his eyes definitely no longer as pink. “Vioget?”
“Alas, but you don’t seem pleased to see me at all.”
“No, I should say not. And Katerina… I don’t believe she would welcome you either, considering the last time you were here.” Then he swiveled back to Victoria, and she could see calculation in his face. “And who is this that you protect her so vehemently?”
“This is
“
“You have faulty information, for as you can see, I am alive and well. If you take me to Katerina… or, better yet, obtain the Ring of Jubai for me, I may perhaps allow you to see another… What was it, Sebastian? Sunset?” She leaned closer and got a whiff of undeadness. “Or perhaps I will not.”
“Is she at the tavern?” asked Sebastian.
“Not at night,” Antonнn replied. When Sebastian made a face of disbelief, he continued. “I’ve no reason to lie! Her quarrel is with you, and most likely I’d be rewarded if I brought you to her. But I can’t get the ring for you. She’s never removed it since Germintrude gave it to her. She thinks it will help bring her husband back to her
