As Shadows Fade

spoken the truth about that, at least.

Victoria tightened her fingers around the grip of her sword and glanced back toward the south, in the direction of Muntii Fagaras. Where Max was.

She swallowed as the urge to leave, to go after him, clawed through her anew. How much could she believe of Adolphus?

Anything? Anything at all?

He had spoken truthfully when he claimed Lilith was his enemy. It would be to his benefit if Lilith were dead…

Victoria was standing there, trembling, shaking against the need to go, when Michalas found her.

“I’ve seen no sign of him,” he said, looking at her curiously.

“That’s no matter,” she replied soberly, wondering how long she’d been here with the demon. “I found him. He’s gone for now.” She looked up at the clouds. “There’s nothing we can do tonight.”

And she returned reluctantly to the tavern for another night of doing nothing while Max suffered.

And possibly Sebastian with him.

Twenty-One In Which Our Heroine Chafes at the Bit

There was no thought of sleeping that night, for a variety of reasons-the least of which was that Victoria absolutely couldn’t keep her eyes closed for more than a moment.

For a woman used to always doing, a day and night of sitting and waiting was like a personal hell.

Especially since those hours of nothing, nothing, nothing! gave her plenty of time to imagine Max in the hands of Lilith. The crafty demon had pulled all the terrible thoughts and images from the depths of Victoria’s mind, from where she’d stuffed them deeply so that she could concentrate on the matter at hand… He’d tugged them free, releasing them into full-blown terror, and now they constantly assaulted her.

Along with those images teased the secret he’d told her about Lilith. Was it true? Could something as simple as a stake of virgin ash paralyze the great vampiress?

Why would he lie about that?

To give her a reason to leave.

Or… to give her the weapon to destroy Lilith.

It tantalized her, that possibility.

There were no vampires to hunt in this small town, likely run off by the demons. And now that the sun had disappeared completely, the clouds hung heavy and thick, obscuring the moon so darkly that nary a whisper of a beam escaped. The night sat, dark and leaden, over the cemetery. Even the white gravestones appeared no lighter than the dark ground in which they sat.

Victoria had Tached’s Orb safely in her pocket, in the event that the clouds shifted and there was the chance to use it. But for now, she sat on her mount on the same small hill overlooking the cemetery. Watching. Waiting.

Hoping something happened.

The village clustered behind her, close enough that she could hear voices from the tavern, where Brim and Michalas remained. She’d instructed them to stay there, to watch the clouds and to come at the sign of any movement. They were close enough that she could call for them if something changed. But for now, Victoria wanted only to be alone. They tried too hard to be jovial and to keep her mind occupied.

The last time she’d checked the time, midnight was near.

If anything meant to slip through the crevice of the portal, it would be in the darkest part of night. The demon’s attempts to entice her away earlier today confirmed Victoria’s suspicions that something would happen soon. He’d been so intent on getting her away tonight… and though she’d run him off, Victoria was under no illusion that he’d given up.

As she watched, she kept her attention on not only the small, squat building, which acted as a visual placeholder for the portal, but also on the sky above. The clouds had begun to move, fat and heavy, limned with the silver of a hidden moon.

Hope had Victoria backing her horse up, keeping an eye on the cemetery as she moved back toward the tavern, ready to call for Brim and Michalas. The clouds had definitely started to shift and churn, and at the same time, a darkness gathered below.

The demons.

They were released.

Victoria’s heart picked up speed, and she turned her horse now, ready to ride back into the village, keeping her gaze over her shoulder as she kicked the flanks of her mount.

The street was empty and dark, but raucous laughter and warm light spilled from the tavern. Just as Victoria was ready to slide off her horse and dash in to call the others, she saw him at the end of the street.

Max.

Her heart stopped, and she looked again at the unmistakable figure, tall and easy in the saddle, moving quickly down the road toward her.

It was impossible.

It was Adolphus, drawing her away from the cemetery as his demons escaped.

She kicked up her mount and started toward him, glancing back at the stirring clouds and the rising black fog.

It can’t be him.

Hope rose; then she pushed it back.

He hailed her with a raised arm, and her heart kicked up a notch… then sagged back into ugly despair. He was alone.

Sebastian had gone to save him. Surely Sebastian would be with him if he’d succeeded.

Victoria thought to ignore him. She turned her horse, ready to gallop back to the cemetery and fight the demons there. A wordless shout stopped her, and she saw that he’d kicked his horse to catch up to her in the street.

She saw his face, weary and stubbled, his eyes deep and dark in their sockets, hair hanging in straggles. It was too dark to read his expression-but whatever it was wouldn’t be true. This wasn’t real.

Pulling her sword free, galvanized by fury driven by her dashed hopes, she swung toward him. If she killed him, would that stop the flood of his minions?

A blow to the neck. A good one.

He dodged, pulling his own sword free in a smooth movement. He gave an exclamation as their blades clashed, startling the horses into skittishness.

Clamping her legs tightly, Victoria held on as the horse stumbled and shifted. Then she blasted out with her sword, aiming for his neck.

The demon pulled back, blocking her every move while making no effort to slash at her.

A glance over her shoulder told Victoria that the roiling black cloud had risen higher at the cemetery, and she noticed a glimmer of moonlight.

Desperate for one last chance, she propelled herself upright in the saddle and brought the lethal sword out and around, in a long, vicious swipe. He dodged at the last minute, and the blade cut into the top of his arm, slicing down and across his coat. “Victoria!” he roared.

The momentum of her strike kept the sword in motion, swinging the heavy blade up and around again in a powerful arc-and then she saw the blood.

Blood.

She barely caught herself before the weapon sliced fully into his side, and that last-minute restraint, along with his quick dodge, saved him from nothing more than a graze down the side of his other arm.

“Christ Almighty. I know you’re angry, but-”