'I got the two inside. And four out here. There are still at least two.' He turned to look up at the window from which Victoria had escaped the room. 'But they've gone off. You climbed down that tree?'
Victoria nodded, then bent to pick up her other stake. Her breathing had gone back to normal, and it was just sinking in that not only had she been overwhelmed by the number of vampires and nearly lost the battle, but that Sebastian was the houseguest who let them in.
What was he doing here?
She dared not ask Max; to do so would be to admit that she knew Sebastian, and she was fairly certain that would be in violation of their agreement.
'Tell me what you know about the book.'
'It's going to be stolen tonight by two—or more—undead. Once they remove it from the house of its owner, it is safe for us to take. But if a mortal takes it, touches it to steal it, he or she will die.'
Max stared at her for a moment. 'Where did you learn this interesting bit of information?'
'We should not be standing here,' Victoria replied, starting to walk toward the front of the house. 'If there are at least two vampires left, they are still after the book. We will have to take it from them once they leave the house.'
'Victoria.' His voice was pitched threateningly, meant to stop her.
But she paid him no heed and continued toward the front side of the house. If she stood in a certain place, she could see the front doorway and remain hidden… whilst also having a view of the garden.
Max stalked after her; she couldn't see him, but could feel the annoyance in the way he moved, silently, but purposefully in her tracks. She picked a place in the shadows of a spreading oak, standing behind its trunk. Max stood just behind her, looking over her head. A piece of bark drifted onto her shoulder from where his fingers touched the tree.
'Victoria, where did you learn this information?'
'It doesn't matter. And besides, I have not asked you how you learned what you know,' she replied, still looking straight ahead at the house, trying not to shift. He was right behind her. 'Do you think they will remove the book tonight?'
'I don't have the same information you apparently have received, but it would be' my expectation that they will not return to Lilith without the book.'
'Undead have to remove it from the house. If there are only two or three of them, we should have no trouble relieving them of their burden.'
'Theoretically, yes.'
They fell silent, waiting, watching, breathing steadily and smoothly at last.
And then… Victoria started when Max's hand appeared in her periphery, a finger, pointing silently.
Three of them, walking toward the house, in the center of the street as if they owned it. Broad, tall, long hair gusting with each stride. Even from where she was, Victoria saw the whiteness of their skin, the deep, violet- red glow of narrowed eyes. And the long glint of metal swords drooping from their hands.
Her neck felt as if a wedge of ice were pressed against it.
Her stomach tightened and she surreptitiously rubbed her damp palm against the rough bark of the tree.
'Imperial vampires.' Max's voice was in her ear, barely audible.
But she hadn't needed to be told; Victoria already knew. The vampires closest to Lilith, closer than her elite retinue of Guardians, and so powerful they could pull the life energy from their victims without using their fangs— just their eyes.
Lilith was indeed taking no chances.
They didn't move as the Imperials approached Redfield Manor. It was fortunate they were downwind from the vampires, and that there was a gentle breeze. It might keep the three from scenting her and Max. Victoria watched them, her neck burning with chill. They were still a distance away, but even now she could feel the power, the hate… the evil. She stifled a shiver.
For the first time she was truly glad Max was there.
The Book of Antwartha was still inside the house, and would need to be removed by one of the undead, for Sebastian would not have been able to take it.
But why was he here?
Lilith knew that she and Max would do anything to stop her from getting' the book. Perhaps there were even more surprises awaiting them tonight. Victoria had an uneasy feeling that although they were prepared, the queen of the vampires was one step ahead of them.
If she had gone to Aunt Eustacia or Max to share what she knew, they might have been better able to plan their strategy. After all, Max had some experience with Imperials. But Victoria had gone solo, and so had Max, and now they were at the mercy of Lilith's determination.
How did one fight an Imperial? Her heart seemed to pound through her whole body. Surely the vampires must sense it!
As if reading her thoughts, one of the Imperials paused at the stoop of Redfield Manor, turning toward them and sniffing the air. Victoria held her breath and felt Max tense against her.
Then the vampire turned back to his companions, and they separated. Two went up the steps, and the one who'd faced them remained at the bottom, standing near the street. The length of his sword was a third leg, stretching from hip to ground.
The door of Redfield Manor opened and the two Imperials went in. The third was alone.
She nearly jumped when Max's fingers closed around her arm and he breathed into the vicinity of her ear, 'Me first. Wait; then you follow.' Without waiting for her response, he stepped from the shadow of the tree and began to walk boldly toward the Imperial.
He had no sword, no weapon but the ash stakes and a long, slender branch that had a jagged end.
Victoria watched as the Imperial turned to face Max striding across the grass that had somehow become damp. His burning eyes no more than slits, the vampire stood ready. Even from her distance, in the glance of light from the moon, Victoria could see the smirk of readiness, the indolent stance that said he was ready for a fight.
When Max came within two arms' breadth, the Imperial lifted his sword. Yes, he had brutal strength that matched Max's, but to fight a Venator, who carried a pike of wood that held death, Lilith took no chances. She armed her vampires with metal pikes, swords. Thus they were evenly matched. Wood to metal. Holy strength to inhuman might.
Victoria understood Max's plan, and though her heart picked up speed as she saw the two tall, broad figures face each other, she waited. The Imperial would have scented their presence; by Max announcing himself and approaching the vampire, it was obvious he hoped Victoria would remain unnoticed.
Metal glinted in the light, and Victoria saw that they were engaged, fighting for life. Or undeath.
She'd been wrong. They were not evenly matched.
Max had the disadvantage. The skin of her palms dampened. While his weapon would kill only if he got a clear slice through the chest, the sword wielded by the Imperial was lethal in any manner.
And if he drew blood, its smell would attract the other Imperials and Guardians from inside Redfield Manor… and any that lurked on the streets.
They moved as if choreographed, seeming to leap and almost glide through the air at times, blocking and thrusting, each with their staff of death, spinning, leaping, banking off a nearby tree one time; gliding up the side of the house and down another time. Almost as if they were puppets on strings, lifting into the air and careening back toward each other in lethal ballet movements.
She watched, amazed, as Max seemed to skim and glide on the air in the graceful movements of an art form she had not yet learned. She kept her eyes trained on them, praying she would know when to step from the shadows and come to his aid. Praying she would be quick enough.
And then the constant ice at the back of her neck changed, pulling her attention from the battle. She felt something behind her and turned just in time, her stake at waist height. With a quick thrust she jabbed it up and into the chest of the very ordinary vampire who'd had the foolishness to come up behind a tense Venator, a woman who he'd thought would be easy pickings.
That would be his last street hunt.
