might be ready to bolt at any moment. 'Er…
Victoria sagged back, stifling her disappointment and budding annoyance. Was this simply a ploy to get her in a carriage alone?
If it were Sebastian, she would believe it without a doubt. But this man did not send ripples of apprehension through her. He seemed harmless and easily managed—except for the powerful weapon of his cologne. 'Where are we going if not to see a vampire?'
'We are to attend the meeting of a secret society, the Tutela, whose purpose is to protect and care for vampires. But I do not know if we shall be graced with the presence of the immortals.' That glitter she had seen in his eyes at Byron's villa was back, accompanied by a slight sheen on his rounded forehead. 'They do not attend every meeting at this level.'
'Level?' Victoria looked around; the carriage had stopped. 'Have we arrived?'
'No, no. We must cross a canal. Come,
They climbed out of the carriage and hustled quickly into a waiting gondola that dipped and pitched when he tried to find a comfortable seat. Victoria did not recognize the part of the city in which they had stopped, but she was not all that familiar with Venice as yet. As the gondolier eased them across the canal with his long pole, she glanced back at the shore they were leaving behind. Something in the shadows moved next to the carriage, and then it was gone.
She continued to stare as the gray outline of shore, lit only by random lanterns hung from poles and a smattering of stars in a moonless sky, melded into the darkness that now surrounded them on the wide canal. Someone or something had been there. Following them?
As they poled along the canal, away from either shore, Victoria could hear the excitement growing in Alvisi's breaths. They were coming faster and more shallowly, a bit raspier, often with a little catch, like a tiny gasp, at the end. The single lantern of punctured tin that hung from the back of the gondola gave enough light for her to see his hands clasped onto the sides of the vessel, and a shinier sheen on his forehead. Either he didn't like water and boats, or he was becoming very excited about the meeting of the Tutela.
They went on for a long while, traveling away from the city, silently moving atop the water. There had been a few other gondolas in the vicinity when they started out, but as the distance from town and their carriage increased, the number of other vessels decreased until there were none other about. Even the lights from homes along the canals, and the squares of buildings silhouetted against the shore, eased into darkness and the jaggedness of tumbledown structures and rocky terrain, illuminated only by chance when their gondola lantern swayed in a lucky direction.
Victoria began to feel a bit apprehensive as she realized they'd left Venice behind. This was so very different from London, where she at least had a sense of direction and knew where she was. And where a hackney could be hired to take her home from most any place in the city, even St. Giles. She realized she should have paid much better attention to where they were going in the carriage, and watched for landmarks along the canal.
She wasn't frightened, but she should have made better preparations. Having Oliver follow along might have been a prudent choice. Perhaps Kritanu as well.
But she had been so confident of her ability to take care of herself, with her
Of course, she could be worrying about nothing. But her uneasiness was beginning to grow as steadily as the moisture on Alvisi's forehead. He spoke little during the voyage, and Victoria, who was trying to watch for landmarks in order to remember their route, didn't attempt conversation.
And then, at last, after what must have been more than an hour of navigating along the dark canal, they arrived.
At least, that was what Victoria assumed when the gondola eased up to a dark shore.
'Come, come,' Alvisi said, his voice strained. He scrambled out of the boat and pulled her after him with none of the gentlemanly aplomb he'd served up earlier at her villa. Once on the rocky shore, Victoria pulled firmly away from his grip—no difficult task, and if he noticed her unusual strength, he made no comment. He was already hurrying along some pathway that she was hardly able to see. Looking back toward the water, she saw that the gondola and its small lantern had shoved away from the shore and it was easing back up along the canal.
She would have paused longer, to take measure of the darkness and its occupants, but Alvisi had come back for her. 'Mrs. Withers, come; we must hurry or they will bar the doors!'
This was what she'd come for.
She turned and followed him down the dark path, between bushes and trees that brushed into her and snagged at her light pelisse.
At last they came to a wooden door attached to a tall stone building closely surrounded by trees. It appeared that they'd approached it from the rear; there were no other buildings in sight, nor anything that hinted of civilization. It was a building alone in the dark woods. Victoria could see the outlines of the gray, black, and tan stones that made up the wall, thanks to the small lantern that hung from a short iron stem. It sat only knee-height, and was half-hidden by a bush until one came nearly upon it. Clearly, the Tutela took no chances in having its meeting place found.
Alvisi pulled on the long iron latch of the door and, to his obvious relief it swung open on silent hinges. A red glow from inside colored the sandy, trampled ground next to the low lantern outside, and tinged the door and stones with a warm hue.
With one quick glance up at the sky, which had cleared to show the moon, Victoria noted that it was approximately midnight already. She followed Alvisi in and, once inside, a tall man dressed as though he were ready to attend the opera closed the door behind her.
'Good evening, madam, and welcome,' he said in Italian. He seemed to be waiting for something, and then Victoria remembered. She opened her hand to show him the Tutela amulet, and he nodded admittance.
She followed Alvisi down the hall, confirming that, according to the back of her neck, there were no vampires in the vicinity.
The half-lit room they entered at the end of the hall contained several dozen people conversing, and was large enough in size to be a ballroom, but not appropriate in decor. Victoria hadn't been able to determine what kind of building they were in, but it did not appear to be a villa or home. The interior walls were the same stone as the exterior. There were no windows—not surprising, as the vampires wouldn't be receptive to having sunlight come flooding in—and as far as she could tell, only one other door. The floor was covered with rugs, and between them, she could see the primitive dirt and stone.
There were, however, chairs and benches throughout the room. And at the far end from where she and Alvisi had entered, a small, high dais had been positioned. It was just large enough to hold a long table and five chairs. It reminded her of a theater, or perhaps a church… although that would be an odd place for vampire protectors to meet.
Curious, Victoria slipped away from her escort and toward the front of the room, for she was too far away to see what was on the table other than two large, shallow bowls that held small fires, one on each end.
The room's red glow came from a roaring fire on one wall near the dais, in a fireplace that could easily hold eight grown men. Candles and sconces flickered throughout the room, and as she passed among the other attendees, Victoria noted that the vast majority were men of all ages and that they were as well dressed as the man who'd asked to see her amulet.
In fact, she saw only three other women, and they did not appear to be ones who would normally be accepted in high society, based on the ludicrously low-cut gowns and pretentious jewels they wore. Perhaps she should speak with them. Since that was the kind of thing that would make her mother's eyes roll up into her head just before she swooned, it would be a fitting action for Mrs. Withers to undertake.
The room smelled of smoke and sweat, along with the horrid mingle of Alvisi's lavender, and the rosewaters, minty perfumes, and vetiver colognes that clung to other persons. But underlying all of the sweet floral and musky herbal scents, Victoria smelled blood and darkness and evil, and a faint pungent smell she'd sensed only once before: at the Silver Chalice.
