Perhaps you are meant to be present for it all.'
'Nedas is going to activate Akvan's Obelisk, and I am going to do my best to stop him. What do you expect to happen?'
'I'm not precisely certain, but I fear it is nothing I would choose to witness. Anything Nedas is involved with can only be repulsive.'
'Do you know where to go, or would that be too much of an advantage to me?'
He smiled at her; but there was a lack of his old spirit. 'I know of something better. A place where you can watch unnoticed.'
Victoria thought of her bow and the wooden arrows. Unnoticed meant she might truly have the opportunity she needed. 'Then let's be off.'
As they started, she added, 'Thank you, Sebastian.'
He shook his head. 'Save your gratitude, for you may well regret it later.'
Victoria could hear voices as she crouched and followed Sebastian through a low, narrow opening. When she emerged, she found herself looking through a tiny aperture high in the shadows above a stage.
It was not the stage on which the opera she'd watched two nights ago had been performed; there were no box seats nor velvet-covered chairs arranged in rows in a half circle around it. The decor was not gilt and marble, but raw, rough wood and cracked plaster. A small square window studded one wall, near the ceiling just above her head, which, Victoria noticed, was made of open beams and covered with cobwebs.
'Where are we?' she breathed into Sebastian's ear.
'Second rehearsal stage, below the theater,' he replied just as softly.
She looked back down to watch the people—mostly men, and many of them vampires—move about. They seemed to be congregating in a central area near the stage. The cold on the back of her neck had not relented; her skin there was so frigid it burned.
Victoria leaned toward Sebastian again and was just about to speak when he closed his fingers over her arm and pointed down. As he did, something changed in the air; it felt thick and expectant and metallic with evil.
A man was approaching the stage, and the others, Tutela and vampires alike, parted ways for him to pass through. She couldn't get a perfect look at him, but she absorbed the image of shiny black hair, worn short and close to the scalp, and his dark olive skin, much darker than an Italian's, and thick brows. It was hard to tell, but she thought he might be perhaps a few years older than she, in his middle twenties. His lips were thin and pinched, and the whites of his eyes were so white they nearly gleamed.
He looked nothing like his mother, whose skin was nearly translucent it was so pale, and her hair like coils of polished copper and ruby, it was so bright red.
She knew he must be Nedas, the son of Lilith, for no other creature would command such immediate and complete attention from the others. And Victoria felt the evil so strongly, she wanted to brush it off, wipe it away.
She'd been so intent on examining Nedas that at first she completely missed him. But then, as three other men joined Nedas on the stage and stood there in the blush of light coming from a myriad of candled sconces, she recognized Max.
It didn't surprise her. No, surprise was not what she felt when she saw him, his confident, easy figure towering over Nedas and the others next to him. She must have moved or caught her breath, for Sebastian touched her arm as if to comfort her.
Comfort. The last thing she needed—or wanted—was comfort.
She ignored Sebastian and watched Max's harsh, handsome face as it softened into a laugh at something Nedas said, tipping up toward the ceiling, exposing his throat as he basked in hilarity for a moment.
Victoria couldn't imagine for an instant what the evil creature could have said that was so funny.
She had to push away the maelstrom of feelings and urges clashing through her and focus on her opportunity. Bless Sebastian; he'd provided her with the perfect location from which to launch her assassination attempt. They were so high up and tucked into the shadows that even Max's sharp eyes wouldn't spot them unless he knew exactly where to look.
The thought crossed her mind, briefly but severely, that it was possible he might. That he and Sebastian had planned this together, knowing that she would do what she wanted to do, and so faked a kidnapping so that she could think they didn't want her there… when in fact, it was all an elaborate ruse to get her here, at this place, at this time. Max was certainly smart enough to do such a thing, and he knew her well.
Wasn't that why George hadn't been surprised at all to see her? He'd thought Max would bring her himself, but it was just as well that she'd arrived alone.
Victoria tensed. Her stomach churned with doubt in spite of herself. No. If Max had wanted harm to come to her, he would not have helped her to escape the theater only two nights ago.
That train of thought gave rise to another, and she began to search the small crowd of vampires for the Imperial she'd met at Claythorne. She didn't see him, but she did recognize Regalado, and to her surprise noticed that his eyes were glowing red. He had been turned.
Victoria noticed his daughter, Sara, who remained unobtrusively in a corner with a hood half-drawn over her head and her eyes hidden, along with another hooded companion next to her. The only reason Victoria recognized Sara was that she'd tipped her face up for a moment to speak to Max, who stood on the stage.
At that point, Victoria realized the meeting, or whatever one would call it, had been called to order and that Nedas was talking. She also noticed that there was nothing in the vicinity that could be construed as being Akvan's Obelisk. She didn't really know what it looked like, but Wayren had given her the impression that it was a large obsidian object, certainly nothing that could easily be secreted in a pocket or under a cloak.
If they were here to activate Akvan's Obelisk, where was it? Was it possible they'd been wrong about everything? Had he already done so?
'Tonight we welcome one of our own back to the fold. A Venator, who has proven his desire to return to us despite my suspicions to the contrary,' Nedas was saying. His voice, for all his power, was not so loud… yet it seemed to permeate every corner and cranny of the chamber, insidious as the evil that hung in its tones. Victoria found that she did not have to strain to hear any of his words. 'He has but one more task to prove his loyalty, and then he will take his place at my side. The addition of this Venator into my most secret ranks will be instrumental to our success, particularly with the power I will obtain tonight from Akvan's Obelisk.'
He turned to Max, who now stood alone with him on the stage, and continued. 'Despite the fact that you were once a Tutela member long ago, you turned away from our society and became our enemy, striking at us without regard, making a legend of yourself. When you came to me many months ago and indicated your desire to rejoin our ranks, I would have killed you on the spot.' His thin lips stretched in a malicious smile. 'But when I saw that you bore the mark of my dear mother, and that she had claimed you for her own, and learned that she had sent you to us, I realized what an opportunity we had.
'A Tutela turned Venator turned Tutela. At last you have come home.'
Max stepped forward, gave a brief bow to Nedas, and said in an oily voice that Victoria barely recognized as his, 'Great One, I am gratified that you have taken me in and allowed me to prove my loyalty. The tasks you have set forth have not been simple or easy; in fact, I am aware that no one else in your ranks has been called to do what I have done. I realize it is penance for my disloyalty to the Tutela in joining the Venators all those years, and that it is only because of the wishes of your esteemed mother, Her Majesty, Queen Lilith, that I have been given the opportunity to rejoin your society. It is my hope that tonight this last task will remove any doubt from your mind that I am wholly and completely Tutela.'
Victoria watched, her emotions moving from horror to disbelief to hope. Surely, surely, this was all playacting—at least on Max's part. He didn't even sound like himself, even as he had been only days ago when they spoke.
But could Lilith really have sent him?
Her fingers were tight; all thoughts of the bow and wooden arrows had fled. A horrified fascination gripped her as she watched the tableau below. Her heart jolted rhythmically in her chest, and her throat was so dry that when she tried to swallow, it creaked.
