opera theater.
She crawled around the perimeter, bumping into something that she recognized belatedly as a cot or large chair, and determined that two of the walls were stone and the other two wood, one of them with a door.
No sooner had she reached up to blindly locate the door handle and jiggle it in vain, than she heard what sounded like descending footsteps over her head, and she realized she was in a cubby under a staircase.
She didn't have time to wonder whether the steps portended someone coming for her, for moments after they reached the bottom of the stairs, a cast of light glowed from underneath the door; then something jolted it, making a soft thump. And then the door opened.
Max slipped in and shut it behind him.
'You!' Weak though she was, Victoria launched herself at his feet, pulling up using his body and the wall for balance, the fury she'd held in check at his audacity in seeking her out bursting forth, giving her a wave of strength.
He held the lantern well away from himself, as though expecting her attack, and he let her land a few ineffective blows to his chest and face before snatching one of her arms in midair. 'That's enough, and for God's sake, keep quiet,' he said, and bent to put the lantern down. 'You're wasting time and energy.' He grabbed her other wrist when she would have flailed it at him, knocking one of her kicking feet out from under her so that she lost her balance and remained upright only because he had her wrists in hand.
'How long have you been Tutela?' she hissed. 'You are a traitor and a murderer.'
His face was expressionless. 'You heard Nedas. I was Tutela before I was a Venator.'
'Will you murder me now?' she asked, ignoring the black spots that danced before her eyes and the way her body throbbed in pain. Weakness and fear shivered through her, but she would not allow him to see it. Her muscles trembled and she had to work to form the words. 'What reward will Nedas give you for killing another Venator?'
He gave her a little shake that bobbled her head; then as if to collect himself, thrust her from him and stood away, looking down at her as she stumbled back onto the cot. 'I have exactly ten minutes to get you the hell out of here, or you will find yourself in a much less appetizing situation than your aunt. For Christ's sake, you can't even stand, can you?'
This last comment was provoked by her attempt to do just that, pulling herself off the thin cot and using her hand to hold herself upright. He reached for her, and she twisted away, tipping back onto the floor in an ignominious heap. 'Don't touch me.'
He ignored her and unceremoniously yanked her to her feet, pushing her toward the cot. 'Victoria, you have to get out of here. There is no time to play the woman scorned.'
'After I kill you, and Nedas too, I'll be happy to leave this place.'
'Despite the fact that you can't even stand, let alone kill anyone, you can't slay Nedas. Not now,' he told her sharply. 'There will be another time, but not now.' Long fingers were unbuttoning his white shirt, and Victoria gawked, trying to focus around the black dots that obscured her vision.
'What are you doing?'
'He's already begun to activate the obelisk; he cannot be stopped. You will be needed afterward, Victoria. Think about that and not your need for vengeance, for it will soon be moot.' He moved toward her, and she shrank back from his tall, looming figure. She'd never been afraid of Max, but something in his expression, the determined, settled line of his mouth and the angry black eyes, made her want to scoot away.
But she was a Venator. Damn it, even without her
She didn't know what she'd expected when he sat next to her on the cot, but it wasn't for him to take her wrist and force her hand toward him. He moved her reluctant fingers under his unbuttoned shirt, palm open, sliding over warm skin, soft hair, and then brushing against his nipple, and something hard. Metal. He pushed her hand flush against it.
An instant before she realized it was his vu
And as her pain and confusion disappeared, Victoria became aware of the fact that her hand was splayed over Max's bare skin. She felt the brush of his linen shirt over the back of her wrist with the rhythm of his breathing, felt the steady, strong pounding of his heart under her palm and the strength of his fingers around her hand. He was warm and solid, and a brief peek at the opening of his shirt told her there was a lot of black hair on his chest.
Another glance at his face told her he was unmoved: His eyes were closed, his mouth still settled and firm. She wondered if the flow of energy she felt weakened him at all. She looked up again and his jaw shifted, once, twice, and as if he knew she was watching, he opened his eyes. She looked away, suddenly conscious of their positions on the cot, him half turned toward her, his knee brushing hers, his strong fingers wrapped around her wrist. Her hand on his flesh suddenly felt as if it were burning. Her throat was dry.
'Feel better?' he asked, not solicitously, not as if he cared, but as if he couldn't wait to be away from her.
'Strong enough to fight you now.' She pulled her hand away and immediately felt the loss of the energy.
He raised an eyebrow, looking at her as he fastened his shirt. 'Stand up.'
She stood; she managed that. Even without the power from his
'When you leave this room, go to the right. Three doors down the long passage you will find stairs leading back to the main floor of what's left of the theater.' He produced a stake and a gun and tossed them on the cot. 'Take these and get out of here. I have to get back before I'm missed, and I trust, God knows why, that you will go now that I've given you the chance. Again.'
'I hate you, Max. You must know that.' Victoria picked up the gun, cocked it, and pointed it at his chest. She'd become much more familiar with firearms since she'd been forced to use one in her escape from Lilith last year. 'I would do nothing to benefit you.' The gun was heavy, but she didn't allow it to shake in her grip. Moments ago she would have fired without hesitation.
'It no longer matters what you think of me,' he replied. Weariness and impatience laced his voice. 'Go, now, Victoria. Killing me now will benefit no one. And if you pull that trigger, they'll all be down here faster than you would imagine.' A mocking grin flashed. 'Why do you think I gave you a gun and not a knife?'
'Why did you do it?' To her horror, her eyes began to sting.
'It was either her, or you.' Max turned and strode out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft thunk.
Brushing away the surprised tears, she snatched up the stake and started after him, hearing his footsteps above her once more, but the door wouldn't open. She pulled again, and it came loose, opening into a dark hallway. Max had left the lantern, so Victoria grabbed it up from the floor and started out.
She didn't go right, as he'd directed. She went up the stairs in his wake, shadowing the lantern as much as she could, listening for his footsteps to follow them. She would remain out of sight, safe… but she had to see what was happening. She had to find out if what Max said was true. And… there might be something she could do.
She couldn't leave.
A soft creak in the distance sent her along a passage at the top of the stairs. She didn't need the lantern any longer; it was not the pitch-black of the room she'd left, but shadowy, and her eyes were becoming accustomed to the shapes and shades of gray, so she blew out the lantern and left it. She passed a door that hung ajar, and a quick peek as she went by showed racks of clothing, probably costumes, hanging inside. The scent of smoke permeated the area as she rushed along on silent feet, trying to catch up to Max.
After a time, she realized she'd lost him. Everything was silent and still.
Frustrated and feeling weak again, Victoria retraced her steps, taking more time to explore the area. She was definitely in the lower level of the theater, obviously used for storage. Costumes, props, chairs, instruments, music… the rooms were neatly ordered with all of these items.
