“My slippers,” shrieked Nilly, lifting her feet one at a time in a mad, hopping manner. “They’ll be ruined!”
“Come, come,” Mr. Zavier said, ushering them along the dark building toward the front of the villa where their carriage was waiting.
As the ladies climbed in, their creaking joints reminding them they’d had hardly a spot of rest in the last week, with Carnivale and all of the other excitement, they noticed that theirs was the only carriage in sight. Mr. Zavier handed each of them in and then followed with an energetic leap, slamming the door shut behind him.
Rapping harshly on the roof, he settled back into his seat, surrounded by gowns and panting ladies. Not, perhaps, his preferred environment to be surrounded by such feminity…but it was his duty, nonetheless.
It wasn’t until the carriage pulled away from the street in front of the villa that the ladies realized the blond gentleman had disappeared.
In fact, none of them could recall seeing him once they came outside of the villa.
“Well, I never,” snapped Winnie, looking back out the carriage window. “That man! He tricked us into leaving so he could have the treasure.”
And she settled into her seat, plump elbows crossed over her just-as-plump bosom, and brooded all the way back to the Gardella villa.
Ten
Victoria slowly came to consciousness, aware that her entire body ached.
The last thing she remembered was seeing Max collapse under a cluster of vampires; then something struck her from behind and her world went dark.
Now…she had no idea how long she’d been lying here…wherever she was. She couldn’t see anything; it was pitch-black. Even after she blinked her eyes numerous times to adjust them to the night, she could make out little but vague shadows.
She couldn’t move. Her wrists were tied tightly behind her, and when she uncurled her fists the pads of her fingers pressed into something that felt like dirty stone or brick behind her. She felt the same underneath, suggesting she was in a chamber belowground. A dungeon, perhaps.
That in itself didn’t bode well.
Then there was the fact that the back of her neck was cold. Freezing, in fact; the prickles there felt as if a cold wind were blasting over her skin. Her hair sagged, falling over her shoulders, but provided no protection from that barometer of the undead. Her gown was disheveled, and she was quite certain that at least several rosettes and perhaps some of the flounces had been torn from its hem.
But that was the least of her concerns, for…She paused, forcing her racing thoughts to slow so she could concentrate. She closed her eyes, even though she couldn’t see anything, and listened.
No. No, she hadn’t imagined it.
Apprehension crept up her spine, spreading over the back of her shoulders. The smell was faint, but it was there: that musty, rotting, malevolent death-smell of a demon.
Demons and vampires? Here together?
They were mortal enemies—at least, they would be if either of them were mortal. The battle for Lucifer’s favor had raged between the vampires and demons since he’d turned Judas into the first vampire.
Demons were, of course, fallen angels—of which Lucifer was the greatest of all. They had been purveyors of evil and death since time dawned. But after Judas hanged himself, certain that he would never be forgiven for betraying Jesus, Lucifer had wooed him and his soul to the side of Hell and used him to create a new race that was half demon and half human.
Being the devil’s own creation, the vampires felt they should take precedence over the demons; but the demons had existed for so much longer, they believed their race was the more powerful and should inherit the reign of Hell.
Either way, Victoria knew, it was very rare for the two races to be together, or to cooperate in any way.
Then she remembered her mother, and her apprehension exploded into full-force terror. Lady Melly and her two friends could still be in the villa, under the control of the vampires and the demons. Zavier could not have fought off all of the undead that had attacked her and Max. Her only hope was that he’d sensed the presence of the vampires in time to bring the ladies—and the other guests—to safety.
Or…a new thought alleviated her anxiety a bit. If Regalado was after the key, perhaps he meant to use her mother only as a hostage or bait. In which case she wouldn’t be harmed.
She hoped.
“Max?” she said softly. She thought she’d heard a faint shuffling sound, perhaps even a groan. It was either Max or some other creature—either of which was preferable to other options, such as the undead…or those of the eight-legged persuasion.
There was silence, and Victoria closed her eyes again and listened this time for something closer to her. She was sure she heard something, sensed some other presence.
One thing was certain: If Max was indeed here, he must be badly hurt if he made no sound. This greater worry galvanized her into action.
Her legs weren’t tied, so she used her splayed hands on the floor behind to help shift herself from the ground and move onto her knees. Her head began to pound angrily above her brows as she came upright, and there was something wrong with her right leg…it was stiff and it ached. Horrendously.
Victoria tried to follow the wall so she could keep her bearings in the chamber and investigate every part of the room.
Suddenly she heard voices, and the cold prickles at the back of her neck increased. Before she could think of anything to do that might be proactive, a door opened across the room from her. Immediately Victoria sagged against the wall, half closing her eyes, pretending to be unconscious. Even a moment’s reprieve could help her make a decision or gather more information that would help her escape.
With the opening of the door a bit of light spilled into the room. Shadows blocked the entrance, and the rotting death-smell of the demon became a bit stronger—but not enough to alarm her. Whoever or wherever it was, it was not standing in the doorway.
Through her slitted eyes, Victoria saw that the chamber was not much larger than a parlor, and it was fairly empty. There was a large, lumpy shadow halfway across the room that spiked her concern for Max; if she’d kept going on her path around the perimeter, she would have brushed against it at one point. There were no furnishings, one door, and nothing else.
All of this she had taken in during the instant after the door opened. Now Victoria waited, her muscles tense, forcing her breathing to steady.
And suddenly something large and unwieldy came tumbling into the room. It landed on the floor in the middle of the chamber in an ignominious heap, barely illuminated by a small lantern hanging beyond the door.
“Do not fear,” said a voice from the entrance. It sounded familiar, but Victoria couldn’t see enough to recognize the speaker. “You won’t be here long. Akvan will soon be ready for you.”
Akvan? Good grief…was that the demon she smelled?
Before Victoria could react, the door closed. She heard the heavy grating of a bolt being drawn.
“Ouch,” grumbled the heap on the floor. “Wasn’t beating me enough? Why did they have to pitch me in like a horseshoe?”
Victoria’s mouth fell open; fortunately, it was too dark for him to see what must be incredulous shock on her face. “Sebastian? Is that you?”
“In the flesh. Or, rather, what’s bloody left of me.”
“How on earth did you get here?”
