recently vacated, the force of his uncontrolled weight shoving it against the wall.
Max looked up, fixing his dark eyes on her in one last look of loathing before he slumped into unconsciousness.
Sixteen:
The night still hoarded some of the sun’s warmth, eliminating the need for a shawl or wrap. The moon was a bit more slender than the night before, when Victoria had stood on the empty street and faced Bemis Goodwin, but the stars were twinkling in a great wide swath overhead and helped to light the inky blue sky.
James sat next to her in the curricle, holding the lines and bumping his solid arm against hers every time he moved. The open-faced, two-seater vehicle rumbled along the deserted pathways of Regent’s Park, the awkward, random shapes of bush and shrubbery adding to a slightly eerie feel. The faint essence of wood smoke sifted through the air.
Victoria couldn’t get Max out of her mind. Taking a deep breath, she looked up obediently when her companion commented on the array of celestial bodies, but her thoughts churned like the swill at the bottom of a fishing boat.
He would never understand, never forgive her. She knew that. But, more than that, she feared what could happen if he followed her tonight. It had been worth taking the chance, knowing she wouldn’t have to worry about his safety.
“Oho, and here they are,” crowed James in delight. “Over here!”
Forced from her unpleasant thoughts, Victoria looked up and redirected her mind to the matter at hand. She had not come on this little excursion without preparation and planning. In fact, as she peered in the dark toward the sprightly vehicle that presumably carried Sara and George, she was actually looking beyond it. If all had gone as expected, Sebastian and Kritanu would be there, somewhere in the darkness, having been delivered by Barth and his hackney. They would be watching and waiting, ready to help quell any problems that might arise.
As Sara and George moved closer in their vehicular conveyance, Victoria became aware of the telltale chill on the back of her neck. Complacence and anticipation settled over her. She’d been right to suspect something.
“Good evening, Lord Rockley… and Lady Rockley.” George’s voice held faint amusement, presumably at the linking of their names.
Behind the other carriage, Victoria saw shadows moving. The corresponding barometer at her nape indicated a fair number of undead in the vicinity. She tensed beneath her skin, careful not to indicate her reaction to James. If he were a daytime vampire, he didn’t need to drink the elixir at night-unless he wanted to keep her unaware of his condition until now. Which would make sense.
Or, just as likely, he and she were both planned victims.
But now that other vampires had arrived, obviously without masking their undeadness to her sensitivities, why was nothing happening? Sara and George-and whoever else-certainly would know she was aware of the presence of vampires. Unease prickled over her.
Just then, a third carriage moved into view from behind the one carrying George and Sara. Victoria heard a familiar laugh… one that sent horrible shivers down her spine. What was Gwendolyn doing here?
Indeed, the tableau played out with all of the societal niceties one might have expected, if one were unaware that at least some of those present had a propensity for drinking blood.
“I must apologize for our tardiness, but my darling sister and her betrothed insisted upon joining us for tonight’s excursion,” explained George, maneuvering his carriage so that the third one could pull forward.
“Victoria!” Gwendolyn cried, lurching forward in her vehicle to wave. The moonlight slivered over her blond hair and outlined round cheeks curved in a delighted smile. “Is this not the most delightful thing? A ride in the park at night?”
“It is most delightful,” Victoria replied, managing to keep the trepidation from her voice. George had sent his sister safely away from the fire two nights ago; why had he allowed her to come tonight?
“It was a last-minute decision,” Gwendolyn said, as if knowing explanations were in order. “I do hope you don’t feel that Brodebaugh and I are intruding. George didn’t think I should be out in the cool night air, but I convinced Brodebaugh that it was no worse than sitting in the dinner room with the windows open. And George and Sara simply couldn’t be out without a chaperone.” Gwen couldn’t seem to stop smiling. In fact, she fairly glowed with happiness as she leaned companionably against her fiancй, who looked down at her with his own indulgent smile.
“Indeed,” Victoria replied faintly. She was still waiting for something to happen… although what, she wasn’t certain.
“So where is this comet you wanted to show us?” James said, his voice booming.
Instead of looking up, as the others automatically did, Victoria scanned the darkness. The small glowing eyes, floating like red lightning bugs in the depths of brush and shrubbery, watched them expectantly. One of her stakes was wedged beneath her thigh, inside the hidden pocket Verbena had sewn into her gown. She shifted to adjust it, and to make it more easily retrievable. Her fingers itched to close around the small wooden pike and slam it into the variety of hearts surrounding them.
Prudence held her back; prudence and discretion. Not until she had to. Gwendolyn and her earl didn’t need to be frightened, or exposed to the violence that would occur.
But though she waited, nothing untoward happened. The drive through the park went on as though it were nothing other than what it had been put out to be: an opportunity for several young couples to have a romantic interlude.
It wasn’t until nearly a half hour later, after George had pointed out simply every constellation and planet known to man-along with the Comet Encke, as it had been named-that the air changed.
She sensed an expectation building, a feeling of anticipation. Victoria remained alert, but other than the insistent chill on her neck and the sense of waiting, she felt and saw nothing.
She needed to do something to get Gwendolyn and her earl away before whatever was going to happen happened.
They were trotting along the easy, curving path lit by the moon’s skirt. The odd lumps of dirt and out-of- place boulders, groupings of trees and brush, and piles of paving stones that bespoke John Nash’s ongoing redesign of the park reared up in the dark, sending awkward shadows over the road.
The three carriages were moving along at a good clip, not quite in a single file, but staggered across the path. George and Sara were in the lead, Victoria and James slightly to the left behind them, and Gwendolyn and Brodebaugh in the rear directly behind her brother, almost next to Victoria.
She turned in her seat to call back to Gwendolyn, planning to make an excuse-a headache, weariness, something-so that her friend would accompany her home.
But before she could even hail her friend, there was a great lurch and all at once, everything was falling. The horses shrieked and James shouted, and Victoria felt everything tipping as if in slow motion. Then, as she hit her head, a moment of darkness and pain.
When she opened her eyes, only seconds later, she heard Gwendolyn screaming. James was heavy atop her and everything was dark and awkward. It took her only an instant to realize that somehow the carriage had tipped or fallen, and that she was trapped beneath James. The vehicle was half on its side so that everything concentrated on her corner of the conveyance.
She had the wherewithal to grip her stake, and even though she felt discomfort from the fall, Victoria wasn’t injured. But she was fully aware that this could not have been an accident.
And when she heard the screams growing louder, and saw the flash of red eyes glowering into the curricle above her, she knew she was right.
Victoria shoved at James, pushing his weight from hers. He seemed to be unconscious, and his legs were caught under the ledge of the carriage, making it difficult to move him. The awkward pose had fairly trapped her in the corner of the seat. The horses were still squealing, and the carriage lurched and lunged in its place as they
