When Twilight Burns

Victoria. She ate daintily, and even when she smiled a knowing, horrible smile, her teeth gleamed pure white.

“You fight it even now,” Lilith said to Victoria, then waved her hand in dismissal. Her vampire minion dragged away the unconscious girl, and the second one moved forward into her place. As before, the servant held his mistress’s meal steady while she fed. This time, Victoria couldn’t tear her eyes away from the long, slender teeth sliding into the whimpering girl’s neck.

She hardly felt the stake in her hand any longer; all of her attention and focus were gathered up in a net of bloodscent and need. Blood racing, bounding through her… her vision blossoming red… her fingers trembling as she curled them around the edges of her chair. Only that death-tight grip kept her in her seat.

Lilith finished eating, and the unfortunate girls were taken away. Now the vampire queen looked at her remaining captive with relish. “Perhaps I should taste you again, my dear. I see that the bloodscent has set your own veins to singing… it could certainly help the process along. And I do like the taste of a Venator… even if it is swamped with Beauregard’s blood.”

Victoria tried to fight them off, even brandishing her stake. But it was knocked from her fingers, clattering hollowly to the floor and rolling quietly away as the two Guardians dragged her to stand once more in front of their mistress.

“Think about how much easier it will be when you give in,” Lilith sighed like a lover against Victoria’s cheek.

She strained to break free, but her vision was still colored and the scent of blood and roses from the queen’s mouth beckoned and teased.

“Think of how much easier when you have only to think of yourself. Only to do what is right for you.”

This time, she bit into the top of Victoria’s shoulder, at the juncture of neck and collarbone. It was painful, but pleasure seeped into her almost immediately. Liquid, hot, coursing pleasure… the delicate touch of lip to flesh… the brush of skeletal hands over her hair…

Victoria felt dizzy, the words of Lilith piling into her mind, crushing reality, destroying her conscience… she felt her body weakening, the bloodscent filling her awareness… and the release of pressure against her skin.

The last thing she knew was a pair of blood-soaked lips covering hers… and then she tipped into a hot, red oblivion.

When she awoke, Victoria found herself sprawled once again on the floor. She dragged herself up, her head light, but, blessedly, her vision had cleared of all but the faintest pink tinge.

Slowly, she climbed up onto her hands, then her knees, using the wall for support. As she became more upright, the room shimmered less, her head felt more stable, and her strength returned. The cloying smell of blood had faded to a bare essence, weak enough for her to ignore.

Turning slowly, she faced the chamber, expecting to see Lilith seated on her throne, watching with those laughing eyes.

But the throne was empty.

The room was empty but for a single Guardian vampire, who stood at the door. He looked at her, his eyes ruby pink, his fangs exposed in a lascivious smile.

Victoria scanned the chamber quickly, spotting her stake not far from the chair on which she’d been sitting. She pretended not to notice the vampire; her mind was working now, and she’d keep it straight and focused in order to make her escape.

Feigning a weakened state and staggering heavily, she made her way toward the forgotten stake, tumbling to the ground on top of it. The slender wood in her hand made her feel powerful again, and she waited, breathing long and deep like Kritanu had taught her… long and deep… long… deep.

She felt for the vis bullae that, so far, had brought her greater strength than anyone could expect. The cool silver, warmed on one side by her flesh, sent a wave of power radiating through her and Victoria knew she was ready. Keeping the stake hidden in the folds of her gown, she put her plan into action.

Pulling slowly to her feet again, as if in great pain, she staggered more, slowly, randomly, but deliberately toward the Guardian vampire. She saw through her lashes that he watched her, but with amusement rather than wariness.

All the more fool he.

When she drew near enough and nearly fell at his feet, sliding against the cold, rough wall next to him, he gave a short chuckle. He’d barely wheezed his breath back in when she surged to her feet, stake in hand.

He had enough time to raise his arm and open his mouth in surprise before the lethal weapon drove into his chest. The stake was a slender thing, but powerful enough to force through the heavy shirt he wore.

His ruby eyes froze wide before he shattered into ash and dust.

Victoria stealthily tried the door-who knew what or who was on the other side-but it didn’t move. She dared not try to force it, for there could be too many to fight on the other side-Lilith included.

Besides, she had another plan.

She rushed toward the throne, moving quickly for fear that someone would return before she was able to hide away. Quickly, she unbolted it from the floor and moved it out of the way to reveal the hidden door behind it-a door that she was certain Lilith knew nothing about… for she would have retrieved her copper ring if she had.

Unsure what lay behind the door, Victoria hoped she could at least hide there, giving the impression of an escape… and, perhaps if she were lucky, there would be another way out.

As she worked, Lilith’s taunts echoed in her mind… almost as if they were attempting to slow her movements and distract her mind.

You already feel the tug of consciencelessness. The seed of everything evil begins with self.

When one places oneself before every and all, evil spreads.

Already, you’ve done so, even when you knew it was wrong… have you not?

Involuntarily, as she climbed through the hidden door, Victoria thought of leaving Bemis Goodwin to the vampires -so that she could be free of the disruption he caused; of drugging Max-so that she didn’t need to worry over him or protect him; of early on in her visit to London, speaking with Gwendolyn in her private parlor, and the fury that bubbled deep inside… and how she didn’t care to listen or hear about her friend’s plans.

But… those events didn’t mean that she was turning evil. Did they?

Leaving Bemis Goodwin and his companion to die… perhaps. Incapacitating Max? Not evil, no… how could it be evil to protect someone else?

Even when she knew it would destroy him.

Because it would be easier for her.

Forcing those dark thoughts away, she huddled in the small space and looked out at the dislodged chair. She had to pull it back into place or her hideaway would be revealed immediately. Then her eyes fell on a metal rod near the door. It had a hook on the end, like a shepherd’s crook. In the narrow slit of light from the room, she also saw a piece of marble; it looked just like the top of the ornate bolt that fastened the throne to the floor. Only, there was no bolt. It would easily sit atop the claw-foot of the chair so that once she pulled it back into position, it would look as though it were bolted down.

Apparently this door had been used as a hiding place more than once, and the tools were there to assist. The fake bolt in its spot, Victoria squeezed back into the small doorway and used the metal rod to tug the chair back into place. As it moved, the door was forced closed until only a narrow opening was left-just enough to draw the hook back into the room.

Satisfied that the room would appear untouched, she closed the door and turned to feel her way around the pitch-black area. Working her way along the wall, she was forced to duck to keep from banging her head-a tactic she discovered after having scraped against rough stone above. She quickly discovered that the chamber was not a chamber, but a passageway.

And one that, from the faint brush of cool air, she believed would lead to freedom.