That was her opportunity. Victoria moved, quick as a flash, bending then rising up with a great twisting force to slam her head into his chin and her elbow into his abdomen.The great, loud snap of his teeth coming together, followed by the whoosh of air from his lungs, were the only noises before he tumbled to the ground like a bag of stones: heathen hips.

Victoria pocketed the pistol he'd dropped, then set about tying him up. She bound him tightly; then, instead of leaving him on the floor in the room, where he might make noise and draw attention to himself, thus alerting the vampires to her presence, she slung his inert body over her shoulder and quickly made her way back down the narrow pa.s.sageway and out the door. She dumped him unceremoniously in the bushes next to the small door by the hillock, hidden from view on all sides, and safely outside of the theater.

He would not gain consciousness in the near future; and if someone found him ahead of time, they would make no connection to her being in the opera theater.

George safely incapacitated, she hurried back inside to the room where she'd left her cloak and bow, knowing that it was past four o'clock and the time was drawing near. The sun would set in two hours.

The only clue she had to where she must go had been George's statement regarding going "down below." But which direction and where and how... she had no better idea than she had when she first arrived.

The creak of the door through which she'd just come, from the outside, snagged her attention, and Victoria peered out from behind the cracked door into the pa.s.sageway.

A tall, golden-haired man walked casually down the hall toward her. Sebastian.

At last... the opportunity to take a page from his book and appear when he didn't expect it. Victoria stepped out of the room in front of him. "Why, Sebastian, I thought you'd still be searching the streets of Rome for me."

"I regret to inform you, my dear, that if you antic.i.p.ated sending my heart into fast paces by jumping out in front of me, you sadly mistake my skill. I saw you moments ago, when you brought your... parcel... outside the theater and left it in the bushes.

Incidentally, I sent the erstwhile Mr. Starca.s.set off with my coachman in an effort to keep his interference to a minimum. After that, it was rather convenient to find you so easily."

Blast! Would she never get one up on him?

"I hope you aren't here to stop me. You know how it ended last time you attempted it."

He looked at her steadily, and she was surprised to see acceptance in his gaze. "It is against my better judgment, but I will not attempt to stop you. I will, however, accompany you, if you are certain you wish to do this. 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 grat.i.tude, 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 pa.s.s 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.

Focus.

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 a.s.sa.s.sination 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 un.o.btrusively 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.Max, what are you doing?

A laugh came from below, from Nedas and Max, from some jest shared only between the two of them. And then Nedas, stepping away from the taller man, announced, "It is time! Where is that female Venator of whom you are so fond?"

Victoria's body turned to ice, and her heart stopped beating for a full breath. Her stomach dropped and pitched nauseatingly, and though she knew she shouldn't move, shouldn't attract attention to her location, she turned to look at Sebastian, fury jetting through her. He was staring down at the scene below just as she had been. Fingers closing around the wooden arrow, she looked at him, ready to drive the wood into his human heart in reparation for this last trick of his.

But then she didn't, for there was activity below. It was not directed up where she was hiding; they were not storming the room and dashing about in search of her.

No. For instead a small, slight figure in black had been shoved forward; she'd been standing next to Sara, there in the back of the room, both of them in matching black cloaks with hoods. Now that she came forward into the light, Victoria recognized her immediately.

Aunt Eustacia.

The female Venator they were expecting wasn't Victoria, but her aunt.

She swallowed the gasp of surprise and stared down. Her aunt shook off the hands that had been manhandling her toward the stage, and walked proudly toward it. She moved through the small cl.u.s.ter of vampires and Tutela. Up three steps, onto the stage.

Victoria could hardly breathe; she dared not blink.

Her aunt stood proudly, and as tall as her stature would allow. Her dark hair was pulled into its simple bun at the back of her head, not the ornate dressing she'd worn to the Consilium. The cloak fell away, revealing a black gown, and Victoria saw that her aunt's hands seemed to be bound behind her.

"Nedas. At last we meet," said Aunt Eustacia in a calm voice that carried to every corner of the room.

"At last. Unfortunately, the moment will be altogether too brief." His smile was completely humorless.

"Any moment in your presence is too long for my taste. I pray daily for your demise, and that of your race."

"How unfortunate for you that my desires will be answered long before yours will."

Victoria watched, waiting, her breathing finally coming in short, shallow puffs. What should she do? Could she interfere in whatever was about to occur?

She looked at Max. His face was blank and more unreadable than ever. He stood square, tall and foreboding, facing Aunt Eustacia and Nedas.

Max had a plan. Of course he did, and Aunt Eustacia was part of it. If Victoria did anything to interfere, she might ruin it.

Still... She eased back from the opening through which she looked and slid the bow from her shoulder, holding it in her lap.

Her fingers were cramped and would hardly move; her palms hurt where her nails had dug in.

"Now, Maximilian Pesaro, you have been charged to prove your ultimate loyalty to the Tutela by bringing us one of your own.

You will seal your fate and become one with the Tutela by completing this one last task." Nedas produced a long, gleaming blade.Even from where she sat, Victoria could see how heavy and sharp it must be. Her heart was pounding faster now, and something nasty bubbled up in the back of her throat.

Max took the sword, gave it a practice swing that whistled through the air, and nodded to Nedas as he tested the blade over his thumb. Victoria saw the thin red stripe of blood appear after the quick slice in his flesh.

As the next events unfolded, Victoria watched, frozen, waiting. Readying herself to a.s.sist Max and her aunt when they needed it.

Nedas stepped away, his dark eyes hooded and focused on Max and Aunt Eustacia. "Execute the woman."

Max turned to his mentor. She stood tall, barely reaching his shoulders as she faced him, arms locked behind her back, calm.

Victoria could see the steady rise and fall of her chest. Tension hung in the air.

Max gripped the sword, adjusted it in his palm, holding it with two hands as though he were about to go into a berserker battle.

His face was still unmoving, emotionless as a stone wall, his mouth a straight line. His dark hair was pulled back into a short queue, leaving that stark face free of any shadow.

Victoria saw him swallow, saw his throat move. She watched as he drew in his breath; she saw his shoulders and chest rise. He swung back with both arms, elbows bending sharply, forearm blocking his face for the merest of seconds, and then, with all the power gathered up there, struck out with the blade.

It glistened silver in the light, sweeping through the air in a great arc as Victoria watched, her breath caught in the back of her throat, waiting for Aunt Eustacia to pull her arms free and swing into action in tandem with Max.

A great twist of pain darkened Max's face; he gave a low, guttural moan, and his eyes closed as the blade sliced where it was intended, where it had aimed. There was no sound from Aunt Eustacia as her body crumpled to the ground, her head thumping next to it. Severed. Separate. Blood spraying the floor and Max's legs.

Victoria stared for a moment, not believing her eyes, her breath choking, waiting for something to happen that would prove her vision false.

And when nothing did, and she realized her aunt was really dead in a great, sudden pool of blood, the arrow dropped from her nerveless fingers and landed right on the stage below.

Chapter 23.

The Ordeal

Victoria was numb to her very core; the back of her neck was cold, but the rest of her body was devoid of feeling. She couldn't see anything but red rage darkening the edge of her vision and Max.

Max holding the sword, wet with her aunt's blood.

Max looking up at her, his own blood-spattered, shocked, betrayed expression blanking as soon as he recognized her.

It could not have been more than a second, perhaps two, that this burst of emotions rushed over her; not more than a breath before the vampires and the Tutela were gawking up at her in anger and amazement and starting after her, slipping in the puddle Previous Top Nextof Aunt Eustacia's blood. Some of them were climbing the wall, leveraging one another up toward her vantage place, using the rough brick and wood molding for toeholds. She heard racing footsteps coming up from behind, and the shouts, and knew it was only moments before they would reach her.

She fit the second wooden stake to her bow and realized dimly that Sebastian was no longer next to her; but that was of no importance at that moment. She would kill Nedas, whom she'd come for, and then she'd kill Max.

There would be no question of judgment, no hesitation in taking up lethal force against a mortal. It would be done.

Cold determination blossomed over her, pushing away the shock as she lifted the bow, the knowledge that her aunt lay dead there on the stage demanding to be put aside for a moment while she focused on her duty.

The impact of her aunt's death would soon set in. First she had to avenge it.

The arrow fit into the string of the bow, Victoria drew it back to fire into the midst of chaos on the stage, where Nedas still stood, looking up in her direction with a challenging smirk on his face.

Focusing on his heart, she released the wooden bolt. The string of the bow pinged into place, spewing the arrow into a graceful arc as Victoria felt hands seizing her from behind. A face appeared in front, s.n.a.t.c.hing at her, trying to pull her down from the small platform on which she crouched, and once the vampires behind her realized this, they pushed.

She tumbled through the hole toward the stage below, dropping the bow and her arrows; a mult.i.tude of hands-so many, so very many-grabbing at her in a morbid reminder of the Tutela meeting where she'd nearly been mauled.

Perhaps tonight they would finish it. Pain arced through her; somehow she landed below, slamming into the stage. She kicked and fought with all of her might, smelled blood and felt her vision darken into smoke... then ebb into total darkness. The only thing that stayed with her was the fact that she lay in her aunt's blood, and that she hated Max.