Someday, perhaps, he would find it amusing.
“Brim and Michalas aren’t invited?” he drawled. “What a shame.” Her hair fell in a dark cascade over one of her shoulders, and he remembered her scream as the clawed demon had lifted her by the scalp.
Victoria looked at him, and hell if there wasn’t a glaze of smugness in her expression. “I apologize for the informality of the accommodations, Max,” she said. “I realize you’d prefer to be anywhere but here.”
Bull’s-eye.
She turned to Vioget, who’d selected the chair in front of the dressing table, turning it to face the rest of the room. “How is your leg?”
“Verbena assisted Kritanu, and I do believe that between their efforts, I’ll be able to retain that limb, at least.” Vioget’s smile held a bit of self-deprecation, and Max’s attention flickered to the man’s left hand-which was missing two knuckles of his little finger, thanks to a particularly bloodthirsty woman named Sara Regalado.
“I never doubted that,” Victoria said, shifting on the edge of the bed. The hem of her robe gapped a bit, revealing a slice of the gown beneath it.
Max recognized it. Unfortunately. The fabric was the same pale lilac as the lacy, satin-skirted night rail she’d been wearing the last time he’d ventured into her chamber. The one that left little to the imagination, as the bodice was made purely of lace. At the time, he’d complained, telling her to cover up the ghastly gown… but he suspected in retrospect that she’d realized it wasn’t because of the design that he’d insisted. Hell.
“Perhaps I should take a look at it, Sebastian. Just to make certain,” Victoria was saying. She leaned forward, and the front of her robe gapped a bit, giving a hint of shadow and textured lace.
“Perhaps we could get to the matter at hand,” Max said crisply. “Then I can excuse myself and the two of you can examine each other’s injuries to your hearts’ content.”
He found it a bit more difficult to sound bored and annoyed today. And when Vioget gave him an arch look, Max merely ignored the smugness in his face.
It really would be best if he took himself away and disappeared. For good.
At least then he’d not have such trouble making decisions. And sticking to them.
Victoria drew the edges of her robe closed and straightened in her position. Her face grew serious. “I spoke with Brim before he went to sleep-his injuries were very severe, but he’ll be all right. Thank you, Sebastian.” She glanced at Vioget, who raised a brow at Max.
“Pesaro got there first. Credit where it’s due. Shall we?”
“Of course. Max.” She nodded at him, and he recognized a decided frost in her eyes.
Good, she was still annoyed with him. Best to keep it that way.
“Brim agreed with me that there has never been any kind of attack like this, that we know of. However, when he and Michalas were in Paris just before coming here, they had been investigating a rise in demonic activity. And there was, from one source, the report of an eerie black cloud forming over a cemetery.”
Brim and Michalas had left off their investigation in order to assist Victoria to foil Lilith’s plot to kill the king a few weeks ago.
Max straightened. His mind had moved from frivolous matters like lacy lilac night rails and on to more important topics. And he didn’t like where his thoughts led. “Wayren’s divine powers were rendered useless by those demons,” he said. “If we hadn’t gotten there in time, she may have been destroyed. She was in Paris before she came here,” he added meaningfully.
Victoria looked at him. “I suspect that’s what they were after.”
“Of course.” He let the impatience thread his voice. “That must mean-”
“There’s something greater afoot. Demons rising.”
Their eyes met, and Max felt an uncomfortable stirring in the pit of his belly. Vampires were a serious enough problem, but an uprising of demons-great numbers of them released from the pits of Hell-would annihilate both mortals and undead. Demons-angels who had fallen from grace long ago-and vampires were immortal enemies, just as mortals and vampires were.
Max and Victoria had faced demons in the past-one or two at a time, and of the lower rungs of power. But the demonic activity in the cemetery tonight had been like nothing else: smarter, sharper, more dangerous than Akvan or even Lilith.
“Wayren understands the strength and power of demons better than anyone. Of course they would attempt to incapacitate her before surging to power. Unless she was their target.”
“But where are they coming from?” asked Vioget, who’d been watching the two of them. “Demons cannot just rise from Hell. They have to be released. Somehow, somewhere.”
“Not by Lilith,” Victoria said, glancing at Max.
He stifled a snort even as an uncomfortable shiver rippled under his skin. “Of course not. Lilith would never consort with demons. She hates them.”
“But she asked you to destroy Akvan’s Obelisk, knowing that it would call him back to earth,” Vioget said pointedly.
“One mere demon is of no consequence to Lilith. And Akvan was little more than a thug. These… these are different. A whole different caliber of evil.”
Victoria was nodding. “They are. Something’s changed.” She looked almost frightened for a moment… Then it was gone. “I’m sending Brim and Michalas back to Paris, as I want them to see if they can find any more information about the events there. And whether they’ve continued since our experiences here-in other words, are the demons moving about looking for… something… or are they in more than one place? In the meantime, I would like us to visit the cemetery again. During the day. And armed with much holy water.”
Max gave a short nod, then rose. The meeting was over. He hurt. He was exhausted. He wanted to get far away from the two of them. “Very well.”
Victoria slid off the bed, her feet making a little thump, muffled by the rug. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you to attend me, Max,” she said stiffly.
Before he could turn, there was a knock at the door and it opened. Verbena stuck her head in, eyes wide and blue. “S’sorry to interrupt, my lady,” she said. “But… Kritanu is calling for Monsieur Vioget.”
Max felt Vioget’s eyes flicker to him, then to the door. As if Max had somehow arranged such an interruption. He tightened his lips. If anyone had arranged anything, it was Victoria. Not Max.