Victoria had visions of leaping off chairs or tables, stake in hand, and her lips twitched at the thought of her mother witnessing such a sight. Of course, Lady Melly would faint dead away if she saw the manner in which her daughter already kicked and spun and rolled during her other combat.
“We will fill a large woven basket with rocks,” Kritanu explained. There was a glint of humor in his eyes as if he knew what she’d been thinking. “You’ll walk around the rim of the basket, balancing on its narrow edge. Every day you’ll do this until you can do it perfectly. Then we’ll remove one stone. And you’ll do it again until you can do it perfectly.
“And then,” he said, raising a finger as if to forestall any question about leaping off the sofa, “we’ll remove another stone. And again you’ll walk around it. We’ll continue to do this until the basket is empty, and you can still walk around its rim.”
Victoria stared at him as the force of his description sunk in. “That is how you trained Max?” How could one walk around the rim of an empty woven basket without collapsing it, or tipping it?
His blue-black hair gleamed. “Indeed. As I said, Victoria, it’s the power of your mind . . . not your muscle or speed.”
She gave a spare nod. “I’ll do it.”
Light broke into the small room as the door opened. They both turned to see Sebastian standing at the other end of the aisle. Sunbeams shone over his golden hair from behind, and then he stepped into the darker room and closed the door.
“I wondered where you’d gone off to,” he said. “It was only a bit of luck that I looked out one of the windows and saw the flutter of your skirt as you slipped in here.”
“Never say my mother allowed you to slip from her clutches.” As Victoria watched him walk up the chapel aisle, she was struck by the memory of doing the same thing herself: to meet Phillip at the altar.
Her throat burned. She swallowed hard, and found herself needing to blink rapidly. Meeting her at the altar. Taking Phillip’s place? He’d made it clear he’d like to. At least, in the bedchamber.
She realized with a start that Sebastian had reached her side. But unlike a meeting of his bride, he didn’t reach for her hand and close warm fingers around it. Instead, he replied, “It was quite a feat, getting away from her—but not because she was suddenly overcome with fondness for me. Rather, it was because she was determined to undermine me, and keep me from your side. She sent Rockley off in search of you.”
“Hm. I was rather hoping for a bit more torture,” she replied, shaking off the discomfiting thoughts. “It’s only fair, after that little performance you gave.”
He settled his smile on her. “Torture? But, ma chère, you needn’t leave that to your mother. You have the skill well in hand.” There was a gleam in his gaze that unsettled her . . . and made her stomach squeeze pleasantly. She still could not repress her physical attraction to Sebastian.
Victoria felt her cheeks warm and she shifted her attention toward Kritanu. As if her acknowledgement gave him the impetus to speak, he looked at Sebastian. “You and Victoria have more in common than simply being Venators born.”
“But of course. The Gardella blood runs deeply through us both—but as I’ve told you before, my dear”— Sebastian bowed briefly to Victoria—“it’s from my mother’s side of the family. The Gardella name is so far back in my family tree that you and I needn’t worry about our branches crossing. We aren’t closely related at all.” His face lit with joviality, but his eyes . . . they were sharp with apprehension.
“But that is not what I meant,” Kritanu said in his precise tones. “I am speaking of Giulia.”
Silence.
Victoria looked at Sebastian, whose face had settled into an odd expression of chagrin and annoyance. When he didn’t speak, she turned to Kritanu. He, too, remained silent, watching Sebastian with an expectant look.
She folded her arms over her middle. “Another secret, Sebastian? Aren’t you through with them?”
He was silent for a moment, then he spoke at last, in a low, tight voice. “Max was a member of the Tutela, years ago.”
“That’s no secret to me.” Although Max had shown Victoria the marking on his skin from his days with the Tutela, he’d told her little else. She had had to get more information from Wayren, when Max had left the Venators after executing Aunt Eustacia.
“He exposed his father and sister to the Tutela,” said Sebastian.
“I know about that . . . it was a terrible mistake, but he was trying to protect them—they were sick, and his father was old, and dying,” Victoria replied evenly. “Max was young, and the Tutela was smart—”
“Then you must know that the Tutela killed his father . . . and allowed the vampires to turn Giulia to an undead.”
“Giulia?” Victoria felt as though the bottom of her stomach had opened and her insides were tumbling out.
“Giulia,” he continued in that tight voice, “was the first vampire I slew after receiving my vis bulla. She was my . . . I loved her. Max’s sister.” Then he looked steadily at her with empty golden eyes, his mouth angled into a humorless smile. “So you see, Victoria, Kritanu is right. You and I have much in common. We’ve both had to send the one we loved most to Hell.”
Eight
Wherein the Delights of a British Chef Are Discussed
Victoria forced her lips into a polite smile and nodded to Lord Bentworth as he and his triple chins extolled the virtues of his new chef in comparison to the one here at the Hungreath residence.
“Don’t skimp on the salt, either,” he said, emphasizing his pleasure with the slice of pheasant skewered on the tines of his fork. “Told him not to, and listened from the first day. And the sauces. None of that Frenchy stuff— like this here—told him that. Don’t need the beef swimming in it, said.” He slipped the fowl in his mouth, and his jaw ground furiously as he chewed, cheeks bulging.
Her mind distracted by other matters more pressing than an appropriate level of seasoning or the cultural influence thereof, Victoria glanced down the table. Sara Regalado was indeed watching her, sharp brown eyes and mysterious smirk all aimed in her direction. Victoria firmed her lips to let the other woman know she wasn’t intimidated, then turned back to her own roast pheasant.
Although she could have manufactured an excuse for staying home tonight, Victoria had decided to attend the dinner party at the Hungreaths’ for a variety of reasons. First, because Lady Hungreath was Gwendolyn’s god-mother and was giving the party in honor of the happily affianced couple, and Gwen had extracted Victoria’s promise to attend. Secondly, because George Starcasset and Sara were to be in attendance, and Victoria felt that it might be prudent to keep an eye on them. And finally, because it gave her a bit of space from Sebastian and his shocking revelations.