“And so are you. Smart enough to know when you’ve overstepped. Release them now, and it will go easier for you.”
“And so you’ve come charging to the rescue—da solo.” Sara chuckled as she walked over to the vampire near Kritanu. “How difficult it must be for fusti such as these to know that you—a mere woman—must save them. A shame, that. But you neglected to bring anything for barter. Now I shall be forced to continue with mio divertimento. And it may be quite an . . . inconveniente . . . for your friends.” She took the large knife from the vampire and, smiling at Victoria, moved to stand next to Sebastian.
Her hand moved to touch the top of his head, as if she were caressing a pet . . . then slid down to his shoulder and along to grip the arm fixed to the table. She looked up at Victoria, her brown eyes gleaming with pleasure. “Have you ever heard him scream?”
“Stop. You needn’t play the game any longer. I’m here. What is it you want?” Victoria’s mouth was so dry she could hardly form the words. The stake hung uselessly in her pocket.
“You fool, Victoria!” Sebastian shouted suddenly, urgently. “You have to go.”
The blade flashed as Sara raised it. She was still watching Victoria. “What have you to offer me? Pronto! Before my patience is gone.”
“One of the Rings of Jubai,” said Victoria quickly. “Lilith will be delighted for you to return it to her. She will reward you greatly.”
The blade wavered. A trickle of perspiration rolled down Sebastian’s face, yet he glared at her. The room was silent. Where was Max? If he didn’t make the disturbance soon . . .
“I know not what it is.” But Sara was interested, and Victoria was glad to have her attention. Just keep the blade up.
“There are five of them, made of copper. The Venators are in possession of one of them, and I can retrieve it for you in exchange for Kritanu and Sebastian—unharmed any further.”
“How do I know you do not lie to me?” The blade shivered and Victoria held her breath.
“Ask them.” She gestured to the vampires clustered around Brodebaugh, who apparently was under their watch. After his outburst, George had remained silent. This was, clearly, wholly Sara’s game.
One of the undead, a woman ironically, nodded when Sara looked at her. “Describe the ring,” said the vampire.
Victoria did, quickly, her eyes on the blade the whole time.
“Where is this ring?” asked Sara.
“Sebastian retrieved it. He knows where it is.” What was the delay?
Sara looked at her with distaste. “You expect that I shall release him to enable you to retrieve the ring?”
Just then—at last!—a sudden boom from the next room startled the occupants. The two windows near that wall shattered, sending glass shards scattering. Sunlight streamed in through the torn curtains, and chaos followed. A nearby vampire fell to the floor in agony, his skin peeling off in angry strips as he writhed in the sunbeam.
Chaos reigned—Sara was shouting, half in Italian and half in English, waving the knife, giving sharp orders. Two vampires launched themselves at Victoria as she started toward Sebastian, pulling the stake out of her pocket. She stabbed one, missing his heart but slowing him nevertheless, and vaulted over the table as the knife blade flashed.
As Victoria slammed Sara to the floor she felt the knife slice along her arm. Blood burst from her skin— her blood—filling her nose and turning her vision scarlet. The small woman beneath her had no chance to withstand Victoria’s strength; it took only a single blow to the chest for her to release the blade and slump to the ground, unconscious.
Panting heavily, Victoria tore herself away from the woman she hated, blinking the red away, willing it away, as something heavy landed on her back. It smashed her to the floor, and it was alive.
Galvanized, Victoria rolled over, grabbing the vampire from behind and tearing at his grip even as he tore at her with claws and teeth. Her blood . . . Sebastian’s . . . Kritanu’s . . . filled her nose, her vision, sat on her tongue . . . It became a whirlwind, a maelstrom of kicking and fighting, of driving fury. She slammed and staked and scratched and elbowed until at last she was free. She grabbed the knife Sara had dropped, pulling to her feet.
Max was there at last, panting, his hair loose from its queue. He appeared to have done some damage if the streaks of blood on his face were the sign of a victorious warrior. As Victoria moved to free Sebastian, she saw Max lunge for the last remaining vampire and place a stake in the center of its chest. Even without the power of the vis bulla he was lethal.
As she sawed away at Sebastian’s bonds, she heard a soft oath behind her. Her skin prickling, she turned to see Max, frozen, wearing a stricken expression. He was looking beyond her, and Victoria turned slowly.
Sara could barely stand, but the gun in her hand was steady. It was pressed into Kritanu’s back, at precisely the location where neck met shoulder. “Now, we will negotiate.” The fact that she spoke in Italian indicated the level of her distress. But, still, she held the gun, and Victoria was powerless unless she wanted Kritanu to die right then.
“The Ring of Jubai. You will bring it to me, if indeed it exists,” Sara said, her voice warming. “Maximilian will accompany us. I’m certain Lilith will be delighted to see him. And will be appropriately appreciative to me. George.” She looked over at her companion, who’d risen from his chair during the altercation, presumably in an effort to remain out of the way of violence, as he was more of a gentleman’s Tutela than an adventuresome one. “You take him.” She gestured to Max with a jerk of her head.
Now, Victoria noticed that Brodebaugh sat slumped in his chair, his head at an unnatural angle. He would be no help to anyone, ever again. George rose from his seat, moving toward Max with alacrity. “I’ll tie his wrists.”
“No,” Sara said, her eyes crafty. “No, he will carry his friend. As added insurance.” She smiled that cool smile. “He wouldn’t risk harm coming to the old man, though he might not care what happens to himself.”
For once Victoria was in agreement with Sara, disagreeable as it might be. For a man who was willing to take his own life rather than be subjected to Lilith’s will again, it would be nothing for Max to risk trying an escape, even with a gun on him. But he would not endanger anyone else, especially Kritanu.
Victoria was ordered to give the knife to George, who then gave it to Max—presumably so that she and Max would have no chance for private communication—and it was he who cut Kritanu free. Under Sara’s watchful eye and gun barrel, he hoisted the elderly man up over his shoulders as gently as possible. He, too, had vampire bite marks on his neck and on any exposed flesh. Blood still streamed from the stump of Kritanu’s arm, and the man groaned quietly. He had lost a lot of blood . . . and he hadn’t the Venator powers, although he wore a small amulet that gave him some protection from the undead.