When Victoria got back on the ground and extricated herself from Sebastian’s questing fingers, she saw Max on the floor by the wall.
“Max? Are you all right?”
“Stop blocking the light,” he snapped.
“What are you doing?”
She crouched next to him, aware that Sebastian was standing behind, likely watching the areas he’d recently had occasion to caress.
“That iron grate is just outside of the Magic Door,” Max told her. “I saw it earlier tonight.” She could see that he was moving the candle around the floor near the wall. “It confirmed what Ylito and I had suspected—that this wall is next to Palombara’s laboratory.” He looked up for a moment, his eyes faint with wry humor. “I, unlike you, have an excellent sense of direction when inside a building.”
“Whatever it is you’re doing,” Sebastian said from his pose against the wall, “I suggest you do it quickly, for I expect our hosts to be returning shortly. I’d prefer not to be here when they return, if we can arrange it otherwise. I’m certain my relationship to Beauregard will hold me in good stead only long enough for Akvan to ask me a few pointed questions about my grandfather before he makes use of my head and its contents.”
“Then perhaps,” Max said between obviously clenched teeth, “you might bestir yourself to assist. I have reason to believe there must be a way from the laboratory to this chamber.” He must have heard Victoria draw in her breath, for he added, “Don’t waste time asking. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong—but there is no other way out of this room. But…” And he paused, then continued, “Apparently I’m not wrong, for here it is.”
He pushed back onto his knees. Through the streaks of dirt and blood on his face, the hollowness in his cheeks, Victoria saw satisfaction. “A door?” she asked dubiously.
“A drop of gold. Melted gold. Going under the wall here…see this brick…here.”
Victoria needed no further instruction or information. She began to work with Max, feeling around with her fingers to fit them into the groove under the brick.
But then, as a familiar, portending chill scuttled over the back of her neck, Victoria turned and met Max’s gaze only inches away.
“Damn,” was all he said.
“They’ll be coming for me,” Victoria said. “Most likely.”
“Or to find out what the grandson of Beauregard might know that would be helpful to Akvan,” Max said, a hint of relish in his voice. “Or for any of us.”
“We’ll make it look like we’re still tied up,” Victoria said. “Then we can take them by surprise when they come in. Max, you can still be unconscious.”
“Why, thank you.”
“Sebastian, if you can manage to do so without getting distracted, tie my wrists again. Quickly. Wait.” She turned and slid her hand up under her skirt to the side of her corset opposite where the knife had been hidden and quickly slid out the slender but deadly stake that was hidden in the same way the stiletto had been.
Slipping it into one of the small loops at the back of her gown (ones Verbena had insisted upon adding for just such an emergency), she allowed Sebastian to bind her wrists loosely enough that it would be no problem for her to slip free. Then, awkwardly, she did the same to him.
Max arranged himself on the floor where he’d been before, and Victoria slumped against the wall near his feet. Then she stomped her foot on the last of the burning satin flower.
Only the faintest smell of smoke hung in the air now, and the room became silent.
The back of her neck was colder, and her heart thumped faster as she felt the undead coming closer.
“Max? Do you have the knife?”
“Yes. And a stake hidden in my boot. Don’t attack until we’re out of the room.”
“Seb—”
But a rattle at the door silenced her, and Victoria closed her mouth and waited.
When the door burst open, Victoria watched again through slitted eyes. There were only three of them. Three!
They were tall and had red eyes, and she could see their fangs gleaming, even through the tiny slit of her gaze.
Two of them stayed at the door. Max was right; they couldn’t make a move to escape until they were safely out of the chamber, for fear they’d get locked back in. The third vampire, a tall woman, stepped farther in, and Victoria saw the glint of a pistol in her hand as she strode toward them.
She opened her eyes fully and looked up into the gaunt face of the female. Her eyelids were dark, her chin narrow and pointed. Long blond hair fell in ugly hanks over her shoulders, and it swayed as she slammed her boot into Max’s side so hard he jolted closer to Victoria.
He didn’t move, nor make a sound; even his breathing remained silent.
Now the vampire moved toward Victoria, looking down, pointing the gun directly at her. “Akvan is waiting for you,” she hissed, sliding a tongue over her fangs.
Dressed in the convenience of men’s clothing, she wore a jacket and a shirt that had possibly once been white, or some color close to it. When she bent toward Victoria, a leather thong around her neck fell from the opening of her shirt, knocked out by the weight of the short, black object that hung from it. Victoria caught her breath—the slender pendant was shiny, sharp, and glinted blue-black. She recognized it—a splinter, like the shard from Akvan’s Obelisk that she herself had locked away in the Consilium.
With effort Victoria drew her eyes away from the glistening black fragment. The vampire was so close, breathing so heavily, she could smell the blood on her breath and knew she’d just fed.
Victoria drew in a deep breath and grieved for the mortals who’d obviously been her meal. The mortals who hadn’t had a Zavier or a Sebastian to help get them out of the villa.
“Tell your friends not to move,” said the female. “Or I’ll shoot you. Now get up slowly.”
As Victoria shifted to struggle to her feet, keeping the stake hidden, hands bound behind her—albeit loosely—she brushed against Max and felt his fingers fumble against hers. In that instant she slowed her movements, made them more awkward so that he could slip something slender and smooth into her hands.
The vial he’d been drinking from.
Victoria closed her fingers around the tiny bottle and pulled to her feet, and this time her awkwardness wasn’t feigned. Her right leg was still aching, but she was able to walk on it. When she started toward the door, the female vampire followed close behind.