Victoria didn't remove her stake as she pushed through the people. There were more than two vampires here, she realized, and she wondered what they were doing—if they were snatching people as they could, feeding on them and then releasing them, or if they were dragging them off as prisoners to feed on later.
Then she heard the shout: "Fire!"
A wave of screams rolled through the narrow hall, and the people began to push and shove to get through.
"Fire!" echoed in her ears, up and down and throughout the theater. The orchestra had stopped playing, and the only sound was that of cries and shouts.
People were leaving the building in droves, which was good. Outside they had a better chance of escaping a vampire attack simply due to the fact that they would scatter. But her neck was still cold, so the vampires were still about.
She hurried down one of the flights of stairs, listening to her instincts, hoping to find them somewhere. A faint smell of smoke told her that there really was a fire burning somewhere in the opera house, but Victoria was not ready to leave yet.
She didn't know how long she pushed her way through the throngs of people, or exactly where she was going as she made her way down hallways and up and down varying flights of steps. But as time passed, the smoke grew thicker, and she could hear the crashes of parts of the building falling, and the muted roar of flames.
At last she burst out of a door and found herself in a balcony on the opposite side of the stage from where the Regalados' box had been. She knew there was a vampire nearby; she looked up and over and saw him, three boxes away and down.
He looked up from the man on whom he'd been feeding and saw her.
The flash of recognition was instant. It was the one Imperial vampire who'd escaped after murdering Polidori.
"You!" he cried, blood streaming messily from his mouth. "I thought you were dead!" He dropped his victim and leaped from the small balcony to the one next to it, clambering along its edge so he could position himself to launch up to her level.
Victoria saw the flames snake up the curtains an arm's length away, saw that it would take the vampire two more inhuman leaps to get to her own box, and made the decision: She had to face him.
He recognized her; if he got away, he would expose her to the Tutela. She had to fight him.
Dipping to pull the stake from under her skirts, she did not feel the movement behind her until she was snatched back from the balcony. A hand clamped over her mouth and strong arms pulled her back, into the darkness of the box.
"Don't," Max snarled in her ear, "fight."
She heard the vampire coming closer, struggled to tell him, but he was strong and relentless, and pulled her swiftly and smoothly out of the box.
The smoke was thicker in the hallway, but Max charged along the hall, pulling her behind him. It stung her eyes and made her cough, but it was not at a dangerous level yet. She could still breathe, still see. The flames were far away.
Max shoved her down a flight of stairs and into a small room, following her in and closing the door silently behind them. He pushed her up against the wall, face-first, sliding a hand over her mouth and holding it there much too tightly. She struggled to force him away, but he did not move except for the rhythm of his labored breathing against her back.
"Go home. Back to London. You cannot do anything here. Nedas is too strong. He is going to win." His lips brushed her ear as he spoke.
She struggled anew, tried her favorite move of slamming her head back into his face, which he easily evaded.
"Do you understand? Nod."
She nodded, then shook her head as much as she could under his hand. His other fingers were clasped around both of her wrists, holding them at the base of her back.
"Of course you aren't going to listen to me, are you? You're too damned naive. And headstrong. Be quiet or I will hurt you," he said fiercely in her ear, then released her. Victoria spun around and faced him.
There was a small window in the room that allowed enough moonlight in to illuminate his face. She saw nothing there that gave her comfort. It was harsh and angry and determined; his eyes, barely discernible, were flat.
"Perhaps this will convince you that I mean what I say." He was pulling at his unbuttoned shirt, yanking it back from his muscular shoulder and turning away from her so that she could see the mark there.
It was dark and heavy, there on the back of his shoulder, just above his scapula, and she recognized it. A T entwined with serpents.
"You see. I'm a member of the Tutela, and I adhere to their strictures. Does that convince you?" He was breathing harshly now, and turned back around to face her. "I'm bound to assassinate Venators. I am one of theirs."
"I don't believe you." But something inside her was turning. They were alone. No one could hear. Why would he lie? "If it's true, you must tell me why."
He drew in a deep breath and took her by the shoulders. His fingers were strong but not painful, and he positioned her so that his unbuttoned shirt brushed against her bosom as he looked down at her. "I made a bargain with Lilith. She promised to release me from her thrall if I joined the Tutela." His fingers dug into her skin and she twisted away. To her surprise, he allowed it.
"Is Lilith here, in Rome, then? Is that where you've been—with her?"
"No." His voice was strangled, as though he could barely force the word out. "She has been in her mountain hideaway far from here. I've seen her only once, when she offered to release me from her influence if I came back to the Tutela."
"So why do you not kill me now if you are bound to assassinate Venators?"
"I am giving you the chance to get away. This is your last chance. If I see you again, I will betray you to Regalado and the others. If I do not, then they will have no reason to trust me any longer."
Victoria laughed, short and bitter. "You've done nothing to protect me, then. That vampire I saw in the theater, the one you took me from when I would have fought him, recognized me. He knows I am a Venator and he will expose me. So the decision has been taken from you."
"So it would seem." He looked at her, stepped away. "All the more reason for you to go back to London. You will be needed after this is all over."
"After what?"
"Go back home, Victoria."
Then he reached over and smashed the window next to her. Before she could react, he picked her up and shoved her out, and she found herself tumbling to the ground below. It was not a long fall, and she landed on a small bush.
Struggling to her feet, she looked up, but Max did not follow.