But to send that creature to Hell… His fingers tightened around the stake.
He glanced back. Nedas was coming toward him, his red-ringed blue eyes burning with hatred. He fairly flew across the stage, and the other vampires scuttled out of his path. Max saw a flash of silver out of the corner of his eye and looked back to see that Victoria held a sword—the sword. Her face was set, her dark eyes shadowed with the same grief and anger that fueled him. Even without her vis bulla, she looked like a warrior.
"I want him!" she shouted, running forward with none of her usual grace and strength.
Max hesitated; he understood her need, but she could barely lift the sword. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement, and turned to meet two vampires who had circled around and were coming from behind.
He had no choice but to fight them off, and noticed that his movements were slowing and his breathing becoming more labored. He actually missed the heart of one vampire the first time, and had to waste precious seconds and energy to bring his arm back up and stake the undead properly.
There was a loud cry behind him, and Max whirled in time to see Victoria rush toward Nedas, clumsy and awkward, with her sword. The blade was pure silver, and the vampire halted in front of her, but did not back away.
As she reached him, just as his hand whipped out to grab her, Victoria's awkwardness caused her to trip. Max watched in horror as she seemed to lose her hold on the sword, and it jolted dangerously in her hand, the tip striking the floor… then in abject disbelief as she used her stumble to duck under Nedas's arm and pivot around behind him with surprising dexterity, and he realized with surprised admiration that the chit had faked her stumble.
With obvious effort and great relish, she rose up from the back of the vampire prince before he could turn, and swung the heavy sword in the same, but slower, lethal movement Max had used only hours before.
The blade severed Nedas's neck before he realized she'd come up behind him, and in an amazing, frozen moment, he exploded into foul-smelling ash.
Max had been running toward Victoria to interfere; now he was intent on sweeping her up and getting them both to safety before Nedas's followers comprehended what had happened.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her, sword and all, and dashed between two vampires, who stood as though turned to stone, and off into the wings of the stage. A loud bellow sounded behind them; it sounded as if Regalado was calling the undead to action, and Max did not slow.
They ran through the backstage, Max practically carrying Victoria, for she couldn't keep up, and he was certain that by this time the effects of touching his vis bulla would have worn off.
It was fortunate that he knew his way around the theater, for the passageways turned and ended and branched and cut into each other; but he always knew where they were. The sound of approaching vampires echoed in the empty halls behind them, far distant, but always in their wake.
When they finally reached the back door, the one the vampires used because bushes and trees and the small hillock into which the theater was built obstructed it, Max released Victoria.
She stepped away from him, still holding the sword, and they looked at each other, breathing hard, the relative safety of exit a handsbreadth away. Everything was silent—even the sounds of pursuit had faded.
One glance told him what he'd already known: She might have saved his life, but in her mind, it was on principle only.
She wasn't about to forgive him any more than he would forgive himself.
Chapter 26
A Case of Mistaken Identity
Victoria turned away from Max's steady look to place her hand on the door, lifting the latch. The sword still hung from her numb fingers.She was out of breath, weak and unsteady, but under it all there was a wave of satisfaction. She'd killed the vampire prince without her vis bulla, using only her meager woman strength, her agile mind—and what Kritanu would have to consider the most unpredictable fighting move she'd ever executed.
Satisfaction, yes, it simmered through her.
But when she looked at Max it fizzled away into a mass of uncertain emotion: nausea, grief, and shock.
And she knew he saw the anger that still burned in her eyes. Knew that she didn't know how to look at him, how to feel toward him. How could she? He'd spent a year living with the Tutela, pretending to be one of them so skillfully that even she'd questioned his loyalty… yet in the end he'd destroyed the obelisk and saved them all.
Except Aunt Eustacia. Could she ever forgive him for that?
"What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?"
His words—not the humble ones she'd expected—startled her, but when she looked back at him, the rage in his dark eyes was enough to make her take a step away.
He was angry with her?
"I was saving your miserable life!" she shot back, her trembling hand tightening on the latch. "You destroyed the obelisk and I wanted—"
"You wanted? Yes, it was all about you, wasn't it?" he snarled. "You gave no thought to anything but what you wanted. Revenge—on me, on Nedas, on whoever got in your way. Never mind the fact that you're helpless as a child now, that I risked my bloody neck to get you out of here, nearly lost the one chance I had to stop Nedas. If you don't survive, everything we've accomplished tonight will be in jeopardy."
He stood tall and threatening over her, his dark hair falling over his face, bloodshot eyes flashing anger, and fingers planted on the wall next to her as though to keep himself from throttling her. "You are The Gardella now, Victoria. You have an obligation to the Consilium and the rest of the Venators. You can no longer think only of yourself, of your needs and desires, but of the far-reaching consequences of your actions. Or inactions." He pulled away, straightening, as the sounds of shouts and dashing feet sounded again in the distance. "It's time you learned to sacrifice."
"As my aunt sacrificed?" Victoria spat, anger, grief, shock, all barreling through her, making her weak and disoriented. Her animosity grew, burning along her nerves. "You made that choice for her, Max. I made the choice to save your life when you would have died back there."
"And by doing so, you forced me to live with what I've done. You've done me no favor, and done nothing for the Consilium."
"Why didn't you tell me that you planned to destroy the obelisk?"
"Hmm. Could it have been because you either would have demanded to know how, and every single detail, and insisted on assisting, or that you would not have believed me? I told you in every way possible that you needed to leave, and apparently even blatant rudeness didn't work."