She expected him or her to charge out and attack her, but when nothing had happened after half a block, she stopped and turned to look behind. No one was there; the coolness at the back of her neck had eased.
Just as she turned to walk back to the alley, a black carriage, high sprung and elegant, wheeled around the corner. Victoria turned to look; it was unusual to see such an expensive coach in this part of town.
The carriage eased to a stop in the street in front of her. Its two black horses rolled their eyes, the only pure white in the gray of night, and stamped their feet. The driver did not look at Victoria as he sat unmoving.
Then the door opened.
"Victoria."
It was Sebastian, and he was beckoning to her; just his gloved hand was visible, but she recognized his voice, the way he said her name.
She stepped toward the carriage, walking up to the door, and looked in. Sebastian sat alone inside, leaning forward from his seat just enough to stretch his hand out. Offering his assistance to her in climbing in.
"Come. You won't find anyone to hunt tonight, my lovely Venator."
"Why is that?" She stood directly in front of the door, hands on her hips, suddenly unaccountably angry.
"Come for a ride with me. We can enjoy the full moon and I will tell you all about it."
"Unless there's a vampire in there that's ready to die, I'll walk. Thank you." She turned and started away.
He moved so quickly she had no time to react; he was out of the carriage and had his arm wrapped around her waist, whirling her back toward the vehicle in what seemed like an instantaneous movement. She stumbled over a stone that marked the edge of the road, falling toward the carriage. Her hands slamming into the wall were the only things that kept her from landing in the mud.
"So you're in the mood for a fight, are you?" Sebastian said in her ear as his hands planted on either side of hers. "That's the word on the streets. It's been the talk at the Chalice."
She whipped her arms out, knocking his hands away, and turned. He was right there, so close she could count every eyelash and smell cloves on his breath. "You're no match for me," she hissed. She didn't understand where this anger was coming from; she just knew she needed an outlet.
"Try me."
She moved, but he was fast, and he caught her wrists, one in each hand, and pulled them straight down so her arms were extended past her hips. Victoria struggled, but before she could break his grip he placed a foot next to hers and yanked her to the side. She lost her balance, and he picked her up and shoved her into the carriage.
Sebastian was up and inside before she could scramble to her feet, locking the door. He pounded a long walking stick on the ceiling for the driver to start just as Victoria sprang up from the floor.
"Have a seat, my dear," he said, looking up at her standing over him as if she'd just called for tea. "If you want to fight, I'll fight. You appear to be in need of some kind of… release. Or… you can take a seat safely over there."
Victoria sat. She was breathing hard, and a little shaken at how easily he'd bested her. Well, not bested her exactly—he'd caught her off guard, but she was not subdued. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
"What do you want?"
"That, my dear, is a dangerous question to ask. Are you quite certain you want my answer?"
She considered him, the way his eyes gleamed and a half smile curved his lips. And decided she wasn't ready to have the answer. So she asked a different question: "What did you mean, that I wouldn't find anyone to hunt tonight?"
"I mean that the undead have made themselves scarce on the streets the last few nights because of the rampage you've been on. They've all been biding their time at the Chalice, padding my pockets." He smiled fully. "So I thought that I might find you walking the streets, frustrated at your lack of success."
"Rampage? Hunting and staking vampires is what Venators do. No different from what Max has been doing for years."
"Maximilian is known for his cold and calculating kills, true, but apparently your particular technique of late has sent the undead scurrying. It may have something to do with the fact that you still have in your possession the Book of Antwartha and are one up on Lilith; I am not certain. I just know that the vampires have been more wont to drink kegged blood than fresh in the last few nights."
"So you've come to take me to the Chalice, so I can hunt there?"
A look of horror washed the charm off his face. "Absolutely not!" And then when he saw the faint smile she'd allowed, he laughed. "Touché, my dear."
"Why do you want to protect the vampires?" asked Victoria, feeling a bit less restive. A little more relaxed.
"I don't protect vampires."
"By offering them a safe place to congregate, you certainly do."
"Perhaps I find it beneficial to provide a place where they will come and take their ease. Perhaps having that public place where their tongues will loosen and information might flow is valuable to me, as well as others. And there is, of course, money to be made—both from the undead, and from the ones who merely wish to interact with them."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Some people find it pleasurable to allow a vampire to drink their blood."
"Pleasurable?"
"You've been bitten by a vampire, Victoria. You know what it felt like just before he sank his teeth into your neck. And how, after he did, you wanted to just let go and let him take you."
He was looking at her in such a way that she felt hardly able to breathe. But she managed to reply, "How do you know I was bitten by a vampire?"
Suddenly Sebastian was on the seat next to her, his walking stick clattering to the floor. His leg pushed into the side of her thigh as he turned to lean over her. Stripping off his glove, he reached for the collar of her cloak and pulled it away. The fresh air rushed over her skin. "Because I saw this the first time we met."
He traced his bare finger over her neck, following the tendon that led to the small pool at the base of her throat. He dipped his thumb there, filling the soft, elastic indentation as the rest of his hand moved to cup the side of her neck that was not scarred.
She couldn't move away. She could barely breathe as her pulse throbbed in the vee of his hand, making his grip tighten and then loosen in rhythm with her heartbeat.
"Remember this?" he murmured, tipping her head so that she rested in his hand, opening the marked side of her neck to the whole of the carriage, open and vulnerable as he bent toward her.