A leering vampire face showed in the broken window, reaching in to scrabble his hand around to find the door latch. Victoria reacted, shoving the stake through and miraculously catching him in the chest. Poof! One Guardian was gone.
But she couldn't stay in here forever. They weren't going anywhere, and Sebastian didn't appear to be promising any help.
Victoria leaned out of the jagged window and said, "Who calls 'Venator'?"
"I do." The Imperial vampire stepped toward the carriage. It was a greasy-haired woman, and her eyes were the red-violet hue of her status. She carried a sword, as had the ones Max had battled, and she wore trousers—slim, leg-hugging trousers that afforded greater movement than the ones Victoria wore.
"What do you want?"
"I have come to bring you to my mistress. She wishes to meet the newest Venator."
Victoria dodged back in as one of the Guardians lunged toward the carriage in a vain attempt to catch her and pull her out. "Please give Lilith my regrets, but I receive callers only on Tuesdays and Wednesdays between the afternoon hours of two and half past three. Unfortunately, we do not serve her favorite beverage."
She reached out and grabbed at the vampire who'd just missed closing his hand around her. Her fingers gripped his jacket, trying to pull him into the coach. If she could just… get… them… one by one…
He slipped free of her grasp and thudded to the ground, and suddenly what had appeared to be a stalemate took a turn for the worse. The remaining three vampires moved toward the carriage as though flying, and slammed into it with the entire force of their power.
The carriage rose up high on one side, held for a moment in midair, then slammed onto its other side.
Victoria and Sebastian landed in a heap on the far windows, and in the furor, a slim pale arm reached in from what was now the top and had been merely a broken window, fumbling around for the door catch.
Victoria scrambled to her feet, climbing on the vertical seats. She ignored the pain in her head and stepped over Sebastian, who lay in a heap on the floor.
The door opened before Victoria could prevent it, but she was ready with her stake and stabbed out at the torso that came through the entrance. With a grunt of triumph she drove it into the body, and blood spurted out.
And then she realized, as it was flung away, that one of the vampires had used what had been Sebastian's driver as a human shield.
But that was her last thought, for suddenly everything went dark and close as something heavy was thrown over her. Victoria struggled, but whatever was holding the stifling cloth down over her person was strong and unmoving.
She couldn't breathe, couldn't take in any more lungfuls of oxygen that weren't laden with lint or dusty or stale or tight… too tight. She struggled against that tightness and tried to pull in more air… and finally lost the battle.
The blackness became reality.
Chapter Nineteen
The Marquess Cuts In
Something pulled at her, nudging her into semiconsciousness. It was too difficult… she couldn't drag her eyes open."Victoria!"
There it was again—that hissing voice, bothering her.
Then suddenly she came awake, remembered the Guardians and the Imperial, Sebastian and his coach.
But even with her eyes open, she saw nothing. Blackness. The voice was closer, but she didn't know whose it was… it was too low. She made her mouth move. "Here."
Something was covering her, wrapped around her so that she couldn't move and could barely breathe. No wonder she hadn't wanted to wake up… it was much too difficult to try to draw in air under this heavy cloth. But she had to.
Stealthy movement told her someone was coming toward her. Then hands were moving, pulling at the knots, stripping the ties away, and finally plucking the stifling woolen cloth from her face.
Victoria had never felt anything so wonderful as those deep, clean breaths of air… despite the fact that they were laced with the stench of rotting fish. She was not complaining.
"Max. How did you get here?" she asked, even as she pulled herself to her feet, checking for stakes. They appeared to be in a warehouse, and based on quiet lapping sounds below, not to mention the odors, it was near the wharves.
"They're coming back for you anytime; let's go," he said, grabbing her arm. "The sun will rise in less than an hour, so they will hurry."
He led the way out of the room and she followed, shaking off his grip and trying to figure out how he'd found her. She must not have been unconscious for long if the sun hadn't risen yet.
Once outside, Victoria took in greater breaths tinged with the scent of seaweed and salt. Much better.
A hackney was waiting around the corner from the warehouse, and Victoria recognized it as Barth's. She looked at Max, but he was already answering her. "When you didn't show up at your meeting place, Barth came and found me. I learned the rest from Sebastian. Climb in."
He stepped in after her, and the hackney took off with an enthusiastic lurch. Barth was just as ready to call it a night as Victoria.
"They were taking me to see Lilith," Victoria told him. "Why did they leave me there? Why didn't they just take me right to her?"
"I can only guess, Victoria, since I wasn't there and am not, unfortunately, privy to their plans… but I would assume it was because they weren't certain of her location or whether she was quite available to… eh… receive you."
She settled back in her seat, thankful that for whatever reason, she hadn't been brought face-to-face with the queen of the vampires whilst unconscious and wrapped up in a heavy black cloth. She would meet Lilith someday, but Victoria truly hoped it would be more on her terms than on Lilith's.
The last thing Victoria wanted to do was attend the party celebrating the Duke of Mullington's fiftieth birthday. But she had no choice.
Her mother was in a fine fettle, for she'd realized that it had indeed been over a sennight since the Marquess of Rockley had called on his betrothed. Victoria had been avoiding the subject and hiding in her room, trying to figure out just what to tell her, but that had only added fuel to the fire of her mother's concern. There was no way on earth Melly was going to allow the engagement to be broken. Rockley was too fine a match to let go. He'd asked for Victoria, and her mother was going to see to it that he would take her.
Thus, on a sticky summer evening, Lady Melly herded her daughter to the Grantworth carriage and watched with a tapping foot as the groom helped her climb aboard. She clambered in after her and settled on the seat across the way.
"Your maid did a fine job dressing your hair this evening, Victoria," she commented. "Though she seems rather obsessed with those sticks in your coiffure. Why does she not use feathers or beads instead of those Chinese objects?" The ones tonight were painted with pink-and-green swirling designs, Verbena's own creation, of which the maid was quite proud.