The Rest Falls Away (The Gardella Vampire Chronicles #1) - Page 49/51

"You do not like my little surprise? I am sorry that I did not allow him to finish feeding before you arrived. I only allowed him to sample me in order to take the edge off his appetite. He will still enjoy you when I give him the word." She gestured at Phillip. "Rise! You will have what you need when the time is right."

Phillip obeyed and stood next to Victoria, and she realized what Lilith intended when he smoothed a hand possessively down her arm. Her stomach pitched.

"Now we will negotiate, my dear. Although I don't know that there is much room for that; as you can see, I hold all of the cards."

"I still have the book." Although what good it did her, Victoria did not know. Phillip. What had she done to him? By marrying him, by giving in to her selfish needs… she'd brought him here.

Grief numbed her. He was gone, and she could not get him back. He was damned. Evil. Immortal.

"Yes, but the book is worth more to you if you give it to me than if you keep it."

Victoria struggled to turn her attention from the shock and horror of her husband's condition and focused on Lilith. "What do you mean?"

"With the book I can give you what you want, Victoria." Lilith's eyelids sank lower, and she pierced Victoria with her intent. Red glowed, beaming from her blue irises. "I can give you back your husband. Whole. Pure. Mortal, for he has not yet fed on a mortal being."

"How?"

Lilith rose for the first time, and stepped down one step. Her slender hands clasped in earnest at her middle, the long, fitted gown she wore trailed down the steps after her. "It is in the book."

"Why should I believe you?" Victoria's mind worked frantically. She could save Phillip! It was worth it to save a life, to give Lilith the book.

"Because you have no choice. And why would I lie? I have the advantage. I don't need to do anything for you."

"Why would you?"

That was when Lilith stepped right up to her. Victoria kept her eyes focused over the vampire queen's shoulder, but the woman's proximity sent her pulse speeding, snagged her breath and made it her own. She could feel Phillip next to her, struggling to control himself. "Because, my dear, I can give you something else that will also benefit me."

She smelled like roses. Fresh, dewy, beautiful roses. This icon of evil, of rapaciousness, smelled like a summer flower. The epitome of feminity. She smelled like Victoria's mother.

Victoria wanted to gag. She replied instead, "I beg you, don't keep me in suspense."

"I can release you from your vow. I can make you a person, not a Venator. I can set you free. You and your husband."

Her heart hammered. Her hands slickened. Victoria closed her eyes; Lilith continued to speak. "Your aunt didn't tell you there was a way out, did she?"

Victoria shook her head.

"There is always a way out… well, nearly always." Lilith laughed. The sound filled Victoria's ears, echoed inside her brain. "Some of us are bound forever… but not you, Victoria. Not your marquess. You can be free, have a normal life. Is that not what you wish?"

"Ah, yes, I'll give up my powers so you can kill me. That's quite a deal." It was a struggle to form the words, but they sounded cool—at least to Victoria's ears.

She waited to be convinced… she waited to hear Lilith's line of reasoning, praying that it would give her the freedom to make the choice.

"Oh, no, didn't I mention? Along with the release from your vow, there is also an incantation that provides you and your lover with infinite protection from the undead. You will be free to live as you wish… have a child, even… and be protected from all vampires. If you give me the book."

Victoria drew in a deep breath. Everything she wanted. For the price of an old book.

A book that had spells in it that could help Lilith gain power. She would be able to raise demons. She would be able to mask herself from Venators.

Victoria swallowed. The book hung heavy in the bag at her side, along with her conscience. Her heart was numb.

Phillip stood, panting, next to her. Victoria looked at him, and he faced her as if drawn by some invisible thread. The red had faded from his eyes, and his fangs retracted. He looked like the man she loved. The one she'd stood up at the altar with, promised her love and fidelity to.

The one she'd pledged to be bound to for the rest of their lives.

You should have confessed this before we were married, Victoria. It is unforgivable that you did not.

His last words to her hung in her memory, harsh and brutally true.

She had wronged him beyond anything he could have imagined, damning him to hell once his immortal life was ended by someone like her… or to hell on earth as an evil creature living off the blood of helpless victims.

She loved him, and she'd brought him to this.

She could save him… and she could also get what she wanted: freedom from this life. A clear conscience. A mind ignorant of these evils. The same blissful ignorance her mother now had.

And protection from them.

Isolation from the knowledge and reality of the undead.

Victoria's heart beat faster. Her hands moved, digging into the satchel. The leather cover of the book felt rough, the binding split. The pages crackled when she moved them.

"Give me the book." Lilith stood close, but she didn't dare touch it until Victoria gave it to her. Freely.

Victoria could feel her anxiety, her lust for the set of bound pages.

What was she trading? Her life, Phillip's life… for a book.

A book that contained… perhaps… great powers. And perhaps not.

"Stand back," Victoria said to Lilith. Her decision was made. "I will make the trade."

Chapter Twenty-seven

A Most Fortuitous Length of Rope

When Lilith stepped away from him, focusing all of her power and attention on Victoria, Max was finally able to set the rhythm of his own breath. His neck throbbed and burned, but he knew from experience that it could have been worse.Much worse.

Warm blood trickled over his skin. He pushed himself upright with trembling arms, forced himself to his feet, and shot a hard look at the Guardian who dared to move toward him. No one would risk touching the property of Lilith, which branded him safe—in a manner of speaking.

Rockley had been turned undead. Max had suspected, but wasn't certain until now, when he saw the way Rockley gazed with unleashed lust on his wife. At Lilith's word, he'd feed on Victoria until she died—or worse. But not until he was given leave by his mistress. Not only had she allowed him to feed from herself, but Lilith was holding him off to ensure his complete devotion.

Touching his vis bulla, Max closed his eyes, inhaled the power, and let Lilith's evil seep from his pores. They had to find a way to get out of this place with the book. There was no hope for Rockley.

Then he heard Victoria. "Stand back. I will make the trade."

What?

Give Lilith the book? Undo all they had worked for?

No!

He moved, started down the steps of the dais… and was blocked by the swords of two Imperials.

Victoria had seen; she looked at him. Hard. Then her eyes swept away to his left, quickly up and then down. Back to the satchel, which hung across the front of her body. She was feeling through the bag with one hand; the other fell alongside the loose white trousers she wore.

She'd dressed for battle, so to speak. Her hair was pulled back, severe and black, twisted into a knot at the base of her neck, leaving her eyes wide and dark in a face the color of health… not death. Despite Lilith's vibrant hair, Victoria was the one who glowed, standing next to her.

Max took a deep breath. Focused. To his left was the large, shallow dish of fire, sitting in its cradle of metal arms. Next to it was a pile of wood… much too thick to be used as stakes. But the fire itself…

"Stand away," Victoria said to Lilith, and suddenly Max saw why. She had a pistol in her hand. That was helpful.

Lilith stepped back, but did not appear surprised. "You took that from your husband. There is no bullet in there that can harm me. You are the only one in danger from such a weapon." Then she turned to look at Max, still held captive behind two crossed swords. "Or he." Her brows lifted and she sent him a scorching smile. "Perhaps you wish to eliminate any witnesses to your… change of heart."

Victoria raised the pistol and pointed it at Max. It had been a while since he'd been on the wrong side of a barrel, and he hadn't missed the predicament one whit. The Imperials even shifted their swords, as if to give her a better shot. "I would not wish my aunt to know that I had forsaken my vow; instead, Max and Phillip and I will simply disappear."

"I am not finished with him yet," Lilith replied.

"Nor am I." Victoria looked at Max again and, giving a spare nod, pointed the pistol straight above her head and pulled the trigger. The black-painted dome burst, and shards of glass rained down on the center of the floor… and noon sunlight blasted through the opening in the ceiling.

Lilith screamed and fell away, rolling out of the generous ring of light in the center of the floor. Phillip, who was standing on the edge of the sunlight-infused area, dodged from the danger zone.

Max had moved just as Victoria nodded, shoving the vessel of fire onto the Imperials. One of them caught flames at the edge of his trousers, and when he dropped his sword Max leaped for it.

Max vaulted to his feet, slicing the head from the burning Imperial. He whipped around and took two more heads from the unprepared vampires who stood gawking along the walls, and spun toward Victoria.

Victoria hesitated, looking at her husband, but then Max was storming toward her. He leaped, landing next to her in the middle of the room. Sunlight bathed them both standing in the circle of safety. The fire he'd tipped over caught at the upholstery on Lilith's chair, and began to tear through the carpet. Smoke clouded the fringes of the room, rising to the open air above.

Most of the vampires had advanced, collecting around them, blocking them into the round yellow area that spanned perhaps eight feet. Lilith stood a short distance away, screaming orders and rubbing her hands over her body as if to brush away the burns from the sunlight. One of her Guardians was wiping a fine layer of burned skin from her face and bosom, leaving, raw pink underskin in its wake.