The Rest Falls Away (The Gardella Vampire Chronicles 1)

"Ouch!" She jerked away, still clutching the settee. "I'm well aware of that… and it hurts, so don't touch it!"

Maximilian ignored her and pulled her toward one of the gas lamps so he could get a better look. "He didn't feed much." He smoothed his fingers gently over her warm skin, feeling the steady pumping of her vein under his rough fingerpads. When he brought his hand away, a smudge of crimson colored his fingers. "Damnation!"

He jammed his hand in his pocket and scrabbled his fingers around until they pulled out the vial. "Do be still, Victoria," he snapped, twisting the cork from the small bottle. He pushed her head none too gently aside so he could see the wound. Before she could react, he had sprinkled the four small red circles of the bite with the water.

Victoria shrieked in pain and jumped away, clapping her hand over the wound. "What are you doing?"

"Washing the bite with holy water and salt, of course. And yes, it does sting, but it's the only recourse at this time. You'll be all right, but we've got to get you to Eustacia immediately. She has a salve—"

"Of course. I know that." The look she gave him was dark. She let go of the settee and shook out her skirts. "My gown is ruined! I cannot walk out of here and through the party in this condition! Everyone will think… Well, they'll think the worst!"

Max closed his mouth. When he spoke, his jaw was tight. "I will fetch your cloak—"

"No, you'll never be able to find it. I'll go with you and we can cover up my gown. But my mother—"

"Eustacia will send her a note explaining," Max replied, ushering her toward the door. "Come, we have time, but not that much time. The holy salt water will only slow the Guardian's poison for a short time." He fairly pushed her out the door and followed her directions down the hall, back toward the party.

When she'd found her cloak and arranged it to cover her gown, he took a moment to adjust the fallen piece of hair, tucking it firmly into the collar of her cloak so that it would hide the bite.

Moments later he was propelling her across the ballroom, dodging anyone who appeared eager to stop and talk, when the Marquess of Rock-something materialized. Victoria froze; Max could feel it all the way along the arm he'd been using to steer her through the crowd.

"Miss Grantworth. And… er… ahem." He looked pointedly at Max. "I was looking for you."

"Lord Rockley," Victoria said, with a gentle note in her voice that Max had yet to notice in any of his conversations with her, "I apologize for disappearing, and I regret even more that I am being called away to my great-aunt's bedside. She is ill again."

Rockley—so that was his name—looked at Max again, then back at Victoria. "I see. Well, my lady, I regret that I was not able to quench your thirst this evening. Good night."

"My lord, wait." Victoria pulled away from Max and reached for the marquess's arm. He stopped and looked down at her, and even from Max's view, he appeared cool and untouched, although surely one of the most beautiful women in the room was pulling him back. "May I present to you my aunt's personal guard, and my cousin"—Max heard her stress that last word—"Maximilian Pesaro. He came to fetch me to her side. Urgently."

Rockley gave Max another of his measuring looks, then the barest trace of a bow. "Phillip de Lacy, Marquess of Rockley, at your service, er, sir."

Max's patience was gone. The niceties of society and the flirtation between a debutante and a titled fop meant nothing in the grand scheme of things—namely that the beloved niece of Eustacia Gardella was currently carrying a vampire bite on her neck. "My pleasure, I'm sure. Victoria, I must insist we be on our way. Your aunt is in desperate straits."

To his surprise, Victoria allowed him to practically tow her off in his wake; she had to take quick steps in order to keep up with him, but she did so with a minimum of fuss.

"You appear to have no concept of how little time we have to address the situation in which you've so foolishly placed yourself," he snapped, shoving her into the coach that had been waiting for his return.

Victoria stumbled in and crawled over to a far corner, dragging her skirts and cloak. Despite her bravado in fac-ing him, she looked more than a little terrified about the result of her weakness. However, she recovered much too quickly.

"I suppose you will have some sort of nasty remarks to make regarding my weakness," she said as the coach lurched into movement. "Regarding my failure as a Venator. Bitten by a vampire. A great laugh for you."

Max stared at her from his seat across the coach. A small lantern hung in the corner, casting a soft glow over the interior, enough that she could see his mouth set into a thin line.

He hesitated for only a moment; then he reached toward his throat and whipped the cravat from its perfect anchor, stripping it away and tossing it aside. Victoria watched, dumbfounded, as he snapped open the buttons on his collar and yanked it wide, exposing his neck. He turned to one side, displaying the four small marks of a vampire bite: two from the top fangs, two from the bottom.

With a steady look, he turned in the other direction and showed her the other side of his neck, right at the juncture of his shoulder. The one that had not quite healed.

"The reason I carry a vial of salted holy water."

He settled back in his seat and turned to stare out the window.

Victoria closed her mouth and said not another word.

Victoria could not forget how easily she'd succumbed to the vampire's allure. When his lips had touched her neck, she'd softened, swayed, under his influence. His teeth, needle sharp, had played there… scraping gently over her skin, taunting, stroking, glancing over her pulse point as she lay in his arms, malleable and soft as a puddle of wax.

And then, just as he sank his fangs into her skin… as the painful pleasure flooded over her, into her… she gathered every last bit of reality that swam in her mind, and closed her fingers over the stake. He moaned in ecstasy, and she struck.

Poof.

He was gone, and suddenly Maximilian was there. And now he'd brought her to Aunt Eustacia's house.

"The Guardians had found her by the time I arrived," Max explained as he hustled Victoria into the salon. Her neck was still throbbing, thanks to another generous application of Max's salted holy water during the ride in his carriage, driven by Briyani.

"Guardians?" Victoria asked as he directed her toward a chair. She sank into it and sat placidly while Eustacia and Kritanu bustled about the room. They were preparing something that smelled nasty and she expected would soon be plastered over her bite. Or, worse, that she would have to drink.