The Bleeding Dusk (The Gardella Vampire Chronicles 3)

Max put the stake back with a soft clatter and glowered at Wayren. “I was not fit to be here, to wear the vis.”

“It was very difficult for her to lose you, someone she knows and trusts, during a time of such pain and upheaval.”

“Trusts? I hardly think she’s foolish enough to trust me any longer. And she was not alone. You were there, and Ilias, and others.”

Wayren stood abruptly. “That is true, Max. You’re right. She has taken over her role as Illa Gardella with little trouble. A bit of grief, perhaps, some sorrowful moments…but overall, she is an amazing Venator. It’s become her life. She’s made some difficult decisions. In fact, she insisted that no one know that Eustacia died by your hand—in order to protect you and your legacy. She carries on with her life as though unburdened with grief. It’s rather astonishing how well she has adapted to the sacrifices and changes this life has brought her.”

Wayren looked down at the little jar on the table, reaching to touch it with her slender finger. “I would like to take this, if you do not plan to use it, Max. Perhaps I can learn what it is that would sap your Venator powers while severing your ties to Lilith.”

“Take the damned thing.”

She picked it up and slipped it into a small pouch that dangled from her silver-link girdle. “I presume you will join us at the Consilium tonight, now that you have returned. And are wearing a vis bulla again.” Behind her square spectacles, she looked at him shrewdly.

Max picked up his favorite stake and traced the silver cross. Victoria had protected him. Bloody hell. “Of course I will be there. I am ever the dutiful soldier.”

Victoria was in a quandary by the time she reached Santo Quirinus late the next day.Having been awake until dawn, she’d slept well past noon and met up with the ladies Melly, Winnie, and Nilly over a lunch filled with raptures about the hospitality of the Tarruscellis, the lovely view of the extinguishing ceremony from their balcony, and regret that there would be very little society during the next forty days of Lent.

Oh, and sympathy for poor, dear Victoria, who’d been in bed the night through with the megrims and had thus missed the most riotous, beautiful, exciting night of all. How could she bear it?

Victoria explained that she’d borne the annoying headache rather well, knowing that the ladies weren’t inconvenienced by her illness. “And it is very unfortunate that I cannot remain here with you ladies this afternoon to hear all of your adventures,” she said, rising from the table, “but I promised to meet with a portrait artist about doing a new painting of Aunt Eustacia.”

“You poor dear,” Lady Winnie said, her pudgy fingers flashing rubies and emeralds as she patted Victoria’s smaller hand. “After being ill so often this last week, I should think you’d be able to rest instead of gallivanting off.”

“You still look a bit pale,” Lady Nilly added. “Perhaps a brighter color gown would serve better to pinken your complexion. I shall have my Rudgers have a word with your maid.”

Despite her hurry to get to the Consilium and tell Wayren about meeting Sebastian and Max last evening, Victoria’s smile was genuine. The ladies could be dithering and overbearing, but they had only her best interests—and those of her mother, of course—at heart.

“Perhaps we shall be gone before you return, if you are very late into the evening,” Lady Melly said. “The party…er…meeting begins at eight o’clock.”

“Party? But it’s Lent,” Victoria replied, trying to keep her lips from twitching. Yet she was relieved to hear of their plans. Anything to keep the ladies occupied, and from worrying over Aunt Eustacia’s personal effects, was fine in her book.

“It’s not a party,” Lady Nilly squeaked, her bright blue eyes wide with innocence and sparse lashes. “No, we wouldn’t go if it were a party. Of course not.”

“It’s a meeting,” the duchess added, nodding vigorously. “Definitely a meeting. With dinner. But no music or dancing.”

“How unfortunate that I couldn’t join you at your meeting,” Victoria replied, dropping her grip from the chair and taking that all-important first step away from the table. “But it’s probably best if I rest again tonight. You ladies have a wonderful time.”

“I’m certain we will,” Lady Melly said, smoothing the napkin in her lap. “I haven’t any idea why the Palombaras chose to have their par—meeting on Ash Wednesday, but—What is it, darling? Your head again? Benedicto, some tea for the young madam, please.”

“Palombara?” Victoria had swiveled from the door so quickly it was, indeed, partly her head that spun. Her mind was the other part. “Tell me about this party, Mama.”

“It isn’t a party at all,” Lady Winnie remonstrated. “Dear me, Victoria, have you not heard what we’ve been saying?”

“Never mind, Winnie. The pope hasn’t been here in Rome since the war, so you needn’t worry that he can hear you,” Lady Nilly returned, one charcoaled eyebrow arching.

“What’s this about the Palombaras?” Victoria asked again, a bit more insistently. And she sat back down. The Consilium would have to wait.

“To be sure, it may not be the Palombaras themselves who are hosting the…meeting,” Lady Melly said primly. She was twining one of the wispy curls that dangled along her cheek around her left index finger. “It’s quite exciting, really, Victoria. What a shame it is that you cannot attend. I’m not certain how many people will be there, though I doubt it will be such a crush as we might have seen back home, you know. After all, it is Ash Wednesday. Even though it isn’t a party.”

“But perhaps I won’t want to miss it, if you would please tell me what this meeting is.” Victoria noticed that her jaw was beginning to hurt, and she eased off before she cracked something. The strength of a Venator’s gritting teeth could have lasting effects.

“It would be delightful for you to attend,” Lady Winnie crowed, sounding rather unlike a duchess in that moment. “The family villa that has been closed off for decades is being opened tonight for a pa—meeting. It shall be an adventure, for the Palombara villa hasn’t been occupied for years, and the family has been gone and—”

“It will be rather like a treasure hunt,” Lady Nilly chirped. “They’ve invited only a select group of friends to help in the search, and the Tarruscellis insisted we join them.”