Rises The Night (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 2)

“The Tutela is a secret society, an ancient one. Hundreds of years old, as I’ve heard it told. Started in Rome, probably in the catacombs right next to the Christians if you can believe the irony.”

Standing across the balcony from her, he shrugged off his coat, letting the dark material crumple into the shadows at his feet. Now his white shirt, tied at the throat but not finished with a cravat, caught the moonlight and fairly glowed in the darkness that was his backdrop. “Oh, do not fear, I am not preparing to ravage you. This jacket is rather stifling, and it’s not as if you haven’t seen my shirtsleeves in the past.”

Instead of the grin she expected, he merely gave her a look that sent her stomach pitching sharply. Deliciously. When she made no response, he continued, “The Tutela protect vampires.” He unfastened the wrists of his shirt with great nonchalance. “They have done so for centuries.”

“Protect them? How? Like offering an establishment where the vampires can come and drink with mortals?” Victoria replied archly.

Although his broad shoulders and darker, muscled arms glowed in the moonlight as he rolled up his sleeves, his face was in shadow again. How did he manage to do that—show off his physique while hiding his expression?

Or perhaps it was merely that Victoria could not help but notice the way his shirt clung to his waist and molded the very same shoulders she had had occasion to hold on to. And perhaps she didn’t really want to know what was going on inside his head.

“Now there you go, bordering on insult again, my dear. Surely your aunt has taught you better than that. No, the Tutela’s purpose leans more toward providing mortals for vampires to feed upon. Bringing innocent people to the undead for their pleasure and nourishment. All the while gadding about during the day and protecting the interests and secrecy of the vampires while they stay safe in the darkness. Doing the evil work that the undead cannot, or will not, do in an effort to stabilize and increase their power. Members of the Tutela are the whores of the undead.”

“But why? Why would anyone do that?”

Sebastian shook his head. “Such an innocent you are still, even with all you’ve experienced and seen. I don’t know if I would wish for that to change or not.” He braced his hands back on the rail. “There are some people who yearn for immortality. Who find pleasure in being fed upon by an undead. Who believe that if they protect the vampires, they in turn will be protected from the evils in this world.”

The flash of a memory stunned her. Bodies, bloody and ravaged, mutilated from the neck to the legs…the blank eyes, the gashes below the jaws, the tears in the chests, the rank, dull smell of blood. The sight she’d faced after the only time she’d been too late to stop a vampire raid last summer, shortly after she and Phillip had been married. It still had the power to send oily nausea into the back of her throat.

When she relived that image, she could not understand—could not fathom—how any man or woman could protect such creatures, let alone fraternize or mingle with them. “I cannot comprehend it,” she finally said, when the memory eased and the silence had stretched long enough.

Perhaps the tone of her voice held more than a little accusation, for Sebastian felt the need to defend himself. “Victoria, I kept The Silver Chalice as a vehicle to allow the undead to congregate so any important information might be gleaned from them while in their social moods. As I said to you before, I prefer to have them where I can see them and spy on them rather than have no idea what they plan. I am not, and never was, a member of the Tutela. Regardless of any of my other actions, I hope you believe at least that of me.”

She couldn’t see his face, blast it! How could she know what to think? “Move into the light, where I can see you.”

“My pleasure.” He stepped away from the balcony, but didn’t stop at one or two, or even three paces. He stopped when he had her upper arms in his hands, his boots touching her slippers. “Victoria.” The subtle French in his voice hung on the syllables, and her breath stilled.

He bent toward her and she closed her eyes, waited. It had been over a year since a man’s hands had been on her. A year since she’d been touched with any affection or sensuality. She’d given no thought to how much of a dearth it made in her life. But now she knew.

A tiny huff of breath escaped her lips before he brushed his mouth over hers, back, and then again. Fitted to her lips just perfectly, just enough that her fingers wanted to close over his arms.

And then he pulled away, released her, and opened his eyes. For the first time that night she read the message there, and it made her want to step away…or drag him back for more.

He was back to his cool, charming self. “Don’t believe for one moment I didn’t want more than that little taste of you, Victoria,” he said lightly, as though to deny the fact. “But there are more pressing matters to discuss.”

“Pressing matters?”

As if shaking off a slumber, he turned and paced back along the balcony, rolling up a sleeve that had fallen back to his wrist. “Since you found the amulet at the Chalice, that means someone involved with the Tutela was there…likely the demon or vampire you killed, or perhaps both. There are no other vampires in London, are there?”

“When I left this morning, it was after two weeks of patrolling every night. I found the demon and vampire at the ruins of the Chalice, and I saw one other vampire, who got away…and no others. Lilith has not returned.” She looked up at him in question. “I don’t know where you’ve been for the last year, Sebastian, but you may not be aware that Lilith took her followers and returned to her hideaway in the mountains after she did not succeed in getting the Book of Antwartha.”

“I am aware of that, although I have not been in England. I made my way to the Continent quite rapidly after my visit from the vampires at the pub.” He looked out over the gardens below, then turned back to Victoria. “They’re looking for Polidori. And someone is here. Someone from the Tutela. Someone must have dropped that amulet. But there aren’t any vampires here, are there?”

“No, there aren’t. Nor demons either, I don’t believe.”

“You can sense demons as well, then. Good. Polidori will be relieved to hear that.”

“Are you going to tell me why they’re after him? Or shall I guess?”

His charming smile was back. “I’m certain it won’t be difficult for you to figure out.”

“It must be his book. The Vampyre. It reveals too much about the truth of vampires. And you’re traveling with him for what reason? Surely not to protect him.”

“Now, Victoria…do not besmirch my capabilities—particularly since you aren’t acquainted with the vast array of my talents.” What little seriousness was left on his face shifted away, and his eyes locked on hers. “Though it is not for lack of desire on my part that you remain uneducated about them.

“At any rate, yes, I met Polidori in Italy. Byron dismissed him from his service, not because he didn’t need a physician any longer, but because he was afraid for his life.” He sighed. “I will let John tell you the story; he has all of the details. Suffice to say, I do not expect this to be a quiet and safe house party. Someone is here from the Tutela. Whoever it is, they will be after Polidori, and I should not be far from him until we determine who it is.”

“Why doesn’t the doctor just leave?”