Rises The Night (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 2)

Victoria repeated their brief conversations and watched her aunt’s expression. It remained neutral, even as she replied, “I would never believe Max has forsaken us. He must be involved in something.”

“Of course—he’s involved with Sara Regalado. He’s in love.” Victoria was beginning to wonder if it might actually be true. “He has no time for us anymore. He’s been too busy even to let you know he is alive.”

Aunt Eustacia slanted her a narrow glance. “I cannot tell you the number of times I had a similar conversation with him last year when you were intent upon marrying Phillip, cara. I told him then as I tell you now: we must trust he will manage all of his obligations. There is no stricture that says a Venator can’t marry.”

“But I did not forsake my duty!”

“And you do not know Max has either, Victoria. For all you know, he’s been hunting vampires every night, and finding a way into the Tutela at the same time. Perhaps you will have an opportunity to speak with him tomorrow night at the opera. It is very promising that you have made friends with Regalado’s daughter.”

“Indeed. And with or without Max, I intend to do what I can to find out more about Conte Regalado and his Tutela. His wife died many years ago, and he is not married. And,” Victoria added, recalling the nipples in his painting, “he seems to appreciate women. Perhaps I shall flirt outrageously with him.”

Aunt Eustacia nodded. “Very good, cara. I know you shall take care, and I hope you will have some news to report shortly.” She sighed. “I confess, I’m filled with worry. And Wayren, who has been

here in Roma since she left London, shares my concern. Nedas has the obelisk, and it is only a matter of time until he has control of its power. We do not know when or where, although Wayren is studying her books and scrolls to see if she can find any prophecy or description of how or where. At this time, you are the only one we can rely on to find out. The other Venators here in Roma, and even in Italia, are too well-known and would be recognized immediately by the Tutela. Your advantage is that you are a woman, and you are not well-known. When they speak of the woman Venator, they think of me and only me.”

“Unless they realized I was a Venator during the events in Venice,” Victoria reminded her.

“It is possible, but not probable. You killed the only vampire that named you thus, and the rest of them would not have lived to see you fight so well or so strongly. We must use this advantage as long as we can. Vero, they know my niece is a Venator, but they do not know who you are and what you look like, or that you are here in Roma. So it is important you are not seen with me, and you are not observed fighting a vampire anywhere. For any reason.” She looked at her fiercely. “Do you understand?”

“I could not stand by and watch a vampire maul another person,” Victoria replied, thinking of the events in Venice. “It is not in my nature.”

“You must. You must act like any other female should you come face-to-face with one.”

“Aunt Eustacia—”

“Victoria, you will obey me in this. There are some times when an individual sacrifice must be made to protect the greater good. I know.” Her eyes saddened. “I know this, Victoria, for I have seen it happen. You must learn to think about the larger event instead of the singular moment in which you breathe.”

Victoria pressed her lips together, but nodded. She didn’t know if she could stand by and let the worst happen, but she would try if the circumstances called for it.

“We must find a way to stop Nedas. The more information you can obtain, the better we can plan for such an event. Perhaps we will have to find a way to steal the obelisk, if he has already begun to activate it.” Aunt Eustacia shook her head. “I will leave you now to your training. I’ll contact you the morning after the opera. There is no need for you to send for me. I know better how to move with subterfuge here in Roma. And do not worry about Max. All will be fine.”

But Victoria did not believe her. She had seen the change as they talked, how the lines had deepened in her face, and the way her eyes had become shadowed, and she knew Aunt Eustacia didn’t even believe herself.

+ 17 +

In Which Maximilian Considers Gardening

* * *

“It has happened before, Eustacia,” Wayren told her. “Much to my dismay, I will confirm it. We have lost Venators to the lure of the vampire. As there have been in every battle throughout history, there have been traitors to us as well.”

“That may be, but Max? After what he’s done? No. There is some other explanation.”

Wayren looked as remote as Eustacia felt numb. “I wouldn’t believe it either…but recall his history. And that he still fights Lilith’s thrall; that her bites still burn on him. It is a horrible battle for him that can arise and weaken him unexpectedly.”

“He has learned to distance himself from it. At times.”

“I know it. He is a fiercely strong man. But I fear if any Venator could be turned to the Tutela, he would be a likely candidate—if only because of his ties to Lilith, as horrific and unwelcome as they are. Since she Marked him the first time years ago, those bites have not healed, and she tries to exert her control over him. Last year when she fed on him again, it only strengthened those ties. So far he’s been able to resist, but anything can happen. There are no absolutes.” Despite her grave pronouncements, she looked serene and ethereal, as she always did—as she had from the day Eustacia had met her nearly sixty years ago.

Somehow, Wayren was always there when she needed her. She was the wisest person Eustacia had ever met, and she never lied. In spite of what she’d just said, that was an absolute.

Wayren had seen so much over the years. Perhaps nothing was shocking to her.

“It’s possible he will seek you out now that he knows Victoria is in Rome. There may be a reason he won’t communicate with her.” Her pale blond hair, which framed her face with four braids as narrow as a child’s finger, fell down over her shoulders and into her lap. The braids were tied with delicate gold chains, and from each one hung a pearl the size of a pea.

Eustacia nodded, feeling old and inelegant. “That is possible. Have you found anything else that might be of help to us? And do you know where Lilith is?”

Wayren fumbled in her ever-present leather satchel and pulled out a sheaf of curling papers. Placing in their position the square spectacles she always wore when reading, she began to flip through the pages.