It was no surprise she was weak and hurting. Without her vis bulla, she was as helpless as a woman.
It had been more than a year, and already she’d forgotten how much she relied on the strength amulet, how much it ruled her life, and what freedom it gave her. Yes, she had removed it herself, but that had been voluntary, and temporary, and she’d been sequestered and safe.
This was terrifying.
She breathed and tried again to move her arms, and was surprised to find that she could. She was not restrained. Her legs, too, were free to shift and allow her feet to move around enough that she determined she had been deposited on the floor in some kind of room.
But why would they restrain her? She was no threat to them now.
No threat.
According to Max, she hadn’t been even before they took her vis bulla.
The renewal of her rage set her breathing off balance and her stomach feeling like a cannonball rested on it. Victoria had to stop and make herself consciously push away the venom.
She would deal with Max in time.
The first thing she must do was find a way out of here.
What time was it? Were they even now with Akvan’s Obelisk, releasing the full impact of its evil? The event that would, as Nedas had said, make Venators inconsequential?
Gingerly getting to her feet, using the wall for balance, Victoria tried to stand, but her knees and head would not cooperate. She sagged back to the floor, scraping her hand down the rough wall. It was as dark as it could get, and once she felt the stone wall and the cement beneath, she presumed she was in a cellar beneath the opera theater.
She crawled around the perimeter, bumping into something she recognized belatedly as a cot or large chair, and determined that two of the walls were stone and the other two wood, one of them with a door.
No sooner had she reached up to blindly locate the door handle and jiggle it in vain, than she heard what sounded like descending footsteps over her head, and she realized she was in a cubby under a staircase.
She didn’t have time to wonder whether the steps portended someone coming for her, for moments after they reached the bottom of the stairs, a cast of light glowed from underneath the door. Something jolted it, making a soft thump. And then the door opened.
Max slipped in and shut it behind him.
“You!” Weak though she was, Victoria launched herself at his feet, pulling up using his body and the wall for balance, the fury she’d held in check at his audacity in seeking her out bursting forth, giving her a wave of strength.
He held the lantern well away from himself, as though expecting her attack, and he let her land a few ineffective blows to his chest and face before snatching one of her arms in midair. “That’s enough, and for God’s sake, keep quiet,” he said, and bent to put the lantern down. “You’re wasting time and energy.” He grabbed her other wrist when she would have flailed it at him, knocking one of her kicking feet out from under her so that she lost her balance and remained upright only because he had her wrists in hand.
“How long have you been Tutela?” she hissed. “You are a traitor and a murderer.”
His face was expressionless. “You heard Nedas. I was Tutela before I was a Venator.”
“Will you murder me now?” she asked, ignoring the black spots that danced before her eyes and the way her body throbbed in pain. Weakness and fear shivered through her, but she would not allow him to see it. Her muscles trembled and she had to work to form the words. “What reward will Nedas give you for killing another Venator?”
He gave her a little shake that bobbled her head, then as if to collect himself, thrust her from him and stood away, looking down at her as she stumbled back onto the cot. “I have exactly ten mi
nutes to get you the hell out of here, or you will find yourself in a much less appetizing situation than your aunt. For Christ’s sake, you can’t even bloody stand, can you?”
This last comment was provoked by her attempt to do just that, pulling herself off the thin cot and using her hand to hold herself upright. He reached for her, and she twisted away, tipping back onto the floor in an ignominious heap. “Don’t touch me.”
He ignored her and unceremoniously yanked her to her feet, pushing her toward the cot. “Victoria, you have to get out of here. There is no time to play the woman scorned.”
“After I kill you, and Nedas too, I’ll be happy to leave this place.”
“Despite the fact that you can’t even stand, let alone kill anyone, you can’t slay Nedas. Not now,” he told her sharply. “There will be another time, but not now.” Long fingers were pulling at his white shirt, yanking it open, and Victoria gawked, trying to focus around the black dots that obscured her vision.
“What are you doing?”
“He’s already begun to activate the obelisk. He cannot be stopped. You’ll be needed afterward, Victoria. Think about that and not your need for vengeance, for it will soon be moot.” He moved toward her, and she shrank back from his tall, looming figure. She’d never been afraid of Max, but something in his expression, the determined, settled line of his mouth and the angry black eyes, made her want to scoot away.
But she was a Venator. Damn it, even without her vis bulla, she was a Venator.