“He must be in love, Melly!” the duchess said, arching her brows. They were thick and wiry, and when she lifted them they looked as though they were trying to meld into one long, dark swath across her forehead. “He didn’t sign my card as Alberto. ”
“What a lovely name. ” Nilly sighed, clasping her skinny, blue-veined hands to her nonexistent bosom. “So Italian. So masculine! And the way one must roll one’s Rs when saying it…Alberrrrrrto. Alberrrrrrto. ”
“Nonsense. ” Melly broke in, Victoria noticed, only when the other two ladies seemed to have run out of raptures. “He was merely being kind. If he truly had developed a tendre for me, he would have come calling. At least Jellington knew enough to do that, although he certainly didn’t send flowers the first day after we’d met. ”
Victoria had listened to enough of their prattle; her mother was always in raptures over some beau or another, it seemed. The obsidian chip felt heavy in her pocket, and curiosity about Max’s health weighed on her mind. And she wished to speak with Wayren about all that had transpired last night as well. “I must excuse myself,” she said, standing. “I have an appointment with my…my Latin tutor,” she added, thinking that Wayren wouldn’t mind being called thus.
“Latin tutor?” her mother replied in astonishment. “But Victoria, why on earth would you wish to read Latin?”
“So that I can better study the histories of Rome as they are written,” she replied primly, and, having made a quick curtsy, glided toward the door as rapidly as possible. “You ladies have a lovely day today. I do not know if I shall see you this evening for supper, Mama, for my tutor has invited me to dine with her. ”
Victoria arrived at the Consilium late in the day, and the main chamber where the holy-water fountain glistened was empty and silent but for the sound of rushing water.
This was not unusual, for rarely were Venators at the Consilium unless there was a meeting or gathering of some kind. Most often there was no need for people to be there, and the fewer times Venators traveled to the Consilium, the less likely it would be discovered. Venators preferred to spend their time hunting vampires on the streets.
Even Wayren and Ilias were not always about, although they each had private apartments back in the depths of these catacombs. As well, Miro, Ylito, and the physician Hannever all had their own workshops nearby, in other parts of the underground property. But they rarely made an appearance in the main chamber or galleries.
Victoria was relieved that she was able to go immediately to the secret storage room near Wayren’s library. After all that had happened last night at the villa, combined with her haunting dream, she just wanted to make certain that the shard was still there, and safe. And she wanted to get the other, smaller piece hidden away before anyone else knew about it.
The fewer who did, the better. The safer.
Once inside the chamber Victoria closed the door, remembering last time when Max had sneaked up on her. After lighting a lamp on the table, she pulled the leather thong out of her pocket, the pendant dangling, jet black streaked with dark blue.
The shard she’d found still lay on the long, scarred wooden table where she’d left it. It didn’t appear to have even been moved, and for some reason that knowledge eased the deep-seated worry that had niggled at her since she’d a
wakened from her dream. The shard was safe, and now its smaller counterpart would be as well.
When she dropped the leather necklace onto the table, the two pieces of obsidian clinked dully, and a single blue spark between them startled her. A faint aroma like old smoke, blended with something putrid, reached her nose, but faded almost immediately, just as the spark died out.
Victoria picked up the leather cord and moved the pendant so that it wasn’t touching the shard any longer. Then, gingerly, she reached out to feel the bigger piece of obsidian. A sharp tingle zipped up her arm, blushing over her shoulder.
The feeling was similar to the sensation she experienced when she’d touched the smaller piece, but this was stronger, strong enough that she yanked her hand away. And she stared at the large splinter, sitting there like a chunk of black glass.
The shard looked like a weapon she would carry; it was ironic that the obsidian piece that exuded such malevolence was the same shape and size of an ash stake she’d use to destroy evil.
Of course, the source of this evil, Akvan, was not a vampire. Despite the fact that all demons—whether they be fallen angels from ages and ages ago, or half-human demons called vampires—came from Lucifer, they lived and died in different ways. Still, it was interesting that this particular piece could easily be carried as a Venator’s weapon.
What would happen if she did pick it up and use it as a stake? What would be the result of slamming this obsidian pike into a vampire’s chest? Or Akvan’s, for that matter?
Victoria smoothed her hand over the glasslike weapon, noticing that the tingle had lessened. There were no further sparks, but the shard was warm. Just slightly.
But perhaps that was from the friction and heat of her fingers.
She wondered, suddenly whether this was what Akvan had wanted from her. This shard. This piece of his power.
A piece of the power that had called him back to earth.
It was possible, likely, even. If he wanted the shard back, what better way than to send his minions after her?
First he’d sent Sara Regalado and her cohorts to lure her to the graveyard that night. They hadn’t tried to hurt Victoria, only to capture her. Perhaps they’d planned to bring her back to the villa, to Akvan, where he could demand that she produce the shard.
But how did he know she had it?
No one but Wayren, Ilias, and Ylito knew she’d found it. Even Max was unaware.
No one else except—
Victoria felt cold; then a blast of angry heat shuddered over her.