When Akvan’s haunch-size hand lashed out, Max took the opportunity to dive to the ground, his hands busy under his long coat as he rolled. The demon grasped him by the arm and hauled him easily onto the dais as Max winced, pretending to hold an injured arm.
“Tell me where the shard is!” demanded Akvan, his breath spewing a hot, sickly death-smell over Max’s face.
“It is here!” Max said, whipping his arm from beneath the folds of his coat and plunging the shard into Akvan’s chest as if he were staking a vampire.
The demon shrieked, his eyes goggling, his mouth gaping; but Max didn’t hesitate. He was already pulling the short sword from his other trouser leg and, as the demon remained paralyzed by the stab of the shard, he sliced through his meaty neck with a blade barely long enough for the job, and then he turned to the pile of splinters.
Everything happened so quickly that before anyone in the room could react, he had the time to dump the table and its cache of obsidian, as well as the splinter necklace, onto the shriveling, blackening mass of Akvan as the demon bubbled into the floor.
But no sooner had he done that, letting every piece of the obelisk melt into its maker, than Max was turning to defend himself from the hoard of guards that descended upon him.
He didn’t know who was a vampire and who was a man, and therefore what weapon to use against each—but the question became moot as a massive explosion erupted from the back of the room, sending scatters of stone blasting through the air. At last, Briyani!
Max took advantage of the distraction to slip away from the red-eyed creature he’d been battling, using the cover of the sudden smoke to duck low and scuttle his way toward that end of the chamber. Their plan was to meet outside of the room if possible, with Michalas rushing to meet them as soon as he heard the explosion.
He ran into something small and soft, and from the familiar grasping fingers knew it was Sara. She was still a mortal, misguided as she was, but a mortal. Instead of shaking her off, as he wanted to do, he dragged her after him through the smoke and over the piles of rubble, past the bodies buried under it, and out into the hall. Smoke filled the passageway, but when he felt the grasp of sure fingers on his arm, he turned and recognized Briyani.
His face was covered with soot, but his white teeth shone in a complacent smile…and as Max turned to follow him, Michalas emerged from the darkness too.
“Come,” he said, leading the way. Max followed, and as they hurried down the hall, Michalas turned twice more and lobbed something behind him. Explosions followed them, and a sudden loud rumbling told Max that something had finally collapsed the ceiling behind them. The whole villa was going to come down.
“Run!”
They ran, the smell of stone dust billowing through the narrow hall behind them as the ceiling caved bit by bit, each topple bringing down the section after it. He still had Sara by the arm, and she was running as fast as they were, even in her skirts.
They finally reached the cell and burst into the secret laboratory, then more slowly through the Door of Alchemy and out into the night that had fallen.
“You killed him,” Sara said as Max flung off her grasping hands. “How did you do that? It was against the writings of the Shah-Nameh that a Venator could hurt him! It is never wrong. ”
He ignored her, looking over the wall that housed the Door of Alchemy. Half of the villa had collapsed in upon itself, sending puffs of smoke that were visible even in the low moonlight.
“How, Max?”
“Let’s go,” he said, turning to Michalas and Briyani. “We’ve finished here. ”
Without another word or glance he turned and they started off, leaving Sara Regalado staring after them.
“How?” she called again. “At least tell me that, Max. ”
He kept walking away. He would never see her again. Never deal with this again.
His chest was tight. It was over.
Sebastian cursed as he opened his eyes. At least, one eye. The other one was swollen shut. His shirt was wet with blood, and he felt as if a cart had driven over him, more than once. What had he done to himself?Then his eyes widened, even the painful one, and he scrambled to his feet.
Good God.
Victoria.
He was unsteady, but he’d felt worse before, and the throbbing didn’t stop him from rushing toward the door of the room in which he’d been tossed. It was one of the extra chambers that Beauregard used, and Sebastian’s immediate fear that he’d been locked in was unfounded, for the door opened easily. The hallway was empty, and Sebastian hurried out and down the passageway, refusing to think about what he would find.
Gardriel and Hugh, two massive vampires particularly loyal to Beauregard, stood outside the door to his private chamber—not the one with the harpsichord, but one adjoining it through yet another hidden door. Sebastian, however, was fast and determined, and managed to push his way in.
As strong hands locked around his upper biceps, whipping him back to a halt, he stared at the scene before him. His vision dimmed at the edges as he gave a single, futile jerk to try to free himself. “No. ”
His grandfather looked up casually from where he reclined on the large, pillow-strewn bed, stroking Victoria’s dark hair. It was long, and rich and thick, and it covered her bare shoulders, streaming over the lush red velvet bedding. Her skin was white, pale in the light cast from a roaring fire—a comfort for her, not for Beauregard—and her mouth was curved in a sensual smile. She looked at Sebastian from her position curled up with his grandfather. Her eyes were horribly bright and seemed deep in her skull.
“You’ve arrived rather more quickly than I anticipated. ”