She didn’t know. She didn’t want to know.
And then there was Max. And Lilith. And her control over him, her obsession with him. The flat expression in his eyes could hide much horror.
Victoria swallowed hard, shoved the thoughts away and concentrated on the chill at the back of her neck. Stupid to allow her mind to open to such repugnant ideas. They only served to weaken and distract her.
And she wouldn’t wait any longer.
None of the pedestrians on the street around her seemed to notice when she lifted the latch on the iron gate and slipped through, then down the steps. It stank of urine and damp, and she found she needed to take care to avoid stepping on unpleasant substances as she descended. It certainly no longer reminded her of Sebastian’s clean and well-run Chalice.
The stairs went down below the earth, down, down, down so far that no sunlight filtered down the spiral stairs. When at last the steps ended, she saw a single horse symbol carved on the wall in front of her, next to a door. The Lone Horse.
The black door had an old-fashioned string latch. The string hung outside, and she pulled on it to lift the small wooden bar inside. The door opened with only a gentle shove, grating across a packed-dirt floor.
To her surprise, Victoria found herself in an establishment more than reminiscent of the Silver Chalice. Wooden tables and chairs lined the space, all fashioned of scarred, smooth, hand-worn maple. Lamps burned from the walls, and a fire in one corner brought a bit of warmth to the underground chill. The place smelled like sweat, damp soil, ale, and… blood.
There was no mistake; Victoria definitely knew bloodscent. Several patrons sat with various cups of libation in front of them, and she didn’t need to look closely to know what the beverage of choice was. A piano stood in the corner, being badly played by a woman with wheat-colored hair. A small counter laden with bottles edged up into the corner of the room, with a man tending to them. The low ceiling was lined with heavy beams between which Victoria could see roots growing.
And the back of her neck felt as though a pack of ice sat there.
Vampires everywhere.
Most of them looked up, showing burning red or pink eyes, lifting a lip to display the point of a fang. None of them, fortunately, glowed red-violet. Victoria wasn’t in the mood to fight an Imperial vampire, the type that was the oldest and most powerful of the undead. She wanted to make this a simple exercise: Get the ring, slay Katerina if necessary, and get back to Anton?n.
One of the vampires made the mistake of standing up and lunging for Victoria as she looked in the other direction. A quick shunt of her stake arm, and the foolish creature poofed into dust.
“That wasn’t a very polite way to greet a newcomer,” Victoria said to the room at large.
The lustful faces that had risen to look at her-fresh, young blood that she was-immediately dropped to look down at the cups on the tables in front of them, as if hoping that by ignoring her, she would ignore them.
For now she would. But only because she had other matters to attend to.
And as she swept the room with her gaze, she saw what appeared to be those other matters in a far corner. Victoria cast a sharp look at a vampire in her path. He moved and she scooted past him to the dark corner where Sebastian seemed to be attempting to extricate himself from a bit of difficulty.
“But, Katerina, ch?re ,” he was saying as Victoria approached. “Can we not let bygones be bygones? It was more than eight years ago. ”
“Eight years?” repeated a tall, stout woman; presumably Katerina. She’d backed Sebastian up against the wall with a meaty hand, stabbing a finger in the middle of his chest. Though Sebastian had a stake in his hand, she didn’t pay it any attention. “Eight years ain’ barely a breath ago for someone living forever, Sebastian Vioget. ”
“But surely you didn’t truly miss those casks-”
“Casks of the best French brandy? Casks I paid overmuch for?” shrieked Katerina, drilling her finger into his chest. Her nail must be sharp, for Victoria saw red blossom beneath Sebastian’s snowy shirt. Yet his charming smile didn’t falter. “You’re knowing as well as I that calf’s blood is all well and good for the likes of some customers, but the ones who pay well are expecting something even better. Are you knowing what business I lost when I couldn’t serve them?”
Sebastian gave a little laugh. “But I see that business is flourishing now. And aside of that-”
“I do hope I’m not interrupting,” Victoria said in unapologetic tones as she pushed over to stand next to them.
Katerina turned, but did not remove her hand from Sebastian, who gave Victoria a rueful smile. “Who are you?”
“I am Illa Gardella, and I’m here because you have something I require. ”
“If it’s him,” she said, with a jerk of her head at Sebastian, “you have to wait a moment until I’m finished. ”
“Now don’t be silly, Katerina,” said Sebastian, moving quickly and smoothly to get out from under her grip. “You know I prefer not to hurt a woman, but I will if I must. I intended to apologize, but if you won’t accept it, then it’s none of my concern. ” He smoothed his rumpled coat and brushed off dirt that had crumbled onto him from the ceiling above. “As far as I’m concerned, you owed me those casks. ”
Katerina, who had been blessed with a full head of bla
ck hair and pancakelike breasts during her mortal days, glared at him, her hands on her hips. She stood more than a head taller than Sebastian, and the top of her skull brushed the ceiling… hence the dusting of dirt that followed her every movement.
“I swore if I ever laid eyes on you again, I’d be squeezing every last koruna from you to pay for that brandy. ” She tightened her ham-sized fists as though to put her words to action. “It was a years’ worth of income for me to buy them. And you taking them off with you to London was a dirty trick. ”