“What else was in the pool?” she asked softly as they stood, preparing to mount their horses.
“It felt like a small pyramid of some sort. That was the only other thing I found,” he said. “And I’m not sure what it is. I could take it out, but without knowing what it is or if it has powers, I think it best that we don’t. Perhaps Wayren will know, and we can retrieve it later. ”
“Each of us should take one of the rings then,” Victoria said quietly. “The last thing we need is for anyone to get all five of them together again and be able to breach the pool. ”
Sebastian agreed wholeheartedly and slipped his fingers around the band on his thumb. But it wouldn’t move. At all.
“What the bloody hell?” he muttered. He tried to pull another one off, the one that had seemed the loosest. It wouldn’t budge, not even to twist around his finger.
The rings were stuck fast to his skin.
Eighteen
A Parting of Ways
She hadn’t bitten him yet.
Max leaned against the wall, the silk coverings smooth over the rough stone beneath. His forehead pressed into the cloth, and he felt a long trickle of sweat roll down his spine.
Or perhaps it was blood.
He’d lost track, and allowed it all to ebb into a blur of memory rather than accept the reality.
“Come now, Maximilian,” came that hated voice. “Join me. You must be hungry. ”
Hungry? Food was the furthest thing from his mind.
All he wanted was fresh, cool air. Any color but red. Anything but heat and the sweet smell of roses. And the feel of her hands on his skin.
The wrist manacles clinked as she drew him away from the wall, reeling him toward her. He didn’t fight it, but took his time walking toward her, tall and easy.
Max had learned when to fight and when to submit. As long as she remained amused and didn’t become frustrated by his power and strength, he had a chance. The balance was delicate.
The problem was, he didn’t know how long he’d have to play the game. He could end it all at any moment… but there was always hope. Hope alternating with fear.
He didn’t want Victoria to come… yet he did. And he knew she would.
It was simpl
y a matter of when.
And, oh God… whether she’d succeed.
He prayed that she’d do the right thing, and close the portal first.
Please. Do not let this be for naught.
Lilith indicated for him to kneel at her side, and she leaned toward him, her mouth brushing his neck. As always, the revolting sensation of one hot, one cold lip smoothing over his skin made his stomach tighten. Her hands slid up the back of his scalp, threading into his hair.
“I think I won’t allow you to cut your hair again,” she murmured near his ear, playing with the ends that curled under his jaw. He remained impassive, despite the horrible slithering sensation under his skin. “I do like it long. We’ll have to let it grow a bit more. ”
That was a good sign, then. She didn’t plan to try to turn him anytime soon. At least until his hair was the length she required.
Thank God that the hair and nails of the undead didn’t grow.
“I know you think that she’ll come after you,” Lilith said companionably, her fingers smoothing over his chest. She avoided the vis bulla , and had forced him to remove the larger cross he’d been wearing earlier.
Now his only protection was the vis , and the four small vials of holy water secreted in each of the heels of his boots. The boots stood at one side of the chamber, near the pallet where he slept. He’d not had to resort to them yet, but once she bit him he would.