He cried out, and the battering force lessened enough for Victoria to stumble backward, out of the whirlwind. Feeling a brick wall behind her, she pulled another bottle of water and shoved its contents toward him again, swinging her sword as the liquid sprayed.
Wet splashed in her face, blasted back by the wind, and her sword connected with something thick. Max. Again. This time, with horror on his face.
With a shout, she shoved the sword home, and sliced away, feeling as though she were cutting through a bog.
And then, suddenly, everything stilled.
The wind stopped, the fog was erased, and she was alone, panting, leaning against the wall. The demon was gone-whether she had killed him or merely driven him off, she wasn’t certain.
But she looked up and saw that the sky had darkened. What little light came from a lowering sun was obscured by clouds, leaving only a dull illumination over the small courtyard where she stood.
There would be no chance to use Tached’s Orb tonight, for the moonlight would be blocked. The demon had spoken the truth about that, at least.
Victoria tightened her fingers around the grip of her sword and glanced back toward the south, in the direction of Muntii Fagaras. Where Max was.
She swallowed as the urge to leave, to go after him, clawed through her anew. How much could she believe of Adolphus?
Anything? Anything at all?
He had spoken truthfully when he claimed Lilith was his enemy. It would be to his benefit if Lilith were dead…
Victoria was standing there, trembling, shaking against the need to go, when Michalas found her.
“I’ve seen no sign of him,” he said, looking at her curiously.
“That’s no matter,” she replied soberly, wondering how long she’d been here with the demon. “I found him. He’s gone for now. ” She looked up at the clouds. “There’s nothing we can do tonight. ”
And she returned reluctantly to the tavern for another night of doing nothing while Max suffered.
And possibly Sebastian with him.
Twenty-one
In Which Our Heroine Chafes at the Bit
There was no thought of sleeping that night, for a variety of reasons-the least of which was that Victoria absolutely couldn’t keep her eyes closed for more than a moment.
For a woman used to always doing , a day and night of sitting and waiting was like a personal hell.
Especially since those hours of nothing, nothing, nothing! gave her plenty of time to imagine Max in the hands of Lilith. The crafty demon had pulled all the terrible thoughts and images from the depths of Victoria’s mind, from where she’d stuffed them deeply so that she could concentrate on the matter at hand… He’d tugged them free, releasing them into full-blown terror, and now they constantly assaulted her.
Along with those images teased the secret he’d told her about Lilith. Was it true? Could something as simple as a stake of virgin ash paralyze the great vampiress?
Why would he lie about that?
To give her a reason to leave.
Or… to give her the weapon to destroy Lilith.
It tantalized her, that possibility.
There were no vampires to hunt in this small town, likely run off by the demons. And now that the sun had disappeared completely, the clouds hung heavy and thick, obscuring the moon so darkly that nary a whisper of a beam escaped. The night sat, dark and leaden, over the cemetery. Even the white gravestones appeared no lighter than the dark ground in which they sat.
Victoria had Tached’s Orb safely in her pocket, in the event that the clouds shifted and there was the chance to use it. But for now, she sat on her mount on the same small hill overlooking the cemetery. Watching. Waiting.
Hoping something happened.
The village clustered behind her, close enough that she could hear voices from the tavern, where Brim and Michalas remained. She’d instructed them to stay there, to watch the clouds and to come at the sign of any movement. They were close enough that she could call for them if something changed