His speed had returned, along with the powerful strength he was used to and the bare annoyance of discomfort, rather than the breathless slam of pain, over and over.
He wasn’t foolish enough to feel cocksure or lazy about the battle, of course. Especially with Victoria in the damn thick of it, and Lilith waiting somewhere deep inside like a skeletal black widow. But the pure pleasure of being whole again gave him even more power and capability.
The air was heady with undead ash, and the quiet explosions sounded like soft staccato beats in the confined area. From the corner of his eye, he caught the grace of Victoria’s lunge, and the smooth strike with her stake as she easily dispatched a Guardian vampire twice her size. She kicked out, pivoted, and then moved on to a different target. Thus reassured, Max made a low leap in the space and slammed into a cluster of undead, crashing them against the wall like puppets.
He lost himself in the fight. As it always did, everything seemed to slow around him, giving him ample time to thrust and kick, spin and stab before his opponents knew what struck them. His feet left the ground. He felt weightless and free as he dipped and glided low in the confined space.
They made headway, fighting the vampires back into the area of the hideaway where the passages branched off. Max knew that Lilith’s chambers were to the right, but he’d never been to the left or down the central passage.
As it turned out, he happened to be on the left side, well matched with an Imperial vampire whose blade thrust and gleamed wickedly. The Imperial flew low, and he and Max circled in the corridor, vacillating up and down and around along the left passage until the rest of the melee was behind them.
All the while Max lunged and whipped and turned, dodging and clashing with the Imperial, he was fully aware that Victoria was out of sight, clogged in the midst of the battle.
She is Illa Gardella.
He leapt and smashed his arm against the stone wall, for the passage had narrowed and settled lower. The Imperial laughed and swiped h
is blade up, scoring along Max’s right arm and drawing a long line of blood. The vampire’s eyes gleamed, and he lunged again. Max landed on the ground and somersaulted to his feet, surging up beneath the vampire as he came down. His upward motion sent the undead off balance, and Max helped him go, catapulting him into the wall with a ferocious shove.
She wears two vis.
The vampire crumpled to the ground, his sword clanging after him. Max bent forward and shoved the stake home, then whirled just in time to face his next attacker.
And so it went, one after the other, or two, or three, he pummeled and fought and tried not to think beyond the moment, trying to work his way back toward the main passageway.
When he finally dispatched the last undead foolish enough to come after him, Max dusted himself off, breathing heavily, and suddenly became aware of cries and shouts from behind him.
Turning, he saw that he’d been backed into an alcove ended by a heavy wooden door. A small barred window had been cut from the top, and he went to peer through it.
Inside thronged more than a dozen people, crying, wailing, pleading. Mortals. Lilith’s private storehouse of food.
“Christ,” he said, and began to tear down the door even as the prickling urge to find Victoria nagged at him. “Hold up. I’m here to help,” he called, even as he felt the presence of another undead behind him.
He readied his stake and turned.
Twenty-three
In Which Victoria Receives the Most Unpleasant of Surprises
Victoria lost sight of Max as she fought her way deeper into the caverns.
Brim slashed and stabbed nearby, and she caught a glimpse of Michalas’s red-blond curls once before she had to turn away and concentrate on her own battle.
The back of her neck burned as though ice slid over it, back and forth, without relief. Her back raged with pain from the claws and scrapes from last night, but as she moved more, it loosened and the discomfort faded to a throb.
She couldn’t and wouldn’t be distracted from her goal: Lilith.
In fact, as soon as Victoria had the chance, she slipped off to the side of the battle, snaring a handy vampire by the neck and whipping him around and against the stone wall in a natural little alcove. “Where is Lilith?” she demanded, poising the stake to strike.
“There,” he said without hesitation, pointing farther down the passage in which they stood. He had squinty piglike eyes that glowed red.
“And her prisoner? Beauregard’s grandson? Where is he?”
“There, too. ”
“Take me to them and I’ll spare you. Trick me and you’ll die. ” He might die anyway, but she’d worry about that later.
He nodded against her hand, and she released him from against the wall. Shoving him ahead of her, stake close at his back, she followed him down the passage.