“Dead?” Max’s voice held rare surprise. “Truly?”
“Dead by Victoria’s hand, of course. Did you ever doubt the woman could do what she set out to?” If it hadn’t been for the terrible situation moments earlier, Victoria wouldn’t have known Sebastian was changed, for he replied in the same offhand fashion he might have if this conversation had happened two months ago.
His blank-eyed look had disappeared, likely because Lilith no longer existed to hold thrall over him, and he seemed more conscious of his surroundings.
With that revelation, Max seemed to have the courage to look at her, and when he did, his brutal expression became darker. “Christ, Victoria, cover yourself. ”
She looked down and realized that her tattered shirt exposed half of her chest, including one breast-with the other fairly ready to pop out of its sagging bindings if she were to raise a stake. She was amazed at the amount of blood streaking her skin and shirt, and as she gathered the pieces together as well as she could, she glanced up at Sebastian.
His eyes had narrowed, and she saw the beginning of a glow starting there. His breathing quickened just a bit, his lips parted.
“Sebastian,” she said sharply.
Her former lover looked at her, and she felt the faintest tug there in his eyes. More than a simple tease.
“He needs to drink,” came a familiar-but wholly unexpected-voice.
Victoria turned to look and saw Wayren standing there. She didn’t bother to express her surprise or delight at the woman’s presence. There was no point in doing so.
“He needs blood,” said Wayren, moving into the center of the room. She looked around as though curious about the lair that had belonged to the demonic Lilith. Victoria supposed that wasn’t terribly surprising for a scholarly angel.
“I am feeling a bit… deprived,” Sebastian said. “I think I must feed, and soon. A revolting but wholly necessary aspect of my new… shall we say… life?” His lips twisted unpleasantly, then smoothed into a self-deprecating smile. “I do apologize for the previous… scene, Victoria. My base emotions got away from me. ”
Though he spoke lightly, she saw a combination of hunger and disappointment in his face. Victoria gave a little shiver. Sebastian had a difficult path ahead of him, if he chose to remain as he was. Had he truly chosen this?
Wouldn’t it be best to put him out of his misery before he gave in to his urges? Save his soul, as she’d done for Phillip? She hefted the stake in her hand, ready to put it to use.
At that moment, Michalas charged into the chamber, stake drawn. Brim came at his heels. When they saw the tableau, both stopped and gave little bows to the ageless blond woman.
And then Michalas asked what Victoria had declined to: “Wayren, how did you come to be here?”
The angel gave him a beatific smile. “I knew it was time. Sebastian needed me. ”
Max stifled a snort, and Victoria could imagine what he was thinking. A vampire in need of an angel’s guidance. A bloody understatement.
Wayren shot Max a glance that did what Victoria had been unable to do: wipe the arrogance from his expression. Then her pale face smoothed, and she said to the newcomers, “If you haven’t recognized it from the chill at the back of your necks, Sebastian has allowed himself to be turned. He needs blood, or Victoria will continue to need to defend herself from him. Michalas?”
If Michalas thought that an odd request for a Venator, he didn’t show it. And in fact, as he disappeared from the chamber-presumably to find something for Sebastian to drink-Wayren turned to the rest of them. “Sebastian accepted this change willingly, unlike you, Victoria, when you were faced with the same. The situation is wholly different from your battle with Beauregard. There is a purpose for it. ”
Victoria nodded, remembering awakening from the slumber after nearly being turned undead to find Max with a stake, ready to plunge it into her heart. She would do the same for Sebastian-in fact, would have already done so if she hadn’t needed to understand why. To make certain he’d completed whatever task he’d set out to.
“He didn’t have to be turned,” she said, speaking what had been on her mind. “He might have offered himself in Max’s place, but come ready to… take care of himself. ”
“To die, rather than be turned,” Max said. “As I’d been prepared to do if necessary. ”
Wayren stepped near Sebastian, who seemed to be made a bit uncomfortable by her proximity. “He chose this path as a sacrifice. By putting himself in Max’s place, he gave up his freedom, and then he gave up his soul in exchange for Giulia’s. She’ll be released from her damnation once his task is finished. ”
“His task?” Victoria asked. “Can we not just stake him now so that he won’t be tempted again?”
“Er,” Sebastian interrupted, “I prefer not to have my demise, such as it would be, discussed so casually. But I do have a question, Wayren, if I may. I read Rosamunde’s prophecy, and understand that it did-or could-apply to me. But how long is this ‘long promise’ and when might my task be done?”
Wayren smiled, and the warmth of it seemed to flood the room… not in the same sweltering, suffocating way that Lilith’s fires and presence had done, but in a soft, pleasing manner. “You’ll know when it is time,” she told him. “But I suspect the Venators will have need of and welcome your assistance for a century or more. Particularly since my time has now come to leave them and return to my place. ”
Victoria looked at her. “Yo
u’ll be leaving us?”
“And Vioget is to take your place as adviser?” Max sounded exactly as if it had been suggested that he, too, might join Sebastian in a state of undeadness.