Rises The Night (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 2)

At the villa, however, Verbena insisted that Victoria repair to her chamber to be washed and changed instead of sending word over to Aunt Eustacia.

“Oliver’ll take a message to ’er while we get ye cleaned up.”

Victoria didn’t like to admit it, but she was shaken by her experience, and although she knew she would feel perfectly fine—physically—in the matter of a day or so, the memory of the vampires tearing at her amidst the fog and incense and inexorable chanting made her fingers shake and her stomach ball up in an ugly knot.

She slept after Verbena’s ministrations, and when she woke, it was hours later judging by the position of the sun outside her window. Victoria rolled out from under the light blanket and went to take a look at the damage.

She counted eight bite marks, and six more that were more like gouges, scoring like jagged ribbons into the skin of her neck and shoulders. The blood had been washed away, but the bruises had already begun to show dark purple and black beneath the marks. Victoria touched one of the bites and realized how close she’d come to dying.

She wondered what happened to the other women. Had they been torn apart or had they been set free after their trauma?

She couldn’t have saved them; she’d barely been able to save herself. But the knowledge that they’d faced a horrifying, painful death stabbed at her. She was a Venator. Her task was to save lives by stopping the demons and vampires from taking them. She’d failed last night.

She’d seen it happen and been powerless to stop it.

She’d been too late to save Polidori…but at least she’d tried.

But she hadn’t tried to save the women.

Pushing away from the mirror, Victoria washed her face with a bit of water, using damp hands to slick back the wisps of hair that had escaped from her braid while she was sleeping.

At the bottom of the stairs she met the Italian butler, a trusted member of Aunt Eustacia’s household, who gave a little bow and said, “Your aunt and two gentlemen have availed themselves of the parlor, signora.”

Two gentlemen?

Victoria hurried to the parlor and opened the door.

It wasn’t Max. “What are you doing here?” She stopped short inside the door.

“Bloody hell, Victoria!” Sebastian stood, starting toward her, then stopped in the middle of the room. “Your maid said you’d been hurt, but this is much worse than she indicated.”

“What is he doing here?” Victoria asked her aunt, ignoring Sebastian to sit down next to her on a divan. Of course she looked like hell. She’d been mauled by three vampires.

But he didn’t need to sound so blasted surprised. Or repulsed. And just because he looked as handsome and well-groomed as he always did, with his artfully tousled gilt curls and perfectly folded neck cloth…

“You had a very close call,” Aunt Eustacia told her, peering at the bites, even poking at one with her finger. “These are quite nasty, and even though you’re a Venator, these kinds of wounds can have consequences, cara. Your maid said she treated you with salted holy water; and I have something else that will help the bruising disappear.” She began to rummage in the small reticule she’d pulled from her wrist.

“We’re very glad you didn’t suffer any worse injuries,” Kritanu said in his soft voice. He reached over from the chair on which he sat and patted Victoria’s hand, ending with an affectionate squeeze. “And to answer your question, Monsieur Vioget arrived at your aunt’s villa late last night.”

Victoria turned to look at Sebastian, who had not stopped watching her since she came in the room, and raised her eyebrow in condescending query.

“I didn’t know where you were staying in Venice,” he explained, settling back in his seat in an obvious attempt to appear relaxed. He crossed his arms over his middle, the well-cut jacket straining gently over his broad shoulders. “But I did know how to reach your aunt and presumed she would put me in touch with you, particularly since I came with information I believe you will welcome. It’s unfortunate I arrived a day late, or I could likely have prevented your bloody mishap last evening.”

“And how is that?” Victoria asked. She was beginning to become weary of his sudden appearances and mysterious pronouncements. He always seemed to be obscuring something. Or trying to

get something.

“I could have told you that Nedas is in Rome, not here in Venice. And if you wish to infiltrate the Tutela in hopes of stopping him, you will not do so here in Venezia. And certainly not on the arm of Count Benedetto Alvisi.”

“And you waited until now to apprise me of this? Why did you not tell me this before I left London? In the carriage?” Her wounds throbbed along with the angry veins in her neck.

He spread his hands. “I did not know it at the time.”

“Victoria, do tell us what happened last night,” Aunt Eustacia interrupted. She closed arthritic fingers around her great-niece’s hand. They were chilly but strong, and her skin was soft and textured with thick weals of veins. “And here is some cream for your bites.”

With relief, Victoria turned from Sebastian and gave a detailed description of the Tutela meeting.

“So you went alone, without taking any precautions should something go wrong.”