Rises The Night (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 2)

That train of thought gave rise to another, and she began to search the small crowd of vampires for the Imperial she’d met at Claythorne. She didn’t see him, but she did recognize Regalado. His eyes were glowing red. He had been turned.

Victoria noticed his daughter, Sara, who remained unobtrusively in a corner with a hood half-drawn over her head and her eyes hidden, along with another hooded companion next to her. The only reason Victoria recognized Sara was that she’d tipped her face up for a moment to speak to Max, who stood on the stage.

At that point, Victoria realized the meeting, or whatever one would call it, had been called to order and that Nedas was talking. She also noticed that there was nothing in the vicinity that could be construed as being Akvan’s Obelisk. She didn’t really know what it looked like, but Wayren had given her the impression that it was a large obsidian object, certainly nothing that could easily be secreted in a pocket or under a cloak.

If they were here to activate Akvan’s Obelisk, where was it? Was it possible they’d been wrong about everything? Had he already done so?

“Tonight we welcome one of our own back to the fold. A Venator, who has proven his desire to return to us despite my suspicions to the contrary,” Nedas was saying. His voice, for all his power, was not so loud…yet it seemed to permeate every corner and cranny of the chamber, insidious as the evil that hung in its tones. Victoria found she didn’t have to strain to hear any of his words. “He has but one more task to prove his loyalty, and then he will take his place at my side. The addition of this Venator into my most secret ranks will be instrumental to our success, particularly with the power I will obtain tonight from Akvan’s Obelisk.”

He turned to Max, who now stood alone with him on the stage, and continued. “Despite the fact that you were once a Tutela member long ago, you turned away from our society and became our enemy, striking at us without regard, making a legend of yourself. When you came to me many months ago and indicated your desire to rejoin our ranks, I would have killed you on the spot.” His thin lips stretched in a malicious smile. “But when I saw that you bore the mark of my dear mother, that she had claimed you for her own, and learned she had sent you to us, I realized what an opportunity we had.

“A Tutela turned Venator turned Tutela. At last you have come home.”

Max stepped forward, gave a brief bow to Nedas, and said in an oily voice that Victoria barely recognized as his, “Great One, I am gratified you have taken me in and allowed me to prove my loyalty. The tasks you have set forth have not been simple or easy; in fact, I am aware that no one else in your ranks has been called to do what I have done. I realize it is penance for my disloyalty to the Tutela in joining the Venators all those years, and that it is only because o

f the wishes of your esteemed mother, Her Majesty, Queen Lilith, that I have been given the opportunity to rejoin your society. It is my hope that tonight this last task will remove any doubt from your mind that I am wholly and completely Tutela.”

Victoria watched, her emotions moving from horror to disbelief to hope. Surely, surely, this was all playacting—at least on Max’s part. He didn’t even sound like himself, even as he had been only days ago when they spoke.

But could Lilith really have sent him?

Her fingers were tight. All thoughts of the bow and wooden arrows had fled. A horrified fascination gripped her as she watched the tableau below. Her heart jolted rhythmically in her chest, and her throat was so dry that when she tried to swallow, it creaked.

Max, what are you doing?

A laugh came from below, from Nedas and Max, from some jest shared only between the two of them. And then Nedas, stepping away from the taller man, announced, “It is time! Where is that female Venator of whom you are so fond?”

Victoria’s body turned to ice, and her heart stopped beating for a full breath. Her stomach dropped and pitched nauseatingly, and though she knew she shouldn’t move, shouldn’t attract attention to her location, she turned to look at Sebastian, fury jetting through her. He was staring down at the scene below just as she had been. Fingers closing around the wooden arrow, she looked at him, ready to drive the wood into his human heart in reparation for this last trick of his.

But then she didn’t, for there was activity below. It was not directed up to where she was hiding. They were not storming the room and dashing about in search of her.

No.

Instead a small, slight figure in black had been shoved forward. She’d been standing next to Sara, there in the back of the room, both of them in matching black cloaks with hoods. Now that she came forward into the light, Victoria recognized her immediately.

Aunt Eustacia.

The female Venator they were expecting wasn’t Victoria, but her aunt.

She swallowed the gasp of surprise and stared down. Her aunt shook off the hands that had been manhandling her toward the stage, and walked proudly toward it. She moved through the small cluster of vampires and Tutela. Up three steps, onto the stage.

Victoria could hardly breathe. She dared not even blink.

Her aunt stood proudly, and as tall as her stature would allow. Her dark hair was pulled into its simple bun at the back of her head, not the ornate dressing she’d worn to the Consilium. The cloak fell away, revealing a black gown, and Victoria saw that her aunt’s hands seemed to be bound behind her.

“Nedas. At last we meet,” said Aunt Eustacia in a calm voice that carried to every corner of the room.

“At last. Unfortunately, the moment will be altogether too brief.” His smile was completely humorless.

“Any moment in your presence is too long for my taste. I pray daily for your demise, and that of your race.”

“How unfortunate for you that my desires will be answered long before yours will.”

Victoria watched, waiting, her breathing finally coming in short, shallow puffs. What should she do? Could she interfere in whatever was about to occur?

She looked at Max. His face was blank and more unreadable than ever. He stood square, tall, and foreboding, facing Aunt Eustacia and Nedas.

Max had a plan.