When Twilight Burns (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 4)

He knew why.

Oh, he knew why, and the fact that he did made it all the more disgusting and loathsome.

Bad enough that she’d broken his trust . . . but even worse—so damned much worse—was that she’d felt the need to do it.

He forced his attention to the pattern of rosebud wallpaper on the wall and began to count the blooms.

The salvi had not completely relinquished its hold on him, or so it seemed . . . for he began to feel heavy-lidded in the eyes and weary in the muscles.

The next thing he knew, he was lying on the bed.

And Wayren was there.

She stood in the small room, tall and serene. Her beautiful elfin face bore traces of concern and also a hint of challenge. Thick silver-blonde hair hung, for once, unfettered by small braids or leather thongs. Simple, straight, melding into the pale gold of her gown, which seemed almost to glow. Her whole person seemed almost to glow. “Why do you fight it, Max?”

He sat up, still exhausted. “Get me out of here. ”

“I can’t do that. ”

“The hell you can’t. I’ve seen what you can do, Wayren. ” His head was splitting and pounding at the same time; it was a wonder he could form words.

She smiled, but there was a trace of sadness there. “You deserve happiness after so many years of darkness and self-recrimination. ”

“I can’t. ”

“You refuse to, Max. Let it all go and stop thinking about it. Stop denying yourself. ”

“I won’t. ”

“She loves you. ”

“She loves Vioget. ”

Wayren nodded briefly. “Yes, she does. ”

Max closed his eyes. When he opened them, she was gone.

“Get me out of here!” he said to the empty room.

“You must do that on your own. ” Wayren’s voice penetrated . . . from somewhere.

And then Max woke up.

Victoria opened her eyes.

Her first impression was of a warm room, filled with dancing red and orange lights. Smelling of roses. The back of her neck was unbearably frigid and the stone wall close to her nose was immediately recognizable to her. She was in the subterranean abbey Sebastian had shown her, lying in the exact place she’d found Briyani’s body.

“Ah, at last. Our guest awakens. ”

Victoria realized she was lying crumpled on the ground, and, from the feel of the intense ache throughout her body, flung there like a sack of grain. Unfortunately, beyond the radiating aches, there was no uncomfortable, hard roundness under her hip or leg that would indicate the presence of her stake. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again, focused . . . and pulled herself up on her hands, then her knees, and then proudly to her feet. The ache and lingering weakness ebbed into nothing, and she felt a surge of power when she concentrated on the vis bullae, groping for them through the special slit in her gown.

She hadn’t needed to concentrate on the power of the vis bulla for a long time, but now she was flooded with it.

As her mind started to work more sharply, her first thought was of James. Had he been part of the trap, or an unwitting accomplice?

She turned to face Lilith, who had been silent since her greeting.

The room looked much more comfortable than it had when she and Sebastian were there. Fires roared in massive saucers throughout the room, giving off the reddish glow and warmth Victoria had first noticed. There must be some kind of ventilation that allowed the smoke up and out, as in the Consilium. A rug lined the stones in the center of the room.