Rises The Night (Page 19)

Her trick worked. She heard footsteps coming back down the stairs and hoped only one had peeled away from the group.

Luck was on her side, for it was not only a single vampire who made his way from the bottom of the stairs toward her, but a Guardian and not an Imperial.

She stood in the hallway, backing toward one side, as he advanced toward her. The sharp metal edges of the crucifix edged into her palm. "I am sorry, sir," she stammered. "I did not mean to disturb… Oh!" She kept the puff of her scream low and soft—no need to draw any other members of the household into the trap—and her stake-filled hand behind the fold of her skirt.

The vampire moved toward her, a glint of humor in the glow of his pink-red eyes. "You did not disturb me," he replied in a grating voice as he reached for her. "But I might find it satisfying to disturb you, my dear." His fangs, long and silvery in the dim light, bared in a satisfied smile. "I have a task tonight, but it is hard to pass up the fresh blood of a beautiful young lady."

Pretending to jerk away in fright, Victoria pivoted, stepping aside so that he did not grasp the arm where she held the stake. Instead he laughed and easily caught at her forearm where it angled over her bosom, holding the cross beneath it.

They had moved down the hallway, toward the back of the house where the kitchens were, and far enough away from the stairs that the other vampires wouldn’t hear the details of their altercation.

"If you taste good enough, perhaps I will give you the gift of immortality," he said with a condescending smile. "Then you shall always be as young and beautiful as you are now, with your long dark hair and creamy skin. What a lovely white neck you have—so long and slender and delicate—"

It all happened quickly: He caught her wrist; she released the cross and allowed him to pull her arm toward him, baring the crucifix to his sight. His grip faltered and he jerked back as though stung, making his chest vulnerable. Victoria struck.

A tiny pop, followed by a poof, and the garrulous vampire disappeared in a satisfying gust of dust.

Victoria couldn’t help a grin—she couldn’t have choreographed it any better. But before she went haring off after the others, she waited for a moment, listening. If she were lucky, one of the other three vampires would separate from the group to come back and check on the Guardian, giving her the chance to surprise him too.

But after she waited for several breaths and heard nothing, Victoria knew she had no more time to waste. Once again hurrying on light feet, she jogged back down the hallway to the grand foyer and up the sweeping staircase. She was only halfway up the first flight when a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the house… from below.

Blast it!

What now?

The vampires were upstairs, surely Polidori was upstairs, but something was happening below…

Victoria stumbled to a pause at the top of the stairs, forcing herself to wait and try to determine where the danger was. Her neck was cold and her instincts told her to go on upward… but the scream echoed through the house again.

Footsteps sounded, doors slammed, and suddenly people were erupting in the hallway.

"What is it?"

"Who is hurt?"

"Lady Rockley, is that you?" This last was addressed to her by a man in a nightshirt with spindly knees, his gray curls flattened to one side of his head. She couldn’t recall his name—he was a guest of Gwendolyn’s father—and she did not have the time to respond politely.

"Get back to your rooms!" she shouted, pushing past him and starting up the second flight of stairs. "Lock the doors!" Locked doors wouldn’t protect them forever, but they would at least slow down the vampires. She hoped.

"What is it, Victoria?" Gwendolyn’s voice came, high-pitched, from the landing above. "What are you doing?"

"Get in your rooms! Lock the doors, and get a cross or a Bible!" Victoria pushed past her friend, who tried to clutch at the tail of her pelisse as she ran past. "Gwendolyn, now! Do as I say!"

The iciness at the back of her neck had not ebbed; it was getting stronger. They were close. "Where is Polidori?" She screeched to a halt and spun to shout back. "Where is he?"

More yells, more doors slamming, men running, and loud, angry thuds from one of the rooms along the hall.

"Last door," Gwendolyn called, staring fearfully after her. "Victoria, what are you doing? Come back!"

"Lady Rockley!" It was Mr. Berkley, who looked befuddled and rumpled.

Victoria pushed past him and dashed down the hallway, wondering how on earth she was going to fight two Imperials and a Guardian without the element of surprise. And keep the others, who had no concept that vampires had invaded the house, from getting in the way.

But she had to. Polidori’s life, apparently, depended upon it.

Something grabbed her from a shadow, and she whipped away, stifling a shriek. "Sebastian!"

"They’re in there. Two Imperials and a Guardian."

"I saw them; I staked a Guardian already. I thought you were going to be with Polidori after you left my room," Victoria hissed, pulling away and starting toward the door.

"What in the hell are you doing? I said two Imperials." He wrenched at her arm, and, surprised, she stumbled backward. "Polidori’s not there."

"Let go," she snarled, flinging off his grip. "I’ve got a job to do. Where is he?" Victoria looked at him, struck by the look on his face. She’d seen Sebastian only with his calm and charming persona, not this intense, angry mood. But she was the one in command here. Not him. "What I’m doing is what I must. Remember? My choice—to stand and fight, rather than to turn tail and run."

"You against two Imperials and a Guardian… don’t be foolish. Besides, he’s hiding." He pointed to a room across the hall from where she’d been ready to burst in. "Whoever let the vampires in told them where he slept, and they’re searching the room for him. There are two others outside, watching the windows." He spoke quickly, his words like angry raps in her ear. "We haven’t much time before they realize he’s gone."

Then she noticed. "What is that you’re holding—a sword?" Victoria barked a short, nervous laugh. "What do you expect to do with a sword?"

Annoyance in his eyes, he shoved her away. "Think what you will. Are you—" Whatever he was going to say was cut off as someone behind them shouted. They turned to look back down the hallway, where a cluster of party guests were still standing in a wide-eyed group. Several of the men had retrieved pistols, and were starting toward Victoria and Sebastian.