The Bleeding Dusk (Page 7)

But Sebastian had apparently thought of her at least once since last autumn, for somehow he had obtained her Aunt Eustacia’s vis bulla after the horrific events of that long, bloody night and sent it to Victoria. How he’d obtained it she couldn’t guess, but the fact that he had sent it on to her was a miracle.

And then there was Max, from whom she’d heard nothing since he handed her his own vis bulla and walked away. Almost four months ago.

That vis, in combination with her aunt’s strength amulet, had given Victoria even greater strength and speed than her own single amulet. Instead of canceling each other out or even maintaining her level of expertise, the dual vis bullae had made her faster, stronger, and healthier—if the training she’d been doing with Kritanu was any indication.

Michalas stopped, drawing Victoria abruptly from her maze of thoughts. It was a good thing a vampire hadn’t leaped out in front of her, as she’d been distracted more than was prudent.

“Eh, now, look here,” he said. “This great stone wall encloses the Palombara estate. It reaches all along this block and then around in a sort of elongated pentagonal shape. We’re at the very rear, at the farthest point from the villa, which sits near the front, at the fifth corner of the wall. It’s just a bit up this street that I came upon the pile of animal carcasses.”

The sun had just set, and the graying light in the sky allowed her to see the crumbling rock of the barrier. Along the top of the enclosure—which was half again as tall as she was—high, sharp stones had been set in the mortar so that their edges discouraged anyone from climbing over. But there were cracks, and one large one where an oak branch had grown against the wall and caused it to buckle, then split halfway down so it would be possible to climb through.

Via Merulana was lined by narrow residences that appeared to be more well-kept than the Palombara estate, yet it wasn’t a busy thoroughfare. A few carriages drove by, and several pedestrians moved quickly along—heads bent against the chill, or in an effort to remain unseen and unnoticed. It was a bit eerie, made more so by the fact that she and Michalas didn’t carry a lantern as if in fear of attracting attention.

“No one has lived here for more than one hundred forty years,” Michalas told her, examining the crevice where the tree trunk thrust through. “Apparently the marchese had a secret laboratory where he and some of his fellow alchemists conducted their experiments. He claimed he was about to unveil the secret of transmutation after two more nights of work in his workshop, but he disappeared that very night. The laboratory, which presumably contains the results and remnants of his experiments, has remained locked since his disappearance.”

Victoria looked thoughtfully at the broken wall. “I don’t suppose he was turned into a vampire,” she said, a note of humor in her voice.

Before Michalas could reply, they both stilled. “Speaking of the bloody creatures,” he murmured, sliding a stake from his belt. Victoria followed suit and they looked at each other, then waited.

She felt the brush of cold air over the back of her neck, raising the prickles of awareness that always accompanied the presence of an undead. “It’s back there,” she said, gesturing to the wall. “Behind the wall.”

Michalas nodded, and they moved toward the crack in the enclosure. “First or last?” he asked.

“First,” Victoria said, pleased he hadn’t tried to keep her behind. Some of the male Venators, particularly the younger ones who hadn’t fought beside Aunt Eustacia, still had to be reminded that she was as capable—more so, in fact, due to her dual vis and direct Gardella lineage—as they in defending herself.

Despite that, Michalas had to help her through the crevice when her wide-legged trousers, designed to look like a skirt, got caught on a low branch. He followed behind her.

The sensation at the back of her neck was getting stronger, so she knew they were going in the right direction. The sun’s last gasp of light was disappearing rather quickly, and it was too dark on the other side of the wall to see any details of the overgrown terrain. Tall, skeletal trees mingled with thick bushes, and the tangled brown-leaved vines and brush of a long-forgotten garden left little room to pass.

Michalas pointed to the remnant of a pathway marked only by a smattering of stones. It was a pale streak in the dark, and nearly obstructed by tall grass that had fallen over it through the years. They were silent as they moved along the old trail. Victoria found herself peering ahead in the direction she expected the villa to lie, somehow assuming she’d see lights or other illumination, but knowing that there would be none. It was just odd to have a large estate in the middle of a city, empty and unused. This would never occur in London.

The sensation at the back of her neck was growing stronger; Victoria knew they were close when they came upon a lower stone wall that appeared to bisect the estate, separating the back, with its more natural gardens, from the front, where the villa, stable, and more formal gardens would lie.

She sensed three or four of the undead nearby, perhaps just on the other side of the wall. She and Michalas either needed to find a gate or another way over it.

She silently grabbed Michalas’s arm to get his attention and showed him four fingers, now barely visible, backlit by an anemic moon. He nodded and pointed to a large gap where the two walls should have connected—a space they could easily walk through.

But as they moved toward it, Victoria heard the sound of rusty metal: a gate, opening and clinking back into place. She and Michalas waited for a moment, then began to creep silently toward the undead.

Eight red eyes glowed in the darkness, and they appeared to be talking excitedly among themselves; probably planning where and when to stalk the victims for their evening feed. She hated to interrupt their dinner plans, but…she lunged from the covering of a pine tree, the needles brushing over her cheek, her stake raised.

The element of surprise allowed her to stab one of the undead before the others realized they weren’t alone. When her stake plunged through to the creature’s heart, he froze, then poofed into the malignant pile of ash and dust that was the final result of a life of damned immortality. Michalas was just as quick with his weapon, and it was really too simple for both of them to dispatch the other three vampires with barely the flicker of an eyelash or a disruption of breath. They were easy targets—taken by surprise as they were, and, from the looks of them, had not been undead for very long.