As Shadows Fade gvc-5

by Колин Глисон

  “No,” she managed to say, her word sounding soggy. “No.”

  “Yes indeed… Listen to me, Victoria Gardella. Do you think you are the first Venator to want to kill her? And to attempt it? How do you think she has lived all these millennia?” He stood, moving closer to her. “Few know the secret. You can go and kill her now. She’ll be leaving and riding under the moon tomorrow night… You can reach her as she leaves her mountain, surprise her. Ash trees grow abundantly on Fagaras… She will send her army west to fool her enemies, but she and a small contingent of her closest companions will secretly go north.”

  Victoria felt as though she’d plunged underwater. The world slowed, became murky, and she struggled to think. She could. Save Max.

  She could.

  “You can go now, on this cloudy night, and be there tomorrow… and then return here, when the moon is ready. Quickly and easily,” he said. “Simple. And you can free him.”

  But… no. She dug through the haunting images, the caress of his voice, the building desire and incessant compulsion to run now. To go now. She dug through the need to act now, and focused on the truth: She had work here, tonight if the moon was free… and if not, then tomorrow night.

  “It will be too late if you delay. She’ll be gone for good. She knows of the coming threat.”

  Victoria had to work to focus on those words, and she grasped the idea, pulling it out of the muddle of images that her brain had become. “The coming threat?”

  “You know of what I speak… The portal is merely cracked now. But when it widens, and the dark ones pour out readily, the vampires will be destroyed. You’re here to try and stop the inevitable.”

  Yes. Yes, she was. She had to close the portal.

  Victoria blinked and focused on the building behind the demonic man, at last feeling the slog begin to slip away. It felt as though she was slowly awakening. “I’m here to close the portal.”

  “You are. But you don’t understand that it’s not the mortals we come for… It’s the undead.” His voice remained beautiful and smooth, lulling. “Those are the ones who battle us for Lucifer’s domain. The battle between us has raged for millennia… and now it will come to your Earth. If you kill Lilith, destroy her stronghold, the battle will not need to be fought. We can retreat to our domain and leave your race free. Do you understand, Victoria Gardella? You can prevent the battle from raging on this Earth if you slay Lilith. If you go today. Tonight.”

  She felt the sway of the words as they wrapped around her, cocooning her in their sweetness, their logic and illogic, their temptation.

  “And then you can close the portal. We will no longer need it. You have the means, don’t you? Tached’s Orb. Of course it will work, and you will triumph. You have time because you have the orb, the lock. The portal is merely a crack… You saw it today. You saw that no threat comes through there.”

  His compelling voice went on. “But he doesn’t have time, Victoria Gardella. He doesn’t have any time at all. You know he doesn’t. You feel the moments slipping away like grains of sand on the ocean shore. But you can save him. The others… they can close the portal while you are gone.”

  They could.

  Brim and Michalas. They could do it.

  But she was Illa Gardella.

  She awakened, pushing the cobwebs away.

  “But I am Illa Gardella,” she said aloud. “And I will close the portal,” she continued, her voice growing stronger. The images faded away with the strength of her words, and she looked at the demon and said, “I’ll close the portal, and I’ll keep your minions behind it. Begone with you and your temptations. Do you not think I can see how you tempt me?”

  She was ready when his lips drew back in a horrible parody of a smile, baring teeth that grew long and pointed in a face that turned cruel and sharp. As he swept his arm, an arm that had become large and powerful, she pulled the bottle of holy water from her pocket, thumbing the cork off.

  A blast of wind swept up suddenly, nearly knocking her off her feet with its ferocity. Black fog spun around her, and she was pummeled by the gale as she struggled to draw her sword.

  She saw Max suddenly, there before her, and for a moment, she almost believed it. He was real, looking at her through the smoky whirl, his eyes dark and intense.

  She steeled herself against the attempt to set her off balance, to distract her. It had happened before-the first time she met a demon. He’d taken the form of Phillip, and the shock and confusion of suddenly coming face-to-face with her dead husband had nearly been her undoing.

  But she now knew the tricks demons played, and tore her gaze away, as the blade pulled free of its sheath. She brandished the sword and tossed the blessed water toward the murky shadow of the demon’s face as she battled against the wind.

  He cried out, and the battering force lessened enough for Victoria to stumble backward, out of the whirlwind. Feeling a brick wall behind her, she pulled another bottle of water and shoved its contents toward him again, swinging her sword as the liquid sprayed.

  Wet splashed in her face, blasted back by the wind, and her sword connected with something thick. Max. Again. This time, with horror on his face.

  With a shout, she shoved the sword home, and sliced away, feeling as though she were cutting through a bog.

  And then, suddenly, everything stilled.

  The wind stopped, the fog was erased, and she was alone, panting, leaning against the wall. The demon was gone-whether she had killed him or merely driven him off, she wasn’t certain.

  But she looked up and saw that the sky had darkened. What little light came from a lowering sun was obscured by clouds, leaving only a dull illumination over the small courtyard where she stood.

  There would be no chance to use Tached’s Orb tonight, for the moonlight would be blocked. The demon had spoken the truth about that, at least.

  Victoria tightened her fingers around the grip of her sword and glanced back toward the south, in the direction of Muntii Fagaras. Where Max was.

  She swallowed as the urge to leave, to go after him, clawed through her anew. How much could she believe of Adolphus?

  Anything? Anything at all?

  He had spoken truthfully when he claimed Lilith was his enemy. It would be to his benefit if Lilith were dead…

  Victoria was standing there, trembling, shaking against the need to go, when Michalas found her.

  “I’ve seen no sign of him,” he said, looking at her curiously.

  “That’s no matter,” she replied soberly, wondering how long she’d been here with the demon. “I found him. He’s gone for now.” She looked up at the clouds. “There’s nothing we can do tonight.”

  And she returned reluctantly to the tavern for another night of doing nothing while Max suffered.

  And possibly Sebastian with him.

  Twenty-One

  In Which Our Heroine Chafes at the Bit

  There was no thought of sleeping that night, for a variety of reasons-the least of which was that Victoria absolutely couldn’t keep her eyes closed for more than a moment.

  For a woman used to always doing, a day and night of sitting and waiting was like a personal hell.

  Especially since those hours of nothing, nothing, nothing! gave her plenty of time to imagine Max in the hands of Lilith. The crafty demon had pulled all the terrible thoughts and images from the depths of Victoria’s mind, from where she’d stuffed them deeply so that she could concentrate on the matter at hand… He’d tugged them free, releasing them into full-blown terror, and now they constantly assaulted her.

  Along with those images teased the secret he’d told her about Lilith. Was it true? Could something as simple as a stake of virgin ash paralyze the great vampiress?

  Why would he lie about that?

  To give her a reason to leave.

  Or… to give her the weapon to destroy Lilith.

  It tantalized her, that possibility.

  There were no vampires to hunt in this small town
, likely run off by the demons. And now that the sun had disappeared completely, the clouds hung heavy and thick, obscuring the moon so darkly that nary a whisper of a beam escaped. The night sat, dark and leaden, over the cemetery. Even the white gravestones appeared no lighter than the dark ground in which they sat.

  Victoria had Tached’s Orb safely in her pocket, in the event that the clouds shifted and there was the chance to use it. But for now, she sat on her mount on the same small hill overlooking the cemetery. Watching. Waiting.

  Hoping something happened.

  The village clustered behind her, close enough that she could hear voices from the tavern, where Brim and Michalas remained. She’d instructed them to stay there, to watch the clouds and to come at the sign of any movement. They were close enough that she could call for them if something changed. But for now, Victoria wanted only to be alone. They tried too hard to be jovial and to keep her mind occupied.

  The last time she’d checked the time, midnight was near.

  If anything meant to slip through the crevice of the portal, it would be in the darkest part of night. The demon’s attempts to entice her away earlier today confirmed Victoria’s suspicions that something would happen soon. He’d been so intent on getting her away tonight… and though she’d run him off, Victoria was under no illusion that he’d given up.

  As she watched, she kept her attention on not only the small, squat building, which acted as a visual placeholder for the portal, but also on the sky above. The clouds had begun to move, fat and heavy, limned with the silver of a hidden moon.

  Hope had Victoria backing her horse up, keeping an eye on the cemetery as she moved back toward the tavern, ready to call for Brim and Michalas. The clouds had definitely started to shift and churn, and at the same time, a darkness gathered below.

  The demons.

  They were released.

  Victoria’s heart picked up speed, and she turned her horse now, ready to ride back into the village, keeping her gaze over her shoulder as she kicked the flanks of her mount.

  The street was empty and dark, but raucous laughter and warm light spilled from the tavern. Just as Victoria was ready to slide off her horse and dash in to call the others, she saw him at the end of the street.

  Max.

  Her heart stopped, and she looked again at the unmistakable figure, tall and easy in the saddle, moving quickly down the road toward her.

  It was impossible.

  It was Adolphus, drawing her away from the cemetery as his demons escaped.

  She kicked up her mount and started toward him, glancing back at the stirring clouds and the rising black fog.

  It can’t be him.

  Hope rose; then she pushed it back.

  He hailed her with a raised arm, and her heart kicked up a notch… then sagged back into ugly despair. He was alone.

  Sebastian had gone to save him. Surely Sebastian would be with him if he’d succeeded.

  Victoria thought to ignore him. She turned her horse, ready to gallop back to the cemetery and fight the demons there. A wordless shout stopped her, and she saw that he’d kicked his horse to catch up to her in the street.

  She saw his face, weary and stubbled, his eyes deep and dark in their sockets, hair hanging in straggles. It was too dark to read his expression-but whatever it was wouldn’t be true. This wasn’t real.

  Pulling her sword free, galvanized by fury driven by her dashed hopes, she swung toward him. If she killed him, would that stop the flood of his minions?

  A blow to the neck. A good one.

  He dodged, pulling his own sword free in a smooth movement. He gave an exclamation as their blades clashed, startling the horses into skittishness.

  Clamping her legs tightly, Victoria held on as the horse stumbled and shifted. Then she blasted out with her sword, aiming for his neck.

  The demon pulled back, blocking her every move while making no effort to slash at her.

  A glance over her shoulder told Victoria that the roiling black cloud had risen higher at the cemetery, and she noticed a glimmer of moonlight.

  Desperate for one last chance, she propelled herself upright in the saddle and brought the lethal sword out and around, in a long, vicious swipe. He dodged at the last minute, and the blade cut into the top of his arm, slicing down and across his coat. “Victoria!” he roared.

  The momentum of her strike kept the sword in motion, swinging the heavy blade up and around again in a powerful arc-and then she saw the blood.

  Blood.

  She barely caught herself before the weapon sliced fully into his side, and that last-minute restraint, along with his quick dodge, saved him from nothing more than a graze down the side of his other arm.

  “Christ Almighty. I know you’re angry, but-”

  “Max!” she cried, in a combination of horror, shock, and disbelief.

  “-try to damn near kill me.”

  “It’s really you!” She nudged her horse up next to his, keeping the sword down at her side.

  Max reached over and grabbed her by the front of the shirt, hauling her across the divide between their saddles, and slammed his mouth onto hers. She half fell into his lap, her hands clamping over his shoulders-one of which was damp with blood-and kissed him back crazily.

  “Dammit, Victoria, what the bloody hell were you doing?” he said after a deep, desperate moment of holding her close, crushing the breath from her lungs. She felt the damp on his cheek as his eyelashes brushed against her skin.

  “I thought you were a demon,” she said, pulling away long enough to shove her weapon back into its sheath. But before she could lunge back into his arms and touch his face, make sure it really was him, his expression changed.

  “Look,” he said in a stricken voice.

  Victoria saw that he was looking over her shoulder, in the direction of the cemetery. Forgetting her joy for the moment, she twisted around to look.

  “Oh my God.” Her stomach plummeted as she saw the extent of the writhing, coiling black over the cemetery, and she settled back fully in the seat of her saddle. With insistent knees and the pull on her reins, she wheeled her horse around and kicked it into a gallop.

  This was why the demon tried so hard to tempt her away. Adolphus must be cracking the portal open.

  Thank God she hadn’t listened to him.

  Thank God she hadn’t slain Max in her confusion.

  Max wasted no time in following her. As they stampeded past the tavern, she saw Brim and Michalas already on their way out the door to join them.

  Her sword back out of its sheath again, Victoria bent low over the neck of her mount, its mane flying up and into her face, stinging her eyes, as they pounded along the dusty road. The darkness had been relieved by the barest spread of clouds, allowing, miraculously, a tendril of moonlight to shine through.

  Victoria took the chance to look up as they galloped and saw the edges of the clouds lined by moonlight, and saw that it was possible… a bit possible… that they could widen more, and allow even a larger swatch of light to beam through.

  Please, God. Give me another miracle.

  They could fight back the demons with their swords, trying to beat them as they had in London, and she could pull the orb from her pocket and hope there was enough moonlight to strain through it and close the portal.

  As if reading her mind, Max looked over, his horse even with hers. “Do you have the orb?” he shouted.

  “Yes.”

  He gave a grim smile, then turned forward again, his sword ready. Victoria let him pull ahead of her just the slightest bit, remembering with a burst of joy that he was back. Max was back, fully empowered, fully restored-except for the wound from her own sword.

  And at that moment, she remembered Sebastian. Where was he? Hadn’t he gone for Max?

  “Where is Sebastian?” she shouted. “Did you see him?”

  Max shook his head, dark hair flying. “He stayed. With Lilith.” His face remained grim.

  He stayed wit
h Lilith? No. Not Sebastian.

  She drew in a deep breath, and pushed away the instant fear. This first.

  And then… she’d go back to her original plan of finding Lilith and killing her. This time, she’d be going in to free Sebastian instead of Max.

  She only hoped he’d still be in one piece.

  As they pounded down the small hill into the stony area that cupped the graveyard, Victoria fumbled in the pocket inside her trousers. The orb felt small and warm from the heat of her body, and she closed her hand tightly around it.

  The crystal sphere fit easily into her palm, small enough that her fingers nearly met around its circumference. She wouldn’t easily drop it.

  The black fog writhed and battered them as they came closer, revealing the same glowing red eyes as the flying wraiths they’d met in London. Leaping over the fencelike pile of stones, still astride the horses, they guided them into the midst of the nasty black clouds.

  As soon as they broke the invisible wall of the graveyard, the shadows began to surge toward them. Swords flashing, Brim and Michalas remained close on their heels as Max and Victoria sliced and swung at the sweeping, lunging demons.

  She found herself clinging to the horse with only her knees, guiding it deeper into the swirling fog as she protected herself with the sword while holding the orb, ready at any moment to pull it from her pocket and lift it into the moonlight.

  Without speaking, Victoria and Max moved in tandem, urging their reluctant horses toward the little building, where the roiling fog concentrated. She watched the sky, ducking red-eyed shadows while looking for the moon, aware of Max’s powerful blade slicing and slashing near her.

  As they drew nearer the building, the darkness became more complete, the buffeting force of their attackers stronger, colder, more paralyzing. Victoria felt claws scrape over her shoulders, grab at her hair, and set her horse to squealing and stumbling beneath her. In fact, her mount was panicked and stamped desperately, trying to get away, tipping and tilting her off balance as she was badgered from above.