Victoria Gardella: Vampire Slayer (3 page)

Which meant that the vampire had to have been
nearby for Max to have arrived at this room so expediently. Which
meant that it had been merely by accident that he came upon her and
Sebastian.

Firming her lips, she pushed herself and her
gown between the two men and faced Sebastian. “I’ll check your
pocket, then, if you won’t show me yourself.”

Sebastian’s mouth twitched. “Be my
guest.”

But before she could slide her hand into that
deep pocket in his undertunic, the waft of a chill breeze skittered
over the back of her neck again. In spite of herself, she turned to
look at Max, to see if he registered the presence of another
undead…and he gave a brief, annoyed nod. His lips moved in a silent
oath—but whether it was directed at her, or the new vampire
presence, she wasn’t certain.

“Vioget. What are they after?” he said
sharply.

The lower half of Sebastian’s face turned
crafty. “A particularly well-thought member of the ton has
become…shall we say…enamoured of the undead. When he—or she—” he
glanced at Victoria, “please note that I do keep my clients’
confidences—last visited the Silver Chalice, a personal item was
left behind. One that could identify him—or her.”

He stepped back, his hand beneath his tunic.
“I was merely
returning
the item to its rightful owner, and
I suspect that this person’s…enemies, shall we say? Wished to stop
me. Apparently, this individual is rather prominent, and a cause
for blackmail. The undead have many friends here in London. Perhaps
more than you would imagine, my dear Victoria.”

“Now that you’ve entertained us with your
fantasy, Vioget, you might just as well get out of here,” Max said,
turning toward the door. “You’ll be no help now.”

Victoria felt his gaze pass over her, and got
the impression that he had the same impression about her. Blasted
man.

“Why, I do believe I shall,” Sebastian
replied, moving quickly toward a window.

In a trice, he was gone.

Having nothing further to say to Max,
Victoria swished past him, her stake at the ready. The new undead
presence implied that the vampire had just recently arrived nearby,
and it led Victoria to hope that the creature hadn’t yet been able
to find and isolate a potential victim.

Out in the hall, she paused for a moment and
noted that the back of her neck had grown still chillier. That
boded no good, implying that either there were more than one
undead, or that the creature was very close by. So, putting
thoughts of golden-haired lute players and arrogant vampire hunters
out of her mind, she gave herself over to her instincts.

Down. Something told her to go down.

The cold prickle grew stronger as she swept
down the curling staircase, unaware—and uncaring—whether Max had
deigned to follow her. She didn’t need him.

At the foyer, Victoria pushed through a small
group of costumed party-goers clustered near the entrance to the
ballroom, and was just about to slip off down the corridor when she
caught sight of Phillip. He was just coming out of the ballroom,
and carried a small cup of lemonade.

Blast.

With her tall hair, she hadn’t a chance of
getting away without him seeing her, and so Victoria had to rush
toward Phillip in an effort to head off an uncomfortable
situation.

“Oh, thank you so much,” she cried, perhaps a
bit more fervently than necessary. She took the cup with enthusiasm
as she kept her stake hand tucked behind her.

“Are you mended and such?” he asked, edging
toward her as if to take her arm. Perfect.

Victoria smiled up with genuine delight, and
jostled against him just as he reached for her. The lemonade
splashed everywhere, even up onto her chin.

“Oh dear,” she said, real regret in her
voice. She hated that she had to do this, but, truly, it was for
his own good. And that of whoever the vampire might be stalking.
The last thing she needed was for a curious beau to follow her.
“How clumsy of me!”

“No, it was I, perhaps being a bit too
enthusiastic over seeing the moon with you.” He smiled
apologetically. Phillip would have linked her arm closer, ignoring
the spill, she was certain. So she continued, “I’ll just be a
moment, my lord. So the stain doesn’t set. Perhaps….” Victoria gave
him an apologetic smile.

“Of course,” he replied. “And I’m certain
you’ll still have a thirst, so I shall occupy myself by obtaining a
replacement. Do hurry,” he said breathlessly into her ear before
releasing her arm. “Please.”

Victoria smiled up at him, warmth flushing
over her face beneath the mask. “I will, Phillip. Most
assuredly.”

He took himself off, and she turned and
nearly barreled into Max.

“I trust you’ve gotten your affairs in order?
Dance card filled? Beaus lined up in order of title and wealth?” he
said blandly. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, perhaps you
could—”

She didn’t hear the rest of his obnoxious
comment, for she’d sailed off down the corridor, following the
sensation at the back of her neck. When she came to the same door
behind which she’d nearly interrupted her mother and Lord
Jellington, Victoria stopped.

She did not want to open this door again.

But before she could, a soft cry—much more
frightened than the one she’d followed earlier—reached her ears. It
came from further down the hall, near the back of the house and the
servants’ area.

Victoria hesitated no longer and took herself
off so quickly that she lost a slipper, and her heavy coif bounced
threateningly. The chill grew colder, and she heard another cry
that led her to another closed door.

This time she didn’t wait. The back of her
neck frigid, Victoria yanked off her mask and flung the door
open.

In an instant, she saw three vampires, and
four petrified maids. An impression of red eyes and gleaming white
fangs drew her first, and Victoria lunged as well as she could in
heavy skirts. She had the element of surprise, as well as that of
her gender, as an advantage.

She shoved a goggle-eyed maid away from the
vampire bending to her blood-streaked throat, and he bared his
fangs as he came at her. He must not have seen the stake in her
hand, for he left his chest unprotected and she slammed the point
into his heart.

The vampire froze, then poofed into smelly,
undead ash. Victoria whirled and found that the other two undead
had released their victims and now started toward her. Her skirts
caught up with her spin, then rocketed back in the opposite
direction as she faced the undead.

One of them leapt toward her, fast and
strong. But she was ready and kicked out from under layers of
silk—rather more awkwardly than usual, but with enough force to
catch one of the undead unawares. He stumbled back, crashing into
the wall as Victoria spun to launch herself at his companion.

He was quicker than she’d expected, and he
caught her arm, slamming her against the back of a chair. The hard
wood edge caught her in the belly and she lost her breath, spots
flickering before her eyes. Victoria gasped and flailed behind her
with the stake, then struck out backward with one of her feet.

She smashed into something soft, and the grip
on her arm released. Dragging in a ragged breath, she turned to
find glowing red eyes behind her, and white fangs. Strong arms
whipped out and grabbed her shoulders, squeezing hard into her
flesh as he yanked her toward him. Her neck was bare, and the heavy
tower of hair made it difficult for her to keep her head from
lolling back.

Victoria kicked out again, but missed, and
her foot got wrapped up in the layers of her costume. But her stake
was still in her hand, and with all her effort, she slammed her
face forward, bringing all the force of her jewel-strewn hair with
her forehead into the vampire’s face.

He cried out in surprise and she wasted no
time, her arm whipping around to shove the stake home.
Poof
.
He was gone.

And then there was one.

The vampire scrambled to his feet from where
she’d shoved him against the wall moments earlier, and Victoria
stumbled after him, turning to chase him toward the door.

But Max was standing there, and before the
vampire took two steps, Max’s arm moved. Casually.
Poof
.

Victoria fought her breathing into a regular
rhythm; the last thing she wanted was for Max to see her panting
while he stood there as if he’d just arrived for tea.

He’d also disposed of his mask, and the
expression on his rugged face was one of bald annoyance. “Whatever
possessed you to wear such a ridiculous gown?” he asked. “How in
the bloody hell did you think you’d be able to fight a vampire in
that? Or did you think they might stay home tonight, merely because
you wished to attend a masquerade ball?”

Victoria lifted her chin, infuriated despite
the fact that she had already bemoaned the fact herself. “I don’t
see any vampires about, so apparently I managed the task just
fine.”

“You very nearly didn’t. That one nearly had
you over the chair.”

“But I did. No thanks to you,” she added,
realizing that he must have been standing there, watching, as she
and her skirts battled three undead on her own. Blasted arrogant
man.

Victoria suddenly realized Phillip must have
long been waiting for her, and she shoved the stake back into its
little hiding place. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, starting
toward the doorway blocked by Max.

“Ah, yes, waltzes and walks in the moonlight
await. I do hope you enjoy your evening,” he said. He stepped back
to allow her to brush past, her gown catching for a moment before
she made it through. “And, for the sake of the guests here, that no
other undead manages to breach the party.”

“Good night.” Her teeth gritted so hard her
jaw hurt as she hurried along the corridor back to the foyer.

When she arrived, there was Phillip, waiting
for her, holding a much-needed cup of lemonade.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, his attention
scoring over her in a way that made her face heat up. “Whatever
happened to your mask?”

She looked up at him. “It’s nearly midnight.
And,” she added, sweeping her lashes down demurely, “I thought it
might get in the way.”

Phillip pulled off his mask, then slipped his
arm through hers, lining her next to his tall body. “Indeed it
might,” he said. Then, pausing, he reached out to brush something
from her shoulder. “Wherever did you get so dusty all of a
sudden?”

Victoria smelled the mustiness of undead ash
and looked up at him. “I stumbled into the wrong chamber, and
stirred up a bit of dust,” she explained, smiling up in delight at
the expression on his face.

“Indeed?” he replied, his hooded eyes dark
and seductive. “Well, I certainly hope that stirring up dust
doesn’t become too much of a habit.”

Victoria merely smiled. Little did he
know.

Follow the rest of Victoria Gardella’s
adventures in
The Gardella Vampire Chronicles
, available now
wherever books are sold!

The Rest Falls Away

Book One

In every generation a Gardella is called to
accept the family legacy of hunting vampires and this time,
Victoria Gardella is chosen to carry the stake.

Rises the Night

Book Two

Victoria Gardella has been a vampire slayer
for over a year, balancing her life as a peer of Society with the
dangerous role that takes her out on moonlit streets.