Колин Глисон: When Twilight Burns

Indeed, there was nothing left to be said.

Victoria slogged through the sludgy underground canal as she and Sebastian had done weeks earlier.

The back of her neck was cold. Red-and some pink- eyes burned, glowing in the darkness of the sewer tunnels, but none made a move toward her. They blinked, and there was impatient rustling in the shadows, but Victoria ignored it. Lilith was too smart-and complacent-to rush things.

When she came to the dead end of the sewer, where the rush of water fell down into darkness below, she easily found the narrow walkway that led up and along the side of the tunnel to the underground abbey. To her uneasy surprise, she realized she didn’t need a light. Her eyesight in the darkness continued to improve: a morbid reminder of her tenuous hold on mortality.

Once at the top of the ramplike walkway, Victoria slipped through the narrow crevice. She slunk across the small space, then faced the first door, which led to the antechamber that had been empty during her first visit, and where she’d fought with the vampires while Sebastian hid the secret door. To her surprise, the door that had been bolted when she and Sebastian came was unlocked and easily swung open. But that made sense… for Lilith was expecting her.

This chamber was still empty but for a pile of rags in one corner and a broken wooden chair. The back of her neck was frigid and her heart slammed in her chest. She walked across the room and pushed open the heavy door to the throne room.

At first, it seemed as though her entrance had gone unnoticed. There were few occupants in the space-a small cluster of vampires sitting in chairs. Sara, standing nearby like a lady in waiting. Lilith, who sat in her large stone throne with her long, slender fingers curled over the arms, was talking to Sara.

And Max. Thank God, Max.

He sat next to the vampire queen on a low stone stool. His shirt was missing, his feet were bare, but he still wore the same trousers he’d donned this morning. Unbelievably, his skin was unmarked, though she saw a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. The silver vis bulla glinted uselessly in the midst of the dark hair on his muscled torso.

Victoria looked at him, willing him to notice her. To see that she’d come, and would get them out of there, or die in the process.

But then Lilith looked directly at her with red-blue eyes, and Victoria had to blink away in surprise before the thrall trapped her.

“Nearly two hours, Venator. We’d begun to think you weren’t going to come.” Lilith smiled and reached over with a slender white hand to touch Max. He didn’t move. Languidly, she laced her fingers through the thick dark hair that fell in straggling waves around his face. He still hadn’t looked at Victoria, and that made her uneasy. Very uneasy.

He didn’t appear to be restrained; his capable hands rested on his knees. Her palms became sweaty.

“I’ve brought the Ring of Jubai for you. I want Max.”

At that moment, he shifted, as if it were a casual move, as if he hardly noticed her presence. Or cared about it. He looked straight at her, and she was struck by the look in his eyes: fury, frustration. He was angry that she’d come.

She could almost guess his thoughts: Bloody hell, Victoria. It would all be over by now if you weren’t so damned bullheaded and let me die in peace.

But he didn’t understand. She would never leave him to this, or to die. She wouldn’t let him go.

Lilith smiled, her fangs fully extended. “I thought that might be the case. I see that you’ve given him back his vis bulla . But,” she added thoughtfully, “first we must see how you are faring, Victoria Gardella.”

She had been prepared for it, had known it was inevitable. But when Lilith grasped Max’s head and tipped it to the side, bending to the tendon at the junction of shoulder and neck, Victoria felt the slam of her heart vibrating crazily through her, suddenly taking over. As though it struggled to be released, to control her.

This was the same scene she’d witnessed before, the same scene that still haunted her, which, she knew, was only the edge of what he’d suffered: brilliant coppery hair spilling over his bare torso, next to his dark head, the grimace of pain mingled with shameful pleasure that flushed his face, parted his lips in a silent groan.

And the sounds: the soft gulps, the faint whistle of suction. The palpable alertness of the other undead in the room.

Victoria had expected it, steeled herself for it… but the blood. The smell of it.

Max’s blood.

Her vision went hazy and pink, and she swallowed back the saliva that surged in her mouth.

Lilith looked up at that moment, daintily wiping a drop of crimson from the corner of her mouth. “I see,” she said. Laughter and delight tinged her voice. “You’re further gone than I’d imagined.”

Victoria couldn’t look at Max; she could barely breathe. Oh God, help me. Her fingers trembled, the stake lay untouched in her pocket.

Lilith swiped a finger over the marks on Max’s skin, bringing away a fingertip tipped with red. Victoria could see it glistening from where she stood, and swallowed again. “Come, taste,” said the vampire queen.

Victoria’s stomach rebelled, lurching sharply… yet she couldn’t draw her eyes away from the crimson trickling from Max’s shoulder. Her heart beat strong vibrations to her fingers.

And then Lilith’s laugh, echoed by Sara, trilled over the back of her mind, and she used its horrible sound to pull out of the depths… of wherever she’d been. Her heart still pounded, her fingers trembled… but the tug had loosened enough for her to regain control. For the moment.

“I’m here to negotiate,” she said, aware that her voice was perhaps not as strong as it could be. “Do you want the Ring of Jubai? Or shall I leave?” She swallowed, and the saliva did not return in the same salacious manner as before. The red in her vision eased to the edges, lingering, but no longer burning.

“Of course I want the ring… but I’ll get it eventually. Soon, you won’t be able to deny me anything. And this is so much more entertaining. Are you quite certain you don’t wish to join me?” Lilith moved her hand possessively over the front of Max’s chest, her long nails threading through hair and over the plane of muscles, carefully avoiding the vis bulla on one side… then back up into the thick strands that brushed his neck.

He remained unmoving, stoic, but unwilling to meet Victoria’s eyes. Yet she saw the pulse in the veins of his throat, and the visible tension in his arms as they tightened, the press of his lips. She felt the revulsion and horror emanating from him, and yet he displayed no reaction.

She realized in that moment that whatever had happened with Beauregard three months ago, whatever he’d done to her-and she’d accepted-during his attempt to turn her, had been nothing compared to what Max experienced at the hands of the vampire queen. Her stomach pitched at the thought of such ugliness.

“I didn’t think you were willing to share,” Victoria replied, trying a different tack, concentrating on her breathing. Keeping it easy, slow, smooth. Trying to ignore the smell of blood.

“For a Venator turned undead, I may perhaps make an exception,” Lilith admitted. “You are very close, Victoria Gardella. Can you not feel it burning inside you? The need? I see it in your eyes.”

“You see nothing,” Victoria told her, wondering how much time had elapsed. Sebastian and the others should have been able to find the entrance to the secret passage behind the throne by now… they could be nearby. She simply needed to kill more time. “You merely see what you want to see.”