Колин Глисон: Rises the Night

Eustacia smoothed her hands along his wide jaw in an automatic gesture. "The vampires who lived in caves and fed on animal blood?"

"No, mere sanam . The saburos in the stories I heard supposedly trained dogs to hunt humans and bring them back for them to feed upon. I do not know if there is any truth to the legend, but… the hound figure on the amulet reminded me of it. I do not know if it is worth mentioning to Wayren in your correspondence… but then, you have already sent it, haven't you?" He drew himself from her lap and smiled into her face. "Of course you have. With the swiftest of pigeons, haven't you?"

"Wayren should have the letter in four days or less. I will send her another letter with your thoughts, however, as I have learned never to discount your impressions."

"At least you have learned something in more than fifty years."

They laughed together, a comfortable, close chuckle, their breaths mingling and their noses brushing.

When the humor faded from her face, Kritanu picked up her hand. "And you are worried about Victoria."

" Vero . She is like my daughter. The pain is still so fresh for her. And there has been all the gossip, all the pity for the new bride of the Marquess of Rockley, so shortly married, so soon a widow."

"The story told is that he died at sea. A reasonable one."

" Si , although there have been more than a few comments about why he left for the Continent without his new bride, if they were so much in love… Even the servants do not know what truly happened. And certainly not her mother. And Victoria has held her head up bravely during it all… but she is only just twenty—so young to have this sort of burden and grief. Our life is difficult enough as it is."

"It is not your fault, Eustacia. What happened was not your fault."

A sudden sting burned her eyes. He knew her so well. "I know that… yet, I cannot relieve myself of the blame. If she had not become a Venator… if I had not pushed her…"

"You did not push her. She was meant to be… just as you were. As I recall, you were none too shy about taking on the task… and not demure in the least when a younger man came to teach you to fight using kalaripayattu and to meditate using yoga . You wanted nothing to do with me, as I was so much younger than your twenty-four years." He smoothed his fingers over the ugly, knobby knuckles of her old woman's hand. "And see what a difference you have made in the world, sanam . Without you… without your gift and your bravery, the mortal world would be very different than it is now. Remember that Christmas Eve in Venice? Eustacia… if you had not stopped those Guardians, the whole city would have been lost."

"And Lilith would have had the Gold Clasp in her hands." A tug of a smile caught her mouth. "We have thwarted her more than once, have we not, amore mio ?"

"We have. You have." His eyes, pupil and iris the same black color, glittered with seriousness. "You and Max and the others… but you, most of all. And now it is Victoria's turn. She is destined for greatness. You know it, because she carries two generations of Venator skills, from both your brother and her flighty mother. You must let her achieve it."

"I think in the end it was best that Victoria's mother didn't accept her calling as Venator. I don't believe Melly could have given up her love for Society in favor of hunting vampires." The last bit of levity and comfort seeped away. "Kritanu, it's Max I am most worried about."

"You have no word from him?"

She shook her head slowly. "Not in more than ten months. I was not completely truthful with Victoria when I told her Wayren was with him. She was in Spain, and then Paris, until a month ago, when she learned I had not heard from Max since last August, shortly after he arrived in Venezia. Wayren went back to Italia to see if she could find him… but she has not. No one seems to know where he is." Lifting her eyes, she looked at her sanam , her beloved. "She writes that the Tutela is rising again. I am afraid it is the doing of this vampire called Nedas."

"They have risen before, and we have stopped them."

"There is something different this time, Kritanu. And I fear I do not have the energy, nor the clarity of mind, to know what it is… what to do. I am old and slow. And I ache."

"It is Victoria's turn, pyar . You will do what you can, but you cannot do it all. And do not worry for Max. He wears the vis bulla , though he was not born to it. He is one of the few who passed the life-and-death test to do so. There is a reason for it."

"I know that. But I fear for him still."

Victoria had walked the night many times since she had taken on her duty as a Venator. The freedom of wearing trousers and going where she wished to go had been a joyful adventure, despite the danger of stalking the undead. Knowing that no other woman from the ton would desire—or be able—to walk empty, dangerous streets alone fueled her excitement.

Knowing that even a man would be in more danger, traveling Great St. Andrews or Little White Lion of St. Giles alone, on foot, made her feel invincible.

But tonight she was uneasy. Her nerves felt like her hair did after her maid, Verbena, brushed it too much—buzzing with static and energy. She waited for the back of her neck to chill or tingle. She gripped her stake, holding it ready in the folds of her man's jacket, when before she would leave it sagging in her pocket until she needed it.

She could have remained at St. Heath's Row, safe behind its cross-studded gates and stone walls. She could have given herself another night or two, after her experience at the Silver Chalice. She could even have waited until Aunt Eustacia heard from Wayren about the amulet she'd found. She could have spent the evening poring over the limited selection of manuscripts and scrolls that her aunt kept at her home, looking for some clue as to whether the amulet had been left by the demon she'd beheaded, or whether it was, perhaps, something Sebastian had lost months ago.

But she had not. If the vampires were indeed back, it was her duty to hunt and kill them. She could not hide in her husband's home and wonder how she would kill a demon if she faced one again tonight.

Her duty was to keep the innocent, the unwitting, safe from the immortals who would feed on their very life. If the residents of London—indeed, of all of England—had any concept how easily evil walked along with them, there would be mass hysteria.

So instead of attending dinner parties, or visiting clothiers and millineries, Victoria trained and planned and hunted.

A shadow detaching itself from the corner of an alley caught her attention as she walked by. She felt it step into her wake and pad quietly behind her, silent, oh, so silent.

The back of her neck did not cool. She didn't sense anything else prickling at her nerves, either. This, then, was a mortal who stalked her tonight, and Victoria waited for him to move on her, releasing the stake into the depths of her pocket. Despite her wariness, she was ready to fight something she knew how to fight.

Rounding a corner, Victoria took two steps before she saw the other figure coming at her from the left. She tipped with a graceful swoop and slid out the knife she wore strapped to her trousered thigh, letting it glint dully in the dim light. Her fingers trembled, but she kept her mind clear.

If she needed to use the knife, she would keep her mind clear and steady. She would not go berserk tonight.

"No need fer that, sirrah," growled a cockney burr just behind her. Something sharp pushed into the back of her coat.