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Victoria looked at Sebastian, who gave her a look that told her he couldn't wait for her to ask him the questions he knew were going through her mind, because he wasn't going to answer them.


She could only imagine what kind of compensation he would attempt to extract from her.


What else could she do? She sat back down in her seat to watch the rest of the opera, relieved that she'd come out of the situation with no one the wiser of her Venator status.


But as she sat in her seat, she realized belatedly that the chill at the back of her neck had not eased. Its persistence told her that the vampires were still nearby.


And, as if to confirm this, only moments later someone screamed. It was a horrible, terrified scream.


Victoria bolted to her feet. Fortunately she wasn't the only person in the box to respond in that manner, and Sebastian was right next to her, slipping his hand through her arm as though to steady her. Or hold her back.


There was another scream, perhaps a bit closer, from the passageway behind their box. A few shouts. The diva continued to sing. The orchestra continued to play. The cold at the back of Victoria's neck had not subsided.


"Who is it?" cried Portiera, clutching at Galliani. "Someone's hurting her!"


"Someone is being hurt!" echoed Placidia, tugging at Sebastian's other arm.


With Portiera in tow, Galliani had opened the door of the box and was peering out. "I see nothing!"


There was another scream, louder now that the door was open. Victoria tugged away from Sebastian, all thoughts of listening to Aunt Eustacia's warning suddenly evaporated. She moved around the seats, heading for the door, and was caught by Max's dark eyes. When she saw the grim expression on his face, she stopped.


As she grabbed at the back of the velvet-covered seat next to her, trying to decide what to do, she glanced at Conte Regalado. He was leaning against a side wall of the box, near the seats. Unconcerned. Watching her.


Victoria took a deep breath and closed her fingers tighter into the velvet cushion, anchoring herself there.


But she wavered. She needed to get out of this room. The vampires had been sent off by Sebastian—only to wreak havoc elsewhere.


The sounds of cries and running feet had grown; yet the opera continued. Perhaps they could not hear, so far away and over the sounds of the orchestra. But it was an odd sensation—from one side of the box was beautiful music; from the other were the sounds of terror and panic.


"Someone must do something!" Placidia cried. "And I do not wish to stay here… What if it is a fire? Or bandits! I do not wish to be trapped!" Her voice rose in a spiral of nerves as she looked up at Sebastian. Apparently vampires were not a concern to her.


Victoria seized upon the opportunity and lifted the back of her hand to her forehead as she'd seen her mother do when complaining of vapors. "I am feeling quite warm," she said, adopting a whiny voice. "Mr. Vioget, I do think I will need your escort out of this small room. You will protect me, won't you?"


And before he could respond, she slid her arm around his other elbow and began to gently direct him toward the door. She heard the other women speaking, but Victoria and Sebastian, along with Placidia, were already out of the box and into the narrow passageway that led behind the lower theater seats. Other doors were opening, people were coming out and looking around in fear and concern, and the hall was filling.


In the distance, Victoria heard the sounds of chaos—running feet, screams and yells, and loud noises that could be doors slamming or large items falling to the floor. As soon as they were out of sight of the opera box door, and the others behind them, Victoria pulled loose from Sebastian and started off down the hallway, slipping betwixt the other operagoers.


She heard the shout behind her, but she didn't listen to him… She listened to the cold on her neck, the barometer that would tell her where the vampires were.


Down the hall, past the doors to the other boxes, toward the staircase that led down to the main entrance… or up to the higher box levels.


Victoria didn't remove her stake as she pushed through the people. There were more than two vampires here, she realized, and she wondered what they were doing—if they were snatching people as they could, feeding on them and then releasing them, or if they were dragging them off as prisoners to feed on later.


Then she heard the shout: "Fire!"


A wave of screams rolled through the narrow hall, and the people began to push and shove to get through.


"Fire!" echoed in her ears, up and down and throughout the theater. The orchestra had stopped playing, and the only sound was that of cries and shouts.


People were leaving the building in droves, which was good. Outside they had a better chance of escaping a vampire attack simply due to the fact that they would scatter. But her neck was still cold, so the vampires were still about.


She hurried down one of the flights of stairs, listening to her instincts, hoping to find them somewhere. A faint smell of smoke told her that there really was a fire burning somewhere in the opera house, but Victoria was not ready to leave yet.


She didn't know how long she pushed her way through the throngs of people, or exactly where she was going as she made her way down hallways and up and down varying flights of steps. But as time passed, the smoke grew thicker, and she could hear the crashes of parts of the building falling, and the muted roar of flames.


At last she burst out of a door and found herself in a balcony on the opposite side of the stage from where the Regalados' box had been. She knew there was a vampire nearby; she looked up and over and saw him, three boxes away and down.


He looked up from the man on whom he'd been feeding and saw her.


The flash of recognition was instant. It was the one Imperial vampire who'd escaped after murdering Polidori.


"You!" he cried, blood streaming messily from his mouth. "I thought you were dead!" He dropped his victim and leaped from the small balcony to the one next to it, clambering along its edge so he could position himself to launch up to her level.


Victoria saw the flames snake up the curtains an arm's length away, saw that it would take the vampire two more inhuman leaps to get to her own box, and made the decision: She had to face him.


He recognized her; if he got away, he would expose her to the Tutela. She had to fight him.


Dipping to pull the stake from under her skirts, she did not feel the movement behind her until she was snatched back from the balcony. A hand clamped over her mouth and strong arms pulled her back, into the darkness of the box.


"Don't," Max snarled in her ear, "fight."


She heard the vampire coming closer, struggled to tell him, but he was strong and relentless, and pulled her swiftly and smoothly out of the box.


The smoke was thicker in the hallway, but Max charged along the hall, pulling her behind him. It stung her eyes and made her cough, but it was not at a dangerous level yet. She could still breathe, still see. The flames were far away.


Max shoved her down a flight of stairs and into a small room, following her in and closing the door silently behind them. He pushed her up against the wall, face-first, sliding a hand over her mouth and holding it there much too tightly. She struggled to force him away, but he did not move except for the rhythm of his labored breathing against her back.


"Go home. Back to London. You cannot do anything here. Nedas is too strong. He is going to win." His lips brushed her ear as he spoke.


She struggled anew, tried her favorite move of slamming her head back into his face, which he easily evaded.


"Do you understand? Nod."


She nodded, then shook her head as much as she could under his hand. His other fingers were clasped around both of her wrists, holding them at the base of her back.


"Of course you aren't going to listen to me, are you? You're too damned naive. And headstrong. Be quiet or I will hurt you," he said fiercely in her ear, then released her. Victoria spun around and faced him.


There was a small window in the room that allowed enough moonlight in to illuminate his face. She saw nothing there that gave her comfort. It was harsh and angry and determined; his eyes, barely discernible, were flat.


"Perhaps this will convince you that I mean what I say." He was pulling at his unbuttoned shirt, yanking it back from his muscular shoulder and turning away from her so that she could see the mark there.


It was dark and heavy, there on the back of his shoulder, just above his scapula, and she recognized it. A T entwined with serpents.


"You see. I'm a member of the Tutela, and I adhere to their strictures. Does that convince you?" He was breathing harshly now, and turned back around to face her. "I'm bound to assassinate Venators. I am one of theirs."


"I don't believe you." But something inside her was turning. They were alone. No one could hear. Why would he lie? "If it's true, you must tell me why."


He drew in a deep breath and took her by the shoulders. His fingers were strong but not painful, and he positioned her so that his unbuttoned shirt brushed against her bosom as he looked down at her. "I made a bargain with Lilith. She promised to release me from her thrall if I joined the Tutela." His fingers dug into her skin and she twisted away. To her surprise, he allowed it.


"Is Lilith here, in Rome, then? Is that where you've been—with her?"


"No." His voice was strangled, as though he could barely force the word out. "She has been in her mountain hideaway far from here. I've seen her only once, when she offered to release me from her influence if I came back to the Tutela."


"So why do you not kill me now if you are bound to assassinate Venators?"


"I am giving you the chance to get away. This is your last chance. If I see you again, I will betray you to Regalado and the others. If I do not, then they will have no reason to trust me any longer."


Victoria laughed, short and bitter. "You've done nothing to protect me, then. That vampire I saw in the theater, the one you took me from when I would have fought him, recognized me. He knows I am a Venator and he will expose me. So the decision has been taken from you."