Her closed eyes were shadowed but at last fluttered, opening. Sebastian breathed easier. . . . She opened them, looked up at him. She looked at him, and he smiled, feeling the tug to one side of his mouth.
And then her gaze moved on, beyond, her eyes falling somewhere behind him. Her lips moved.
Sebastian recognized the look. Read the word, the simple name on her lips. Saw the expression on her face. It was his hand she clutched, her cold fingers gripping tightly. But the look was not meant for him.
He’d suspected . . . for far too long. Perhaps he’d always known, and that was part of the reason for the animosity, the discord, the enmity. He’d hoped, simply hoped he was wrong.
Hope drained away, leaving him empty.
He’d lost.
Twenty-nine
An Au Revoir
Wayren embraced Victoria, sending the warmth of something like maternal comfort washing over her . . . then pulled away to look into her eyes. Searching. “Yes, indeed,” she said, relief in her voice. “It’s gone. ”
Victoria looked at her. “You could see it?”
The woman nodded. “A shadow . . . perhaps not so different than what you saw in the eyes of the daytime vampires. I admit, it’s more obvious now that it’s no longer there. ”
It was late that night after they returned from Victoria’s near drowning in the sewers. Aunt Eustacia’s parlor was crowded with an unusual bulk of Venators: Brim, who was by far the most massive, Michalas, Sebastian, Max . . . and also Kritanu, who, despite the loss of his hand and the number of vampire bites, still seemed almost more complete than the latter two. He sat in the chair that had been Eustacia’s, near the piecrust table, silent and watchful.
Victoria looked at Michalas and Brim, then turned her attention to Sebastian. He watched her steadily, as though gulping in the sight of her. She wanted to flush. “It took you long enough to arrive,” she said, humor in her voice, trying to sound light . . . when inside she was a turmoil. She ached; her body ached and burned and still oozed blood. She’d easily be dead if she weren’t a Venator. “I’d begun to wonder if something had happened. ”
“You knew we were coming,” he replied. “It was your plan, and it worked flawlessly . . . except that that blaste
d carriage of Barth’s broke a wheel and delayed us. ”
Brim laughed. “Sebastian was fit to kill the man, as if it was his fault that the wheel broke. ”
“The way he drives, it likely was,” said Max from the corner. “It nearly cost us everything. ” His bitterness settled in the air.
There was a charged silence, and then Victoria spoke. “But it did not,” she said smoothly. “Not only did we ruin Lilith’s plan to assassinate the king, but I’m certain she’s not foolish enough to stay here in London any longer. Nor did she get the Ring of Jubai, which, thanks to Sebastian, Wayren can now add to the collection at the Consilium. ”
The others nodded.
“And so the Queen of England is a daytime vampire,” Brim said, disbelief in his voice. “How has no one realized this?”
“She’s been taking the elixir since she turned, I venture to say, which can’t have been very long ago. So she’s dying,” added Victoria simply. “I doubt she’ll last another week or two. ” She shrugged. “We could find a way to help her along, I’m certain . . . but I see no point in doing so. Why should we take the chance of being involved?” She frowned grimly. “I had a bad enough experience with the Bow Street Runners and Newgate that I wish to remain anonymous for awhile. ”
“And Gwendolyn. How long had she been undead?” asked Michalas.
Victoria suddenly felt impatient with the questions. She wanted everyone to leave . . . she needed time alone. So much had happened, so much had changed. She could hardly keep from looking at Max, gauging every scratch and scar and bruise on his face. And the rough bites on his neck . . . the ones that wouldn’t heal nearly as quickly as hers. But at least they were merely bites from Lilith, and nothing more.
And he, for his part, brooded in the corner, saying little. Sending her black looks that certainly did not bespeak affection. He was furious with her. Dark and angry . . . in a way he’d not been before.
It made her question what she’d seen in his eyes in Lilith’s lair. Had she imagined it?
And Sebastian . . . Victoria felt her stomach squeeze. He’d become aloof. Still cocksure and engaging, but . . . aloof. Since he’d pulled her from the water and rescued her from Bemis Goodwin, something had changed.
Affection surged in her . . . and apprehension. She had to talk with him. Her eyes fell to her scarred hands and she let Sebastian answer Michalas’s question with his own conjecture.
“It’s not certain how long she’d been undead, but she couldn’t have had the elixir for very long, of course. She must have begun taking it as soon as her brother returned from Italy—with the queen, and the serum. ”
He seemed to need to speak, whereas Max did nothing but glower from the corner. Victoria could feel his impatience, his need to get away.
“I have the suspicion,” Sebastian continued, “and perhaps we’ll never know for certain, that Gwendolyn was already part of the Tutela when Victoria and I were at her house party with John Polidori. She must have been planning something for a long time—and then she had to wait until we returned from Italy. ”