Macey spun at the sound of the condemning are you talking about?. lap voice. Chas walked through the door, dark and slick and gloomy. He was dripping wet, for it had begun to pour rain just as Macey and Temple arrived at The Silver Chalice.
"If you are called as a born Venator, you must either give your life for the legacy, or you deny your Calling. If you do, your mind is erased of all knowledge. You live in ignorant oblivion. "
Macey stared at Chas. "You said that before. . . but do you mean that literally?"
"Of course. I told you yesterday. "
She turned to Sebastian, whose sensual, angelic appearance had turned black and furious. Chas sauntered past the table that had been set up in the center of the room and took a seat in a plump brown armchair, heedless of his soaked clothing. He crossed his legs and gave Sebastian an amiable smile.
"It is true?" she said to Sebastian, knowing this was her last chance to change her mind.
"It is. " The words sounded as if they were wrung from his throat.
Silence hung, taut, in the room for a moment. Macey tried to steady her breathing, grab hold of her thoughts. Temple had taken her through Cookie's Smart Millinery and down into a hidden cellar, which led to a tunnel connected to Sebastian's quarters. Once she delivered Macey, Temple had taken herself off somewhere, leaving Macey with Sebastian-and now Chas.
She looked around, taking a moment to examine the space as a way to clear her mind. This was a chamber she'd not seen on her previous visit to the Chalice. Attached to Sebastian's private quarters, the rectangular area was more of a library or office than a living room.
There were two doors at opposite ends of the room-one through which they'd entered, passing through the parlor in which she'd originally met Sebastian. Filled bookshelves lined one wall. Two armchairs-where Chas currently left small puddles on the rug-were arranged in front of a desk, sporting stacks of books and papers, a lamp, and writing implements. A glass-doored cabinet on the shortest, far wall held a variety of curious objects-odd statues, unusual jewelry including a tarnished metal cuff. Even a large, shiny black splinter made of some material she couldn't identify. The items looked like artifacts, as if they belonged in a museum. A large book that appeared to be a Bible sat on a shelf in the center of the cabinet. Arranged on a bookstand, the tome was open to a page Macey would swear had been hand-lettered by a twelfth-century monk.
Her fingers itched to examine the book, and she could hardly keep her eyes away. She didn't work at a library for nothing.
The tension in the room was still high, and Macey hadn't formulated her response when the far door opened. Immediately, a sense of peace filled the place, as if a glass wall had shattered and allowed air to flow freely.
A woman glided through the door and Macey stared. She'd never seen anyone dressed like her: in a simple, undyed floor-length gown that reminded her of illustration plates of Lady Guinevere, with wrist-length sleeves that had cuffs long enough to d sooner rather than later. , and 7Vrag on the ground. Her waist was cinched with a simple chain belt-silver-and her pale moonbeam hair reached well below the links. Two sets of three narrow braids at her temples were gathered back from her face and plaited together to hang down the back of her hip-length, loose hair. Despite her medieval garb, the woman carried a modern leather satchel.
She smiled at the three of them, and Macey felt another wave of unexpected warmth and comfort settle over her. She looked at Sebastian, who wore what could only be described as an expression of chagrin-as if he'd been caught with a hand in the candy jar. Chas stilled and seemed to sink deeper into the embrace of his armchair.
Neither of them spoke, and the woman turned calm gray-blue eyes toward her. Macey considered, but couldn't decide how old she thought the new arrival was. Certainly older than she, but not old at all. It was as if she were ageless.
The woman inclined her head. "Macey Denton. You are very nearly the image of your great-great-grandmother. "
"But with her great-great-grandfather's eyes. " Sebastian spoke at last, his voice low. Then he addressed the newcomer. "And what a sight for sore eyes you are, madame. I've been wondering when-or if-you might. . . er. . . grace us with your presence ever again. " He gave a short, tight laugh.
She turned a bemused smile on him, and Macey watched in fascination as Sebastian's show of irritation eased. Once again she thought he resembled a shamefaced little boy, caught doing something wrong by someone he adored and yet feared. And Chas looked as if he wished to be anywhere but here, yet was afraid to get up and leave.
Macey, intrigued but not intimidated, spoke to her. "You seem to know me-and you're the only person so far to call me by my real name. But who are you?"
"I'm Wayren, of course. " Her bemused smile widened as she glanced at Sebastian and Chas. "I'm not certain whether I should be pleased or offended neither of these two fine gentlemen have spoken to you of me. "
"Since you haven't made an appearance in over a decade, I wasn't expecting to have to introduce you to Macey anyway," Sebastian said. "Aside from the fact that no mere words can do you justice, of course. Even I dared not attempt it. " He gave her a genuine smile, clearly more at ease now. In fact, Macey thought she detected a definite sense of relief.
"It was time to return," Wayren said simply, then looked at Macey. Her gaze, though mild and warm, seemed to penetrate deep. "Your given name is certainly Denton, but more importantly, your legacy is Gardella. Have you made your decision?"
"I. . . think so. "
"First it's try, and now it's think? For God's sake, there can be no hesitation for a Venator. You either take up the stake, wed it, and live with it, or you exist in ignorance!"
To Macey's surprise, Chas's outburst elicited nothing but a glance from Wayren. Not even a lifted brow for punctuation. She returned her attention to Macey. "Perhaps I should send them away so the two of us can speak without interruption. "
At that, Macey smiled. "That's the most sense anyone's made since Temple dragged me out of The Gyro and tried to force me down the stairs to meet Sebastian. "
"Indeed. I can imagine how that must have gone. " Wayren laughed lightly and charming little crinkles appeared at the corners of her eyes, which had turned to a clear cerulean blue.
"I pushed him down the stairs. "
"Of course you did. "
She must have seen Macey's eyes flicker toward the ancient book in the cabinet, for the next thing she knew, Wayren was going over to it and then opening the doors. "This is the Gardella family Bible. The oldest pages have been in the family since the mystic Rosamunde recorded her prophecies in them at Lock Rose Abbey in the twelfth century. "