You must be strong.
Yes, and Macey too. She had no idea what awaited her.
r /> Wayren had returned. That alone meant something; surely it meant something. She was the one who'd led him on this path-or at least shown him the way. A century ago, Sebastian had made his choice freely and with a pure heart. He'd done it for love of Victoria, but most of all, for love of Giulia and the reclamation of her soul. Though Wayren had not yet spoken to him directly, her very presence was instrumental in acquiring Macey's agreement to take on the vis.
But now. . . what more must he accomplish before he could be released from this hell on earth?
Even in the dim bedchamber, he could see, of course. There was no need for a light, and so when his gaze happened to fall on his right hand, his attention was caught by the glint of the ever-present rings.
Five of them. One on each digit. Made from slender copper strands, each braided intricately and uniquely.
Forged by the malicious and magnificent Lilith the Dark, the Rings of Jubai had been acquired through a variety your great-great-grandmothert -of means by Victoria Gardella, Max Pesaro, and Sebastian himself a century ago. And it was Sebastian who'd insisted on wearing the rings and plunging his hand into the enchanted pool at Muntii Fagaras.
But when he was up to his elbow in the dangerous, mercurial pool, Giulia appeared to him as a reflection in the waters. Instead of the haunting, sensual dreams he usually had of her, this time she begged him to save her-something he'd never conceived as possible. And thus he'd embarked on the impossible task of redeeming the soul of a vampire. A vampire he'd slain. One he'd sent to hell.
The copper rings, which must be worn in order to immerse one's hand safely in the pool, had fused to his fingers. And there they had stayed for decades. Sebastian knew the only way they could be removed was upon his death, for copper was the only substance that remained after an undead was slain.
For all he cared, Chas Woodmore or Macey Gardella could pike him in the heart tomorrow and have the rings, if that was what was needed to fulfill his "long promise" and set both him and Giulia free.
In fact, he prayed for it. Daily. On his knees.
He'd long ago lost his sense of humor over being a vampire with a tainted soul, praying for divine intervention. He was done.
Release me. Please release me.
The whole idea of hunting vampires was so incomprehensible Macey could hardly wrap her mind around it. But the delicate dangle of her vis bulla against the sensitive skin of her belly was a constant reminder of how her life was to change.
And then there was the training.
"Temple isn't a Venator?" she asked Wayren, who seemed to be the only person willing to answer her questions without prevarication-and without some ulterior motive.
"No indeed. Temple is your Comitator. She'll train you in the hand-to-hand combat styles of kalaripayattu, qinggong, and tae kwon do, as well as how to handle a variety of blades. Each Venator is assigned one such person to act also as bodyguard and companion-especially for their early days when things are still new. "
"Bodyguard?"
"A Venator can't always be awake and aware," Sebastian told her with a wry smile. "And though Chas and I will be here, it never hurts to have someone to help. Don't expect her to come with you on the hunt. Temple's an excellent fighter, but she's not equipped as you are. Interestingly enough, most born Venators would have received some training before facing their first undead and receiving the vis. You took matters into your own hands. I do hope that isn't going to be a portent of the future, ma cherie. "
Chas made a coincidence sly derisive sound, then lapsed into silence. Macey ignored him.
The same day she received her vis bulla, she began her training with Temple. They worked in a basement room beneath Cookie's Smart Millinery (apparently, Cookie really was Temple's aunt). The underground chamber was large, taking up what would be the same space as the back room of the millinery shop. But it was empty of furnishings other than a wall lined with cabinets. The walls were strung with electric lights, the floor covered with an unusual tile made from cork, and a stack of large cushions leaned against a corner. In the cabinets Macey saw an array of stakes, pikes, and knives-everything from scythe-like curved blades to finger-sized stilettos to daggers and swords of European and Asian influence. She wasn't surprised to note there were no guns to be seen, for a bullet would have no effect on a vampire.
But a sword, she learned, could be used to behead an undead, and was just as effective as stabbing one through the heart. Both actions resulted in the same explosion of undead dust.
Temple, her long, lean body covered by a pair of loose cotton trousers and a matching undyed tunic, looked fierce, elegant, and intimidating. Macey, dressed in similar clothing, barely reached to her trainer's chin, and the other woman had smooth muscles in her arms.
How am I ever going to do this? She's going to flatten me.
But when Temple lunged gracefully toward her, Macey reacted without thinking. She ducked, grabbed the other woman as she slipped beneath her arm, and on her upward thrust, fairly threw her across the chamber.
"Oh my God!" Macey gawked as Temple pulled to her feet. "Did I do that?"
Despite being dumped in a heap, the other woman was smiling broadly. "You certainly did. " She dusted herself off and walked back, her almond eyes gleaming with challenge and anticipation. "This is going to be more fun than I thought. "
Macey knew without being told she couldn't share any information about this new part of her life with the people Chas termed "civilians"-Flora, Jimmy, Mrs. Gutchinson, her boss, or her other friends. Even Grady, if she could count him as a friend. After all, she'd only known him for a few days.
Macey was also aware she had much to learn about the undead and how to combat them. But when Sebastian suggested she didn't need to report to her job at the Harper Library on Monday morning, she immediately disabused him of that notion.
"Of course I have to go to work," she said, adjusting her left stocking so the line up the back of her calf was straight. She was going to be late if she didn't leave in five minutes. "How else am I going to pay for my rent, or my food and clothes?"