The Rest Falls Away by Colleen Gleason Page B

and her instincts. She wasn’t sure which room they had disappeared into…but when the ice at the back of her neck became almost painful in its intensity, she paused outside an ajar door.
    The vampire would be expecting her, but stealth wasn’t as imperative as skill and cunning. Could he sense her in the same way she could sense him? He must, or how else would he have known her?
    She toed the door open and waited. From her vantage point in the hallway near the wall, she could see into the chamber. It appeared to be a den. A fire burned across the way, and several large sofas flanked a red-and-orange Persian rug. A glimmer of movement caught her eye, and she watched as the faint shadow shifted.
    Was the shadow the vampire…or his victim, acting as a lure?
    The undead could be hiding behind the door, waiting for Victoria.
    She knew how to solve that. She kicked the door hard, and it swung open, slamming into the wall behind it and leaving the entire expanse of the room to her view.
    â€œAh. I see you have found us.”
    The woman sat on one of the settees, and the vampire stood menacingly behind her. Victoria’s heart thumped. Here she was, face-to-face with an undead. No advantage of surprise—and the additional problem of a victim.
    Then she heard footsteps hurrying down the long hallway. And her name, called low, with urgency. “Miss Grantworth?”
    Good gad. Lord Rockley!
    She leaped into the room and slammed the door shut, keeping her attention on the vampire, and her fingers wrapped around her stake. Drawing in a deep, cleansing breath as Kritanu had taught her, she settled into an offensive stance and looked at the vampire.
    â€œRelease her.” Victoria nodded toward the woman, who’d not moved one whit. Scared stiff, she was.
    â€œI think not,” the man purred. He stepped from around the settee and Victoria suddenly, fully understood what Aunt Eustacia meant when she spoke of the allure of the vampire. It crackled in the room, this awareness she felt…an inexorable drawing toward him. As if he held her strings in his hands and was tugging ever so gently.
    Without conscious thought, she dropped a hand to her belly and touched the vis bulla through the froth of her skirts. The headiness lessened. Her fingers gripped the stake. He stepped closer.
    His eyes, still normal but gleaming with a fierceness she’d seen only once—in the gaze of a mad dog that had had to be shot—never left hers. A smile curled his mouth.
    â€œSo you are the one. A woman Venator.”
    â€œYou seem to have the advantage of me,” she replied coolly. “But that’s no matter, as you won’t be around long enough to enjoy it.”
    A low laugh issued from his mouth, and she saw the gleam of fangs. His eyes narrowed, the pupils pinpointing and the irises burning pale pink, then delicate ruby red.
    â€œI’ve never had the taste of a Venator before. I’m sure it will be most fulfilling. Quite delectable.”
    Without warning he launched himself toward her, moving with such lightning speed it seemed as if he’d flown on a breath. His hands closed over her shoulders, taking her by surprise. She dropped the stake, and he laughed when it clattered onto his boots. His grip was painful, his sharp nails digging into the soft parts of her shoulders as she struggled to free herself.
    Before you, there have been only three other female Venators in the last decades of battle against Lilith. Two of them died hideous deaths shortly after they were inducted into the Legacy and received their vis bullae.
    She was damned if she was going to give Max the satisfaction of being the third.
    Victoria tipped her head back, then slammed her forehead into the face of the vampire, thanking Kritanu for making her practice this move so many times. She felt the squash of his hooked nose give way beneath the onslaught, and his reaction to the pain allowed her to jerk from his grip.