As Shadows Fade (30 page)

She sank onto the nearest bed, the one Sebastian had used, and read it again.

Victoria— I've gone for Max. Know that I will always love you though you foolishly chose another. That's why I'm going, no matter what may come. Ask Wayren about Rosamunde's prophecies. Tell her I've made the long promise. Above all, keep yourself and the new Gardella safe.
—S

Damn and blast.
Damn and blast.

Trust Sebastian to write an adieu that would bring both pain and hope.

She folded the paper once, twice, thrice.
The new Gardella.

Did he know for certain, or was he merely guessing? Or was that simply Sebastian, being wry and amusing?

She'd only recently suspected it herself.

Sebastian, you fool. I need you, too.

Was she going to lose them both now?

She looked back at the mountain, nearly two days' ride behind her, purple-black in the distance, with a swatch of sunlight beaming onto it from between a break in the trees.

Godspeed, Sebastian. Bring both of you back safely.

+ Nineteen +

Of Dreams and Sacrifice, and the Incurrence of a Debt

Sebastian woke just before
dawn to find Wayren standing before him.

Or, at least, he thought it was Wayren…but perhaps it was a hallucination. She seemed insubstantial, and she glowed. Perhaps he was dreaming…but at least it wasn't a nightmare of Giulia begging and pleading with him. Although if it weren't to be a nightmare, he'd prefer he went back to the old dreams, where his lover wrapped him in her long, dark hair, and they rolled in a nocturnal bed together…rather than dreaming about an angel.

It just didn't seem right.

The obnoxious snore next to him told him the other traveler who bunked in his room was still sleeping soundly. The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, and he'd be back to the mountain in a few hours.

“Sebastian,” said a voice, and he looked over.

She was still there.

“Am I dreaming? Wayren?”

“I'm here. I've come to wish you luck and bring blessings.”

He nodded. Whether it was a dream or not, he felt contentment.

Wayren's presence in the past had been a source of discomfort for him when he knew he wasn't being true to his calling or following through on his duty. Now her presence—whether it be real or in a dream—felt like a commendation of sorts, an acknowledgment and a blessing.

“And I came to bring you this. Wear this and don't remove it, and…it will help.”

Something silver glinted in the dusky light, then plopped onto the bed next to him. A ring, heavy and silver, set with a garnet the size of his thumbnail.

“What is it?”

“It will help you follow through on your intent and keep you strong in the face of weakness. I can do nothing else. The rest is up to you.”

He picked up the ring and slid it onto the middle finger of his left hand. “Thank you.” He then he looked at her. “And thank you for Rosamunde's papers. They led me here.”

“I hoped—I was certain they would.” She nodded, her blond hair shifting with the movement. She paused; then he felt the wisp of a touch on his hand, and still wasn't certain if it was real or imagined. “You'll do well, Sebastian Vioget.”

And then he woke up.

The silver ring was on his finger, the sun was blazing just atop the horizon…and he was ready to begin his last day of life.

Two hours later, Sebastian stood at the stone crevice that led to Lilith's hideaway.

He had no trouble gaining entrance to Lilith's lair once he showed the five rings to her guards and surrendered his stakes. They didn't attempt to take the silver ring Wayren had given him, which he wore on his other hand. Sebastian didn't intend for this little meeting to last more than an hour, and he was arriving at the high point of noon.

He was taken to the same room as before, only a short walk down a twisting corridor made of stone.

The chamber appeared the same, and he greeted Lilith calmly. She sat on her chaise, just as she had the last time they'd met. Today, she wore a gown of black, which made her skin appear starkly blue-white.

Sebastian didn't see Pesaro at first. When he did, he needed all his strength not to react. Merciful God.

How long had it been? Three days? Barely three days. And look at him.

Sebastian tore his eyes away from the man, faltering for a moment, struggling to hide his shock as he gathered his composure. Never had he seen a man who possessed such strength and power brought to such depths, such vulnerability. Such emptiness in his eyes, an absence of hope—or even comprehension—in his face.

Would he look that way himself after a day? Two days? Sebastian's stomach roiled, threatening to spill its contents.

Save me.

Sebastian took a deep breath. He looked back at Lilith, careful not to eye her directly and become trapped by her gaze. He forced himself to ignore Pesaro. Things would be different for him. He would make certain of it.

“Beauregard's grandson, how kind of you to join us.” Lilith trained the force of her blue-red gaze on him, and though he avoided it, he still felt its staggering weight…and the lure. He struggled for breath for a moment, reaching his hand through the slit of his shirt to touch the
vis bulla
there.

A zip of strength passed through him, followed by another breath of power. He was the grandson of Beauregard.

He was a Venator.

“I've come for Pesaro,” he said, then took a little breath to collect himself and his thoughts. He had to handle Lilith differently from how Pesaro had. “Why do you not release the poor bastard? He looks as though he can provide little amusement in his condition.”

Lilith looked at him through sly eyes. She raised a slender eyebrow and smiled. “I have no intention of releasing him. But now that you're here, perhaps you might stay. The three of us would have such an amusing time.”

“What an intriguing thought,” he said, making his voice low and liquid. He allowed his eyes to slide slowly over her. If there was one thing he knew, it was how to appeal to female vanity. “But I must confess…I don't like to share. I should find him just as intrusive here as I always have.”

“Lucifer's staff, you sound much like your grandfather.” Lilith gave a low, surprised laugh. “And you look a bit like him, too—around the jaw and chin. And the mouth.” Her attention settled there on his lips for a moment. “I was always fond of Beauregard, Sebastian Vioget. It was too bad he angered me back in fourteen fifty-two during that episode in Vienna, or we might have been eternally happy together.”

“So that explains why you never gifted him with one of the rings.” Sebastian held up his right hand. “But that matters no longer. Bygones shall be bygones, shan't they? And…I wear the Rings of Jubai. All of them.”

She sat upright, interest gleaming in her eyes. “So you have breached the pool. Did you retrieve the orb?”

“We have the orb, and the portal shall be closed. But Mercy seemed to be more interested in something else at the bottom of the pool.”

Lilith's gaze sharpened, and she seemed to understand that her plans had gone awry. “You still wear the rings.”

“I do, and shall forever, or so it appears. They cannot be removed.”

“I don't believe you. Take them off, or I shall remove them for you.”

Sebastian dredged up his most charming, provocative smile. “Is that a threat or an offer, Lilith?” He surreptitiously touched the
vis
beneath his shirt again as he maintained that smile.

“You truly cannot remove the rings?”

“Indeed not. They have fused to my flesh.”

She watched him closely as if to read what was in his mind. “Why, then, are you here?” she asked at last, settling back onto her chaise.

Sebastian nodded. “Ah, so now we shall speak frankly. I am here to exchange myself for Pesaro. Apparently you're in need of a concubine who can…shall we say…keep pace with you?”

Lilith gave a small laugh, but there was a hint of confusion underlying the derision. “And why would I make such a trade as that? You're here, and so is he, and all I need do is give the command, and I'll have you both.”

“I'm sorry to disappoint you, my lady,” Sebastian said, “but that's not quite right. You see, I am willing to trade myself to you…for all eternity, myself and the Rings of Jubai…only on the condition that you release Max Pesaro. If you aren't willing to do so, then we'll both be dead in a moment…and not only will you not have either of us, but you won't have the Rings nor any way to retrieve the pyramid at the bottom of the pool.”

“How do you know about the prism?”

“Mercy told me. She had to be persuaded to tell, of course, when I declined to reach my hand back in and search for it. But when she saw that I could not remove the rings, and that she and her companion—did I forget to mention that the Guardian found himself skewered by a stake shortly after we retrieved the orb? As for Mercy and the other…well, they annoyed our
Summa
Gardella. So they are no more, I regret to say. But now you might have me to replace them, if you choose to negotiate.”

“What's to stop me from forcing you to go there now and get it for me?”

“This.” Sebastian produced a small tube no wider in circumference than the stem of a flower. A simple weapon that had aroused no suspicion in the guards who'd relieved him of his stakes and sword. “I'll shoot the poison dart the moment you move to call for your guards, or do something other than what I ask. Pesaro will be dead immediately…for I won't miss. And as for me, I also have my own poison ready. Both us will be dead before you can blink.”

“But the rings…I can remove them from your fingers after you've died,” Lilith said dismissively. Yet he saw wariness in her eyes.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Or perhaps you might attempt burning them off my flesh after I'm dead…but then again, the rings and their power might be destroyed in the process. Are you willing to take the chance?” He stepped closer. “And indeed, why would you? I'm offering myself to you…Beauregard's grandson. What a coup that will be for you. And, quite frankly, I'm much more entertaining than that brooding sod in the corner. I've never been able to comprehend what attracted you to him. He cannot be entertaining in the least. While I…Well, you were acquainted with Beauregard.”

The words tripped off his tongue with ease. Sebastian had seduced and wooed women for years, and it was simple to fall back into the pattern. He tried to forget that this was different; that the result of this
tête-à-tête
would have far-reaching, eternal effects.

He could make it through…one day at a time.

One day at a time of his long promise. And at the end of it, he'd know it was for Giulia…and for Victoria…that he'd sacrificed.

“So it is you or neither of you?”

“Indeed. You have little choice, but I do believe you'll get the better end of the bargain.”

Lilith rose from her chaise and paced the chamber. When she walked over to Pesaro, her hand strayed down his dark head and over his bowed shoulders. He made no acknowledgment of her touch, remaining still and quiet as if in a stupor. “And I'm to believe that you can dispatch my darling pet at a moment's notice?”

Quickly, he put the tube to his lips and blew sharply. The dart shot through the air and embedded itself into the front of Pesaro's shoulder, just below Lilith's own hand. Max gave no indication he'd been struck, but she looked at him in surprise…and delight.

“Indeed. I trust that was merely a warning? An example of your…shall we say…alacrity?”

Sebastian nodded, praying she wouldn't call his bluff. In fact, none of the darts were poisonous. He brandished the little tube. “I have three more in here, all of which do carry the poison. The next one will kill him, and then me.”

“You give me an impossible choice,” Lilith said, thrusting her fingers deep into the back of Pesaro's hair. She jerked his face up toward her and bent to nibble languidly at his chin and jaw. “I don't wish to let him go.”

Sebastian swallowed, but bestowed one of his most charming smiles. “A difficult choice, but not nearly as impossible as one you gave him only a few days ago. Come now, Lilith…you know you will be the better off. That prism alone must be worth giving up the presence of a man who does little but brood and cause you problems. And aside from that…you'll have Beauregard's grandson. A Venator. To do with what you will.”

Her eyes flickered to him, and again he felt the tug of her gaze trying to wrap warmly around him. She walked back to her chaise and settled back onto her place. “Very well, then. You've convinced me, Sebastian Vioget. I'll accept your trade.”

Sebastian felt a wave of relief, but he remained impassive except for the trace of a smile on his lips. He brandished the hand that held the tube. “I'm delighted, but I must ask that you remain in your place until we've finished the details. I wouldn't want any sudden move of yours to be misinterpreted by me, and there to be an accident.” He smiled and recognized the begrudging respect in her face.

“Very well. Tell me how this is to proceed.”

He kept the tube near his lips as he ordered one of Lilith's lurking guards to unchain Pesaro. She moved to the blank-eyed, bloodied, nude figure of Pesaro and helped him to his feet.

The man staggered, and took a moment to find his bearings. But when he looked up at Sebastian, the cloudiness in his eyes had disappeared, leaving Sebastian to wonder how much of it had been an act to keep Lilith bored and away from him. And he wondered how much he had understood of the conversation.

“What are you doing here?” Pesaro mumbled.

Sebastian understood the question he was really asking—whether Victoria was still alive—and for a moment, one last bit of jealous perversity nearly kept him from answering. The sod would find out soon enough, and be able to spend the rest of his days with her, while he—