“They showed a little more mercy to him,” Chas said grimly. “Looks like they just cut his throat after they shot him. Instead of…”
“Temple must have fought back; maybe she tried to protect him. Maybe they used him to get her to tell them where the pyramid was…or maybe it wasn’t that simple.” Macey felt a sudden, ugly chill down her spine.
If she was right, and Flora had been here… Well, Flora had never liked Temple. She’d been jealous of her friendship with Macey.
The mutilation, especially of her lovely face, seemed to be a personal attack. Macey stepped back, staring blankly around the room.
Could Flora really be capable of such violence? The mischievous carrot-top who’d been so tall and gangly, so fun and goofy…?
Of course she could. She was a vampire now. An undead. A soulless, damned demon.
Macey shook her head, feeling even more ill. What have I wrought?
It was because of her decision to join the Venators, to take on this vocation, that she and Flora had grown apart. It was because she’d had a good job at the Harper Library at the university that Macey urged Flora to find something just as exciting and well paid—and made her feel so inadequate that she eventually found a job at the vampire cabaret called The Blood Club.
It was because of Macey that Flora felt lost and alone, and had been so easily seduced by the undead Count Alvisi into becoming an immortal herself…all in the name of competing with, or being as good as, her friend.
“I…” Macey could hardly breathe. Her insides were in knots, her palms clammy, her head suddenly light.
“What is it?” Chas pulled her into his arms, wrapping her tightly in his embrace, as if to protect her from the thoughts and horror that surrounded her.
“She hated Temple,” Macey mumbled into his shirt. “Because of me.”
The exterior door opened and Max walked in, then halted at the sight of the sheet-covered bodies. “God have mercy,” he said, after bending to look beneath Temple’s sheet.
“Hell hath no fury,” Macey said, lifting her head from Chas’s chest.
“You believe your friend Flora did this?”
Macey nodded.
Max gave a bitter curse and shook his head. Carefully replacing the sheet, he stood and surveyed the room, hands on his hips. And swore again.
Then, as if remembering something, he glanced behind and gestured at the door. “I’ve got a bloke here to join our team, such as it is. I’ve known him for years, and he has a set of particular skills that could come in handy.”
Macey automatically stepped away from Chas, curious about whom her father would have brought on to help. As if Max Denton would need help…would he? Was it another Venator? Someone from Rome, perhaps?
When a familiar figure stepped through the doorway, Macey’s mind went utterly blank and all feeling drained from her face.
“Meet my old mate from London, Jameson Grady—goes by Grady,” Max said. “Don’t say James or Jimmy or even Jameson.”
“Unless you’re ordering the whiskey,” said Grady with a crooked grin. His eyes swept over Macey and Chas as he gave each of them a nod of acknowledgment. “Hello.”
Macey was lightheaded, and a hundred questions exploded in her mind. Her father knew Grady? Grady knew her father? How long had they known each other? What was he doing here? How could this be happening?
And how could he even be on his feet after the condition he’d been in at the school? He did look pale and drawn, and he was, she noticed, holding himself awkwardly—as if trying to ignore pain. He leaned lightly against the wall.
“…my daughter, Macey,” Max was saying.
“Oh, I’ve met Macey,” Grady replied, and her heart stopped, lodging in her throat.
She opened her mouth to speak—though she didn’t know what to say, and her heart was pounding so hard she thought she might pass out. What in the world was going on? She felt as if she’d been on a carousel for hours, and just stepped off it to find the world still spinning out of control.
But then Grady continued, “We met at the photography exhibit Saturday night.” His smile was charming and yet impersonal—exactly how it should be, meeting his friend’s daughter.
The mention of the photography exhibit also reminded Macey of Miss Sabrina Ellison, and her insides twisted and coiled even more tightly. Just what she needed. Grady around and the knowledge that he’d already found someone to replace her.
“I’m not sure we need to bring anyone else into this mess, Denton,” Chas said, moving closer to Macey. He was the only other person in the room who realized the awkwardness of the situation, and she was grateful for his presence. “Especially a civilian. Who is, from the looks of it, hardly able to stand from his own injuries.”
Max’s smile turned cool and hard. Clearly, the summas would brook no disagreement. “Right. You weren’t here when everything happened, were you, Woodmore? As it happens, it was Grady who was instrumental in helping the girls to escape today. And through his entire encounter with Iscariot,” Max continued, speaking very deliberately, “he remained undaunted, and succeeded in saving many lives.”
Macey caught her breath and her attention snapped to Max’s gaze. No. Surely not. But her father gave a barely perceptible nod. Chas tensed with the same shock and disbelief, but Macey hardly noticed…for it felt as if the floor was disintegrating at her feet.
Everything was falling away. Everything she knew and believed and trusted…was…confused.
How could it be? Grady wasn’t even a Venator…was he? No, of course he wasn’t—she’d seen him…everywhere…and no vis bulla in sight.
“May I speak with you for a moment, Father?” she said flatly.
Max lifted a sardonic brow—whether it was due to her using the word “father” for the first time, albeit in a sarcastic manner, or the fact that she was daring to question the summas, she didn’t know. And she didn’t bloody care.
Nevertheless, he did acquiesce—a measure of the respect he must have for her.
“Are you loony?” she said the moment they stepped into the back hall of the pub. “Bringing a civilian into something like this? Even if he is the dauntless one, we don’t need his help anymore. Iscariot’s dead.”
“I’ve known the man for years,” Max replied. “He’s damned good—”
“And so are you, and so am I, and so is Chas! We don’t need him. Did you see what Flora did to Temple?” Tears stung her eyes. It was madness. All of this was madness. “A man like him isn’t equipped—”
“He went into the school today on his own and came out alive—thanks to his own doing.” Max held up an imperious hand. “It’s better to know what he’s doing than chance that he might take matters into his own hands. Aside from that, he’s quite skilled in a number of—”
“I thought you said we should ignore the prophecy and just do what we had to do,” she said. Her voice was wobbly, blast it, and she could feel the beginning of tears stinging her eyes.
“He’ll join us,” Max said, his voice flat and final.
Damn, oh damn! Here she was, in the very position she’d tried so hard to keep herself (and Grady) out of—and it was even worse, because Grady didn’t remember her.
He didn’t even know her anymore. Yet here he was, shoulder-deep in danger and the business of killing vampires.
Dammit.
TWENTY
~ Of Family Legends and Swooning ~
In Macey’s estimation, facing Iscariot again would almost have been preferable to the way things happened in the next few hours.
“No one is going to stay here,” Max said, referring to The Silver Chalice and, by extension, its attached apartments. “It’s already been breached by the undead—incidentally, I can only assume this Flora was able to enter because Temple didn’t know she was an undead, and invited her in.”
Macey shook her head glumly. “Temple knew who Flora was. She wouldn’t have invited her in.”
“I allowed her in,” Chas said flatly. “Originally.”
“Right, then.” Max didn’t sound judgmental, but Macey heard Chas’s self-recrimination loud and clear.
His inability to stop the female vampire had caused even more damage. She reached over and squeezed his hand, noticing as she did so that Grady was watching.
“She planned it perfectly—it all happened while we were busy with Iscariot at the Beedle school,” said Macey.
“A classic example of distraction and misdirection—the same tactic used by illusionists and escape artists,” Grady commented, glancing at Max.
“Precisely,” the summas said. “Now then, no one is going to remain here, for a number of reasons. Grady has offered his place for the time being.” When Macey opened her mouth to protest—oh God, no!—her father gave her brittle look. “I’ve been staying there myself, and it’s not only extremely secure, but large enough for us all. And it has a telephone.”
“Macey can sleep at my place,” Chas said. “With me. It’s secure, and it has a telephone as well.”
Max turned to him. “I want Macey near me.”