"In order to succeed, Lilith must destroy your aunt," Max said. "At the same time, she has sent hordes of vampires and demons throughout the world to turn as many to their way as possible. In order to feed on their blood, they bite the neck of their victim—not the chest, as is commonly believed—"
"But they leave a marking, don't they?" Victoria interrupted, comprehension dawning in her face. "Three Xs on the bosom of the victim, as found on the corpse of those men near the wharf. That was a vampire, wasn't it?"
"You are very well-informed for a young girl," Max commented.
Eustacia hastened to step in. "Indeed, you are correct, Victoria; although I can't imagine how you would know that. Three Xs representing the thirty pieces of silver Judas was paid for betraying Jesus."
"Which explains their fear of anything made from silver. That fool Quentworth was most definitely a victim of one of Lilith's vampires, and we have worked very diligently to keep any hint of vampirism from being attached to his death. It was fortuitous for him that he wasn't turned. As you likely are aware," Max said, looking down his long, straight nose at Victoria, "if a vampire feeds on a mortal, it is often deadly… but if he—or she—chooses, he may partake of the human's blood, and offer his own blood back to the human in a kind of mating ritual. If that occurs, the human is sired, or turned into a vampire. So a vampire bite may kill a mortal, or may turn one to an undead. And there are occasions when neither happens, when the bite is not deep enough to kill. Our job—"
Eustacia interrupted. "Our job is to destroy as many of them as possible while attempting to learn what Lilith is planning to do to seize power. We know that she has moved the bulk of her court to London; where she is hiding I do not know, and Max has not yet been able to ascertain. She is here not only because I am here, but because she seeks something called the Book of Anwarth, which we know nothing about as yet."
"We Venators have always stopped her in the past. Although in the past, we have not been forced to rely upon young girls newly out of strings," Max said with uncharacteristic nastiness. "I do hope you will find time betwixt filling your dance card and selecting your ball gowns to help us."
Her niece had risen from her seat and placed herself in front of Max, who'd refused to move from his lounging position on the settee. "Filling my dance cards? Lord Max, or whatever it is that I must call you, I'll have you know that I left my debut—I missed a waltz with the Marquess of Rockley!—in order to protect you from a vampire attack. The status of my dance card remained forgotten as I followed you and your companion out-of-doors—"
"Protect me? Yes, indeed, you were protecting me from my own sharp fangs, weren't you?"
"How was I to know you were a Venator? You did not see fit to divulge that information to me until you could crow with joy at my mistake. But the fact remains that I did what had to be done. And I will do what has to be done in the future."
"Victoria. Max. Please. We cannot allow ourselves to be divided at this time. Victoria, you must understand. Before you, there have been only three other female Venators in the last century of battle against Lilith. Two of them died hideous deaths shortly after they were inducted into the Legacy and received their vis bullae."
"And the third is sitting here with us as we speak." Max inclined his head toward Eustacia. "There are none who could or will hold a candle to you, signora—or, if I may say—a stake. You are truly the Chosen one, the Gardella who will unite us and lead us to Lilith's downfall."
Victoria turned to Eustacia in astonishment. "You are a vampire hunter? A Venator?"
Max snorted. "No, of course not. Lilith the Dark fears your aunt because she sits at home and has her hair dressed daily. Of course she is a Venator."
Eustacia had to give Victoria credit: She did not give a flicker of indication that she had heard Max's derisive comments. "I didn't realize, Aunt. I believed you were a teacher of sorts, a guide. Like Kritanu. I did not know you hunted vampires."
"Indeed. And you, my dear, are the next of my direct bloodline, that of the first Gardella Venator, who has been Chosen—and who has accepted the burden."
"And that," Max said as he rose to his feet, "is the precise reason Lilith the Dark has been so determined to find this Book of Anwarth quickly, before you finish your training." His tone suggested that he didn't understand why Lilith would find Victoria any great threat. "I must excuse myself now, signora. The moonlit streets await."
"I'll get my stake," said Victoria.
Max drew himself to his imposing height and looked down his long, narrow nose. He truly was magnificent, Eustacia thought fondly. "Your offer of assistance is appreciated, Miss Grantworth, but I believe I will be able to handle three vampires without putting you at the risk of tearing your skirt or losing your bonnet. And, alas, it would be no virtue if you mistakenly staked a night watchman or a—what is the name—a Runner." He drew on his cloak and from its depths pulled out a wicked-looking black stake. "When you've had a little more practice, and received your vis amulet, I am sure you will find yourself on your own patrols."
With that, he gave a little bow and swept from the room.
Eustacia was almost dreading turning back to her niece—knowing exactly what she would see on her face and in her posture. What had gotten into Max? He wasn't one to mince words, true, and from the expression on his face, he was worried about more than three unexceptional vampires… yet he had been more acerbic than usual with Victoria.
It was almost as if he wanted to discourage her from pursuing the work.
Perhaps that was it. Perhaps he didn't feel she was prepared for her role.Eustacia reached absently to stroke Victoria's shiny black hair. She felt the same hesitation about exposing her beloved niece to the evil in the world… but at this time, she didn't have any choice.
Victoria had been Chosen, and she'd accepted her fate.
Now they would have to trust that she would succeed.
Two days after Maximilian swept from the room, setting off to fight vampires, Victoria had contrived an excuse to miss an afternoon of making calls in favor of visiting her great-aunt.
Today was a most important day: She had passed her test by staking her first vampire, and she was to receive her vis bulla.
Now here she was, about to take the last step toward her destiny. Victoria and her aunt were in a small room on the first floor of the Gardella home. The windows were draped with heavy curtains, and the furnishings were spare and simple, except for a tall cupboard at one end of the room. It was as high as Victoria's forehead, bearing ornate carvings along the edges of the two doors that shuttered its contents.
Candles burned about the room, and small pots resting above the heat of the flames simmered herbs and water, releasing the scents of verbena and myrrh into the air. A large crucifix hung on one wall, simple yet commanding. It was made of two long pieces of wood fitted together, but with no other ornamentation. A long table held haphazard stacks of old books along with some jars and pots of herbs, oils, and other items Victoria could not identify.
"The vis bulla is the most critical tool to a Venator's success," Aunt Eustacia told her as she sat in her large, cushioned chair. It was the only piece of furniture that looked comfortable. "Today, as you accept yours, you also accept your destiny of belonging to the Gardella Legacy. You devote your life to the work of eliminating the evil of the undead from this earth, protecting mortals from the persistent creep of Satan and his followers. Upon your acceptance, Victoria, you must understand—there is no turning back."
"What would happen if I decided not to accept the vis bulla?"
Eustacia stilled, looking at her with sudden, sharp eyes. "Is that what you wish?"
"No, Aunt. I have made my decision. I will accept the Legacy. But I wondered what would happen."
Her aunt seemed to relax. "If you chose not to go further, you would undergo a ritual in which your mind would be wiped clean of all knowledge you've received heretofore, and you would lose any and all innate skill or sensitivities you have for being a Venator—skills that you were born with, that merely remained dormant until the dreams came. Those skills and inherent sensations would be given to another."
"Has anyone ever done such a thing?"
"Indeed, yes. Many times over the years a young man—and in a few cases, a young woman—chose to return to a life of ignorance."
"And they know nothing about this? Nothing they would see or hear would trigger their mind and make them remember?"
"Nothing. It is to protect them as well as to protect us."
"Is there… is there anyone I know who was Chosen, but did not accept the vis bulla?"
"Yes, Victoria. Your mother was one such person. And because she chose not to fulfill the Legacy, her powers were passed on to you."
"My mother?"
Eustacia nodded. "Si. She had met your father and had fallen in love with him during her debut season when the dreams began to come. When the time came for her to make her choice, she chose your father."
"Are there any… repercussions for one who is Chosen and does not accept the Legacy?"
Eustacia took Victoria's hands in her frail, cool ones. "The only consequence is lost knowledge, and the fact that the powers and instincts will pass on to a descendent. And the powers passed on will be multiplied by the number of generations who have chosen to deny the Legacy. In your case, you are the third in a line of people who have not accepted the Legacy, so it is probable that you have great skill and instinct within you."
"The third generation? My mother and who else? Who ignored the Legacy and allowed it to be passed to Mother?"
"My brother. Your mother's father, Renald. I was already Chosen when Renald had the dreams. It was very unusual for two people so closely related to be called at the same time. But my brother chose not to accept the task, and then your mother did the same. And so now we are here. You and I, Victoria. The only Gardellas who are directly of the Gardella line. The rest are from far-flung branches of the family. Their powers are more diluted than ours. And there are even some Venators who are not blood-related to us and have chosen at their peril to be Venators.