When Twilight Burns Read Online Free Page A

opportunity. You’ve kept me at such arm’s length these last two months, since…since you woke up.” His voice faltered in a rather un-Sebastian-like manner. She felt him draw in a breath and then he cautiously pushed the door inward. “And you’re right, of course—I am looking for something,” he said over his shoulder.
    â€œAnd you needed me to help you.” She followed him, shifting out of his way when he reached to close the door behind them.
    â€œWell, it might get a bit messy, and you know how I deplore drawing blood or exploding ash.”
    Her lips quirked in a smile as she looked around the room. There were no torches in here but she was able to discern more than shadows and shapes in the darkness before a tiny light flared to life in Sebastian’s hands.
    â€œUsing the little light sticks Miro created, I see,” she commented. “Do you carry them in your boot heel as Max did?”
    â€œIf I had,” he replied, lighting a sconce near the door, “they’d be wet and sloppy after slogging through that mess. I did have the foresight to keep them in a dry place, my dear Victoria. Much as it might surprise you that I think ahead—”
    â€œOh, there’s no doubt that you think ahead, Sebastian—usually about where to disappear to when things get dangerous.” And that was why, even though she knew he was a Venator, Victoria couldn’t quite trust him. He’d been too unreliable in the past.
    As Victoria scanned the dark chamber, she saw the influence of the monks in the simplicity of what must have been some sort of main hall. The floor was uneven beneath her feet, and she could see some old furnishings—broken chairs, an upended table—near one end, as though they’d been tossed there during a bout of cleaning. Other than that, the room was empty but for a few tattered tapestries hanging from the wall, and a dozen scattered stones. The walls were the same charcoal and black shade as the sewer tunnel, slate discolored by years of dirt and smoke. There were, of course, no windows, and only a small fireplace that must have some sort of chimney.
    There was only a single door, this one also made of stout wood, beyond the one through which they’d come.
    She followed him as he made his way across the abandoned room toward the door. And just then, the ruffle of a chill slipped over the back of her neck. Victoria readied her stake. Perhaps the place wasn’t as abandoned as it appeared.
    Sebastian didn’t have to unlock this door and, when it cracked open, Victoria wasn’t surprised to see a warm glow of light bleeding through. The chill on her neck had intensified slightly, yet she didn’t think the undead—perhaps one or two of them—were in close proximity.
    â€œAre you going to tell me what you’re looking for before the vampires appear?” she asked.
    â€œPerhaps. It may take a few moments. I’m not sure exactly…” Sebastian said this as he prodded the door open further, and Victoria saw a much more inviting setting than the chamber behind them. Though it might not be as comfortable as a parlor in St. James, with its upright chairs, tables covered with a variety of objects, and several torches, this smaller space was obviously occupied. Or had been recently, if the bundles of clothing and blankets littering the room were any indication.
    Victoria followed Sebastian in, closing the door behind her to act as a warning for new arrivals—undead or mortal—as much as to keep the warmth and light contained within. Now that she had stepped inside, the first thing that struck her about the chamber was the smell permeating the air.
    Blood.
    Sharp, thick. Like iron.
    Something hitched at the back of her throat, and her stomach lurched as she remembered being inundated with it—the taste, the odor, the heaviness on her tongue, the thick slide down her throat. Victoria