When Twilight Burns Read Online Free Page B

gagged; yet even as she did so, her nostrils flared as though to drag in the smell, and saliva pooled in her mouth.
    Her vision blurred, and a rosy haze filtered over the room as she forced herself to draw in a deep, blood-scented breath. Closing her eyes, she exhaled long and slow, pushing the smell away, then pulled in another breath, deep and easy. By this time, the sharp smell had softened and the nausea ebbed.
    She opened her eyes. The red tinge was gone, and she stood steadier. The brush of chill at the back of her neck hadn’t changed, indicating the vampires weren’t yet in near vicinity. Looking over at Sebastian, she was gratified that he was too busy to have noticed her lapse. Or whatever it had been.
    What had it been?
    Tightening fingers that felt weak, she gripped her stake as if it were a talisman and walked toward Sebastian as he knelt at the base of a large stone chair in the center of one wall. With its dusty, torn cushions and white marble arms, it put her in mind of a masonry throne. Its white and red marble gleamed coolly in the light.
    When she got close enough, she planted herself next to Sebastian, shiny muck still clinging to her boots. She looked down at the back of his thick, curling hair, watching the flex of shoulders beneath his coat as he worked. It wasn’t until she stepped aside that she saw he was unbolting the chair’s two front feet from the floor.
    They weren’t really bolts, she realized when he handed them up to her, but more like thick stone plugs that had been fitted through the clawlike curls of the marble feet and down into the stone-and-dirt floor. Cleverly designed caps on the bolts, when sunk into place, camouflaged them as part of the chair’s design.
    â€œThe chair must hide something Beauregard told you about,” Victoria said, rolling the finger-width cylinders in her palm. As they bumped together with a dull clunk, she realized the heavy bloodscent was threatening her again. She shook her head sharply, and concentrated on breathing steadily as the feeling passed.
    â€œAs usual,” he muttered as he pulled gracefully to his feet, “you surprise me with your insight. If I thought we had the time, I’d kiss you senseless right here. Or perhaps”—he grinned lasciviously, glancing at the behemoth chair— “we could find other uses for this.”
    Victoria stepped back as though to put herself out of his reach, then felt ridiculous for doing so. He noticed, and although his smile remained fixed, the jest faded from his eyes. “Well then, since that’s not your preference, let us see what lies behind this bloody thing.”
    Despite the great weight of the stone chair, it was easy for Sebastian, who of course wore the vis bulla, to move on his own. With a dull, gritty scrape, he shoved it aside so he could approach the wall against which it had stood. Victoria heard his small sound of satisfaction just as the chill on the back of her neck exploded into a blast of cold.
    â€œThey’re coming,” she said, spinning to face the door from which they’d entered. “Two or three, I think. I’ll take care—”
    But her words strangled in her throat as Sebastian leaped into place beside her, stake in hand.
    An odd thing. So odd, after their debates time and again about the finality of sending a vampire to his death—to eternal damnation—and how Sebastian refused to be the one to pass such judgment on the creatures. So odd to see him holding a stake, ready to use it, instead of running the other way.
    It was almost like being with Max.
    The chill intensified and was now accompanied by deep, guttural voices just beyond the door. Sebastian whispered, “Get them before they see the chair has been moved.”
    Victoria was only too happy to oblige. She was waiting when the first undead stepped through the door, and the element of surprise along with the fact that he was turning to speak to