The Bleeding Dusk Read Free Page B

given to the Venator for whom they were intended. But…is not each vis bulla made for one particular person? Can another Venator wear one not made for herself?”
    Wayren was nodding. “Yes, one and only one vis bulla is forged for the person for whom it is intended. As you see, the one that belonged to your aunt Eustacia is different from the one that Max gave you. But as you are aware, the power of a vis bulla can strengthen any Venator.”
    Victoria didn’t need to look at the small crosses, each of which hung from its own silver hoop, to recall which was which. Aunt Eustacia’s had tiny beveled edges, and the ends of each bar of the cross were pointed. Max’s was slightly thicker and sturdier, without any ornamentation. Both crosses were no larger than her thumbnail.
    Victoria’s own vis bulla had been torn from where she wore it pierced through her navel on the same night Aunt Eustacia died, during a fierce battle with Lilith’s undead son, Nedas. Hers had been slender, with delicate filigree along its edges, so minute she couldn’t comprehend how anyone could have worked silver into such an intricate design.
    â€œWell?” asked Wayren after a moment. “Shall I ask Kritanu to prepare for two of them?”
    Victoria nodded slowly, wondering if wearing two amulets would make her feel any different. Would it make her twice as strong? Or would they cancel each other out? She made the decision; if there was a problem she could easily remove one of them. “Yes. I’ll wear them both.”
    During their conversation, the other members of the Consilium had been walking about the chambers, in and out and through, some pausing to dip their fingers in the fountain or to speak to another. They were all men of varying ages and appearance. Victoria was the only female Venator of the perhaps hundred in the world, and there were only two dozen Venators in Rome, at the Consilium, at any given time.
    â€œThen I shall inform Kritanu, and we will proceed in a few moments. I know you’ve missed being on the hunt this last month while your wound healed, and you were closing up your aunt’s properties in Venice and Florence.” Wayren gave her another soothing smile, then moved away in such a graceful manner that she appeared to glide.
    The reinserting of her vis bulla was brief and less painful than Victoria recalled the first piercing being. Perhaps it was because the pain of its being torn away was more prevalent in her memory than the quick, smooth piercing. Kritanu, the elderly man originally from India who had been Aunt Eustacia’s companion and Victoria’s trainer, was quick and efficient with the long, curved needle. Since Victoria had decided to wear the two amulets, Kritanu inserted them separately, so that they each hung from the top of her navel and brushed against each other as they settled into the small hollow below. The moment the first one slipped into place, Victoria felt a renewal of energy, a familiar surge tingle through her body.
    She felt as if she’d become whole again.
    And, now that she was wearing something from her aunt, perhaps she would not only have her aunt’s strength of spirit with her, but also begin to heal her grief.
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    â€œBeheaded dogs and cats?” Victoria said, looking from Ilias, the keeper of the Consilium and one of the eldest Venators, to Michalas, one of the Venators who lived permanently in Rome. It was nearly two months since Victoria had had the two vis bullae inserted, and although she’d been out several times after sundown searching for vampires, things had been relatively quiet.
    Michalas nodded, his russet curls so tight they moved but a whisper. With his fair skin and very blue eyes, he looked more like a young boy than a feral warrior, despite the fact that he was a decade older than Victoria. “A pile of them—perhaps three dozen. In various stages of decay, so it appears the