Christian stared at her drawn face as leaned her head against the window. They both had every reason to be afraid. Lucian was more than close ... too close. Christian had barely made it in time to save her from the witch, with Lena lurking nearby in the woods. He didn't want to think about what would have happened if he'd been a few minutes late.
In Victoria's vulnerable state, Lena would have been merciless. The next time, neither of them would be so lucky. Now that Victoria had killed the witch, the key to Lucian's grand plan, no doubt he would be furious. And fury drove people to do irrational, unpredictable things. Christian knew more than anyone how ruthless Lucian could be.
One thing was certain. Lucian would stop at nothing now.
HOW COULD ONE little ticket ruin everything?
Gabriel and Angie's unexpected Christmas present had astounded Victoria; a ticket to a New Year's Eve masquerade ball at the Rainbow Room in Rockefeller Center. It was an exclusive event by invitation only, and Victoria had argued that it was far too extravagant, but Gabriel had told her that it was nothing, a combination get well after her snowboarding accident and Christmas present. He had also told her in no uncertain terms that the tickets, courtesy of their parents, were not returnable.
Victoria had mentioned the ticket to Christian two days ago, and she'd been completely blindsided by his response. The minute she had said that it was going to be a masquerade ball at the Rainbow Room in Rockefeller Center, it was like he had become possessed, telling her in no uncertain terms that he forbade it.
The minute his patronizing words had left his lips, the room had become fraught with tension. She'd stared at him as if he'd been speaking a foreign language.
"Is this about Gabriel? Honestly Christian, get over it. Gabriel likes me but he knows that we're just friends, and that's all we are ever going to be. I do have friends other than you, you know, and just because he's asked me to a party in New York doesn't mean you need to go all Tony Soprano on me."
"It's not about Gabriel," he insisted fiercely. "I don't want you to go there."
"Then what is it about, Christian? These are my friends. Who do you think you are anyway?" Victoria said hotly.
"Victoria, I do not want you to go to New York. And that's it."
"Then stop playing games and tell me why," she shot back.
"I do not need to explain my reasons to you. It should be enough that I've asked you not to go for your own safety."
She launched a glare in his direction. "You don't need to explain your reasons to me?" she repeated in a shrill staccato, advancing on him enough that he'd stepped backward. "Let me explain something to you, Christian. You are not in the nineteenth century any more. In this world, guys don't get to order girls about. I don't know where you think you are or who you think you are, but you cannot tell me what I can or can't do. I am going to New York. And that's it."
He'd stared at her with a pained look as if she'd slapped him, and then said quietly, his voice weary, "Fine, do whatever you like, then."
Victoria had left his house enraged, announcing that she was going to do exactly that. She hadn't seen him since.
Now standing in the guest bedroom of Gabriel's parents' opulent Upper East Side Fifth Avenue townhouse, Victoria was still shaken by the memory. Truth was, she knew that she was angrier at Christian for actually letting her leave yesterday without making contact with her, than she was that he had forbidden her to go to the party. After the wonderful few days they had spent together, she missed him.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and Angie poked her head in.
"Hey, Tori, the limo's going to be here in about an hour, okay?"
"Thanks Angie," Victoria said. "Thanks again for letting me crash here. I was more than happy to stay in a hotel."
"It's no big deal and you know Gabe, once he makes his mind up, it's a done deal. My parents aren't even here, and they don't care who stays here anyway," she said. She smiled awkwardly. Even though things were much better between them, Angie still wasn't big on small talk.
Victoria glanced at the large box on the bed and sighed as she removed the gorgeous dress, staring at it in awe. The ball was black tie and she had walked Fifth Avenue for hours trying to find something suitable. Maybe it was the rotten timing of waiting until the last minute, but the only dress options seemed to be either huge swaths of taffeta or pearl-encrusted contraptions. Frustrated, she'd decided to take a break when she received a call from Angie saying she'd had a package delivered to the apartment.