by Sela Carsen
They ran out of words and glared at each other, breathing hard, and he could feel her body, only an inch away from his, practically vibrating, matching him. She was far too precious to risk, even if he knew he was being unreasonable. But right now, all he cared about was quenching the thirst that had been riding him for far too long.
They reached for each other at the same time.
Carina’s flavor was more tart than sweet, spicy with anger, her lips eager and giving under his as he tunneled his fingers into her rainbow hair. She had been so close to him, and yet so far out of reach since he moved here. He’d turned down all offers to be near her because he’d been afraid he couldn’t trust himself. His temper had been uneven, he constantly snarled in pain, and she’d seemed too sweet for him. Too nice to stand up to him when he got angry.
He’d been wrong about her from the beginning. She was sweet, and she was nice. But she was strong, too, and more than able to go toe to toe with him in a fight. All this time, he’d thought she was the kind of soft, biddable woman he’d have wanted before the accident. He’d been wrong. This fire-spitting artist was the sexiest thing he’d ever encountered.
She moaned and squirmed against him, her hands going to his shoulders, but she didn’t shove him away. Instead, she slid her hands over to rest against his chest, pulling at his shirt, trying to get her hands under his collar where his skin burned with heat.
He pulled her closer, his hands closing over her slender back, then down to clasp her soft, denim-covered curves. He squeezed, and she tried to climb him like a tree.
Rodion spun, putting her back to the wall to help support her as he held her up with the strength of one arm. They wouldn’t last long like this, and much as he regretted it, they had to get going on the solution to their problem. She keened, an eager whine, and he nearly decided that Nazar could curse himself into oblivion, just to find out what else made her make that sound. But he couldn’t. The curse. Her arm.
Long unused parts of him sent a painful, throbbing ache through his body when he sucked her bottom lip in between his teeth and bit down gently. Not enough to hurt, but she stopped moving.
He opened his eyes to find her watching him. With obvious deliberation, he let her go, kissing her softly one last time before he opened his arms.
“Maybe I should let you come with me,” he said. “I wouldn’t have thought of having Bubba carry you home.”
A familiar voice intruded from the open door. “And maybe she won’t need Bubba to carry you if there’s nothing left of you to bury.”
Chapter Four
Carina wanted to bury her face in his shoulder and not come up until she was too old to die of embarrassment.
Daria, one of her very best friends in the whole world – and Rodion’s sister – was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.
“I’m not sure whether to be ecstatic or just puzzled,” said Daria, stepping into the apartment.
“Me, neither,” muttered Carina.
Rodion caught her chin between his thumb and finger. “I’m leaning toward ecstatic.” His whisper was quiet, and the warm gust of his breath in her ear made her shiver.
She nodded and tried to squash down the goofy smile she knew was coming over her face.
“So what happened?” Daria, whose timing had always been impeccable before, was tromping all over her thoughts right now.
She blinked.
“What do you mean, what happened?” Rodion returned the question.
“It looks like a war zone in the hall. There are dents in the drywall and piles of dust everywhere. I thought this building was kept up better.”
“It is. We just had a visit from a golem.”
A new voice intruded. “A what?”
Trick, a former Army Ranger who had discovered he was a bard – a descendant of the great Welsh bard, Taliesin, who chronicled Arthur and Merlin – when he came to Nocturne Falls to visit a friend several months before, walked in behind Daria and closed the door behind him.
Perfect. Three people in her home and she hadn’t been expecting company. She wasn’t the tidiest of housekeepers, but she usually tried to pick up a little if there was any warning.
Her floor loom was in the midst of a project, and she’d been trying to decide on the right yarn, so there were skeins and balls of multi-hued wool scattered everywhere. And she’d fallen asleep on the couch, which meant the blankets and pillows that belonged there were flung hither and yon, as her Nana used to say. The general clutter of an artist with a magpie’s eye for shiny things covered nearly every surface.
“A golem,” repeated Rodion, and told Trick what he’d told her. As he spoke, he picked up little odds and ends, running his fingers over nubbly fabrics, examining chunks of glistening geodes, and sniffing bottles of fragrant oils.
“A dirt monster? I never knew there was so much I didn’t know about magic.”
“I don’t think anyone knows it all,” said Daria. “Alice Bishop, maybe. Or maybe Ms Bobbie Young back home in Volshev. They’re both powerful enough to give me the shivers.”
Rodion nodded. “Agreed. Both forces to be reckoned with. And their abilities – and advice – are neither cheap nor to be taken lightly.”
He had buried the fingers of his stiff hand in a ball of wool and silk blend yarn that was medium blue and soft as goose down. She didn’t think he noticed that he was rubbing the strands with his thumb.
“So y’all were attacked by this golem thing. Carina, are you all right?”
She shrugged, then wished she hadn’t as her arm protested the movement.
“I may have been cursed. No big deal.”
Daria rushed to her side. “No big deal? Have you lost your mind?”
She pushed up her sleeve to show her friend the swirling black stain. “What did you call this thing?”
Rodion’s face had returned to its usual stony expression. “The proklyat’ye smerti.”
Daria gasped, and turned to Carina. “This is a big deal. A very big deal.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “What are we going to do?”
Carina turned to Rodion with a smirk. “Yeah, Rodion. What are we going to do?”
He snorted. “We are going to find the cure. And find Nazar. Then I’ll cut him into teeny tiny little pieces, and burn them down to ashes. And then I’ll throw the ashes into the wind so he can never come together again.”
Carina’s eyes widened. “Not that you’ve thought about this at all.”
“It’s the best I could come up with on short notice.”
“I like it,” said Trick. “It’s thorough.”
“Y’all are terrible.” Daria was examining Carina’s mark. “Doesn’t Katya have all those old spell books from her Tetya Irina?”
“Her aunt collected them.” Carina remembered going to the quiet, dim old mansion to visit their friend after Aunt Irina’s funeral. It seemed that every wall in the house held nothing but heavy bookcases filled with ancient, dusty tomes.
“Then she may be able to help us find a cure.”
“Nazar said he’d lift the curse if I went to him with the shards of Gebil. But if you can find a cure, then I’ll hunt him on my own.”
“No!” The word spilled from her, along with an explosion of pain in her arm. His words hit her like the poison from the golem, choking her as she tried to work out what was wrong.
They all turned to her, shocked by her sudden outburst. Blindly, she groped for the green silk bag on the end of the coffee table. With a swipe of her good arm, she cleared a space.
“You can’t leave. I know it. You can’t leave me behind.” She knew she sounded crazy, but her arm was on fire, the pain taking over rational thought.
Acting on instinct, she untied the knot holding the silk together, and the fabric unfolded into a square. She aligned each corner with the filigreed direction markers she had painted on the walls and, panting with pain, murmured a quick blessing, calling the elements to lend her the power she needed.
Sh
e breathed over the runestones of polished bone, giving them life, before she closed her eyes and tossed them onto the silk.
Carina opened her eyes to read the message of the runes. This curse thing wasn’t kidding around.
“If you leave me, I die.”
Rodion strode to where she knelt, and held out a hand to help her stand. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Then I guess we didn’t have to have that argument. I’m not going anywhere without you.”
“Damn straight, you’re not,” said Trick, his own arm around Daria. “We’ll help you with whatever you need. Now, you’d better tell us the whole thing from the beginning.”
They told the story together, and when they’d finished, Daria was fuming mad. At her brother.
“You idiot! What are you doing with the shards of that evil old relic?”
“What is this Gebil thing anyway? I’m not sure I understand what y’all are talking about.” It felt like Rodion and Daria were speaking in code, their shared knowledge of Russian magic leaving her on the outside.
Though maybe that’s where she should be. Carina hadn’t expected that kiss, hadn’t expected the heat that exploded between them. And as amazing as it was, she didn’t need to go tumbling head over heels for the cranky wizard while they were trying to find a way to get rid of her fun, new curse.
Rodion’s blue eyes were full of shadows when he focused on Carina. “Gebil is the name of Koschei the Deathless’s favorite sword. Its name means Death. It’s been at his side for so long, it’s developed a personality of its own. An unpleasant one. The sword isn’t sentient, exactly, but it actively works to aid its master. I don’t know how Burian got his hands on it, and I definitely didn’t know that was the sword he was using when it cut me. And I had no idea there was any of it left inside me. It should have shown up on x-rays, unless magic swords just don’t. At least it explains why this thing won’t heal properly.”
He shrugged his shoulder, and she felt him wince. How long had he been carrying this burden of pain?
“Where is the sword now?” asked Daria.
“I don’t know. I never thought to ask about it, after. I assumed it was in the evidence lock-up, but if no one knew it was a magic sword, they wouldn’t have taken precautions. It could have made its way back to its master.”
They all stood silent for a moment until Trick spoke up. “Creepy sword.” He shrugged. “So what’s the first step?”
“We need to find Nazar. He left us clues.” Rodion stood straighter, his voice growing deeper. That was what she wanted to hear. He was pulling himself together, and his confidence gave her strength. She patted him on the chest and stepped out of his embrace.
She needed to be strong for herself, so she defaulted to her usual wisecrack setting. “Why don’t bad guys ever leave an address? I’m at 717 Oak Street. Come by for coffee and death.”
They all chuckled and some of the tension eased. “If only it were that easy, milaya. At least he left us clues on how to find him. The first one said, Under the fast running blood of the earth lies the key. Any ideas?”
“Water,” said Daria immediately. “The key is under water. Under a river.”
They all gaped at her.
“It’s obvious. Water is the fast running blood of the earth. Duh.” She crossed her eyes at her brother, and Carina smothered a laugh.
“So says the rusalka,” returned Rodion.
“And who would know better than I?”
“She has a point, Rodion. I mean, water? Mermaid?” Carina gestured at her friend.
“Don’t call her/me a mermaid,” said everyone else in the room.
Carina burst out laughing. “I love getting you guys to do that!” Rusalki hated being referred to as mermaids – they had some longstanding issues with Hans Christian Anderson – so naturally, she liked to sneak one in every once in a while for a giggle at her friend.
And right now, she needed all the giggles she could get.
Chapter Five
Rodion and Carina walked slowly along the banks of Wolf Creek.
“How are we supposed to get to it under the water?” she asked.
He hated admitting when he didn’t know the answer, so he said nothing. When they’d arrived at the creek, they’d started their search on the portion behind Daria and Trick’s house. His sister always lived close to water.
Carina had opened her bag of runes when they arrived at the creek and cast them again, but nothing had changed. The signs said they had to stay together, and despite the fact that he hated bringing her into danger again, he wasn’t going to gainsay the soothsayer.
Then she’d pulled out a pendulum made of simple, clear quartz wrapped in copper, and they followed where it pointed.
They’d walked for nearly an hour, going around brush when they could, hacking through it with his shashka – and he nearly wept for the blade – when they couldn’t.
Walking quietly along the peaceful riverbank gave him too much time to think about her. He couldn’t get the spicy sweet taste of her out of his mind. She was supposed to be off limits, but that was before everything changed. Before the curse. Before he’d seen her courage.
Before they’d kissed. The way she’d responded to him, the way she felt in his arms… every minute, every second they were alone, all he wanted to do with kiss her and hold her again.
That death curse was putting a serious damper on his game. Passionate tongue-tangling aside, he needed to keep his hands to himself until this was over. Then maybe he’d ask her for coffee. Or sex. Or something in between.
Daria and Trick had gone to Katya’s house, looking for a way to lift the curse as a back-up plan in case something happened and they couldn’t find Nazar. Before they left, Trick had clapped him on the shoulder.
“You going to be all right, man?”
Rodion had nodded. “I will. But Carina… This isn’t her fault. She shouldn’t have gotten involved in this.”
“Bad stuff happens, though. You just gotta work through it. And she’s tough. She laughs, but there’s a strong woman under there.”
He thought about that as they walked. And he thought about the other thing Trick had given him. Before they left, the tall, lanky bard had wrapped his hands around Rodion’s arm, closed his eyes and concentrated. Then he began to hum.
Power had radiated off the man and poured into Rodion’s scarred wound in deep sonic vibrations. The foreign bits of metal inside him resonated to the magic of Trick’s bardic voice. The ache he’d lived with for months had soothed to nothing more than a mild annoyance, easily forgotten. He’d forgotten what it was like not to be in pain.
A groan of relief had been torn from his chest as Trick let go, and Rodion, a Rus fae to his bones, had pulled the man in for a heartfelt hug.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime. I didn’t know I could do that, or I’d have done it sooner. I don’t know how long it’ll last, though.”
“Even if it’s only for a minute, thank you.”
Now Rodion walked by rushing water as if he was in a dream, pain free, with a beautiful, talented woman by his side.
Well, not quite by his side. He turned to find that she had stopped a few feet behind him. She leaned against a tree, her hand gripping her shoulder with a grimace that was all too familiar.
“It hurts,” she whispered, her pale green eyes liquid with pain.
He wished Trick had been able to help her, too. Instead, he pulled her into his arms, the only comfort he could offer, and held her as she gave two broken sobs. After a moment, she sniffled.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’ll be all right. But I think we’re close.”
The pendulum swayed in her hand, spinning in a circle, but refused to point in a specific direction.
“Does that mean we’re here?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think so. Let’s look around.”
They did, and what Rodion saw made him step back.
Wolf Creek fed into the wa
ter feature that gave the town its name, Nocturne Falls. If anyone went to the falls on a clear night with a full moon, they might be lucky enough to see a moonbow in the mist of the water.
But he’d never heard of peaceful little Wolf Creek having a maelstrom.
There wasn’t enough water or tide there to create the deadly trap naturally. This one swirled in one of the wide places of the creek, its turbulent tide churning in a circle around a black hole that stank of dark magic. This hadn’t been here the last time he’d walked along the creek, and because it was so far off the gentle nature hike that led to the falls, no one had seen it yet.
It made a twisted kind of sense that Nazar had buried the key at the bottom of this lethal whirlpool. If he dived in to retrieve it, he would die. And if he died, Carina wouldn’t last long.
He looked down into her eyes and they spoke at the same time.
“We’re screwed.”
Her lips curled up at the corners, irrepressible, even in the face of death.
“Jinx. You owe me a Coke.”
“If we get out of this, I’ll pay up,” he answered.
“You’d better. The promise of chemical sugar water might be the only thing that makes me feel better about this.”
He squeezed her fingers and brought her hand up to his lips. “The only thing?”
“Maybe not the only thing.” She smiled up at him, but through the flirting, he saw the shadows in her eyes.
“So, how do we get the key? Any ideas?” He’d gotten out of the habit of asking for help, but he was glad he did when she squeezed back.
They looked carefully over the bank at the roiling water, and saw a glint at the bottom of the dark center.
“I wouldn’t even ask Daria to get that, and there’s nothing in the water that can hurt her.” Rusalki were tough, but black magic was bad for everyone.
Carina stepped back and reached elbow deep into her bag. There was something strange about that purse.
“I’m hungry. You hungry? Snacks help me think.” She pulled out a couple of apples and offered him one, then bit into the other with a crunch. She considered the maelstrom thoughtfully as they chewed.