The Darkest of Dreams

by Emigh Cannaday

  Annika nodded, and there was another long moment of silence between them while they both shared another sip from the flask of brandy.

  “I can’t imagine how Althea must feel,” she finally said, unable to hide her surprise. “Betrayed? Angry? Maybe she’s relieved? I can’t imagine having two sets of twins like your mother did!”

  “What fate do you imagine would be worse?” Heron asked, and gave a smirk that was very similar to Talvi’s. “Having two sets of twins, one of which is by a man who isn’t your husband, having the knowledge that your husband was the one who gave them to that other woman, or having a single child who’s been charged with the task of liberating the world? I know all about the prophecy that Talvi was born into. I always thought that the pressure to excel at raising such a child would be a tremendous burden.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s in prison and there’s no bun in the oven, so that prophecy isn’t happening.” Annika stood up and smoothed her disheveled hair into place, hoping to make herself look decent enough to make it to her room without garnering any strange looks. “When I get home the first thing I’m going to do is make sure that I never have to worry about that again. Besides…how could a kid possibly save the world if everyone hates their mother?”

  “It would be simple.” Heron rose to his feet as well, then reached into his pocket before taking Annika’s hand and coaxing her to outstretch her arm. Where there had once been deep hatred there was now understanding, and even mild affection, and what was once cold was now shivering with the promise of warmth. He placed a few pieces of dried apricot into her palm and then took a step back. There was a flutter of black wings, and then Cazadora was perched on Annika’s wrist. Now that she was up close and personal, the bird appeared much larger than she expected. She found herself reaching up with her other hand to pet the large raven, who was joyfully gobbling up the fruit. As Annika’s hand stroked the glossy black feathers, Cazadora tilted her head to one side and puffed out her neck feathers to show her satisfaction. Heron grinned and reached deep into his pocket once more.

  “I expect the solution is to make them adore you,” he said, dropping a few more bits of apricot into Annika’s hand. “The best way to win anyone over is to give them something they want.”

  “Oh? Is that all?” Annika said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes.

  “I said it would be simple,” Heron replied with an all-too-familiar smirk. “I didn’t say it would be easy.”

  4

  No Ordinary Girl

  The door to Talvi’s bedchamber opened just wide enough for a tall, slender figure clad in black to exit the room. He pulled the door shut as quietly as he could, walking with natural stealth in the shadows along the hallway to avoid being seen. He’d only taken a dozen steps when he saw that another tall, slender figure dressed in black was waiting for him in the dark.

  “Isn’t it rather late to be visiting your cousin’s wife’s bedchamber without a chaperone?” Konstantin asked while gazing at one of the numerous portraits hanging on the wall. Instead of being startled, Heron held up a sheet of parchment and unfolded it to reveal a brief paragraph of writing, with three signatures below.

  “I came to see her about transferring ownership of a horse. Runa was there to witness it,” he said, eyeing the vampire curiously. He waited until Konstantin acknowledged the document with the samodiva’s signature written beside his and Annika’s before folding it back up. “What brings you to my cousin’s wife’s bedchamber at this late hour, without a chaperone?”

  The vampire smiled.

  “I was looking for you. It appears my instincts were correct. Of course, Miss Annika is rather difficult to resist…particularly if you’re a Marinossian.”

  “Or if you’re a vampire,” Heron said coolly and leaned closer to Konstantin. “I heard what your soldiers did to her. If Talvi ever gets out of prison, I can only imagine the sort of revenge he’ll seek out for their crimes. I’ve seen what he can do with a pair of pliers.”

  Konstantin ignored the menacing gleam in Heron’s eyes and brushed a nonexistent piece of lint from his jacket.

  “The soldiers responsible for harming her have been dealt with.”

  “If they still have all their teeth, then Talvi would be inclined to disagree. So would I.”

  Konstantin narrowed his eyes, then smiled again.

  “Has Miss Annika already earned your loyalty, after knowing her for only a handful of days? Perhaps she has. After all, you did not deny that she was difficult for you to resist.”

  Heron gave a contemptuous snort.

  “My loyalty is to my cousin, not his wife. As far as I’m concerned, she’s a spoiled modern girl with such a flat ass that I can’t even take pleasure in watching her leave.” He let his fingertips run along the side of the folded parchment, savoring the crisp, hard edge of his contract. “It was the promise of acquiring a stallion in his prime that was difficult to resist. Luckily for me, Annika’s just like every other modern girl I’ve met—what she knows about horseflesh couldn’t fill a thimble.”

  The vampire snickered to himself.

  “The timing of your new acquisition could not have been planned any better. I have an errand for you, and I need someone with your particular type of experience.”

  “My type of experience?” Heron replied with a quiet laugh. “I’m a cellar rat. I make wine. I drink wine. If I happen to make more wine than I drink, then I sell it for a handsome price.”

  Undeterred by Heron’s borderline flippant response, Konstantin’s emerald eyes flickered in the candlelight.

  “Yes, I know. However, I am referring to your experience with the rangers. I understand that you serve in collections.”

  Heron shook his head.

  “Not for a few years now. By the way, they’ve changed the department name from collections to outreach and recovery.” He gave a wry smile. “They thought it sounded more sympathetic than ‘bounty hunter.’ They’re more focused towards showing criminals mercy as opposed to bringing them to justice by whatever means necessary. It’s all part of this new, softer image that they’re trying to portray to the public.”

  “I am guessing Heron the Heavy-Handed did not fit into this new, softer image,” Konstantin replied. Heron didn’t even bother trying to hide his grin.

  “They didn’t want rangers. They wanted nannies to round up these bastards and then hold their hands whilst leading them to court on a rose petal path.” He placed a hand on his narrow hip, which accentuated his strong, broad shoulders. “Do I look like a governess?”

  Konstantin’s blond hair barely moved as he shook his head.

  “No, you do not. You look like someone who is capable of kidnapping…and extortion…and torture. Only when necessary, of course.” He grinned in amusement, although Heron wasn’t smiling anymore. “You look like someone who enjoyed this unique profession enough to have done it for almost a hundred years. You look like someone who would have continued to work in this profession as long as your government would let you. Unfortunately, you also look like someone who was accused of multiple counts of operating beyond the confines of the law, yet you were never brought to trial. Ambrose must have a great deal of affection for you, since he arranged for nearly all of those charges to be wiped clean from your records. All you had to do was resign.”

  Nothing in Heron’s body language changed, aside from his blue and green eyes, which had now darkened.

  “How would you know anything about that?”

  “It is my job to know these things,” he said, motioning for Heron to walk with him down the long, dark hallway. “I know that your talents are being wasted in a cellar and a vineyard. I know you are longing to return to the old ways…when justice was swift and everyone knew their place in society. When your superiors appreciated the extent of your talents. I also know that you are longing for the progress that you have seen in the other empires and the modern world. You are conflicted inside your heart…much like the rest of society.”

&
nbsp; “You’ve just described nearly every single person underneath this roof,” Heron said and stood up a little straighter. “Along with a few of those buried outside of it.”

  “Then I do not have to tell you that the Estellian experiment of transitioning from a monarchy to a republic has failed. That is why the public is demanding reform yet again.”

  A look of mild disgust passed briefly across Heron’s face as he glanced over the railing near the stairs and stopped long enough to study the clusters of mourners below.

  “Of course they’re confused,” he admitted. “The public doesn’t know what is best for them.”

  The vampire’s mouth turned into a knowing grin that revealed a glimpse of his white fangs.

  “That is because they are like overly-protected children who have had too many rules placed upon them,” he agreed with a slight nod. “They have been told what to think and what to believe…what to learn and who to love. They have not had the chance to make mistakes, nor the opportunity to learn from them. They need someone to set them free…someone who will let them fall, if only to teach them how to rise to their feet. Unfortunately, the current system is too convoluted for them to achieve this goal. They need a government and a society with a simpler structure. An empire is only as healthy and intelligent as its public.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Heron replied. He turned to face his companion as the two of them stood near the top of the staircase. “I’ve heard rumors about who would be most likely to make that happen. If there’s a changing of the guard in my future, I would cast my vote for Emperor Konstantin in a heartbeat.”

  Knowing that Heron wasn’t the type to bother with flattery, Konstantin allowed his compliment to fully sink in. It was one thing to hear the votes of confidence coming from his associates, or anyone on the payroll of La Familia Vladislava. It was another thing entirely to hear it come from someone who had no financial or political motive for doing so.

  “If that is your opinion, then I suppose I ought to explain the task that prompted me to seek your assistance,” he said. “It has come to my attention that someone of great significance to me is unaccounted for. I was informed months ago that this person is dead, yet there was never any proof. I need you to resolve this as soon as possible.”

  Heron raised a curious eyebrow.

  “Do you want me to bring them back dead or alive? If I bring them back alive, it’ll cost you more. A lot more.”

  Konstantin gave a nonchalant shrug.

  “If she is dead, bring me her body. If she is alive, bring her back alive.”

  A sparkle of amusement flashed in Heron’s eyes.

  “Oh, we’re discussing a lady? That makes it far more interesting. Even if she’s dead.”

  Now it was Konstantin’s turn to look amused.

  “She is no ordinary girl. That’s why I want Heron the Heavy-Handed to manage this, instead of someone who’s afraid to use force if necessary. I’ll pay you triple what the rangers paid you…and I will double that number if you bring her back alive. I will provide you with whatever you require, including additional horses and a guide to help you re-trace her steps.”

  “I’ll take the horses, but I prefer to work alone,” said Heron.

  “And I prefer to let my associates make these types of arrangements,” said Konstantin. “However, there are only three souls who know exactly where this girl disappeared, and Pavlo is the only one of those three that I can trust. If you discover that the girl is alive, we must maintain the belief that she is dead. The price I’m paying you is to ensure your silence.”

  “Curiouser and curiouser,” Heron murmured as his cousin Yuri stepped into view. Her vampire senses drew her eye up to the top of the staircase where the two men were standing, but she made no move to join them. Time had taught her that Konstantin would join her when he was ready. And time had taught Konstantin that he would suffer if he made her wait too long. He gave her a courteous nod of acknowledgment and took a few slow steps toward the stairs.

  “Tell me more about this girl,” Heron said under his breath as he joined him. Konstantin paused for a moment, letting his pale fingers caress the carved wooden handrail.

  “Pavlo spent much more time with her than I did. You’ll have to ask him for more information,” he said, and sent a subtle smile in Yuri’s direction. “She’s probably just like every other female we’ve ever met—they’re always more clever and complicated than you expect them to be.”

  5

  A Time Like This

  The sound of water splashing into a basin woke Justinian slightly earlier than he would’ve liked, but he didn’t mind. In spite of the sorrow surrounding him over the past few days, the past few nights had been merciful and kind to him. Compared to sleeping on the small mattresses and blankets and furs strewn about the floor of the samodiva cave, his guest room at the Marinossian’s had delivered perhaps the best sleep he’d enjoyed in his entire life. The beds were built large enough to accommodate the full-grown elves, who averaged anywhere from six to seven feet in height. Being almost as wide as he was tall, Justinian had secretly relished the unexpected luxury of an elven bed. It was thick and soft, just like the pillows and the linens, which were infused with the fragrance of wildflowers harvested at the peak of their bloom. It was like sleeping on clouds and flower petals, although he didn’t dare admit it and risk sounding like a fool. He rolled over in the white haven of scented sheets and balled up both of his pillows to prop up his head. There was Sariel, standing at the basin stark naked and scrubbing underneath her arms with a sudsy sponge.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said without turning in his direction.

  “I’m glad that you did,” he snickered while admiring the round swell of her lower belly and her fuller curves. “I could get used to seeing this every morning. The light is so much better here than it is back at your home. I think we should extend our stay. The view from here is lovely.”

  Sariel glanced out the second-story window, which had been left open all night to let in the soft summer breeze. Facing the side of the country estate, half of the view was dominated by lush green pastures dotted with horses and rolling foothills that rose up into mountains far behind them. The other half revealed the wide river valley and the winding road that had taken Annika away only hours earlier. Everything that lived under the bright blue sky was bathed in the warmth of the morning sun. She switched to scrubbing underneath her other arm and gave Justinian a doubtful look.

  “It is a lovely view, but I wouldn’t want to impose. Not at a time like this.”

  Justinian sighed. One of the things he loved most about her was how headstrong she could be. And one of the things he disliked the most about her was how headstrong she could be. They butted heads often, and he had learned to choose his battles more carefully with her than with most people he knew. He was perfectly aware of what he was signing up for when he’d asked her to marry him earlier that year, but that didn’t make it any easier to speak his mind. Especially when she’d been putting off the actual wedding for so long.

  “Sariel…” he began, and stopped, just like he always did in this situation.

  “Justinian…” she replied, just like she always did in this situation.

  “The Marinossians need you more than ever at a time like this,” he went on, and brushed his long black hair away from his rugged face. “You’re part of their family, and if you are part of their family, then I consider myself part of it as well. I think we should stay and help them however we can. I can lend a hand with all the work that needs to be done. If the weather holds out long enough perhaps we can get in another crop of hay. It would make up for what was lost in the drought.”

  “That’s very kind of you, but Heron and Hawk have already agreed to stay for exactly that purpose,” she pointed out. Her husband lifted an eyebrow that was more than a little skeptical.

  “I’m not so sure that Heron intends to stay.”

  “Did he tell you he had other p
lans?”

  “No, but he’s been spending an awful lot of time getting Ghassan into shape. I think he has something else on his mind.”

  Sariel rolled her eyes.

  “I think Heron is tired of dealing with ill-behaved animals,” she said. “That horse hasn’t caused a single bit of trouble since he started working with him. It was good of Annika to transfer ownership to someone like Heron.”

  Justinian grumbled in reluctant agreement, hoping she was right.

  “Even if Corbin’s sons stay behind to help out, they’re young men. I can already tell that Hawk is going to be a handful. I don’t think Heron is quite as petulant or surly as his brother, but it does seem to be a recurring trait among the Marinossian lads. Add to that the fact that they’re both whip-smart and that Ambrose seems unusually soft on them, and it’s a recipe for trouble. They’ll get bored and become easily distracted if they aren’t managed properly.”

  “Oh? And you think you’re just the man to keep them in line?” Sariel teased. “They’ve got nearly three-hundred and forty years worth of mischief under their belts. You have scarcely more than thirty.”

  Justinian snickered to himself.

  “I have thirty-four.“

  Sariel shot him a prim smile from her little mouth.

  “Even so, if you convert their age to human years, they’re not much younger than you are. They would be about twenty-eight.”

  “Really? They certainly don’t behave like twenty-eight-year-old men. They’re about as wild as wolves.” He paused just long enough to scratch his scruffy chin. “No wonder neither of them has ever settled down. If I can’t manage two grown lads, how will I ever manage raising one from the day he takes his very first breath? I need to know that I can be helpful, so why not start here?”