Healer's Magic
Page 10
"Three ancestors are here to help."
His words sparked a memory, but the image hovered out of reach.
"There is a darkness coming, Tatya."
She refilled his cup. Changing Sky consumed lots of coffee in the morning.
"Yes, I know."
She pushed away the memory of how Vanse’s hair had fallen forward as he'd bent toward her neck. Any thoughts of him, however fleeting, were a switch that could activate the link to him.
The growl of the truck announced the shaman's ride. Tatya escorted him out to the veranda. "I'm going home to pick up a few items; I'll return this evening. Don't mind the young pup," Changing Sky told her, "he's still growing into his skin."
She smiled. If anyone could tame a wild creature, it was Changing Sky.
Tatya was washing the coffee cups when she flashed on the picture of an old blind woman, and details of last night's disturbing dream surfaced—the second in recent nights. Parts were blurry, but she would have sworn Angelus and Vanse had been in the dream. There hadn't been time to discuss her dreams with Changing Sky this morning, but when he returned, she’d ask him for an interpretation.
Shaking off her misgivings, she made plans for the rest of the day. If she set off now, she could visit Aunt Lil and get the shopping done. With luck, her aunt might even leave the hospital. The possibility of having Aunt Lil home cheered her, even though it seemed to be taking forever to happen.
Tatya was finishing up in the kitchen when another car pulled into her driveway. She didn't have to check to know who it was. Her connection to Vanse spiked. She knew if she concentrated on him, even though she had no desire to do so, she'd see the connection, a chain of golden light, linking them together
The doorbell rang. How polite of him, she thought, when they were both aware he didn't need her permission to enter. Opening the door, she noticed, as if by magic, the reappearance of the vamp guards. They hadn't left during the shaman's visit, but they'd sure been careful to stay out of sight. She filed that fact away; it might come in handy.
Vanse waited with the patience of someone who has all the time in the world and nowhere else to be. More memories stirred and shifted, but they stayed elusive, and out of her grasp.
"Come in." Tatya refused to pretend she was thrilled, but she attempted to sound polite. She wasn't sure she succeeded.
"Thank you, Tatiana."
"Tatya. My name is Tatya. If you keep turning up at my house, I'd appreciate it if you'd bother to call me by my name."
"My, we are touchy this morning," he said, passing so close she breathed in the sandalwood scent coming off him.
An involuntary shiver ran down her spine.
"Having bad dreams?"
"Coffee?" She stalked ahead, refusing to rise to the bait. "Sorry, we're out of blood, and mine's not available."
His eyes twinkled.
Oh! How irritating! A vampire who twinkled at you! Standing here in her kitchen he was destroying every single one of her beliefs about his species.
"I've already had breakfast, but yes, a coffee would be lovely. Black, no milk or sugar."
Already had breakfast? No, she wasn't going there. She poured him a cup and another for herself. Today should be interesting if it continued this way; first, breakfast with a shaman who liked his coffee sweet, then with a vampire who didn't. "Anyway, I've got stuff to do, so what do you want, Vanse?"
"Hearing you say my name is worth the trip out here," he paused, "Tatya."
"Don't use that glamour voice on me. It doesn't work."
But it did. Even worse, she liked the velvet sound. How a vampire's voice reassured anybody of anything was beyond her comprehension. But his voice calmed her. He'd protected Aunt Lil and as a thank you, she resented him?
"Your aunt is doing well."
"And stay out of my head." Damn it, she was trying to play nice here. She threw back the rest of her coffee, ignoring the way it burned her tongue and throat.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Well, as you can observe, I'm fine." Images of broken bodies, hacked limbs, fierce fires, and screams as people burned to death flashed across her inner sight.
"Tatya!" Vanse's touch on her forehead, a light brush of his fingertips, jerked her back to the present and the images vanished.
She stared up at him. The melancholy was back in his eyes. She was puzzled. She picked up guilt mixed with sadness. Guilt for what? But before a discreet way of pursuing this line of questioning occurred to her, the back door opened and Sean rushed in, holding his phone out to Vanse.
A vampire with a personal secretary! Tatya turned the tap on and washed cups to hide the huge grin that spread across her face. What next? A fashion line?
"I have to–"
"Good-bye." She wasn't a mind reader, but she wasn't stupid either.
"Sheriff Corwin says hi." And with that, he was gone.
Tatya looked at Sean. "What? I'm trying."
Sean didn't answer, but judging by his skeptical expression, it was obvious he thought she should put more into the effort.
The convoy headed off half an hour later. Mrs. Olsen, one of Tatya's regulars, had phoned earlier, suffering from a migraine, and asked if she could drop off an order of echinacea, sage, and lavender tea. The woman lived about fifteen minutes’ drive in the opposite direction from town.
Tatya drove alone, leading the way, with Sean and her personal vamp security unit following. She figured she'd be in town within the hour, shopping done, then over to the hospital by one o'clock. Plenty of time to sit with Aunt Lil, speak to the doctor and find out if her aunt could come home today.
Mrs. Olsen lived in a mobile home about half a mile off the highway, and just inside the town’s northern boundary. After the Olsen turnoff, the highway followed the lie of the land and dipped gently down from Orleton’s plateau toward the grasslands and flat agricultural plains in the far distance.
Their cavalcade turned onto a narrow track that wound among the aspen and spruce trees.
Tatya had told Mrs. Olsen if she ever wanted to move closer to town, she’d help her find somewhere. The elderly lady had smiled in appreciation, saying the quiet surroundings gave her peace of mind.
Tatya parked next to Mrs. Olsen's old Dodge, sparing an admiring glance at the spread of wild black currant and swamp gooseberry bushes the old lady had planted years ago. There was just enough room for her truck. Good. Because her escort would have no choice but to reverse all the way to the road in about two minutes when she'd delivered the tea. The thought gave her a smidgen of perverse pleasure.
Tatya jumped out, held up her hand at Sean telling him to wait, ran up and knocked on the door. No answer. Tatya knocked again, this time trying the door handle. It creaked as it swung open.
"Everything all right?" Sean called, getting out of his car.
She shrugged, caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye, and heard shouts.
"Tatya, run!"
Tatya's eyes widened in horror as half a dozen vampires erupted from behind Mrs. Olsen’s home, swarming toward Sean and the vamps sent to protect her. Angelus. Somehow he had engineered this. Anger flushed through her and her fingers prickled, sparking with energy. Raising her hands and focusing her attention on the attacking vampires, she channeled the surge of white-hot power along her arms.
At that instant, something struck her hard on the back of her head, and she stumbled forward, falling into blackness.
When Tatya came to, a splitting pain zigzagged from the crown of her head to her right shoulder. Her forehead throbbed, but it wasn't till she tried to assess the damage that she realized her hands and feet were tied to the arms and legs of a chair. She was blindfolded, and the foul taste in her mouth was a gag. After figuring out that much, she passed out again.
When she regained consciousness, the pain had eased a little, but thinking with a thumping kettle drum in her head was exhausting. Her connection to Angelus sparked. She stamped on it, t
hankful she still had that ability. This time, though, he'd ordered his minions to do his dirty work. How much of a threat was Vanse to him? And where was Sean? Please, let him have gotten away, she prayed. Her breath came in gasps, and she had difficulty breathing through the gag at the thought of her best friend with his neck broken and a stake in his heart. She couldn't bear it if anything happened to Sean because of her. She tried to think. If he'd escaped, Vanse would know, and be on his way. She would not think about how reliant she was becoming on the master vampire, or about how many times he'd saved her already.
Where was she, anyway? Tatya extended her awareness, scrying the immediate vicinity. Vamps were difficult, if not impossible, for an empath to read without a heartbeat and a wall of nothing where their thoughts should be. But a telltale trail of essence always survived if you looked hard enough in the right places. She tried to relax and concentrate on her breathing, but every movement was torture. Healing herself wasn't an option; another of her gifts only to be used for others.
Okay, so scrying was out for the moment.
She heard footsteps, and as the door opened Tatya rested her head on her chest, pretending to be unconscious.
"I know you're awake."
She didn't recognize the speaker's voice. That was one small mercy because at least it wasn't Angelus.
"Angelus will be pleased with me."
The lines of fire Angelus had traced along her face with his fingers flamed at the memory, but she didn't move. She would not give this creature the pleasure of acknowledging his presence.
"He approaches as we speak."
She wanted to blast this creepy vamp and reached for her power, but the cracking in her head make it impossible. Her powers were there, but her injury created a barrier.
Tatya waited till his footsteps died away. She had no idea of how long she had, but if Angelus was on his way, then she probably didn’t have too much time. The severe pounding in her temples forced her to wait. She breathed in slowly, attempting to block out the pain before extending her perceptions.
Mustn't panic, she repeated to herself, as a warning prickle shivered into goose bumps. She needed to access the same energy as when she'd blasted Vanse across the room. The instant she pictured Vanse, her connection to him sparked into life.
He was frantic. "Where are you?"
She projected an image of herself tied up, gagged and blindfolded, embellishing the size and ferocity of the vampire guarding her. A little artistic license might work to her advantage at this point. "Angelus is coming." This time, she didn't have to exaggerate her dread. "Can you find me?"
"I'm on my way, but we might not have that long. Listen carefully. I'll awaken my dominance over you."
"Don't you dare!" A ruby flush surged along the link.
"Tatiana!" The anger in his voice jolted her. "Only so we, together, can remove the pain that's blocking your power."
"And then I'll be free of you?"
"This is not the time for that conversation."
And in the next instant, she was bathed in love for him. Her master. The chain that linked them was a torrent of emotion. Every fiber of her being thrilled with the ecstasy of compliance. An intense pulse of brightness rushed along the link, flooded her awareness, and removed the dam keeping her away from her powers. She yearned for him to stay, so she could continue to feel this love, something she'd been craving her whole life. How had she ever thought vamps had no feelings?
"I'm on my way." He withdrew.
And she experienced a sharp, cutting loss.
Snapping out of the thrall, and not wasting a second, she drew on her power. The vamp guarding her was so confident she was under control, he'd fallen asleep. Good. Sending subtle strands of energy down her arms, she burned the ropes binding her to the chair. They sizzled and fell to the ground. She ripped the stinking gag away, spitting out the disgusting taste as she tore off the blindfold. She looked around—she was in Mrs. Olsen's kitchen. She must have been unconscious for a good few hours as it was dark outside. She rubbed her wrists where the skin was tender. Vanse’s energy, added to her own, needed refining. The ropes at her ankles needed a tad more energy than her fingers, and she managed to sear them off without burning herself. She sent a quick thanks to Vanse. He was coming to her aid, yet again, and she wasn't ungrateful.
Tatya crept soundlessly toward the kitchen door. Within minutes she was outside, extending her senses for any sign of vampires. The only one was the creature guarding her. She tiptoed along the side of the mobile home heading for the track, peeked in the first window, and wished she hadn't. Bile rose into her mouth at the sight of Mrs. Olsen lying on the floor with her neck broken, blood trailing from gaping wounds in her throat. The vamp had fed from her.
Thankful for her new improved night vision, she darted into the trees. The track led straight to the main road, but she'd be easy to spot if the pursuing vamp woke up, although the clouds scudding across the waning moon offered some cover.
Tatya ran as fast as she could, dodging between pale tree trunks, avoiding branches, while running parallel to the track, and keeping an eye out for sudden dips and bumps in the earth. She wouldn’t get far if she twisted an ankle, or even worse, broke a leg. She glanced behind as a gap in the clouds appeared. The mobile home was no longer in sight. So far, so good. She halted for a minute, listening to the night. Her senses were definitely heightened, with the most likely cause being the addition of Vanse's blood coursing through her veins. Luckily, she didn’t feel cold despite the night autumn chill.
Nearby, a rattlesnake heading for its den, paused at her approach. She concentrated on the snake. Despite the weapons at their disposal, a reptile's mind was simple to control and the chill night air left this one sluggish.
The snake had one goal. Food. Nothing else inhabited its internal landscape. No impatience or anger, just an overwhelming need to eat.
She withdrew her consciousness as she transmitted a dribble of heat to the snake. Filling it full of images of the vampire, she embedded the idea of food into the creature's brain and dispatched it on its way. As she moved off, the snake slithered toward the mobile home. Changing Sky would be proud of her. She ran faster. The road wasn't far now. If she reached it, she might flag a passing car.
Suddenly, she collapsed, folding in on herself and gasping with agony as the link to Angelus flared. He’d realized she was slipping out of his grasp and unleashed wave after wave of blistering pain to weaken and control her. She slashed at the connection, desperate to cut the bond to him.
The link died, but a door banged loudly in the distance as the vamp burst out of the mobile home in pursuit. Angelus had alerted her jailer.
Vamps possessed a speed she couldn't hope to outrun. She fired a final urging at the snake as it neared its target.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," the vamp crooned in a twisted singsong voice. "I'm coming to get you."
Tatya heard the warning clatter of the snake's rattle, followed by a high-pitched scream as the reptile bit deep and its fangs injected deadly venom. The vamp gave a strangled cry as he crashed to the ground. He wouldn't die, but she'd slowed him down and given herself more time.
Tatya kept going, swerved around a tree trunk looming out of the dark, tripped, and fell. Clambering to her feet, she ignored her skinned elbows and knees, and charged toward the road. She spotted headlights from an approaching vehicle flickering through the trees. If she managed a final sprint, she could make it to the highway before the car passed. This might be her only chance. As she closed the distance to the road, she could see the car was nearly level with her. Tatya pumped her legs harder, ignored her burning lungs, and flew across the verge. She dashed into the middle of the road and watched in disbelief as the car kept coming. Desperate for the vehicle to stop, she stood her ground, her arms windmilling like mad.
At the last second, the driver noticed the figure in his path, and spun the wheel, brakes squealing, as he attempted to avoid her.
&nb
sp; And Tatya realized she'd left it too late; she jumped to one side but wasn't quick enough and excruciating pain exploded along her left side as she flew into the air.
Chapter Twelve: Recovery
Tatya lay in a bed in St. Raphael’s hospital. How she knew was unclear. No particular reason came to mind she could put her finger on, she simply knew. And she wasn't all right. A jackhammer pounded inside her brain, and every bone in her body hurt. She cracked her eyes open, widening them in disbelief as she glanced down at her body; casts encased her hips, and further down, the same rigid casing covered both legs.
Sickened with loathing, she stared at the sight of so many wires and tubes emerging from various parts of her body, hooking her up to the surrounding machines. Lying in a hospital bed, with the antiseptic smell, the quiet background of humming equipment and starched sheets was becoming far too familiar for comfort.
She remembered the car hitting her, and the pain. Maybe being alive was a miracle, but it looked as if she'd broken more than a few bones. How long would she be laid up and out of action?
The door handle clicked. She heard an intake of breath and a friendly voice. "The lengths some people go to avoid doing an honest day's work." Sheriff Corwin's careworn face grinned at her. The normal blue of his aura flashed with purple spikes of anxiety.
"Corwin! I'm offended. If there's a party going on, I want an invitation."
"How are you?"
"I need more drugs. I hurt. All over."
"The guy who brought you in thought he'd killed you. You're lucky he stopped to check." He put up his hand. "It's all right. Vanse brought me up to date about the kidnapping. You should have seen the state he got himself into."
Bellamy poked his head in the door, coughed to get Corwin's attention, and nodded at Tatya. She nodded back and winced, wishing Aunt Lil hadn't taught her to be so polite.
"Gotta go, kid. People to see, things to do. If your boyfriend doesn't update you, I'll bring you up to speed next visit."
She refused to dignify the boyfriend crack with an answer. Besides, the drugs fogging her brain made thinking of a smart comeback too difficult.