by Tessa Bailey
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Tilda said, narrowing her eyes. “You’re very lucky I’ve been forced to switch my allegiances or I’d mount your heads on my wall.”
“You’d try,” Elias and Roksana said at the same time.
Tilda sighed. “Do take a seat. My neck is forming a crick.”
Keeping a wary eye on the fae, Elias guided Roksana to the leather couch and sat her down, positioning his body between her and Tilda. “We brought you the marriage decree,” Elias said. “We’ll exchange it for the game piece and be on our way.”
With the cigarette perched in the corner of her mouth, Tilda unlocked a slim desk drawer and removed a stuffed red envelope. “This is what you seek.” She drummed her fingers on the envelope. “Who will you bring this to? Out of curiosity.”
“My mother,” Roksana said, craning her neck to see past Elias. “Inessa. The Queen of Shadows.”
Tilda showed no reaction. “Very well. Then I shall consider this valuable information my last service to the slayers. We’ve had a good run, but beckoned by greener pastures I am.”
“I don’t understand,” Roksana said.
“It’s Yoda-speak,” Mary explained brightly.
Roksana nodded, though the young woman obviously couldn’t see her. “Yes, but I don’t understand what you mean by this being your last service to the slayers.”
Tilda took her time answering. “The fae have long been an ally of the slayers. Though we were reluctant at first, it became necessary to form a united front against the vampires. You see, we are much fewer in number. Our influence in the underworld is not what it used to be. We do have value, however.” Her skin pulsed with a dull glow. “Our abilities made us a threat to the vampires. Thus, we went into league with the slayers.”
“For protection,” Roksana guessed, her brows drawing together. “What has changed?”
“Why, there is a new vampire king. Haven’t you heard?” Tilda stubbed out her cigarette and lit a fresh one. “Not a fan. His peaceful practices have stirred the hornets’ nest and now there is an uprising in the States. There are now two vampire contingents and I no longer have faith in the slayers’ ability to make our alliance worthwhile.”
The back of Elias’s neck tightened, trepidation lining his stomach. “You’re forming an alliance with the vampires that rise against the king?”
“That’s right. You’ll let him know, won’t you? Since you work for him.” Tilda paused, smiling at the tension she’d created by casually dropping her knowledge of their identities. She didn’t seem inclined to care beyond the enjoyment of proving her intelligence. “Through Mary’s marriage,” she continued, smugly, “we will unite the fae and the dark uprising.”
Tucker’s head swiveled around. “What now?”
Tilda’s delight increased with Tucker’s distress. “We fae have subdued our abilities to appear less threatening long enough. We want to play, too.” She gave an exaggerated pout. “Those leading the dark uprising welcome all the power they can get. We intend to give it to them and take back the influence we deserve. Maybe a victory will be enough to draw our oh-so-perfect relatives back from the Faerie realm. I suppose only time will tell.”
“Hold up, hold up, hold up.” Tucker massaged the center of his forehead. “You’re going to send Mary to something called the ‘dark uprising’?”
“Yes.” Tilda smiled. “Their leader awaits her arrival, along with the marriage decree. Do have her there by this time next week, darling.” She tossed the red envelope to Elias and he caught it in mid-air. “Pass on my regards to the Queen of Shadows.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Roksana felt like she’d been dropped into an episode of Black Mirror—and that was saying something considering she was a vampire slayer by trade, not to mention a recent acquaintance of several ill-tempered fae. As she stood at Elias’s side and watched Tucker help Mary the Mad into the passenger side of his Impala, as if the girl was made of glass, the soundless night surrounding them seemed two dimensional. Unreal. Her consciousness had been shot full of holes. Now it let in light from unexpected sources.
“Did you know?” she asked Elias, tonelessly. “About the dark uprising?”
“Jonas told me about it only last night,” he said, clearly expecting the question. “But I knew nothing about the fae’s allegiance. Hell, I knew nothing about them at all until now.”
There was no question in her mind Elias told her the truth. That moment in Enders when she’d been thrown to the slayers to carve up like a turkey, the remaining barriers between herself and Elias had fallen. In the midst of her fear, she’d reached for him, needed him. His eyes had told her their own tale in that split second.
He’d have died defending her.
She’d never experienced more absolute trust in anyone. Not in her entire life.
A battle was coming. Bigger than any she’d ever fought. More important than a single slayer stalking vampires at night, taking out one or two on occasion. If this dark uprising attempted to overthrow Jonas…and the slayers took advantage of the conflict to assert their own agenda…the loss of life could be tremendous in every corner.
“If Jonas has to fight the uprising…will you fight with him?”
He looked over at her. “Of course.”
Even as a fissure formed in her heart at the very possibility of Elias being hurt or killed in a war, his unspoken question hung in the air between them.
Which side will you take, Roksana?
She planned to plead with Inessa to spare Elias, citing the fact that he’d actually saved her life that night in Vegas. Wouldn’t that mean something to her mother? That her daughter’s life had been spared because of this man’s actions? If it didn’t mean something to Inessa—and Roksana’s heart ached over the possibility—she’d offer to complete countless missions, even tracking down her own elusive father and dragging him to Moscow if Inessa wished it. But even if Roksana’s request was granted and Elias was spared, she would still be left in her limbo, wouldn’t she? Caught between her legacy and the man she’d fallen for.
Where do I belong? What the hell do I do?
Self-disgust roiled in her belly, flooding her mouth with the taste of acid.
“Be calm. We have enough to worry about right now,” Elias said, voice steady. “We leave for Moscow before the sun comes up. One thing at a time, okay?”
“We can’t ignore the fact that a war is brewing.”
He mashed a fist against his chest. “We have to fight our war first.”
Roksana looked down at the red envelope in her hand. She didn’t even know what was inside and somehow it felt like a time bomb, ready to go off. When allegiances and power hung in the balance, the smallest thing could make a difference. Thankfully, the contents of the envelope would be in her mother’s hands. Safe.
Why didn’t she feel reassured as she should be by that?
“Will you open the envelope before handing it over to Inessa?”
“No.” Resolutely, she shoved the envelope into her back pocket. “The game piece is for her eyes alone. Those were my orders.”
Elias cut her a sideways glance, but said nothing.
Her confidence waned. “You think I should look?”
“I don’t make decisions for you, Roksana. I protect you.”
The sound of boots on the pavement broke their staring contest. Tucker approached them, but he walked backwards, as if he couldn’t stand to take his eyes off the car where Mary sat. “I guess I’m off, folks.” He rubbed a hand over his hair. “Just going to bring this blind girl with the crazy-ass scream and drop her off at her fiancé’s lair. Typical weekend plans, right?”
“You’re not really going to drop her off,” Elias said. “Are you?”
“Nope. Fuck that noise. Can’t and won’t do it.” Tucker turned briefly and put his hand out for a shake. “It’s been great knowing you. Try not to kill each other.”
Roksana ignored Tucker’s outstretched hand and gav
e him a hard hug. “Where will you go?”
“I’m not sure yet.” He laughed without humor. “Is anywhere safe these days?”
“Not when you’ve kidnapped the key to an unholy alliance,” Elias said, shaking his friend’s hand. “Lay low and be safe. We’ll wait for your call.”
Tucker’s gaze took on a far-off quality. “Remember when I told you I saw home, that night at the poker game?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded at the car. “She was there.”
Roksana and Elias watched Tucker climb into the driver’s side of his car. A melodic greeting from Mary floated out into the night, followed by a gruff rejoinder from Tucker.
And then they were gone.
Standing side by side in the darkness, Elias and Roksana watched them go, the lack of sound creating a static buzz around them.
“I miss dancing in the street,” Roksana whispered, hazy visions of the Vegas strip glimmering in her head. “I miss believing the fate of the universe was someone else’s responsibility.”
Silence passed them like a river’s current. “I could tell you we don’t owe the universe anything. I could tell you we don’t have to go to Moscow. That we can run off and find a way to have that lightness together.” He put an arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side, pressing his lips to her temple and she went like a child, seeking…something. Reassurance. Validation. She didn’t know. “But you’re not a woman who buys bullshit and I’m not a man who sells it. You need to be stronger than ever now, Roksana. You will be. Accept the fact that you are the maker of hard decisions. Someone else gets to be blissfully ignorant and you have to pick up their slack. That’s your life. That’s my life, too. Take a deep breath and go toward the next fight. I’ll be there with you.”
They were words only someone who knew her heart and recognized her soul could say.
They were hard and truthful and exactly what she needed.
They could only come from him. Because he was Elias.
“I love you,” she whispered, her fingers twisting in the front of his shirt, those three words ripping the lid off what felt like a lifetime of suppressed emotions, drowning her, leaving her literally and figuratively gasping for air. “I have loved you and I will love you.”
He opened his mouth to say something, to return the sentiment, but he couldn’t seem to get it out, choking on his first and second attempt. So instead he took her hand and placed it, palm down, over his thrashing heart—and it told her everything she needed to know.
Elias and Roksana took a cab to the airport where Elias had the Vamplane waiting in a private section of the airfield. Roksana was wired. Exhausted but unable to sleep once the plane took off. She paced the length of the private aircraft, weaving possible scenarios for the upcoming confrontation with Inessa, while Elias alternated between watching her with quiet concern and typing on the screen of his phone.
Finally, on lap number eighty thousand, Elias snagged her around the waist and settled her in his lap. “Look at me,” he ordered gruffly, tilting her chin up. “I’m going to compel you to sleep. You have to take advantage of this long flight and rest.”
She tried to squirm free of his hold. “Not a chance. I need to plan.”
“Roksana.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, bringing their foreheads together. “You need to sleep. Allow yourself to be human.”
The word human on his lips summoned a whole other host of concerns. Ones she’d had more and more frequently over the last twenty-four hours with all the talk of war and matehood and love. “Have you ever thought of silencing me, Elias?”
He averted his gaze, but not before she saw the blazing possession there. “I’m not proud of myself, but I have.”
She traced his lip with the pad of her thumb. “I love the truth from your mouth, no matter what it is.” For some reason, her statement caused his scar to whiten. “You don’t have to feel guilty for wanting me to be like you.”
Elias curled a hand lightly around her throat. “You’re strong as hell, baby, but in my world you’re fragile.” A muscle slid up and down in his cheek. “You love the truth from me? The idea of turning you terrifies the hell out of me. You know it’s not always successful.”
Pulse skittering, she nodded. When a vampire drained a human of blood and infused them with venom from their fangs, it produced varying results. Timing and circumstances were huge. If the human was bloodless a moment too long before the venom took effect, it was lights out. Ginny almost hadn’t survived it. Wouldn’t have, if she hadn’t taken Jonas’s blood in return.
His fingertip traced down the side curve of her neck, lingering over where he’d bitten her in the dressing room. “Have you thought about it?”
The magnitude of what they were talking about—eternal life—made her breathing grow short. “Yes.”
Elias’s eyelids drooped and she could tell he was willing his fangs to stay hidden. “I think it’s best if I make you sleep,” he said hoarsely. “Now.”
Roksana knew he was right. With all the changes taking place and so many unknowns hovering over their heads, it was too tempting to take control of something. Relinquishing her humanity couldn’t be a rash decision.
Sleep. Okay. That meant Elias compelling her, because she definitely wouldn’t manage it on her own. Having her will taken away wasn’t something she did easily, but she did need her batteries recharged. Plus, she liked giving Elias this proof that she trusted him. “Promise not to draw a Sharpie mustache on my face.”
The corner of his lips jumped. “I’ll try and control myself.”
“Do you need my blood first?” she whispered, leaning in to graze their lips together.
With a stuttered groan, Elias sampled the inside of her mouth with his tongue. “I will wait.” He captured her jaw in his hand, holding her steady as his gaze lit gradually with a warm glow that she couldn’t look away from. Her thoughts grew fuzzy, her neck loosening, but the energy snapping in his eyes held her in thrall. “Sleep now,” Elias said, his voice resonation like a gong in an enclosed space, the potency of it reaching into her brain and flipping an off switch.
Consciousness rose and set once during the journey, the sound of the voices filtering in through the dusky glow surrounding her. Talk of refueling the plane and time zones and estimates on their arrival time. She had the vague sense they’d landed in Paris to service the plane, before Elias kissed her forehead and she dropped back off the face of the earth again.
When she woke fully, it didn’t happen in degrees. She snapped into alertness, springing up on the soft leather seat on which she’d been sleeping lengthways. In the absence of the engine’s rumble, she guessed they’d landed and her theory proved correct when Elias stepped from behind the dividing wall between them and the cockpit.
“Hey, we’ve landed in Moscow.”
She eyed the blacked out windows. “It’s okay to go outside?”
He nodded once. “With the time difference, it’s already nighttime here,” he said gruffly, reaching over her head and retrieving a heavy blanket, wrapping it around her body. “Damn, I missed your eyes.”
Without giving her a chance to respond, Elias scooped her up without preamble and strode for the door. Cold air numbed her face almost immediately. She was home. Yet there was nothing welcoming about it. Sleep had given her focus and it was already channeling itself into trepidation of what was to come, stiffening her spine and parching her throat.
Desperate for some sense of control, she wormed free of Elias’s hold so she could walk on her own down the stairs leading to the night-blanketed tarmac.
Men in heavy coats and ushanka hats moved in a swarm around the plane, breath exiting their mouths in rolling white plumes. Not a single one of them lifted their heads when Roksana and Elias disembarked. Elias took her hand and guided her to a waiting black town car. While someone put their meager luggage in the trunk, they settled into the backseat, their hands automatically seeking and clasping on the seat.
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Roksana opened her mouth to tell the driver where to take them—she knew a cheap but safe hotel in the Lefortovo District where they could regroup and plan, but Elias beat her to the punch.
“St. Andronicus Monastery, please.”
She frowned as the car lurched forward, speeding through the empty airfield. “A church in the middle of the night? Why?” Wordlessly, Elias met her gaze and the intensity reflected back there raised goosebumps on every inch of her body. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m always serious.” His grip tightened on hers. “I applied for the marriage license before I left Moscow.”
Roksana’s heart climbed into her mouth, fluttering with a mixture of alarm and joy. “But…you are really holding me to this? Now? When everything is bonkers?”
“Everything is bonkers. That’s why we’re getting married.”
Her exhale emerged in a rush. “I don’t understand.”
Elias broke eye contact, staring out through the front windshield, and she got the odd feeling he was evading somehow. “Like you said, there is a war brewing. If something were to ever happen to me, I’d want you to have what’s mine.” He softened the blow of his words with a wry smile. “You’ll only need to put the credit card in your name.”
“Stop talking like this,” she breathed, ripping her hand away and securing the blanket more tightly around her body. Otherwise the ice forming in her blood was going to freeze her to death. “I don’t like weddings.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
The quickness of her answer brought his head around. “Thank you,” he said gruffly, before facing forward again with a firm set to his jaw. “St. Andronicus Monastery.”
As they drove, snow began falling from the sky, the flakes light at first, but growing heavier by the time they arrived outside the church. The stone turret seemed to reach up to the moon, the carved exterior lit in a silver glow. Gas street lamps were lit and flickering outside, but there was no other light, save the quarter moon. Elias helped her from the back of the car, tucking her into his side, but when they would have climbed the church steps, he led her down a small path around back instead. They entered a small park, trees on either side blocking the wind and alleviating the harshest of the cold.