Which is good, because I am tired of being trapped. Literally and figuratively. So I say it again, just to show I can. “I love you.”
“Aye,” he shrugs, “I already knew that.”
I slap his arm. “No, you didn’t.”
He grins, black eyes glinting as he cups my cheek. “Nah, I didn’t, but I expected you might. You see how this works, love?”
“Brains and brawn, how did I ever resist?” I murmur against his hand.
“Technically, you didn’t. You begged me to fuck you, remember?”
“I didn’t beg.”
He leans close enough that his lips brush my ear. “Shall I remind you how you sound when I’m inside you?”
I suck in a breath. “Now is not the time, Tyr. That spellwork is going to wear off.” And I only negotiated for a ten-minute meeting. “What’s that handkerchief made of, anyway?”
“Linen. Nothing special. But it’s soaked in Freya’s tears.”
My eyes widen. “How—”
“As you said, now is not the time. I didn’t think I’d get to talk to you before I had to leave, but—you have to stall this wedding, love. Any and every way possible.”
I nod. “For how long?”
“A few days at most.” He hesitates, a dark shadow flitting over his face so quickly I wonder if I imagined it. “Are you certain Vasilisa won’t hurt you?”
I nod my head instantly. “Yes. Viktor is a lot of things, but an abuser is not one of them.”
He searches my eyes for a long while, then with a curse, he lets me go. “Fair enough, let’s hope you are right.”
“So do I get to hear the plan?”
He shakes his head slowly, looking down at the handkerchief that’s starting to smoke. “Not here. Even with the magic . . . not here. Do you trust me?”
“Completely.”
Those dark eyes flash and he yanks me close again, wrapping me in strong, hard arms. “I will get you out of this,” he whispers in my hair.
Then he’s heading for the door, his spine stiff. He knocks once and Konstantin opens it. Tyr doesn’t look back so he doesn’t see me sink to the bed, or the tears that streak my face, but the Master of Shadows does. With a satisfied nod, he shuts the door. Immediately, I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand.
I stand up and carefully brush the ash that is all that is left of Freya’s handkerchief under the bed hangings, glaring at the feather that remains vibrant and glowing, hovering just above the stones.
Soon, Viktor.
27
I know what I have to do, but executing it is going to be tricky.
At least if I want my balls to remain intact.
My brain is working overtime, trying to shift through every contingency. I wish I’d had more time with Anastasia. I wonder if I should have told her about Viktor’s role in Jett’s kidnapping. Then I shake my head. No, if she knew what he’d done, she’d be so furious the prince would know I had betrayed him.
I’m just outside of Prague. Jett and Stephen are late.
I haven’t been in contact with either of them since the day Konstantin showed up at the house. I would have liked to tell them the truth beforehand, but just like with Anastasia, it was too risky. They may have given something away and—
Something cold and sharp touches the base of my spine. I stiffen. “Hello, Jett.”
“Give me a reason not to run you through here and now,” she whispers.
“I can save your sister.”
With a curse, she grabs the back of my shirt and spins me around. Now her crystal blade is glittering at my throat and behind Jett, the king of the bruins flashes me a bristly smile without an ounce of humor in it.
“What are you talking about, you fucker?” she demands.
I take great care not to so much as twitch a finger, well aware Jett could gut me in less than a heartbeat. “The Ren,” I say softly.
Her eyes widen. The bite of the crystal blade eases a fraction and I can breathe again.
“We can use that on the prince, Jett. Take away his powers and Anastasia walks free. Forever.”
She frowns, studying me. “You planned this?”
I sigh. “Yes. I did. The prince’s man approached me not too long before you got back from Germany.”
“That motherfucker,” she breathes. “So he did know about Lev.”
“Yes, Vasilisa knew.” I glance at the king of the bruins warily, wondering if I just started a war. Stephen’s growl is so vicious the hairs on my arms stand up. “Once he realized Anastasia wouldn’t be coming to the Old World to help you, he decided to ditch the secretive route. But His Majesty wasn’t convinced Konstantin alone would be foolproof. I was insurance.”
“And you sure delivered,” she sneers.
I look straight into those eyes that are so like my woman’s, only darker. “Jett, I love her.”
Stephen looks shocked, but Jett only cocks her head. Her lips twitch.
“Where’s a truth stone when you need one?” Stephen mutters, but Jett shakes her head and sheathes her sword.
“He’s not lying, furface,” she says gently.
“How do you know?” the king scoffs.
“Because I recognize the look on his face.” She blinks and looks over her shoulder at him. “It’s the same one you get when you’re talking about me.”
Stephen frowns and looks from his witch back to me. “Hmm.”
“Hmm, indeed.” Jett smiles again, then her face goes hard. “You two stay here and I’ll go get the Ren, then we can hash this out.”
Stephen and I barely have time to shuffle our feet before she’s back. “Thank Christ,” I mutter, “now let’s—”
“The bottle wasn’t where I left it.” Jett turns to face me, her face bloodless. “The Ren is gone, Tyr.”
With those words, my whole plan goes to shit. Not only do I have no idea how to save Anastasia without the potion, I also have less than a week to figure out how to steal from the goddess that granted me immortal life and escape with my head.
What in the gods’ names are we going to do now?
And that gives me an idea. A shite one. But what choice do I have?
28
I’ve been told nothing except to dress for an audience with the prince. It’s not one I want, but I know I have no choice. Like Tyr said, I need to stall.
I’m not escorted to the throne room. Instead, Viktor shows up at my door at the appointed time, offering me his arm and a smile.
This doesn’t seem like an audience. It seems even less like one when he escorts me to the gardens. We’re flanked by palace guards and I’m quite sure Konstantin is around somewhere, but they are good at giving the illusion of privacy.
The sense of déjà vu is overwhelming as we walk through the gardens toward the small lake. It’s a different lake, of course, and far smaller than the one from our summer together, but still . . .
I look up, almost expecting to see a boat ringed in floating candles, waiting to sail us away.
“This reminds me of the night we snuck away, at the summer palace.” Viktor says with a smile, but I frown, yanking my hand from his arm.
“My memory of that night is not so fond.”
“Come on, Ana, we were good together. You know we were.”
Having experienced Tyr, I know that, at best, we were okay together, but I let that go. “You didn’t seem so impressed when you tossed me aside three days later.”
“That wasn’t my choice. I explained all that.”
He did. When Tyr delivered me, Viktor was the one who pulled the sack from my face. Seeing his face after all those years, it should have been a shock, but really, it was anti-climactic. As was his convoluted tale of his uncle forcing him to toss me aside, all because I was a witch. I didn’t much care what his explanation was. I still don’t. Viktor is my past, and I wish he had stayed there.
The prince looks down at me expectantly.
“So you’ve said.”
“Don’t
you believe me?”
“I’m not sure. What about Lev attacking my sister, Viktor? Are you actually pretending you didn’t know about that either?”
“Lev?” He looks taken aback, his eyes going wide. “Ana, my cousin is dead.”
“He attacked my sister the same weekend that you dumped me. And he killed scores of witches over the years, not to mention he went after Jett again, just a few weeks ago.” I turn and face him, my hands shaking. Stephen’s accusations seem a lot easier to swallow now that I know the lengths Viktor was willingly to go to get me back here. “You’re going to stand here and tell me you knew nothing about that? He was using your feathers to evade detection in the gnome tunnels!”
Viktor’s voice is soft and coaxing. “As far as I know, Lev died ages ago, torn to pieces in the woods. I lost contact with his family and haven’t seen them in years.” He shakes his head sadly. “I knew nothing about any attacks on witches, Ana.” His face hardens. “But my uncle might.” He looks up at the blanket of stars above us, and to my shock his voice breaks. “He’s capable of anything. You’ve no idea.”
He sits down on the bench. After a second’s hesitation, I join him, settling my skirts around me as Viktor takes another deep breath. “My uncle caught me that night, you know. When I was coming back from you and the boat.” He gives me a sidelong look, but my face remains impassive. “I was so happy . . . and he was furious. He’d convinced himself that despite the engagement, you were a passing fancy. He’d been sure my interest wouldn’t last the summer, but when he saw how it was that night . . .
“He threatened me, Ana. Swore he’d see me dead before he’d see me married to a witch.”
I just sit there, my hands still in my lap, looking out over the lake. It’s too dark, too still and placid. Completely unlike the one I’m used to.
“I can still see your face, the day I told you to leave. It’s haunted me ever since.” He shudders once. “How you looked so lost.”
It wasn’t the loss of him I was mourning, though, it was the loss of the dream of having my family back together.
Viktor takes my silence for accusation. He reaches for my face, cupping my cheek, his thumb light on my skin. “Please forgive me.”
I don’t know what to say. My head is spinning. “You were cruel.”
“I was,” he agrees, swallowing hard, his hand falling. “I had to be. My uncle was there, listening to every word just out of sight.”
“You could’ve challenged him.”
“And been beaten, perhaps even killed, my throne stripped away.”
“Isn’t that something a man in love would have risked?”
“I’m not entirely stupid, Ana.” For the first time, his voice gains an edge. “You wanted me for power and protection. If I hadn’t been able to offer you that, would you have wanted me at all?”
“You’ll never know, will you? Because you didn’t try. Who knows, you may have beaten him.”
He curses. “There is not much in this world that can beat me. But a raging fire can consume a smaller one. I wasn’t strong enough to defy his power, not then.”
“But with him sick—”
“Dying,” Viktor corrects, a cold gleam in his eye.
“—you want me back.”
“I never wanted to let you go in the first place.” He leaves the bench to kneel in front of me, grabbing both my hands. “Don’t you see? That’s why I had to take such extreme measures to get you here. Why I had to use someone like that assassin.” His lip curls, and something flickers in his eyes, dark and cold, then it’s gone. His thumbs rub over the backs of my hands gently, his tone turning imploring and soft. “But you’re here now.”
“Against my will,” I say, trying to pull my hands away from his. He ignores this, his grip tightening.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he swears. “Believe me, darling, the whole of our world will know how much I want you. All the power at my fingertips will be yours. Whatever you need, I promise you.”
“My sister beat our father,” I say slowly, my hands turning cold despite the warmth of his. “My family has nothing to fear now. I no longer need your protection, Viktor.”
He drops my hands, getting to his feet. “Are you sure about that?”
I stand up as well, anger burning in my chest. “Is that a threat?”
He sighs and his shoulders slump. “I don’t want it to be.” Then he turns his head and the expression in his eyes makes me take a step back. “But you’d do well not to push me, Ana. I’ve waited too long to be thwarted now.”
I let him lead me back to my room, let him brush my forehead with his cool lips before closing the door, feeling numb. The feather glows in its place on the floor, mocking me.
“Hurry, Tyr,” I whisper.
29
But he doesn’t hurry. Time drags and there is nothing I can do but wait. And endure.
At least once a day, Viktor comes to my room and asks the same thing.
“Marry me, Ana. Become my queen.”
Every day, I say no. It’s exhausting mentally and nerve-wracking physically. I don’t know what is taking Tyr so long, but I’ve got to hold on.
Every night, I take the moonstones from the pouch I keep under my pillow and run my fingers over them, one, two, three, four . . .
When the prince enters my bedroom just after dawn seven days from the last time I saw Tyr, it’s immediately obvious something has changed. The back of my neck tingles and my spine snaps straight.
Konstantin enters behind him. Shutting and locking the door, the shadow elemental stands in front of it, his back stiff. My gaze flicks between the two men.
Bells peel through the window behind us, making me jump.
Viktor chuckles. “It’s all right, Ana.” His eyes are alight with an almost maniacal elation. “It’s our wedding day.”
I get to my feet, wrapping my robe about me tightly to hide the way I’m shaking. “I haven’t accepted you. And I never will.”
“And I no longer care,” he says gently. “My uncle died last night. I am king, at least as soon as the coronation is held this afternoon. We will be married before then, Ana. You dare not refuse the king.”
“I can. And I will.”
“Think of your family.” He folds his hands, his grey eyes cool and sure. This quiet implacability is terrifying. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
“Threats won’t work, Viktor. Maybe you can force me to marry you, but I’ll fight you every day, every way I can. You can’t keep your wife a prisoner forever; people will talk. You have to give me some freedom and when you do, you’ll make a mistake. I’ll find a way to break free and tell everyone the truth. Holding a witch as powerful as I am indefinitely isn’t possible.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” On the surface, he sounds sad, but under it is a grim satisfaction that leaves me cold. “I didn’t want to do this, Ana, but you’ve forced my hand.” He nods at Konstantin, who looks pale as he steps forward. The Master of Shadows avoids my eyes, his breathing fast and shallow, almost as if he’s going to be sick. What is going on here? For the first time I notice both men are wearing gloves.
My stomach starts to churn. “Viktor, what—”
He pulls a bottle from his pocket. It looks likes wood, smooth and silvery green. A tangled rune I can’t quite make out shimmers on the front. I have no idea what it means, but somehow the sight of it fills my insides with ice. I barely notice Konstantin moving behind me.
“What is that?” My voice sounds high and terrified to my own ears. “Viktor?”
He thumbs off the stopper without a word and before I can blink, Konstantin is holding me fast. Viktor sighs, watching me struggle. He trails the back of one hand over my cheek, his voice soft. “I wish it didn’t have to come to this.”
“Come to what?” I can’t help it, I’m screaming now.
Viktor’s leather-encased fingers slip into my hair, wrenching my head back. “Please forgive me, my love.” He press
es the bottle to my lips. I fight, but it does no good. My innate magic sputters and dies in Viktor’s presence. When I instinctively open my mouth to cast, the rim of the bottle is shoved roughly over my tongue. The liquid is sweet and cool, almost cold. It tastes like green tea with too much honey. I try to spit it up, but Viktor’s hand is already over my mouth.
The taste sours. I start to gag.
Oh gods, it burns. Worse than whiskey, worse than anything I’ve ever felt. A scalding agony too massive for tears or screams. I want to claw at my throat but the two men have my arms pinned. Viktor’s grey eyes are fixed on mine in both horror and sick triumph.
I’m covered in sweat when he finally orders Konstantin to let go. The shadow elemental takes his leave at once. I take a step toward the bed, but I feel heavy, like there’s too much weight in my bones. It hurts to walk, to move, to breathe. My knees give out. Viktor catches me, laying me carefully on the bed. The bells ring out again, the light sound ripping at my ears.
He watches me silently for a minute before bending down. His lips brush my damp forehead tenderly, then trail to my lips. His kisses repulse me, but I have no energy to flinch, let alone push him away. The effort just to breathe is immense. When he finally draws back, his eyes are dilated, his expression fierce.
“I will make you love me again, Ana. You’ll see. I just need time. You have to give me that time.” Viktor pauses at the doorway, his voice hushed. “I won’t lose you again.”
I don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. I know what he’s taken from me now.
Everything.
My magic is gone.
30
The grounds of the Inferno Palace are eerily quiet.
I’ve been gone longer than I expected.
Seven fucking days. I’m lucky I got back at all.
Swans drift over the lake and bees buzz at the flowers, but there isn’t a human in sight. No guard in red and gold challenges me at the massive doors either.
Déjà Vu & Gin Page 15