A Summoner's Tale - The Vampire's Confessor (Black Swan 3)

by Danann, Victoria

  ***

  CHAPTER_15

  BLACK SWAN TRAINING MANUAL, STANDARD PROCEDURES:

  Section 2: Chapter 1, #9

  Personnel employed by The Order, or associates of The Order, may not abuse working relationships by requesting a reading from the Psychic Division for personal reasons. Violation of this guideline is grounds for dismissal.

  Heaven stood at her living room window and watched the last rays of the sunset, thinking it was beautiful and resenting that. It shouldn't be. She glanced at her watch. It was dinnertime, but she wasn't hungry. She was not a nervous eater. She was a happiness and contentment eater.

  In fact, she hadn't had anything but coffee since the morning bagel she had eaten hurriedly. She'd been so relieved to reach the office and see that Baka was running late, too. So she ate quickly thinking that he would never know that she had been late, which would give her an opportunity to look superior and give him grief.

  Heavenly Days. That's what her father used to call her when he was exasperated with her. He would say, "Heavenly Days. Was badly done."

  It was hard to believe that bagel had been part of the same twenty-four hour day. It felt like weeks had passed since she had torn into the office expecting a reproving look from Baka and finding no one there.

  Standing there watching the sun set on a day with Istvan Baka out of pocket and no one else seeming to care about it, she'd made up her mind that, after the dinner hour when things began to get quiet at the Headquarters building, she would pay a private, off-the-record visit to Aelsong Hawking. If she was fired over what she planned to do... well, there were plenty of jobs out there for paranormal investigatory clerks with a specialty in demonology. Right.

  At six forty-five Ram rode up to the cottage. It had snowed on him most of the way. Since he didn't have gloves, his fingers were numb. He hadn't brought a hat either, but there was a hoodie on the backseat of the car, so he had put it on under his jacket and pulled the hood over his head. It had helped, but by the time he reached the cottage, it was starting to feel wet against his head where the snow melted from his body heat.

  The ride was cold and miserable and all he could think about was how nice it was going to be to reach the cottage and have Elora fuss over him. She would kiss his frozen cheeks and tell him how heroic he was for bringing roast chicken and potatoes through the snow without gloves. She would sit him on the hearth in front of the fire, pull the sable throw over his lap, and blow on his fingers until they were toasty warm. Then she would put the dinner in the kitchen warmer and feed it to him with kale and cheese. She might even have baked apples with sugar and cinnamon. His favorite.

  Those were the thoughts running through his head when the cottage came into view. He knew the instant he saw it that something was wrong. No lamp light in the windows said, "Welcome home." No smoke rose from the chimney. A feeling of dread and foreboding made him go as cold inside as the freezing temperature outside. He swung down from the saddle and went straight through the door.

  Fumbling for the oil lamp on the butcher block, he found a match and lit it. No note. No sign. The main fireplace was completely cold. The kitchen warmer was completely cold. There had been no fire going all day.

  Still, though he was alarmed, he didn't feel real full-blown worry until he went to the armoire to get a hat and gloves and saw the sat phone. He ran to the little stable in back to see if the mare was stalled.

  She was there, looking up hopefully thinking that Ram was coming with a quart of oats and some fresh hay. He ran back for the gelding and pulled him into the vacant stall, quickly divested him of saddle and bridle, and threw some hay in with him. He turned back to the mare.

  "I know you were expectin' some tasty provisions instead of a cold, hard ride on a dark night. But look at it this way, you're no' goin' alone."

  The mare eyed him suspiciously when he started toward her with the saddle. She whinnied softly in protest and threatened to go temperamental on him.

  "No' in the mood. I strongly recommend cooperation."

  Accurately reading the tone of his voice, she seemed to think better of acting out and stood quietly while he adjusted the cinch. He had retrieved a battery operated lantern from one of his hidey-hole spaces for New Forest contraband. He mounted the mare, pulled the wool scarf around his face in front of his nose, turned on the lantern and rode into the forest not having any idea where to start.

  If he was thinking clearly, he would have used the sat phone to get help for himself. If he was being objective and thinking clearly, he would have laughed about the odds against finding Elora and Blackie in six hundred square miles of New Forest night. But he wasn't thinking clearly or being objective. He was reacting to a scary situation like a person too scared to think.

  At eight o'clock Heaven made her way to Aelsong's door. Since the day they had collaborated with Litha on Katrina Caelian's disappearance, Aelsong had not spoken to Heaven other than a passing hello in a common area. That's why she was surprised to answer a knock on her apartment door and find Heaven standing on the other side.

  As providence would have it, Song was alone because Gaia had gone out to a pub with Glen for the evening and, based on Glen's reputation, she would probably be gone for the night as well. He had, apparently, become something of a phenom among the young ladies. No one could deny that he was cute with an extra special something... A few months ago Song would have been interested herself.

  Song invited her guest in and gestured for her to sit on the other twin bed. When she saw that Heaven hesitated she added, "Oh, go on with you. She will no' mind."

  So they sat on beds that were identical, except for wildly mismatched covers - each occupant having chosen according to her own taste. Song waited patiently while they faced each other, looking a little curious, but unwilling to press Heaven for the reason behind the visit as that might seem inhospitable.

  "I do no' have a kitchen or I would offer you somethin'. I have some limeade in bottles, but 'tis room temperature."

  Heaven shook her head. "Thank you, Song, but I'm fine."

  The silence resumed. So Song tried again. "How have you been then?"

  "Generally well, but I've come with a problem."

  "Oh?"

  "It concerns Istvan Baka."

  "Baka?" The level of concern in Aelsong's expression revealed that she cared more about Baka's well being than Heaven had expected.

  "Have you...?" Heaven hesitated. "Never mind. I don't want to know that."

  Song inferred what question may have been on her guest's mind and was glad she hadn't followed through on asking it.

  "What I'm going to ask you could get me fired."

  "Oh?"

  "And, if you agree to help me, I guess it could get you fired as well."

  "Oh? And then I should be forced to surrender the high pay and palatial livin' to which I've become accustomed?" She waved a delicate, feminine hand in a semi-circle to indicate the dorm-style room.

  Heaven smiled a little. She liked Song and supposed that everybody did.

  "Is Baka in trouble?" Song asked the question quietly, but she had assumed an air of authority that revealed an underlying aptitude for leadership, not the kind taught in scout organizations, the kind people are born with.

  Heaven privately wondered how a woman with two older brothers, both demonstrating remarkably dominant personalities, could find a way to reserve such a palatable measure of self-possession of her own.

  Heaven hadn't met Aelsblood personally, but she assumed he would have to come with a dominant personality or he wouldn't be king of all the lands of Elfdom. She had, of course, met Rammel, but even if she hadn't, the same logic would apply. One doesn't become a Black Swan knight by shrinking from challenges. And Ram wasn't just any Black Swan knight.

  "I don't know. That's why I'm here. All I know is that he's been missing all day. Simon thinks there's no cause for concern; that it's too soon to worry. He thinks Baka might have taken some personal time for a bende
r or a romp or some such thing. But I know something's wrong. "

  "How?"

  "I just do."

  "Oh, aye, the old I-just-do. Familiar with that song myself, I am."

  "He didn't come to work today. I got Simon to open his apartment under protest. Everything is there. Toothbrush, razor, passport. Everything."

  Song stared at her for a few beats with big, intense, blue eyes and then heaved a quick, shallow sigh.

  "You're wantin' me to have a look."

  Heaven nodded feeling like there was pressure forming behind her eyes, the kind of pressure that usually ends in a burst of tears.

  "'Tis no' an assistant's concern you show me."

  Aelsong continued to regard Heaven in her quiet way, her gaze shifting downward to take in her guest's twitchy fingers then back up to the pleading behind her eyes.

  "You love him."

  Heaven stood up too quickly, as if those three words were an accusation of wrongdoing. "What? No. That's not why I'm here. Can you... I mean will you help?"

  "Sit." Song nodded toward the bed. Heaven sat down and composed herself. A little. "I will help. If for nothin' else than my sister-in-law. She's very fond of the rascal and I'm certain she thinks him worth more than this very fine career opportunity."

  Heaven smiled at Song's sarcasm and closed her eyes with relief.

  "I'm goin' into trance. Can you remain quiet and still?"

  Heaven bobbed her head with utter conviction.

  With great care Aelsong built a nest of pillows on the bed. Heaven waited as patiently as possible because... well, because she had no choice. When Song was finally satisfied that her pillow structure would be "just right", she painstakingly eased into place.

  Aelsong began to take deep breaths and let her eyes go closed. Halfway through the third breath, her eyelids began to flutter like she was watching a movie in fast forward and her brows drew together so that lines threatened to form between them.

  "He's in darkness." Heaven sat up straight and leaned forward. "Utter darkness."

  "Real or metaphorical?"

  "Real. He's also in distress and can no' get free."

  "Where is he, Song? Who has him?" Heaven had gushed out three questions before remembering her promise to be both still and quiet. She bit into her tongue and thought about slapping herself, but Aelsong didn't seem perturbed.

  "Underground. Vampire."

  Heaven wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but she was sure it was not good and she was glad she hadn't waited any longer to push forward with finding him. She would get her answers when Aelsong climbed out of trance. She just had to force herself to be patient a little longer.

  "Somethin' else."

  Heaven stared at Song and waited for her to continue. Song opened her eyes looking fully lucid and stared right through Heaven. She whispered, "Song, are you out of trance?"

  Song shook her head and ran a hand over her face. "Aye." Heaven stood when Aelsong started to rise. "Stay where you are." Song pointed for her to sit back down. "This is no' over."

  "What do you mean? I thought you were out of trance."

  "Aye. I am. 'Tis you who's goin' under."

  "What?"

  Song picked up her phone, scrolled down to a contact and dialed a number. Heaven could hear that someone answered. "You want to work a case that could get you fired?" Mumbled answer. "Aye. Okay. Sure. My room. Right now."

  Song hung up and looked at Heaven, but offered no further explanation.

  In less than two minutes there was a soft knock at the door. Song opened it, grabbed a young woman by the sleeve of the robe she wore over silk pajamas, and pulled her in as she protested with a, "Hey!"

  "Before I say anythin', you should know that we could get in a spo' of trouble for this."

  "Yo comprendo the word 'fired', Song."

  The recent arrival looked at Song for a couple of breaths before her gaze slid toward Heaven who got a once over that bordered on rude. Returning her attention to Song, the new arrival's mouth spread into a smile of delight. She cocked her hip and put one hand on her waist.

  "What's the gig?"

  Heaven recognized the accent. American.

  "Missin' person. In trouble. Off the record."

  "Okay. So why would you need me?"

  "I was lookin' into it and somethin' weird made me think of you."

  "I'm touched."

  Song turned to Heaven. "This is Rue. She's only been here a few days."

  Rue looked at Heaven who waved and said, "Hi. Lost here."

  "Really?"

  "No. Her name is Heaven."

  "Yeee," Rue grimaced. "'Lost' was better." Rue looked at her with sympathy.

  "Well, at least I won't be mistaken for a character from Winnie the Pooh," Heaven shot back.

  Rue laughed openly and good-naturedly, clearly appreciating the joke, and letting Heaven know that she enjoyed the art of teasing as dialogue.

  "Heaven, I want you to let Rue hypnotize you. You've got some information locked up tight that is pertinent to the situation."

  "I don't have any information."

  "No' that you know about consciously. 'Tis why we need her. She can get it out of you."

  Heaven looked at Rue like she was Master Torturer of London Tower.

  "It's a nickname. Real name's February."

  "Pisces?"

  Rue shook her head. "Aquarius with moon in Gemini."

  Heaven nodded noncommittally. "Beautiful name."

  She decided that tact was a better choice when interacting with a person who about to take charge of her mind.

  Song smiled. "'Twill no' be the least painful. She may look dumb, but she's very good at what she does."

  Rue looked at Aelsong like she couldn't believe that had just been said. "Thanks."

  The gratitude was dripping with sarcasm, but Song was unfazed. "Welcome. Let's get to it. Where do you want her?"

  Rue looked at Heaven and took on a professional air, as professional as is possible for someone in red silk pajamas and a psychedelic paisley robe.

  "Don't worry, Heaven. There's nothing to this. You can sit or lie down. What would be most comfortable for you?"

  "I don't know. What do you recommend?"

  "Let's get all these pillows off the bed so she can lie down." While Song was pulling pillows off the bed, Rue said, "And we need to dim these lights. Do you have a nite-litey?" Both of the other women looked at her. "What?"

  "I can turn on the closet light and leave the door open a sliver."

  "Okay. That'll work. Heaven, lie down and get comfortable. Song, we need to put some covers on her so she doesn't get cold. If she's a little too warm at first, that's ideal."

  Heaven took off her shoes and tried to find a position that didn't feel awkward while Song pulled a comforter over her and adjusted the lighting according to instructions. "What exactly is your specialty, uh, Rue?"

  "Past lives."

  Heaven sat straight up. "What?" She looked at Song. "Song, what is this?"

  "Somethin' is interferin' with my connection. If I'm wrong, no harm done. If I'm right, then we will know somethin' we did no' know before. Either way it will no' cost you a thin' but your time." She glanced at Rue. "She may be a Yank and rude at that, but, you know, The Order does no' just grab people off the street and assign jobs."

  Heaven looked dubious, but lay back on the bed. "Right. Let's get on with it then."

  Song sat on Gaia's bed. Rue sat in the desk chair by the head of the bed. She really was the very best. Any hypnotist can evoke a state of relaxation that mimics Alpha brain waves. Those who are exceptionally good can help a subject reach the level of Alpha-Theta. But only a handful of people in the world could regularly take a subject all the way to Theta and, in some cases, all the way to Theta-Delta. It is in that state when the most repressed memories - those from past lives - may be accessed and reported.

  Rue began speaking to Heaven quietly, guiding her through some deep breathing and relaxati
on exercises, followed by a visualization of descent which sublimated before directing her consciousness to sleep so that the subconscious mind might come forward and be addressed.

  When Rue was certain her subject was in trance state, she began a series of questions. Song had paper and marker ready in case she had something to add to the questioning.

  "Heaven McBride."

  "Yes."

  "Do you know someone named Istvan Baka?"

  "Yes."

  "What is your relationship to him?"

  "He's my husband."

  Rue and Song looked at one another with startled expressions.

  "How long have you been married?" Heaven appeared to become agitated. "Does that question bother you?"

  "A year."

  "I see. Do you know what year it is?"

  "Yes."

  "What year is it?"

  "1486."

  Song and Rue gave each other a meaningful look.

  "Were you in the same body you occupy now?"

  "No."

  "What is your name?"

  "Helena."

  "Alright, Helena. Can you tell me something about your life together with Istvan Baka in 1486?"

  "I am his third wife. I take care of Stavna and Nikos. I'm pregnant and I'm going to tell him tonight when the children are asleep."

  "Who are Stavna and Nikos?"

  "Children."

  "These are children from the first two marriages."

  "Yes."

  "Did the other two wives pass away?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you love Istvan Baka?"

  "Yes."

  "Does he return your love?"

  "Late."

  Rue looked at Song and shook her head. "You're late?"

  "No. He's late."

  "Where are you right now?"

  "Standing at the window watching the path." Heaven appeared anxious. "It's almost dark. He's never late. Something is wrong."