The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy)

by Charity Santiago

  There.

  “Ash?” Skye said uncertainly.

  She lay still on the operating table. Her entire body was trembling with the effort of maintaining control, the metal of the table’s edges bending beneath her fingers.

  “Resist,” she whispered tightly. “In my pocket.”

  Skye shoved his hand into her pocket and immediately produced the necklace. “Got it,” he said, hurriedly slipping the cord over her head and pushing the gem firmly against the bare skin of her chest.

  The relief was instant, but not as dramatic as she’d hoped, and Ashlyn let out the breath she hadn’t known she was holding, feeling some of the heat and tension fade from her body. Her eyes were still closed, but she could hear every movement in the room, echoing back to her ears and presenting a perfect mental picture of her surroundings. Drake was slumped weakly against the counter to her right, waiting for his body to heal itself from the rapid blood loss. Skye was to her immediate left, his breathing quick and shallow. Sara had finally advanced and was trying to remove the tube from Ashlyn’s arm.

  “Drake! What’s going on? Is she turning?” Skye asked.

  Drake’s voice sounded very far away when he answered. “No. She’s not.”

  His words were the last thing Ashlyn heard before her body reached its breaking point, and she finally succumbed to exhaustion, letting the darkness take her.

  That’s all it was- darkness- for what seemed like an eternity after she closed her eyes. The vampirism fought for a temporary control of her mind, but Ashlyn resisted, her inward stillness providing a barrier against the change.

  When she awoke in her dream, she knew immediately that she was still asleep, partly because she could still feel the pressure of the transformation lingering in her mind, much weaker now but still insistent, and partly because she knew that there was no way her father would be standing in front of her now. Not when she knew he was dead.

  The landscape around them was strangely blank- colorless, without any depth or defining characteristics. Ashlyn and Lord Li stared at each other silently across the expanse of nothingness.

  “You were never meant to lead a normal life,” her father said at last, and Ashlyn blinked, surprised. It wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting.

  “I’m a Li,” she responded. “Nothing we do is normal.”

  He nodded in agreement. “It would serve you well to remember that.”

  “That I’m not normal?” she asked, fighting a smile.

  “No. That you are a Li. No matter what happens.”

  She tilted her head, frowning. “Are you worried about me disowning you, Dad?”

  “Do not forget.”

  She woke up for real then, opening her eyes to see the red stone of Cosmea surrounding her.

  Ashlyn bolted upright, her hand flying to her face. Her skin was warm, but not burning hot like a vampire’s. Neither was it cool, like Drake’s was when he was wearing resist.

  “Took you long enough.” Vargo’s voice came from her right.

  Ashlyn turned towards him, marveling at the crisp clarity of the sound of his voice. “What happened?” she asked, her voice low. “I’m not a vampire, am I?”

  The red-haired Spartan raised an eyebrow, pulling one knee up on the chair with him and resting his arm across it. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, and his forearms were still bandaged. “Not as far as I can tell.”

  Ashlyn looked down, noting that she’d been dressed in clean clothes and the resist stane was gone. She looked around and saw it resting on the stone nightstand beside her bed. “I guess I was able to fight it,” she said softly. But her senses were sharp, almost too sharp. The fine cracks in the stone floor jumped out at her, far-off sounds echoing in her ears.

  “Lockhart said you might feel some effects afterwards,” Vargo offered, watching her closely as she took in her surroundings. “It should wear off soon. But he also said it was unlikely you would have turned, even with as much blood as he gave you. It wasn’t a ‘ritualized exchange,’ whatever that is.”

  Her relief at not being a vampire was nearly overwhelming, and Ashlyn took a deep breath, relishing the fact that it was a necessary habit, that she hadn’t been robbed of the requirement to breathe. With that breath came a catch in her throat as she remembered why, exactly, the transfusion had been necessary in the first place.

  “Where is Drake?” she asked quietly. “And Skye? Did they bring me here?”

  “Aik was the only one who stayed. The others went back to Toryn to search for the rest of the shift stanes.”

  Ashlyn paused, processing his words. “Did...did Ellis and Trace get Kou?”

  He took such a long time to respond that she looked up at him, and the sorrow in his brilliant green eyes cut deeply. She knew the answer before he spoke.

  “No,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  She pursed her lips, fighting back tears.

  “Hey.” Vargo rose, moving to sit beside her on the mattress, and rubbed her back gently.

  The compassion in his tone pushed her over the edge. “My father is dead,” she choked out, and sniffled pathetically.

  “I know, princess,” he said, and pulled her into his arms. “I know.”

  She buried her face in his shoulder and began to cry.

  Chapter 2

  The Letter

  The candlelight waned slightly in the faint breeze making its way through the Cosmean Caverns. The flickering flame refracted off the crystals in the walls surrounding them, turning the small room into a glittering, swirling reflection of light. It was like looking out from the inside of a diamond.

  But Ashlyn paid no attention to the beauty around her. She was breathing deep, legs folded neatly, hands resting on her knees.

  She had meditated more in the last three days than she had in the past ten years combined. As a teenager, she’d scoffed at her dad trying to tell her that meditation helped clear the mind, heal emotional wounds and resolve inner conflict. Now she knew better. And the extensive network of caves beneath Cosmea provided a perfect opportunity for solitude.

  “Why are we here again?” Vargo moaned, breaking into her thoughts. “And how exactly is it possible that you, the most hyperactive person in Kresmir, have no issue sitting still for three hours straight? I think my legs have permanently fallen asleep.”

  Vargo, on the other hand, did not provide any opportunity whatsoever for solitude.

  Ashlyn opened one eye and fixed it on the red-haired Spartan, who was sprawled grumpily against a stalagmite just a few feet away. He’d tolerated her forays into the caves yesterday, but today he’d apparently had enough of her spiritual revolution. So far he’d done nothing but complain.

  She really couldn’t blame him. He was a lot like her- a wanderer by nature. This was probably the longest that he’d ever stayed in one place without an assignment to keep him occupied.

  She decided to quit before he got any more irate, and broke form, stretching her arms over her head and cracking the sore muscles in her neck. Her body was slowly recovering from its influx of vampire blood. Although her bizarre super-senses hadn’t showed any signs of fading, the barely contained and infuriatingly spastic energy that had hummed inside her body was almost gone, and so were the sour mood and ultra-dramatic emotions that were apparently vampiric side effects.

  The experience had given Ashlyn new perspective on Drake and his often inexplicable behavior. If he had to deal with that kind of angst day in and day out, it was no wonder the guy was such a stick in the mud.

  Aik had told her yesterday that he’d done some research on vampirism after they’d arrived in Cosmea, and been relieved to find that there really had been no danger of her turning into a vampire permanently. As Drake had stated, the conversion did require certain magic rituals to be performed, and obviously that hadn’t happened during her transfusion. The only drawback to her situation, Aik had warned, was that some side effects might be lasting.

  If the worst consequence of he
r near-death experience was the sudden appearance of highly developed senses, though, Ashlyn was counting herself one seriously lucky resurrected ninja.

  “We don’t have to meditate,” she said to Vargo, pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around them. “What would you rather do?”

  “What is there to do here?” the Spartan groused. He shifted against the stalagmite, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

  “We could go to the Landslide Festival, I guess.” Ashlyn watched the light flicker off a stunning crystal formation near the entrance to the small room. The Cosmean Caverns were a natural wonder, stretching on for miles, with most of the caves circulating fresh air through various entrances along the way. Even the caves that were deeper in the mountains, far from an exit, rarely smelled stagnant.

  Vargo took out a cigarette and put it between his teeth, but didn’t light it. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m not real good in tight spaces. You can keep meditating, I’ll shut up.”

  “No, I think I’m done.” She smiled at him, genuinely grateful for his presence. “Just being in Cosmea is kind of…I don’t know…regenerating. I’ve always thought that maybe Toryn was like this once. You know, before it became a tourist trap.” Her tone turned bitter on the last sentence.

  “Don’t be so hard on your old man. Maybe he thought it was best for Toryn.”

  “It wasn’t all him, really. It was mostly the four lesser lords. They made a lot of decisions without him. Although I guess I could blame him for not taking an interest in what they were doing.”

  Vargo chuckled. “You really call them the lesser lords? That’s not condescending.”

  “They weren’t really lords! Just glorified advisors. I think they’re all dead now anyway . It’s a little late for them to be offended.”

  “You have such a sincere and touching respect for the dead.”

  There was a pause as they both considered his words, and then he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. That was a severely uncool use of sarcasm. I’m a jerk.”

  “No…it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” She watched as Vargo pulled the cigarette from between his teeth, rolling it in his hands. “You know, I haven’t seen you light a cigarette since we got here.”

  “Trying to quit.”

  “You never smoked them anyway,” she said, bemused. “What’s to quit?”

  Vargo smiled ruefully. “Habit.”

  “Why do you do that, anyway? Light up cigarettes and never smoke them? I’ve wondered that for years.”

  He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “It’s stupid.”

  “Oh, in that case, don’t tell me,” she teased. “I wouldn’t know anything about being stupid, myself.”

  “Shut up. Smart-ass.”

  She said nothing, waiting expectantly, and finally Vargo rolled his eyes.

  “Okay, fine. My father smokes. Every time I smell cigarette smoke, I remember him…and how he lives. I swore I’d never be anything like him. The cigarettes keep me…from forgetting.” Vargo shook his head. “I told you it was stupid.”

  “That’s not stupid!” she exclaimed. “That’s…surprisingly mature.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “I’m serious!”

  “Yeah, thanks for being seriously surprised at my maturity.”

  “Well, you have to admit, neither of us are what anyone would call logical thinkers. We’re both more of the ‘jump now, think later’ types.”

  “Speak for yourself,” he said. “You’re the one always running off, trying to get yourself killed.”

  “And yet, strangely enough, I’m not dead yet. Maybe there’s a method to my madness.”

  “That method is called ‘FLD saving your ass repeatedly,’ and it’s not something to brag about.”

  She had no comeback for that, and smiled guiltily.

  “Let’s just hope you’ve got it all out of your system now,” Skye’s voice broke in, and both Vargo and Ashlyn turned to see him walking in, carrying a small wooden box and a torch.

  “Come to join the party, Damien?” Vargo said to the blond swordsman, making a sweeping motion with his arm. “We were just about to start charades.”

  “Wouldn’t want to miss that,” Skye said unenthusiastically, and Ashlyn giggled.

  “When did you get here?” she asked.

  “Just now. Aik told me you were down here.” Skye set the wooden box down beside her, and she peered over the edge. It was filled with leather-bound books with the curled pages and ink smudges indicative of journals. Ashlyn’s curiosity was piqued, and she looked up at Skye questioningly.

  “These were your dad’s,” he said, taking off his dark glasses and looking around the cave. The light from the torches reflected off his completely obsidian eyes. “We went back to the cave on the southern part of the island and recovered them, along with a number of shift stanes and weapons.”

  “Did you find Kou?” Vargo inquired, climbing to his feet.

  “Not yet. But we got the rest of his shift soldiers. Three of them actually surrendered and requested to return to the city and their families. Restlyn is dealing with that.”

  “Only three?” Ashlyn asked, disappointed. So many lives had been lost in this war. It was such a waste.

  Skye continued, “Jackson sent four more Spartans to the northern continent to help Ellis and Trace search for him, and FLD is still in Toryn.” He hesitated, then glanced at Ashlyn. “There are three Spartans here now. They’re not here to make you uncomfortable- just to make sure that if Kou does show up, he won’t cause any trouble for you. I knew you’d rather have them here than in Toryn, and you do need some protection from Kou.”

  “Of course,” Ashlyn murmured, running a hand over the journals. She didn’t know the other Spartans, but Cosmea was part of the Free Lands, and they had every right to be here.

  “I said I’d bring you back for debriefing,” Skye said to Vargo.

  The red-haired man nodded, and nudged Ashlyn’s foot with his. “You gonna be okay down here alone for a bit?”

  She smothered a smile behind her hand, biting back the sarcastic retort that immediately sprang to her lips. “I think so,” she said meekly.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.” Vargo didn’t wait for her reply, heading for the exit. “Saved me from any more meditation,” he tossed over his shoulder, and Ashlyn rolled her eyes. He was just as eager to get out of these caves as she was to get some time alone.

  Skye watched Vargo leave, then turned back to Ashlyn. He pulled an envelope from his vest and held it out to her. “This is for you,” he said.

  “For me? What is it? Season passes to the Silverbell Theme Park?” She snatched the envelope and waved it with feigned glee. “Oh Skye, you’re the absolute best at picking out ‘so glad you’re not dead’ gifts. Although a fruit basket would have been nice, too.”

  Skye’s boots scraped on the stone floor as he turned away. “It’s from Drake.”

  Before she could think to collect herself, he was gone, and she stared down at the envelope with considerable trepidation.

  To say that her relationship with Drake Lockhart was tumultuous would be the understatement of the century. But then, Drake brought a lot of baggage with him. His story was as dark and dramatic as it got. He’d been the leader of Lord Angelo’s Spartan assassins, but had fallen in love with an Angel named Loritta and tried to save her from Lord Angelo’s genocide. When Lord Angelo found out, he’d punished Drake in the worst way possible, first by torturing him and then by turning him into a vampire and unleashing him on the citizens of Endro. It took weeks before Drake was subdued by the Endroans, who also gifted him with the resist stane to control his bloodlust. By then, Loritta was dead, and Drake spent years believing that he had murdered the only woman he’d ever loved.

  If there was a bright spot in the tragedy of Drake’s life, it was that his quest for revenge on Lord Angelo had revealed the truth. He was not responsible for Loritta’s demi
se. She had been killed by Lord Angelo shortly before Drake was turned.

  Ashlyn had been crazy about Drake for what felt like forever, crushing hard during their adventures together three years ago. Even after they’d gone their separate ways, she’d always harbored a secret affection for the stoic vampire. It hadn’t been until recently that she’d begun to suspect that the feeling was mutual. Her awkward attempts at initiating a relationship had first been met with rejection, and then…

  And then he kissed me by the waterfall.

  Her cheeks heated as she remembered that night. They’d rescued Lord Li from Kou’s army, but Kou had cut the cord that held Drake’s resist stane, and the vampire’s murderous nature had taken over. Drake had tracked Ashlyn and Lord Li after they’d escaped the army, and attacked Ashlyn outside the cave she’d taken refuge in.

  At the last moment, he’d managed to stop himself, begging silently for help as he fought to control the monster within. Ashlyn had given him resist. It was then that he had kissed her.

  Later, when they were back in Toryn, he’d given her the second resist stane, only to turn around and reject her again just hours later.

  You deserve to be with a man, he’d told her. A man who can rule beside you, who can grow old with you.

  Ashlyn shook her head mutely, tracing her fingertips across the front of the envelope. Drake had been concerned for her during their blood transfusion, but that really didn’t mean anything. Whatever he had t sa in this letter, she sincerely hoped it wasn’t more of the same. She didn’t think she could handle any more heartbreak just now.

  Slowly, she opened the envelope, and pulled out several folded pages of thick, heavy paper. As she unfolded the pages, she recognized Drake’s neat, elegant handwriting.

  Dear Ashlyn, the first page said across the top. Not such an awful start. Ashlyn rubbed her thumb across her name, chewing nervously on her lower lip.

  First, the letter continued, let me offer my deepest condolences for your loss. Your father was a courageous man and an exceptional leader. There are no words to adequately convey my sorrow at his passing, or my devastation at being kept from you during a time when I would like nothing more than to offer my support and love.