The Kala Trilogy: An Urban Fantasy Box Set

by Teagan Kearney

  “Thanks, but I got it covered.” Okay, it wouldn’t be the top of the range modern or expensive antiques he enjoyed in his extensive underground lair, but whatever she chose, she’d pay for it herself. “Coffee or sage tea?”

  “Coffee. Black—

  “I remember. Black, no sugar. Have a seat.” She gestured at the breakfast bar.

  Vanse sat, not saying a word, never taking his gaze off her as she made him coffee, and a cup of sage tea for herself.

  “So, what can I do for you?” She kept her tone neutral, her emotions under control, sensing nothing from the link. He was behaving, not pushing the boundaries... not yet anyway.

  “How are you?”

  Away from Orleton, everything had been sorted. Now she was back, face-to-face with him, nothing was clear anymore. Her skin prickled as her power rose and fell, responding to her wavering emotions. Relax, she told herself. It’s a normal question to ask when you’ve not seen someone for a while. Everyone will be asking the same thing. The connection flared and a wave of power from Vanse enveloped her, soothing, easing the pain of remembering.

  “Don’t!” She cut him off sharp and quick.

  “Tatya, you can’t pretend the past hasn’t happened. Whether you desire it or not, I’m in your life. I am always aware of your emotions, and affected by them. Even if I didn’t have these feelings for you, your change is comparatively recent. As your maker and someone who observes those obligations, I’m duty bound to help.”

  Tatya’s power surged, a white-hot throb of anger. She flexed her hands as power dripped from her fingertips and the cup between her hands glowed. Well, there went her control. “Obligations? What does that mean? And I don’t want your help, thanks. I’m a grown woman and capable of managing without it.”

  “Vampires have laws we are supposed to follow. There are consequences for those who don’t. I’ll explain them if you wish.”

  “No, I don’t wish. You are not my master. Not now, not ever.” She slammed her cup down on the counter. A sharp crack echoed through the kitchen. She stared at the smashed pieces in horror.

  Another surge of power; this time restraining her. “Tatya.” A world of sadness in the way he spoke her name.

  Her resistance crumbled, and suddenly his arms were around her, holding her close, stroking her hair, sending wonderful shivers of pleasure down her spine. The idea of surrender was tempting—she just had to give in—so easy. “Promise me you will never compel me to do anything.”

  “Tatya...”

  “If you can’t promise me I have free will, then linked or not, there’s no future in this relationship.” She stared up him, her teeth biting her lower lip. He was beautiful. The lines of his cheekbones and jaw. The brown eyes full of emotion; regret, sadness, love. She saw them in his gaze, but she wouldn’t be controlled. Not by him, not by anybody. She pushed him away. He let her go.

  “I will not force you, Tatya, but we have always had, and always will have a connection.”

  Was this his method of bringing her up-to-date? Informing her the rules of the game had changed? “Our lives are too different for you and me to work. Besides, a proper relationship takes two equal partners.” She saw him flinch. Yes, he could compel her, but that wasn’t his style. Damn him. Passion for him from past lives swirled and mixed with her feelings for him in this one, impossible to separate one from the other.

  “I’ll make you a promise, Tatya.” He smiled. That lazy smile of his. “I am capable of waiting for as long as it takes for you to work out whatever it is that’s bothering you; unless I think you are in danger our bond will stay dormant. I’ll keep my distance, and will not activate my dominance for the moment. Will that satisfy you?”

  “For the moment?” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “Yes, fine. Okay. Stay out of my life.” She searched under the sink, found a dustpan and brush, and began cleaning up the mess. “You know where the door is.” She didn’t look up at him, but there was no ignoring the weight of his intent pressing on her as he left. Or the sense of isolation and loneliness after he’d gone.

  Chapter Three: First Signs

  Tatya spent the morning painting walls. She sighed with satisfaction as she laid the brush down after the final stroke. Yes, she’d chosen well. The green created a peaceful atmosphere and would ease anxious patients. After lunch, wanting a change of scenery, she decided to go for a drive.

  There were two directions out of Orleton. The highway south took you past the reservation, or you went north. Moving on automatic, Tatya drove north, enjoying the mild air blowing in the open window. The sharp bite of winter was gone, and the air felt mild against her skin. Puffs of white cotton wool scudded across the sky. Winter’s leaden clouds, their underbellies heavily pregnant with snow, had departed. She relished the signs of renewal with lush baby leaves on the trees, and buds pushing up through the earth.

  Certain markers, the turn-off to the Jenkins’ property, Mrs. O’Malley’s beat-up mailbox, and the road narrowing before the double bend were so familiar. This was a route she’d traveled regularly, and for a brief second, she pretended she was on her way home. The home Aunt Lil had welcomed her into after rogue vampires caused a train wreck killing hundreds of innocent people, including her parents. A tragedy that left her with a lifelong antipathy toward vampires—at least until she’d run into Vanse.

  She didn’t hesitate. This would be the first time she’d visited since Angelus burned the house to the ground. She had to see the place sooner or later, otherwise she’d never be able to decide whether to rebuild or sell. Now was as good a time as any.

  Her heart beat faster as she drove up the gravel driveway, now invaded by weeds, parking exactly where she used to when there’d been a front porch. She sat for a minute, eyes closed, concentrating on her breath before looking at the remains of the house where she and Sean began their herb business. Ignoring the painful swell of emotion, and the flood of memories, she studied the area. There, at the rear of the property were the outlines of the old herb plots. She and Sean had grown calluses on their calluses clearing and preparing the soil. Growing and harvesting the herbs had been Sean’s domain. Memories of his dreadlocked hair and wiry frame mixed with her later images of him as a vampire when the change had straightened his hair, lengthened and perfected his body structure. But he’d still been Sean.

  Angelus had been merciless in his pursuit of her, using an innocent to manipulate Sean into murdering her aunt. Knowing what he’d done had destroyed Sean, and he’d begged his master to end his life. She’d never forget the look on Vanse’s face before he plunged the dagger into Sean’s heart. For vampires, a species incapable of bearing young, those they turned were their children, and no parent should have to kill their child. But there was no other method of removing the demonic presence possessing Sean. If she ever thought vampires had no feelings, she just had to remember the look in his eyes that day.

  She choked back a sob, wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks. She’d cried an ocean after losing the two people dearest to her, and was moving on, but seeing part of her old life literally burned to the ground was upsetting.

  As she followed the old path that led around the house, images of Sean, muddy boots, an old jacket, hair tied back as he planted seedlings, and later watered, harvested, and dried them, sprang to mind. Aunt Lil had done the housekeeping, and they had focused on the business. But she’d done more than clean and feed them. She’d encouraged them when they doubted, given advice over which herbs did well in their soil, put them in contact with suppliers and distributors, and made everyone aware of Tatya’s healing skills. Her aunt’s word had carried weight in the community, and her help in launching their business had been invaluable.

  Tatya’s long-term plan was to rebuild the business. She, Aunt Lil, and Sean had often fantasized about extending the house and buying more land when the business became a success. With the insurance money and her inheritance she could redesign and rebuild, but she hadn’t yet made a d
ecision. The shop owner had offered to sell her the property in town if she was interested in buying. The practicality of production, distribution and better access for clients in one place was appealing. The downside was not much room for expansion. She’d always envisioned establishing a center where people could obtain a variety of physical and psychic services. Deciding on a permanent location wouldn’t be a quick or easy decision.

  She heard a sound. For a second she thought it was the artifact. Neither she nor Vanse had discovered its nature or origin, but they realized Angelus had engineered its appearance in her home—and the resulting destruction. In her anger at the demon, she’d blasted the spinning helix out of existence. Closing her eyes, she listened to the wind in the trees, the sounds of the birds, the occasional vehicle passing. She stilled her senses, focusing on her breathing till all external noises faded. She could still hear a deep slow hum, barely registering, but there on the edge of her hearing.

  Then she recognized the refrain. It was the Bandrui chant her spirit guides had left for protection. Reassured, she raised her shields and extended her senses, scrying for any remnant of Angelus’s presence. From out of nowhere a spike of pain stabbed her heart. She slammed down her shields, gasping for breath.

  The link flared to life.

  “What was that? Are you all right?” Concern laced Vanse’s voice.

  She breathed out in relief. “I’m fine. I’m at my old house. It’s nothing. Probably just an echo from the past.”

  “Do you need me to come?”

  “No. But thank you.”

  He closed the link.

  She was ridiculously pleased as the image of his lazy smile grew in her mind, then irritated because she was pleased that he responded instantly to her emotional swings. Her defenses were already weakening and crumbling at the edges—if only the situation was more straightforward. He knew she desired him, but she could barely admit it even to herself. A lifetime of prejudice against vampires meant following her heart was an intricate dance of avoidance and denial versus irresistible attraction. Was it merely a matter of time before she gave in to him? If that was the case, she’d make him work for it. In the meantime, she’d manage fine on her own. She was heading for the truck when her phone rang. She checked the caller. “Hey, Corwin. What’s up?”

  “Any chance you’re able to drop by the station in the next half hour? Got some stuff I want to run by you, if you’ve got the time.”

  “On my way as we speak.”

  When Corwin asked her if he could run some stuff by her, what he meant was he wanted her to scry for additional clues not found by traditional police methods. This was probably something to do with the dead woman. Gunning the truck out of the drive, her mood lifted. This was her town; she had a place, helped people, and did well here. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  Tatya pulled into the police station parking lot. More bad memories. The last time she’d been here Angelus had attacked her. Realization dawned. Everywhere she went in Orleton, she’d find memories. The reality she had to face was if she chose to live here, she had to adjust or leave. Even then, her memories and the connection to Vanse would go wherever she went.

  Bill was picking up files off the floor and dumping them back on the table next to his computer when Tatya arrived.

  “Still in the same old room, Bill? When are they going to give you a promotion and a new office?”

  “They did ask me if I was interested in running for sheriff of Renberg County after last autumn. A county full of wealthy people, bigger budget, more prestige, less risk, smaller workload, but it also would mean moving away from Orleton. This is where I married, and watched my kids grow up. I have been here a long time, and I’m a creature of habit.”

  Tatya thought it was more likely Bill couldn’t have stomached the politics involved, or boredom would have killed him off sooner than any danger he faced.

  “Any news on…”

  “Yes, and give me a sec.” Bill pulled his inhaler out and took a pull. “Damn asthma. Okay, now you’re certain you have time, what with getting the shop ready and all?”

  She recalled the red-brown curls around a young woman’s face as she lay dead far from home and her loved ones. “If I can do anything to help catch whoever murdered that poor girl, I’m in. Waiting for paint to dry is boring.”

  A careworn grin lit up Bill’s face. “You’re a gem, Tatya.”

  A bright-eyed young man with hair sticking up like a brush, and a coffee cup in each hand elbowed the door open. He was the deputy who had replaced Bellamy, Corwin’s previous deputy, who’d lost his life fighting demons. Corwin handed a cup to Tatya.

  “Tatya, meet Branton. Branton meet Tatya.”

  The pair nodded at each other.

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” A soft southern drawl.

  “I believe we met once before?”

  “Yes, ma’am, we did.”

  “Please, less of the ma’am. Call me Tatya.”

  “Yes ma’am. Sorry, yes, Tatya.”

  Branton moved a pile of papers off a chair, balancing them on a tiny empty space at the corner of Bill’s desk, before sitting down.

  “As I was saying, and this is confidential till we make a press release, the parents have confirmed her identity, and our victim is a Tika Fortes. None of her friends, family or colleagues have seen her since the day before yesterday. She’s twenty-two, works as an insurance agent and just received a promotion; been going steady with the same boyfriend for the past two years, and he’s saving for an engagement ring. She was last seen leaving the Blue Pines around seven after going with a few colleagues for a meal and drinks after work. She left early because she was meeting the boyfriend. Never met him. Never made it home. Her car’s still in the car park. Forensics is waiting on results, and Mr. Fortes is bringing in a piece of clothing. He should be here soon, and I’d like you to do your thing on it Tatya, see what you find. That’s all we have for the present.”

  “So, a vamp grabs her after she leaves the bar?” Branton asked.

  A pair of mesmerizing blue eyes, red-gold hair falling forward, and fangs piercing her jugular. Tatya shivered, sipped her coffee, using the burn from the liquid on her lips to anchor herself in the present.

  “You okay, Tat?” Corwin had been there. He’d tried to help.

  “I’m fine.” She didn’t have to say more.

  He understood the similarities. “And I’ve another favor to ask.”

  “Name away.”

  “Branton, don’t you have something to do?”

  The young deputy looked blank for a second before understanding dawned.

  “Er, yeah, I’ll check if Mr. Fortes has arrived.” He hurried out of the room.

  “What don’t you want him to hear?” Tatya asked.

  “Have you seen Vanse since you got back?”

  “What is it, Bill?”

  “The Blue Pines is the bar nearest the hospital. Now, I don’t think it’s anyone with a connection to Vanse, but after you’ve done your thing with whatever the parents bring in, will you drop in on him, and ask if there’s any unusual activity going on? You know, the rogue vampire kind? I hate to take advantage of you like this, Tat, but you’ve got a better relationship with him than I do. It’s okay to tell him the reason. Ask him to keep it to himself, though.”

  “Isn’t it better if you ask him? I mean, you’re the law officer.”

  ‘Then it looks as if I suspect it’s one of his. Relations between vamps and the people of Orleton have never been better, and I want it kept that way. You’re still on good terms with him, right?”

  “It’s complicated, Bill, but it’s not a problem.”

  A knock on the door and Branton’s head appeared.

  “Fortes has a flat tire. He’ll be late.” He withdrew.

  “Why don’t I go over to St. Raphael’s now, and you can drop by mine later with the item?”

  ‘Sounds good. You’re positive you’re okay with seeing Vanse?” Corwin looked
anxious.

  “Well, seeing as how he saved my life on a number of occasions, I’m kind of obligated. Besides, he dropped by last night.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Tat. We’ll catch-up later.”

  By the time Tatya left the station and crossed the car park, her control was slipping. Maybe she wasn’t ready to face the memories? Maybe she shouldn’t have gone to the old house today? At Eve’s she thought she’d gained some perspective from the traumas of last year, but the reality of being back here was more difficult than she’d imagined. She quenched the power building in her gut. If she gave it rein, it would fill her, run down her arms, coalesce in her hands, white light flickering and ready to burst from her fingertips. Six months’ work shot to hell after a couple of days in Orleton. She threw the truck into gear and pulled out of the car park, missing a car by a hair’s breath, and slammed her foot down on the accelerator, gratified by the resulting speed.

  Last night she’d told Vanse she wanted nothing to do with him; that she didn’t want him in her life; that unless it was life or death she wouldn’t be seeing him soon. But she owed Corwin big time, and she’d do anything for her friends.

  Chapter Four: Attraction

  Mid-afternoon and there wasn’t much traffic. Tatya forced herself to slow down. No point in getting a ticket for speeding. But as St. Raphael’s came in sight, she couldn’t control the force sparking from her fingertips and pulled over to the curb. Her hands were rigid on the steering wheel, her eyes shut tight. She’d replayed this moment over and over in her mind, but the reality unnerved her more than she’d anticipated. I’ve got to do better than this. Breathe, focus on breathing. I made this decision to return. I just need to get myself under control. This is what readjustment is like; ride this wave, and the next, and however many more come. They’ll pass and I’ll be fine.

  The hospital had been her nemesis last year. Vanse’s lair lay below the basement, an elaborate series of levels where he and his minions lived, worked and played. She remembered the ballroom which had become the headquarters of the fight against Angelus and the hordes from hell. Aunt Lil and Sean had died here. Tatya was a healer and her work often involved easing people’s pain, but she didn’t promise miracles, and a few clients inevitably ended up in one of the wards. She couldn’t avoid the place forever; she had to be able to function here.