She’d put a lot of work into maintaining the pretense that she wasn’t attracted to Vanse, despite the evidence ripping holes in her charade. Even last night, the first time she’d come face-to-face with him, she’d found a reason to continue the deceit. But the truth was becoming more difficult to evade. She had loved him over many lifetimes—nearly marrying him in one—and he’d spent lifetimes waiting for her, leaving whatever situation he was in whenever she took birth and saving her. Okay, it kind of sucked that killing her proved to be the only way of preventing Angelus from gaining control of her, but weird though it was, he’d had no choice, and acted out of love. He’d showed he was as incapable of denying the attraction between them as she was. The past wasn’t the problem… it was the present. If she couldn’t accept the situation, she should leave Orleton. She had to get a grip on this thing between them. She centered on the in and out of her breath, and regained control of her wayward emotions. Her reaction to seeing the place again was natural. The entire time she stayed with Eva, she’d viewed events with dispassion, had focused and controlled her abilities without disruption. But her strength increased around Vanse and her skill in handling them lessened. Changing Sky was due home soon. She needed to talk with him. If anyone had an answer, he did.
Tatya entered the foyer, composed, and with her powers dampened. Punching the elevator button, she fingered her talisman, the image of Lord Narasimha, hanging on a silver chain around her neck. Eva had given it to her for her birthday one year, and she’d treasured it ever since. The Hindu Deity, an incarnation of Vishnu, watched over his devotees and made her feel safe.
She rode the empty elevator down to the basement where warded doors guarded access to the lair at deeper levels. Someone would be on guard who’d take her to Vanse. Perhaps someone who’d fought at her side last year. She didn’t care how childish it appeared, she stubbornly refused to connect with him to gain entrance; she’d have liked to knock as you did when you visited a normal person. Except Vanse wasn’t normal. He was the vampire lord of Orleton and the surrounding counties, which made him a big shot in vamp society.
The basement was empty. No one in sight. The sound of her boots on the concrete floor echoed eerily. A faint whisper. She scanned the space, alert and ready to act. Nothing. She reached the end of the passageway, resisting the temptation to scry for the hidden doors because that would alert Vanse to her presence.
A hiss. She turned to find two vamps, young men in their late teens or early twenties, probably newbies, standing at the other end of the corridor.
“Hi. I’m here to see your master.” Boy, did that sound weird. “Er, is he available?”
The two vamps moved, blurring into action, one in front and one behind her.
She raised her shields, and the skills taught her by Otakay, Changing Sky’s spirit warrior, sprang to mind. With no effort, scarcely thinking about what she was doing, she tossed off two bright bolts of energy at them.
Stunned, and caught by surprise, they staggered.
Tatya’s slender build belied her strength.
The vamps looked at each other and simultaneously charged her.
Her eyes glowed, golden glints flashing in their depths, and she drew on her power. She was going to enjoy this.
“Tatya! Stop!”
Suddenly the link activated, blazing gold, with vivid red flashes of rage pulsing along its length. Vanse had arrived. He threw up a barrier, enclosing the vamps, freezing them in mid-motion.
Tatya relaxed as the danger receded but threw up more shielding as Vanse turned his anger on the two guards.
With a glance, he had them on their knees, hands to their heads, their faces twisted in pain. Fury roiled off him in dark crimson waves. “Don’t you know who this is?” he grated, gold sparking from his eyes. “This is Tatiana. She has the privileges of a consort and must be treated accordingly. She is never to be touched. Or approached. Or questioned. Under any circumstances.”
By now they were groveling at Vanse’s feet, blood tears from the pain seeping down their cheeks.
“Understood.”
“Yes, Master.”
Tatya had watched Vanse kill Sean, and the tenderness he bore toward Sean had been evident. Watching Vanse discipline these two showed her a different side of his character. She bit back the urge to yell at him, demand he stop hurting them on her behalf, but she understood enough of vamp society to know that it operated as a strict hierarchy; any intercession from her might be interpreted as a weakening of his powers.
He had to demonstrate nothing less than total dominance. As quickly as he’d enthralled them, he released them, and they stood with bowed heads as Vanse took her arm and led her through a warded door.
Tatya said nothing. She felt guilty knowing his displeasure with the guards was on her account. They both knew the newbie vamps didn’t have enough strength to hurt her. An odd combination of horror and flattery at his reaction swept over her. Descending several flights of stairs and walking through Vanse’s underground lair brought more memories. She squished them flat, shoved them in the box, refusing to dwell on them.
“I realize it’s difficult for you to visit me, Tatya. We can talk in here.” He ushered her into a room she’d not seen during her previous stay, and which appeared to be his office.
The room was spacious. An enormous mahogany desk with a laptop occupied almost one half of the room; a luxurious brown leather couch, two matching armchairs, and a small coffee table spread across the rest. Obviously, a place for more confidential meetings and whatever business he ran that allowed him to live in such luxury. Yes, she’d been struck by how expensive his tastes were the last time she’d had the misfortune to be a guest.
‘Make yourself at home.” Vanse gestured toward the couch.
She chose one of the armchairs. “Just out of interest, what kind of business do you run? Because you’re evidently successful.”
Vanse threw himself down on the couch, taking care to keep his distance. “I see you are recovered from your reception. My apologies, Tatya. I would have instructed them if I’d known you planned on visiting. But I promise you I’m doing my best to keep the bond dormant.”
‘So that little scene was my fault?” Baiting Vanse always cheered her up. “And while you’re at it, explain exactly what are consort privileges?” She arched an eyebrow at him. “I wasn’t in any danger.”
“That’s beside the point. Supernaturals must learn having strength doesn’t mean they should use it as a first resort on every occasion. Our young aren’t let out of the lair until they understand that if they behave as those two did, they won’t be allowed to mix with human society, and possibly never let out at all. But you’re not here to learn about the laws governing vampire society. How can I help you, Tatya?”
He hadn’t responded to her either of her questions; something had changed. Vanse appeared more detached, more controlled than last night. Sitting here alone with him, she was acutely aware how his physical presence dominated the space. He was beautiful, even for a vampire; golden skin, soulful brown eyes, high cheekbones, and shoulder length black hair. Stop it, she told herself. I’m here for business, not pleasure.
Though the connection stayed dormant, the smirk on his face said some things hadn’t changed—he could still read her.
“Corwin asked me to drop in and ask if you’ve heard of any rogue vampires passing through the county.”
“He couldn’t drop by himself?” The smile lurking at the corners of his mouth grew wider. He was openly enjoying the fact she’d come to him.
“He didn’t want you to think he suspects any of your vamps. Which you might think if he’d come.” Now it was her turn to pretend indifference as she studied the no doubt priceless painting on the wall behind him.
He activated the bond, and her heart melted under the strength of his emotion. He could do this anytime he wanted. Let her know that he loved her, that he would always love her. He’d wait as long as he had to, yet he didn’t hes
itate to let her experience what she was missing.
Abruptly he cut her off. “I’m sorry. It’s not easy for me to control the bond when I’m close to you. Especially now I don’t have to fear Angelus’s return.”
“You don’t sound sorry, and you haven’t answered my question. Are there any rogue vamps around, either local or not?”
“Are you allowed to tell me what the problem is?”
“A young woman was found dead in the woods by the hospital.” She watched him take in this information. “Bill says it was a vamp.”
“You found the body. Yesterday morning, wasn’t it? The link transmits emotions, Tatya. I sense what you feel. I can’t see what you’re looking at, but I am expert at interpreting emotions. I will ask my people if any new or unfamiliar faces passed through town recently and I will check with the other masters in adjacent territories and see if they’ve heard anything.” He sounded tired. “But how are you doing, Tatya?”
“Fine. I’ll be opening for business as soon as my ordered supplies arrive.” She’d put in a large order to restock the basic herbs she sold.
“Can you let me know when you have some vervain?”
Her eyes widened. “An unusual request.”
“It has its uses, even for vampires.”
“Okay. I’ll let Bill know what you said. I think that’s everything. Thank you.” She refused to be drawn into spending more time than necessary with him. Yes, damn it, she did want him, but she wasn’t ready to capitulate... not yet anyway.
“One other thing, before I escort you out. Have you had any dreams of Angelus?”
A cold shiver and the hairs on her neck rose in premonitory warning. “I have one reoccurring dream if that’s what you mean? What about you?”
“Sometimes I think I sense him.”
Tatya and her Bandrui spirit guides, Changing Sky and his shamanic magics, plus every bit of power available to Vanse and his vampires had joined to vanquish Angelus and banish him to the hellish world inhabited by the demon species. Centuries ago he’d become half-vampire to evade expulsion, yet together they’d achieved what the ancients failed to do.
“But how is that possible? I mean he can’t access this plane. Can he?”
“In theory, no. In reality, with demons anything is possible. But no, I’m convinced he won’t be returning.”
As she drove out of St. Raphael’s car park, Tatya couldn’t get the troubled look on Vanse’s face out of her mind. Nor the sense of shadows gathering.
Chapter Five: New Acquaintances
White clouds in wind-striated patterns drifted across the pale blue late afternoon sky, creating a patchwork of light and shadows on the grasslands below.
Tatya accepted the fresh cup of sage tea from Changing Sky. She continued to gaze at the ever-changing view as she sipped the fragrant brew and enjoyed the mild air warming her skin.
“You must live in the present, not in the past. The past is gone. Yes, it lives in our memories, but one who lives in their memories is not living. It’s true we perform ceremonies to honor our ancestors, but that is different.”
Tatya bowed her head. “I try, but it’s difficult. Working on the shop is keeping me busy, but the dreams...” she trailed off.
“I will give you herbs for sleeping. I will also do a spirit walk and inquire from my guides if anything is astir.”
The low buzz of a motor interrupted their conversation, and they watched an open-topped red sports Chevy park beside Tatya’s truck. A young man squinted up at them then ran up the hill in long smooth strides.
Tatya hid a smile. Young men everywhere liked to show off, and she studied the man as he reached the top of the hill; waist length thick crow-black hair, well-built, and clearly spent hours working on his physique. He was handsome with almond-shaped dark brown eyes, a jaw the envy of any male model, and the haughty air of someone who didn’t lack confidence.
There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t pinpoint where she’d seen him before. She couldn’t help but compare him to Vanse. The man in front of her was shorter and broader yet emanated the same male alpha energy. Vanse was more elegant with his taller leaner build and more lethal. This young buck had the strength and vigor of youth; Vanse carried an eternity of death with him.
The young man’s gaze slid over Tatya, his eyebrows drawing together, and his mouth turning down before he bowed to Changing Sky. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said without a hint of regret. “I had a flat tire.”
“Tatya, this is Forked Lightning. Forked Lightning, meet Tatya.”
They shook hands, and a small shiver passed through her.
Forked Lightning recoiled, staring at his hand as if he’d been burned.
“Sit. I’ll get you tea.”
As Changing Sky went inside, Tatya raised her shields and gave her companion a quick scry out of the corner of her eye. His outer aura was the deep blue of intelligence; patches of gray and shards of scarlet flashed closer to his skin. He was anxious, and something was making him angry. Ah, yes, now she remembered. He was the shapeshifter she’d seen when visiting the rez last year. She recalled his growl—he was a werewolf—and he’d acted as chauffeur for Changing Sky when the shaman came to her house for the Calling Back the Dead ceremony. He wasn’t as openly hostile as he’d been on the previous occasion, but he wasn’t friendliness personified.
Neither of them spoke, but they sat gazing out over the reservation. The shaman did nothing without a purpose. They would simply have to wait till he revealed it.
When Changing Sky returned with sage tea for both of them, the atmosphere mellowed. The old man sat between them and waited with well-practiced patience till they’d emptied their cups before speaking. “Now you’ve made each other’s acquaintance, I need you to understand a few things. Tatya, although you are the most talented pupil I have, you can never be the tribe’s shaman.”
Forked Lightning stiffened.
Changing Sky stared at him until he lowered his gaze. “That is the purpose for which I’m training this arrogant young pup. But I need you to work together. Both of you will put aside any hostility you have toward each other. Is that clear?” He turned to Tatya.
Tatya nodded vigorously.
“Good. That’s it for today. Forked Lightning, escort Tatya to her car, then return.”
Forked Lightning’s eyes narrowed. “No problem.”
“Tatya, you’ll have those sage bracelets in a day or two.”
“That’s great. They’re one of my most popular items. Thank you.” She bowed to her guide and mentor; he knew how grateful she was to him for his love and kindness to her.
Forked Lightning strode off down the hill, setting a fast pace. He kept looking back as if to check how much distance he’d put between them.
Tatya suspected he hoped she’d lag behind, then he could ignore her. However to his discomfort, she had no difficulty keeping up with him, no matter how he increased his pace. Before the change, he’d have reached the bottom by the time she was half way down, but not now. She made no effort at conversation. Even without lifting her shields, she sensed his anger spiking, but she wasn’t going to give him any reason to target her.
By the time they reached her car, beads of sweat decorated Forked Lightning’s brow.
“Well, thank you for the escort. I look forward to working with you.” She laced her words with a tad of glamour—not something she often did—but if they had to work with each other, she’d use whatever it took to satisfy Changing Sky.
Forked Lightning bristled as if stung. “We may have to work together now, and I won’t refuse because it’s Changing Sky’s request, but you have no place among my people.” He leaned forward and hissed at her. “I can’t tell what type of mongrel mixture you have in your blood,” he sniffed, a disdainful expression on his face, “but when I become the tribe’s shaman, then you will no longer be welcome. Is that clear?”
Tatya flinched at his ferocity. She clamped down on her resentment. W
ho did he think he was, talking to her in that way? Vanse would finish him in a flash if she asked. This guy was nothing but a jumped up were, acting as if she was a lesser species, and he, a far superior alpha. Turning her back on him, she climbed into her truck, revving the engine hard before she drove off, grinning widely as she watched him choke on her dust.
During the drive back to Orleton, her mood had changed. Whatever Forked Lightning’s problem was, she wasn’t the cause. She sat in the truck studying the outside of her shop. The door and outside window frames were painted the same pale green color as inside, and she was pleased with the updated modern appearance. The name of the shop looked great, and maybe the running leaf motif either side could be continued around the inside of the windows? She’d yet to commission the mural but would ask the artist if she could do that too. She’d also need window displays with curb appeal for the casual shopper. Making every decision without needing approval or consulting with anyone was a new step, but she was enjoying the challenge.
She thought of Bill and the dead girl. He’d be under pressure. Orleton was a small place, and news of the murder would have sent disturbing ripples through the town. Vanse hadn’t contacted her. She hoped that meant no rogue vamps in the vicinity. Enduring prejudice dictated humans place supernaturals at the top of any suspect list for most crimes, and ruling them out was always a positive first step.
As if summoned, Vanse’s vampmobile, a black Cadillac XTS with leather seats and custom fittings, cruised along Main Street toward her. He parked and got out.
She blinked a few times at the sight of him.
Taller than average, six four at least, Vanse possessed the perfect male shape of wide shoulders and narrow hips; he was muscular, but in a lean powerful way; his thick black wavy hair, blue highlights picked out by the sun, fell past his shoulders; with high cheekbones, a firm jaw, and wide brown eyes that looked straight into her soul.
The Kala Trilogy: An Urban Fantasy Box Set Page 25