The Kala Trilogy: An Urban Fantasy Box Set

by Teagan Kearney

  Ten minutes later, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Now she was finished, the only thing she wanted was her comfortable bed.

  “We owe you.” Daniel was serious. “Let me know when I can repay the favor. No matter what you ask, it’s yours.”

  “Thanks, but to be honest, these are safety measures, precautions, and although they’ll give you an edge, they won’t stop this vampire.”

  “I’m aware of that, but you’ve come out here and given your aid, demanding nothing in return. That puts us in your debt. Not a lot of people would do that for a bunch of werewolves.”

  Tatya smiled. This had been a good night’s work.

  Chapter Sixteen: Anatolia, 1265 AD

  Vanse doubled over, crying out and falling to his knees.

  “Can I help? Tell me what I should do.” Fabio stared around the dark cave, a primitive lair that bore no comparison to the palazzo in Venezia. It smelled of wild animals even after they’d cleaned out the dried scat. Vanse declared it suitable enough, it offered shelter and it sufficed for the moment. They’d found it last week when sneaking as close as possible to the army they trailed, who were laying siege to a nearby town.

  Vanse lay helpless till the spasm passed, then looked at Fabio with tortured eyes. “It’s Marianna. They’ve captured Marianna.”

  How long ago since they’d left the sultry heat of Venetia? A week? A month? It seemed only yesterday a servant had woken them out of a blood intoxicated stupor after the sun had cleared the horizon.

  “Master, it’s the Watch. They’re at the door.”

  Vanse could have glamoured the guards, but he’d been in the city for three years and long ago learned not to take unnecessary chances. He, Marianna and Fabio had hidden in a cellar for five slow days and nights before the Watch departed. By which time Venezia was experiencing one of the high tides that flooded parts of the city and they were standing on broken furniture, waist deep in water, hungry and with tempers frayed. He made them drink from each other, a practice they found repulsive. Stale sour vampire blood had none of the rich freshness of blood from the living, but they endured because the desire to live was stronger than their disgust.

  He had entered Marianna’s room one night three years ago when she’d been on the point of death from fever—a common enough occurrence in summer for the citizens of a city built over water.

  She’d understood his nature from the minute she saw him. Her father was a well-known alchemist, and in a city steeped in rumors, she heard much.

  He turned her after having traveled alone for longer than he remembered. He’d learned many of the skills mankind had developed since his early days. He learned to read in more than one language. He studied mathematics, philosophy, and at one point had held the post of physician to an eastern king. But ultimately nothing provided blood in the quantities that war did. Over time he also buried the memory of the number of families he’d created. What was the point? He became attached—his humanity saw to that—but sooner or later the compulsion to seek out Tatya forced him to leave. It was never the same when, or if, he returned. He decided living alone was harsh, yet it saved him suffering the pains of separation and loss.

  But his loneliness made him vulnerable to Marianna’s beauty and to her pitiful entreaties. She became his consort as soon as she emerged successfully after her change.

  “Will we be leaving?” Fabio, their newest member, a youth left for dead after a violent robbery, had taken to the vampire life with the utter joy of someone who has breathed the scent of mortality. After taking a satisfying revenge on his attackers, he’d developed a taste for adventure unknown to the quiet studious youth of his previous life.

  Vanse had no reason for turning Fabio. He didn’t know if it was his age, his innocence or what he’d accomplish if given another chance. Would the lad make a youthful companion for Marianna? Maybe Vanse yearned for more than Marianna offered? A man always treasured sons. She had stirred memories of his first love, and Fabio woke memories of himself.

  “Yes. We must move on.” This wasn’t the first occasion he’d fled a city, and it wouldn’t be the last. For his new family, this was something they’d have to get used to if they lived long enough. Ghosting through back alleyways, slipping over walls, and leaping rooftops where necessary, anyone seeing them would have rubbed their eyes, wondering at the wraith-like figures flitting past.

  They crossed water and traveled east through farmland, woods, forested slopes, over the ridged bones of the earth, and into forests again. He trained them to use the stars for guidance and to hunt.

  Marianna complained bitterly at the lack of human blood and the conditions under which they now lived. Forever traveling, sleeping in caves if there were any, if not, on beds of dried leaves in glades deep in the forest wasn’t the life she’d expected.

  “Are you sick with some disease?” Vanse demanded one morning when she refused his order to hunt.

  Fabio stood at the cave opening, whittling birch branches for arrows. He’d taken to hunting, despite animal blood not tasting as sweet as human, and he’d discovered that drinking from freshly killed creatures such as deer was enough to stay strong.

  Vanse knew Fabio listened, noting the exchange, and seeking a weakness he might exploit. Followers competed for a master’s attention and affection, thus the antagonism and competition was normal, but the bickering between these two since he’d turned Fabio never ceased. Marianna had more access to him, another reason for friction, and had never adjusted to the addition of Fabio. She had no interest in expanding their family. Vanse alone was enough for her.

  “This isn’t what I expected.” She stood with her hands on her hips, hair wild, and face sullen.

  “Are you a spoilt child crying for lost toys?”

  “We can find food in cities. Why have you brought us to this wilderness?”

  If anyone else had spoken to him with such disrespect, he would have had them on the floor groveling with a lash of his power. A master must always show his control over subordinates, but Vanse allowed his consort more leeway. Still, she would learn. “We do not always have the luxury of living comfortably. You either learn to hunt your own food or you go without.”

  Next day she trailed behind Fabio as he went into the forest to forage. Within a week, she was bringing back more fresh game than either of the men.

  As it had been since the start, Vanse’s word was law. He demanded total obedience, and allowed no exceptions. Villages and isolated farmhouses were not to be touched. He insisted they remain in the forests and woods, living off the land and able to stay alive without depending on humans. Eventually, Fabio and Marianna discovered they enjoyed the wilderness with its freedoms. Release from hiding and dissembling was liberating, even if they resembled a band of ragtag outlaws or beggars.

  They followed Vanse, and he followed something else. One morning they woke to a bright clear dawn, lifted their heads, sniffed a familiar scent, and they knew he was tracking blood. That day heavy acrid smoke drifting on the wind from thousands of campfires told them they were near their destination.

  But even Vanse blanched at what they found.

  Where recently people had lived, piles of rubble extended in every direction, creating a landscape of devastation. Not one complete building remained standing. But it wasn’t the total destruction of a town that held their attention—it was the bodies. Swollen twisted heaps of decomposing, rotting, putrid flesh lay outside what had been the city’s walls.

  They were vampires, blood drinkers, and Vanse had shown them how to seek out the dying, but here, the sheer number of dead numbed their minds.

  “Humans see us as an age-old adversary, but little do they appreciate their real enemies lie within their own species. They do things to each other far worse than anything we do, and with far less reason. However, that is not our business, but we can use their insanity to our advantage.”

  They found the army. Men, the like of which they’d not seen before, fierce-eyed, tough a
nd disciplined, who traveled on small hardy horses, wearing fitted conical helmets fringed with leather strips, and scaled breastplates of lacquered leather. For weapons, they had bows, curved swords, and carried a small round shield for defense. They followed this monolith, scavenging battlefields for those not yet dispatched by the conquerors. The simple, savage tactic of allowing populations of those cities and towns that surrendered to live or wreaking wholesale slaughter on those that didn’t was brutal and pitiless but ruthlessly efficient.

  One morning Marianna didn’t return. Vanse and Fabio waited until night, when they scoured the battlefield for her. Another day passed, and another. Still no sign, and then the torture started.

  Another wave of agony and Vanse nearly passed out. Marianna was a young vampire and their connection was strong, but a barrier materialized and while he felt her suffering, he couldn’t speak with her. If he could remove the blockage, he could try and guide her.

  But whoever tortured her understood how to make their species suffer. The burning of skin at her ankles, wrists, and throat from the silver shackles was nothing compared to what came next. Two men, one alone wasn’t enough, forced her mouth wide open, almost dislocating her jaw, and poured something down her throat. Acid scorched her insides, and Vanse sighed with relief as she passed out.

  “Can we save her?” Fabio’s voice was small.

  “Maybe. Sit down and give me your hands. I want to try something.”

  Vanse had encountered other vampires on occasion, intuitively understanding the inherent principle of dominance and subjugation that motivated his species. Except for a few with strong will power, most had lost their humanity. He’d yet to meet one he admired, but he learned something new from each meeting. One demonstrated a method he used to increase his power, but before today, Vanse had never had a reason or the wish to try.

  Fabio sat opposite his master.

  Vanse grasped his wrists, pulling the youth closer. Closing his eyes, he activated his tie with the youth. Focusing on the boy’s heart, the small golden cable bonding Fabio to him glowed luminously through the swirling grayness, each link in the chain pulsing with energy that flowed from him to the boy, and then back to him. Fabio’s power shimmered bright and pure in his heart, and Vanse experienced the depth of the boy’s adoration for him. He would die, give up this existence, and do it with joy, if his master required if of him.

  A second stronger chain snaked from Vanse’s heart, disappearing into the ether connecting him to Marianna, except Marianna’s end of the bond flickered with black shards.

  First, he had to conserve his energy by reducing his own flow to Fabio. He was taken aback by how effortlessly he accomplished this act. Which was good, because although Marianna was unconscious, he feared time was short. Drawing boy’s energy along the bond as fast as he could, he was exhilarated at how this swelled and amplified his own power. Alongside the elation, came the recognition of how easy and addictive draining followers could be. He became aware of a presence. Someone watched him. Condensing the combined strength he thrust it along the connection to Marianna, stunned to hear a voice in his head.

  “You are clever and strong, but you won’t defeat me or rescue her.”

  The voice immobilized him, and even as he struggled to free himself, he saw the image of an old man, bent and crippled with age, wearing nothing but a loincloth and a necklace of skulls pointing a staff adorned with feathers and stones at him.

  And Marianna woke up screaming, her agony firing along the bond.

  Vanse, desperate to augment her failing powers and protect himself from experiencing everything done to her, shoved his power with more force along the connection and came up against a black wall of some impenetrable substance he couldn’t penetrate.

  Marianna’s link to him remained in place, but the shaman slowly squeezed the link, making it impossible for Vanse to strengthen her.

  Vanse made to withdraw. He’d lost this battle, and if he could do nothing, then better he and Fabio leave. But he couldn’t. Instead, his eyes snapped open. He was inside Marianna’s head, incapable of doing anything, but aware and experiencing everything inflicted on her, the burning stinking gag in her mouth, the chains, and manacles, each blistering scald on her flesh.

  The shriveled old man ordered Marianna dragged into a large open space. Row upon row of warriors, their peaked metal helmets refracting sunlight, and their spears angled at her, created a circle with an open area in the center. At their feet squatted more men, with arrows strung, and bows held steady. Two avenues had opened, one on each side of the circle.

  Whatever potion they’d forced her to drink had accomplished its aim. She was weak, without strength, and even if not restricted by the silver bindings, had no way to escape or outrun this enemy.

  “Be strong, my sweet.” If he couldn’t free her, he could offer solace. He wanted her to know he’d not forsaken her.’

  “She cannot hear any more.” The old shaman grasped Marianna’s chin, looking through her eyes into his. “We will kill her, and you too will die.”

  Vanse gasped, realizing that until he’d attempted to contact Marianna, the priest hadn’t known if she was alone or not. She hadn’t been able to escape, but she’d kept knowledge of his and Fabio’s existence and whereabouts hidden from her torturer. This had given them some protection, for while Marianna occupied the shaman’s attention, he’d not sent men after them. Vanse struggled to break away but found he couldn’t escape the prison of Marianna’s shattered mind.

  It had been centuries since he’d allowed feelings of affection to develop for either a human or another female vampire. Seeing his last consort burnt alive at the stake had cured him of romantic notions for a long while. Yet somehow, again, he’d indulged himself and exposed her to the ultimate risk. He wanted to hold her in his arms, feel her body move against his, and bask in her adoration. He wished he could sing the songs she’d taught him, take her to bed and care for her as he’d promised. He admired her fiery spirit and determination. He called out to her, the loss tearing at his heart.

  The old man turned away, shouted, and the ground shook as two men on horseback, each leading a team of horses, thundered along the avenues toward the circle.

  Soldiers grabbed her wrists, bound them tight with ropes, stretching her arms as they attached the other ends to the saddles of the horses on either side. They likewise secured her ankles.

  Marianna shuddered, even half-conscious, she recognized the sound of her death approaching. “Vanse?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I said I wouldn’t leave you, and I won’t.”

  “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, my love. If I could—”

  “Shh.” This time she comforted him. “You gave me three years of happiness I would never have known without you. I regret nothing. I love you.”

  “I will always love you.”

  “Tell Fabio—” She never completed the sentence, but screamed in agony as the riders kicked their mounts into action.

  Inside her mind, unable to free himself, Vanse was lifted off the ground as her limbs extended, first as far as they could go, and then beyond. He covered her mind with his own, protecting her, and absorbing the unbearable torture of flesh tearing, muscles ripping, and bones snapping out of sockets. But he couldn’t protect himself and the high pierced unending shrieks issuing from Marianna’s mouth were his, and his agony ruptured the black wall separating him from his power. In that instant, he drew deep, driving and molding as much force as he could into a weapon before the priest realized what he was doing. Without hesitation, for he had much practice in killing those he cherished, he aimed and thrust a blade of such intense power into her heart she died instantly. He fled swiftly back to his own body.

  Chapter Seventeen: Persecution

  Tatya turned the sign around. Bill had asked if she could attend a meeting this morning. With a bit of luck she’d be back by two and could op
en for the afternoon. Juggling her work as a consultant for the sheriff and getting her business off the ground was proving unexpectedly awkward, but in degrees of seriousness and value to the community, she understood her priorities. The sheriff had mentioned Vanse would be present, and despite the circumstances, she shivered with pleasure at the thought of seeing him. Sun motes glinted off the windscreen, and a warm glow spread throughout her body, bringing a broad smile to her face as she drove through the morning traffic.

  The fact she existed in a world hidden to most ordinary people no longer bothered her. Vampires, demons, vampire-demons, werewolves, and powerful shamans didn’t feature in most human lives. She watched the mothers hurrying smaller children along the sidewalk, groups of teenagers with girls giggling and boys lounging behind, shopkeepers opening shutters preparing for the day, one or two businessmen bustling along clutching briefcases. Most knew about the other species, but humans and supernaturals didn’t mix much. They didn’t go to dinner, meet for coffee or arrange playdates for their kids with those others. Unless a disaster occurred, the paranormal world didn’t impinge on their lives.

  Tatya accepted that over the past year, her life had moved from the edge of one circle to slap bang in the middle of both. But as long as Vanse was nearby, seeing as how she and the master vamp were dancing around each other at the moment, life was good.

  She knocked on Corwin’s door.

  “Come in.”

  Tatya didn’t recognize the voice or the face behind the desk when she entered the office.