The Kala Trilogy: An Urban Fantasy Box Set

by Teagan Kearney

  She showered, changed, and gave the floor a wash with lavender and sage infused water. Aunt Lil’s words when she prepared to scry echoed in her head, any sloppiness here and you don’t know what you invite in.

  Heavy clumps of cotton wool clouds, undersides bathed in scarlet from the setting sun, rode in from the south. Lights from her circle of candles were fragile cousins in comparison, but once night arrived, they’d serve their purpose.

  Binding her damp hair into a ponytail with the hairband on her wrist, Tatya smoothed the stray curls back off her forehead with an impatient hand. She sat cross-legged, and breathed deep, pushing fears and worries from her mind, focusing on one goal, saving Vanse.

  The only sounds coming from outside were the occasional cars or trucks of a few late workers, and laughter and shouts from teenagers straggling home after basketball or study group. By this time most families had eaten dinner, and the birds were quietly preening feathers as they settled for the night. Twilight, the in-between time when barriers between worlds weakened, and ghosts walked the land, descended into night.

  As Tatya went deeper into her trance, the Bandrui chant increased, but she didn’t draw on the well of power available to her. Instead she focused on the three Druid priestesses, fixing their images in her mind, and remembering the past life when they’d been gifted to her. At the time she’d not understood what their purpose was or why, and many lifetimes passed before they surfaced to complete their mission of banishing the last demon on earth.

  The first figure appeared, wavering in and out of focus, the outline blurring, indistinct, but when Tatya refused to let go, clinging tight to her memories, a second and a third form manifested. Bit by bit, the hazy mist dissipated, and she discerned the differences in their features. Dhanu, Fidelma, and Brigid had kept their word, left the chant with her, and returned when she was in need. She sagged with relief at their presence, and her hopes rose. She wasn’t alone anymore, maybe she had a chance.

  “When the moment comes, we will help. Until then, be strong. We are always with you.”

  Tatya couldn’t tell who spoke and before she summoned the courage to ask any questions, they’d disappeared.

  Bob Marley’s call to revolution broke her concentration, and she stumbled to her feet. How long had she meditated? The candles had burned down, and the moon had cleared the horizon. Tomorrow the moon would be full. The phone stopped ringing, then started again, the chirpy jingle getting on her nerves; she needed to change the ringtone. She ran down the stairs and grabbed the phone off the kitchen counter. “Yes?”

  It was Forked Lightning. “You remember how to get to Adahi’s house?’

  “Yes.” The route was engraved on her mind since she’d followed the trail that led her to Vanse this morning.

  “Drive along that track, but wait inside your truck. Don’t get out till I come and get you. Be there in half an hour.”

  “Okay.”

  “And come alone. No sheriff. Understand?”

  Her hopes shrank. Alone with werewolves bent on revenge. Did she have a choice? “Okay.”

  Bright moonlight painted the landscape in sharp silver and steel as Tatya hurtled along the deserted highway. She glanced at her watch. Ten past ten, and not a soul on the road. As if everyone except her knew to stay home when creatures of the dark came out to play or kill or whatever they did when no one was there to stop them. But were humans any better or any different? They broke laws every day, from ignoring the speed limit if they thought nobody was watching to killing each other when their emotions ran amok. However, the punishments for breaking supernatural laws were far more severe than those given to humans for equivalent crimes.

  Some creature, a wild cat or a fox dashed out into the road. Tatya swerved to avoid it, bounced onto the sandy verge, nearly rolling the car over, and flew back onto the tarmac again. She remembered Bill’s admonition, neither of us can help Vanse if we end up smeared over the highway, but she didn’t slow until she reached the turnoff into the forest. Even then she kept her foot down as the truck swayed and pitched from side to side along the uneven track, where the black boles of trees leaned over as if they’d come crashing down and block her route at any moment.

  She spotted lights through the trees and slowed as the end of the track approached. A short distance away, light spilled from a cabin’s door and windows. She made out a large crowd of moving figures. How many were there? At least fifty or more. Was this the entire pack? She had no idea the group was this size. For some reason, she’d pictured no more than a dozen or so.

  As she killed the engine, she heard the singing. She listened, hypnotized by the rhythmic thump of stamping feet, counterpointed by a chanting in a language she didn’t recognize. But the intent behind the words swept over her: vengeance. Chills shivered over her skin, and the pull of satisfaction for blood spilled ensnared her. Snapping up her shields reduced the temptation to give in to the gathering tide of emotion. She focused on the Bandrui chant to reorient herself and opened the link to Vanse. She knew he was here, close by, but still nothing. Why was he cutting her off? Did he think she’d abandon him? Didn’t he know her better?

  A figure detached itself from the crowd and walked toward her. Silhouetted against the light, Forked Lightning was easily distinguishable by his broad shoulders, slim hips, and the waist length hair.

  He yanked her door open. “Come.”

  When Tatya climbed out of the truck, the werewolves nearest to her sniffed the air. They stopped singing, and the word “vampire” ran like a whispered breeze through the pack. They twisted around and faced her, lips drawing back, snarls erupting, and skins quivering with the urge to attack.

  Forked Lightning moved, pushing her behind him, and puffed out his chest before he spoke. “Control yourselves. We are not animals swayed by our senses. This woman is under my protection. I gave my word she will not be harmed.”

  Tatya heard the command in his voice. She still didn’t know what powers he had, but after he spoke, the weres made a subtle bowing movement and opened a path for them.

  Forked Lightning gripped her arm. If he hadn’t been safeguarding her from a pack of angry weres, she’d have jerked free. As it was his tight hold was going to leave a bruise, but she didn’t protest. They moved through the opened gap, and the weres began singing softly, but by the time Forked Lightning closed the cabin door behind them, the suppressed level of anger rippling through the crowd was more than scary.

  “Your pet vampire isn’t civilized after all, is he?”

  Tatya whirled around.

  Daniel stood, hands clasped behind his back, his eyes raking her up and down. “Your relationships with Forked Lightning and Changing Sky mean nothing to those out there. How did you get mixed up with that wendigo?”

  “Thank you for letting me come.” Aunt Lil had taught her to be polite, even though she’d not managed it often when growing up. “Something is wrong here. This...” she was about to say man but caught herself. Calling Vanse a man might agitate Daniel more as werewolves had a different view of his species. “This vampire. He saved my life many times. This is an appalling mistake.”

  “There is no mistake. We caught him red-handed.” Daniel’s face softened. “Sometimes those we love betray us.’

  No. Vanse would never betray her. These weres had no notion of what he’d done for her. “May I see him? It’s possible I can find out what he was doing there. Perhaps he was out there trying to catch the killer? Did you think of that?”

  “His fangs were out and about to pierce her jugular vein. Your loyalty is admirable, but I say again, there’s no mistake. Forked Lightning, we owe Tatya for the help she gave us. Take her to him. This clears the debt.”

  “Thank you.” She practically choked on the words.

  Forked Lightning led her into a bedroom at the back of the cabin. Pulling the bed away from the wall, he kicked aside the carpet with his foot and revealed a trap door. He gave a complicated series of raps, and within seconds the
trap door lifted, pushed open from below by an older brawny man.

  Tatya’s eyes widened as she followed Forked Lightning down the ladder into a large cellar. The room was clean, but filled with the musky pungent animal smell she was beginning to associate with werewolves. Four burly weres lounged on a couch and chairs; a couple of bottles of Jack Daniels, beer cans and packs of potato chips sat on a nearby table. Just like a bunch of guys relaxing and hanging out together at the weekend. But the large screen to watch the game on was missing, and the way their muscles tensed and the contempt in their eyes as they looked at her said this was no party.

  They remained without speaking as she and Forked Lightning passed through the room. He opened a door, and she followed him along a series of carved out tunnels. She noticed there were doors set at intervals on either side. Did they lead to more tunnels? Irrespective of whoever carved out this underground labyrinth, maintenance would be ongoing. Werewolves, as with vampires and other supernaturals, had a history of persecution, and having an escape route in place would be a priority.

  “No other outsider has ever seen this. You’re not claustrophobic, are you?”

  Tatya thought of the tons of earth above her head. If the roof collapsed, she’d either be crushed to death or suffocate. Neither appealed. She heard him snort with laughter and wanted to smack him around the head. “No, I’m not.” What kind of juvenile idiot had Changing Sky put in place as the tribal shaman? Someone who cracked jokes when people’s lives were in jeopardy? “And that wasn’t funny.”

  “You’re right. That was inappropriate. I spent my childhood on the rez, and my adolescence on the streets of Chicago. I ran wild in both places, learning how to survive. Nobody taught me manners till I met Changing Sky, who introduced me to Daniel.”

  Thanks for sharing, Tatya thought, plodding behind him in the dimly lit tunnel and through another door, but it explained a lot about the face he showed the world. “You grew up not knowing you were a werewolf?”

  He snorted again. “Not till the change began. Which freaked me out, and I came running back to the rez. The rest is history.” He stopped as they came to a dead end. “Good,” he looked at her sneakers. “Glad you’re not the high heels type, because this would be a nightmare for you.” He scuffed the well-trodden earthen floor aside with his boots, revealing another trap door, secured with a heavy metal padlock. If you didn’t know it was there, you’d just assume you’d taken a wrong turn and retrace your steps.

  Forked Lightning unlocked the padlock. “Give me a hand with this. It’s heavy.”

  “That wouldn’t stop a vampire,” Tatya said.

  “No, but what’s underneath will.”

  As Tatya helped heave the trapdoor open, she saw they’d covered the underside with a layer of beaten silver. Yep, that would hinder a vampire, no matter how strong. Waves of cold dank air rose as they descended into a cave too dark to see the walls. Memories of other caves and ancient blood ceremonies flooded back. She experienced once more the golden chalice in her hands and felt again the dark warm blood sliding down her throat. The Bandrui chant, silent since the priestesses had spoken with her, boomed loud in her head.

  Forked Lightning produced a torch and located a switch on the wall. Dim light flooded the cave creating shadows on the uneven rock walls. How many years had it taken to construct this place? Or maybe the question should be - when did the weres arrive in this part of the world?

  Tatya touched the wall, desperation and death radiated from the cratered surface, and she caught images of screaming maws, torn skin, and fur, and bones breaking. She withdrew her hand and shivered, throwing up another layer of protection.

  “It’s not what you think.” Forked Lightning’s voice was low.

  “Oh, you’re a mind reader now?”

  “Being a were gives you heightened senses. Besides, your face is very expressive and you look like you stepped in a pile of crap. This place, and beyond,” he gestured to a thin crevasse in the far wall, “is where we bring feral weres to die.”

  “Oh.” Feral weres. The expression spoke for itself. If vamps went rogue, it made sense weres could turn bad too.

  “We put the welfare of the group above that of the individual, and we take care of our own. That’s how we protect ourselves and humanity.”

  Something familiar hit the back of her throat among the old dried animal blood smells; fresh vampire blood mingled with the faint scent of sandalwood. Vanse was here. She turned toward a tiny opening at the rear of the cave. “He’s in there, isn’t he?” She found the opening was wider than it looked with plenty of room to pass through sideways.

  The second cave was smaller, and the light dimmer. A silver-plated steel cage engraved with silver sigils dominated the space. She stared in horror when she saw Vanse in the center of the cage, his wrists bound with silver chains and strung from a bar high enough that his feet barely touched the ground. His head lolled forward.

  “What have you done to him?” Her heart cracked at the sight of him, helpless and unconscious. Her rage surged as she looked at the bruises and cuts covering his body, and she shook with the effort of controlling herself.

  “If you’re wondering why he’s unconscious and isn’t healing, it’s because we shot him full of vervain.”

  She wanted to cry, to scream, to release her power and blast Forked Lightning from the face of the earth. She felt it build, the familiar tingling in her arms. She shoved the hot ball of fury back into its prison.

  “What are you going to do to him?” Barely a quiver in her voice. Good girl. She’d need every ounce of calm and control she could muster if she was to get him out of here alive.

  “He’ll get his last shot of vervain in the morning. By tomorrow night he’ll be fully aware of what’s happening, and when the moon is full, we’ll have justice.”

  “Your idea of justice is execution without a trial?”

  “You want evidence. Here’s the evidence.” He dug in his jeans front pocket, pulled out his mobile, pressed buttons and thrust the phone into her hands. “Press here and watch.”

  She stared at the picture on the screen. Even though it was a three-quarters shot, the profile of his patrician nose, dark hair around the wide shoulders and tall athletic build made it clear this was Vanse. He waited, half-hidden, in the bushes in Kimimela Woods. She even recognized the spot—it was near the hospital and the place where she’d found the first dead body. Her pulse beat a little faster. She pressed play, and the video clip showed a girl, curly brown hair up in a ponytail, and enough physical similarity to Tatya to draw the killer, run toward Vanse. She held her breath as the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with stepped into the girl’s path. The voices weren’t loud enough to hear what he said to her, but her expression changed from alert and aware to blank obedience in the blink of an eye. He’d glamoured her. He bent toward her, but what happened in the next few seconds was difficult to make out as half a dozen shapes blurred out of the bushes. The final shot, before Vanse collapsed under the combined onslaught of the weres, showed him turning toward the camera—as if he knew he was being recorded.

  “Speaks for itself, doesn’t it?” Forked Lightning wasn’t angry, and he appeared to be in control of his emotions. Having captured the perpetrator, the only business left was the implementation of the sentence. “I mean we couldn’t wait for him to start drinking before we moved. In case it’s slipped your mind, I’ll remind you, human justice doesn’t apply. When the crime doesn’t involve human victims, supernaturals have the right to deal with such matters themselves. To be correct, we should hand him over to the sheriff, followed by the lengthy procedure of applying to the courts for permission to deal with him ourselves. As a consequence, there’d be endless chances for him to escape while we wait for a court’s ruling seeing as how your jails and prisons can’t contain most paranormal species. In in the end, the result would be the same. We’re just shortening the process. That video is our proof. Don’t bother to try and delete it.
We’ve plenty of copies.” He stuck his hand out for the phone.

  Tatya ignored him; she’d only been half-listening, concentrating on the clip which she was replaying for the third time. “Yes, look. See what’s going on there.”

  The face on the phone showed a remarkable similarity to Vanse, but the features were more perfect, the eyes startling sky blue and the dark hair highlighted in red-gold. Suddenly she was staring at Angelus himself, as real and terrifying as when he held her in his power.

  “This is just another move in the game, Tatiana. I have eternity to figure out how to achieve my goal. You will be mine. Hell cannot hold me for long. When I return, the greatest obstacle to achieving my goal will be eliminated.” He smiled at her, an angelic smile that denied the truth of what he was, and was gone.

  She shook off the vision. “Here, look at Vanse’s face. What do you see?”

  He leaned forward and peered at the screen, before snatching the phone out of her hands to study the clip.

  “The only thing this proves is that he’s a shapeshifter.”

  Tatya looked at Vanse’s battered body, his arms stretched, and taking his weight as he dangled unconscious. The vervain in his system prevented healing, and whenever he regained consciousness it would scorch through his veins and arteries with such agony he’d pass out again. She wondered if the request for vervain had been Angelus’s influence, some attempt at building a tolerance for just such a situation as this. Why hadn’t she noticed? The signs had been there; the darkness she’d ignored when he’d been ill, his dreams, his fears, even the psychic attack on Adahi. She just hadn’t added them up correctly. But there had to be a way out of this mess. She just needed time to figure it out. Her heart fluttered as one option after another flashed through her mind, and dropped, a meteor plummeting through black space as she realized there was no escape from the situation that didn’t result in Vanse’s death.