The Kala Trilogy: An Urban Fantasy Box Set

by Teagan Kearney

  “I doubt you’ll be fine for a while, but you’ve got people here, in and around this town, who care for you, Tatya. Let us help.”

  “Sure.”

  “Remember you’re invited tomorrow for dinner. Winona will turn up at your door and drag you over to ours if you try to make any excuse.”

  Tatya swallowed. She wanted to tell Bill how much his support meant to her, but the connection between her brain and her tongue had short-circuited. She had to get inside before she had a total meltdown. “Thanks, Bill.”

  She made it into the kitchen before collapsing on the couch. But the tears wouldn’t come, she’d walled her feelings off too well, and she felt nothing. No fear, no guilt, no remorse, no joy. Nothing but a dead space, despite the steady beat of a living heart. When she thrust the knife into Vanse, the bond had died along with her will to live. She supposed this would become normal... this deadened way of existing. She’d forgotten the reality of life before Angelus and Vanse appeared, forcing her to change. But she’d get used to it. She had to remember she’d lived without the connection for most of her life. In time, someone might come along. Maybe she’d fall in love, have children and live happily ever after. She barely made it to the sink before being violently sick.

  When the shudders subsided, she dragged herself upstairs, leaned against the doorway, staring at the candle stubs and scattered crystals from yesterday’s scrying. Her one hope was that Vanse remained alive, and over time his body would eject the killing blade, and restore him to life. She’d try to connect with him for the final time. The faintest trace would offer something to cling to, something other than despair.

  Both Aunt Lil and Changing Sky had forever impressed on her the importance of cleanliness when entering the astral plane, and she didn’t want to have some minor entity moving in and setting up home. She set to work clearing away her paraphernalia, washing the floor with lavender water, before cleansing and smudging the room with sage and cedar. But she was detached, removed as if watching someone else perform these actions.

  Afterward, she stood in the shower, letting the hot water ease the tiredness in her bones, though her brain remained locked in a fug of unknowing. Wearing clean clothes, she laid out fresh crystals and sat in the center of the room, now bright with sunshine. She tried to concentrate but her thoughts jumped around, and wouldn’t settle. How long could the crystal prison hold Angelus? Without Vanse, was he able to revive or use the link he’d once had with her? They may have sent Angelus back to Hell again, but with Vanse removed from the picture, he’d delivered a fatal blow, and won another battle. She doubted the war was finished. How much protection from him had Vanse provided? The memory of him as he lay trussed in silver chains underneath her on the marble altar, his eyes desperate as he urged her to kill him, hovered at the edge of her consciousness.

  The Bandrui chant murmured, a faint trickle in the background of her mind. Was that a good sign or not? Otakay was silent, Changing Sky was in the spirit realm, and Vanse in limbo. She reached out searching for him. Nothing. The place his living presence had filled was a void. She didn’t know how she would eat, how she would sleep, how she would survive without him. A sob caught in her throat as for the briefest of seconds she caught a hint of sandalwood. His scent. Fabio’s final words echoed in her mind; I believe he will return, Tatya, because I believe in miracles.

  THE END

  BOOK THREE

  DEMON’S NEMESIS

  Prologue

  The following is a timeline of recent developments between the human race and various paranormal species.

  1920: After World War I, the help received from the vampire, werewolf, and fae nations was acknowledged by the world governments in The Revelation Treaty, signed in Basel, Switzerland on the 21st of December, 1920. The agreement between human and paranormal races ended centuries of suspicion and hostility. Most humans had been aware of supernaturals, and the pact didn't shake the world, nor did it—as some had feared—rend the veil between the visible and invisible worlds in such a way as to allow the banished demon race to return. The understanding was that as long as none of the newly recognized species contravened the Treaty on a massive scale, life would continue on its designated path, with humans remaining dominant.

  The Treaty was broken many times in the decades following the emergence of paranormals into the public arena, but eventually, all species figured out how to co-exist.

  1945: At the end of WWII, the Medal of Honor was awarded to two supernaturals (a vampire and a werewolf respectively) for their outstanding contributions above and beyond the call of duty during the war.

  All species benefited from industrial and technological progress, despite the resentment and protests by humans that, as they had made these discoveries, paranormal access should be restricted. It was a limitation impossible to put into practice, given that some paranormals lived as humans part of the time as was intrinsic to their natures.

  However, the Treaty didn't change human or paranormal aggression; internal wars were still fought, and allies solicited from both humans and supernaturals. Each species had their own method of governance and policing, and as long as each species stayed within the parameters laid down by their own authorities, the accord stated that each would be protected from external interference.

  All species, meanwhile, funded covert units for purposes of espionage.

  1949: Professor Gordon Naysmith was awarded the Nobel Prize for Paranormal Research for his investigation into the nature of ghosts.

  1989: A law banning the practice of contacting the recently departed was approved, making the practice illegal. Paranormal groups had persistently lobbied the UN, declaring the reluctance of humans to let the dead depart was disturbing the balance of their world.

  2014: Due to a rise in demonic possessions, the Pope approved the revival of exorcism.

  Chapter One: Unwelcome News

  Angelus’s sky-blue eyes stared up at her through the crystal walls. His red-gold curls writhed and spread out like snakes inside his new prison.

  Now Vanse was free of the demon’s possession, Tatya felt their bond, the glowing golden chain, spring to life, channeling his and his vampires’ powers to her. She opened herself, imbibing, assimilating every last drop, and forged herself into the fatal weapon needed to destroy the enemy.

  Hate dawned as Angelus realized every struggling movement to free himself drew the walls in tighter, till the deep clear crystal pressed against his skin, swaddling him, leaving him helpless and unable to move. A dark red mist formed, staining the transparent prism, and she saw his cruel blood-red lips move, knew he was cursing her, cursing Vanse, swearing he’d have his revenge, swearing he would soon be free again. But she heard nothing.

  Tatya raised the lustrous dagger, and its light filled the space, spreading out and beyond the globe. She brought the knife down quick, thrusting hard. The sigils blazed, and exploded blindingly bright as the blade slid through the crystal casing, and entered Vanse’s heart.

  A year ago, after Tatya stabbed Vanse in the heart, they had carried him down to his mausoleum, deep below the basement of St. Raphael’s. Then, she had been catatonic with shock, but today her emotions were under total lockdown. The click of her heels echoed in the silent corridor as she and Sheriff Bill Corwin walked behind Fabio under the subdued lighting. She made this pilgrimage every month, and familiarity helped her maintain control.

  They passed Sean’s crypt behind one of the many doors on either side, but she preferred to honor his memory in St. Raphael’s graveyard, where she’d had a tombstone for him placed next to Aunt Lil’s. She inhaled the delicate fragrance of the roses she carried—yellow for hope, because they reminded her of summer, of happier days. She was glad to smell something fresher than the filtered air in a place where few creatures, dead or undead, willingly came.

  The twins, Fabio's personal aides, stood at the entrance to Vanse’s mausoleum, their blonde hair covered with black lace shawls, and wearing identical blac
k Chanel pantsuits with the careless elegance vampires gained after turning. They bowed their heads in reverence as she approached.

  "After you, Milady." Fabio stood aside.

  He and Corwin waited outside while Tatya entered the room.

  Inside, the shimmering rainbows cast by the large crystal chandelier relieved the stark whiteness of the walls.

  She stepped close to the polished marble plinth, placed the roses by his side, and stared at the body inside the ivory silk lined coffin. It was impossible to forget the guilt and grief that descended after she plunged the knife into his chest. But it had been the only means of expelling the demon and saving Vanse. As always, the images flowed: when she woke after the bonding filled with love and adoration for him; the link ablaze with passion before he withdrew; the mournful look in his deep, brown eyes as he recalled a past of which she had no memory; the way his lazy smile spread across his face when he teased her. She hurriedly slammed the door to the past, and her mind quietened.

  The coffin was packed with fresh sandalwood shavings, and the bowls of myrrh and frankincense placed along the sides of his body, had been refilled, and Fabio had dressed him in a new crimson robe. Vanse looked the same as last month. The same as he had for every visit she’d made in the last twelve months.

  His head rested on a white silk pillow, and his hair fell in thick black waves around his shoulders. His skin was a deep gold color, his full lips were red. No air entered his lungs, his eyes hadn't opened, nor had he moved a fraction from the moment she thrust the ensorcelled oaken dagger into his heart, yet he continued to take her breath away.

  She sought their connection. No change. The link that joined them, created when he saved her from Angelus's first attack, still existed, but she could no longer see it. Her awareness of the chain offered hope, for it meant he was, despite appearances, alive, but she longed to feel his presence in her mind. Vampires did not have auras to read, but the blade flashed as the sigils engraved along its surface responded to her presence.

  She touched the image of Lord Narasimha on the silver locket resting at her throat, and sent a prayer for Vanse’s protection. She bent over the prostrate figure, inhaled his sandalwood scent and felt his half-demon warmth as she kissed him on the forehead and lips. The urge to crawl into the coffin, curl up around him, and stay there till either she died or the spell wore out no longer troubled her.

  "To the ballroom?" Fabio asked when she came out. "The family await you."

  Tatya took a deep breath and nodded.

  "You okay, Tat?" Corwin kept his voice low as they followed Fabio up the stairs.

  "One of these days I'll have a word with him about this whole consort and making me leader business."

  "It’s been a year, and—undead or not—it's natural they want to commemorate the occasion."

  Tatya tucked a few stray curls behind her ear. Her chestnut brown mane was bound up in a tight bun. It had grown half way down her back before the growth spurt slowed, and was thicker, curlier, unrulier, and showed more red highlights than before Vanse gave her his blood. But her hair possessed a will of its own and never remained as neat as she would have liked. These days she generally wore it in a plait, but often re-did it several times a day as it wriggled out of the bands and clips she used to bind it. Putting it in a bun was taking a chance as she could end up looking as if she'd been in a wind tunnel by the end of the morning, but the style matched the outfit and the occasion.

  Fabio preceded her into the ballroom cum conference room. She hadn’t set foot in here since she and Vanse’s vampire family had gathered to mourn his death-like coma after they’d placed his body in the mausoleum. The twins halted behind her as she paused for a minute, and took encouragement from Corwin’s steady hand under her elbow. “I’m fine.”

  “I know you are, Tat. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

  As she arrived in the huge ornately decorated room the sight of the assembled vampires—maybe two hundred—simultaneously bowing before her, jolted her. It was almost as if Vanse had known something like this could happen because he left a will naming her his official consort and titular head of his family in the event of his demise or extended absence for whatever reason. Fabio was the executor and Tatya had used her position to appoint him the acting head of the family, giving him the authority necessary to take decisions, regardless of whether they were about Vanse’s many business enterprises or the daily squabbles that were an inevitable part of communal living. The arrangement had worked out fine: she’d gotten on with her life, and escaped living as the mistress of a supernatural community of the undead in the claustrophobic confines of a sub-basement lair below St. Raphael’s Hospital.

  She mounted the temporary podium and gazed out at the faces turned toward her, as everyone gave her their full attention. She cleared her throat, swallowing the sudden rush of emotion that attempted to overwhelm her emotional barrier. “Thank you for your support. This has been a trying time for all of us, and Vanse would be pleased to know you are safeguarding and developing everything he worked to achieve. My trust in Fabio and every one of you here is well placed and I'm satisfied you are continuing to obey him as you would Vanse or myself."

  Trusting wasn’t a word she thought of in relation to vamps, but that was the expression in every eye fixed on her. She understood the bond between a vampire and those he turned was that of master and servant, or in many cases, that of a slave, but Vanse was unusual in that he cemented the initial bonds by genuinely caring for his people.

  Vanse had turned Fabio in twelfth century Venice and saved him from certain death after a vicious assault and robbery. He was the oldest of Vanse’s followers and was maintaining those relationships as his master had taught him.

  “As long as I live, I shall never give up hope he may return to us, and neither should you. Thank you.” Yet as she spoke the words, a little voice inside wondered if she believed what she was saying. The chances of the spell fading before she died were small, even if she was a weird human, vampire, demon hybrid with no idea of how long she might live.

  She stepped off the podium to the muted sound of polite gloved applause and spent the next half hour nodding, smiling and shaking hands. After the first five minutes, everything blurred, yet she did her best to make the appropriate comments.

  At last, after a nudge from Corwin who had to return to work, Fabio escorted them up to the ground floor of St. Raphael’s. “Is everything ready for the opening?” he asked as they emerged into the glorious spring sunshine.

  A big smile spread across Tatya's face—although her cheek muscles ached as they’d had more of a workout in the last half hour than in the last week—and her eyes flashed bright with enthusiasm. “Am I nervous about opening an alternative health center in a small Midwest town? Sure. But whatever isn’t ready by midday tomorrow will have to wait.”

  “Do you need any help?”

  “This wouldn’t be happening without the support you’ve already given, but we’re good. Eva’s got pretty much everything at the house covered and Jimmy has the shop under control.”

  Tatya caught a flash of alarm in Fabio’s expression. “I know that look, what is it?”

  “There is a matter we need to discuss. I’ll drop by this evening.”

  “That sounds ominous. You are coming tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  The fear in his eyes vanished as Fabio smiled and for a minute there was a glimpse of the mischievous seventeen-year-old he’d been before he became a vampire. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Don’t worry, it’ll only be me and the twins. I don’t want to frighten the good people of Orleton by bringing the whole family, do I?”

  “No, that’s not a headline I want to see either.” Corwin shook Fabio’s hand. “See you next month.”

  By the time she’d bought the last item on Eva’s shopping list and pulled into her driveway, the last crimson rays of the setting sun limned the roof of the house. She stopped the truck to look, taken aback as she was
each time she returned home by the result of everything she'd poured her heart into this last year. Using her inheritance, the insurance payout, and some of the money awarded her in Vanse’s will, she had rebuilt Aunt Lil’s house. This had been the home where she’d grown up and previously built a business with her best friend—the house Angelus had burned to the ground. The old-fashioned ranch house had been replaced by a substantially larger two storied modern wood and concrete building. At the bottom of the steps leading up to the porch, stood the freshly painted sign with its gold lettering and ivy green background: Healing Herbs Alternative Health Clinic.

  Eva was in the kitchen, heating up burritos in the oven, and Jimmy sat at the large kitchen table.

  "I have plastered every wall in town with at least one poster. Every down-and-out in Orleton, their extended family, including relatives they haven’t seen for years will turn up tomorrow for your free buffet," Jimmy informed her, with a smug smile.

  Tatya plonked herself down at the large kitchen table and laughed. "Yeah, well, those are the people I want to help, because they won’t have heard of half the services we offer. Wow! These smell fantastic." She attacked the burrito Eva placed before her with gusto, dropping the hot rolled tortilla as it burned her fingers, and then waving her hand in front of her opened mouth to cool what she'd bitten off. "Everything you asked for is in the truck. Are we pretty much sorted for tomorrow?" she mumbled through her chewing. She took a long drink of sage tea, reached for another burrito, and ate more slowly. "I couldn’t have managed this without you two. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you."