The Kala Trilogy: An Urban Fantasy Box Set

by Teagan Kearney

  The imp nodded in approval, and soon they were creeping along the corridor.

  Tatya nearly screamed when she spotted the troll asleep at her post.

  The creature’s head slumped sideways, and the slabs of muscle that made up her arms hung at her sides where her gray mottled skin hung in folds. Her fetid breath whistled in and out of her opened mouth and made such a racket it covered any noise they made.

  A wave of hysteria hit Tatya at the sight of the monstrous creature, and the temptation to giggle almost overcame her. She sobered as remembered how cruel this creature had been to Nepta.

  They took the same set of stairs leading up to Angelus’s palace, but this time headed downward. As they reached the next level the sounds of suffering increased.

  “Hey,” Tatya whispered. “Can’t we release them too? A bit of chaos would help to cover our escape.”

  “Great idea,” replied Nepta with a snort. “Except these prisoners are demons, and they would kill us, especially you, as soon as they saw us. They’re here because they’ve got something he wants. He’ll free them when they agree to serve and surrender their powers to him. Most give in sooner or later or they stay here till they die or he kills them.” Without waiting, Nepta was off, dashing down another flight of steps.

  Tatya followed as best she could. As they descended, the air grew chillier, and the smell of damp grew stronger. "It's getting too dark. I can't see where the steps are."

  Nepta snapped her fingers and a tiny ball of flickering yellow light appeared at her fingertips. "Better?"

  "Much." Tatya vision improved, but tentacles of ice bit at her feet and legs, and no matter how she tried, Nepta kept disappearing ahead leaving her in darkness.

  At last, Nepta grabbed Tatya's wrist, hustling her down the steps.

  "How much further?" Tatya's teeth rattled as the effects of the cold spread throughout her body as Nepta hauled her along.

  "Only a short distance. We have the rest of the night before the guard changes and they discover you're gone."

  When they reached the lowest level, a narrow pathway ran parallel to a watercourse on their right. Tatya’s stomach roiled and heaved as the awful stench filled her nostrils and she realized where Nepta had been heading—the sewers. They made their way along the rank smelling passageway, and for the first time, she was grateful for the lack of food as she had nothing to vomit.

  Guided by Nepta’s pale yellow flame, they shuffled along, taking care to stay as far as possible from the water’s edge. Abruptly the imp stopped and squatted on the floor. She brought her hand close to the ground and moved the light back and forth. "Here, grab the other end of this metal grille, and pull."

  Tatya’s body was stiff with cold, but she got down on her knees and stuck her unfeeling fingers into the grating.

  “Pull,” Nepta hissed.

  To Tatya’s surprise, the large piece of rusting metal came away with ease.

  Nepta slipped inside the gap." Quick, get in."

  Tatya followed, but her legs were painful as she hadn’t moved this much since her incarceration and she struggled to bend and maneuver herself through the gap. Once on the other side, they heaved and grunted till the grating was back in place.

  "Not much further," said Nepta as she scuttled ahead. The tunnel was too low for Tatya to stand up straight, and she hunched over, working her uncooperative legs as best as she could, her ears glued to the quick tap tap of Nepta’s feet.

  As they climbed up a set of steep stone steps, Tatya was infinitely grateful to feel the air warm as they neared ground level, though the burn in her thighs and calves screamed for a break. The stairs ended, and Nepta extinguished the light with a flick of her fingers, just as Tatya spotted a metal panel in the low ceiling.

  "Help me push this thing," the imp said, and together they shoved and heaved at the square of heavy iron till they created a gap big enough to squeeze through.

  Tatya gave Nepta a boost, and once out, the imp turned and hauled Tatya up onto the grass. They hurriedly maneuvered the covering back into place, quickly shoving earth and grass back over the exit.

  After being in the dungeon, simply standing outside, even if she was on a hellish planet, was invigorating. Tatya looked around and breathed deep, inhaling the strange burned smell of the vegetation.

  “Quick, before the guards come.”

  Her night sight, thanks to living in a dark dungeon cell, was excellent, and she padded after Nepta in the purple-hued gloom as they headed toward a denser mass of trees and bushes that lay beyond the grassed lawn.

  "Next we have a wall to get over," Nepta hissed after they’d dodged their way through a thorn covered thicket.

  “And then?" Tatya gasped, hard pressed to keep up with the slight creature who barely came up to her chest.

  "We're taking this one step at a time."

  When she spotted the wall, Tatya’s heart dropped; it was at least twenty feet high. How were they going to get over? Fly?

  "Here, it’s this one." Nepta stopped in front of a huge tree, and shimmied up the trunk, clambering from branch to branch with such speed that within a few minutes she was near the top.

  Tatya sighed, but the thought of being caught by Angelus, and what he might do to them, galvanized her into action. Despite the dim light, and branches scratching at her arms and face, being taller made the climb easier than she thought it would be. She joined Nepta where the branches spread over the wall.

  "Okay, now for the tricky part." Nepta crawled along the branch, over the wall, leaned forward and disappeared.

  Tatya heard a soft thud.

  "It's not as painful as I expected," the imp’s whisper drifted up to her. "Don't think about it, just fall forward."

  Knowing she had no choice, and every second's delay meant more opportunity for Angelus to discover their absence, she sucked in a deep breath, crept along the branch, across the wall, and threw herself forward into the darkness. Freezing air rushed past, and then she smacked into the ground, her face buried in damp moss.

  Nepta's finger plucked at her sleeve. "See, not too bad, eh? The land slopes upward, making the drop less, and I've been collecting this stuff and piling it here for a while."

  "How long have you been planning this?"

  "Since the day that monster dragged me through his portal. Come on, I swear you are the slowest creature on this world. We have to move fast. The nearer the portal we are before our escape is discovered, the better our chances."

  The warmth of the palace gardens had offered a brief respite from the cold of the dungeon and the tunnel, but outside the walls, the temperature dropped again.

  Tatya clutched the jacket across her chest as Nepta led her up the rocky slope. As they climbed, the scrub grass gave way to scree and little boulders, and the wind picked up, sucking the heat from their bodies. As they crested the summit, Nepta pulled out a cloth bag and threw a handful of what appeared to be black dust down the incline behind them

  “What’s that?”

  “It will cover our scent. Take my hand," Nepta instructed. "This patch is slippery, and it won’t help if you break one of your delicate human bones."

  "How far to the portal?"

  "Can’t you feel it?" Nepta lifted her nose and sniffed the air. "That way." She pointed over to her right. "But the route isn't exactly a straight line. Ready?"

  Tatya nodded and gripped the imp’s small leathery hand.

  The downward slope was steep, but the wind dropped as they descended. If it hadn't been for Nepta, she would have fallen and tumbled to the bottom, and been lucky if a broken bone or two were the only injuries she got. As it was, Nepta twice lost her footing and slid, causing Tatya—bigger and heavier—to slide forward pulling the imp with her. Nepta looked slender and delicate, but she was tough and wiry, and she dug her heels into the soft shale, leaning back and jerking their rapid descent to a sudden halt. When they got to the bottom, Tatya's legs were trembling, and she was sweating with the effort despite th
e temperature.

  "Here," Nepta dug two crusts out of the depths of her bag and gave one to Tatya. "We eat as we move."

  "Thank you." On impulse, she hugged the imp.

  "Well, a human as helpless as you in this realm? Somebody has to take care of you."

  Like her recent diet, the crusts were tough. Tatya could only take teeny bites, and let the food soften in her mouth before she chewed, whereas Nepta's sharp teeth made quick work of the bread. They stumbled along, and by the time Tatya had finished the last gritty crumb, an ashen dawn was breaking, and she got her first good look at her liberator.

  In the murky dimness of the dungeon, Nepta had appeared pale, but in the daylight, Tatya noticed a grayish cast to her skin. Her features were delicate, with eyes too large for her face. Her irises were elongated and orange, and her pupils weren’t black as she had supposed, but a pinkish brown that reminded her of a Burgundy wine. Her red cupid bow mouth held a natural pout, and the wiry black curls springing up thickly around her head shone with blue highlights.

  As if she could read Tatya’s mind, Nepta struck a pose with one hand on her hip, and the other behind her head. She tilted her head back, and with a cheeky look in her eye demanded, “Well, do I pass inspection?”

  Tatya grinned. “Now if I was a young male imp looking for a good evening out, yes, you’d do fine.”

  Nepta’s expression went from cheeky to forlorn in the blink of an eye. “There was one. Angelus killed him.”

  Tatya said nothing—I’m sorry seemed a useless statement—but took Nepta’s hand, and squeezed it.

  As the ruddy colored sun rose higher in the sky, the heat increased. Freezing nights and sweltering days, thought Tatya but didn’t complain.

  All day they plodded up mountains, slipping and sliding down the other sides on their rear ends, and trekked along narrow valleys, always heading east. Occasionally the imp tossed a handful of the blackened dust behind them. Now and then, Nepta passed her a crust and allowed a short rest, but her face never lost its haunted expression. They both knew that if Angelus caught them, it wasn't Tatya who would pay the highest price for their escape.

  “How many more of these mountains do we have to climb?” Tatya studied the row of stark, forbidding snow-capped peaks that appeared to go on forever.

  “There are caves where we can find shelter overnight. Tomorrow we leave the mountains and cross a patch of open land. Then we’re at the portal.”

  “How big a patch?”

  “I'm not sure. I only got one quick look at a map, but we’ll find out soon.”

  They’d just reached the bottom of yet another arid valley floor when Tatya pointed to a dark opening a short distance up the opposite slope. “Look, is that a cave?”

  “I guess your eyesight is better in the day than mine. Let’s check it out.”

  “Are there any wild animals around here that might already use it?”

  “Angelus creates or controls every bit of his domain, and I doubt there’s much here that isn’t under his control, but if there are, I have a few tricks I can show you.” Nepta’s head jerked up. “Shh!”

  Tatya listened, and her blood froze as she heard the baying of dogs carried by the wind. They sounded far away, but she recognized the sound because she’d heard it once before when Angelus’s hellhounds threw themselves against Vanse’s barriers as the demon horde attacked St. Raphael’s. “He’s released the Barghest.”

  Chapter Twenty: Revenge—Part Two

  They had bound him from neck to ankle with silver chains, and though Serkan was unconscious, the way his body jerked and twisted showed the vampire’s reaction to the silver.

  Led by Forked Lightning, the weres continued along the underground passage impervious to their captive’s whimpers and shudders. Neither did they bother to shield him from the layer of beaten silver that lined the underside of a trapdoor as they dragged him down into a dank underground cave. As a switch was flicked, shadows sprang to life on the cratered walls. The place stank of old dried animal blood.

  They hauled him into a second smaller more dimly lit cave where a silver-plated steel cage engraved with silver sigils dominated the space. Within minutes, they unbound his arms and strung him by his wrists with more silver chains to a bar high enough that his toes just touched the floor. His head lolled forward.

  Forked Lightning locked the door and surveyed his prisoner.

  "What's the plan?" Kohana asked. "Stake him or fry him?"

  "He may have some of Vanse's peoples' blood left in his system, meaning frying might not work. Draining him is too painless, but it's full moon in two days. We keep him dosed with vervain, and if he doesn't feed, he'll be weak but desperate. Such prey will make for a good hunt."

  Serkan raised his head and opened his eyes a slit. His expression alternated between shock and fear. Fear won. "What do you want? My people will pay however much you ask."

  "To start with, there's no ransom you can pay that can buy your freedom. You have precious little time left, but use it to reflect on how and why you came to this place, and to contemplate your death. Believe me, your days are numbered, and you will die for killing my wife and child." Forked Lightning's voice betrayed none of his feelings. "Shoot him."

  Kohana pulled out the small dart gun tucked into his belt, pointed it at Serkan's chest and fired.

  The vampire master convulsed and screamed as the vervain flooded his bloodstream.

  The weres switched out the light and retraced their steps through the subterranean passage. Serkan's shrieks and cries soon faded.

  Forked Lightning stood on the porch and stared at the full moon as it rose above the trees, illuminating the slow dancing of the assembled werewolf pack below. He wore his hair loose, and the symbols painted in red on his bare chest swirled and shifted over his skin. Daniel, Kohana, and half a dozen burly muscular weres stood behind him. The drums pounded, and the air was thick with the ferociousness of the coming change as skin rippled, fur rose in strips on backs, arms and legs, then subsided, muscles trembled and bones quivered in preparation as the hour of metamorphosis grew closer. The drumbeat quickened, and at Forked Lightning's signal, the door to the cabin opened.

  As two weres dragged Serkan forward, the mass of shapeshifters turned as one toward the cabin. The sight of their captive, held in place by two long poles attached to a heavy collar locked tight around his neck and bound from head to foot with his arms manacled behind his back, sent them into a frenzy. They howled and bayed for revenge on behalf of their alpha, and they burned with lust at the thought of his retribution as if it were their own.

  Forked Lightning held up his hand, and the drums ceased their blood-stirring beat. "The Spirits Above have granted my wish, and tonight this vampire will pay for his crime against my wife and unborn child."

  Feet hammered the earth, closed fists rose into the air, and howls and cheers ascended into the night. Although Leyla had been human, their alpha was powerful, and none doubted his child would have been a shapeshifter and followed in his footsteps.

  Forked Lightning waited till the crowd quietened before he spoke. "Together we will hunt this pathetic excuse of a master vampire, but the kill is mine." He turned to Serkan. "Do you have any last words?"

  Serkan seemed all too aware of the rising bloodlust, and the transformation about to trigger in the rapacious weres. "I was only obeying orders," he rasped, his vocal chords butchered by the venomous effects of vervain and silver on his throat.

  "Open a path," Forked Lightning ordered, ignoring the prisoner’s excuse, and the pack separated into two halves leaving a clear corridor down the center. "Don't worry," he told Serkan contemptuously, as he watched the vamp eye the gap and assess his chances of making it as far as the trees. "They won't touch you. I'm the only one you need to fear."

  "Fear? Of an animal? Of a mutt like you?"

  Forked Lightning's answer was drowned out as the moon reached its apex, and the werewolves shifted. Chaos erupted as bones lengthened, jaws
and teeth extended, gleaming pelts emerged, and howls rose to the sky as they embraced their animal aspect, exulting in a nature so ferocious few species would challenge them during their change.

  Forked Lightning, Kohana, and Daniel held back the change. The wolves nearby paused, low growls coming from their opened mouths, their muscles bunched ready to leap, and their gleaming yellow eyes fixed on the vampire.

  "Let him go." Forked Lighting ordered.

  Kohana and Daniel twisted the poles, releasing the collar. Serkan lost his balance and toppled sideways.

  The werewolves bayed again. Some fled into the forest. One wolf, inches from where Serkan lay, bared its teeth and saliva dripped from its mouth, but, whether in his human or wolf aspect, he obeyed the law governing this kill.

  Daniel unlocked the padlock holding the chains in place, and as Serkan struggled to his knees, the heavy fetters slid off him and pooled around his ankles. He stood handcuffed, and wobbled for a second before stepping free. His eyes roved between his avenue of escape and Forked Lightning.

  "I'm supposed to run with my hands behind my back?" he challenged. "Not what I would call fair, but then I suppose you need the advantage."

  "Even if you could fly, you won't escape me." Forked Lightning nodded to Daniel, who unlocked the final restraint.

  Serkan massaged his wrists, looked at Forked Lightning one more time, then moving with surprising speed, he blurred and was gone.

  "After him!" screamed Forked Lightning, and a sea of beasts flowed through the trees in pursuit. He leaped off the porch, his thick black and tan pelt erupting as he morphed into his wolf form. With Daniel and Kohana close behind, he hurtled after the others into the woods.

  Serkan ran, but he hadn’t fed in days, and the vervain weakened him beyond what he thought was possible in a couple of days. If he pushed himself now, he would use his reserves, and have nothing left to fight with when they cornered him. He understood this hunt was a farce. They wanted to get his hopes up because destroying them gave greater pleasure. But he had a few tricks up his sleeve—he’d not survived three hundred years and become a master with his own family without learning a few tricks. If he could snatch a rabbit or something small and drink while on the run, that would give him a little strength, but as he sought for signs of life, he realized the wolves had scared everything that breathed into hiding. He stopped to listen. The howls were closer, and branches broke as he heard the rapid panting of his hunters crashing through the woods. They weren’t far behind.