The Kala Trilogy: An Urban Fantasy Box Set

by Teagan Kearney

  Tatya, Vanse, and Forked Lightning held their breaths and waited.

  Following the hand, a well-muscled bronzed arm eased through the glistening curtain, rapidly elongated, and captured the doppelgänger's hand. As Angelus touched the illusion, he sent a shaft of caliginous magic coursing through it, along the cloaked links, snapping them like twigs. The next second he wrenched her real body forward, merging the two Tatya's together.

  As she smashed into the doppelgänger, Tatya’s head snapped backward with a sharp crack, and she screamed.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: In Pursuit

  Vanse and Forked Lightning rushed forward, but watched with horror as Angelus, moving at many times the speed they could muster, stepped backward through the portal holding an unconscious Tatya tightly in his arms.

  "Come on," Forked Lightning raced toward the gateway, "before it disappears again."

  Vanse followed, guilt flushing through him, but he shoved it aside. Tatya was all that mattered.

  They dashed through the gate, coming to an abrupt halt as they sighted the demon a short distance away.

  Angelus stood on a gold-embossed chariot pulled by two gleaming black stallions, who snorted and pranced at being restrained. He clasped Tatya against his chest. Her head lolled to one side, her eyes remained closed and her skin was pale. "Thank you for your gift," he called. With a savage grin he lashed the horses.

  "I don't believe it," Forked Lightning's eyes were wide. "He's got horses and a chariot."

  "And judging by their speed, they aren't ordinary horses."

  Within seconds, Angelus was a dot on the horizon.

  Forked Lightning gripped Vanse’s arm, "What did he mean by gift?" he growled, his voice low with menace.

  Vanse tried to jerk his arm away, but Forked Lightning’s grip tightened. "It’s not what you’re thinking. He knows someone taught Tatya how to create that illusion—and that someone had to be me because it's a skill only demons possess. It was foolish of me to think I could trick him. No one knows how old Angelus is, but he's been wandering the earth looking for Tatya for a very long time."

  The shaman released his hold on Vanse's arm. "Sorry," he patted the vampire apologetically. “I'm also wondering why he didn't close the portal. Why did he leave it open long enough for us to step through?"

  "Maybe he wants to destroy us as badly as we want to kill him?”

  “We'd better find one of those mud pools soon." Forked Lightning pointed to a fast-moving black cloud over to their right, as the buzz of the insects grew louder.

  Vanse groaned, but they sprinted forward searching the bog for the nearest slime pits.

  After the swarm had passed, Forked Lightning reinforced their shielding.

  This time the trek to Angelus’s palace proved easier than their previous effort, as not only did their link to Tatya blaze a bright trail across the murky red-hued landscape, but the chariot wheels carved a clear path through the bog. They made good time, and as evening approached, they reached the foothills.

  “He’s taking a more direct route,” Forked Lightning commented as they squatted on a small hillock above the surrounding bog to let the mud dry. “You want to keep going?”

  “At home, I can go for several days without sleep. Here, I should manage several weeks. How red are my eyes?” Vanse asked.

  The shaman lifted his hand and shaded his eyes against the crimson light of the setting sun. “You really want to know?”

  When Vanse glared at him, he turned the vampire away from the sunset, and peered into his face. “Your pupil is completely red, and it’s bleeding—”

  “Bleeding?”

  “Not blood, but some kind of redness is spreading out from the pupil. Makes you look more demon, and less vampire.”

  “I fear my connections with you and Tatya are the only things keeping me sane and preventing my demon aspect from taking control.”

  The engorged sun dropped below the horizon, and darkness descended.

  “How’s your night vision here?”

  “I’m a werewolf, and my eyesight is fine. Yours?”

  “We’re both creatures of the night”

  Angelus’s route followed a well-worn track skirting the mountains, and they loped along, alert for any sound, or sign, of the Dullahans or Barghests or any other ghastly beast or monster Angelus, might decide to send after them. They took no breaks, slowing to a walk when they needed to rest until a dull reddish glow limned the turrets and towers of Angelus’s palace.

  “We need to get inside before daylight,” Vanse stopped, his brow creased with worry. "Can you sense Tatya? My link gets weaker and then stronger again."

  Forked Lightning sought his connection. "You're right. Mine is the same. She must be conscious again and fighting him. But if he couldn't work his tricks on her when she didn't have her memory, he won't succeed now.”

  This close, they could see the glow of defensive magic surrounding the palace.

  “He’s used a lot of sorcery in strengthening his defenses, more than you would expect because he has few challenges out here.” Vanse spoke with scorn, “but it means he is stronger inside those walls. I have the feeling he’s watching our every move.”

  “Great,” muttered Forked Lightning. “What’s the plan?”

  "We locate the exit Tat and her imp friend took when they escaped. We have to hope he’s not expecting us to use it. Unless you have an alternative plan?"

  “Nope. Yours sounds good.” He held up a hand, and they listened to the tramping of feet, and clank of armor.

  They made a dash and threw themselves flat on the ground next to the wall.

  A patrol marched past on the inside of the wall, and they lay motionless, holding their breath, untill the tramping feet faded into the distance.

  “Let’s find that tree Tat used.” Forked Lightning murmured, and they crept around the perimeter, halting at any indication of the patrol guards returning, and waiting for a good five minutes after they passed, before continuing their search. By the time they’d located the tree—it was the only one whose branches drooped over the wall—they’d almost completed a circuit. They also knew how long they had to climb up and over the wall, and uncover the hidden trapdoor before the next patrol appeared.

  Getting into the palace grounds was the easy part, but as they hunkered at the base of the tree, squinting across the expanse of smooth lawn, finding the secret entrance was more of a challenge.

  "My bond to Tatya's gone dead. Can you—"

  "Shh! I'm searching for their trail," Forked Lightning whispered.

  After a minute or two, Forked Lighting edged out into the open, and Vanse followed. They hadn't gone far when the shaman dropped to his knees, pulled out his knife and began poking the lawn. He kept jabbing the tip into the soil until he heard a dull sound. "This is it." Using his hands, Forked Lightning scraped the earth and grass aside, and together they levered the trapdoor up, dropping inside as a distant vibration disturbed the earth, warning of the patrol’s return. "We won’t have long before they spot the mess we’ve left on their precious lawn,” he said, “come on, let’s move it.”

  Hurrying as fast as possible, and driven by an increasing sense of urgency at the thought of Tatya at Angelus’s mercy, they retraced her escape route. Squeezing their much larger bodies through the small opening after removing the metal grille near the floor, was painful and time-consuming. They jogged along the passageway on the other side, trying not to breathe in the noxious fumes from the evil-smelling watercourse.

  “This is far too easy,” Vanse murmured, staring at the set of wide steps at the end of the tunnel.”

  “My hope is that he’s happy to have Tat, and he’s not looking elsewhere.” Forked Lighting said, “and with luck, our shielding is doing its job.”

  “I beg to disagree. I think he knows we’re here. If we’re captured, he’ll blackmail her by threatening to murder us unless she surrenders.”

  “Then we’d better not get caught, eh?”
>
  They quickened their pace up the stairs.

  “Demons aren’t our concern,” Vanse said, as they heard the tormented cries of the prisoners. There was nothing to be done for them—there was nothing they wanted to do for them. The staircase narrowed, and the steps became steeper till they arrived at a black iron door.

  Vanse put his finger to his lips, his ear to the door, and listened. After a minute, he shook his head and mouthed ‘nothing’, before twisting the immense doorknob. Putting his eye to the crack, he studied what he could see of the hallway, before beckoning Forked Lightning. One behind the other, they crept into Angelus’s palace.

  Chapter Thirty: Confrontation

  When she woke, Tatya’s head throbbed with the after-effects of Angelus’s destruction of the doppelgänger. The last thing she remembered was making her double call the demon. She reached out for Vanse and Forked Lightning, but the links were faint. She hoped it was because they remained on the astral plane where they’d be safer.

  She tried to move but discovered she was blindfolded, gagged, her arms and legs bound, and restraints tied across her chest and hips. A feeling of shock and horror shivered through her as she realized she was back in Angelus’s palace. A thin silky garment slid against her skin, and she realized she’d been bathed and dressed by his slave girls. Most probably in the harem outfit that seemed to be the demon's favorite outfit for females.

  Although Angelus had restricted her body, her mind was clear. The bindings were similar to those he had used the first time she agreed to surrender to him in Orleton. Originality wasn't his strong point. She needed time—because she knew, as sure as the breath she drew, Vanse and Forked Lightning would come for her. Something moved nearby, her senses spiked, and she sensed Angelus’s presence. What was he doing? Sitting and watching her? She jerked and stiffened as his fingers trailed a line of fire up her arm.

  “No quick repartee or words of wisdom?” He laughed, and the sound of it filled the air and set her nerves on edge. “Do you remember what you told me? You said, and I quote you verbatim, my dear, ‘I’m yours.’" His hand kept moving up her shoulder till his fingers touched the place where he’d once squeezed her throat. He repeated the action, restricting the air to her lungs.

  She twisted, gasping for breath, and trying to shake off his burning grip.

  He released his hold and laughed again. “You have made me happy, Tatiana. Prepare her,” he ordered as he removed her restraints, and strode from the room.

  Soft hands pulled her from the bed and guided her across the cool marble floor to a padded seat where for the second time they combed and styled her hair, and bedecked her with bracelets, necklaces, and rings. She reached for the great pool of golden energy swirling just below the surface of her consciousness but found a solid wall separated her from her power. While she’d been unconscious, Angelus had engineered this corrupted version of Forked Lightning’s barrier.

  As the girls worked, she studied his construction. The spell wasn’t complicated, but she would have to dismantle the obstruction brick by brick. A whirlwind of thoughts wheeled around her mind. How much power did he have over her? He was acting as if he possessed total control, and for the moment, she was helpless and had to go along with whatever he planned. She began unraveling the spell holding the wall in place.

  When they judged her ready, the slave women led her out of the room. Angelus clearly thought she couldn’t escape as this time slave girls, not heavily armed guards, escorted her, not guards. The memory of her first trip through the long corridors resurfaced. Would anything be different this time? How long before she ended up in the dungeons again? And how was she going to rescue Nepta now?

  At length, her escort halted in front of the gleaming brass doors. The doors opened, and the women escorted her into the empty throne room.

  As she was led up the steps and they pressed her gently into the smaller throne next to the demon, she hoped this wasn’t going to be a replay of her previous visit. She made no effort to struggle as they bound her wrists and ankles with chains, and made no protest as the spell-bound restraints sank their needles into her skin. A heavy chain placed around her neck was secured at the back of her chair, leaving her with little space for maneuver. She removed another brick.

  A sudden rustling of movement as the guards bowed and slaves fell to their knees, broke her concentration.

  Even the air seemed heavier as Angelus entered.

  She kept her eyes down. She had no wish to see the triumph on his face.

  “You have had a terrible time, my dear." He spoke as if he cared for her suffering. He kissed her forehead.

  Her eyes watered as his lips burned her skin, and she blinked furiously to clear her vision. She felt branded and pressed herself further back into the seat to escape the intense heat he radiated.

  He gripped her chin, his red-gold curls falling around his face as he forced her to look up at him. His bright blue eyes shone with impatience. "Never mind, you will become accustomed to this state."

  She glared at him, her eyes letting him know what she felt.

  "Oh, you will change your mind soon, and I shall greatly enjoy your surrender." He released her and arranged himself on his larger more elaborate throne. "I have a special gift for you. Well, a couple of gifts actually."

  She shot a startled glance at him. Not Vanse and Forked Lightning. Please, if there was a God, grant this one request.

  He smiled, "Well, if you're sitting comfortably, we'll begin. Bring in the prisoner."

  Tatya worked feverishly at dismantling more bricks, but her concentration was erratic. He'd said, prisoner. That meant only one of them had been caught.

  The immense doors opened and two trolls dragged a heavily chained struggling prisoner the length of the hall toward them.

  Tatya stared in shock at the shackled snarling creature. Nepta.

  The imp's bleeding bruised face and body bore the marks of torture, but she was impervious to her condition, twisting and screaming at her guards as she attempted to escape their hold.

  Angelus laughed. "You imagined you had a little friend, didn't you, my dear? However, she doesn't recall who you are anymore." He stood and gripped Tatya's upper arm. The silver chains slithered off, and he pulled her with him as he walked down the steps.

  The feral imp’s agitation increased, and she fought harder.

  "This is her real nature, although, to be honest, my experiment didn't work out too well. An imp who was a vampire could have been useful, but as you can see, the trial failed. Tell me, Tatiana, what do you consider a suitable punishment for betrayal?"

  Stunned by Nepta's change, Tatya stared at her friend. How could she save Nepta now?

  "Nothing to add to the conversation, my dear? That's okay, I have the answer, and the little traitor knows what her sentence is." Angelus drew the sword at his waist, held it up, and twisted it so the blade caught the light. "Meet Merrityu, otherwise known as Death." Silver and gold runes pulsed with energy as they slithered up and down the black blade. "Is it not a fine weapon?"

  Tatya shuddered as he brought the blade close, and she sensed the heinous nature of the weapon.

  "A powerful sage made this for me, and his lifeblood fuels the blade's desire for revenge. Death, especially that of innocents, pacifies its requirements." Angelus nodded at the guards, who pushed the imp to her knees. Angelus raised the sword, the sigils seething in anticipation, and with one stroke beheaded Nepta.

  As Merrityu claimed her life, the runes writhed, changing to dark crimson.

  The guards let go, and her small headless body collapsed, falling forward and landing at Tatya's feet. Her head rolled to the side, her eyes remaining open and sightless.

  Tatya's breathing was too fast. She wanted to scream, grab Angelus’s blade and plunge it into his heart. Hatred for him boiled beneath the surface as she watched him wipe the blade clean on Nepta's torn ragged clothes.

  The runes dimmed as he sheathed the weapon. "What a shame, you
have dirtied your clothing."

  She looked down and a wave of nausea swept through her at the dark splashes of Nepta’s blood staining the hem of her dress. She swallowed, and looked away, avoiding his gaze—she refused to let him see how much he'd hurt her.

  "No matter. Soon you'll be prepared for our marriage ceremony. You understand, don’t you, that when the important question is asked, I will take your silence as acceptance?"

  His grip seared her arm, as he led her back to the throne, pushing her down and holding her in place till he touched the chains. She flinched as they slid over her arms and ankles, and saw the pleasure in his eyes as he replaced the collar, tightening it so it dug into her throat if she attempted to move. "But, first, I have one more annoying little problem to dispose of." He nodded at the guards who scooped Nepta's head and body into a sack, while another slave approached with a bucket of water and a cloth, and cleaned up the bloody stains.

  Tatya brooded over his words. Silence wasn't agreement. He's creating doubt and trying to make me think I have no choice. She thought of Nepta. The sweet helpful imp she knew had been dead long before Angelus took her life. Tatya added Nepta's name to the list of those who had died to save her. She would mourn her later.

  "Solving this next problem is going to give me a great deal of pleasure."

  She twisted around, ignoring the collar scraping against her skin, and looked at him with loathing. The way he smiled as he surveyed the doors, made her stomach lurch, and she caught her breath as a troupe of demon guards with two prisoners in the center, entered the hall. Her heart beat faster. No, no, no. How had she not felt the link and known they were here?

  An armed escort marched Vanse and Forked Lightning, through the hall, and halted at the foot of the throne. The pair were chained and manacled, and it was clear by the bruises on their faces that they’d been beaten.

  For a second there only the drum of her heart, drowning out everything else. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How brainless had she been to think she could win against Angelus in his own domain? Vanse would die, and Angelus would make her watch him suffer. Hadn’t he promised that once? And Forked Lightning had given everything to help her. These two would die because of her, and she understood the primary reason for the bindings. He hadn’t wanted her to use her power, but even more crucial, he hadn’t wanted her to know Vanse and Forked Lightning were here. If she had known, she would have had hope. His intention all along had been to blindside and demoralize her by dragging them here as his prisoners.