“I sent Völundr.”
“Shvedskii gryazi.” Vasilli fought the urge to spit on Ladislav’s fine Persian carpet.
“Swedish filth he may be but his loyalty isn’t under question at the moment and yours is.”
“How could you say that? The Princess-”
“The Princess is dead Vasilli!” Ladislav shouted.
“We don’t know that for certain. She’s immortal.”
“Then where has she been for the past hundreds of years? We must move on Vasilli. The world has not stopped and neither shall we.” There was a knock at the door and a pale, colourless man stepped in. In his hand he held a bleeding crow.
“Völundr, thank you for coming. Is that the survivor?”
“Yes my lord, shall I change him for questioning?” Ladislav nodded and Vasilli felt hot power roll from the man. The bird in his hand struggled futilely as it began to stretch and change. Within seconds there was a pale creature shaped like a man on the floor in front of them. It clutched a bleeding fingerless hand to its chest. From its throat came a series of croaking, mewling sounds of pain.
“So this is why you let this filth contaminate our halls,” Vasilli said as he looked at the pathetic creature in front of him. “You are letting him make vorona rabov. To what end though?”
“Crow slaves make useful servants when properly controlled,” Völundr replied on Ladislav’s behalf. “And nobody looks twice at a crow flying near them. Besides they are expendable.”
“So are you,” Vasilli hissed. Ladislav ignored their bickering and approached the crow slave on the floor. He knelt down and took its head between his hands. It started to weep as Ladislav forced himself into its mind. Vasilli had suffered that kind of mind reading before and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. When he was finished blackish blood was oozing from the creatures nose, ears and eyes. It was dead.
“Clean this up for me Völundr,” Ladislav waved his hand at the corpse. “And send some more to Paris to find Anyanka.”
“As you wish.” The pale man walked over to the corpse and waved his hand over the creatures body. It dissolved into a fine white ash and within seconds two domovoi had cleaned up the rest of its remains, leaving no trace of it ever being there.
***
As Anya walked the streets of Paris with Cerise she remembered what Eikki had told her about other countries, that they had forgotten the old ways. At the time she had thought him on a rant about the state of the world and had laughed it off. She wasn’t laughing now. As she walked she felt nothing, no energy seeping up to her through the pavements, nor even a fresh breeze with the hint of something in it. A crow squawked from a street sign and Anya jumped.
“Anya, what’s wrong?” Cerise asked from behind her designer sunglasses.
“Nothing, it’s crazy but I can’t feel any power in this place at all.”
“You have spent a lengthy time in Skazki, Anya. You know magic is pulsing in everything over there.”
“I know that but even at the farm I could feel a certain energy around me. I didn’t know it was magic but if I stood still long enough I could feel a humming through the earth.”
“Right, because growing up on a farm built on the crossroads of two countries and two worlds would have nothing to do with it?” Cerise opened the door to a boutique and Anya followed her inside.
“When you put it that way I suppose it makes sense, but you sure are sarcastic when you make a point.” Cerise just smiled brightly and ignored her. In an effort to get Anya out of the house and to forget about the madness of the night before Cerise had all but kidnapped her and insisted on taking her shopping for clothes; something Anya had never actively done. Cerise’s red convertible was already packed tight with purchases but she showed no sign of slowing. Anya was terrified.
“Cerise, are you trying to kill me?” she wailed through the dressing room door hours later. She was looking at the dress Cerise had passed her; black, floaty and very low cut.
“I will kill you if you don’t start trusting my judgement,” came the threateningly reply.
“But when will the need ever arise for something like this?” Anya asked as she struggled into the dress.
“That’s not the point of this exercise.” Cerise pulled open the curtain and came in to help straighten and adjust the dress.
“I just don’t see the point of buying something I won’t wear,” Anya said as she eyed herself critically in the full-length mirror.
“I knew this cut would suit you perfectly,” Cerise said smugly, ignoring how uncomfortable Anya was. “You have great breasts, you shouldn’t hide them the way you do.”
“I admit it, it is a nice dress. But I still don’t see the point of it.” Cerise wasn’t listening to her though. She had walked out to find more clothes.
“Cerise, please I’m hungry, we have been doing this for hours.” Anya struggled out of the dress again.
“One more and you can eat,” she said and handed her a pair of jeans.
“I can’t believe you went shopping without me!” Katya said angrily as she hobbled into Anya’s room and collapsed on the bed. She had put a satin nightgown on but Anya could still see her bandages and dressings.
“I can’t believe you are walking around when you should be in bed,” Anya replied as she dumped her bags on the floor. “Is shopping meant to be this exhausting?”
“If it’s done right. Show me what you got,” Katya said eagerly.
“I told her not to buy half of it but she did anyway.”
“Money isn’t an issue with older supernaturals. Let her have her fun.”
“Please tell her I have impeccable taste,” Cerise appeared with a bottle of wine and some glasses. She had changed into a new strapless aubergine satin dress that she had just bought. It showed off her curves in all the right ways and set off her red hair.
“You sure do,” Katya said. “I want this red leather jacket.”
“Well I do owe you one because I had to cut your last jacket off you. Please tell me this is in Yen not Euro!” Anya exclaimed as she read some of the price tags.
“Will it make you feel better? No. So go try some clothes on to show the invalid,” commanded Cerise as she poured the wine and reclined on the couch expectantly.
Half an hour later Katya was on her third glass of wine. “Now Anya, I’m going to start training you tomorrow.”
“Katya, you can barely move without morphine. You are in no position to train me.”
“Look, I can get you training without having to do any myself. I can’t be stuck in that damn bed any longer. It is getting beyond ridiculous.”
“Hasn’t anyone told you not to mix alcohol with pain killers?” Izrayl was leaning against Anya’s doorframe with a mix of amusement and disapproval on his face.
“Oh look girls, it’s my baby sitter,” said Katya and lifted her glass to toast him.
“Oh look girls, it’s the hunter who likes to get the shit kicked out of her,” Izrayl mocked back. “Suit yourself.” He turned and walked out.
“Men!” grumbled Katya. Anya and Cerise exchanged a glance but weren’t game enough to comment.
***
“Women!” Izrayl found Yvan and Trajan in the library playing chess.
“Delightful creatures aren’t they,” Trajan said as he moved one of his pawns.
“Precisely why I keep away from them,” Yvan added as his knight took out Trajan’s piece.
“You were married so you have learned better than anyone that nothing kills love like marriage.” Izrayl poured himself some scotch from Trajan’s bar and sat down in a deep leather chair. The library was extremely masculine and was the perfect cure for the oestrogen party he had encountered upstairs.
“I don’t want to talk about Helena,” Yvan said darkly.
“Don’t worry, we won’t. I’ve had my fill of bitches for one night and do not feel the need to bring up another.”
“I suppose that means I shouldn’t ask how our little hu
nter is going,” Trajan smiled as he sipped brandy.
“She’s got piss and vinegar running in her veins.” Yvan and Trajan exchanged amused looks.
“What?” Izrayl looked at them completely bewildered.
“You keep talking about her like that and I’m going to think you are in love,” teased Trajan.
“Funny bastards, aren’t you?” Izrayl’s tone was venomous.
“I found it rather interesting that when Katya was being attacked, Anya went straight to you for help,” Yvan said as he moved to take out one of Trajan’s castles.
“It certainly ruined my night,” Trajan said as he frowned at the board.
“It’s not my fault the stupid gypsy went out and got herself into trouble and interrupted you and Anyanka making out.”
“Don’t get crude,” warned Yvan. Izrayl heard the protective tone in his voice and not for the first time wondered if Yvan had started to get stronger feelings for Anya before Trajan had stepped in. Not that he would ever bring it up in any circumstances.
“Let’s change the subject,” Trajan said picking up Yvan’s hostility. “By now Ladislav will know his people failed miserably. He will know Katya had help.”
“Or worse, he will learn we were the ones who saved Anya all those years ago. We’ve managed to keep under his radar until now.”
“Vasilli would have told him about Anya and her potential magical abilities. They will be extremely angry because they failed to see it all those years ago. They were going to kidnap her last time because she has shaman blood and offspring usually have some talent,” said Trajan. “As soon as they learn how much power she has they will send an army for her. She will have to be more skilled by then because we won’t be able to protect her unless we have an army of our own. I know some people who can help and Katya said she had friends.”
Izrayl grunted in disbelief. “Not many friends I imagine. Time to call in some favours regardless.”
“I know I might regret mentioning this but what about the gates on Anya’s farm?” asked Yvan. “Eikki’s protection will only work for a few months at the most. Anything near it in Skazki will sense it opening and they will be able to come into this world unchecked and unhindered. Not to mention what a permanently open gate could do to this world.”
“Could another Gatekeeper close it?” asked Izrayl.
“No, it all comes down to blood.” Yvan shook his head. “Each Gatekeeper’s blood is tied into its protection. Only Anya can do it. She is the last of that bloodline.”
“Could one of them train her?”
“No, Ilya told me each Gatekeeper has their own way to do it.” Yvan drank deep of his vodka and leant back in his chair.
“We’re screwed,” Izrayl said.
“It’s hardly her fault. Eikki should have shown her how to close the gates at least,” Trajan defended. “I am hoping Anya can find something in his journals that she brought with her.”
“What is done is done, we can’t change that, we just have to do what we can,” said Yvan, “Anya is smart; she might even be able to close them instinctively.”
“Let’s worry about that when we get to it. Right now we have got enough trouble,” Izrayl said as he poured another drink. “There’s a wild dog upstairs and she goes for the throat every time.”
***
Later that night when everyone had gone to bed, Cerise met Trajan in his garage downstairs, dressed in her scrubs with a small satchel over her shoulder.
“Are you ready?” Trajan asked as he took out his keys. “I want to get this over with quickly.”
“Of course I am ready. Relax Trajan, we will back within the hour. I told Izrayl where we are going so the world won’t stop if someone wakes and we are missing,” Cerise rolled her eyes. “Besides Yvan isn’t about to let anything happen to Anya. No matter how much you like playing human you need to feed.”
“Don’t lecture me Cerise. I know I need to feed. Let’s just go so hopefully our disappearance will go unnoticed,” he said as he climbed into the driver’s side of a black sedan.
“She knows you need to feed too Trajan so don’t think you can shield her from it. Jesus, she saw you kill Vasilli’s monster for herself. I don’t want to lecture you but do yourself a favour and be honest with her. Human women are big on honesty.”
“Because your experience with human women has been so extensive?”
“It has been a lot more extensive than your own. You should know Anya well enough by now to know she would handle honesty over you lying to try and protect her.”
“Can we please not fight about this anymore?”
“We aren’t fighting, we are discussing. What hospital?”
“The American, it’s closest.” Cerise dug around in her bag and pulled out two ID tags. She clipped one onto the breast pocket of his jacket.
“I will meet you back out here in thirty minutes,” Cerise said after they had parked. “Be a doll and send me down some freshies would you? If you need me I will be in the morgue looking gorgeous.”
Trajan watched her move off efficient and smiling; like she was meant to be there legally. Despite their hospital IDs Trajan never thought he had the acting skill to pull the deception off so successfully. He ducked into the men’s room and faded; a useful skill which shielded him from curious people and video camera’s. Sometimes he was spotted by someone attuned into the supernatural but it didn’t happen often.
Hospitals were the perfect hunting grounds for a Thanatos. They were the gateways of life and death and always could provide what he needed. At times he never even had to feed properly because that much life force residue hung in the air and he could gather it to him like a magnet. Faded and hungry Trajan stripped his human guise for his corporeal form, stretched his arms out wide and began to feed.
In the morgue Cerise had tied on a face mask and was calmly looking through the folders of the recently deceased. She didn’t like to drink from just any old corpse. Clean body, clean mind applied to supernaturals as well as humans. If she wasn’t careful and put trash in her body it had all sorts of repercussions. Sometimes she would get flashes of memory that didn’t belong to her and strange cravings. She was never affected as a full keres would be but with a free form and human guise all the rules had changed.
One man had come in after dying from a triple bypass. One look at the corpse and Cerise decided against it. The man was grossly obese and she would be able to detect the thick, sticky taste of fat in his blood. She would also crave every crap food the man had put into his body and her thighs didn’t need it.
Cerise was just inserting a very large syringe into the heart of a twelve year old girl (died two hours ago in a car crash) when two male orderlies pushed in a fresh cadaver.
“We have three more on the way down…wait who are you?” one of them asked. Cerise flashed them her ID tag.
“I am on loan from the Hôpital Saint-Vincent de Paul for the night,” she answered confidently as she pulled down her mask and smiled. “I am Cerise.” They didn’t question her further but chatted politely and left to get the other bodies. Once they had gone she quickly went back to work. She had ten minutes and she really didn’t want to be there when they came back.
***
You know you only have yourself to blame, the firebird’s voice dripped with arrogance as it rolled through Yvan’s mind. He was pacing his rooms and the firebird was berating him incessantly.
“Please shut up,” he muttered.
You know I am speaking truth.
“You know nothing.”
I am beginning to learn much about the human heart being inside of one.
“Just shut up!” Yvan shouted. Flames spurted out of his hands and he hurried to shake them out. He sat down breathing heavily once they were gone.
That is…new, the firebird didn’t sound nearly as confident. Yvan studied his hands. They were unmarred but he could still feel the tingling aftershock of the firebird’s power riding him.
“It i
s certainly something we must get control of,” Yvan said calmly as he got to his feet and walked to open a window. Cold air rushed over him and his heart beat steadied.
In the streets below were vehicles and light and so much noise despite the late hour. He didn’t think he would ever get used to it. This era was nothing like his own. Earlier that day Izrayl had shown him what a television was and it gave him such a fright he hadn’t been able to bring himself to turn it back on again. Izrayl had laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.
Yvan held up his hands and focussed on getting a small flame to burn in his palm. Out of his three brothers Yvan was the most average; Vasilli had his magic, Dimitri his brute strength and Yvan had to rely on his wits and his swiftness to out-match them. Now he had magic and wasn’t sure what to do with it or how to control it. If he could learn how to harness it he would have the means to protect Anya himself. He still was having nightmares about Vasilli’s evil thorns killing her slowly and painfully while he stood there unable to help her.
I find it interesting that you have nightmares over something that didn’t happen with the Shamanitsa but you don’t even dream of the death of your wife. I can feel that betrayal buried deep within you. The grief- Before the firebird had finished Yvan was burning. Flames licked out from his skin; he fought his anger and his panic and let them burn. Once his emotions had calmed the flames melted back into him like they were never there to begin with.
“Never speak of my wife again,” he hissed. A deep pulse rolled through him, driving the air from his lungs and setting his nerves tingling. “What the hell was that?”
It’s Anya! Quickly! Yvan stumbled to his door and ran as fast as his winded body would allow.
Chapter Twenty One- Blackberries and Bath Tubs
Anya had fallen asleep early that afternoon and didn’t wake until the sun was going down. She wandered the house and discovered Katya and Izrayl in the kitchen making borsch and bickering. Anya couldn’t help but notice the slight glow in Katya’s cheeks when she had interrupted them. They both looked like they were having fun even though they were still slow and sore from their injuries. Yvan had joined them as Katya was dishing out the food.
Cry of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 1) Page 21