“Trajan, who am I to judge? Look what I have done.” She pushed his glasses to the top of his dark head and held his face. “I couldn’t possibly imagine what you have been through but I believe you are angrier at having to face your nature and past like that, than what I would think of you. I would have done the same thing. I left him to burn alive slowly. I have no sympathy for his fate and neither should you.” Anya studied the darker strains of red in his eyes; the human visage he inhabited with such ease couldn’t hide who he was entirely. The red had worried her a little to begin with but now she loved it because it helped her to partly understand the riddle that was Trajan. He was looking at her so completely, so deeply that she struggled to hold his gaze.
“For one so young you know and have seen so much,” he whispered sadly. “You have lived, you have suffered. It completely enamours me. You have stood on the edge and looked into the dark abyss but you fully accept that you will always be on that edge now. Being close to a creature like me will only make it worse. You will always be living with death.”
He was so earnest that Anya couldn’t help but lean forward, run her hands through his thick hair and kiss him softly. His eyes widened in surprise before he pulled her down onto the floor with him, kissing her face over and over.
“I thought you were dead when I saw you hanging from that wall,” he whispered against her hair. “I was so frightened that I was too late.”
“Don’t talk of it,” Anya said as she looked at his face above her. Again she marvelled at how the firelight warmed him into luxurious detail. If he was a normal man lying with her on the carpet in front of the fire she would have presumed sex was inevitable. But Trajan was not a normal man. The thrill was there though as she reached up to stroke his temple where the fine lines under his eyes crinkled.
“Even after days of captivity you are still so lovely.”
“You are a very good liar,” Anya teased. She had seen her bruised face in the mirror earlier. “I think Völundr’s games with you must have given you brain damage.”
“I don’t have brain damage. I can see you for what you are. You glow in my mind like a supernova,” he stroked her damaged face lightly. “The bruises on your skin do not diminish it even a little.”
“You really know how to make a girl blush.”
“Not all girls, just you. And it doesn’t take much to make you blush I must admit.” He grabbed some thick white pillows from the couch and propped them under her before covering her with a caramel-coloured cashmere blanket. She felt like a little girl being taken care of but in a good way. She liked that he thought of her comfort. She pulled him close again and ran her hands under the dark blue waist coat he wore.
“I promise not to wake screaming in your face if you sleep next to me tonight.”
“Screaming or not I am not planning on letting you out of my sight for a long time.”
“That’s going to be interesting,” she couldn’t help but comment.
“I am pleased you said ‘interesting’ and not ‘intolerable’.”
“Well you smell ridiculously good and your company isn’t so bad either.”
“Thank you, I think,” he laughed. She didn’t add that if her self control wasn’t so good she would be rubbing against him like an affectionate cat. They talked and bantered quietly for a while until finally Anya gave into her exhaustion and slept.
And she dreamt; although it didn’t feel dream-shaped to her. Vasilli was standing next to a robust older man with grey silvery hair hanging to his waist. She realised that they couldn’t see her. She could see in the distance the black scorch mark of what remained of her barn and small house.
“Have you heard from him yet?” Vasilli demanded irritably.
“No but the Nehemoth has been released.”
“You should have let me go, Ladislav. I know my brother and Anya and their tricks. That piece of der’mo Völundr cannot be trusted.”
“None of us are to be trusted. He’s loyal though, and his loyalty is to me. You are loyal because you have no other choice.” Vasilli’s large fists clenched at his sides.
“I am loyal.”
“The only thing you are loyal to is the dead princess. Move on Vasilli.”
“Once Anyanka is caught many things will change. She will come into her birthright quickly, if she doesn’t fight us too much, and then you will have to watch your back. If she is anything like Yanka she will surpass you within a year.”
“I am not concerned about Anya or her talents. I am concerned about this,” Ladislav held out his hand and the invisible wall in front of him shimmered red for a moment. “It’s weakening. Within a month it will open and if we can stop anyone interfering it will stay open permanently; we will control it. Skazki will flow into Russia and the Darkness will claim it completely, bringing a new age of belief and worship.” His voice was hungry and determined. They were silent for a long while contemplating before Ladislav shook himself. “Let’s go Vasilli. I feel too exposed here.”
“It’s the ghosts watching us,” Vasilli said taking obvious enjoyment in Ladislav’s discomfort. Ladislav grunted before heading back into the forest, Vasilli following him obediently.
Anya expected to wake up at that moment but she didn’t. Snow was falling and she shivered impulsively even though she couldn’t feel the cold. She turned back to inspect the charred ruins of the house and screamed awkwardly when she saw they were whole once more. Was this a dream? Why couldn’t Vasilli and Ladislav see her? Why was her house suddenly rebuilt and who the hell was walking towards her?
A tall man walked across the field in front of her. His long golden hair was tied back and his green eyes shone with anger when he saw the creatures that had appearing on the side of the invisible wall Ladislav had just inspected. Anya hurried backwards to get away from the nightmarish creatures that were trying to break into the real world.
He looked straight through Anya but she knew who he was; Ilya. She had seen a picture of him in a locket she had left behind. Power flowed out of him so strongly she could feel the currents streaming through the air. He stopped beside her and she wanted to reach out and touch him. Now that he was closer she could see his high cheek bones and the golden stubble on his face. He looked like a lost Viking God.
“You will not enter this world,” he said, his steady voice carrying over the noise. “I am the Keeper of the Gates and you will not pass.” There was a terrible screeching sound as a deranged horned beast burst through. Its face was faintly humanoid but covered in fur and was sleek with sweat, its long horns smeared with blood. Anya cried out as it charged at Ilya like a berserker. Ilya lifted his hand slowly; as he did his attacker lifted off the ground. He made a simple twisting motion and the creature started to choke and struggle. Ilya dropped his hand again and the body fell to the ground.
With an easy precision Ilya took a plain strong steel knife with a golden pine handle carved like a snarling bear from his belt.
With quick movements he made two shallow cuts on both of his forearms. He started to sing but Anya couldn’t make out the words. Ilya threw the bloody knife and it landed in the earth where the two worlds touched. The ground trembled underneath Anya’s feet and she watched with a mixture of awe and terror. Ilya’s left hand came down over the cut on his right arm and scooped the flowing blood into his palm. Crouching down, he drew a line in the dirt. Slowly he poured the blood that had pooled in his hand into the line. Sweat had begun to bead on his forehead as he worked. His words never stopped but try as she might Anya couldn’t make them out.
Ilya repeated the process with his opposite hand before getting once more to his feet. She could feel his exhaustion in every movement.
After scooping blood into both of his hands he flung it out into the air. As soon as the crimson drops touched the barrier the creatures straining against it were flung back with an almighty force. Most flew through the air, hitting trees and earth. The remaining turned and fled.
Ilya’s fine fea
tures had turned ashen. Taking a few strips of cloth from his pocket, he tied them around his cuts and retrieved his knife.
“Ilya…” Anya couldn’t help but whisper. He stopped suddenly and looked around as if he had heard her. She reached out and as soon as she touched him she woke with a hard jerk.
Trajan was asleep beside her and the fire had burned low. There was a tap at the door and Anya got to her feet and padded silently over the carpet to answer it. Chayton and Honaw stood outside in their boxer shorts. Chayton was wearing a singlet but Honaw was bare-chested. He had a tattoo of a bear on his abdomen that Anya found instantly distracting.
“What did you just do Anyanka? You set off our magical guards,” Chayton asked sleepily.
“I was dreaming again. I think… I think Ladislav and Vasilli have been to the farm.”
“You dream walked there and saw them?” Honaw asked and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.
“I don’t know. Maybe. They were testing the gate. They couldn’t see me,” she pushed her hair out of her face.
“You are tied to the gate so it makes sense. Just so long as you are safe then it’s okay. We thought the Nehemoth was back,” Chayton said. “Go back to sleep Anya. Try not to dream.”
“We will talk about this in the morning,” Honaw said ominously before giving her an unexpected hug. They headed back to their rooms and Anya closed the door. She tried not to wake Trajan as she snuggled back into his arms and watch the glow of the coals die.
Chapter Twenty- Seven - Treaties
Isabelle was down on the floor doing yoga stretches to try to clear her mind and relax her muscles. She was edgy about being so caught up in the plots of the Darkness. It wouldn’t take their counterpart, the Illumination, long to get involved either. All of her instincts told her to run, that this wasn’t her fight.
As soon as they had retrieved Anya and Trajan she had emailed a contact in New Orleans to see if she had any information on the Nehemoth. If anyone could find anything about them, it was Harley and her friend Fox. Isabelle had been checking her email every hour and still had nothing.
Isabelle glanced through the thick curtains, worried that the Darkness would try to engage in a full military assault to get at Anya. A golden flicker in the garden caught her eye. A huge golden dingo prowled through the plants. Hamish was out checking the borders.
Isabelle grabbed one of her guns, hurried out of the room and through the back kitchen door. The smell of ice and diesel hung heavily in the night air.
Hamish was moving steadily along the fence line and coming towards her. She wanted to avoid him while she checked around the other side of the building but she couldn’t hide from his nose.
Hamish sat down in front of her, a droopy, doggy smile on his face. She pointed her gun at him as he started sniffing at her pyjama pants. Before she could suspect him, he lifted his leg, peed and trotted off.
Isabelle stood horrified for a few moments before biting back a scream and turning slowly back towards the house. Hamish had clearly not forgiven her just yet. Cursing and muttering she stood on the back step and peeled off her soiled clothes. Oh yes, Mr Hudson had declared war. She promised retribution as she bent down to pick up her ruined pyjamas.
“You’ve put on some weight since I last saw you from this angle.” Hamish was buttoning a pair of jeans, his head tilted to one side as he inspected her.
Isabelle bundled her clothes and threw them at him. They hit him in the chest with a satisfying splat.
“Go screw yourself, Hamish,” she said bitterly. His eyes still looked a little feral after the change and her trigger finger twitched. She took a step backwards and opened the door to the kitchen.
“Isabelle—”
He had that soft confused tone which was so rare to him. It brought up too many memories. She wasn’t going to let that work on her. He hadn’t even attempted to talk to her since the night Anya was taken. Isabelle whipped around angrily. “What? You want to make another jibe about my weight?”
Hamish hesitated a moment before asking. “Do people still say jibe?”
“If that’s all you have to say to me after all these years you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.” His expression darkened as he advanced on her. She stuck out her chin and held her ground defiantly, still only in her underwear but did her best to face up to him all the same.
“I wasn’t the one who pissed off in the middle of the night. You left me, Belle, you remember? I tried hunting you down and when I finally did it was after the whole place had been blown to bits.” He was looming over her.
“I left to protect you, moron. I had my enemies closing in on me. Do you think I could sit back and watch them murder you to get back at me?”
“I didn’t need protecting,” Hamish said stubbornly. “Even if you would have said goodbye and ended it properly it would have been different. You weren’t some random chick I picked up at the pub. And you know it so don’t pretend otherwise.”
“By the time the heat was off me too much time had passed. I wouldn’t risk it again. It’s not that I didn’t want to find you but a lot changed and I didn’t need the rep of being a hunter who had sex with her targets instead of killing them.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Belle. You have never given a crap what other hunters thought of you so what changed?” Isabelle pulled her long hair down over her neck to hide the scar. She wasn’t about to tell anyone about that.
God had a cruel sense of humour to let their paths cross again. Hamish offered her the white tee shirt he held.
“Thank you,” she mumbled and slipped it over her head. It came down to her knees. “I’m going back to bed. I will tell you some other night when I am up to it. Tonight I am not and you are just going to have to accept that. For what its worth I thought I was doing the right thing when I left you.” She turned and began to walk away from him.
“Hey Belle.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. He was looking very nervous as he stammered, “About the weight comment; it looks good on you. I didn’t mean that you were…you know…fat.”
“Thanks for clarifying. I will sleep better tonight,” she said sarcastically.
“You don’t have to be a bitch about it,” he said as he walked up behind her. “I would like us to be civil to each other even if it’s just for Trajan’s sake.”
They had started moving up the stairs and Hamish’s hand brushed hers where it rested on the banister. She pulled her hand away quickly.
“Yeah whatever. Goodnight Belle.” He pushed past her, leaving her standing there cursing the day she had walked through Trajan’s door.
***
Anya woke with the dawn. She had only managed to sleep for a few hours. Trajan was snoring softly and she kissed his head before getting up and making her way to the kitchen. In this house days were for sleeping and nights were for living but she had a farm girl body clock. The rich heady smell of brewing coffee filled the air as she neared the kitchen doors. She pushed her way through to find Yvan standing in the kitchen in his long pyjama bottoms and an open night robe. He was arguing in Russian with the firebird which was twitching along the grooves of his chest.
“Do you have enough for two?” she interrupted. She had been trying to get Yvan speaking more English but when they were together they always fell back into Russian eventually. Yvan looked up and smiled, his eyes flashing golden for a moment. “Morning to you too.” She poked the firebird’s crest.
“I am surprised to see you awake so early. I thought you would be exhausted.” Yvan poured her a cup and she sat down at the bench to drink it.
“I am exhausted, I just can’t sleep.”
“Bad dreams?” He looked expectantly at her. “Don’t look so surprised the firebird was in a fit last night.”
“I can’t seem to hide anything in this house,” she muttered as Yvan took the seat beside her.
“Not from me you can’t. Just tell me so I can stop worrying so much about you.”
“I don’t kno
w if I should. It will probably make you worry more.” He rubbed her back gently. “Let it out Anya; it’s like rats in your brain.” She caved and told him about Ladislav, Vasilli, Ilya and the gates and finally the Twins turning up at her door to check on her.
“A month,” Yvan said softly. “That’s all we have until the gates open.”
“According to Ladislav. We could have less than that even.” They sat quietly for a few moments contemplating.
“Chayton and Honaw said you’re tied to the gate so if they are going to open you will be the first to know. That’s an unforeseen advantage.”
“Still doesn’t mean I can close them on time.”
“You saw Ilya do it. It may be a different ritual for you but you will know what to do. I am sure of it.” Yvan squeezed her hand. “Have you told Trajan yet?”
“Not yet. I wanted you to be the first.”
“Why?”
“Because I trust you the most, and you will be calm so I won’t freak out.” Anya nudged him with her shoulder and he smiled. “Besides they will know soon enough and then they will start complaining, ‘Anya we need to give you weapons training, Anya we need you to focus on your magic, Anya I need to show you the right outfit to save the world in.’” Yvan started laughing and that, more than anything, helped to ease the anxiety building in her stomach.
“Perhaps you should take the first step,” he suggested. “Go and see Isabelle. Get her to train you how to defend yourself. You know how to use a gun but if anyone could teach you how to fight in a hurry it will be her.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight- Harley
Isabelle’s laptop was beeping with a new email alert. She opened a tired gritty eye and groaned. She thought about the incident with Hamish the night before and buried her head under the pillows.
Within ten minutes her mobile roared with Harley’s ring tone, motorbike engines revving loudly. With a sigh, Isabelle crawled out of bed and flipped open her phone. Read ur email, you skank. It’s IMPORTANT. Luv H.
Cry of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 1) Page 30