“What the hell is he?” Katya whispered.
“I don’t know. I don’t even think he knows. If Vadim’s story is true about the demons being after him, we could have a bigger problem than Ladislav on our hands.”
***
Yvan had wrapped Anya up in a blanket and made her a warm cup of tea. He sat on a couch with her tucked safely under his arm but despite his best efforts, Anya still shivered. She had never been so scared in her life and Trajan and Cerise still weren’t back. Her neck ached from where the Nehemoth had grabbed her; purple black bruises were already blossoming in lacy patterns.
“It’s okay, Anya, I have you,” Yvan whispered. She put an arm around him and held onto him. Prince Yvan, still the rock that she clung to. He gently stroked the top of her head and down her hair to her shoulder in one long gentle caress.
“Whenever I think I’m coping with it all something happens and I fall apart,” Anya said. “The nightmares of the Nehemoth capturing me in Paris had only recently stopped. Now they are going to start all over again.”
“Take heart shalosť the Nehemoth is dead. Mychal killed it when none of us could. Try to relax and get some sleep,” he suggested as he continued to lightly stroke her head soothingly and she leaned into his chest, crumpling his dark blue shirt as she gripped him, incapable of letting him go. He started humming a familiar lullaby from home. He sung softly under his breath to try to soothe her trembling fear.
Bayu-bayushki-bayu,
Ne lozhisya na krayu.
Pridyot serenkiy volchok,
On ukhvatit za bochok
I utashchit vo lesok
Pod rakitovy kustok
She hummed along with him until finally the warmth and deep gentleness of his voice lulled her to sleep.
“Don’t you two look comfortable,” Silvian whispered, making Yvan’s head snap up in alarm. He had been channelling some of the firebird’s warmth into Anya and didn’t expect to get caught. It moved around on his chest to stretch its wings out along his arm to touch her.
“Don’t wake her,” he warned. Silvian smiled and sat in a chair so they could talk softly.
“You two look like ying and yang. She’s so fair and you’re so dark,” he commented. “I suppose it’s lucky that Trajan hasn’t arrived back. I don’t think he would appreciate you two like this.”
“That is his problem. He’s not here and she is frightened,” Yvan replied bluntly. He tried not to move and wake Anya even though his arm was going slightly numb.
“I’m surprised she is holding up this well. The Illumination and the Darkness haven’t hunted anyone this aggressively in years. Even Vasya Melenko has come out of hiding.”
“Who is she?”
“That is the million dollar question. Nobody knows. The Illumination have come to regard her as a myth that only the high officials know anything solid about. She is out of hiding and I know why.”
“Please don’t tell Anya about it. She has enough to deal with,” Yvan shifted his weight a little and Anya readjusted herself. She snuggled into the groove of his chest and let out a small sigh before settling once more. Yvan rearranged the blanket so it covered her completely. When he looked up, he saw Silvian watching them carefully, his hands steepled in front of him.
“What?” Yvan said. He didn’t like the smug smile that was spreading over Silvian’s face.
“It’s so obvious, Yvan, that I’m surprised I haven’t noticed it before. I must be getting old.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” Cerise appeared out of thin air smoking one of her long white cigarettes.
“Oh nothing. You look absolutely lovely,” Silvian’s eyes swept quickly over her.
“Where have you been?” Yvan asked her, keeping his voice as low as he could. She sat down next to Silvian in a quick graceful move.
“Out with Trajan,” she said, looking at Anya sleeping deeply in Yvan’s arms. “What’s happened?”
“We were attacked.”
“And then we were saved,” Silvian added. Cerise let out a low groan.
“God damn it. Trajan is going to kill me.”
Chapter Seven- Jambalaya
Fox had been staring at the computer screen for fourteen hours straight. Her eyes were bugging out of her head and she stopped counting how many coffees she had consumed. She couldn’t find Yanka and it was annoying the hell out of her.
Swearing and cursing, she trudged upstairs to find the sun shining through her windows. She sniffed her shirt experimentally and decided a shower was the first course of action.
Fox had an amazing bathroom with a massive antique claw footbath and a shower large enough to fit five people. The floor had chequered black and white tiles with a large mirror in an extravagant gold frame.
After shedding yesterday’s pyjamas, she climbed into the shower and let the hot water pulverise her. Harley liked to joke that she needed such a big showerhead so she didn’t have to run around in circles to get wet. Fox liked it, because no matter where she moved, hot water was hitting her. She massaged the huge knots out of her neck and shoulders and tried not to think about Yanka and the Illumination.
Thirty minutes later, she climbed out and towelled off. She needed to go see Harley. She really needed to get out of the house. Her grandfather clock chimed 4pm as she went to hunt some clothes.
Fox had a ridiculously large t-shirt collection. She flicked through them before selecting a Black Lagoon t-shirt, a pair of black jeans and some underwear and was almost ready to go. On the way to the door, she ran a comb through her hair, put on her boots, picked up her backpack and shut the door behind her.
Business at Legba’s Ladies was still in full force when she roared in. The smell of grease and paint reached her long before she got to the doors. AC/DC was turned up to be heard over the noise of the workshop. She spotted Harley’s back leaning over a bike, Blue Jay beside her to give her a hand. Her chopped up black singlet revealed glimpses of the eagle tattooed on her back, the scroll under it saying “Free Bird” standing out against her brown skin. Fox had teased her mercilessly about having such a red neck tattoo until she found out it had been Harley’s father’s favourite song and she had never mentioned it again.
“Here’s trouble,” Blue Jay commented when he saw her coming towards them. Blue Jay had recently turned forty and was all muscle. He was probably the only person closest to Harley other than her grandmother. Blue Jay was protective of the girls working at the shop and on more than one occasion had thrown clients out for making some sexually inappropriate comment. His curly black hair was a streaked with a little grey and his eyes were a very bright blue, attributing to him getting the name Blue Jay. He had a few light touches of grey in his beard and Fox had always thought he was pretty damn hot.
“How’s my favourite sleuth?” Harley teased as she wiped her hands on the grease rag hanging from the belt of her cut-offs.
“It’s doing my head in. I have come here because I’m ready to punch my computer.” Fox dragged up a chair and sat close to watch them work.
“Making any head way?”
“Sort of. I’m waiting on a contact to get back to me. Once I have a location, I can start combing the building records to try to get some more info on when it was built and by whom.”
“Have you been eating or sleeping?” Harley asked as she tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. She said it matter-of-factly, with no judgement. Harley liked to stress about all the people in the shop.
“Yeah, a little. I’ve gotten kind of obsessed with this though. I mean it’s Yanka for God’s sake. She is the scariest most powerful witch ever.”
“I wish you girls wouldn’t get caught up in the supernatural communities crap,” commented Blue Jay. “You know your grandmother has done her best to protect you from it.” He went over to the fridge and came back with three beers.
“I don’t get involved w
ith the Conseil but Isabelle is different, she asks, and then I do it. She isn’t one to ask for help very often,” Harley said as she took the offered beer. “When she does, I got her back, no questions.”
“I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt, honey,” Blue Jay said gently. Fox saw the big tough guy get a softness in his eyes when he looked at Harley, his weakest spot ever.
“I’m all grown up now, so I can take care of myself,” Harley defended. “Ain’t that right, Fox?”
“Oh hey, keep me out of this one,” Fox said and drank her beer.
“Yeah, because those scratches on your shoulder are taking care of yourself,” Blue Jay grunted.
“They weren’t deep,” she protested, her bottom lip sticking out childishly but it worked on him every time. Blue Jay sighed and dropped it.
“Are you doing anything tonight?” Harley asked Fox. “I was going to go have dinner with Mama Lya and she told me to bring you.”
“I don’t know, Harley, I should go back to work,” Fox hesitated.
“She is making jambalaya.”
“I’m coming,” Fox and Blue Jay said in unison.
Mama Lya was Harley’s grandmother, a matronly woman of old Creole blood who lived a few blocks away in Seventh Ward, and was a powerful practiser of Vodou. Lines in the sand had been drawn when it came to joining the New Orleans Council of Neutrals or the Conseil Neutres who at a time had begged her to become a member. She practiced but she also went to Church every Sunday without fail. She had taught Harley though didn’t find a true student. Harley had magic, learning enough lore to do protection wards, but she wouldn’t use magic when an iron will and a wrench sufficed. So far, the Conseil Neutres, Illumination and Darkness had left them in peace. Until now.
Mama Lya lived in a well maintained white and blue Queen Anne surrounded by a lush garden. There was a large oak tree in the front yard with riots of magnolias, orchids, irises and ferns. Mama Lya had the same warm coffee caramel skin as Harley. Fox had never seen her without red lipstick on and flowers in her hair. She was waiting for them on her porch when they rode in.
“I could hear you three blocks away,” Mama Lya said, her Southern accent still keeping a curl of Creole to it. Harley hugged her tightly. “And you brought me some tag-a-longs.” She eyed Blue Jay and smacked her lips, “Boy, you get more delicious every time I see you. It’s no wonder my gal keeps you round.” Fox laughed at the shy look that came over him. He bent down and kissed her cheek, “You know, if you keep flirting with me, you and I are going to have to run away together.” The old lady winked at him before she turned her black eyes on Fox, making her shift her feet nervously.
“Miss Fox, crafty looking as ever. Come on in, girl, so I can feed you. You are down to skin and bones.”
The house smelled of cooking food, flowers and varnish. The floors were highly polished cedar and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. It feared to land on any of Mama Lya’s surfaces. They filed out into her kitchen and sat around the big white kitchen table. Jambalaya was cooking on the stove, the paprika and chilli setting Fox’s nose running.
“So how about you tell me what’s bothering you, ma fille?” Mama Lya said to Fox as she stirred the cooking food with a wooden spoon. “You’re aura isn’t too happy looking. You better tell me before I take it right from your mind.” She had never tried it on Fox but Harley swore Mama could do it.
“Yanka has been found. She is still alive and the Illumination are holding her.” Mama Lya banged the spoon against the side of the cast iron pan loudly, making everyone jump. Mama muttered something under her breath Fox didn’t catch. She caught the tone though and it wasn’t friendly. She turned and looked at Harley. Something flashed between them and the room’s temperature dropped. Mama Lya had taken the information from Harley’s head instead.
“Lord help us all, there is a granddaughter. You think having two of them loose is a good thing?” Mama Lya raised an eyebrow before opening a cupboard and pulling out a bottle of rum. Without asking anyone, she pulled out four glasses and filled them.
“I think with or without our help, they will find a way to set Yanka free. Most of what we know about her is rumour set off by the Illumination. Isabelle said Anya is as powerful as Yanka and she isn’t nuts. Aside from the fact she is shacked up with a Thanatos,” Harley argued. Fox couldn’t believe that dating choice either. She had never found any evidence pertaining to Thanatos. They were a Greek myth. Stranger things had happened though. Like Yanka coming back from the dead for one.
“Have you found her yet, Fox?” Mama Lya asked as she handed her a glass of rum. Not a shot or even two fingers of rum, a whole glass. Fox was used to this though and took a drink before answering.
“I have a friend searching the military computers for any trace of it but so far we have drawn a blank. We know she is here in the United States.”
“I don’t like you girls messing with problems that don’t concern us.” The jambalaya steamed as it was scooped into bowls and passed around.
“I hear you,” Blue Jay said as he took his bowl. “I don’t want Harley involved in any of this shit.”
“You’re a good man with her best interests at heart. She gonna do what she wants though right?”
“Will you two stop talking like I’m not here?” Harley snapped. “I’m right in front of you and it’s damn rude.”
Blue Jay grinned at her and gave the back of her neck a little squeeze, “Relax, sweet, we’re only saying it ’cause we care.” Something in her demeanour softened and her anger seemed to disappear as quickly as it came.
“Yeah, well, I’m old enough to make my own decisions with who I help.”
“Eat your dinner and stop being so defensive.” Blue Jay still hadn’t moved his hand from her neck. Harley relented and started eating. The jambalaya was like a fantastic fireball of peppers, rice and chorizo. Fox had three helpings before Mama Lya stopped filling her bowl. Talk turned to other un-supernatural related things and Fox let the conversation and banter of the others wash over her.
As they were leaving, Mama Lya pulled her into a tight hug. “What you seek is in the shadows of the Brooks Mountains,” she whispered in her ear. Fox didn’t question it; she thanked the old lady for dinner and kissed her cheek. On the ride back home, Fox thought it over. It could be possible. Parts of the Alaskan wilderness were incredibly isolated.
When she got home, she made a coffee in the fancy espresso machine upstairs before wandering down to the basement. She logged into her email account and saw she had a message from her contact. All that was written was latitude and longitude co-ordinates. She clicked onto a GPS site and the Boreal forests near the base of the Brooks Mountains loaded onto the screen.
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered.
Chapter Eight- Apologies and Offers
Anya didn’t remember falling asleep the night before, but when she woke, Trajan was curled up around her, his body one long line of warmth at her back.
He must have come in late and been worried for her. He had never risked sleeping beside her before. The threat of accidentally feeding on her as they slept had scared him too much. He must have nodded off but Anya didn’t mind. She liked him close to her, feeling safe and warm in his energy space. They had come a long way from when they met months ago when he had been too afraid to touch her.
Trajan’s lips on hers pulled her out of her doze, smiling softly down on her.
“Good morning,” she yawned.
“Good afternoon.” Before she could reply his arm moved around to the low arch of her back, pulling her closer to him. He kissed her again as he rolled onto her.
“Trajan, what are you doing?” Anya asked awkwardly.
“I am…taking baby steps,” he said, his mouth twisting into a grin. Anya found herself blushing before he finished the sentence.
“I see.”
“Do you have any objection?”
“What a ridiculous question.” She brought him down to her, kissing his
face and the hot skin of his neck. His plum coloured shirt came off in moments. His strong hands were sliding up her sweater when there was a loud knock at the door.
“Anya? Are you awake?” Aramis’s voice called from the hallway. “I need to speak with you.” Trajan slid off her slowly and she groaned in frustration. She watched him walk to the door, the lean muscles in his back moving.
“Hello Aramis,” Trajan said as he opened the door and leaned against the frame.
“Trajan…is Anya awake?”
“She is now,” Anya muttered as she straightened her clothes and pushed the hair from her face. Trajan moved aside to let Aramis pass before he walked over to where Anya was standing and kissed her.
“I will find you later,” he whispered before walking out.
“If I didn’t know better I would think that Trajan was marking his territory,” Aramis remarked once they were alone.
“Or he could have been giving me a good bye kiss.”
“I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?”
“Yes, you are,” she said grumpily as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Aramis followed her movements with his heavy blue eyes.
“You aren’t seriously considering trying to have intercourse with a Thanatos, are you?” Aramis asked bluntly.
“I wasn’t only considering it. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“You jeopardising your life makes it my business,” he snapped. They stared each other down silently. Anya’s skin burned from her magic trying to break free and link with him. She dug her nails hard into the palms of her hand to stop it.
“What do want to talk to me about?”
“Your lessons. They need to start again.”
“The Twins won’t talk to me. They have barely come out of their room in the last few days.”
“They have been hurting from the way you pulled them out of the Land of Dreaming. Magic affects everyone differently, Anya. You recovering quickly does not mean that they have. They were weak from searching for you for days before you ripped their souls out. They are even weaker from staying away from their land for so long. They only came here to help you. Don’t forget that.” Anya folded her arms and tried not to look at him. She hated that he could lecture her and make her feel guilty.
Ashes of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 2) Page 8