Ashes of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 2)

by Kuivalainen, Amy

  “Are you saying you want to give our relationship another chance?” she pushed his shoulders back so he would look at her in the eyes.

  “Such as it is whatever it can be or however I can have you.”

  “I don’t know if my heart can take it again, Trajan,” Anya said honestly. “I need some time and I need to go pack. Aramis wants to leave before noon.”

  “Don’t go with Aramis. I don’t trust the Álfr.”

  “I have to go. Otherwise, Søren is going to kill me. And don’t say that you can protect me because you can’t. Not from him.”

  “He frightens you, doesn’t he?” Trajan brushed her neck gently. In her mind, Anya could see the tall, black haired Álfr. She could feel the brush of his power, the way it licked at hers like a great tiger lapping cream. It was gentle but it didn’t let you forget it had teeth and claws.

  “Yes.”

  “I have never seen you truly frightened of anything. Not when we were captured in Paris, not even Vasilli.”

  “This is different. I don’t know why but it is. I need to go and I will be safe. Aramis won’t let anything happen to me.” Even to her it sounded like bravado. He looked as if he would argue so Anya reached over and kissed his cheek.

  “Give me time; we will talk when I return.”

  “Make sure you do return.” He walked her to the door and kissed her hand before she headed back to her room.

  Anya opened her hotel room door as Aramis was coming out of it.

  “I was looking for you. Are you all right? You’re looking a little flushed.”

  “I had a talk with Trajan. Do I have time to go for a shower and freshen up a bit?”

  “Go on,” he said gently as he gave her a little push inside.

  “Thank you, I won’t be long,” she hurried to the bathroom.

  An hour later, Anya had bid farewell to Aleksandra, Mychal, a troubled Yvan and curious Twins.

  “You be careful,” Chayton said sternly. “Don’t let them to convince you stay with them. I don’t-”

  “We don’t know enough about them to feel good about this,” Honaw finished.

  “You two know all of this land. You will find me if I don’t come back.” They shared a look that made Anya uneasy.

  “We would definitely try to find you.”

  “Don’t worry, I will be fine. You two rest up and recharge your magic while I’m gone. I’m going to need more lessons.”

  “We are going to walk the land tonight, out at the swamps. It has been a long time since we have been this far south and it will be good to reconnect,” Chayton said as they hugged her.

  Anya received a sleepy kiss on the cheek from Cerise and she promised to blast any misbehaving Álfr. Trajan had given her a curt nod in the hallway.

  “I wish you hadn’t spoken to him. He upsets you,” Aramis had said when they had climbed into the car.

  “I don’t think that it’s any of your business,” Anya said then added, “It’s complicated.”

  “I am yet to discover a thing about you that isn’t.”

  Legba’s Ladies was a riot of noise and colour by the time Aramis and Anya arrived.

  “Here comes the Queen Bee,” observed Aramis as Harley sashayed through the chaos to reach them.

  “Hey guys,” she said warmly, “If you’re looking for the troublesome lot they are upstairs having breakfast. I’m afraid they got rather drunk last night after all the excitement.”

  “We have to leave town for a few days so we need to talk. Would you come up too?” Aramis asked politely. Harley looked over at Anya and frowned.

  “So it has become really that serious?” she directed the question at Anya.

  “I’ve pissed them off good and proper,” confirmed Anya.

  “Oh, well, not much we can do about that. Come on up.” They followed Harley through her office and up the stairs to her flat.

  Isabelle, Hamish, Fox, Izrayl and Katya all looked worse for wear as they fought over brown paper bags filled with burgers, fries and Cokes. Fox’s straight black hair stood up on one side where she had slept on it. Papers and maps covered the kitchen table so they were all sprawled out on lounge chairs and the floor.

  “It looks like a kid’s slumber party in here,” teased Harley. “Now, who has my bacon cheese burger?”

  “I hate you,” murmured Katya. “How the hell can you be hung over and so chirpy at the same time?”

  “Easy, I’m not hung over.” Katya scowled at her and went back to her fries.

  “You’re looking pretty fucking serious, Anya,” Hamish observed. “You want some Coke?” He offered her his mega cup and she took it.

  “I have been summoned to meet the Álfr in Alaska,” she said as she sat down on the couch next to Isabelle. Fox booed from the floor.

  “Alaska! That sucks,” said Izrayl, before turning sheepishly to Aramis and muttered, “No offence.”

  “None taken. I happen to share your opinion. It’s precisely why I haven’t been a part of their society for so long.”

  “They sent Søren as a messenger boy and if I don’t go, I die. The fun bit is if I go and meet them and they don’t like me, I die,” Anya said as she stole some fries from Isabelle.

  “Where does the fun part start?” Harley asked.

  “That was the fun part.”

  “How long will you be?” Katya asked.

  “A couple of days. It will be good for Aleksandra and Mychal to have the place to themselves,” Anya smiled.

  “Sure it will,” Katya said darkly and Izrayl poked her in the ribs.

  “Stop being so over protective,” he said. “You encouraged her.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “Once he is your brother in law, he can tell us how he managed to deal with that Nehemoth,” said Hamish. “That was so fucking cool.” He was eating his second burger and showed no signs of slowing.

  “Anyway, we want you all to continue organising Yanka’s rescue as best as you can and I will work on getting Anya back in one piece,” said Aramis.

  “You had better get her back in one piece,” said Fox. Anya had to smile. She barely knew Fox and yet she was now protecting her too. It was rather humbling.

  “Don’t get too comfortable sitting there, Anya,” Aramis warned as he offered his hand. Anya let out a tired sigh before taking it and letting him help her to her feet. She took one last sip of Coke before handing it back to Hamish.

  “He can’t make you go with him, Anya,” he said quietly. “Are you sure you want to?” Anya glanced around at the other faces. They were all frowning.

  “I will be fine.” She didn’t even convince herself.

  As the taxi pulled into a parking bay at the Louis Armstrong Airport, Anya’s door was opened. Søren stood on the pavement waiting for her. He wasn’t in his Álfr attire but a perfectly tailored black suit, waistcoat and tie. A dark emerald green shirt contrasted boldly underneath and an elaborate silver tiepin winked at her.

  Søren offered Anya his hand to help her from the cab. She hesitated before taking it, his long warm fingers wrapping around hers. She let it go straight away, though she still felt the tingling imprint on her palm. Søren gave her a half smile and even though she couldn’t see his eyes through his sunglasses, she imagined the mocking humour in them.

  “I did not know you would be escorting us,” said Aramis coolly as he paid the driver and tipped him for getting their bags from the trunk.

  “I couldn’t have you boarding the wrong plane by accident,” Søren replied as he took the handle of Anya’s small suitcase.

  “It’s not like we could have run away,” Aramis pointed out.

  “You’re certainly stupid enough to try. Shall we?” he offered Anya his arm, “Go on take it. I won’t bite. I’m actually feeling awful about scaring you.”

  “No, he isn’t,” Aramis said. “Come on we are wasting time.” Anya relented and tucked her arm around Søren’s. She felt awkward walking in between them. They certainly were a strik
ing pair and she felt like the ugly duckling between two scary, beautiful swans.

  She had dressed up for the occasion, which she was oddly grateful about now. She had put on a floaty dark purple, silk dress and black open toe pumps. She had applied her makeup the way Cerise had taught her and fixed her hair up with some pins. Even half-asleep, Cerise had noticed the effort and only rearranged her a little. At Aramis’s insistence, she carried a warm coat for when they got off the plane in Alaska.

  The flight to Anchorage was crowded so Anya was once again delighted to be placed in first class. She was however placed next to Søren with Aramis across the aisle.

  “Don’t look so nervous, Anya. I’m not going to hurt you,” Søren said seriously, as he took his sunglasses off. His eyes were an unnatural green like a cat.

  “You wouldn’t get the opportunity to even try,” she said sweetly. “I don’t like flying. My nerves have nothing to do with you.” She was lying and she knew he didn’t believe her. Søren smiled and it wasn’t very sweet.

  “You really think you’re that good, don’t you? It is laughable that you think you could stop me from doing whatever I like to you.”

  “I don’t think I’m that good, but I would give it a try if provoked. I suppose if you do kill me I won’t have to worry about anything anymore.”

  “So you are a fatalist as well.”

  “No, just tired of all the games that get played out around me and because of me.” Søren looked thoughtful for a few moments.

  “You know you look like her but you really are nothing like her. She loved the games. She used to start them all the time.”

  “Who? Yanka?”

  “Who else.”

  “So you knew her too then.”

  “Of course I did,” he said grimly. “At the time, everyone knew who she was. And I have to say that more than one person was glad to see the end of her.”

  “Is that why the Álfr are insisting on this interview? Because they think I’m like her?”

  “That, and my stupid, idiot of a brother has done something to you that he shouldn’t have.”

  “How many times must I tell you that I didn’t mean for the elvianth to happen? It was unintentional,” argued Aramis from across the aisle.

  “Your intentions don’t mean anything, brother. Now stop eavesdropping. It’s rude.” Aramis didn’t reply as Anya saw his hands folding into tight fists.

  “Honestly,” Søren continued, “he has been playing with humans for a few hundred years and he loses his manners all together.” Anya smiled a little and wished she hadn’t. She was saved when a flight attendant lowered herself down next to Søren.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, sir, you but can I say you have the most amazing hair I have ever seen,” she said with rapidly colouring cheeks. Søren’s hair was impressive tied up away from his face in delicate weaves while the rest of it spilled down his back and over his shoulders.

  “You certainly can say it and I’m very flattered you think so,” he replied. Anya watched as the attendant fluttered away glowing. Søren tucked a piece of hair behind his ear flashing the lines of a tattoo on the inside of his wrist.

  “Ask, Anya, if you’re going to, otherwise stop staring at me.” Anya blushed and pretended not to be phased by his bluntness.

  “What’s your tattoo of?”

  “It identifies that I am Dauđi Dómr, a Death Judge, for my clan,” Søren explained. “Aramis has them too but he has glamoured them away so that humans don’t notice them.”

  “Aramis used to be…”

  “Dauđi Dómr? Yes. That is until he neglected his duty and left the Álfr.”

  “Here we go…”Aramis sighed.

  “You two are such brothers,” said Anya and she tried to stare out the window. She could feel her magic like ants under her skin. It was curious about Søren and wanted to touch him just as it wanted to touch Aramis. She tried to grip the armrests and breathe deeply; closing her power off like Aleksandra had taught her.

  “You need to relax, Anya,” Søren said and laid his hand over hers. His magic, dark and glorious, poured into her, weaving and wrapping around her own. It spoke to Anya of shaded forests, hidden caves and the open night sky alive with stars.

  “Oh,” she whispered, her eyes wide. She let her own power rise to meet his.

  “Indeed,” said Søren, the smug smile gone from his face. “Do you want me to tell you why it acts like that?”

  “Yes,” she swallowed. Søren leaned in close and put his mouth up next to her ear. The brush of his lips against her skin made her shiver.

  “It is because you have a dark strain in your magic, like mine. Like you, it is attracted to things that you know you shouldn’t touch. Like a Thanatos, death itself.”

  “It acts this way when it touches Aramis,” she pointed out.

  “It’s drawn to the lightness of Aramis’s power but it will be nothing like if it gets a full taste of mine. You never know, Anya, you may get an opportunity to see all my tattoos before this trip is over.”

  “Ignorance seems like is bliss. Besides, I really don’t like you.”

  “You keep telling yourself that,” he said. He moved his hands away, the touch of his power remaining with her for the rest of the flight.

  ***

  When Vasilli stepped off the plane in New Orleans, the night air was warm. The phone that he had carried so that Ladislav could contact him had been tossed into a bin in Budapest. He wasn’t planning on taking orders from Ladislav anymore. He hadn’t told anyone that he was going to America. The branch of the Darkness in the New World didn’t need to know that. He would use what resources he could before he was discovered. Vasilli would follow Anya and take Yanka out from under her nose. If he could take them both, all the better.

  Chapter Thirty- Plan of Attack

  “What would you like to do today?” Aleksandra asked nervously. Mychal sat in a chair opposite her looking about as relaxed as he ever got. He didn’t reply. “I think we should drop into Harley’s and see how they are going with the planning. We can’t leave it up to them to do,” she bumbled on. Mychal pulled a face.

  “Do we have to? People are so irritating.”

  “I know, but remember how I said you’re going to have to get to know them? Besides, I would like to be with you without being attacked by anything. Normal day. Doing normal things.” Mychal leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

  “You think planning to infiltrate a highly guarded facility to rescue one of the most infamous Shamanitsa’s of all time is a normal day?”

  “For us it is normal.” Aleksandra was feeling flustered. She was glad she was wearing a cotton sundress, otherwise, she would have really been sweating. She wondered if she was ever going to feel normal around him. He smiled at her and Aleksandra blushed the same peach colour as her dress. She hated that he could do that.

  Harley’s workshop was insanely loud when they arrived. Axel Rose sang full volume through the speakers as beautiful tanned girls assembled equally beautiful chromed motorcycles.

  As one, their eyes seemed to zero in on Mychal. Aleksandra felt her confidence ebb out of her like a low tide. Mychal took her gloved hand gently. She risked a glance at his face, and saw that it hadn’t changed a bit.

  “Hey, guys, nice to see you again,” Blue Jay called as he polished something on a workbench. Aleksandra liked Blue Jay. There was something inherently friendly about him. “The troupe are upstairs through the office. They are all a bit hung over up there and the Twins, Yvan and everyone else arrived not long ago. I swear I’m never going to remember all their names. It’s getting a little out of control.”

  “I know the feeling,” Aleksandra laughed lightly. Mychal didn’t say anything at all. It didn’t seem to faze Blue Jay. He pointed them in the right direction and left them to it.

  “There is a lot of power protecting this place,” Mychal said when they were alone again.

  “Harley has been attacked a lot lately. Her gran
dmother has strong magic and so does Harley. It’s a precaution.” As they walked into the crowded, noisy lounge room, they all seemed to see Mychal and fall silent. Aleksandra tried to let go of his hand and his grip tightened.

  “I was wondering when you would turn up,” Katya said breaking the silence.

  “How’s it going Mychal?” Hamish asked casually, looking up from the papers, he was studying.

  “Good. Thank you.”

  “It’s good you’re here. I could use some fresh eyes,” Izrayl said. “We are in an argument about the best way to approach this entry point.” Mychal hesitated a moment before walking over to check the map where Izrayl was pointing.

  “Coffee?” Harley asked and Aleksandra followed her into the kitchen.

  “How long have they been arguing?” she said as she watched Harley get a mug.

  “Most of the morning has been productive arguing. Tell me, is Mychal always that intense looking?”

  “No, not always. He hasn’t had anything to do with people really and that group is full of big personalities. He’s uneasy, but I’m sure it will wear off. Yvan isn’t really the chatty kind either except with Anya.” She accepted the mug of steaming coffee from Harley and took a sip.

  “What are your thoughts on the Anya, Aramis, Álfr council circle?”

  “It’s worrying; she has faced a lot scarier foes and has walked away though. She is a survivor.” Katya burst in the kitchen in her usual boisterous manner.

  “I can’t believe you got him to come here,” she said.

  “I like it that you think I could get him to do anything. He came because he wanted to. Besides it will do him some good.”

  “If you say so.” She looked at Aleksandra expectantly.

  “No, we are not having sex so please stop looking like that.”

  “I didn’t say a thing!”

  “You were thinking it.”

  “I assumed because he walked in holding your hand very obviously where you haven’t been so obvious or forthcoming…”

  “I haven’t told you anything because there has been nothing to tell.”