Shadows of Asphodel Box Set: The Complete Trilogy

by Karen Kincy

  “Where were you?” Ardis said.

  “With Wolfram.” Wendel looked at his hands. “After what you said, I thought that I should be there for him.”

  She swallowed past the ache in her throat. “I should have never said that.”

  “It hurt,” he said, “because you were right.”

  “No, I wasn’t.” She tightened her fingers around his hand. “Your family has treated you so badly. You deserve better.”

  Wendel’s laugh was soft and broken. “Do I?”

  “You deserve an apology from me. Forgive me?”

  “If you have forgiven me for everything, it’s the least I can do.” He looked at her through his eyelashes. “Trust me?”

  “If the vampire wasn’t your fault, then yes, I trust you.”

  Wendel’s face tightened, and Ardis poked him in the ribs to show him she was joking.

  “I promised not to touch opium,” he said, “and I promise not to touch vampires.”

  “Not even to try your necromancy?”

  He hesitated, and she poked him again.

  “Not unless absolutely necessary,” he said.

  All the bells of the cathedral began to ring. Their chimes echoed under the high ceiling. Goosebumps rushed over Ardis.

  “Is it a warning?” she said.

  “Maybe we won,” Wendel said.

  She raised her voice over the clamor. “Maybe we lost.”

  “After you defeated the clockwork dragon?”

  “They outnumber us two to one.”

  Wendel arched an eyebrow. “That’s rather bleak. I doubt we survived this long only to die at the hands of Russian soldiers.”

  “Why not?”

  “I prefer to think I will have a grandiose obituary,” he said airily.

  Wendel stood from the pew and took her hand. Together, they walked from Königsberg Cathedral and stepped into the light.

  Townspeople crowded on the streets. Their faces looked bright with excitement.

  “Excuse me,” Wendel said, “but what the hell is going on?”

  A man grinned at him. “The Russians are retreating!”

  Wendel tilted his head with a silver of a smile.

  “See?” he said.

  Ardis sighed. Wendel’s smile widened, and he swept her into his arms again.

  “I can walk, you know,” she said.

  “I know.”

  He carried her for a block or two, until she started laughing, and he set her on her feet.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?” Wendel said.

  Ardis swallowed another laugh. “No, thank you.”

  “But my reputation as a gentleman is at stake.”

  “You already saved me from the Russians.” She touched her wrist to her forehead. “My knight in shining armor.”

  He snorted. “I’m not wearing any armor.”

  “I’d like to see you not wearing anything.”

  Wendel’s eyes glinted, and he grabbed her hand. He led her to the doors of their hotel and almost hauled her upstairs.

  “Slow down,” Ardis said, breathless.

  Wendel fished the key from his pocket and pantomimed unlocking the door very, very slowly. He kept a straight face.

  Ardis laughed. “Don’t be evil.”

  “I think you like it when I’m evil.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I think you’re secretly too good for that. You’re quite nice.”

  “Nice?” Wendel feigned a gasp. “Heaven forbid.”

  “You should work on your bastard skills. You’re losing touch.”

  “Never.”

  Wendel swung open the door, hooked his hand behind her waist, and swept her into the room. She escaped from him and fell back on the bed. The day weighted down her bones. A long sigh shuddered from her lungs.

  “We made it,” she said.

  He smirked. “It would have been quicker if you let me carry you.”

  “No,” she said. “We’re alive.”

  Wendel’s smirk faltered, and he kicked off his boots.

  “Alive, but filthy,” he said. “Come bathe with me.”

  That sounded wonderful. While Wendel ran the bath, Ardis peeled away every layer of her clothes. The more naked she became, the more vulnerable she felt. They hadn’t finished their conversation in the cathedral.

  Naked, Ardis walked into the bathroom. Wendel knelt by the tub, his wrist under the tap. He glanced over his shoulder, and the heat in his eyes smoldered. He straightened, one eyebrow cocked, and unbuttoned his shirt. Blood flecked the white cotton, and she wondered how many he had killed on the battlefield. She wondered if he felt proud for saving Königsberg. If he did, his face showed no indication.

  “After you,” Wendel said, with a lazy wave at the bathtub.

  Ardis stepped into the water and let it rise to her calves. She lowered herself to the bottom and tucked her knees to her chest. The heat of the bath soaked into her sore muscles and left her feeling delightfully drowsy.

  “Where do we go from here?” Ardis said.

  Wendel stripped off the last of his clothes and knelt by the tub. He dangled his arm over the edge of the porcelain and brushed his fingertips through the water, back and forth. His green eyes looked contemplative.

  “Where would you like to go?” he said.

  Ardis rubbed her knees. “I don’t want to fight another battle like the last.”

  Wendel’s hand drifted along her arm. He stopped on her shoulders, then started to massage her back. His fingers worked out the knots in her muscles. She closed her eyes and sighed blissfully at his touch.

  “You’re so good at this,” Ardis said. “Yet another one of your talents.”

  Wendel laughed, though sadness betrayed his voice.

  “You frightened me today,” he said.

  Somehow the soft way he said it clenched her chest all that much harder. She curled her hands, her fingernails biting into her palms.

  “You aren’t the only one,” she said.

  “We should stop fighting.” Wendel’s hands slowed. “For the baby’s sake.”

  Ardis stared at the ripples on the water. “I forgot to tell you.”

  Wendel stopped rubbing her shoulders. “Ardis. Did you—?” He let out a breath rather than finish that thought.

  “The vampire knew.”

  Wendel leaned on the edge of the rub, grimacing at the mention of the vampire.

  “I don’t understand,” he said.

  “The vampire said I was pregnant.”

  The grimace vanished from Wendel’s face, replaced by a blank look with a bit of joy leaking through the cracks.

  “We’re having a baby?” he said.

  Ardis nodded.

  Wendel leaned across the tub and kissed her on the mouth. His hand cradled her neck and his fingers tangled in her hair. She relaxed beneath him, her legs slipping to the bottom of the tub, her hands resting on her thighs.

  Wendel smiled against her lips. “My tiny minion,” he whispered.

  Ardis scoffed and splashed water on him, but she couldn’t drown out his laughter. He shielded himself with his arm.

  “You’re supposed to be wet,” Ardis deadpanned. “I’m helping.”

  Cautiously, Wendel lowered his arm and climbed into the tub. Ardis reached for the soap. Butterflies whirled in her chest.

  They were having a baby.

  They both washed in the bath, though they didn’t linger. Wendel seemed rather intent on drying Ardis and dragging her to bed. They lay together under the soft cool sheets. She listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

  “I love you,” Wendel said.

  She didn’t think she could ever hear him say it enough. He could say it a thousand times and she would still want to hear it again.

  Ardis kissed Wendel, the kind of slow kiss that melted your bones, and slid her fingertips down his chest. She found how hard he was. She stroked him in her hand. He sighed against her mouth, and she inhaled his breath.

&nb
sp; “I’m all yours,” Ardis said.

  Wendel held himself over her and deepened the kiss. His skin scorched her own. She arched against him, and he kissed both her breasts. When he gave himself to her, she gasped at the intimacy of skin to skin. Nothing between them. She felt armor falling away from her heart, and she trusted him with it completely.

  They moved together, wordlessly, until their breathing became staccato. Wendel kissed her again, his lips insistent against her own. Trembling, she ached with unspoken emotion. The intensity overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes. Tears escaped past her eyelashes, and Wendel kissed them from her cheeks.

  “Why are you crying?” he whispered.

  She opened her eyes. “I love you so much it doesn’t fit inside.”

  “I could make a joke about fitting inside, but I won’t.” His mouth curled into a smile.

  Ardis laughed and slapped him on the shoulder.

  “That’s it,” she said. “Moment ruined.”

  “Is it?” He grinned. “Or is it improved?”

  Wendel kissed Ardis, his tongue sliding into her mouth, salty with the taste of her tears. He brought her to the brink of sweet oblivion, and he held her when she fell. He moaned out a sigh and filled her with his seed.

  They lay together, entwined, and needed to say nothing. Wendel’s magic shivered between the sweat on their skin, but Ardis didn’t even blink. His necromancy belonged to him, and this necromancer belonged to her.

  ~

  Later that evening, someone knocked on their door. Decent, though damp from another bath, Ardis answered the door.

  Konstantin. He tugged at the collar of his dinner jacket and coughed.

  “Pardon the interruption,” he said, “but we have been invited to the castle.”

  Wendel leaned against the doorway behind Ardis.

  “Who does we include, archmage?” he said.

  Konstantin waved an ivory invitation. “The heroes of Königsberg.”

  Wendel twisted his mouth, but before he could speak, Ardis beat him to it.

  “Of course,” she said. “We would be honored.”

  Konstantin nodded. “I’ll give you a minute to change. I’ll be in the lobby.”

  Ardis and Wendel dressed in eveningwear. As Ardis pinned her hair, Wendel fiddled with his cufflinks in the mirror.

  “God,” he said, “I hope don’t get any blood on this shirt before the night is over.”

  She arched her eyebrows. “It would be nice to finish dinner unscathed.”

  “Otherwise I will be permanently indebted to tailors.”

  Properly attired, Ardis and Wendel descended to the lobby. Konstantin straightened the edelweiss pin on his lapel.

  “Shall we?” Konstantin said.

  They followed him into the street. Evening flowed overhead in a river of stars. Not a single cloud marred the sky.

  The clockwork dragon never would again, a thought which immensely satisfied Ardis.

  A scrap of black flew overhead. “Grok!”

  Krampus flared his wings and landed on Wendel’s shoulder. The raven’s claws curled around the cloth of his jacket.

  “There you are,” Wendel said. “Abominable brat.”

  He stroked under the raven’s chin. Krampus blinked and gurgled.

  Konstantin sighed. “You can’t bring that raven to dinner.”

  “Krampus?” Wendel said. “But he’s a hero of Königsberg.”

  “Obviously,” Ardis said, pokerfaced.

  Konstantin shook his head with an exasperated smile.

  As they walked down the street, Himmel fell in step alongside. The zeppelin captain wore a dress uniform with a smart hat. He had lost the last one during the sinking of the Wanderfalke, and the new captain’s hat suited him.

  “Theodore.” Konstantin’s eyes brightened. “Walk with us to the castle?”

  “Himmel,” said the captain, “and yes.”

  Konstantin blushed crimson, though that may have had something to do with Himmel stealthily slapping him on the behind.

  Krampus cocked his head and stared at Himmel’s mechanical arm.

  “Your arm is shiny,” Wendel said.

  “Thank you?” Himmel said.

  “Krampus likes shiny things.”

  Himmel’s mustache bristled. “And dead bodies.” He held away his mechanical arm.

  Wendel smirked and kept his gaze on the street.

  Königsberg Castle looked rather ruined by night, the tallest tower crumbling, the conservatory smashed, but Ardis saw scaffolding propping up the stones. It would be rebuilt, after the war, maybe even before.

  As they entered the castle, winter wind flickered the candles in the entrance hall. Himmel closed the door behind them.

  Juliana loitered by a carved column. A silver gown shimmered on her like rainfall.

  “You’re early,” she said, in a bored drawl. “Dying to relive the last dinner?”

  Wendel smirked. “It’s good to see you, too, Juliana.”

  “Good evening,” said a ghostly voice.

  “Christ!” Wendel said.

  Wolfram rolled from the shadows in a wicker wheelchair, pushed by a footman. A boyish grin split Wolfram’s face.

  “Heavens, Wolfie,” Juliana said. “Don’t do that.”

  “Did I startle you?” Wolfram said.

  Wendel snorted. “Hardly. I could hear that wheelchair squeaking.”

  “Liar,” Wolfram said. “I don’t need the wheelchair, though Mother insists on it. She’s worried I might have another fit.”

  Wendel’s eyebrows descended. “Is that what the doctors say?”

  Wolfram shrugged. “Possibly.”

  “Please be careful, Wolfie,” Juliana said. “You did hit your head fairly spectacularly.”

  Wolfram gripped the arms of his wheelchair and staggered upright. He winced.

  “Damn,” Wolfram said. “My feet fell asleep.”

  “Are you sure you won’t fall over?” Wendel said.

  “Only one way to find out.”

  Wolfram clomped over and stumbled against Wendel. The brothers hugged, then laughed over each other’s shoulders.

  Ardis grinned, and she even saw Juliana hide a smile behind her hand.

  A gust of wind announced the arrival of the next guest. Nikola Tesla strode into the castle wearing an immaculate suit and an ivory cravat.

  “Ardis,” Tesla said. “How fortunate to meet you here.”

  Ardis shook his gloved hand. He had a crisp handshake.

  “The USS Jupiter really was something,” she said.

  Tesla frowned. “I must apologize for what happened in the field. We tried to warn you by wireless before the Colossus fell.”

  Embarrassment burned her ears. “My fault, not yours. I need to learn Morse code.”

  Tesla tipped his head. “You performed admirably with the Eisenkrieger.”

  At the mention of Eisenkriegers, Konstantin stepped into their conversation. He clasped his hands thoughtfully behind his back.

  “The clockwork dragon was a formidable foe,” Konstantin said.

  “That’s an understatement,” Ardis said.

  “We have yet to understand its true power. Some experiments are in order.”

  Ardis suspected Konstantin might have his next endeavor after Project Lazarus.

  Himmel cleared his throat. “Experiment all you want on the clockwork dragon, so long as you don’t bring that thing back to life.”

  Konstantin looked at the ceiling and bit his lip. “Of course not.”

  The archmage sounded less than convincing. Himmel clucked his tongue.

  “Where will you go now, Tesla?” Ardis said.

  Tesla coughed. “I’m afraid we may have overstayed our welcome here. We acted in defense when the clockwork dragon attacked, but that may have complicated diplomacy. We have orders to return to America.”

  Ardis touched her hand over her heart. “I haven’t been home to America in three years.”

  “Oh?
” Tesla said. “It takes only three days for the Jupiter to cross the Atlantic. You are more than welcome to travel with us.”

  Ardis twisted her fingers together. “Thank you, though I’m not sure I can.”

  “Nonsense, Ardis.” Konstantin brushed away her comment. “I believe you are long overdue some leave. Perhaps a month?”

  “I would love to,” she said, “but there may be some legal issues.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m an outlaw in America.”

  “Oh, yes. That.”

  “I’d rather not be arrested the moment I arrive.”

  Konstantin had a sly smile. “The archmages can take care of all the paperwork. Diplomatic immunity and such.”

  Hope bubbled through Ardis like champagne. “Thank you.”

  Konstantin shook her hand, and she tugged him into a hug. He patted her on the back, then tried to look professional.

  “I’ll expect you to report back to the Archmages of Vienna,” he said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Konstantin laughed. “Please don’t call me that. It makes me feel old.”

  “What,” Ardis said, “have they found a younger archmage?”

  He laughed again. “I doubt such a prodigy exists.”

  “Bragging, archmage?” Wendel said. “I approve.”

  Himmel grumbled in his throat. “Don’t corrupt Konstantin.”

  “I’ll leave that to you.” Wendel smirked.

  Waldemar and Cecelia made their entrance. Medals gleamed on Waldemar’s uniform, and sequins glittered across Cecelia’s seafoam gown. They surveyed their guests with as much pompous majesty as they could muster.

  Wendel held his hand at his mouth. His eyes looked shadowed.

  “It’s my honor to invite you here tonight,” Waldemar said. “Your heroics in the name of Königsberg will not be forgotten.”

  Cecelia pressed her hands together as if in prayer. “Thank you. Thank you all.”

  “You’re welcome,” Wendel muttered.

  Wolfram elbowed his brother in the ribs.

  “Please.” Waldemar waved his arm imperiously. “Dinner is served.”

  Waldemar and Cecelia strode down the hall. Everyone followed them to the dining room. Wendel lingered on the threshold.

  Waldemar spread his napkin in his lap. He frowned at a candelabra for a moment.

  “Wendel,” he said.

  Wendel glanced at him. “Yes?”

  His father looked into his eyes, and an instant of understanding crossed between them.