Revenge in Vein, The Complete Series

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Revenge in Vein, The Complete Series Page 17

by Jennifer Blackstream


  The words died on her tongue as she found herself seated next to Aldric. His long red hair was tied behind him in a braid as usual, his bright green eyes boring into hers like the light of the sun itself forced through the body of an emerald. His chest was bare, leaving nothing between her gaze and the sculpted muscles of his stomach. Desire curled in her belly, rising to fill her heat with erotic images and the memory of moans in the darkness.

  “Your reaction tells me there is a great deal between you and the former vampire.”

  Saule blushed as Aldric’s face receded to reveal Baba Yaga’s aged complexion and sharp black eyes. She cursed her body for its betrayal, knowing Baba Yaga would know how the sight of Aldric had affected her.

  “I am here about my daughter,” she repeated firmly, forcing herself to meet Baba Yaga’s penetrating gaze. “Valkyrine is in danger.”

  “I spoke with a rusalka not two nights ago and she told me Valkyrine is quite happy. Rutting like an animal most nights, she said. With two m--”

  “There is a darkness near her,” Saule fretted, genuine concern for her daughter chasing away her earlier embarrassment. “I sensed it.”

  “There will always be a darkness near her,” Baba Yaga pointed out. “She is the Evening Star. It is her fate to be a light in the midst of darkness.”

  “No longer, grandmother. She is a vieschtitsa now.” Saule dropped the word into the room like a curse, watching for Baba Yaga’s reaction. Surely even the mistress of the forest must understand what a tragedy Valkyrine had brought on the world?

  “The package is wholly irrelevant. I myself take whatever shape I please and I assure you it does not change who, or what, I am.”

  Baba Yaga’s apparent lack of concern sucked the wind from Saule’s sails and she slumped in her seat. If she could not convince the witch that Valkyrine needed to return to the heavens, then the old woman would never agree to use her magic to transform her daughter back into a meita. “Grandmother, have pity. I must take my daughter back to Sky Mountain where she will be safe.”

  “Valkyrine does not wish to return to Sky Mountain. She is happy running naked through the forest with her pair of moras.”

  “Moras?” Saule frowned. “The two men with her are vampires.”

  “They were vampires,” Baba Yaga corrected her. “Our little Valkyrine changed them into moras to help the younger one get his soul back from the undine who stole it.” The witch tilted her head at Saule. “Are you not proud?”

  Saule closed her hand around her mug, trembling with the sudden rush of anger and shame. It was her failed plan that had put those men in her daughter’s bed. Rather than saving her daughter, she had made it all the easier for her to remain rooted in her new dark life. Now she was transforming vampires into moras, beasts with fangs into the stuff of nightmares. What more shame could she bring on Saule’s name?

  “How could she do this to me?” The question flew from her mouth before she could stop it. Saule covered her face with her hands, bowing her head as sorrow rested on her shoulders. “My sweet little meita has turned her back on me, on her people.”

  “She’s done no such thing,” Baba Yaga scoffed. “Your daughter is finding her way, as all young people must.”

  Anger burned up Saule’s spine like a fuse and her head snapped up. She glared at Baba Yaga, momentarily forgetting the fear the old witch inspired in her. “She does not need to find her way! She is the Evening Star! She is meant to bring light and comfort to her people when darkness falls all around them. How can that not be enough?”

  “You carry the sun across the sky to bring light to your people, and yet you are a warrior as well,” Baba Yaga pointed out calmly.

  Saule didn’t miss the dangerous tone that had crept into Baba Yaga’s voice, but she was too lost in her own pain to exercise caution.

  “Yes, there was a time when I tried to carry out two opposing roles,” she muttered bitterly. “I tried to bring peace and warmth as well as carry the sword for my people. It does not work. A deity that brings light and happiness has no business bathing in blood and bringing death.”

  As soon as those words left her lips, Saule realized her mistake. She turned a wide-eyed gaze to Baba Yaga, her hand flying to her mouth.

  Baba Yaga grinned at her, her black eyes sparkling with a dangerous gleam. “Oh, do not stop now. Do go on about how one cannot bring both life and death, hope and despair.”

  “Grandmother, I meant no disrespect,” Saule gasped, stunned at her own stupidity. “You are the most powerful guardian our people have, both in your dark and light aspects. No one exemplifies the duality of life as you do. I mean only that I--”

  “You are a fool, sun goddess,” Baba Yaga said softly. “You let other people’s foolishness frighten you away from a role you were meant to fill. To make matters worse, you level that same ignorance on everyone around you. Only a simpleton limits herself to one role. Mother or daughter, healer or warrior, life or death,” she raised her eyebrows, “love or hate. No one is as one-sided as you would like them to be and if you do not learn to see things from the perspective of others, you will blind yourself to everyone’s emotions but your own. You will end up alone, sun goddess.”

  “Blind myself to the emotions of others?” Saule echoed. Her mind flew from the conversation at hand, back to the man with hair the color of blood and eyes as cold as a starless night. “You refer to Aldric.”

  “Hate and love are not mutually exclusive. He hates you, yes, but he loves you as well. But until you can stop trying to force him to chose one side or the other, he will be forced to pick one side of the coin--and he is too angry to choose love. Hear me now, oh bright one. If you cannot see your way to respecting the duality of all people, of all emotions, then you will never make the connection that will heal the rift between you.”

  “I am here about Valkyrine, not Aldric.” The words fell into open air, weak and emotionless.

  “It doesn’t matter. It applies to both. Valkyrine wants to experience dark pleasures as well as light, but you limited her to the sunny side of life. If you had let her have both, she would have reveled in her own duality. But you did not. You forced her to choose--and she chose darkness.”

  Saule stared into space. An image of Aldric and Valkyrine sprang to her mind. She imagined herself standing on Sky Mountain, the sun shining behind her in all its glory. Aldric and Valkyrine stood at the bottom of the mountain, deep in the shadows of the forest that crept up to the foot of the stony incline. She reached out to them, begging them to forgive her, to return to the roles they once filled. The more she begged, the farther into the shadows they moved until she couldn’t see them any more.

  “Tell me, grandmother,” Saule said quietly. “Will I ever get my priest and my Evening Star back?”

  “As long as you try to force them into a single role, they will always choose the role farthest from you.”

  “So you’re saying I have to let Valkyrine be a lustful, flesh-eating, blood-drinking vieschtitsa as well as my Evening Star and let Aldric be a frightful murderous vampire as well as my priest?” Saule shook her head even as she said the words.

  Baba Yaga downed the rest of her kvass in one gulp. After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she fixed Saule with a heavy stare.

  “Tell me, bright one, have you ever asked either of your two lost sheep why they sought their respective transformations?”

  “Of course I’ve asked Valkyrine how she could do this to me. I have gotten no answer save for hatred spewed in my face.”

  Baba Yaga shook her head in disgust. “You do not listen.”

  Saule opened her mouth and then closed it. Frowning, she thought back to when she’d believed Aldric had transformed Valkyrine against her will. There had been no need to question Valkyrine’s motives then. And when she’d finally discovered the truth of Valkyrine’s desire for the transformation, she’d been too caught up in the horror of what her daughter had done. She’d been busy thinking of a way to chang
e her back, far too busy to stop and question her offspring’s motives.

  “I don’t know why Valkyrine chose to turn away from me,” she murmured.

  “And Aldric?”

  She looked away. “He hates me for not saving his village.”

  “Your ignorance astounds me.”

  Saule whipped around to glare at Baba Yaga, her affront making her brave.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Baba Yaga shook her head and stood from the table. “Go. Ask Valkyrine and Aldric why they wanted to change. And for the sake of your own sanity, listen to them, sun goddess. Really listen.”

  Saule stared in surprise as Baba Yaga turned her back, dismissing her. Part of her wanted to shoot to her feet and scream at the witch. Baba Yaga was famous for her assistance, for providing the means to solve a problem without long drawn out conversations and analysis. Where was the potion? The advice on how to achieve her goal? If Baba Yaga couldn’t help her get back her priest and her Evening Star, then what chance did she have?

  As if sensing her conflict, Baba Yaga glanced over her shoulder and smiled. The jagged iron teething gleaming between her lips told Saule what could happen if she lingered, if she abused the hospitality of the mistress of the forest. Bottling her emotions up inside herself, Saule rose to her feet and left.

  Chapter 5

  Aldric absent-mindedly snatched an apple from a low hanging branch. Thanks to Dubheasa’s help, he had arrived back in Saule’s orchard with time to spare. He glared at the light surrounding him. Not that it was easy to tell the passage of time when you were on Sky Mountain. It was always sunny here, always bright. The essence of the sun, of Saule herself, had infused the whole blasted mountaintop. It made it impossible not to think of her.

  Standing still, staring out at the sky, Aldric was painfully aware of the warmth radiating from the mountain. The heat had that heavy quality that made it seem like a touch, as if the warmth was alive and caressing his skin. In his former life, his first human existence, he had cherished the days when the heat came alive like this. On those days he’d imagined that Saule herself was calling on him, paying him a visit after noticing how devoted he was to her. His jaw tightened as he fought back the emotion the memories elicited. He had loved those days once.

  All of his people had worshipped Saule, but none had loved her as he did. From the first moment he’d seen her face, smiling down at him from a temple painting, he’d loved her. It had never mattered that he was human and she was a goddess--not to him. He had loved her with the blind faith that true love brings, the quiet certainty that in the face of such a powerful love, obstacles big and small would just fall away. He had never doubted her.

  Pain opened its yawning maw deep inside him, flashing sharp memories like teeth. The first sounds of fighting flew to his ears, waking him from his bed. He remembered racing out into the night, with his heart pounding and the bitter taste of fear on his tongue. He had practically thrown himself to the floor of the temple, humbling himself as he prayed to his beautiful goddess. With each word of prayer he had calmed, feeling an overwhelming peace just from the feel of her name on his lips. He had believed with every fiber of his being that she would come. She would save his people.

  The screams of his neighbors as their homes were destroyed, their bodies bloodied by the Russians weapons, echoed in his ears and Aldric covered his face with his hands.

  “I should have fought,” he forced out through clenched teeth. “Should have studied war, learned to defend my people myself instead of wasting my time on a woman.”

  Guilt crawled over his skin like insects, wriggling and biting as they burrowed inside him. He had stood idly by, wasting his breath on prayers when his people needed him. Weapons were stronger than prayer, his own devotion to his people greater than hers. He had chosen the wrong path. But never again.

  Dropping his hands from his face, Aldric stared down the mountain, his mind whirling with a thousand thoughts. After all these years, he would finally see Saule get the punishment she so richly deserved.

  Chernobog would see to that.

  The name whispered across Aldric’s mind and an involuntary shiver ran down his spine. There was a time when that name inspired terror in him, when the very thought of the black god would send him running to Saule’s temple to pray. The stories of Chernobog had been endless, each one more horrifying than the last. But time and experience had made him wiser.

  He laughed, a short joyless sound. If there was one thing Saule had taught him it was that the stories could be wrong. Just as the goddess of light was not pure goodness, so the darkness in and of itself is not evil. Just like the sun could burn as well as warm, the darkness could protect as well as frighten. Saule had forgotten her people, had forgotten it was her job to protect them. After Aldric had his revenge, she would never forget again.

  “Aldric!”

  Aldric snapped his attention to the horizon. His breath caught in his throat. Saule rode toward him, her long golden hair trailing behind her and her blue eyes sparkling like sapphires. He swallowed hard past a lump of emotion, cursing himself for his reaction. He hated her, more than he’d ever hated anyone, and yet the sight of her still tugged at his heart. It made him hate her all the more.

  The sound of her horses’ hooves clattering along the stone of the mountain filled the air. Aldric clenched his teeth, wiping all signs of emotion from his face. He would not let her see how she affected him. She had no right to his emotions anymore.

  Instead of leaping out of her chariot as he’d expected her to do, Saule held out her hand to him.

  “Come with me, Aldric.”

  Aldric frowned, perturbed by the slightly breathless quality of her voice. She sounded . . . excited? Saule had exhibited a fair range of emotions since his arrival on Sky Mountain, but excitement had never been one of them. Hope, anger, shock . . . but not excitement.

  “Is that an order from my mistress?” he asked testily.

  “Yes, now hurry up.”

  His eyebrows rose slightly despite his intention to keep his face free of emotion. Saule had not risen to his bait. What in the world had caused her change in disposition?

  Curious, Aldric finally acquiesced to her request. Ignoring the hand she held out to him, he grabbed onto the edges of her chariot and hauled his body in beside her. Despite the generous size of the interior, he felt suddenly claustrophobic. She was too close. Memories flooded his mind, reminding him of what their bodies had felt like wedded together, skin to skin with their moans like music all around them. She was so close.

  Before he could decide to jump out, Saule snapped the reins and her horses took off with a heave of power. Aldric clasped the sides of the chariot as they shot off the side of Sky Mountain and into the air.

  “You are in an awfully good mood,” he muttered, half in an attempt to distract himself from how incredibly high above the earth they were. “Destroyed any villages today?”

  “Tell me why you became my priest.”

  Fury tightened Aldric’s mouth and burned like hot coals in his belly. “Feeling sadistic?”

  “There must have been something about me that inspired you, something you respected?”

  “Whatever it was, it was destroyed by your arrogance and neglect,” Aldric hissed. “I learned the foolishness of . . .”

  He trailed off as the chariot tilted, the horses turning their attention to earth. Saule faced him, her face calm and serene as her golden skin began to pale. Her blue eyes lost some of their glow, her hair releasing some of its luster. Shock reverberated through his system as he realized he was witnessing Saule taking on human form.

  A flashback so powerful it almost drove him to his knees crashed into his mind as the horses clattered to earth. The last time Saule had looked this human she had been bound, naked and spread-eagled, in the Unseelie sithen. He could feel the ghost of her skin on his palms, feel the ache of fangs he no longer possessed in his mouth. His cock swelled with blood, standin
g erect against his stomach as he remembered what it had felt like to slide into her body . . .

  “Do you remember this place?”

  Dazed, aroused, and desperate to rid himself of the conflicting emotions ripping him apart, Aldric tore his gaze from Saule’s beautiful face and examined his new surroundings. The sight that greeted him made his heart twist painfully.

  They were in a forest. The last of the sun’s rays shone through the golden canopy overhead, illuminating a pile of stones that had been worn smooth with time. He knew each stone, remembered every curve. It was the first alter he had ever built, a labor of love from the hands of a youth besotted with a goddess.

  Musical humming swirled in the air around him and Aldric turned slowly to face Saule. She looked at him with that beautiful human face, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she sang the clumsy daina he had written the day he built this alter. The melody was similar to other dainas, he had not had the musical mind to write his own, but the words were his. The sound of his song on the lips of the goddess he had written it about took his breath away and brought tears to his eyes.

 

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