“Did he succeed, Harley?” Mama Lya checked down her face and clothes.
“No, I mean I wouldn’t have been able to leave if he had. He tried to grab me first.”
“Idiot man. That didn’t go as well as I hoped. There is something evil going on there, Harley. I felt it. They’ve gathered dark powers to New Orleans.”
“Do you think they are behind the killings?”
“Maybe not all of them, but definitely some of them. You had best not go anywhere unescorted from now on. You drew blood on Pierre and he’s not the kind of man to let that pass.”
“I’m going to Silvian’s tonight, and if they are stupid enough to try something there, it isn’t me you will need to worry about.”
“Good, make sure you stay there. I need to make some phone calls and you should get Isabelle to do the same. We need to get some hunters here and fast.”
“You will start a war doing that, Mama!”
“It’s not to start a war. It’s to protect the streets and the normals. I don’t give a damn what the idiot council do to each other but I won’t let it spill out into public. Make the calls, Harley. I’ll do the same. There are some I could call on that owe me a favour.”
“Do me a favour and call Abélard to come around and spend the night. I don’t want you alone,” Harley said once they pulled up in front of Silvian’s grand house. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”
“No, I’m not in the party mood,” Mama Lya said as she took the keys from Harley. She hugged her tightly, more tightly than she had in years. “Make sure you watch yourself.” She let Harley go and got into the car, driving away without a backwards glance. Blue Jay was standing on the porch leaning against a white column, a beer in his hand.
“Harley? You okay?” He put the beer down and hurried down the stairs. She walked through the gate, felt the brush of Silvian’s protection wards and let out a shaky breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Blue Jay hugged her tightly and she tried her best not to start crying.
“What happened, cher? You look grey.”
“Fucking Frankie…council…bastards,” she managed before she started to sob. “They are behind everything, Blue Jay, I’m sure of it.”
“Shhh, don’t cry, honey.”
“What the hell happened?” Isabelle appeared out of the house. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m not hurt,” Harley said and let Blue Jay go. “We are going to have big trouble real soon, Belle.”
“I knew it,” she sighed. “Let’s get you inside.” Her blue eyes scanned the length of the street before shutting the black door behind them. Fox and Silvian were arguing over cocktail recipes when Harley sat down at the marble bench, unstrapped her holster and dumped it next to her.
“My, isn’t that something different to pull out from under your shirt,” Silvian smirked and handed her a frozen margarita. Harley leaned over to take the tequila bottle, having a hearty swig before taking the offered drink from him. “I take it your trip to the Conseil Neutres didn’t go well.”
“I may have started a war.”
Silvian laughed and it slid heat all over her skin, “If I had a dollar for every time I heard that. What happened?”
Harley waited until Isabelle had retrieved Hamish from the BBQ out back before she told them what had happened at Coliseum Street. Silvian refilled her glass expertly as she continued to empty them. How he managed to make cocktails in a crisp white shirt without getting fruit juice splatted over it was beyond Harley’s comprehension.
“The sour twat faced bastards,” Hamish growled when she had finished. “If the council have invited ex-Darkness to town, then it explains why so many of the killings have been part of rituals. They were probably the ones that didn’t want Yanka taking control again. Those crazy Council bastards don’t know what they have invited in.”
“They know, they just don’t give a shit,” said Fox.
“I will make some calls in the morning,” Isabelle promised. “I’ve already emailed a few that I didn’t tell you about. After last night’s stroll in the streets, I thought they’d be needed.”
“It’s a good thing I purchased such a grand house with so many rooms.” Silvian smiled as he gave Fox a lime to chop up.
“I don’t expect you to house all the hunters. Most will probably object to it on the grounds that they hate other people,” said Isabelle. “I don’t think I could handle a house full of hunters.”
“Well, I expect you and Hamish to move in tomorrow at the very least. No, don’t argue,” he held up his hand. “I’d sleep better knowing that you were in a place that’s properly protected. Besides, if anything should happen to you two, I’m sure Anyanka would come back and kick my behind.”
“I thought you would enjoy that kind of thing,” Fox quipped as she sipped on her beer.
“There’s a difference between a bit of pain in the bedroom to getting your ass whooped, as you Americans would say. Anya’s ass kicking wouldn’t be enjoyable,” Silvian said. “She’d make sure of it.”
Fox laughed, “And you haven’t even seen her hopped up on Groenn Skaer power like she is now.”
“I shudder to think, but that’s Aramis’s concern and Yvan’s worry,” Silvian replied. “There’s nothing in this city strong enough to get into this property, Miss Harley, so rest easy.” Harley smiled but the sick feeling curled in among her ribs refused to fade.
***
Mama Lya was telling Abélard all about her trip to see the Council, when she felt something disturb her wards. “Lya, I’ll be around in ten,” he said soothingly. “You have the rum ready and we can talk this out before you do anything rash.”
Mama Lya’s skin was tingling and she knew something was standing behind her in the dark hallway, “I got none. Can you grab me a bottle on the way over? Something nice. Take your time and I’ll get something cooking.”
“Lya, your voice is changed…what’s happening?”
“Nothing at all, you old goat,” she said and hung up on him. She didn’t want him to walk in on whatever was about to happen and get himself killed. Mama Lya walked calmly to her kitchen and poured herself a glass of the rum.
“You might as well come out, Frankie,” she said, “I know you are here anyways.” The big Haitian was standing in her door way and said nothing. He had a very sharp looking knife in his hands. “Well, they sure gonna make certain that your allegiances lies with them, aren’t they? Lorraine put you up to it?” His black eyes flashed. “Yep, thought so.”
“Madame Lya, you’ve been charged with treason by the Conseil Neutres,” he said.
“Treason, you say? If it’s treasonous to want to protect the innocent from the likes of the whore spawns that you’re associating with, then I’m guilty as charged.” She poured some more rum, spilling a little as if she was already drunk.
“I tried to speak for you, Lya, but Harley pushed them when she drew blood.”
“Oh yes, and I suppose Pierre wasn’t about to slap a curse on her when he reached for her?” Mama Lya drew idly with the spilt rum while Francois looked at the floor. The veve was all but invisible in the fading light outside. Be damned if she was going to let this upstart steal her power when he killed her.
“It’s irrelevant. You will die.”
“Very well. Suppose you can let me finish this drink and say my prayers before you do it.”
Mama Lya shut her eyes, sipping her drink while she whispered a prayer to the Almighty. She believed in God, make no mistake, but she knew God was going to want some harsh words with her very soon. Mama Lya didn’t even feel the edge of the knife as it slid across her wrinkled neck. Warmth rushed out of her and onto her white cotton dress. As quick as a whip, she grabbed Francois’s hand smearing it with her blood. His eyes were as big as saucers.
“Too slow, Frankie,” she choked and she cursed him with all the power she had in her. Francois screamed as he dropped his knife and fled the house clutching his head. With shaking hands, Mama Lya sc
ribbled one last veve in her blood and died.
***
Across town, the beer bottle fell from Harley’s hands as a ball of invisible power thumped her hard in the chest. She fell to her knees screaming in horrified sobs.
“Harley! Harley! What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Fox grabbed her face to lift it.
“They killed her! They killed her!” screamed Harley as she pulled at her hair. Pushing Fox out of the way, she ran into the house, grabbing Cerise’s keys off the coffee table before anyone could stop her. Isabelle tackled her on the front lawn and held her down.
“You aren’t driving over there drunk!” Isabelle shouted taking the keys from her. “Get in and I’ll drive.”
“Belle, here!” Hamish tossed her holsters. Isabelle caught them and helped Harley into the Porsche. She sped through the streets as fast as she could. Abélard’s Chrysler was out front and Harley charged into the house. Abélard was on the floor of the kitchen weeping as he rocked the red stained body, “I was too late. I was too late.”
Chapter Twenty-One - The Kiss and The Game
Anya woke with the sun despite her exhaustion. Unlike every other night, they had slept in Skazki, she refused to sleep near Yvan. Katya had been right, after everything that Tuoni had said to her, all she wanted to do was to talk to Yvan. However, because of what he said, she felt she couldn’t. Yvan calmed her and at the moment, she was churning inside.
She’d dreamed of her parent’s car crash again. The wolves, her mother’s screams, the dull thunk of her father’s head smashing into the windscreen. Only this time, Anya had also floated out of the car to the top of a small hill in the forest where Baba Yaga calmly watched, smoking a yellow pipe made of old bone. Thinking back to the morning she’d met Tuoni, Anya realised she had dreamed of the crash then too. Even with her magic so terribly underdeveloped, it had been trying to tell her something. She hadn’t known enough to link it all together. Tuoni had been used too, but Anya was having a difficult time feeling sorry for him.
As quietly as she could, Anya got out of her bedroll and took the micro fibre towel from her pack. It was another of Cerise’s touches. The towel was the kind back packers use. They folded down to nothing and dried quickly. She’d given Anya a tiny pouch of travel size toiletries as well, and even though Anya had teased her at the time, she was grateful. After walking through Tuonela, all Anya wanted was a bath, no matter how cold it was going to be.
In Skazki, it had been the middle of winter, but in Karelia, it seemed only to be autumn. Anya had no doubt that as they headed north to Pohjola that the winter would find them again. Careful not to step on any sticks that could make noise, Anya crept from the camp as the sky started to turn pink. It didn’t take Anya long to find the washed up log from the night before. Anya quickly shed her clothes and boots, the prude in her forcing her to leave on her bra and underwear, before heading to where the water was lapping against the black and grey stones. Leaving her towel, soap and shampoo on the water’s edge, she stepped out into the water. It was cold but not cold enough to force her to reconsider. Anya pulled out her hair tie, shook her ashy hair free and dived. Her body screamed in shock, but as she swam, it stopped complaining. She broke the surface gasping for air.
The lake was huge, surrounded by mountains and trimmed in forest. With the sunrise, it was impossibly beautiful. Quite unexpectedly, Anya laughed at the stolen moment. It was places like this that was the reason she would stop Yanka and Baba Yaga’s plans of world domination. Finding her footing on the stony bottom, Anya retrieved her soap and tiny shampoo bottle, scrubbing herself vigorously. It was not until she was about to dip her head back to rinse it that she spotted Yvan sitting on the log watching her. She let out a startled yelp and slipped, going backwards into the water. She scrambled to the surface in a cloud of hair and bubbles. Yvan was nearly doubled over with laughter.
“You asshole!” she said and threw a rock at him, hitting him in the chest.
“I’m sorry, shalosť, really. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“So, what, you woke up and decided to be creepy and watch me bathe?” Anya demanded.
“You still have your clothes on, so I don’t know if I could really be called creepy,” he said in self-defence.
“Well, we can’t all be so flippant with our naked bodies like you and Izrayl,” Anya swam out a little deeper, self-conscious despite the fact she was still technically clothed. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“I woke up and you were gone. In my natural response of panic, I came to make sure you hadn’t been kidnapped or had run away or if you were hurt somewhere.”
“You worry too much, Vanya.”
“You’re always in some kind of trouble, so worrying is natural like I said.”
“As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”
“Yes, you only took off alone in an unknown land so you could go frolic in the water.”
“I needed a wash. Besides, this place is so lovely.” Anya looked around again, “It reminds me of a story.”
“Tell it to me,” Yvan watched her, smiling. She flushed a little though she would blame the chill water if he teased her about it.
“It’s from the Kalevala. Don’t worry I will tell you the abbreviated version. There was a guy called Joukahainen who was young, silly, and full of himself. He challenged Väinämöinen, the greatest shaman and rune singer to a singing contest. Of course, Väinämöinen wiped the floor with him.”
“Naturally,” said Yvan.
“So because Joukahainen lost so badly he has to give his really hot sister to Väinämöinen to have as a wife. But Aino is grossed out and whiney about having to marry an old man even though he’s a magical bad ass. So Aino has a massive tantrum and jumps into a lake to drown herself. Poor Väinämöinen took it pretty badly. If I was he, I would’ve been annoyed too. To have someone rather kill themselves, rather than marry you would be a massive blow to your self-esteem.”
“Then what happened?” asked Yvan.
“She turned into a mermaid, though sometimes people say a fish, and because she’s a huge bitch, she found where Väinämöinen was fishing and mocked him…”
“Anya look!” interrupted Yvan and pointed. The head and shoulders of the woman had lifted out of the surface of the water. She looked at them with startled blue eyes before ducking back under. A tail shone and Yvan hurried quickly to the water’s edge. The tail flicked up again, splashing a wave of water all over him. Anya laughed hysterically as Yvan swore in fierce Russian. Aino popped up next to Anya smirking. Yvan watched as Anya ran a hand through Aino’s head, dissolving the illusion in front of him.
“You little brat! You have to come out of that water sometime and when you do…” he threatened and stopped, as Eldon Blaise appeared clapping loudly.
“Well done, Anyanka! On the story and the illusion. Excellent work.”
“Don’t encourage her.”
“I most certainly will!” Eldon grinned, “She got you good, my boy, and you have the right idea about a swim, Anya. I don’t know about you, but I can taste death in my mouth.” Yvan picked up Anya’s towel for her, discreetly looking away so she wouldn’t be embarrassed as she climbed out. He wrapped it around her and pulled the tip of her dripping hair.
“Don’t think that this means I’ve forgiven you,” he said.
“Yeah, you have, you can’t help it,” she teased. “Whoa, Eldon, cool tattoos.” The Bard had taken his shirt off to reveal a lean body covered in dark blue Celtic spirals and Anya spotted some Latin and a runic script in places.
“Thank you, Anyanka. They all have meanings that I will perhaps tell you about one day.” There was a tree in the centre of his back, the branches dipping down to tangle in knot patterns, and the more Anya looked at it the more she got lost in the pattern. She could see the magic moving in it but couldn’t pinpoint how it was trapped.
Yvan cleared his throat, “You can stop staring now.”
“Oh let her,” Eldon sa
id over one shoulder. “I haven’t had a pretty girl stare at me for a long time.”
“I’ll leave you boys to your bath,” Anya said passing her soap to Yvan.
“I hardly need one, thanks to you,” Yvan huffed.
Anya screwed up her nose, “Yeah, you do.”
“Run, right now, before I throw you back in.” Anya smiled cheekily, before picking up her clothes and making for the woods.
“It still doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you!” he called behind her. Anya giggled to herself. She loved to tease him, but only because she loved to see his serious face break into that smile. Anya sighed happily, as the scent of clean clothes enveloped her. She wrapped her wet hair up in the towel and headed back to the camp.
Everyone was up and Aleksandra was already handing out cups of hot porridge. She was an expert cook on a campfire. Growing up in gypsy camp had given her the skills for it. She was willing and loved to cook, so everyone benefitted from it.
“Don’t you look fresh as a daisy,” Katya commented handing her some breakfast, “and look at that healthy glow. Where’s Yvan?”
“Him and Eldon are swimming,” Anya said, refusing to bite.
“Sounds like a good idea,” said Aramis. “I don’t know about all of you, but I want to get as much Tuonela off me as possible.” He got up and picked up his pack.
“You and Eldon can compare magical tree tattoos.”
“I’m coming too,” said Mychal and took off his shirt. Anya blinked at the scars and muscles a few times before quickly looking away. Katya smirked and looked into her porridge.
“So where’s Izrayl?” Anya asked her and tried not to look up.
“He has gone for a quick scout ahead and will join the others in the water I would say,” she said trying to keep a straight face. They waited until Mychal had walked out of ear shot before they both started laughing.
“Will you two stop it,” Aleksandra rolled her eyes as she sat down next to them.
“I’m sorry. I can’t help it, Aleki. Really, you need to tell him not to do that if you don’t want us staring,” Anya said as she scooped the milky warm porridge into her mouth.
Rise of the Firebird Page 27