by Gaja J. Kos
He laughed, and she felt her whole body shake along with his. She hadn't even realized how tightly he held her, and she suddenly became painfully aware of every detail of his body rubbing against hers. She had to use all her willpower to break away from his entrancing presence, catching her breath as the god observed her, amusement filling his eyes.
He offered her a hand, but she refused. It would have been tempting to wrap herself around his arm; as it was, she couldn't exhaust all her energy reserves to merely fight the crawling urge of tearing away the perfectly slim-fitted black T-shirt off his torso if they continued to touch.
“You know,” Veles began when they started moving closer towards Pri Sojenicah. The tugged corners of his lips alerted Rose that she probably wasn't going to be too pleased with what he had to say. “I didn't think you'd need a ring with that lovely necklace you're wearing.”
Her hand automatically reached for the puncture wounds that now lay in a nicely spaced pattern across both sides of her neck; two pairs of them even dropped below her collarbone, but they were faint since their primary intention was pleasure, not blood.
“Shut up.” She frowned, thinking about how fortunate she was to be wearing long pants that kept the bites on her thighs securely hidden from sight, but her words, as well as her thoughts, were drowned in the warmth of his deep laughter.
It was the perfect time of morning for the regular patrons of Pri Sojenicah to have already drunk their coffee and hurried away to work, leaving the bar deserted and waiting for the next rush hour that usually took place sometime between 10:30 and 11:30.
Tim, Zarja, Mark, Evelin, and the Double J team were already seated at their usual table, dressed in clothes that would offer them ample protection before they shifted, but would strip easily. Since they relied on their claws and teeth, none carried weapons, which made them appear almost as if the meeting wasn't anything more than one of their regulars. Rose, on the other hand, stuck out notably with the small armory Veles had given her, the blade carrying sheaths strapped in strategic places all over her body. The god walked languidly next to her, careful to keep his hand just close enough for it to brush against the outside of her thigh each opportunity he got.
“I know you agreed to keep the more personal side of our acquaintance out of sight, but I didn't think you'd take it literally.” She frowned as his hand moved upward from her thighs, reaching just under her backside. He would have reached higher, but he couldn't do it without bumping the sword she had clad across her back.
He eyed the antique weapon, then shifted his gaze to her. “Still haven't used it, have you?”
There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, a question that lay underneath his words, but one Rose couldn't read. “Haven't gotten the chance.”
“My sword was enough.”
The flicker was gone, and she was left staring at a wide, and very fanged grin.
“You can do better than that; corny doesn't really suit you.” She laughed and ran her fingers down the side of his face, forgetting her own rule for a moment.
She stepped back, fighting the urge to press her body against his and slide her tongue over the tips of his fangs. He shot her an amused look, as if he had suddenly gained the ability to read her mind, and flashed his elongated teeth one final, tempting time. She growled, but couldn't keep the corners of her lips from curling into a smile.
She had barely managed to compose herself before they approached the corner table where the pack had gathered, wrapped in a cocoon of morning chatter. She waved to Frank who was leaning against the doorframe, smoking a well-earned cigarette for surviving the morning rush; the werewolf seemed in a good mood today, probably because he didn't have to growl under his breath at difficult patrons. Those usually came later in the day.
She saw that the pack had taken notice of their arrival, their eyes following Veles as they approached the table. To Rose's surprise, Veles behaved himself, walking casually by her side. They exchanged greetings, the god introducing himself only by name. The werewolves didn't need to know what he was, at least not immediately. And since none of them came from the Mokoš bloodline, they hadn't connected the name to the lord of the underworld. Not yet, at least.
Frank walked over before they had the opportunity to get down to business. He took her order, flashing her a very meaningful smile as his eyes flickered to Veles, then back to her. He knew her too well for her own good. Rose scowled, knowing it would put Frank in an even better mood; a growling laugh spilled out of the werewolf, catching the attention of the rest of the table. Luckily, they hadn't seen at whom Frank had been hinting moments before, but it was too late for Jens and Jürgen not to pick up that it had to do with something Rose wanted to keep quiet.
At least they waited until Frank went away to get her the coffee she’d ordered and desperately needed before jumping on the wagon. She wasn't sure if she could handle three mischievous weres.
“I didn't know you like to cozy up to dead meat.” Jürgen grinned, his eyes shifting from the puncture marks to Rose's eyes and back down again.
She rolled her eyes, wanting to snap back at him, but was cut short by Jens who, naturally, had to join in the conversation. “Where did you even find a fuckvamp?”
“Fuckvamp? Seriously?” She laughed back at Jens's eager face.
“Imported one from the East?” Jürgen beamed at her, his bright blue eyes mischievously shining. “No wonder you always looked so battered in the mornings.”
She noticed Veles had observed the whole conversation without intervening, but not without amusement; Rose didn't delude herself that it was because he didn't have anything to add. No, the god had been enjoying himself far too much to ruin the sensation. He noticed her gaze and smiled at her, turning his head so the whole table could see the lethal, pearl white fangs glistening in the morning sun.
The werewolves fell silent, only a few faint growls echoing around the table as they stared at the still smiling Veles in front of them. Their response wasn't due to being enemies with the vampires like most folktales liked to believe, but because they weren't accustomed to seeing the fanged creatures out in the daylight, at least not in their true, fanged forms.
The vampires weren't truly affected by the sun, but they chose to keep up appearances of not being able to go out during the day for a very pragmatic and sensible reason. It kept them safe; people didn't go around staking neighbors who waved at them as they picked up their morning mail like any mortal person. And although the wider population wasn't producing vampire hate groups, there were individuals who feared or hunted them. And either could result in a vamp's death. Not wanting to take the risk, they never broke their rule, never allowed themselves to act as anything but human during the daylight hours, especially not in the presence of people they couldn't vouch for, and most of them stuck to the rule even after the sun set.
The twentyfourhourlies, as the supernatural community liked to call them, were regular people, aside from being undead. They led ordinary lives, struggled with the same problems the rest of humanity fought on a day-to-day basis. The blood they needed usually came from their spouses, human or undead. Some restaurants and bars even served blood, but those that did went about their business discreetly. Or they hunted in the woods for animals. Especially the latter part made them popular with the werewolves, since joint hunts usually proved to be highly entertaining.
However, there were exceptions to the rule, like with any other. The ones who couldn't, or rather, wouldn't pass for human, confined themselves to the night, living up to the expectations of every fanged horror movie or piece of fantasy literature. They believed walking in the sun was nothing short of blasphemy, and although they remained as unaffected as the twentyfourhourlies, they never left their resting places during the day. The supernatural community was glad for their stubbornness, since no living or undead being wanted to see them prowling the sunlit streets.
“Veles isn't a vamp,” Rose said, feeling the need to say something to calm the pack do
wn, even if she wasn't sure the words that came out of her mouth were the truth; she never did come around to asking him about the elongated canines.
Veles brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, his fangs slowly retracting as he turned to face the quiet werewolves.
“It's true. I'm not dead meat.” He shot Jürgen a wicked smile that would probably send a sensible being running the other way, but all the blond werewolf did was erupt in laughter.
Rose turned her gaze from one to the other. She should have realized it sooner—the Double J team and Veles were nothing short of a perfect match. Self-assured, good looking, and with a long list of past and very fleeting partners who practically fell at their feet. The only difference was in how they worked their charm; where Jens and Jürgen were goofy and sometimes even childish, Veles was nothing but smooth, with a dash of dangerous.
They should have stopped kidding around and focused on the more serious matter that was the cause of their meeting, but they also knew they needed the humor to survive. It wasn't merely a case of the more morbid things getting to you otherwise; humor tended to wipe away excess tension, and excess tension was usually the main cause of clouded judgment that more often than not got you killed.
Zarja seemed more reserved as she gazed from the obviously satisfied god to Rose, but the smile that slowly crept along her lips made it clear there was no resentment between them. If anything, she looked slightly amused by her choice of partner.
“Can we get down to business now?” Rose asked, trying to contain the snickering sounds encircling the table.
“Oh, I'm sure you like to get down.” Jürgen almost choked on his own laughter; tears appeared in the corners of his eyes and fell down his sun-kissed cheeks.
“She's very efficient at it.” Veles chuckled, his smooth voice only emphasizing his words.
The whole pack erupted with laughter. Rose even noticed Frank snickering as he approached them with her coffee in his hands; if he wasn't as skilled at running a bar as he was, the coffee would have undoubtedly spilled across the floor.
“Don't mind them. If you're good at something, you should grab it with both of your hands and ride the wave of victory.” Frank's green and hazel eyes gleamed as he spoke, barely holding back the violent laughter threatening to escape him.
“You're all a bunch of idiots.” Rose shook her head, smiling. “Now can we get down to business? Veles can vouch we've already finished ours.”
Hoots echoed around the table, followed by more hearty laughter that slowly died down. They had vented enough, and as pleasurable as it was to joke around, they all knew they had gathered for a very different reason. Frank sensed they had pack matters to attend to and calmly retreated to his post by the door, a cigarette already between his fingers.
Veles was the first to speak. “I know where some of the killers are.”
Everybody fell silent. The bluntness of the statement struck them; their eyes held questions, but no one wanted to speak. Rose knew the feeling. When Veles had told her of a few new confused arrivals into his realm, her reaction had been practically identical. The new souls carried more information with them, information which Veles didn't even have to try hard to obtain. Only a very basic level of confusion clouded it, like a thin sheet laid across a stack of books. He visited the place of their passing, expecting to find another cleaned out area, but instead found himself in the middle of the enemy's camp. Shielded by his glamor, which–as Rose found out –could make him invisible even to the eyes of most beings belonging to the supernatural community, he went unnoticed, but since even his power had limits, and testing them certainly wasn't something he wished to do in the given situation, he hadn't remained for longer than absolutely necessary.
“If you bring along your brother”—he turned to Tim—“he may have the chance to examine some of the victims.”
Rose had told Veles Tim would never go for it, that he would never endanger his brother willingly. It didn't take them long to come up with a different solution, a much safer solution, but Veles insisted he should at least ask, and let the decision be Tim's.
“Didn't you say the killers were there?” Tim raised his eyebrow, not wanting to bring Nathaniel into any life-threatening situations.
“Yes. But you are The Dark Ones, after all. You can take them.”
Tim didn't flinch, his gaze still fixed on Veles.
“What are you?” he asked, his words calm but quiet.
“I'm the one your souls will spend eternity with.”
Rose could feel the tension spreading through the werewolves, their eyes focused on the dark-haired god, who didn't seem to mind the attention.
“You're fucking the lord of the underworld?” Jens gasped, part shock, part admiration.
It was exactly the comment they needed to snap them out of the strained mood that had crept up upon them; dealing with immortals had that effect on the supernatural community. Rose nodded, flashing Jens a soft smile.
“I think you win the fuck-chart,” Jürgen murmured, referring to the lifelong competition he had designed for the weres in which they would compete for who had managed to drag the most badass person into their bed. He intended for them to compare notes when they would all hit their ninetieth year, because even Jens agreed his sex appeal would probably be a bit lower at that age, which meant they couldn't reach any higher than they already had.
Rose grinned. “I expect my victorious pitcher of beer when we get back from slashing the bad guys apart.”
Jürgen extended his hand across the table, the expression on his face a mixture of respect and defeat; Rose took it without hesitation. “Deal.”
“If I can continue.” Veles's words had an air of seriousness in them, however the smile in the corners of his lips spoke of his amusement. “With the souls I had examined before this particular batch, the cavern where they had been slaughtered had been cleaned out before I even managed to get to it.”
“You're saying this is too easy?” Mark asked, the underlying essence of his warrior nature surfacing in the deep brown of his eyes.
Veles flashed a vicious smile. “It's a trap, but we're going.”
Chapter 21
Veles had warned Rose over the quick breakfast they shared before meeting up with the rest of the weres that when he ripped the toxin from the souls, whoever had engineered it must have taken notice. The god's words hadn't exactly surprised her; since the vile liquid did have some living qualities to it, it must have been aware of the separation. And if the link between the toxin and its maker was active even after it had been injected, the maker would without a doubt have sensed Veles's actions.
“The location was embedded in the souls so that I would find it,” Veles said to the pack of weres, leaving out as much information pertaining to the immortal world as he could. Rose's knowledge about it sufficed, and she had his permission to share it if the need for detail arose. “I believe it's safe to say they know of our little collaboration. Now, I can't say for certain why they want to lure you, lure us, out, but since I've been around for a very long time, it has undoubtedly something to do with getting rid of the threat as soon as possible. As it always does...”
His voice was calm, but Rose could sense the power surging within him. Veles wasn't pleased with the idea of even seemingly playing by the enemy's rules, but being aware that they were walking into a trap offered at least some advantage. Besides, it was the only lead they had, and it even held the possibility of finally knowing whom they were facing.
“So they want to wipe us out before we can cause any damage?” Tim asked, a lethal determination clinging to his words, the real question lingering underneath, unspoken.
“What have we done so far to disrupt their plans?” Evelin crossed her hands, her emerald eyes reducing to straight slits. “We only came in after the carnage.”
“Whatever it is they plan, they clearly want you to be nowhere but in my realm when it happens.” Veles sighed and knitted his eyebrows tightly toget
her. “You may think of yourselves as Black werewolves, but never forget that you are The Dark Ones. You may not have had the need to exercise the full extent of your strength yet. However, it doesn't mean you don't carry it within you. And even someone as powerful as the person who engineered the toxin has reason to fear that strength.”
“But what you're talking about is only cold calculation combined with brute strength,” Mark said, his voice deepened into a growl. “The fucker has produced something that killed immortals, caused werewolves who weren't supposed to shift to do exactly that. What the fuck has he to fear?”
“The Dark Ones' thirst for blood. Your savagery.”
They all looked at Veles, even Rose turned to face him.
“You're saying we're ruthless enough to evoke such fear?” she asked, her eyes locked on the green embers spiking in the god's irises.
“A pack of Black werewolves could tear the world apart, if they chose to do so.” His voice was calm, almost distant. “I would have a lot of souls on my hands if you decided to travel down a darker path.”
“But we're still only werewolves.” Jens's words came out as a whisper.
Veles turned his gaze to him, taking a deep breath before speaking. “With a mind capable of premeditated viciousness. You may not be invincible, but you would be damn hard to stop if working as a pack. Even if the opposing party managed to slaughter all of you, there would be casualties on their side, possibly more than they're willing to sacrifice.”
“Tell me.” He turned to Evelin, in his voice the typical sleek smoothness, but it possessed an edge of some deeper understanding, too. “If you found whoever murdered the White werewolves, wouldn't you tear them apart piece by piece and revel in their pain?”
Mark outstretched his hand, reaching for Evelin's shoulder. She didn't react to the touch but merely kept her eyes focused on Veles. “Yes. I would.”
Rose could tell there was something bigger behind the exchange. The werewolf's emerald stare had given it away, but she let it go. Veles seemed to know what he was doing, and she chose to trust him.