by Gaja J. Kos
Three words. Three damning words were what her existence had been brought to.
“I...I murdered Damir.”
Chapter 45
“Does your energy still carry olive embers, Rosalind?” Veles asked, keeping his distance from the bed on which Rose sat, hunched over and sobbing quietly.
She lifted her head, pushing the cascading strands of hair away from her face. She knitted her eyebrows together in thought, then nodded slowly. The olive embers had become as much a part of her power as the golden light; they had become such a consistent presence that she had stopped paying them much attention but instead accepted them as they were. A trickle of Veles etched into her power.
A long exhale cut through the silence. She raised her eyes, a different pain now anchoring in her chest as she observed the god, his back perfectly straight and stiff.
Veles closed his eyes for a long moment, his jaw clenched tightly. There were no markers of the sultry lord of the underworld left, no traces of the warm man who gazed at her like she was the wildest, most carefully guarded figment of his imagination come to life.
Instead, all Rose saw was sorrow.
Eternal, immortal sorrow.
“Veles?” she said in a faint voice, but even her whispers seemed too loud, too robust to be let into the fragile atmosphere.
The god's eyes were glistening pools of green, the black color of his thick eyelashes even more profound as they carried a thin layer of tears the god hadn't allowed to fall.
“It was me.”
Rose crawled over to the edge of the bed, her heart breaking anew with every inch of ground she covered. Veles flinched at the proximity, sliding his chair farther away against the wardrobe to keep some space between them. The profound sadness resting on his face deepened the olive hue of his eyes and tightened the strong line of his jaw.
She tried to reach for him, but Veles shook his head. “Please don't.”
Her hand dropped down on the bed.
She had seen him vulnerable, had seen his compassion, his care for souls bring the kind of pain upon him that anchors deep inside a person, that roots itself in the very core of one’s being. Yet those difficulties had never broken him.
Not until now.
“Veles,” she said, his name becoming the caress she couldn't offer physically.
The god took a long breath, and a helpless laugh escaped his lips as he pushed back the tears and met her gaze.
“After Mark informed me of what had transpired at the hospital, I sought out Sebastian's consult,” he began, the words bitter. “My father had never told me that vampiric souls possessed the ability to cross—that they were nestled in the embrace of the underworld. But Sebastian had known. In many ways, the Kresnik knew my father better than I did.
“That being said, I do not believe it was a play on Velin's part to withhold information. More likely it had taken time before the first of my...children...met their death, and by then my father had been preoccupied with Psoglav's gluttony for flesh and power. And you know well enough what happened afterwards... With Sebastian's revelation, it became clear that although I am blind to their presence, my powers can and do influence vampiric souls. They fall under my reign just like any other. And yet they are so very much unlike the rest.
“They are not undead or some kind of re-animated corpses; such a foolish perception the human minds concocted to explain what they feared and failed to understand. Yet the thought does hold some truth. With my power implemented in their core, they are fundamentally linked to me. And as such, linked to the state of death itself.”
Rose's chest was rising and falling in deep breaths as she listened to Veles's recollection. She knew what the god was saying but found herself unable to speak.
The vampires were beings of the Earth, yet carried such a primal connection to death, to the eternal light that follows.
She knew where their living souls dwelled.
“The land you have discovered harbors those who pertain a bond with the earthly realm,” Veles continued. “I will not pretend to know if the ethereal pouch was created as a result of the vampiric race, or if it had been merely a fitting place to accommodate the new, different souls. But either way, the small world in which you reign had become their home.”
Rose nodded silently; she had realized as much during Dragan's cries of terror. Somehow, she had plucked the vampire from the place to which he had been tethered when she had entered his soul. And nearly succeeded in giving him over to Veles. Just like she had, although unknowingly, done to Damir.
Yet none of that explained why the lord of the underworld felt that he was to blame.
She fought the discomfort that had wrapped around her throat, cold, sweaty claws digging into her skin, and began to speak. “But, Veles, if all of this is true... If the spirits of vampires truly reside in the ethereal pouch, my ethereal pouch, then I am the only one to blame. The small world is coded to me, to my energy—as well as the souls I'm able to see and carry over. They are my wards, my own to reach. And if I had been unable to differentiate between the spirits of the departed and of those who still live, there is no one to blame for what happened to Damir and Dragan but me.”
Her voice was hoarse by the time she managed to push the final words from her lips. And as she observed the tense mask Veles's features had turned into, she realized she was ready to accept the consequences of her ignorance.
In her twenty-four years, she had taken many lives, too many to keep count and not a single one that would weigh on her conscious. Yet there were those she had failed to save, even if it truly hadn't been in her power to do otherwise. Like the White pack in the Czech Republic that had been slaughtered by the demonic vetalas and their leader.
And very much like with those victims, Rose would need to live with Damir's name permanently etched on her mind, a daily reminder that her heedlessness had taken an innocent life.
But she would do it.
Seeing her consort wither from blaming himself for something that wasn't his fault... She understood Veles's line of thinking. Somehow failing to know that vampiric souls could cross over, and failing to achieve the impossible task of teaching Rose everything, the lord of the underworld felt responsible.
It was a foolish, lover's notion to spare her, even though Veles was accomplishing nothing by it, except destroying himself in the process. He shouldn’t live with the guilt that wasn’t his own.
“Olive embers, Rosalind,” was all he said.
She sat in silence, letting Veles's words sink in. No. She shifted her body forward, fighting the uneasy sensation rising in her stomach. “You think your energy is responsible?”
The room had grown dimmer as they talked, the single lit lamp illuminating the hardened expression on Veles's face. And the devastating resignation written in those lines.
“I don't think. I know,” he replied coolly. “Do you remember what I told you that night in front of Pri Sojenicah? When I learned what your powers truly meant?”
She hadn't forgotten. How could she? Veles's soft voice, the admiration in his eyes as he spoke those words, they were her constant companion.
You have an affinity for the living side of death, Rosalind.
Her heart sank.
“No,” she breathed, refusing to accept what the dark-haired god wanted her to acknowledge. But any arguments she might have released from her lips were drowned by a single thought.
That Veles was right.
“Your energy is of the Earth. And although you may aid those who are stuck between existences, you cannot take a soul, srček. That power is mine, and mine alone.”
He tilted his chin up, gazing at the ceiling. Rose remained silent.
There was nothing she could say to convince him otherwise, nothing to offer even the slightest consolation.
Finally, the god lowered his gaze, a gaze filled with agony, but even more so, filled with remorse.
“Your energy can be pure again,” he breathed, his words ca
rrying some silent resolve she couldn't understand. “The remnants of my power will diminish over time. But...”
“But?” she managed to echo, her voice on the verge of cracking.
“But you cannot be with me, Rosalind.”
Pain shot through her chest.
She tried to breathe, but burning talons ripped at her lungs. She steadied herself on the bed, fighting as her body tried to shut down, tried to protect her.
“Srček, please don't...” Veles's voice washed over her like a phantom caress.
A hint of rage sparkled inside her, and she held on to it, willing it to grow over the heartache.
“Don't you dare,” she hissed, her fingernails elongating into claws that tore into the linen. “Don't push me away, Veles. Not without trying. I will work with Dr. Xu every Chernobog-damned day if I have to. His therapies have already lessened the volume of those flames... For fuck's sake, I'll abstain from transporting souls until the situation is under control. We can get through this together. I know we can't fix what happened, but we can make sure it won't happen again—we can make sure we won't break beneath the guilt, that there is hope, even for us. Just don't push me away. Please, please don't push me away.”
The small amount of determination that Rose had been holding on to broke when Veles merely shook his head, the black strands swinging solemnly across the sides of his face and back.
“This is something I must do on my own.” He spoke distantly, before turning his gaze back to her. “I need you to trust me, Rosalind. I’m not good for you... I'm afraid my power will continue to fuel those flames with each physical contact we have. And, Rosalind, you can't abandon those souls forever. They need you. And you need to surround yourself with people of the Earth, with the pure energy of life they possess.”
A faint attempt at a half smile tugged at his lips, but his gaze held the truth. Rose's heart broke all over again.
“Live your life, Rosalind. Be with that charming Koldunya that is so clearly infatuated with you. And maybe, once, we will meet again.”
She sat on the bed, her shoulders slumped and her mind racing with a thousand things she wished to say. Yet she stayed quiet. The resolve in his eyes had destroyed every last piece of her until nothing but a shell remained. And she knew that all she would be left with were unspoken affections that would haunt her for years to come.
She wished she could tell him one final time that she loved him. That she loved those fanged smiles he kept only for her; that she loved the way his hair came down when he leaned over her body to capture her lips with his as she lay beneath him, feeling wanted, cherished, safe.
She wanted to scream that she always thought the concept of soul mates was foolish, but that she was the foolish one for not believing in it, because that is exactly what Veles was to her. She wanted him to know that he had given her a sense of home, given her the sensation of truly wanting to share every aspect of her life with another human being, and that when she died, she wanted his name to be the lullaby on her lips and their life together the final images that would lull her to her everlasting sleep.
But Veles would never know.
Something inside her had broken so fundamentally that each word she tried to release suffocated in her throat.
And Rose suffocated with it.
A gentle brush of Veles's fingertips lifted her chin. She hadn't even heard the god move. He was standing so painfully close, his perfect features staring down at her as she shivered on the bed, her body giving out on her.
His lips touched hers in a chaste kiss.
“I love you, Rosalind,” he whispered and dissolved into air.
Epilogue
The day was mild, a hint of spring seeping through the fresh air. And even the relentless gray skies cleared over Ljubljana, making the day almost too bright for Rose’s mood. She closed her eyes, letting the breeze brush against her skin.
She could hear the familiar chatter coming from the backyard, but for the first time, it failed to produce a warming sensation. The abyss inside her remained chilled, its blackness tainting every inch of her being.
She sighed. It was a mistake to come here. She wasn’t ready. The thoughts of curling underneath the covers almost won her over, her legs burning with the need to turn around and haul herself back home while she hadn’t been spotted.
But a streak of stubbornness prevented her from moving; she had been hiding in her apartment for long enough, leaving its walls only to obtain a new batch of food and additional bottles of wine.
No, two weeks of cowering and self-pity had been enough.
Knocking on the door, she exhaled and willed all the negative thoughts to disperse from her mind. Or at least lower their volume to a bearable level. Footsteps approached, and by their altered weight, she knew who she’d see on the other side.
A well-rounded Evelin beamed at her with one hand casually resting on the massive doorframe, her emerald eyes warm as she invited Rose inside. She managed to return a weak smile, but at least her effort was sincere. She handed Evelin the small bag of goods she had kept hidden behind her back, a few knickknacks for the moving-in party the dark-haired were had thrown. Evelin peered inside, a grin stretching across her face.
She retrieved a silver amulet from the bag, large enough to be mounted on a wall. The star symbol of the goddess Lada shone as it rested in Evelin’s hands, its surface emitting a gentle current of magic.
“I asked Serafina to add a little extra spice to it.” Rose smiled, her own spirits lifted by Evelin’s gleaming response. “So that your love may be eternal even by the gods.”
“Thank you,” Evelin whispered, throwing her arms around Rose’s neck in an attempt at a tight embrace but only succeeded in bumping against her with her belly.
Rose chuckled as Evelin swore, gazing lovingly down at her rounded stomach.
“Soon, huh?” Rose asked.
The minutest amount of fear showed on Evelin’s features, yet quickly transformed into nothing but eager anticipation. “So soon that I can barely believe it. That’s why I wanted to throw the moving-in party early... With two cubs to take care of, I don’t know how big I’ll be on partying in the next few months. Unless you count growling at everybody and trying to bite their heads off a party.”
She gave an apologetic shrug and motioned Rose to follow her through the house and into the backyard.
A trace of a snicker grew inside Rose. That would certainly be a party.
And with that thought in her mind, each footstep felt lighter.
Perhaps—perhaps with time, it would become bearable.
Just before they reached the patio, Evelin stopped, her hand gently wrapping around Rose’s.
“How are you coping?” she asked in soft voice that wouldn’t carry past the threshold.
“I don’t even know if I am coping... But this is a start.” Rose managed a small smile as she swung her hand in a wide arc, motioning to the outside. “I guess I’ll just wing it to the best of my abilities.”
Evelin squeezed her hand, offering Rose her unobtrusive compassion. And although Rose had expected her pack would be nothing but supportive, she was nonetheless grateful for the silent gesture. And for the realization growing within her that, maybe, she had spoken the truth.
Much to her surprise, there had been moments when Rose was able to enjoy herself, squeezing next to Frank on the wooden bench. And somehow, she hadn’t noticed the time pass until the day took on a somber hue, and her stomach was pleasantly full with the roasted meat they had eaten. Devoured was probably a better word for the feast they’d had.
The pack had been wrapped in their usual carefree chatter with Frank’s typical comments coaxing several outbursts of laughter. Even Rose found herself chuckling on more than just one occasion, flashing her canine teeth at the cheerful werewolf or bumping their shoulders together so hard she felt a bruise blossoming beneath her jacket.
Yet she couldn’t relax completely.
During the five or so
hours, she had been vigilant to keep her distance from Katja. Although the vampire hadn’t displayed any animosity towards Rose, she felt an unquenchable need to make her presence as small as possible in Katja’s company.
The horror of what she had unknowingly done continued to gnaw at the back of her mind, and as much as she tried, she couldn’t comprehend why the charming vampire even tolerated her proximity.
As the afternoon turned to evening and the traces of winter began to chill the otherwise mild currents of wind, the party decided to move inside the freshly renovated house. Rose motioned that she’d join them later, and strolled over to the edge of the yard, lighting a cigarette in solitude.
Despite the normality of the afternoon, she had felt disconnected. Broken.
With the consequences of her power as well as the aching absence of Veles still carved into every breath she tried to take, Rose stared at the display of untamed nature in the distance.
The trees swayed languidly with the wind, beautiful, powerful, and whole. So very much unlike the wreckage she had become. Merely a shadow of her past self remained, and even that was a generous name to call the shell in which she now dwelled and existed purely for the means of existing.
Lost in thought, she failed to hear the footsteps coming up behind her back.
“Rose,” a voice called out softly. “Do you mind if I join you?”
She recognized the voice, that melodic, polished voice. And her stomach sank. She turned around slowly, taking in the careful stance, the neatly waved hair that fell across the woman’s shoulders and down her light trench coat.
Finally, Rose nodded.
Katja came to stand by her side, keeping a safe distance away. In consideration. For her. Rose bit her lip.
“I’m not afraid of you, Rose.” The vampire spoke in a steady voice, her easy heartbeat revealing that she meant it, too.
Rose closed her eyes, willing the tears to clear.
“And I don’t blame you for what happened to Damir...”
With a silent exhale, Rose lifted her gaze and was met by Katja’s determined stare. The vampire moved closer, slowly, as if she had been afraid any sudden movement might cause Rose to recoil.