Viktoria's Shadow: Jael

by Ysobella Black

  Dream wiggled out of his arms, though he held her steady. Memory’s fingers brushed his arm as she came to her sister's aid. A fleeting, agonizing knife of pain in his head nearly drove him to his knees as a memory flashed to the surface, but receded before he recognized it properly, leaving a faint buzz in his mind.

  Memory stared at him, her mouth in an 'O' that turned into a grin. “Come on, Dream.” The two of them made their way toward Viktoria. Dream bent her head near Memory’s, and in spite of her quiet murmur, his vampire hearing picked up the words, “What happened?”

  “Later.” Memory directed their steps and put a hand on Viktoria’s arm when the sisters met.

  Viktoria stiffened like she’d received a shock. She pulled away from a now outright grinning Memory. “You two need to stop.”

  “What did we do now?” Dream asked.

  “Later,” Memory repeated, leading Dream away.

  His Dragă once again attempted to murder him with a look.

  He met Viktoria’s icy blue eyes. She was ethereally beautiful when she was calm, but in a fight or angry with him, she was more magnificent. A goddess he’d willingly let slay him. “You’re my Dragă and my intentions are to do what I must to protect you. That’s how it’s going to be.”

  “I am not your anything.” But she didn’t sound so positive this time. “Don’t let me catch you near me again.”

  “Or what?” Why couldn’t he stop pushing her?

  “Or you’ll get to live in the shadows you think you own. I’ll put you in one so deep, just dark would be a relief.” Those ominous words delivered, she spun and followed her sisters.

  Her threat was a good one and maybe should have worried a man, but the assassin in him liked to live dangerously, and the vampire in him accepted that challenge. “See you soon, my Dragă.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  VIKTORIA

  GRIPPING THE STEERING wheel, Viktoria willed herself to calm down enough to drive. Coming off the high of the fight against the spiders, then the argument with Lurky, had her shaking.

  Selene was asleep when they woke, so Viktoria had been saved from the embarrassing need to explain why she was fleeing the vampire house. No small mercy.

  “What is it, Shadow?” Dream asked. “Are you mad at me? I saw the way he was in your dream —”

  Viktoria sighed. “I’m not mad at you, Dream. But that’s all it was, just a dream. You saw how he is, like everyone else who thinks we’re mindless and need to be saved.”

  “I thought you were going to strangle him with shadows!” Memory bounced in her seat. “I’ve never seen you so angry before. But he deserved it. You killed more of those spiders than all of them put together.”

  “And you saw how that mattered not at all.” Viktoria started the car and drove away from the vampire’s house. “I think I’m going to leave Port Storm. With so many vampires around, and now that they’re aware of me, there’s bound to be trouble. I just have to do one more thing, first.”

  “But you love it here.” Dream put her hand on Viktoria’s leg.

  “It’s just a place, Dream,” Viktoria said. “I’ll find a new one. It’s not like I haven’t had to do it before.” She stopped the car as the gate at the end of the driveway remained closed.

  Please let me out, Soră.

  Soră. Don’t go. Her voice was subdued, the sadness in it dissolving Viktoria’s anger at Lurky.

  I have to leave so I can help Musette.

  You’ll come back?

  Yes. I’ll come back. Maybe only one more time to say goodbye, but she would come back.

  The gate opened and Viktoria drove through.

  Memory tapped Viktoria’s shoulder and held out her hand for the cell phone. “Tell us how you met Ember and Musette, Shadow.”

  “It turns out, we have the same taste in sunrises.”

  VIKTORIA PARKED HER car in the visitors’ lot of Talol National Park, collected her backpack and hiked through the evergreens and chilly predawn air. The area provided a wealth of landscapes and shadows to choose from, but her favorite place was a natural bridge that used to span the valley. The far side crumbled away ages ago, but the remaining precipice offered views of the river below and the glacier rimmed volcano above.

  She made herself comfortable and drew rapidly, trying to capture the interplay between light and shadow. Her control over shadows allowed her to pause them, but the light cared nothing for her desires and frustrated her.

  “I can’t believe you put your mouth all over my pair of big, fluffy marshmallows, Gingerbread Head.”

  Motion paused with charcoal in mid-stroke over her sketch pad, Viktoria turned to see who was coming to her favorite place.

  “Licking your fluffy marshmallows was the only way to get you out of bed.”

  Viktoria stifled a snort.

  Two women dressed in jeans, boots, and warm jackets rounded a bend in the trail and came to a halt. The blonde wore pink and clutched a stuffed owl to her chest, while the redhead, clad in black, carried camera equipment.

  Sisters.

  Twins.

  The golden-haired one flushed. “Mortimer, attack!” She smacked her sister in the face with the owl without needing to look. “Damn it, Gingerbread Head. Now you made me talk about my fluffy marshmallows in front of a stranger! And you made it sound dirty!”

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Goldilocks.” The redhead smirked, as unphased by the bird attack as the stuffed owl. “Any girl would have been proud of that pair of marshmallows. So firm, yet soft after some attention from my tongue —”

  “Gingerbread Head!” The blonde’s scandalized flush deepened to a spectacular red, and she covered her face with a hand, peeking at Viktoria from between two fingers. “You understand she’s talking about actual marshmallows, don’t you? They weren’t my... it wasn’t like... they were real marshmallows!”

  The redhead laughed. She didn’t even try to hold it in, but even as she laughed at her twin, Gingerbread Head watched Viktoria, daring her to mock Goldilocks.

  The interaction between the twins made Viktoria’s heart ache for her sisters. Teasing that would be forgiven. Biting words that didn’t really hurt. The knowledge there would always be someone on her side, no matter what. Inside jokes and wordless gestures full of meaning.

  To Viktoria’s horror, tears threatened to fall. She had years left before her sisters were free. If she didn’t fail them. She forced her lips into a smile. “Of course they were real marshmallows. Sisters are terrors, aren’t they?”

  “Yes!” Goldilocks dropped her hand from her face and jabbed a purple-painted fingernail dangerously close to Gingerbread Head’s dark green eye. “You are a terror!”

  “I’m Ember.” The redhead stepped forward and offered a hand to shake. “Do you mind if I take some photos? We can be quiet, even though we’ve given you no reason to think so.”

  “Viktoria. And please, feel free to stay and make as much noise as you like. I don't mind.”

  “Where are you from? I’m Musette, by the way.”

  Viktoria dodged the question. She rarely interacted with humans so closely, but Ember and Musette offered her a chance to be with sisters. “I live in Port Storm. What about you?”

  “We live in Port Storm, too.” Musette sat down and leaned against a tree trunk near Viktoria. “I know we just met, but I have a feeling we’re going to be grand friends.”

  Ember stopped changing lenses on her camera and stared at her twin, green eyes wide. “You mean you don’t foresee a global disaster?”

  “Shut up, Gingerbread Head.” Musette yawned. “It isn’t natural for people to be awake right now.”

  “Ah, you’re a Yökyöpeli. Night owls sleep the day away.”

  “So do vampires,” Ember muttered, without looking up this time.

  Viktoria stiffened. Did the twins know about the Other World? They didn’t feel Other Worldly.

  “I’d think she was one, except Musette loves to eat garlic bread.”
>
  Ah, just popular culture. They probably thought vampires sparkled and attended high school while they fell in love with teenage girls.

  Like vampires could love anyone.

  “I do like garlic bread, but it’s not my favorite.” Musette reached into her jacket pocket and removed an orange packet. She waggled it at Ember, then turned away and smiled at Viktoria. “Do you like peanut butter cups?”

  “Now I know she’s your friend. She doesn’t share chocolate with just anybody.” Ember held a camera up to her eye. “Have you seen the wolves that live across the valley?”

  Viktoria nodded. “In Suomi we call wolves Susi — useless things. They are numerous and drive the bears out of their own territory.”

  “Susi sounds like sushi.” Musette laughed and offered the opened package to Viktoria.

  She accepted the proffered snack. “That is another definition of the word, but I think you are an olla pullahiiri — a bun mouse who likes sweets.”

  Musette closed her eyes in rapture as she bit into her candy. “I totally am.”

  Ember whirled, held a finger to her lips to keep Viktoria quiet, and snapped a photo of her twin. “The park has the same problem with strix owls chasing the spotted owls out of their homes, and they reproduce faster.”

  “Nobody’s going to chase Mortimer Aloysius III away.”

  “Anybody hurts Mortimer Aloysius III and I will punch them right in the nose, Goldilocks.”

  “Sometimes you’re okay, Gingerbread Head.”

  For the next few hours, Ember took photographs and displayed them on a laptop connected to her camera. Viktoria never had any luck with photography, but even she could see Ember had a gift for capturing light.

  “Your photos are wonderful. Have you ever shown any of them?”

  “I’ve sold some to magazines and online, but that’s it.”

  “My friend Michel owns an art gallery downtown. I bet he’d love to exhibit your work. Maybe we could do a showing together.”

  “AND THAT’S HOW WE MET.” Viktoria turned left to head downtown rather than to her house.

  “Awww.” Dream laid her head on Viktoria’s shoulder. “They were your sisters when we couldn’t be around for you.”

  “What one thing do you need to do?” Memory asked.

  “I want to make sure things are safe here for Ember and Musette. They won’t leave because of the vampires, but I think I met one of the men who did that to Musette. The note Michel gave me this morning was from a guy who came to the gallery show I had with Ember, pretending to be Musette’s friend, and said he was looking for her. He must have been one of them who took her to sell to mages.”

  “But can’t the vampires do that?”

  They could. But Ember and Musette were sisters, and sisters were important. She’d been forced apart from her own for so long, Viktoria would do anything to make sure sisters could stay together.

  “Not in this case. I’m going to weave a web of my own, and vampires make terrible bait.” It was up to her to catch the mage, and Thomax could lead her straight to him. “Never mind all that for now. Let’s go shopping and buy you two phones and clothes and whatever else you’d like for as long as you can stay here. When we get home, we’ll wear pajamas and binge watch mindless TV shows online, and eat pizza and ice cream all night.”

  “Pizza and ice cream sound good. Just no squeaky cheese, pickled herring, or salmon soup.” Dream threw her arms around Viktoria’s neck. “You’re the best sister, and this is going to be the best day ever!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  JAEL

  VIKTORIA’S VANILLA scent changed from delicate to something sharp, like shards of glass that would cut him like she’d shredded the spiders. The shadowy part of her scent was no longer cool. It smelled empty, like the abyss she threatened to lose him in, and that’s all he was left with when she and her sisters disappeared, leaving him in a memory.

  CONCEALED BY AUTUMN foliage, Jael perched on a wide tree branch and studied the target of his hunt.

  Bashaa.

  Sitting at a table in front of a fireplace. Well-fed. Healthy. Warm. Alive.

  Unlike Jael’s family.

  Rage colored his vision red. The years since the devastation had treated Bashaa well. Pleasant home. Nutritious food. Rich clothes.

  Bashaa had grown up in the village. Was friends with Jael from when they were boys. The only disagreement between them a friendly rivalry over a girl. The marriage arranged between her family and Jael’s hadn’t been his idea. Was that all it took to merit the betrayal Bashaa had visited on the entire village? On all the tribes?

  Faba hadn’t deserved to die for choosing Jael. Guilt ate at him. While he’d cared for her, he hadn’t loved her. His parents said love would come eventually, but it hadn’t for him. His daughter, though, had been everything to him. She hadn’t deserved to die at all. He closed his eyes. The white fire that had forged his soul into cold steel burned bright behind his eyelids. The image remained when he opened his eyes a moment later, outlining Bashaa.

  Jael blinked and settled in to wait, body relaxing against the trunk. Bashaa lived alone. Or he remained alone tonight. No one came or went in the hours Jael watched from the tree. The traitor went to bed and slept the sleep of a man with no conscience.

  The lock on the door proved no obstacle, and Jael searched the house, moving room to room silently. Drawings of symbols he didn’t recognize made him catch his breath. What were they? Mage spells? He folded them and tucked them into a pocket, adding some maps as well — Dacia. Kurufaba. Cymru. Albion. Ellada. Places the mages planned to go?

  He mounted the wooden stairs and entered Bashaa’s bedroom to stand over the betrayer. Four years of training to fight monsters taught Jael to keep his emotions closed off, but it was all he could do not to drive his swords right through Bashaa’s heart. Punch two holes straight through it to match Jael’s.

  Unsheathing his scimitars, he crossed them at Bashaa’s neck and pressed so the points dented the pillows. Then, because waking up to a whisper was so much more terrifying than waking up to a yell, he leaned close and whispered,“Bashaa.”

  The man’s eyes opened, and he moved to sit up.

  “I wouldn’t recommend that.”

  Bashaa’s eyes widened, and his hands flew to the blades pinning his neck. He hissed and yanked his fingers away just as fast, but not fast enough to avoid cutting himself.

  “I wouldn’t recommend that, either.”

  “Jael? What do you want?”

  “Information. I’m sure you can guess what I’m curious about.”

  “I didn’t know! I didn’t know what would happen.”

  “I don’t care. I want to know who. Who burned the village? Who ordered it?” He had other questions. Why? Why the betrayal? Why the aggression? How could he live with what he’d done?

  Bashaa’s silence enraged Jael. He smashed the pommel of a sword into Bashaa's nose, producing a satisfying crunch. “Tell me! The murders eight years ago. Who ordered them?”

  “Ubus!”

  “Is Ubus a mage?”

  Bashaa wept.

  That was answer enough, as far as Jael was concerned.

  “Did you know... the best way to terrorize someone is to start small...” He flicked his sword to open a small slice on Bashaa’s upper arm. Jael kept his swords too sharp for this to be effective at first. His victims rarely felt the initial cuts.

  Bashaa wasn’t any different. He gaped at Jael in stupid triumph until blood welled from the nick.

  Jael spun his swords in his hands. “... and build. The most cuts I’ve managed to carve into someone so far is two hundred and seventy-eight. What do you think? Are you still the competitive type? I know about mages now. Where is the one who ordered the village burned?”

  “He’ll kill me if I tell you!”

  “I’ll do a lot worse for a long time, then kill you when I’m done if you don’t.”

  “You’re no murderer.”

&nbs
p; “Unfortunately for you, that is false. We all have you to thank for things changing.”

  “I don’t know where the mage is.”

  “Perhaps that is true. I don’t think so, but you know where someone is. All you have to do is give me the name and location of one man I haven’t already crossed off my list. Start listing names, and I’ll let you know when you say something interesting enough to distract me from counting.” He slashed, opening a cut across Bashaa’s cheek. “Two.”

  Bashaa’s groan turned to a scream. “Wait! Wait. I’ll tell you.”

  Jael sighed. “That’s disappointing. There’s only one thing I want from you.”

  “If you want the mage who ordered the death of your family, go to Dacia.”

  “What’s in Dacia?”

  “Ubus.” Bashaa panted. “The Jackal Mage. The one you want.”

  “Where in Dacia?”

  “He’s going to a fortress in the mountains. I can tell you how to find it.”

  THE FORTRESS LOOMED above. High on a promontory thick with green trees, reddish rectangular bricks formed tall walls connecting round towers that overlooked the twisty river and narrow valley. Jael flowed through the forest soundlessly, from one tree to the next, up the back of the mountain, avoiding the trail and steps carved into the other side.

  Uneven bricks made for excellent hand and footholds as Jael scaled a wall and slipped inside through an un-shuttered window. Candles lit the dim interior, and it was easy to stay in the shadows that had become a part of him as he made his way out of the empty room and down the hall. It was two hours before dawn, a time when people slept, dreamed, and didn’t expect bad things to happen.

  This was not the first trip he had made out of Media to track down a murderer, but the three weeks of hard travel had taken a toll and he just wanted to find the mage.

  He paused outside each door to listen. Even in sleep people made noise — bedclothes rustled as they turned, a murmur in a dream, the cadence of steady breaths — but he heard nothing. The entire castle was unnaturally quiet. If the torches didn’t flicker and move shadows along the hall, there would be no life in this place at all.