Viktoria's Shadow: Jael

by Ysobella Black

  “Then you can deal with them on their sugar highs.”

  Did she realize that meant he would be around to do it? “Deal.”

  She crossed her arms, but her smile remained. “What are you doing here, Lurky? I’m pretty sure I threatened you with something unpleasant if I saw you again.”

  He lifted a shoulder and dropped it. “I’ve been threatened by people who have much better reason to kill me.” The storm in her eyes and her rising chin alerted him to a mistake. “Not that your threat isn’t valid. In fact, I’m feeling nervous about it right now.” He offered her the plate. Maybe she could be bribed, too. Dragăs didn’t really want to kill their vampires. Stryx had survived, and if anyone was going to actually get murdered, it was him, surely.

  Viktoria relented, sat next to him, and unwrapped the foil. She laughed. “Pancakes? Did you make them yourself?”

  Jael shook his head. “I had help with those.” It was mix from a box, and some time in a pan. How hard could it be? “I’ll make them myself next time.”

  “Planning the next time already? Sure of yourself.”

  “I have chocolate chip, buttermilk, walnut, blueberry, or banana, and your choice of maple, blueberry, strawberry, chocolate or caramel syrups. And I have things to drink. Milk, cocoa, apple juice, orange juice —”

  His Dragă laughed. “I think I’m going into a sugar coma just listening to this.”

  “I want what we had in the dream.” His gaze fell to his swords. He missed his daughter, dead now over three thousand years. A family wasn’t something he’d given much thought to since he’d been turned. There was no point. But holding the baby in his hands, and seeing the twin boys — he wanted those kids desperately.

  Viktoria curved her lips in a smile. “And you, what? Thought we'd start on the twins tonight?”

  Holy fuck. His cock hardened so fast he sat up straight. Change the subject. Do not jump on your Dragă. She made him lose all his control. “Do you know what their names are? Are sons and daughter?” Somehow, that was important information.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  VIKTORIA

  HE BROUGHT PANCAKES and learned how to make them. The favorite food of the twin boys they didn’t have together. She’d never have guessed simple circles of breakfast food would nearly undo a thousand years of restraint, but this simple gesture made that icy wall she was trying to keep him behind defrost a bit.

  Did she know what the children’s names were? She smirked. “Well, Lurky, if we follow the traditions of my mother, any boys we have will be named after a disease, and the girls for their magic.”

  Lurky raised an eyebrow. “Diseases?”

  “Some of my brothers are named Gout, Rickets, Consumption, and Colic.”

  He reached for her hand and caressed her wrist with his thumb, further melting her icy composure. “Are you opposed to starting a new tradition for baby names?”

  Lurky was dangerously handsome as he talked about the future, like he wanted the same things as she did. A family was something she’d never let herself think about. The amount of help needed to raise children had put them far out of reach, as long as the deal with her mother still ruled Viktoria’s life.

  Would he make a good father? With that overprotective streak, he’d never let anything happen to his children. Now he was relaxed — still a predator, though, even with his swords next to his leg rather than on his back. That had to mean something. That she could touch him? Or that he didn’t really consider her a threat? He reminded her of a big cat, deceptively at ease, but ready to pounce.

  Would it hurt to let him pounce once? She couldn’t deny the attraction between them. And she had always been a sucker for a guy with black eyes and curved swords, but it wouldn’t be fair to start something with Lurky just because she had a type.

  “Viktoria?”

  Right. New tradition for baby names. She blinked. When had he gotten so close? If she leaned forward half an inch, she could kiss him. “We shouldn’t do this.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re a vampire.”

  He flashed a bright smile with a hint of fang. “I’m aware.”

  “Vampires like to bite, and I’ve seen what happens after that.”

  “I doubt you’ve ever seen what will happen between you and me.”

  She laughed. Men! Even when they were the only one around, there was competition with every other one in the world.

  A rough thumb caressed her cheek. “All vampires are not the same, Viktoria. I didn’t say it would be easy, but I can keep my fangs to myself. I’ve done nothing to earn your mistrust.”

  “Oh, really?” Viktoria jabbed a finger into his chest. “You followed me home and spied on me while I was naked.”

  He leaned a quarter of an inch closer. “You knew I was there the whole time. I didn’t see anything you didn’t want to show me.”

  Okay. He had her there. Viktoria summoned all the indignation she’d felt that afternoon. “You didn’t treat me as an equal when we fought the spiders today.”

  “So be angry, but don’t think you can’t trust me because of that.” Lurky shrugged. “You can ask Idris or any of the other members of the Ildum. I act the same way when I fight with the rest of them.”

  “You don’t think any of them can take care of themselves, either? I doubt they appreciate the sentiment any more than I did.”

  “My swords are always eager to destroy anything mage related, and I take every opportunity to make them happy.”

  “You talk about them like they’re alive.”

  The playful glint in Lurky’s black eyes dimmed. “They are for me. We’ve been together for a long time.”

  Disliking that she’d been the one to dampen the playfulness in him, she decided to give in. Just a little. “If you bite me without asking, I’ll never let you close again.”

  “Why do you distrust vampires?”

  “One came to my home and bit one of my sisters. He wouldn’t leave her alone after that. Following her everywhere, saying she was his.”

  Black eyes met hers. A demand and an entreaty in them. “You can trust me.”

  “I’ll give you one chance to prove it.”

  Lurky glanced around. “Do we have an audience? I’ve heard footsteps in this wood. Maybe I should have brought more candy.”

  “Are you shy, Lurky? What happened to your sense of adventure?”

  “Well, I’m not going to worry about corrupting them if you aren’t.”

  She closed the scant distance between them. “I’m pretty sure they’re off somewhere on their sugar highs.”

  Their lips met.

  Viktoria had been kissed before, but never like this. Lurky’s kiss stole her breath with its possessiveness and need. Filled her with longing and passion. Made her ache for a future with him, and a past...

  The faint buzz sounding in her mind intensified.

  Lurky jerked back from her, his hand going to his temple. “My head.”

  Viktoria gaped at him. It wasn’t possible.

  He stared back at her, black eyes narrowed.

  “It was you,” they chorused.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  JAEL

  3,500 YEARS AGO

  Jael pushed the secret panel to the king’s courtyard open an inch, pausing in a dark shadow as Prince Zahhak paced by in agitated steps on the other side of the colonnade, oblivious to the beauty of ponds, and colorful, flowering plants, long pale robe swirling around his ankles when he turned.

  At least Jael assumed the flowers were colorful. He was still getting used to a world of black and white during the day and faint colors at night.

  The prince glanced up at the high afternoon sun several times and murmured to himself too quietly for even vampire hearing to make out his words.

  This worry and fidgeting weren’t like the young man, whose good looks and cleverness typically made him overconfident to the point of arrogance. What had happened in the two weeks that Jael had been away on a
mission for the king to so change the prince?

  And where was the king? It wasn’t like him to be late for Jael’s reports.

  He pulled his gloves on and hood up, steeling himself to walk into daylight. Although his clothing was spelled to protect him from the sun, an assassin naturally preferred shadows to light, especially an assassin newly turned into a vampire.

  Rapid slaps of sandals on the stone carried a white-haired, white-eyed man into the courtyard.

  A mage.

  The urge to unsheathe his scimitars and take the man’s head nearly overwhelmed Jael’s good sense, but he remained near the secret door. No way to know which mage this was, other than not the one Jael hunted. The Jackal Mage had figured out how to keep his body and didn’t change his appearance like all the others.

  It was crowded in the king’s courtyard today, with everyone except for the king, who was supposed to be here. The newcomer set a covered dish on a nearby table and hurried to the prince.

  “Ahriman!” Zahhak whispered. “I worried you weren’t coming.”

  “Have you done it?” The mage caught the prince by his shoulders.

  Zahhak nodded. “Yes. I dug a pit yesterday, and this morning my father fell into it on his way to prayer. He’s dead. As soon as his body is discovered, I will be king.”

  The king’s death didn’t come as a surprise. They were always being murdered. An assassin knew about those things. That Zahhak had the nerve to kill his father, though... that did come as a shock. How long had the mage been influencing the boy, and what did he hope to gain?

  The mage bowed. “Well done, my king.”

  “What must I do now to rule the world?” Zahhak leaned forward in his eagerness.

  So that was the incentive to turn the boy’s head.

  “Sit.” The mage led Zahhak to a bench beside the table and uncovered the plate. He put a hand on the prince’s arm. “Eat while we plan the next steps.”

  Intercede or listen? The intelligence was probably of more value than a prince in the grand scheme of things. And if the mage had his hooks into Zahhak for days already, there was the boy was past saving.

  Zahhak jumped and tried to jerk away, but the mage tightened his grip. The prince’s face slackened, and he did as instructed.

  A vampire’s sense of smell told Jael the meal contained lamb. He frowned. Zahhak was a vegetarian, but the boy ate. His eyes took on a distant look, and he shoveled food into his mouth.

  The mage smiled. “Are you ready for the next part of the plan?”

  Freezing with his spoon halfway to his mouth, the prince nodded.

  “Keep eating, my king.” The mage maintained his grip on Zahhak’s arm and sat beside him. “Jamshid, the ruler of the world, has become arrogant and lost the divine right to rule. You must take the army and hunt him down. Once Jamshid is dead, you will take his place and drink the elixir of immortality from the seven-ringed cup.”

  Not going to happen. It was bad enough mage magic couldn’t be killed. At least it weakened the man who used it. There was no telling how powerful a mage could grow if his body was immortal, too.

  “You will need protection.” The mage set the now empty plate aside. “Remove your outer robe.”

  Zahhak stood and obeyed, leaving himself clothed in a sleeveless tunic and trousers.

  The mage leaned forward twice, kissing each of Zahhak’s shoulders. An odd thing for a mage to do. They weren’t known for being affectionate, and that was a strange gesture even for people who knew each other well. It wasn’t until the mage turned away, mouth opened to reveal fangs glistening with poison.

  Zahhak fell to the ground and groaned as his shoulders reddened. Something dark and sinuous moved under the prince’s skin, stretching it like something pushed from inside trying to get out. He screamed as two rips opened from his throat across the tops of his shoulders.

  An enormous black snake grew out of each tear, heads swaying on long necks as they spread their hoods.

  Gods. Had Jael known something like that was possible, he’d have killed the boy before it happened. Zahhak was arrogant, but no one deserved... this.

  Haestratos, the Snake Mage, aimed a white dagger at his own chest, put the hilt into Zahhak’s hand, and squeezed the boy’s fingers closed. “Do it.”

  Sweat broke out on Zahhak’s forehead, and his arm shook.

  “You killed your father. You can kill me. You need the power I can give you to fulfill your destiny.”

  The prince, too far under the mage’s spell to resist the compulsion for long, stabbed the knife into Haestratos’ heart. The two men collapsed to the ground. Zahhak’s mouth opened in a silent scream, while Haestratos smiled as his body withered, like his very essence was being pulled through the knife. It was over in moments.

  Zahhak pulled the blade from the remains of the prior mage and placed his palm over the wound. Haestratos’ body burst into white flames, then ash.

  Burning. Everything was burning. Screams tore through air that smelled of death and charred flesh as white flames roared into the sky —

  “That's better.” The new mage rolled his shoulders back and stretched his arms over his head.

  If Jael still breathed, he would have betrayed his presence. The mage’s words snapped Jael out of his descent into the worst memories of his life in time to see the snakes flick their tongues in the air, turning their heads in his direction. They must be able to smell him.

  Jael slid sideways to stand in front of a door, opening it and pulling it closed with a click. With a final tug on his hood to make sure he was fully covered, he stepped into the sun.

  “Assassin. You have returned. Your mission was successful?”

  “I came to make my report to your father.”

  “I assure you, he wouldn’t mind if I heard it first.”

  “Very well. Yes. The mission was successful. The spy is no longer a threat to this court.”

  “Excellent. Will you accept a job from me?”

  “What work could you possibly have for me?”

  The Snake Mage smirked. “You might be surprised. I am going to assemble my army to invade Jamshid’s realm, but that will take time, and one man can move faster. Find Jamshid for me and I will reward you well.”

  It wasn’t likely Haestratos would change bodies again soon. And finding this man, Jamshid, would ingratiate Jael with the mage, which meant a reason to stay around the palace and watch what he did.

  JAEL ENTERED THE MACE & Sword, turned left into the common eating area and scanned the room. A scattering of men and women, all wrapped in dark scarves and hoods, occupied a variety of mismatched, rickety wooden tables and chairs, tankards and plates of food in front of them. No one physically moved to look up, but every eye in the bar took note of his arrival.

  The proprietors, whoever they were, never discouraged regular people from entering, but the inn was part of a network available to assassins working for the Old Man of the Mountain. It wasn’t a friendly sort of place, the kind where everyone knew your name, unless you were on their list and about to die. Jael’s contact sat alone in a dark corner at the end of the bar. Like everyone else, she wore a hooded cape. Unlike everyone else’s, her cloak fluttered like it was caught in a perpetual breeze no one else felt.

  Following protocol, Jael slid a token rather than a coin across the counter to the bartender. “Whatever she’s having tonight.”

  The bartender, a tall, lanky man with an eyepatch, went to fetch something in a tankard, and inclined his head toward the woman as he served Jael.

  Jael picked up his drink, walked the length of the bar, and slid onto the seat next to Echo.

  Up close her countenance flickered, solid one moment, see-through the next. Pale skin, wide eyes that changed color with the seasons, and long auburn hair always tangled with sticks and leaves, even if she hadn’t been outside, were features of all her iterations.

  Echo wasn’t actually all there, or here, or anywhere, at least, not all the time — just a fragm
ent of herself in any one place after men driven mad by Pan tore the nymph apart. The only constant thing about her was her voice. Depending on how many locations she was at once, she could spread herself too thin and seem little more than a ghost.

  “Hello, Assassin.” As she became corporeal, she picked up the tankard and hurriedly took a sip before she lost cohesion and the cup slipped through less tangible fingers.

  Jael caught the mug and set it on the bar for her.

  “Thanks!” She beamed a bright smile at him and clapped her ethereal hands soundlessly. “I wish everyone had your reflexes. I lose so many drinks that way.”

  “You’re welcome. I brought you something from Huaxia that might help.” He reached into his pocket and removed a bundle of narrow bamboo stems.

  “Dead plants?” She scowled at him. “Is this some kind of nymph joke?”

  “I use these in my line of work sometimes. I didn’t have a chance to visit any of, er, you, when I was there. If you like the idea, I’ll make sure to give them to all the yous I meet.” He selected one of the shorter stems and dropped it into her drink. “Now you don’t have to move your cup.”

  As she grew stable, she leaned forward and sipped through the stem. When her body turned faint a moment later, she sat back. “Be ready, Assassin. When I have arms for long enough, I’m going to hug you. Don’t kill me.”

  Jael laughed.

  She winked. “Now. What can I do for you?”

  “I need to send a message, and I have a question.”

  “What’s the message?”

  “Xenos is likely in Ellada or Dacia. I need to let him know an acquaintance of his parents is here in Fars.”

  Echo sighed, eyes half-closing. “Xenos.”

  Jael reached for her, but his hand passed through her arm. He was losing her. “Focus, Echo.”

  “Oh, parts of me are focused.” Echo giggled, voice stronger, body physically more present with him. She leaned over and hugged him, but before he could return the gesture, she went ghost-like again.