“And now?”
Viktoria felt self-pity from him. Yes, he’d gone through something terrible, but she’d had enough. If he wanted to push her away, she’d go. She’d done everything she could to help him. And there were her own confusion and feelings to deal with. If you love someone, set them free, right? Well, she was letting him go. “Now I’ll take you back to your home. But if you really don’t want your life, no need to wait. Pohjola is a white world, but we still have sun. Day can give you a sun all your own. You’re welcome to walk into it.”
FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 13
CHAPTER SIXTY NINE
VIKTORIA
VIKTORIA LED LURKY and Surma out of the Shadow world onto the grassy meadow next to Mother’s palace where the Sielulintu milled around. The swans scattered as Surma barked and bounded through them.
Dream, wearing her black uniform and boots, sprinted from the ice palace to hug Viktoria, then threw herself into Lurky’s arms. “Congratulations! We’ll have a party!”
He hugged her back with a confused, “For?”
Making frantic slashing motions with her hands behind Lurky’s back, Viktoria shook her head. “For no reason. My sisters will use any excuse for a party. Maybe Memory figured out how to get internet access in Pohjola on their new cell phones.”
“Uh, right?” Dream released Jael, her brow furrowed, but she beamed a smile at him. “Right! We do love any excuse for a party. Wait here for a second, I need to talk to Shadow.” She took Viktoria’s elbow and walked a few steps away. “Why don’t you want a party? Weaver made costumes for the spiders and everything.”
“He doesn’t remember bonding with me. I’m not going to tell him he’s stuck with me forever when he can’t remember it happening. He wants to go home, so I’m taking him back to Port Storm. Maybe he can remember things better if he’s in a more familiar place. If he can’t, I don’t want to be here, where Mother can tell me ‘I told you so’ when it doesn’t work out.”
“Oh, Shadow. I’m so sorry.” Dream’s eyes filled with tears.
“Get him out of here before the rest of your sisters see him.” Louhi, in her red-haired woman guise, walked over and waved a hand. Her black soul bird landed on the ground in front of them. “The poor thing will be swamped.”
“Mother, he doesn’t —”
“I know, Shadow.” Mother pulled her into a hug, then pushed her to arm’s length and caught her gaze. “You are free to come and go as you like now. So you can come back here whenever, or for whatever reason, you want. Do you understand?”
Viktoria nodded. Maybe Louhi did know what was happening with Lurky. That shouldn’t surprise her. Mother always knew. “Thank you.”
“Take your cursed one home. And don’t forget your spiders. Either I’ll take drastic measures to get them out from underfoot, or your grandmother will put them in her beer.” For a moment, her mother’s hag form flashed a gap-toothed grin. “You can expect your sisters to arrive shortly.”
All of them? So that was the punishment. The Pohjola Maidens were Viktoria’s problem now. But it wasn’t a punishment at all. When Viktoria designed her house, she’d included a bedroom for each of her sisters. Hopefully, the Amazon would still be around to help wrangle them if they all showed up at once, though she’d probably already run away. That woman knew when trouble was coming. Port Storm, however powerful a place it might be, probably wasn’t ready for all the Pohjola Maidens to show up at once. What was Louhi going to do with all her free time?
Lurky and the swan eyed each other. “We’re going to ride the swan to your house in Port Storm?”
Viktoria bit her lip and nodded.
“I don’t think he likes me.”
“Try not staring him in the eye like that. He’s really friendly.” The swan nuzzled Viktoria as Memory hung a crate containing the spiders around his neck. “And he loves me, so he’ll let you ride on him. Don’t kick him though.” She climbed up an outstretched wing and settled onto the swan’s back, holding out a hand for Lurky.
With a wary look at the soul bird, Jael scrambled up the bird’s wing to his back and curled himself around Viktoria.
His passengers in place, the swan flapped his wings and lifted into the air, Pohjola falling away beneath them as he spiraled into the sky.
It was always night in the Soul Paths, the way lit by colorful streams of light under them, in shades of green and white that arced across the sky. Swans flying in the opposite direction carried souls to their afterlives.
“What is this place?”
“If a person’s soul is destined to come here for their afterlife, they’re brought by their Soul Bird when they die. Mother is the Queen of Death. We call the lights the Soul Paths. Humans can see them sometimes. They call them aurora borealis.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY
JAEL
SO THAT WAS LOUHI, the Goddess of Witchcraft and Death. She hadn’t said anything to him, but given the air of menace around her and that spooky grin, he considered that a lucky break rather than an insult. And now he was more than a little nervous. As an assassin, he’d learned retribution was best taken when it was least expected.
Her black swan glided through the aurora borealis, carrying Jael and Viktoria back to his world. He half expected the bird to tip sideways and dump him off.
Soul Paths. That name appealed to him more than the human designation for the phenomenon. Lights shone brighter than he’d seen them before, and in more colors — greens, purples, blues, reds, yellows, and oranges. The vivid ribbons reflected off iridescent black feathers and twined through the air, creating even more colors where they crossed paths.
Jael had experienced some strange things in the last thirty-five hundred years, but nothing filled him with wonder like stepping into Viktoria’s world.
His Dragă’s platinum hair blew into his face and he breathed in vanilla as she rose to her knees on the swan’s back. Jael caught her by the hips as she stretched her arms wide. What if she fell from this height? He’d jump after her, but both of them would smash to death far below.
To his surprise, she didn’t shake his touch away, letting him hold her and using his grip to lean out farther to catch more light, splitting the colors into infinite streams around them.
Exhilaration flooded their bond, her emotions offered freely. She laughed in delight. It wasn’t her sultry laugh, but made his pants uncomfortable all the same.
Viktoria turned in his hold and brought her hands close to his face, rainbow hues dancing over her fingertips. It reached for him, all that color and light, and he flinched. His Dragă paused. Her expression didn't change, but doubt and hesitancy dimmed her exuberance.
“I won’t hurt you, Lurky. It’s always night in the Soul Paths, but the lights are extra bright because there’s a solar eclipse happening right now.”
Jael shoved his fear aside and tilted his face into her palm. The scraps of Soul Path licked at his skin. He released Viktoria and held up his hands. The olive hue of his skin gleamed in a rainbow. Was this what made his Dragă's skin glow in moonlight?
As the light left her and flowed to him, she turned her cupped palms up, revealing pools of inky black shadow. Was that what she’d been doing? Stripping shadows from the light? Of course. She’d care about shadows more than these colors. Her magic was shadow, after all. All of the sudden, as miracle-like as the gift of light was, it seemed second best.
A brilliant smile on her lips, Viktoria tilted her face to his. He wished he’d put that look on her face. She leaned forward and lifted her arms over his neck, palms full of shadow behind him. The coolness of his Dragă’s magic brushed against him. Not his skin. Something deeper.
His soul, maybe? The one he wasn’t supposed to have. The one that had turned to steel in white fire. But that wasn’t it. This felt like something outside of himself. Behind him. His shadow? He tried to turn his head, wanting to see what she did, but she closed the scant distance between their lips and pressed hers to his.
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He forgot about shadows and that strange sensation at his back as she licked at his lips.
Viktoria climbed into his lap, spreading her thighs to straddle him.
Jael trailed his lips along her jaw when she lifted her chin to expose her throat. He drew his teeth along the slender column of skin, drawn to the alluring throb of her pulse. His heart beat faster than hers as he pressed his fangs into her.
She sighed at this slow taking as he sipped at her neck.
His Dragă slid her hands down his back, under the hem of his shirt, and up to his shoulders, tracing muscles with soft fingertips that made him flex and twitch. A pang at the loss of his swords didn't sting as much as he thought it should when her hands touched skin where his harness should be.
What he thought of as her naughty shadows invaded his pants and caressed his thighs, ass, and semi-hard erection. The scent of vanilla and shadows filled his head, then that strange sensation behind him, his Dragă’s magic, expanded, engulfing his whole body as it pushed in to settle under his skin. A cool darkness flowed into his blood and over his bones, making itself at home inside him.
He sealed the punctures in her neck and leaned forward, putting his Dragă on her back.
Smooth hardness slid between them... then lifted and flung him off his Dragă. An assassin’s innate balance and awareness of his surroundings saved him from an undignified scramble to recover, or a long fall, as he landed on his back. He braced himself on his elbows and returned a warning glare.
Head twisted as only birds could manage, one of the swan's beady eyes dared Jael to move. He didn’t. “I told you this bird didn’t like me.”
Viktoria giggled. All he could see of her were her legs clothed in black uniform pants with triangles cut out of the thighs. The rest of her remained hidden by the beak the swan had used to scrape Jael off her. “I think we ruffled his feathers.”
The bird calmed as Viktoria sat up and patted his head. “I'm sorry. We’ll behave ourselves.”
Mollified, the swan faced forward and resumed his flight.
His Dragă’s shadow wards allowed the swan to slip through, and the bird circled over her house before swooping to a smooth landing in the grassy field. Something was different. The two enormous statues he’d seen in the meadow were gone. “You’ve redecorated.”
She peered over the swan’s wing. “Oh. That wasn’t me. The peikko move around on their own.”
“Peikko? The trolls?”
Viktoria nodded. “Humans call them that.”
Jael slid down the swan’s wing and caught himself reaching for Viktoria. He dropped his arms and turned away, unwilling to have her reject him again.
She landed next to him and moved to the crate around the swan's neck.
Spiders.
Unable to stop the disgust and fear running through him at the thought of arachnids, he shuddered.
Viktoria understood. “Why don’t you go inside the house while I turn them loose someplace warm in the trees? You don’t have to watch. I’ll be in after I make the introductions.”
Introductions? What lived in the woods around her house that required introductions to spiders? He reached for his swords, hands closing on air. Fists clenched in impotent frustration and he dropped them to his sides.
“Nothing here will hurt me. The Keiju are like fairies with dragonfly wings, and the Menninkainen, I suppose they’re like leprechauns.”
The glows he’d seen and small feet he’d heard the first night he was here.
He nodded, and she led the swan into the woods, leaving Jael alone. His Dragă turned back and gave him a smile as her eyes traveled up and down his body. Warmth spread through his blood and over his skin.
The heat of her gaze on his body remained as she carried the spiders into the woods, and he tilted his head back to watch the last of the eclipse. Only... the eclipse was over.
His Dragă’s magic cooled him inside, but the sun warmed him outside. Lifting his hands, shadows flowed across his skin. She’d done something to him with the shadows she’d pulled from the light and put on him while they'd been in the Soul Paths.
While he stood in the sun, his Dragă walked into darkness.
JAEL PUSHED THE DOOR open and entered Viktoria’s home, stepping into a black and white kitchen. Clean dishes in a drying rack. Empty pizza boxes piled on a counter. Did she eat pancakes? Had that just been a made up detail in their shared dream? She must have made it up, though. He’d never had a pancake, so it couldn’t have been his idea.
Curious, he opened the refrigerator and freezer. More pizza in the fridge. Was that all his Dragă ate? No. There was ice cream in the freezer. No indication of sandwiches. At least Viktoria wouldn't have to fight with Ciaran over sandwich makings.
He cut that train of thought off. No reason to assume she'd be sharing a kitchen with Ciaran.
The kitchen opened into a dining area and living room. Snow drifted across the floor. Black furniture. Fireplace already stacked with wood. Every surface held... stuff. Photographs. Carved wooden figurines. Seashells. Blown glass. Porcelain statues. Vases of flowers. Pillows. Every piece of furniture seemed to serve the sole purpose of holding as many small pillows as possible. Just like in the dream.
A hallway led to the rear of the house. Several closed doors guarded secrets. Jael let them have their privacy — the last thing he wanted to do was walk into the Amazon’s bedroom.
Two doors stood open, and he pushed the one on the right wider. A miniature dojo — mirrored wall and thick mats. A rack of staffs and swords lined a second wall. This would be the work of the Amazon.
To the left, Viktoria's studio. His fingers itched to uncover all the easels and see what she was painting, but that felt like an invasion.
Portraits of platinum-blonde, blue-eyed women led the way to the upper floor. He picked out Dream and Memory as he passed them on his way up the stairs. Viktoria's bedroom door stood open, and he walked into the familiar space.
The doors to her balcony shut out sunlight and cold air. An open door led to the bathroom where she’d put on her strip tease. The final door must go to her closet. This time, he gave in to his curiosity and he twisted the knob. He had to know if all her clothes were missing pieces.
Jael stood on the threshold and gaped. How many clothes did one woman need? Tall racks of dresses. A wall full of drawers. Mannequins wore more dresses. All of them missing some part.
A heartbeat entered the house and climbed the stairs, coming to a stop behind him.
“Need something to wear? I think everything in there would be too small for you.”
That was true enough — there was barely room for her in any of these... outfits. “I was seeing if I could catch the scissors-happy imp who cuts up all your clothes.”
Viktoria laughed. “You’ll be waiting a long time. The imps live in the woods, not my closet. Weaver makes the clothes that way from the start.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY ONE
JAEL
HIS DRAGĂ STIFFENED in her seat as she guided her car through the front gate at the compound, which opened without Jael entering the code on his phone.
Jael’s brow furrowed. “That’s odd. I’ll have to tell Karov there’s a problem with one of his high-tech security measures. He’ll have a meltdown.”
Viktoria winced and pushed two fingers against her temple. “Somehow I doubt that’s going to solve the problem.”
“What makes you say that?” Jael glanced over at her. “Are you all right? Do you have a headache?”
She smiled and dropped her hand. “No. The problem is your house is a two-year-old.”
About to respond, he lost his train of thought as a dog with raccoon hands for paws, and a human hand on its tail waved at them as they drove by. Then the first sight of home came into view through the trees and relief swept through him. This place had always been real for him. It was familiar, and hadn’t shown up in the memories the mage had altered. Everything here would be based on fact. Even dogs w
ith raccoon paws.
He was exhausted.
Trudging to his room in the lower levels of the compound, he wanted nothing more than to sleep for a century or so. Maybe Selene would knock him out for a while after she heard how he’d treated Viktoria.
In the grey stone tunnel, Alaric blocked the way, blue eyes wide in disbelief and horror on his face. “Where are your swords?”
Leave it to Alaric to blurt it out. He had no sense of self preservation. At all.
Jael turned to slide past the Fae and resumed his mindless path to his bedroom, lifting a hand in thanks as he heard the meaty sound of a smack. Melchior thumping Alaric in the head, no doubt.
“Ouch!” Alaric complained, but it didn’t stop his questions. “Where is your Dragă? Do you have three Dragăs? Congratulations!”
Every muscle tense, Jael stopped. Maybe instead of sleeping, he needed a fight. He spun, hands itching to go for swords he no longer carried. “Still looking for a high-five, Alaric? I’m in the mood to find out what happens.”
The Fae took a step back. “Er, not congratulations? Commiserations?” He tilted his head up at Melchior. “Is that the opposite of congratulations?”
Weariness reasserted itself and Jael’s shoulders sagged, the urge to fight vanishing. He turned around and headed for his room. The sound of Melchior's hand smacking the back of Alaric’s head a second time, and the resulting protest from Alaric, such familiar sounds, were almost enough to bring a smile to his face.
Opening his door, he jumped back as it wrenched itself out of his hand and slammed shut in his face. He tried to turn the handle and open the door again. The knob rattled in his fingers, like it was locked... only his door didn’t have a lock in the doorknob.
Jael leaned his forehead against the door and sighed, remembering Viktoria’s words when the gate had what he thought was a malfunction. Your house is a two-year-old.
Viktoria's Shadow: Jael Page 35