"Is that meant to make me grateful?" Tatya stared out at what on the surface was once again a normal town. "I have no answers. As far as I can see, we have two choices. Surrender or fight. Surrender is out of the question."
Changing Sky spoke. "Let's get started then, we have work to do."
Chapter Twenty-One: Preparation
Tatya and Changing Sky sat cross-legged, opposite each other on the floor of his suite in Vanse’s lair.
"One more time," he instructed, "then we'll move on to the next lesson."
They'd been practicing for over two hours as he taught her stronger defense strategies against unwelcome attention on the psychic plane. She'd found running through each lesson once was enough to master and own the technique. The process reminded her of using recipes she'd known but forgotten, rather than learning something new. Yet Changing Sky insisted she practice each lesson several times to make sure she got it right. Each time, she executed the exercise without fault.
"Stay humble," he'd warned her when she swelled with pride after mastering an archaic technique advised by his guardians that flipped your opponents' energy back on them. "Pride allows hidden weaknesses to creep in and cause your downfall when you least expect it. When the battle comes, you want your enemies outside where you see them."
His words had chilled and deflated her confidence in her abilities. The work engaged her mind, leaving her little time to reflect on recent events, but Changing Sky's words reminded her she would be called upon to use these methods to kill. Eliminating vampires, or any of the other hellish creatures waiting for them outside the hospital she could make peace with, but she didn't think she possessed the callousness necessary to take the life of a human being. She made excellent progress until Changing Sky's spirit guides ordered her to awaken and contact her own ancient guides.
An hour later, without success, they rested.
"You are tiring."
"One more time, please? Then I'll stop." Tatya recognized her own stubbornness was part of the problem. Her guardians within weren't servants to be summoned by force of will alone. Instead of allowing them to emerge, she was blocking them.
"Okay. Ready?" Changing Sky asked for the nth time.
Tatya shifted, placing her left leg instead of her right on top, getting comfortable, hands relaxed on her knees, palms facing upward, with the thumb and forefinger touching. She shut her eyes, and breathed in and out, soft and easy, focused on the rise and fall of her diaphragm, aware of the shaman's breath synchronized with her own.
"Shields up," he instructed.
Tatya heard his voice but couldn't have said whether he spoke the words aloud or in her head. Deep layers of protection slotted into place. Like blinking an eye, she thought.
"Seek," he ordered.
Tatya delved into myriad images from her previous lives. Changing Sky, or rather his spirit guides, had shown her techniques of calling up and controlling her memories. Changing Sky's prophecy that after seeing his spirit guides, she'd be able to hear them was correct. She learned to recognize who was speaking. Sometimes it was the clear strong tones of the young Cherokee princess, Meoquanee, at others, the deep boom of the Hopi elder, Qaletaqa, or the commanding voice of Otakay, the Sioux warrior. Her own memories no longer inundated her, but she was able to search and discard them at will.
Yet the current exercise remained the most difficult. Not the memory retrieval but reliving the emotions that accompanied them—fear, love, hate, desire, and loss. The whole gamut of human feelings was inextricably linked with her experiences and proved harder to deal with, because many were so traumatic. Reconciling the Vanse of today with images of him sliding a blade into her heart over and over wrenched her from one extreme to the other.
Tatya recognized the one lifetime's memories she had yet to mine. This was the only one where she hadn’t known Vanse, except at the end when he turned up to kill her. She'd eliminated most of the memories from that life, narrowing the search to one particular occasion. That life hadn't been easy the first time, let alone again and again; however, familiarity had done its job, and she could behold the image of a loving father sacrificing himself for his daughter and son without shedding tears for the tragedy of those two lost children.
The Druid initiation was the memory she sought, but her recollection remained shrouded and fragmented. The Bandrui had given her drink that contained a hallucinogenic drug, and the images kept distorting and blurring one into the other. Slowing the stream of pictures that flashed before her inner eye to a stop, she slipped into a past self where she knelt and stared up into the eyes of a blonde, Bandrui priestess.
"Step back, look, consider." The power-filled voice was that of the proud Sioux warrior, Otakay.
Tatya obeyed his instruction and attempted to step outside her former self to observe, but she could only view the images as she had lived them. The priestess held a goblet to her lips, making sure she drank every drop. She reexperienced the sour, warm liquid slipping down her throat.
Changing Sky's guides sent a pulse of power, and in a beat, her awareness of the memory changed. She witnessed the same scene, this time from outside and watched as the Bandrui caught her when she fell forward, turned and laid her on her back.
Tatya gazed in wonder as first one whirling light, then another and another appeared above her, and her spirit rose from her body. The lights slowed, came nearer, and the forms of three effulgent women manifested. Their features were unclear, but she felt the power and love they had for her. A circle of brilliant blinding light surrounded her, increasing in intensity as the three women merged with her spirit body.
Another beat and she was back inside herself, sitting on the floor facing her mentor, her heart resonating with the impact of the vision.
"Tatya, are you all right?"
Tatya blinked, looking around, shaking her head. The barrier between this world and the spirit world had thinned, and she closed her eyes, seeking the Bandrui ancients within. She was amazed at the strength of their presence and understood her fear had been of being dominated by these companions, for they were older and stronger than she was. Knowing they were more powerful, she'd feared she would lose her individuality, be absorbed into them. But even though they had become one with her, they remained separate. Their warmth and power lifted her mood, giving her courage, even as the sense of their active presence faded.
Changing Sky's spirit guides retreated, a quieter presence since her own had awakened.
"That is enough for today." Changing Sky packed up his paraphernalia. "Your guides are here to help you with the difficulties you face. You should rest."
After she returned to her room, Tatya flopped in the armchair. She'd hoped to avoid being alone with her grief over the deaths of the two people dearest to her. Reliving sorrows from her earlier lives burdened her, but her trust in her guides and mentor was absolute. She fought the urge to sleep, but as she drifted off, she recognized the Bandrui spirit guides were a treasure that had already enriched her understanding. Those she mourned did not suffer, but watched over her with love.
Vanse came in the evening, and the two of them retraced their steps up to the roof. Over to the west, the autumn sky blazed with color, from glorious pale peach through to crimson vermillion as the sun kissed the western horizon goodnight. Over to the east, the last of the pale blue cobalt merged into Prussian, and a full, blood-red moon rose in inauspicious splendor. They remained silent and breathed in the refreshing chill of the late evening air.
Vanse led her over to the exact spot where they'd stood yesterday. "Such beauty." He spoke softly. "Nature is the greatest of artists, don't you think? Surely sunsets are among her most dazzling creations.”
He stood close, and she was intensely aware of him, the heat radiating from his body, their connection flaring to life, as it always did when they were in proximity to each other. Coming to terms with pain from her past lives, and with the depth of his feelings was daunting. He'd waited and watched for centuries,
always protecting her, even though she wished he'd been able to accomplish it without killing her.
Vanse moved back, leaving her alone, her gaze sliding over the scene. Today she required no help to see the demonic creatures approaching. The last few stragglers from the evacuated zone must have been rounded up because there wasn't a single human to be seen in the streets. She couldn't hear any birds singing, and it seemed that every living creature had fled.
Only the darkness survived, seething with malevolence. Ravening hell-hounds patrolled the perimeter of the hospital grounds, pawing at the edges of Vanse's wards, recoiling as if burned when they touched the barriers. High in the air, she saw huge, winged demons, their claws and talons darkened by the dried blood of their victims, snarling at each other. Many more half-demon, half-vampires than the pitifully small force Vanse controlled. As Tatya watched, the darkness thickened, a sulfurous mist drifting above the roiling mass. She licked her lips. "Have any reinforcements made it through?"
"Not yet." Vanse sounded detached.
"Do you think they'll be here soon?" Even as the words left her mouth, she realized she was pleading. She wanted a normal life; she wanted Corwin, Bellamy, Bryson, and every other person here in the hospital fighting against an enemy with immeasurably greater strength, to have normal lives. She even wanted Vanse to live, though she had no idea of what normal entailed for him.
"There's a possibility he will attack soon. Maybe tonight when he is stronger? Maybe tomorrow morning, when he will have the advantage of surprise?"
She sensed a flicker of emotion from the Bandrui; they knew this enemy of old. Their scorn strengthened her purpose.
"Come, you must rest. More depends on you than on anyone else."
Yeah, me and my untested powers, Tatya thought.
"Don't you need sleep?" she asked as they crossed the roof, their footsteps loud and out of place in the eerie silence.
"Sleep is a luxury that my demon half doesn't need much of. I'm sure when this," he gestured toward the enemy forces, "is over I'll have plenty of time to sleep. One way or another."
Tatya walked in a beautiful garden where small paths wound between verdant trees, and bushes were weighted with perfect flowers and fruits of every variety and color. Fragrant perfumes of sandalwood, frangipani, jasmine, and rose bewildered her sense of smell. The sky was a blue vault, and lush grass cushioned her bare feet.
Here and there, she saw other people laughing together in groups, couples walking with their hands entwined, and at the edge of her vision, a building. As she strolled nearer, she noticed the walls were studded with jewels; radiant rubies, emeralds, diamonds added to the ethereal brilliance. Was this a palace?
"Ah, there you are."
At the sound of the voice behind her, Tatya turned. He was so beautiful: the hair, a fiery halo lit by the sun, falling around his shoulders; those sky-blue eyes. How had she forgotten?
"I've been waiting for you." He took her arm, and they sauntered along winding paths, the beauty of the garden saturating her senses. "Do you like it here?" his velvet voice caressed her skin.
"It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen." She smiled up at him.
"I created it for you."
Overcome with gratitude, not knowing how to thank this being for his munificence, she avoided his gaze, studying the soft blades of grass. He put a hand, under her chin, raising her face so she had to look at him. The power of his gaze captivated her. He leaned closer.
"You know what I want," he said, folding her in his arms. She shuddered as waves of intense joy swept through her, every cell in her body shivering with delight. He alone offered this.
Tatya caught the flash of something out of the corner of her eye. She looked up, her attention caught by a tiny black hole in the sky. Bewildered, she watched it expand, its eager edges eating up the blue, and an awful dread filled her. Something was wrong. "No, I can't."
Angelus grasped hold of her arm, and the dark gold chain joining their hearts became visible. Black writhing snakes appeared, creeping toward her, and she drew back in fearful anticipation of what would happen when they reached her heart.
The following instant she stood on the brink of a precipice, high on an ice-covered mountain. She gasped as the freezing air stabbed her lungs while the place where Angelus gripped her arm burned red hot as pulses of pain blazed along the link. He thrust her away from him, and she teetered on the edge as he held her over the sheer drop. She looked down, terrified.
"You can, and you will."
Tatya struggled, but his grip tightened. Her feet scrabbled for purchase as one minute she twisted in scalding agony, the next she trembled violently in the glacial cold. To regain ecstasy and end the suffering, he simply asked for her surrender.
"Then die!"
She screamed and screamed as she fell into the abyss.
"Tatya! Tatya!" Vanse was shaking her. "You had a nightmare."
She opened her eyes and stared up at him. The touch of his hands on her arms was real, and the burning pain was gone. "It was Angelus."
The vivid horror of the nightmare replayed in her mind as shades of pain from the dream surfaced. She was aware Angelus had inflicted a fraction of the suffering he could administer. If he won, he would torture her for eternity.
"Don't think about it. It's over." Vanse lay down beside her and slid an arm underneath her head. His touch calmed her, the length of his body alongside hers felt right as his heat warmed and dissipated the lingering traces of cold. He embraced her, pulled her head onto his chest, patting and stroking her back as if she were a child that needed soothing. "Sleep and be safe. I'll guard you."
She liked that idea. Lying this close to him, a blanket of peace cocooned her in safety. If the other thought she should be with him, she knew otherwise. She knew the truth.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Trojan Horses
When she woke, her head rested on Vanse's chest; his arms cradled her, and she was surrounded by his musky sandalwood demon scent. She wanted to stay there, to surrender to his protection. The link glowed bright gold and kept fear and the slivers of the nightmare at bay.
Vanse's eyes were closed, but she could tell he was awake. She wondered if vampire sleep was different than human rest. It felt right, being this close to him, entwined together with the solid feel of his chest under her, her hand tucked around his body, and his arm heavy on her back.
Tatya knew where her thoughts were heading. What cat refuses a bowl of cream placed right in front of its nose? He'd pursued her lifetime after lifetime, so why not indulge? They should make the most of the opportunity if only because they might not have another chance. It wasn't as if she was offering him her virginity; this was the twenty-first century, not the tenth, and if she chose to make love with someone, it was nobody's business but her own. She decided what choices she made with her body.
Vanse opened his eyes, his mouth creasing into a lazy smile. He squeezed, pulling her against him. She laughed.
"Mmm, for once I'm glad you can read my mind," she said, walking her fingers across his chest, enjoying the tease of his skin under her fingertips.
"It's not your mind I'm reading," he replied. He shifted so they lay facing each other. "Tatya, I would like nothing more than to make long, slow love to you," he paused, sparks of gold in his eyes, his smile deepening, "and I promise you one day soon I will, but I must, how do you phrase it? Take a rain check."
She blinked in disbelief. How dare he? Her palm itched with the urge to slap him across the face and hurt him. After lifetimes of pursuit, she'd offered herself to him on a plate well, on a bed, and he refused. Screw him! Hell could freeze over before she gave him another chance. She pushed against him, trying to move away, but he held her tight and refused to let her escape.
"It's not that I don't want you," his voice was low and intense. "My feelings for you will never change."
"Oh, cut the crap. I have to go to the bathroom. Do you mind?" He released her, and she rolled away from him
as fast as she could. "If that's how you want to play this game, then that's fine by me!" She stormed across the room and slammed the bathroom door.
A sharp knock from outside the suite had her opening the door again before she'd taken two steps. But by then Vanse had ushered Sheriff Corwin and Major Bryson into the room. Both took in the rumpled bedcovers without blinking an eye as they looked from Vanse to her.
If only, flashed through Tatya's mind. Vanse twinkled at her. She ignored him.
"Our reinforcements are having a tough time getting through," announced Bryson, too professional to allow his tone to betray his thoughts. This meant their total defense included Corwin and half a dozen police; Bryson's elite force of twenty men, and Vanse's one hundred odd followers.
Yeah, where was the cavalry when you needed them? The trill of that warning trumpet heralding the salvation of the beleaguered soldiers in old western movies echoed in her mind. Aunt Lil had loved to watch those films.
"We're in a kind of Rourke's Drift, Alamo, Thermopylae, David, and Goliath..."
"We get it, Corwin," said Tatya, and thought things must be bad if Corwin was using that many metaphors.
"Any idea how long it will take for them to arrive?" Vanse's voice held no hint of urgency or sign that he knew the ravening hordes of monsters and demons from hell were about to batter down the doors.
Tatya wondered what multitudes of slavering, beastlike demons did when they got hold of you. The phrase 'limb from limb' jumped to mind and goose bumps erupted along her neck.
"No." Bryson's answer was flat and honest.
"Don't worry, Tatya. We got your back."
"Gee, Corwin, that's good. I was getting a tad worried there for a moment." She gave Corwin a wry grin. She knew he understood. The banter between them was a way of saying they cared about each other; if Corwin lost his life because of her, she'd incur a karmic debt she'd never be able to repay.
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