Ripples Through Time

by Ripples Through Time (lit)

  “Of course not. I’m only taking the power. That was the term of our agreement.”

  “Fuck our agreement.”

  “My sweet, your defiance is charming, but I’m afraid this isn’t a matter of you handing over your debt. It’s a matter of my taking it, whenever I like, however I like. You won’t see it coming and you won’t be able to stop me.” He grinned. “The timing, as I said, is off, but no matter. I’m sure I can put it to use during the apocalypse.”

  She swallowed. She didn’t wish to betray how hard she shook but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Her walls had collapsed and she was on full display. The useless blade in her grip was drenched in cold sweat, and she held it so tight it might well never leave her hand again. “Oh, so you’re planning to end the world,” she drawled with false courage. “How stunningly original.”

  Paimon shook his head and took another step forward. “The attempts made by those before me have been child’s play. I assure you, what I have in mind won’t go unnoticed.”

  He caught her eyes again, and for an unbearably long minute, everything around them ceased. Everything. There were no trees, headstones or soil beneath her feet and no town surrounding them. She looked into his eyes and saw flames licking his pupils as well as the silhouetted dance of a thousand terrible things. At once, the sound around her deafened with the shrieks of millions. Her heart galloped so fast that she feared it might explode within her chest. Her skin grew hot and slick, as though trying to escape her bones. It only lasted a few seconds but she felt the effect would remain with her forever—the sting of fire, the sorrow of Hell. Everything he’d shown her by simply inviting her into his eyes.

  “Until next time, my lovely Ravenna.”

  Something scalding brushed her cheek, and then he melted back into the shadows which latched onto him as though he were a favorite cousin. He stood there one second and had vanished the next. He was gone, and she was again left in the cold.

  It took long minutes to gather her bearings. Raven remained stationary, her chest heaving, her hungry lungs gulping down air. Her skin was numb but there. Her heart raced but didn’t abandon her. When she raised her hand to her cheek to make sure he hadn’t burned her with his kiss, she felt nothing but the smooth feel of her flesh. No scar. No raw, angry mark. Nothing.

  Raven heaved a long sigh, her wobbly legs at last complying with her need to move.

  She felt so shaken that she didn’t feel him, sense him, didn’t even hear him. When she turned, she found herself once again captured in a man’s eyes, only there was no damnation here.

  “Nicolai,” she breathed. The air around them hummed in pleasure at the sound of his name.

  Nothing at first. Nicholas remained motionless, the picture of a man whose words had just been robbed from his tongue. He appeared, for all the world, simply stunned by the sight of her.

  He just looked at her, and she looked back.

  Then, at last, there were words.

  “Hello, sweetheart.”

  Chapter 12

  Colonial New Hampshire, 1701

  Ravenna couldn’t stand doing nothing. She never could. As a child, she occupied empty minutes of her day by doing housework, no matter how tedious. On days when the housework duties were sparse, she retreated to the backyard and practiced whatever techniques Kenneth wanted her to perfect. It had been much easier when she was young, simply doing as instructed without caring about how the outside world operated or the staggering differences in her upbringing versus other children.

  She couldn’t do nothing. Not as a child and definitely not now, when her home had been invaded. Kenneth had crossed into her sacred space. He’d threatened her mate. He’d come after her.

  She couldn’t ignore that, or hope Kenneth would eventually disappear. Similarly, Ravenna understood that she couldn’t wait for another nocturnal attack. She wouldn’t sit by as her Guardian plotted the death of her lover. And while she had no idea what she would say to him—if she’d have the strength and courage to do exactly what she needed to do—she refused to do nothing.

  If anything, the raid on her cottage had assured her that Kenneth’s motives weren’t to harm her. He only meant to commandeer her—take her away from something he felt had slipped out of her grasp, something she’d stumbled into by mistake. As long as she went alone she had nothing to fear. Nicolai remained in the cellar of their home, having fallen asleep long after she did. They had listened to the heavy footsteps of the men above as their happy home was ripped apart until sleep commanded them and day chased the intruders away.

  Kenneth wouldn’t hurt her. He couldn’t. She was One of the Few—his warrior, and he was her Guardian.

  He couldn’t hurt her.

  She wouldn’t let him.

  Ravenna forced her thoughts to happier things as she trekked the familiar path to her former home. Nicolai slept in the safety of their cottage cellar. While he’d undoubtedly feel furious upon discovering that she’d made the journey alone, he’d remain safe until she returned.

  The shield of daylight gave her courage she didn’t have at night. Nicolai couldn’t follow her and put himself in the line of fire.

  Similarly, as long as she stayed with Kenneth, he couldn’t search for Nicolai.

  After this—after doing something­—perhaps her life could take route down a happier path. She didn’t have any delusions of leaving her Guardian on amiable terms, but some resolution would undeniably feel better than none.

  She still hadn’t decided whether or not she would tell Kenneth goodbye. With as much faith as Nicolai had placed in her courage, it felt almost a disservice to his love for her to remain silent. At the same time, however, her mate understood that her courage did not stand unreasonably resolute. She feared when fear felt appropriate, and while she didn’t believe Kenneth would ever do anything to physically harm her, it didn’t make the threat of his wrath any less terrifying.

  This one final hurdle…

  She could do this. She could. She couldn’t let Nicolai coddle her, no matter how tempting it felt or how often she felt he wanted to. She was strong, and she was her own person, stubborn and independent. She wouldn’t take defeat lying down.

  A strange sense of familiarity settled over her the second she saw the entrance to the Mal cottage. Ravenna stopped short and dragged her hair out of her face, a long sigh heaving from her chest, her heart thundering.

  She had to do this.

  It felt beyond bizarre, fearing something she used to do every day, something as simple as walking through the front door of a place that used to be her home.

  Ravenna inhaled sharply and thought of Nicolai.

  She could do this. For him she could do this.

  There were certain things she didn’t remember like the long whine of the entryway door or how her footsteps echoed across the wooden floor. Her chest ached and her breaths trembled, and it seemed that the reverberation sounded far and wide through the cottage’s solemn walls.

  She didn’t remember being so aware of herself before.

  “You look mightily like a foreigner trespassing upon unexplored land,” a dark, rough voice observed from the far right corner of the small room. Ravenna whirled around, her eyes immediately finding Kenneth’s. He sat in a wooden chair he’d fashioned for himself years ago, a bottle of wine open at his side and a goblet resting in his hands. “Would you like a drink, my dear?”

  “It’s early.”

  “Not for us, I don’t think. Those who walk with the night adhere to a different set of rules.” He arched a brow, reaching for the unused glass sitting opposite the wine bottle. The silent indication spoke volumes. He’d anticipated her arrival. “Have a drink, Ravie.”

  Ravenna frowned and fought off an inward shudder. She hated the name. Ravie was a girl’s name, not befitting a woman of her stature. Kenneth had called her that all through her childhood, but she had not felt like a Ravie ever, not once, and definitely not now. She was Ravenna, One of the Few.

&n
bsp; Though more and more, she felt like Raven.

  “Please,” Kenneth prodded, waving the drink at her. “I insist. I didn’t teach you to forget your manners when in the presence of elders.”

  “No, sir,” she agreed softly, accepting the glass reluctantly. She hadn’t come here to drink.

  “Have a seat, Ravie,” Kenneth said. “We have much to discuss.”

  She found herself obeying before her mind could catch up with her. “I came here to—”

  “To barter? To plead your case for your vampire lover? To tell me how he whispered poetry in your ear and did sinful things to your body? How he made you a woman?” Kenneth arched a condescending brow and sipped at his wine, indicating silently that she should do the same. Again, she found herself obeying. She felt helpless to do anything else. “Please, Ravie. Spare an old man the details of your disgusting trysts. I don’t wish to know of it.”

  She swallowed hard, tears blurring her vision. “I never meant to displease you.”

  “You have an odd way of showing it.” Kenneth sighed heavily and rose to his feet, his hands sliding into his pockets. “I don’t suppose you have given much thought to how this affair of yours has affected me, have you? I raised you as my own, Ravie. I taught you everything you know. I gave you all the care a father could muster for a daughter, especially knowing the destiny you were to fulfill. Did it never occur to you that I forfeited my own right to happiness for the sake of the duty I vowed to upkeep?”

  Ravenna took another impulsive swig of wine and shook her head.

  “There are things greater than us in this world, greater than earthly desires and other such flights of fancy. When priests take their holy vows, do you know what they are asked to sacrifice? Hmm?” Kenneth arched a brow, his fingers tapping the side of his goblet. “Possession, attachment, while embracing celibacy and chastity, of course, for they are married to God and God alone. No woman should ever come between the Lord and—”

  “But I am not a priest!” Ravenna protested, leaping to her feet. “And neither are you.”

  “Are you implying our mission is not in some way holy? We fight the demons of Hell itself. Nothing should stand between us and the calling which has been bestowed upon us.”

  “Priests choose their fate, Kenneth,” she argued. “They are not arbitrarily selected from birth to be summoned for service to God.”

  “Does the Lord not put the summons in the hearts of men?”

  Her jaw fell slack and words gathered in her throat, but none would come.

  “Priests, bishops and all members of the Church are designed to protect the demons of men’s minds and hearts,” Kenneth continued. “We are to protect people from the tangible demons of this world.”

  A strangled choke fought her throat for freedom. “I didn’t choose this,” Ravenna gasped.

  “Nor did I, but you find I honor my calling.”

  “Your calling is to sit here and teach me tricks that will save my life most of the time but not all the time.” She threw her hands up in exasperation and her wine glass went soaring through the air, shattering some distance from them in a hundred pieces. Neither blinked or followed its flight. Their eyes were locked on each other. “I will eventually die doing what I do. And then what? An entire life thrown away at the High Council’s choosing—”

  “You will die protecting the world. All of your kind do.”

  “Armageddon doesn’t lurk around every corner, Kenneth, no matter what your priests tell you.”

  He didn’t flinch. “Even if the Few do not die averting Armageddon, they still sacrifice their lives in the fight against evil. The fight will eventually conclude in the world’s end, child. Surely I have not failed you so much that you don’t realize this?”

  Her nerves tingled. The air around her head felt monstrously thick, but she fought through it. Her eyes remained locked on Kenneth. She couldn’t allow him the upper ground. “You haven’t failed me at all.”

  He looked slightly taken aback at that. “And yet you roll in filth every night.”

  “Nicolai is not filth.”

  “Ah. So the devil has a name, does it?”

  Ravenna stepped forward, though her feet were confused and a wave of dizziness crashed over her head. “Nicolai is not an it,” she practically snarled, her hands blindly searching for a surface on which to maintain her balance. “He’s…he’s…”

  “The devil assumes many pleasing forms,” Kenneth mused, almost to himself. “It is easy to see how one might be tempted.”

  “Nicolai is not the devil, you callous bastard!”

  “Of course he’s not, child. He’s merely the demon who seduced you away from your calling.”

  “I love him.” The words sounded feeble, but they needed to be said. “I don’t care what he is. He’s mine. I love him. You can’t take him from me.”

  A long silence eclipsed, and he only glared. No condemnation or anger or righteous outbursts on how entangled she was in sin. Only the cold harshness of his eyes and the whispers of nature outside the cottage walls existed. She didn’t want to betray weakness by looking away. She refused.

  “No,” Kenneth said at last, his voice dropping in something almost resembling defeat. “I don’t suppose I can.”

  On those words, Ravenna went crashing to the floor. Pain pierced her every inch, spreading through her veins and leaking through her insides, a slow crawling disease which zapped her will and stole her strength. Her vision blurred, and her throat ran dry. She tried to scream but her voice had abandoned her. Instead, she seemed left only with the stoic face of her Guardian, who looked on dispassionately while nursing the rest of his wine.

  “The fact remains that it would be much easier to take you from him,” he said after a long, haunted pause. “Especially with what you are.”

  Ravenna’s mouth opened and she tried to speak. The air stung with the hoarse cry she produced, and mocked her in the words it denied her.

  Kenneth blinked. “Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “I haven’t killed you. Even after betraying your calling, I couldn’t do that. What you’re feeling are the effects of a potent drug Guardians utilize on rogue warriors, mixed and brewed, of course, with my own special ingredients. It’s much better to have you fully incapacitated than merely without your ordinary strength.”

  Her eyes went wide, her skin suddenly dry and her body incapable of producing tears.

  Kenneth had drugged her? He’d drugged her?

  She glanced to the shattered pieces of her fallen glass.

  “Yes,” he agreed, nodding as though she’d said something. “I’d imagine you’re very angry. I would be, too, were I in your shoes. No matter. I expect you’ll black out before the searing pain kicks in.”

  Ravenna made a sound which would have been a scream had her voice cooperated.

  “There is a rumor a witch inhabits the village,” he continued. “A rather nasty witch at that. The rumor started several months ago when Mr. Wells noted the appearance of a boggart in his armoire. He claims a young woman appeared to assist him with the matter, utilizing means well beyond her physical capabilities.”

  An angry growl tore at her throat.

  Mr. Wells. The boggart.

  That seemed so long ago. Just three nights after she and Nicolai first made love.

  “Mr. Wells was naturally quite fearful,” Kenneth continued, his voice adapting a tone only a schoolmaster could duplicate. “He believes the young woman in question bewitched his armoire. As only one of extraordinary power could inflict such a creature in this world, only one of extraordinary power could remove it. The poor chap. His luck has been rather unsavory lately. I don’t suppose you heard that all his crops have wilted? And his livestock are growing sicker by the day.”

  Kenneth knew she’d never touched magicks in her life. He kept his books in his room, a place she had never entered or cared to. If Mr. Wells had been cursed, it was her Guardian’s doing.

  She was just a convenient scapegoat.

/>   “It doesn’t help that uncommonly loud, often satanic sounds are heard from that cottage you’re regularly seen entering,” he added. “The one I investigated last night to find woefully empty. And I believe you have similarly been spotted at the graveyard, associating with demons and other creatures that defy the laws of death.”

  The Guardian’s eyes met hers, and every nerve in her body froze.

  “I’m afraid I misjudged you, Ravie,” he said regretfully. “I can’t well have a practicing witch under my roof. The townspeople have taken a vote. No, no. There is no need for a trial, dear. You see, I am considered your guardian. I speak for you in all public affairs. You are a strange, unnatural girl. Never mingle with the youths in town. Never seen but at night. Always lurking about when something mysterious happens. It’s all very vexing.”

  Shapes around her began to blur and swirl in a collage of color. Kenneth at once sounded very far away.

  Very far…

  “Sleep well, Ravenna. I’m afraid I won’t attend the burning. The thought of watching you die is unbearable.”

  Her head shrieked in agony, her throbbing temples pushing her toward dementia as tremors seized her limbs and the ground began to roll beneath her. Her stomach turned, and her heart felt close to exploding, and try as she might, she could not scream. She could not call for help.

  God, how had she been so blind?

  Nicolai.

  Ravenna’s lips tore apart, a choking sob fighting for freedom.

  I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

  It was the last thing she thought before the world turned black.

  Chapter 13

  Present Day

  He didn’t recognize her as Ravenna. He only knew her as Raven.

  She had to remember that. If nothing else, she had to keep her wits long enough to understand that the eyes staring her down didn’t recall sweeping over her naked flesh with shameless admiration or gazing endlessly into hers as their bodies rocked together. He didn’t remember laughing under her merciless hands as she tickled him, or holding her until it was impossible to tell where she ended and he began, or twirling her in the falling rain as the sky roared and thundered above them. He didn’t remember kissing her brow whenever she fell asleep in his arms. He remembered nothing.