The Kala Trilogy: An Urban Fantasy Box Set

by Teagan Kearney

  She let it go. She had too much of her own stuff to deal with right now. Whatever was bothering him, it wasn't her problem. By the time she reached the summit, she was out of breath and stood for a minute, enjoying the autumn air cooling the sweat trickling down her back.

  Changing Sky sat waiting for her on the steps of his home. For as long as she'd known him, he looked the same, his gray-white hair in a braid down his back, a weathered face, and eyes that could see into your soul.

  "Who was that?" she asked.

  "You know what he is?"

  "A shifter."

  "Which species?"

  She remembered the way his nostrils had flared as he'd approached her. She remembered his growl. "Werewolf."

  "Good. Go and sit on the other side. I'll bring tea."

  Changing Sky's familiar presence lifted her mood. In spite of his name, the shaman was always the same; patient and wise. He had placed wooden benches on both sides of his cabin: one that looked over his people, and one that looked over the land. Depending on his mood or the needs of his callers, he would choose one view or the other.

  She sat down, and in no time cradled a warm cup between her hands, inhaling the tea's sweet-smelling perfume. Changing Sky made the best sage tea she had ever tasted. She'd watched him and he did nothing different, hot water over dried sage leaves; she attributed it to the magic in his hands, because when she drank it, somehow the world was set right.

  The two of them sat side by side without speaking, and from time to time Changing Sky refilled her cup. They sipped in silence, contemplating the landscape.

  Orleton had been built on one of the Western Plateau’s large expanses of flat grassland scattered throughout the small mountain range. To the west of the town, the land rose in a steady series of rocky ridges and forested slopes, and to the east, gradually dipped down to vast flat plains.

  The reservation occupied the plateau’s southern edge, and extended out into the plains, where the land received less rainfall than the north-eastern grasslands, and hadn’t appeared overly attractive to the expanding white settlers. But the tribe had survived. They were practiced in adversity.

  Today, there wasn't a cloud in sight and the bright afternoon sunshine turned the plains grassland to gold, generously dotted here and there with dark stands of trees.

  "You are still not calm, Little Sister." Changing Sky’s name for her. "You need to practice more often so your lessons become part of you. You must remember what is important if you want to benefit from my teaching."

  He was right. Since Aunt Lil had fallen ill, Tatya had neglected her shamanic practice. She bowed her head, and without warning, the whole story of the night in the parking lot and the day that followed came spilling out. She included everything Vanse had said since then.

  "Mmm..." said Changing Sky. Information was a meal to be digested slowly, he'd told her once, not a snack.

  "There's more," she said, and recounted her dream.

  Changing Sky brewed more tea, and they watched the sun sink lower in the sky.

  "What do you make of it?" she asked at last.

  "I will make a spirit walk and consult with Aditsan. We are the eldest among our people and together have much wisdom. I will also pray to the Spirits Above." The shaman stood. "You must go. Your friends are getting anxious. I will come and see you when I know more."

  Since meeting Changing Sky, her powers had developed and increased in scope and strength. The shaman wasn't given to displays of affection, preferring his students to perfect their lessons, but there was no doubting his wisdom or his benevolence.

  Tatya was gathering her courage to tell him how grateful she was to have him as her mentor when her phone rang, and her mind filled with images of screaming nurses running in the hospital corridors. She was as aware of her aunt's panic as if she stood next to her, then—nothing. Her heart hammered under her ribcage. She flipped her phone open. "Corwin, what's going on?"

  "I don't want to be the one to tell you, but if I don't, you'll be real mad at me, so I will tell you."

  She took a breath. "It's Aunt Lil, isn't it?"

  "No, it's the coma victims. Your aunt's fine."

  The squeezing sensation in the middle of her chest eased. "I'm coming."

  "It's under control, Tatya."

  "I'm still coming."

  Sean and the guards stood open-mouthed as she gunned her truck, disappearing down the road in a swirl of dust.

  Chapter Eight: The First Stirrings

  Something serious was up. The main hospital gates were closed and guarded by the oddest couple—a police officer and a vampire. The gates should have been open for evening visiting hours, with people coming and going. Instead, Corwin, a frown on his forehead, huddled deep in conversation with several police officers.

  Tatya stopped her car outside the gates. "Hey, Corwin," she yelled.

  He looked up, saw her and waved at the guards to open the gate.

  "Park here." The officer glared at her, and pointed to a nearby spot.

  Sean's car squealed to a halt as the gates clanged shut. As she got out of her car, slamming the door, she heard him arguing with the policeman and demanding to be allowed entrance.

  Corwin left his conference and headed toward her, Bellamy in tow.

  Tatya looked the young deputy over; tie loosened, jacket unbuttoned, shirt crumpled and not nearly as dapper as when she'd first met him. Working with Corwin did that to people.

  "Those coma victims," he said, shooting a glare at Bellamy, as they walked toward the hospital entrance. "They woke up."

  "You're sure Aunt Lil is okay?"

  "Oh, I'm sure. You've got friends in high places, I mean low places; their headquarters are in the basement."

  "Corwin! What are you talking about?"

  "Vanse put extra guards on your aunt's floor."

  "Oh."

  "I know you don't want to hear it, but I've got a sneaky feeling ol' Vanse the vamp has a soft spot for you."

  Tatya grimaced. "Please, Corwin, tell me something that'll cheer me up."

  As they entered the hospital, Tatya's senses spiked. Something was very wrong, and she didn't have to lower her guard to see the violet and red streaks of rage roiling through the ether. She strengthened her shields.

  "That's the good news. The bad news is when they woke, they were stark raving mad. They attacked and killed two security guards, one nurse and a patient before Vanse's people put them out of action."

  That explained the colors. "Out of action?"

  "Shot them full of silver bullets. It seems someone turned them, and even Vanse's vamps didn't have an easy time putting them down. Once they'd done that, they took them away; to finish them, they said."

  Tatya's stomach heaved, and she swallowed hard.

  Corwin pressed the elevator button. "Funny thing is they weren't aiming for the entrance, they were going up."

  The intensive care unit was on the first floor, private patients on the fourth. The elevator arrived.

  "I'll catch you later."

  "Thanks, Corwin." She gave him a peck on the cheek.

  "You take care, now. I'll be in touch."

  When the elevator door opened, the fourth floor resembled the cleanup scene in a crime movie. Men in white plastic jumpsuits, shoe covers, gloves, the lot, were finishing up what looked like a very messy job. One man scrubbed at a stubborn stain on the wall. The crimson and purple waves lapping at her defenses told her someone had died a sudden death here. She guessed they didn't need to preserve the crime scene.

  The two stone-faced vamps on guard at the security door stared through her as she nodded to them. The door to the ward, always open, was closed, but they allowed her to pass without question. Two more vamps stood outside her aunt's door.

  She hated feeling obligated to anyone, especially a vampire and especially to Vanse, but couldn't suppress the grudging appreciation for his protection. Vanse had an agenda. She didn't know yet what it entailed, but she was one hundr
ed percent certain he had one. She had no doubt when the time came, he'd let her know what price he wanted her to pay.

  Aunt Lil was sleeping, and her complexion looked healthier; not quite roses in her cheeks yet, but getting there. Her aunt opened her eyes and smiled. "Tatya."

  Tatya kissed her and sat on the chair by the bed.

  "You missed the excitement."

  "I went to visit Changing Sky."

  "And the best place for you. Give him my regards next time you see him."

  "You'll be home soon and you can give them to him yourself."

  Tatya hoped Aunt Lil didn't know what had taken place. She couldn't imagine doctors dispensing information to elderly women about coma patients who woke up as rampaging vampires.

  "Your dark handsome young man came to visit, but when he was here, I heard a lot of, well, to be honest, Tatya, it sounded as if people were fighting. Banging and growling, and my goodness me! But your friend kept me company, and I felt safe."

  So Aunt Lil had heard something, and maybe Vanse's appearance was the reason her panic had abated? She wouldn't argue, but she clamped her jaw shut at the words, 'your young man' and 'your friend'. As far as she was concerned, Vanse was neither. Not now. Not in the future. Not ever. She stayed with her aunt till she drifted off to sleep again, kissed her on the forehead and tiptoed out.

  Tatya arrived home around eight, with Sean and his crew pulling into the driveway close behind her. The sun had set, and a band of pale blue remained over to the west, fading into the encroaching night. Above, the sky was clear of clouds as the first stars appeared, and a thinning moon peeped above the trees. Tatya shivered at the chill in the air. She'd just put the key in the lock when a soft clearing of a throat made her whirl around.

  "Tatiana."

  Tatya had hated her name since her first day attending school in Orleton. The teacher had done the roll call using her given name of Tatiana, looked up and asked, was that really her name? And the whole class snickered. Her school life from that moment until she graduated high school meant she had to endure variations of Tatty, Tootsie, TaTa, etc. Growing up, she swore she'd change it as soon as she was legally old enough. However, by the time she left for college, she'd grown into, and even liked the shortened endearment of Tatya, first used by Aunt Lil, and now by most people who knew her. She still found it hard to be called Tatiana. Only her parents had ever used her full name.

  "Tatiana?"

  Her heart quickened at the sound of Vanse's voice. Why hadn't she sensed his presence?

  "May I come in?"

  "No. Why?"

  "Because you will get cold standing out here without a coat." His lips held the hint of a smile.

  "Keep it short and I'll be fine. I've survived worse." Oh, God, that was a stupid thing to say to a vampire who'd saved you from another, even worse vampire only a couple of days ago. "What do you want?"

  His voice deepened. "I’d rather not, but I can compel you."

  The gold flickering at the edge of her vision told her he meant it. "Okay. Just this one time, I invite you in." That amused, mocking look was back; she'd swear he enjoyed baiting her. Leading the way into the living room, she pointed to the couch and settled herself opposite him. She tucked her feet up and sat cross-legged, determined not to let him see how he rattled her. "Forgive my rudeness as a host, but I won't be offering you a drink."

  "Those vampires were heading for your aunt's room."

  The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees.

  "How do you know that? And why should they want my aunt?" A knot of fear twisted her gut.

  "Before we staked them, we interrogated them. It was difficult. Whoever turned them destroyed their minds, left them feral; we got nothing much of use out of them. We discovered the one impulse motivating their awakening." Vanse paused. The grandfather clock ticked loud in the silence hanging between them.

  "Well, tell me." What kind of game was he playing now?

  "Kill your aunt." He leaned forward, studying her reaction. Tatya didn't move a muscle.

  "Who turned them? You can tell that, can't you?"

  Humans hadn't a clue how they did it, but a vampire could always discern who'd turned another vampire.

  A darkness wavering at the edges of her sanity told her the answer, but she wanted to hear him say the name out loud.

  "Angelus."

  The grandfather clock chimed once; eight fifteen.

  "Why is he interested in me? Or my aunt? What have we ever done to him?" Now she was angry, but she preferred anger because it pushed the fear away.

  "It's an old story, Tatiana, and for the moment it's better you don't know."

  Vanse gazed at her, deep melancholy on his face.

  For a second she thought he would cry. Holy Spirits above! What next? Maybe she should write a column—agony aunt to the vamps? "Gee, thanks for sharing such vital information."

  "You couldn't bear to live if you had experienced, or even witnessed, a fraction of the suffering and pain I have."

  "Yeah, I can see how killing people and drinking their blood might drive me to an early death."

  "Enough!" A glimpse of the power he could wield flashed in his eyes.

  Tatya blinked but didn't look away.

  "Angelus needs you."

  "Needs me? For what? I'm a healer who grows herbs. Okay, I have a few psychic powers on the side, but nothing major. Why the big interest in me?"

  "All I can tell you is that if you give yourself to him," he paused.

  She recalled the way her body had reacted to Angelus. Remembering his absolute dominance over her, a ripple of pleasure shivered over her skin. Vanse's mouth tightened, and she knew he was aware of her emotions. If Vanse hadn't saved her, she would have done anything Angelus asked. She cut off the memory.

  "Tatiana, you have not even started to access the power inside you. If Angelus controls you, he controls your powers, and together with his, he will take over and dominate the vampire race. Think of the repercussions for your species."

  Tatya stared at him. She was having difficulty keeping her mouth closed.

  "You threw me across the room, remember?"

  She didn't know how she'd done that. The echo of a memory surfaced; when she was twelve, she'd come home from school after an argument with a friend. Seething with anger, she’d stood in her bedroom, clenched her fists and the glass in the window exploded. But she hadn't understood how she'd done it then, and she sure didn't know how to do it again.

  "Angelus is not just a vampire, he's half-demon."

  Tatya shook her head. This was too much information to take on board at one hearing. She was well educated on the range of supernaturals that occupied the planet alongside humans. Vampires, werewolves, witches, and sorcerers were the most visible; fairies, elves, trolls, dwarves remained hidden; angels visited. Demons had been defeated and banished eons ago; they rarely ventured onto this plane of existence of their own volition, although they were more than willing to accept invitations.

  "By becoming half-vampire," Vanse continued,"Angelus has hidden among us for a long time. But if he is to fulfill his ambitions, he must increase his demonic side. For that, he needs one thing."

  "And that one thing is me?"

  "Demons do not experience time in the same way as you, or even I. His pursuit of power has been going on for many, many centuries."

  She recalled her dream of a Bard with blue eyes, and red-gold hair. When her phone rang, she'd never been so relieved to hear its ringtone. She got up and pulled it out of her jeans back pocket, moving toward the door. Phone calls were private; she didn't want him listening to hers. Vanse stood as if to follow her.

  "Stay," she said and walked out of the room. Vanse followed but stood in the doorway. A small smile played around the corners of his mouth as he watched her.

  "What's up, Corwin?" Something normal, she prayed.

  "Ten more coma victims have been brought in. Same MO as the others. But one is still lucid. If you're
up for it, I'd like you to try to get a trace on this Angelus's location. Can you get here quick before we lose him?"

  She put the phone away, took a deep breath and studied Vanse, as he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze focused on her.

  "I advise you not to do this."

  "You know? Of course, you do. That telepathy thing. You guys must save a bomb in phone bills."

  "Do not underestimate how risky any contact with Angelus is for you."

  "Do I want to track down the vampire who almost killed me and is trying to kill my aunt? I'm not a coward." She shot him a withering look.

  "Then we must hurry."

  Vanse folded his long legs into the front of the truck squeezing Sean closer to her; a musky sandalwood scent pervaded the air. Trying to get him to sit in the other car was a waste of time they didn't have, and she was just glad he sat in the seat by the door. With three people in the front, the thought of his body pressing against hers was a distraction she didn't want to deal with right now.

  "You might consider staying at the hospital. We have ample quarters available. You could choose."

  "I'm fine where I am," she said through gritted teeth, and pressed hard on the accelerator, sending gravel flying into the windscreen of the car behind as she shot out of her drive and onto the road.

  "As you wish."

  She refused to look at him; she knew he wore that smirk. This time, despite every effort to lose them, their escort stayed right behind her. She suspected they didn't want to be chewed out by the boss.

  Corwin waited for her outside the patient's room. "You're sure you're up for this, Tat?"

  "Wouldn't be here if I wasn't. Open the door, Bill."

  Tatya entered the room and studied the young man as he lay convulsing on a hospital bed, his movements restrained by leather straps across his forehead, torso, arms, and legs. He had a blonde-brown crew-cut, a snub nose, and a body built like a tank. He was most likely an athlete who played quarterback for a local team. Or used to, before he met Angelus. His eyes fluttered open, but by his expression, he was replaying the raw horror of whatever nightmare had come to life, staring in terror at something no one else could see.