The Kala Trilogy: An Urban Fantasy Box Set

by Teagan Kearney

  Heavy crimson tinged storm clouds pressed down, lightning strikes flaring and splitting the earth. The air, stifling, oppressive, was unnaturally hot. Despite the sweltering temperature, the sun appeared to have forsaken the earth. As Angelus walked, Tatya by his side, the horde parted, opening a wide avenue. Angelus’s legions shrieked and bayed their approval as he resumed walking, their ghastly tumult deafening. Those with swords and shields banged one against the other, drumming a rhythm, slow, quiet at first, till the sound became a wild accompaniment as they increased the volume and speed of the beat. Others chanted a monotonous drone underneath the drumming. The cacophony cascaded outward in awful, disruptive waves, the pulsating throbbing invaded her mind, drowning everything.

  The truck screeched to a stop in the middle of the road, images still flashing vividly before her inner sight as she relived the trauma. Tatya stared ahead, not seeing the hospital grounds and building as the memory replayed. She leaned forward, resting her head on the steering wheel. No, no, no. This could not happen again. They had banished Angelus to Hell.

  Horns beeped and someone tapped at the window. She stared into a man’s concerned face. “Are you okay, ma’am?”

  She struggled to answer. Vanse. She had to get to Vanse. He needed her. She started the engine, and sped off, leaving the bewildered pedestrian staring after her.

  Tatya slid into a spot marked ‘Doctors’, ignored the security guard’s hand waving, and strode through the main doors. At one time, way back in what she now called ‘before’, she’d visited regularly when patients she’d been treating had been admitted. She’d become more familiar than she wanted to with the hospital when first Sean, and then Aunt Lil had ended up here. Neither left the hospital alive. She’d taught herself to consider the whole affair a bad dream, a nightmare, that’s all. She swallowed as traces of her earlier vision lingered at the edges of her awareness. The equilibrium she’d worked to achieve appeared more and more tenuous.

  “This way.”

  The lightest of touches on her arm, a soft breath in her ear. She turned. “Are you Fabio?” She vaguely remembered seeing him with Vanse.

  The vampire nodded, and led her over to the far elevator where a second vamp waited. Within seconds they dropped to the basement.

  She followed him as he strode along corridors, passed half a dozen guards and they were waved into Vanse’s quarters.

  Vanse lay in the middle of his king-sized bed, eyes closed, his breathing shallow and fast. He wore nothing but a pair of loose cotton shorts; his golden chest gleamed slick with sweat, and his legs were entangled in the sheets. A young man was attempting to wipe Vanse’s face, but every time he leaned forward and the cloth touched his skin, Vanse shivered violently.

  Tatya rushed over and grabbed the cloth, pushing the helper out of the way. “How long has he been like this?”

  “Since this morning. When I brought his morning coffee, he didn’t answer. We forced our way in and found him like this.”

  Tatya smoothed the damp hair off Vanse’s forehead.

  He was burning up.

  When human fever rose this high, death followed soon after. However, vampire metabolism absorbed and neutralized infections and poisons with an efficiency that would see them as lab rats for human life extension programs if certain scientists had their way. Luckily vamps had performed enough service to humanity in two world wars to be granted the same rights as humans by the UN.

  To say it was unusual for a master vampire with a history as long as Vanse to succumb to a fever was an understatement. Before seeing him this way, she’d have said it was impossible.

  He sighed at her touch, his restlessness lessening a fraction. He turned toward her, and his eyes opened but he watched something only he could see.

  Tatya turned to the young man who’d been attending Vanse. “You can leave, and you,” she addressed Fabio, ‘stand the other side of the bed and get ready to restrain him.”

  The young vamp shot a look at Fabio, who gave a brief nod, then exited.

  “Good. I’ll open the bond.” She climbed onto the bed, positioning herself next to Vanse.

  “Tatya!” A whisper. He stared straight at her, recognition dawning, then immediately relapsed into his previous feverish state.

  She stroked his forehead. “Shush. Lie still. We’ll fix this. Together. We always do.” She’d never seen Vanse other than strong. Worried? Yes. Anxious? Yes. Even fearful for her welfare and safety. But vulnerable? Never. And now, when she’d decided she wanted to be with him, this was happening. If he could become infected, then there was also the possibility he could die. She refused to contemplate the prospect of a life without Vanse. There was no way she’d lose him. She looked at his semi-conscious body trembling with fevered heat. Lowering her shields and laying her hands on his chest, she sent her awareness into his body. She could feel the corruption a subtle darkness sliding underneath his power.

  He was fighting the contamination and the more he struggled to reject the invader, the higher his temperature rose, as he attempted to eliminate the pollution in his bloodstream.

  Without thinking, she opened the link, drew on her power, and poured it into him. The golden chain pulsed with bright dazzling energy. The Bandrui chant surged, adding its strength to Tatya’s, flooding his body.

  Vanse bucked, his back stiffening into an impossible arc as the invader fought eviction. A powerful malevolence had breached Vanse’s wards, and Tatya recoiled at the sharp stab of contact. Drops of blood leaked through his skin where her hand touched his chest, and he shivered violently.

  Fabio reached across, placing his hands over hers to keep them in place, adding his strength to hers. His powers were minimal compared to Vanse’s, but love for his master added to the momentum, and the darkness receded. They held together, thrusting against and cleansing the corruption until the connection was clear, and the infection purged.

  Vanse opened his eyes, blinking as he returned to normality. “Thank you, Tatya.” He placed his hands on top of hers and the link quietened. He closed his eyes again. One minute later, he sat up. “Wait outside,” he ordered Fabio.

  Fabio bowed and left.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Vanse told Tatya, “we need to talk, but I must shower first.”

  Wow. Just like that, everything’s back to normal. No fever, no shadows, and as usual, he was bossing everyone around. She waited for him in the lounge, making herself comfortable in one of the two large luxuriously upholstered armchairs. She was thinking she should be getting back to the shop when Vanse emerged, bathed and dressed in a crisp fresh white shirt and black pants. Her heart beat a little faster. Aunt Lil had called him the dark handsome one, and she’d been right, he was a good-looking specimen of manhood.

  A smile played around his lips, and his eyes twinkled, but he sobered as he sat opposite her. “Thank you, Tatya. I’m much better.”

  “Isn’t rescuing each other what we do? And anyway, who’s keeping score?” She recalled their last conversation, but she’d been wrapped up getting the shop ready, she’d forgotten Vanse’s revelation. Now she felt guilty. “Is this related to what you told me the other day?”

  “This is not your fault, Tatya. I should have told you before, but I didn’t want to worry you.” A sliver of comfort pulsed along the connection.

  “Is any of this connected to him?”

  “I don’t know, Tatya.”

  She caught a flicker of grief, anguish, or heartache, but before she could interpret the emotion, he shut down. “What else are you not telling me?”

  “I’ve been having blackouts.”

  “Blackouts?”

  “Yes, your hearing is fine.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Two or maybe three times now, I go to sleep and I wake up somewhere else.”

  “What do you mean somewhere else?”

  “In another place,” his voice was sharp. “Stop interrupting and listen. As I said, I wake up on a street in town, in the hospi
tal car park, and I don’t know how I got there.”

  Tatya said nothing. There was no mistaking the misery on his face. “If there’s a connection between these incidents and dreaming about Angelus we have to find it.” If fear prevented her from saying his name, he’d won a victory, and she wouldn’t give him that if she could help it.

  “When I realize where I am, he is gone. I can sense my people, but that’s all.”

  “Sleepwalking?” she ventured.

  “Since this has been happening I am sleeping as little as possible.”

  “But surely when you sleep, everything must catch up with you? Perhaps you sleep deeper than normal?”

  “No. To stay awake, I draw more from my demon half.”

  “Oh. You don’t think this, how shall I put it, this increased level of demonic power, has anything to do with your dreams, black outs and this fever?”

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve used my unfortunate heritage to my advantage. Without ill effects.”

  His admission stunned her. Why had he never mentioned this? How much of his demonic aspect had been ascendant when he gave her his blood? Was it possible she was more demon than vampire? Whenever she thought she was getting closer to him, the playing field shifted, and she was as ignorant of who he was as when she’d first seen him.

  “But I’ve not needed to for a long, long time.”

  Tatya released the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Whew. “Good to know,” she muttered.

  “Have you met with Changing Sky yet?”

  “No. I’m sorry. I’ve been real busy with the shop.”

  “When do you open?”

  “To-day. I opened to-day.”

  He sighed. “It seems we’ve both been preoccupied. Tatya, I need to feed.”

  Tatya had never, at any point in their time together, seen him drink blood. She supposed it came in legal blood donor packs. Much the same as drinking cranberry juice from a carton. Or whatever. But discussing the taste of cranberries or blood with a hungry vampire wasn’t a good idea, especially when she knew how dangerous this one could be. Luckily, he was on her side. She checked her watch. “It’s not too late. I’m heading out to visit Changing Sky.”

  “What about your business?”

  “I want some answers first.”

  Chapter Thirteen: Changing Sky

  Tatya sat cross-legged on a blanket outside Changing Sky’s cabin.

  “Drink.” The shaman handed her a cup of sage tea. “Breathe and compose yourself. Remember your training.”

  Tatya complied, sipping the fragrant hot liquid, breathing slow and studying the view. The shaman’s home was on the top of a hill and the scene never failed to calm her mind. Even at this distance, spring’s signature marked the earth. The land dipped in small rolling waves, and the short grass shivered in the fresh wind. She watched a pair of hawks wheel and circle in the sky above the stands of trees. Winter’s bitter cold had departed, but summer’s heat had not yet arrived. If she extended her awareness, she’d sense the sprouting of buds and new leaves pushing up from the warming earth.

  “What’s bothering you, Tatya?”

  Even though her teacher’s presence had soothed her earlier agitation, Changing Sky could read her like a book. He’d been her mentor since her teenage years, after a worried Aunt Lil contacted him about training her to control her burgeoning abilities. She had absolute trust in him. He’d come to her rescue when she needed it, gifting his spirit guides to her in the fight against Angelus. She told him how she was helping the sheriff, about the bite marks on the necks of two young women, and of the worrying development with Vanse.

  “Can you contact Otakay to see if he has any more information? Or do a scrying for Vanse?” She sipped the cooling tea, watching an eagle wheel in the high sky above, searching for prey.

  “There is no time to waste. If uninvited beings are again walking this plane, then we must find out and prepare.”

  Tatya drank the rest of the tea and followed him into the cabin.

  The kitchen was small, but as the tribal healer, without a wife, he rarely had to cook for himself though he made a mean corn chowder. Instead, he received constant invitations to eat with families, which Tatya knew he accepted as it kept his relationships strong, or people sent him meals out of respect and gratitude. The center of the living area was used as a working space. Several wooden chests sat along one wall, a faded blue rug covered most of the floor. Dreamcatchers, an ancient beaded waistcoat, necklaces, several spears and a majestic carved bow, its smooth aged surface covered with sigils and its quiver filled with arrows, adorned the walls. A door at the rear led to his personal living quarters.

  He opened a wooden chest, handing her tied bunches of sage, dried cedar and a lighter.

  Tatya lit the incense, first, the cedar to cleanse and remove unwanted presences, then the sage to welcome in benevolent energy, and moved clockwise around the room, waving the incense in small circles. After finishing, she stuck the two smoking bunches into holders on the east and west walls.

  As he prepared the sacred space, Changing Sky laid out offerings to those whose help he sought. Rare eagle feathers, colored stones whose striated surfaces contained unusual minerals, grains, wheat, and corn, placed in intricately designed baskets. His final preparatory act was to hang four elaborate pahos, one for each direction, on an empty hook on each wall. These prayers ascended to the Spirits Above, requesting their protection during the seeking. With the preparations complete, he dug out a small deerskin covered drum.

  Tatya smiled as he handed it to her, and her fingers stroked its familiar surface, stirring up memories.

  As a strong hedge witch, Aunt Lil had suppressed Tatya’s abilities as a child after her parents died, because the emotional turmoil had accelerated their emergence before Tatya learned control. When her growing powers began leaking through her Aunt’s barriers, Tatya might have landed in an institution for a long time if Changing Sky hadn’t come into their lives. He’d divined that her greatest gift was for healing, shown her how to harness her strength, and taken her on as his apprentice. During her training, and after, she often assisted him by playing this drum during his spirit journeys when the drum beat created an anchor, a link, binding the astral body of the seeker to the vibration which resonated on every plane. If the anchoring beat became irregular or was disturbed in any way, this had the potential to be life-threatening. The soul could wander, lose its way and never return.

  “Sit.” Changing Sky indicated the wall bearing the huge bow. “North for the adversity we must face. Add an extra layer of shielding over both of us.”

  He positioned himself in the center of the carpet, and both closed their eyes, pulling their senses inward and closing out distractions before beginning. “Shields up.”

  Tatya obeyed, the command triggering the response she’d learned when Changing Sky introduced her to more esoteric techniques for attack and defense. Healers can also be warriors when necessary, he’d instructed. She breathed in the fragrance of the burning incense, focusing on the in and out of her breath. A pregnant silence pervaded the room, broken only by the occasional hiss of the incense burning. Outside a wind had sprung up, a faint keening accompaniment in the distance.

  At a nod from Changing Sky, Tatya began drumming, a slow steady rhythm she must maintain irrespective of what happened within the circle.

  Changing Sky hummed a low repetitive chant, his body rocking in time to the beat. The mantra increased in volume, rising and falling, a monotonous hypnotic refrain, before fading to silence. He sat stone still.

  Tatya knew he now sought the company of his guides. The link between a shaman and his guide never ended, but these were not servants at the beck and call of whoever required them. These spiritual beings had other concerns, other duties to execute, but a shaman had the authority to request an audience. The guides decided if the appeal should be answered.

  Late afternoon sunbeams fell through the west facing windows,
taking on a rosy hue as the sun rode toward the horizon. Changing Sky remained motionless.

  Tatya continued to drum, grateful her vamp demon enhanced blood was useful for something beneficial.

  Changing Sky opened his eyes and raised his hand.

  Tatya slowed down and stopped drumming.

  He sat for a moment or two, sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “I spoke with Otakay. The signs are not good. Our friend is right. Something evil is astir, but whoever, or whatever it is, conceals itself well.” His voice was weak.

  “His earlier message said the enemy had returned. Did he mean Angelus?” She held her breath. Otakay, Changing Sky’s warrior guide, was strong, and his actions had enabled her to send the demon to Hell. If it was Angelus, Otakay would know.

  “Otakay says this enemy is masked and he cannot see beyond his disguise, but there is a familiarity. He will seek the aid of his fellow spirit guides. If he finds anything he will visit me in my dreams. Help me up.”

  Tatya put her arm under his elbow.

  “I need to rest.” He waved a hand toward the bedroom.

  Within minutes Tatya had assisted him to his bed, covered him with a blanket, and had the kettle boiling.

  Changing Sky possessed phenomenal stamina, an alert mind, and sharp intelligence; it was easy to forget he wasn’t a young man and she’d never seen him sick. Yes, he was getting on, though he still had many years ahead of him. Some hot sweet sage tea should do the trick.