The Kala Trilogy: An Urban Fantasy Box Set

by Teagan Kearney

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Desperate Measures

  On the way down, the tunnels had been empty, but at each junction, turn and twist on the return, groups of armed weres, men, and women with grim expressions, stood guard. Precautionary measures, no doubt in place in case of an attempted breakout.

  Tatya registered their presence, but she wasn’t planning an escape, well, not a physical one. What she wanted was a way to free Vanse of Angelus’s presence. Somehow, and she didn’t understand how it was possible, her link with the demon had been destroyed when they’d returned him to Hell, but Vanse’s connection with his maker had remained intact. Angelus had subsequently used the bond not just to return to this plane, but to take possession of Vanse’s body, and murder innocents. He’d also concealed his presence. Remembering certain aspects of Vanse’s recent behavior, the dreams, his fever, pushing her away when it seemed they could at last be together, maybe he’d had more than an inkling trouble was coming and tried to protect her

  By the time they’d retraced their steps, the bedroom was filled with half a dozen weres. Outside, there was no sign of the pack and the night was quiet.

  As Forked Lightning walked her to her truck, the nucleus of a plan formed. “Can I look at the clip again?” The question came out strangled; her power was in flux, rising and falling in tune with her emotions, tingling through her body as she tried to figure out how to save Vanse.

  “It won’t do any good.”

  He’d no sympathy for Vanse, but he might have a little for her. Anyway, it was worth a try. “Let me show you something.”

  Forked Lightning shrugged. “If it makes you feel better.” He got out his phone and clicked on the clip. “What?”

  “Here,” she fast forwarded till she found what she wanted, paused the video and showed it to Forked Lightning. “What color are his eyes?”

  “Bright blue.”

  “And his hair?”

  He peered closer. “Difficult to tell, but definitely reddish.” He looked at her. “Tatya, we’ve discussed this. He’s a shapeshifter, and he didn’t tell you. I’m certain there’s a lot you don’t know about him.”

  “You didn’t know Angelus, did you? But that,” she pointed at the face staring out at them in malicious triumph, “isn’t Vanse. That’s Angelus.” She continued talking, paying no attention to the downturn of Forked Lightning’s mouth and his cold expression. “Remember Alice’s description of her attacker?” And she kept talking, blurting out her explanation of how the demon had returned. But his clenched his jaw told her he was losing patience. “I want to ask you one thing, in memory of Changing Sky.”

  “Go ahead. Nothing you say changes anything. It’s too late to make a difference to what’ll happen to him tomorrow.”

  “Listen!” Her anger rose at his refusal to consider anything other than his views on the matter. “Vanse didn’t kill anyone. That was Angelus, and if you kill Vanse, all you’ll do is leave us weaker, and more defenseless against that thing.” She indicated the phone. “Vanse isn’t a shapeshifter. He’s possessed by a demon, and you know the laws of demonic possession. At the moment of death. if the demon is powerful enough, he can jump from the current host to another body. Unless you have someone qualified to stop him—and I know you haven’t. You really don’t want to give that opportunity to this creature. Would you want to find yourself a prisoner in your own body, with him running your pack?” She could see her arguments taking effect. ‘I’ll seek advice from Otakay as soon as I get home. Please, I’m begging you, consult with Meoquanee and Qaletaqa because they’ll confirm what I’m telling you. Changing Sky left you in their care for a reason.”

  A look of unease flickered across his face, as the remark hit a tender spot.

  She left with Forked Lightning’s promise to seek advice from his spirit guides and, whatever the result, he would contact her later. She’d driven on automatic, hardly seeing the road in front of her, and shoving her reactions into the black box at the bottom of her subconscious. Once inside the safety of the shop, she collapsed, her emotions swelling, bubbling chaotically to the surface; a physical pain in the place where her heart beat. Overwhelmed by fear of never seeing Vanse or speaking to him again, never feeling his touch through the link or having his arms around her and kissing her, great heaving sobs racked her body. The endless possibilities to explore with someone you loved would never be hers. How would she survive this?

  Being this near to him drains hope, Tatya. It’s part of his potency, Changing Sky’s voice echoed in her head. She breathed in, gathering the heavy darkness and despair in her soul, and breathed out, pushing the almost unbearable weight down into the heart of the earth where the Mother’s blaze would raze it out of existence. She took another breath, drawing in hope, gaining strength as the image of Otakay ghosted across her mind and she remembered she wasn’t alone. The Bandrui chant was quiet, but its background resonance, beating low and steady, filled her with the slow burn of determination.

  Almost midnight and for the third time that day, Tatya sat in the sacred circle. Falling into trance with the scent of sage and cedar in the room was easy. Ignoring the picture of Vanse, with his battered, bleeding body suspended unconscious and shot full of vervain, wasn’t that simple. Each time she felt herself almost slipping out of her body, memories of him in this and past lives intruded. But she refused to give up, Changing Sky had taught her better. At last focusing on the picture of her mentor, as he sat next to her outside his cabin, overlooking the reservation, she calmed and flew free.

  At once, Otakay appeared. The Sioux warrior was magnificent with his full-feathered war bonnet, breechcloth, leggings, the immense bow in his hand and a quiver on his back. The quiver was full of arrows. That had been important to Changing Sky.

  The spirit guide gave a slight bow, acknowledging her call. “Yes, the evil spirit we defeated has returned, but without his minions. That makes this battle both easier and more difficult.”

  “What can I do to rescue Vanse?” It was the only question she had, the only one she needed the answer to.

  “To eject the interloper is normally straightforward, and unfortunately often results in the death of the host. to accomplish the task without eliminating the host is difficult. You will need much faith and trust.”

  Tatya thought she saw a flash of sympathy cross his face—if such a fierce countenance could show sympathy. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” She swallowed.

  “We can, without doubt, banish the fiend once more to his domain. But for the rest, you understand there can be no guarantee?”

  She nodded. What choice did she have? If she didn’t do something, the werewolves would tear him to shreds, offering Angelus the opportunity to possess any one of them. At least with Otakay’s help, Vanse had a chance of survival. “I understand.”

  “Come then, I will show you what must be done.” Otakay’s swept both arms up, and silver mist poured from his fingers. He reached for her hand as the hazy vapor enveloped her.

  She came to full consciousness in the blink of an eye. The last thing she recalled was the conversation with Otakay, a sense of comfort, and then nothing. Now she lay curled up on her side, blinded by the glare of the pregnant moon. She stretched and an object clattered to the floor. Her eyes widened, memories rising as she saw the white oaken blade, with its silver runes glowing in the moonlight.

  The sound of her phone ringing broke the silence.

  Picking up the blade, she hurried downstairs.

  “Tatya? I know it’s late, but I’ve been ringing for half an hour. Where’ve you been?”

  She ignored the impatience in Forked Lightning’s voice and checked the time. One o’clock in the morning. “I was speaking with Otakay. Any news?” She chewed her lip, turned the knife over in her hand. The runes shifted, flickering with power.

  “I did as you suggested and consulted with Meoquannee and Qaletaqa,” he paused.

  “And? Spit it out.”

  “It doesn’t look good for Vans
e.”

  “I spoke with Otakay, and I need a favor.”

  “The spirits said I was to listen to you.”

  “They did?” That was hopeful. But Forked Lightning was only one werewolf, even if he was the leader it meant nothing if the rest of the pack refused to listen. “Otakay gave me something.”

  “What kind of something?”

  “A weapon.” She heard his breathing quicken, then silence.

  “What’s your plan?”

  Tatya talked, at first quiet and slow, her words spilling out faster as she became more enthusiastic at the possibility of success. “Let me speak to your pack. I’ll explain the situation to them. I accept there’s a risk they won’t listen to me, but at least let me try,” she begged, not caring how desperate she sounded. Vanse’s life was literally at stake.

  He answered immediately. “Because of my debt to Changing Sky, I owe you. As the leader, I’m entitled to a hearing, and you can try to persuade them. But if they don’t agree to your offer, you’ll have to accept their decision and they’ll do what they want with the vampire.”

  She throttled back the tears threatening to overwhelm her again. “Okay.”

  “Come tomorrow. Eleven pm, an hour before midnight, and you’ll have your chance.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Possibilities

  For the rest of the night time crawled, one interminable crippling minute dragging after the next. Tatya tried to sleep, tried to banish the recent images of the man she loved, the man she wanted to save, but after an hour of restless squirming, and with sleep no closer, she threw back the covers and gave up. Right now, she didn’t know if she appreciated her hybrid body’s need for less sleep or if she resented it as her mind had already spent too much time trudging through the same endless familiar maze looking for a solution.

  One hot shower and two strong coffees later she cleaned the bedroom. She stroked the silky material of the dress she’d worn only the other night before she hung it up in the wardrobe, her mind refusing to think about her chances of wearing it again.

  After the bathroom, she progressed through the rest of the house, till even the smallest spot of dust had enough sense to stay out of sight. She didn’t bother trying to finish the bookkeeping; she knew her brain wouldn’t make any sense of it right now. Just before dawn she flopped onto the couch and dozed off into an uneasy red-hued nightmare where she chased a red-gold haired demon across an endless plain, never getting any closer no matter how fast she ran.

  Loud knocking on the back door woke her. A man, so similar in height and shape to Vanse that for a minute she thought it was him before she realized that wasn’t possible, stood waiting. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and pushed her hair behind her ears. Her hairband was missing, and she hoped whoever it was wouldn’t care that she looked such a mess.

  “Fabio.” Her jaw dropped. How could she have forgotten? Vanse had made her Queen of the Vampires in his absence. At least till he returned. Hopefully, that would be sooner rather than later. If they got through tonight, she’d make sure he did something about it. As in revoke the whole ‘my consort replaces me’ bit. “Come in.”

  “Do you have any news?” Fabio stood uncertainly in the middle of the kitchen.

  She pushed aside the image of Vanse, chained, cut and bleeding, in a dark damp cave below ground. The vervain ought to leave his system soon and he’d heal and get a little of his strength back. She had to stop thinking of him as a victim. It wasn’t helping. “Yes and no. Can I get you a coffee while I fill you in?” She moved toward the kitchen, being in dire need of one herself.

  “No, I’m fine. I just...,” he paused, “had breakfast.”

  “That’s,” she stopped. What was the appropriate response to a vampire who’d just informed you he’d had his morning pint or two from the blood bank? Better than from someone’s neck she supposed. How long had the werewolves had Vanse? Two days, and this was the third. She knew he could last without feeding for several days, but he would weaken, increasing Angelus’s chances of gaining the upper hand. “Fine, but have a seat. I need one.”

  Despite his immaculate appearance, hair glossed and smoothed into a ponytail, designer suit, and leather shoes with a mirror shine, Fabio perched on the edge of the couch, looking like a small boy playing at being grown-up instead of the centuries old vampire he was.

  Tatya kept an eye on him as she carried out the familiar actions of brewing coffee. She trusted him, but he wasn’t Vanse. “How’s everybody doing?”

  “Most are managing. A number are still nervous, but thanks to you, they are carrying on with their normal activities.”

  She hoped he meant normal business activities, but she wasn’t going to ask. “No. It’s thanks to you, you’re the one giving the orders.”

  “Yes, but in your name. If you hadn’t given that instruction, no one would pay any attention to me.”

  Tatya poured herself a large mug of coffee, adding three sugars and a large dollop of cream, not her usual addition, but she could do with a boost at the moment. She leaned against the counter, sipping the hot brew, wondering how much to tell Fabio. Orleton didn’t need a vampire werewolf vendetta on its doorstep— the logical result of telling him the truth. Fabio would view Angelus having possession of Vanse’s body as irrelevant, and pay no heed to whether he was guilty of not of the crimes of which he was accused. The body of his maker was in danger, irrespective of who controlled that body; exorcising Angelus would be a secondary concern.

  “Yes, I’ve found him. No, I can’t tell you anymore, except by this time tomorrow, everything will be sorted.” One way or another. But she couldn’t, and didn’t want to think what tomorrow might bring. The bubble of emotion swelled, and she hitched a breath as that place in her throat where the demon had once grasped her, throbbed for a second with raw heat. The vervain had worn off and Angelus was awake.

  “Are you all right?” Fabio moved with vampire speed and stood by her shoulder. He smelled of expensive perfume.

  She waved him off. “Heartburn. I’m okay. Look I’ve got a lot of things to do today. Give me your phone number, and I’ll let you know if anything develops. Keep the others busy.”

  “Yes, Milady.” Fabio bowed low.

  “One more thing. No bowing. Okay?”

  After he left, Tatya stood motionless in the kitchen, and let the tears roll down her cheeks. She opened the bond to Vanse. A faint response. The connection was weak. She knew he was trying to keep her away, attempting to protect her, but not being able to sense him hurt worse than the knife which he’d slid into her heart numerous times. “I’m coming,” she whispered. “Hold on, I’ll be there.” Just as she closed the link, a brief flare, and for one second, a blaze of ecstasy flowed from one to the other. Then he shut her out, but not before she caught the searing stab of his pain at the separation.

  She opened the shop thinking she might as well do something to pass the time, but the bright sunny spring day with children passing on their way to school, mothers shopping, fathers off to work, tore at her. She’d experienced this awareness of the world turning, continuing business as normal, and oblivious to her loss, when she’d buried Aunt Lil and Sean, but this thing with Vanse was different. He was her other half, had loved her for lifetimes, yet it wasn’t until this lifetime, she’d rediscovered her love for him. Currently, it looked as if she’d spend the rest of this life alone.

  At lunchtime, she went to the hardware store across the street and bought a plain black leather belt and matching sheath for the oaken blade. During the afternoon, she smiled and served customers on automatic as the sun edged agonizingly across the sky as slowly as the moon had the previous night. Closing early, she spent an hour carving runes into the sheath and warding it. She tried to eat, a few biscuits, and an apple, but she was wound too tight and after nibbling a few bites gave up. Pushing away memories and concentrating on the present moment was as much as she could manage. She rolled the question of informing Corwin around in her mind but decid
ed against it. At least one person would emerge unscathed from this nightmare. Bands of peach and crimson lit up the western sky. A few more hours till she could leave.

  Night fell, and the full moon turned the world outside to silver and gray. With her shields raised, Tatya sat once more inside the circle of crystals and flickering candlelight, the Bandrui chant a soothing backdrop as she looked inward and breathed deep. Pulling on her power, she soared out of her body and called Otakay. A warm wind blew scents of cedar wood, and he appeared before her.

  “Yes, little sister. I am ready. But first, come with me.” He took her hand, and she followed him along a deer trail through the lush greenery of a summer forest. Birds called, insects rustled beneath the soil, and creatures moved seeking food. If she had time to stop and listen, she knew she would hear the earth’s balmy breath moving soft and gentle over the land. Another time, but not today.

  They entered a grassy clearing, and Otakay moved to the side. Opposite her and facing away stood a figure. A familiar beloved figure she would recognize anywhere. Changing Sky.

  He turned, smiled at her, and opened his arms. “My little sister.”

  She ran toward him; his strength enveloped her as they hugged.

  “I have not got long. The Spirits Above answered my prayers and granted me this short time with you.” He wiped her face. “No tears, Tatya. Clear your mind of everything else but the task ahead. This is no different from the last time. The connection between Vanse and his maker was stronger than we thought possible and enabled him to re-enter the earthly plane. But you must have faith that your, and his, sacrifice will not be in vain, even though he may have to pay the ultimate price. Otakay is powerful in his own right, and through him, I am always with you. Like the Bandrui, we will not leave you, but you have to put aside your emotions, your own concerns as you did before. For the results of failing cannot be contemplated.” He held her at arm’s length, gestured with his hand, and a calmness descended. “The Spirits Above have blessed you, Tatya, go with love.” He pulled her close.