Shadow Rising (The Shadow World Book 7)

by Dianne Sylvan

  “You will heal,” She told him, stroking his hair. “And you will become even stronger. As long as you avoid the mistakes you have already made…let your beloveds in, let them help you, keep reaching out instead of shutting down…it will be painful, and may take a long time, but it will be worth it in the end.”

  “I’m immortal,” he sighed. “Time, I have.”

  After a long moment, he lifted his head and met Her eyes. “Door number two, please,” he said, trying to sound certain but mostly just managing resigned. “Best not to meddle too much with a mind this brilliant.”

  She smiled and kissed his forehead. “Then sleep,” She told him. “When you wake it will be done.”

  He didn’t think he could possibly fall asleep, but he needn’t have worried; the night around them lapped at his mind softly, drawing him down into the dark—a darkness that was dreamless and quiet, warm, and loving.

  “Remember that you are loved,” She told him just as he drifted off. “And remember that I am proud of you, my storm…and remember that you are not alone.”

  *****

  Funny how winning a war felt so much like losing one.

  On the outside life went on and there was much to celebrate. With the threat of Morningstar gone—and the surviving Primes had reported that attacks on them and their territories had ceased that very night—the Shadow World could breathe again, and districts all over the world had reopened. The Elite had their hands full with all the rabble-rousing those first few weeks.

  Meanwhile word was trickling in that new converts had swamped the existing Cloisters of the Order of Elysium; free now to touch the lives of Her children again Persephone wasted no time letting them all know She was back.

  And perhaps most surprisingly, Kalea and the rest of the Enclave heard from the far-flung remaining Elven sanctuaries, which were all still safe and sound; offers came in for the refugee Elves of Avilon to leave Austin and relocate to the other sanctuaries…but with a handful of exceptions, the Elves stayed.

  The ones who departed were all of the older generation who’d been the most stubborn about the new settlement, which meant that New Avilon would be almost entirely populated with younger Elves who were ready for a new world no longer so disconnected from Earth.

  Where the Haven of the West had once stood there would be something new that was, at the same time, ancient: a partnership between the Order of Elysium and the Elves, with the vampires under Deven’s leadership standing guard over the forest.

  Nico finished building the Gate from Austin to California, then set to work on the others connecting the Havens, though now there wasn’t as much urgency to get them made. The Circle members didn’t need to hurry to each other’s homes; if they used the Gates now it was to spend time together in peace.

  Peace.

  Nico knew it wouldn’t last, and that the Shadow World had gotten off lightly, for now. They had averted the cataclysm that had ended the first Circle’s existence and had stopped a global war before it could spill over into the mortal world…for now. He knew, with both the certainty of a Consort and the fatalism that seemed to dog his steps nowadays, that it wasn’t over, that Agnilath would return…it was just a question of how long they could avoid it.

  The Morningstar Codex was safely locked away at Hunter Development while Novotny ran tests on it to be sure it couldn’t exert any sort of influence on humans or vampires around it. They all expected the book to have some kind of magical traps and protections on it…but so far it was turning out to be just a book, which made Nico worry even more. They knew nothing about this Codex—who had found it? Who had begun the rituals that brought Agnilath back? Was there another one out there that could fall into malevolent hands?

  Deven turned the Red Shadow’s operatives to a new purpose and had them investigating Morningstar’s origins; they were undercover and listening everywhere, trying to figure out where the story had begun. So far it had been frustratingly fruitless; no one could even say for sure what had happened to the remaining Morningstar soldiers. With the exception of the building where Agnilath and Agdilan had been living, which was combed for evidence and then razed, Morningstar had vanished.

  No, it wasn’t over. They had a respite…one hard-earned and desperately needed.

  Outside the Haven life returned to normal. Inside, well, life went on.

  Nothing was the same. For just a little while, the Tetrad had been happy in their unusual life together, even with the world going mad outside their doors. Now where there had been laughter there was silence; where there had been passionate lovemaking there were flashbacks and nightmares and, eventually, withdrawal. There were no blocks on the bond, but there was constant strain and worry.

  Nico found himself hesitating outside yet another door, unsure whether to knock or flee. This time, however, he knew there would be no dancing in the firelight, no tumbling into bed—if for no other reason than this wasn’t Deven’s suite, it was the Batcave.

  He steeled himself and knocked.

  “Come in.”

  The sight before him should have been comforting in its normalcy. The Prime of the Southern United States and assorted other territories was in his place at the desk, all the computer systems of the Haven and communications with the rest of the planet around him chirping and beeping happily. He wore his reading glasses and a t-shirt bearing the logo of someone named Doctor Strange; his Signet shone atop the shirt, its ornate setting a perfect contradiction and yet perfectly fitting. He was barefoot, legs crossed in the chair. It was so normal, on the surface, that it broke Nico’s heart.

  “Yes?” David asked without looking up.

  “If you’re busy,” Nico began, but David shook his head.

  “No more than usual. What do you need?”

  There was no getting used to the lifelessness in his voice. He was perfectly functional; he had gone back to governing his own and all the other vacant territories as before without missing a beat. He spent long nights walking around Austin reminding the Shadow World that its leader was still very much in power, and now with the additional legends surrounding the Tetrad—whatever had happened, they had defeated the Firstborn and saved vampire kind—he was as terrifying as he was reassuring to his people.

  The shield Persephone had built around him was flawless, made of the magical equivalent of steel; Nico had marveled at it from a distance, watching the energy of the Tetrad bond flowing in and out of it unobstructed though absolutely nothing else got in or out without David’s consent. He was a fortress, surrounded by high stone walls…and no one saw behind them.

  No one.

  “Nothing,” Nico said. “I’m just checking up on you. No one’s seen you for days, except Miranda.”

  “Then perhaps you should talk to her.”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  David pushed the mouse away from his hand, removed his glasses, and swiveled the chair toward him. He cleaned the lenses on his shirt and asked, “What do you want to talk about?”

  Nico stammered, suddenly caught off guard by the coldness in his stare. “I…I just want to know if you’re okay, I guess. If I can do anything to help you.”

  “Am I okay. Well, let’s see. I have to have a babysitter when I feed to make sure I don’t murder any more innocents. Deven’s taken over the New Moon killing for all of us and I’m mostly living off bagged blood because I’m too afraid of myself to hunt like an adult. Every time I try to have sex I end up screaming. I never know if my emotions are real or not. My wife thinks I need a therapist, but oddly enough qualified professionals for this sort of thing are thin on the ground. One of my lovers looks enough like my nightmares that I can barely look at him without having a panic attack. I’m shielded against anything like this happening again but the problem is it already happened. So to sum up I am barely holding it together and the only thing that keeps my mind from flying into pieces is work. What else do you need to know?”

  Nico looked
away. “I’m sorry.”

  “Fine. Anything else?”

  The Elf shook his head, ashamed that he had even asked; coming here had been selfish, a mistake. He was trying to reassure himself that David didn’t hate him or blame him, but it didn’t really matter—Nico blamed himself. He had driven David to surrender to Agnilath, and by the time he realized what he was doing it was too late.

  “I’ll go,” Nico said softly. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

  He backed toward the door and had almost escaped when he heard, “Nico.”

  Holding back tears, he stopped.

  There was a pause before David said, “You didn’t hesitate.”

  “To what?”

  David wasn’t looking at him, but sat head bowed, eyes closed. “You sent me there to save Kai. But when you walked into that room you didn’t hesitate for a second—you killed him knowing you were killing your brother too. Why?”

  “Why?” Helpless, not understanding the question, Nico said through his tears, “He was hurting you. Kai would never do…anything like that. Even if he had come back he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself. But that wasn’t even why, it…it’s awful, I know, but…at that moment, I didn’t care who it was. I would have used that stake even if Kai had been there himself, because…it’s you. You. Nothing else mattered right then. It didn’t matter if I could save Kai. I had to save you.”

  Silence. Neither could seem to look at the other.

  A breath later, David cleared his throat softly and took a deep breath. Nico could feel him struggling, shield or no shield. He reached up to the keyboard again, and brought up some kind of schematic on the big screen.

  Nico took that as his cue to leave, but to his amazement David said, “I could…since you’re here, I could use your help with something…if you have time.”

  Nico froze, hope and fear both racing for his heart, shoving each other out of the way to get there first. “Um…of course.”

  He moved closer, and David gestured, drawing one of the other chairs over behind the desk…a foot or so away, but nearby. Nico wiped his eyes and sat down, heart hammering.

  “This is something new I’m trying for the sensor grid, a way to make the entire system more organic—some AI adjustments that will help extend the grid over larger areas. But I’m…I’m running into trouble at a certain distance.”

  Nico nodded and fixed his attention on the screen, refusing to think about anything but what was in front of him…and beside him. “Let’s see what we can do, then.”

  *****

  “One thing I shall certainly miss about this place is central heat,” Kalea said as she finished changing Inaliel and set the baby on the floor. “Perhaps Nicolanai can come up with some magical alternative for us.”

  “Or you could get electricity,” Deven pointed out from his seat at the fire in what had been Nico’s room. “It would be easy to run it down to you.”

  Inaliel had, in the last week or so, apparently decided crawling was for puppies; according to Kalea one evening she had simply put her hands on a chair, pulled herself up, and was now waddling around the room quite freely. She was still clumsy and had trouble coordinating all her limbs, but that didn’t stop her from toddling after Pywacket, Jean Grey, and Astela with giggly abandon.

  Kalea chuckled, watching her drop onto her diapered bottom with a grunt and reach for the stuffed otter Deven had given her. “Somehow even with all we have adjusted to of late I doubt what remains of the Enclave would be able to go that far. Perhaps I can convince them to have it run into one of the common buildings so when we gather in the worst weather it can be in greater comfort. We shall see.”

  “Well if you can’t convince them, no one can.”

  Inaliel pushed herself back onto her feet and carried her otter over to Deven; she gestured “up!” but before he could help her he had to help the otter. Deven smiled and set the toy on the arm of the chair, then lifted the baby onto his lap. She sat facing him, grinning and pointing at his ears.

  “I know, I know,” he said. “Better?”

  A decisive nod.

  Kalea had gone to the bathroom to wash her hands, but when she came back she said, “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry about Aila. Not only that she is gone, but that you had to kill her, and that she never had a chance to know you.”

  Deven had steadfastly avoided thinking about that too much, but now, he smiled a little and kept his eyes on the baby. “Thank you, Kalea. I still wonder if…”

  “If your Queen might have been able to save her? Perhaps. But would she have been saved? I sincerely doubt she would have had the strength to live as a vampire. And as you said, your own Goddess offered to strip the memory of a few moments of Agnilath from your Prime. Imagine being forced to live with weeks of it…knowing everything that had been done in your body while you were helpless to stop it.”

  Deven knew who she was really thinking about…those tears would never have been for Elendala. “I’m sorry about Kai.”

  Kalea nodded and wiped her eyes. “As am I. But I am glad, at least, that he is no longer prisoner, and that he is free…and perhaps we will meet again, in time.”

  Inaliel turned and wriggled into the crook of Deven’s arm, wrapping herself around him and clinging like the world’s most adorable barnacle, sighing happily as she patted his shoulder. But after a minute, something seemed to occur to her; she sat back, looking at him keenly.

  “Aila,” she said carefully.

  Deven’s heart skipped—did she know? “That’s your mother’s name,” he said quietly to her.

  She nodded. “Gone?”

  He looked helplessly at Kalea, who nodded. “Yes, Inaliel…we talked about it, remember? She was badly hurt, and could not be healed. She died.”

  Another nod. “Better now?”

  “Yes,” Deven said. “The Goddess is holding her now, safe, and healed.”

  “Goddess!” Inaliel’s eyes lit up. “Bird lady!”

  Deven looked at Kalea again. “Bird lady?”

  This time, though, Kalea looked bewildered. “I have no idea.”

  “Does Theia appear with birds as well?” Deven asked. “I don’t remember.”

  “No,” Kalea said. “At least not with any one kind. What bird lady are you talking about, Inaliel?”

  The child frowned as if they were both idiots and said, “Black birds.”

  Deven’s eyebrows shot up, and he guessed Kalea’s did too. “Wait…are you talking about a Lady in a black dress, with red hair? At night?”

  She nodded. “Pretty bird lady.”

  “And when did you see this Lady?” Kalea inquired.

  Inaliel frowned again. “Before,” she finally said. “Before now. Hurt,” she said, trying to explain something she didn’t have the words for. “Lady held me. Safe.”

  Understanding—as well as wonder—dawned on Kalea’s face. “She may be talking about a past life,” she said. “Sometimes the young remember moments of old incarnations—they usually forget as they grow.”

  Deven had way more questions than he knew the baby could answer—why would an Elf have gone to Persephone after death? Did Elven souls incarnate across racial boundaries? Could Inaliel have been a Witch once, or a vampire? Was that why she’d been born here and now, into this particular family?

  But Inaliel had already lost interest in the conversation, and got down from Deven’s lap to chase after Jean Grey, who despite her standoffish and irritable temperament seemed to find her way to wherever Inaliel was with surprising regularity.

  “You know, that would make sense,” Kalea mused, sitting down in the other chair and offering Deven a glass of wine. “When she was born, Aila—Elendala—wanted to give her a human name, one she’d heard in a dream while she was pregnant. But she was too afraid of what others would think, so she asked your grandmother for help coming up with something similar.”

  Deven watched the child pick up the cat around
the middle and half-drag her to a pillow; Jean Grey went limp, looking resigned, but Deven could hear her purring across the room. “Inaliel would translate as…one who knows, or maybe one who believes?”

  “More or less. The name was something we don’t really have—a belief in something unknowable, without any empirical evidence. She said it’s how humans relate to their gods, most of the time, because they cannot see and touch them as can we. Their Sight is so weak and their ability to connect to the Divine so faint that they have to rely on this blind form of trust that often leads them to despair. It sounded terrible to your grandmother, so they settled on something more in keeping with our own tradition.”

  “Wait…” Deven sat forward, gripping his wine glass with suddenly cold fingers. “What was the name she wanted to use?”

  He heard the baby laugh merrily and looked over in time to see her roll onto her back, the cat licking her forehead fiercely. Inaliel turned her head and met Deven’s stare, and to his absolute astonishment, she winked.

  “I think it was—”

  “Faith,” Deven said softly. “It was Faith.”

  *****

  No matter the weather, the season, or the situation, there was one place she knew she could always find her husband in Austin…much to her dismay.

  The world was coated in crystalline ice, everything gleaming like glass in the street lights. The storms that had brought in all the sleet and frozen the whole city into silence had calmed, leaving the avenues empty, businesses closed, even on a Friday night.

  She would never have asked Harlan to drive in such dangerous conditions—the roads to and from the Haven were especially icy this week. The whole Haven, or most of it, was living on their backup blood supply and going a bit stir-crazy unable to leave the house. Elite patrols had been reduced to skeleton crews, and they were staying in town during the day rather than trying to travel to and from the city.

  Miranda pulled her coat tight around her and walked out onto the roof of the Winchester building, treading carefully and analyzing each step to avoid slipping. She had opted not to Mist directly to the ledge, lest she appear on an icy patch and tumble off into the freezing air to break her neck on the sidewalk below.