by Nunn, PL
She nodded thoughtfully. “I saw what he left.”
He took a breath and stepped forward, wanting to touch her. Just to brush his fingers across her skin. She looked at him warily and he let the notion fall away. “I never could have broken their hold if not for you. I kept seeing you there, at the keep, and nothing Leanan’s spell could do, could keep me from remembering. Just little things at first, but the more I saw you, heard your voice, the more came back. God, Vicky, I love you, a sidhe spell couldn’t change that.”
“I wanted to kill you when I first came to his keep,” she whispered, turning her head. “I wanted you and her dead so bad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It hurt, Alex.” Her eyes came up to his and the glint of tears gathered at the corners. “But do you want to know something? Even then, before I went berserk, I had changed. I’m not the same woman.”
He stared at her, not comprehending.
When she moved towards him, he almost started. She caught the movement and smiled. “See, I make men jump now. I never did that at home.”
“I always jumped for you,” he said, still not understanding. She put her hand on his face. Her fingers were warm.
“Alex, I was so weak then. The world was such a horrifying, overwhelming place. You were my anchor to safety, to reality. I built my life around you. I depended on you for everything, even when you were off to war. Do you know what a void, what a trance I lived in between your letters?”
“You were young.”
“No, I was weak, and I had been brought up to be weak. I can’t do that anymore. I can’t be weak. I’ve been to war, Alex and there is a bit of bloodlust in me that cannot be denied. I cannot depend on you anymore.”
He stared at her and felt nausea rising. “What are you telling me?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
“I’m telling you that I am not the same Victoria you knew. I’m telling you that girl no longer exists and the new one doesn’t know how she feels anymore. You and I cannot go back to the way we were.”
Anger rose. He swore under his breath and stepped back from her hand.
“You still blame me. God damn it, Vicky, it was not my fault. I can’t change what happened.”
“I know. I believe you.”
“Then what?” he demanded the second before the realization hit. “It’s him! It’s him, isn’t it? It’s Dusk that has you all mixed up. You think I’m the only one who could be bewitched?”
Her smile turned sad. “Dusk didn’t bewitch me, Alex.” She blew out a breath of frustration and turned her back to him.
“Oh, I am mixed up, but it’s not his fault, or yours. You want the truth? I’ll tell you the truth. After that first moment, that first shock when I saw you and Leanan, I never wished you ill. I can’t turn my love on and off. I was bruised. You hurt me so much that all I wanted to do was crawl under a rock and hide from the world. I kept telling myself that was why I suddenly looked at Dusk and sought comfort from him. God knows he never offered it. It made sense. You hurt me and I run to someone else. Fair’s fair, after all. But that’s just a convenient ruse to soothe my own feelings of loyalty. Even when I was trying to get to you so desperately I was drawn to him.”
“Maybe it was purely physical. Maybe he was just so damned beautiful I couldn’t help myself, but I like to think I have more control than that. Maybe it’s something else. All I know is he never instigated it, never gave me one bit of encouragement and there was still something…”
“I don’t want to hear this.” He wanted to flee into the cold rain. He wanted to run away and pretend she had never admitted to wanting another man more than she wanted him. He tried to summon anger, but he had used that emotion up long ago. All he could feel now was dread.
“Alex,” she cried. “It’s not the same. It’s different from what I feel for you. And it never diminished that feeling.”
“Victoria, what do you want of me?” he asked, voice dead. If he allowed emotion into the debate now it would be the end of self control.
“I don’t know. I just want you to give me space and time to think.”
“While you cozy up to him? Take all the time you want.”
“Damn it no!” her voice rose in pitch.
There were tears on her cheeks now. “He was the one that told me. He was the one that made me give you the chance. Do you know why? He said he wanted me to be happy. He said you didn’t deserve my hate. Tell me why he would do that, Alex? What benefit to him?”
The cold pit of void that had been building inside him gave way to shock.
Dusk had come to her and pleaded his case? No wonder she was confused, if one lover was giving that much courtesy to another. What was he up to? He brought his hand up to the chain at this neck and the dark orb at its end. Did he fear for his soul? Or just hold that much loyalty to the one who possessed it?
No. Azeral had had it for centuries and been shown no such loyalty where Victoria was concerned. He looked at Victoria, in the fey light of her making and knew was right in at least one respect. She was a different woman. No soft, dependent creature this. If the jealousy and the sense of impending loss had not been so prominent, he might have felt a great deal of awe at the self changes she had made.
Very carefully, he said. “I brought him here because at the time, in my irrationality, I thought it would win merit with you. Foolish me, because I find that now that both of us are here, you know you want him, but you’re not certain about me anymore.”
“That’s not true, Alex,” she pleaded.
He glared at her. “You just said as much. All right. That’s fine. I might as well give you the whole thing.” He fumbled for the pendant, pulled it over his head and held it out to her. She stared at it in incomprehension, then past it to him.
His eyes grew hard. She swallowed and reached out to take it. He snatched it away. Gripped the warm orb in his fist with crushing pressure. Victoria’s confusion was plain.
He shook his head savagely. “No. For you, but I have to give it to someone else.”
“Alex – “
“No. Do your thinking. I can’t be here anymore.” He spun on his heel and left her. Was immensely grateful for the cool splatter of rain on his skin. He realized that he had nowhere to go in this dubious haven filled with strangers, who at the very least regarded him with mild suspicion.
~~~
Aloe’s first suggestion on where he might stay, suited Alex fine. With a little initiative mental prying he located the large, leaky building the Seelies had chosen to house their horses. It was low ceilinged and dark, filled with the odor of wet fur and manure. The animals snorted at his entrance, rolling their eyes at the fey light he summoned, watching him as he found a relatively dry corner and settled into it.
He had come here with such hopes.
He had known Victoria would listen to reason. Had known she would understand once he had the chance to explain things to her. He had known she had slept with Dusk, but had managed to file that away as meaningless. Inconsequential. Something she had done in the heat of a moment, or even magically been coerced into. God knew he had. He had been fully prepared to forgive her the transgression.
He had not expected the new Victoria. He had not expected her to question her feelings for him. She wanted the assassin. Damn his pretty face anyway, for going to her and playing martyr. Alex could play martyr also. There was damn little else he could do with the soul, since holding Dusk as a possession would hardly score points with Victoria. Let the assassin have his own black soul back.
Alex wanted it in his keeping no longer.
He pulled out the pendant, let the chain pool in his palm and centered his will on the orb. He could sense Dusk’s presence. There was a great deal of unhappiness. Much uncertainty. Alex sniffed and sent out the call. He centered his will on drawing the owner of the soul housed in the orb to him. He closed the whole of it in his palm, laid his head against the moss-covered stone wall and waited.
The horses
never sensed the presence, but Alex knew without opening his eyes. He remained in his relaxed position, looking at the back of his lids and let the silence draw out. Finally when his back began to complain of the stone seat, he asked, “Why did you do it?”
Silence was his answer. He opened his eyes and stared into the shadows and said, grimly, quietly, “Don’t play games with me, assassin. Why speak for me to her? You think she’ll swoon over your nobility?”
Dusk stepped into the circle of his light. He looked tired and used. “She had to know.”
“Did I ask? What do you think you’re going to gain from it?”
Dusk shook his head, pushed back his hair with weary exasperation.
“I want nothing of her that she does not give freely. I do not wish you harm.”
Alex swore and surged to his feet.
“You did me harm when you went after her. You knew she was mine.”
Dusk stared at him in something akin to bafflement. “You speak as if she is an object to be coveted.”
Alex took a breath. “No. She’s not. But you are,” he opened his hand and let the pendant dangle. Dusk stared. At it, then to him. He inclined his head slightly, not quite respectfully. He had learned to rebel against the yoke. How long would it have been, if Alex or Azeral had continued to hold that imprisoned soul over him, before soul death meant nothing and the assassin’s nature overcame all else?
“Not too long ago, every sidhe lord in the land would have fought over this. I can still think of some who would probably like to have it, but I don’t want it anymore.
You helped clear my name with Vicky, so I’m going to do you one better and give you your soul back.”
Dusk’s mouth actually dropped. His eyes got very large and his color faded two shades at least. Alex was somewhat pleased with the utter shock on the assassin’s face. He was not prepared for the venom in Dusk’s voice when he spoke.
“If you’re trying to sanctify yourself with my liberation, then do not! I refuse your gesture. Find some other way to soothe your soul.”
“I’m not trying to ‘sanctify’ anything. This is payback. I never want to be in your debt.”
“I did nothing to warrant such a debt.”
“You set Vicky straight. She was damned and determined not to hear it from me.”
Jaw set stubbornly, Dusk shook his head. “No! I want it not.”
Alex laughed in amazement. Of all the reactions he might have imagined, outright refusal had not been among them. There was no reason for it. Absolutely none.
“Have you lost your mind? You are the most backwards son of a bitch I’ve ever met. You don’t know what the hell you want. It’s your soul, man.”
The assassin backed a step away, and there was fear in his eyes. Fear of his own soul? Fear, perhaps of something he had never had, and never known the feel of.
Superstitious dread of what having a soul might suddenly imply to a creature whose only purpose in life had been to kill.
“Oh, Dusk,” he purred, suddenly feeling very certain of the terror in the other’s eyes. “Do you think the weight of all those deaths is going to crash down upon you with the advent of a soul? Do you think you’re going to develop a conscience. Do you think the guilt will suddenly be unbearable because of a little thing like a soul?” He swung the chain between his fingers like a hypnotist dangling a watch. Dusk stared at it with as much fascination. The fear in him was all consuming. Azeral’s punishment not one tenth of the horror as the possibility of gaining his soul brought. Alex felt it though the soul bond. It was so strong it made his hand shake.
“Maybe it will,” he contemplated, twirling the chain between his fingers.
“Because I think you made a pretty poor assassin to begin with. You’ve got too much of a conscience already, even without a soul. Victoria would make a better one. She’s good at tearing out hearts without even the benefit of practice. But that’s all hypothesis. The only way to find out is to try.”
Dusk was mouthing denials even as Alex stared at the dangling orb and concentrated on the rune symbol that Azeral had made his. He delved deep into the part of that poisoning orb and found what linkage it had to his own soul and erased the bond. The runes faded from the dark orb and left a smooth, polished surface that waited for another’s rune mark to be encrypted. Dusk cried out to him, and Alex only smiled, and swung the incomplete soul orb by its chain, smashing it into a moss-covered stone pillar. It shattered with a tinkling of glass, as if it had been fragile and delicate, instead of the heavy solid orb he had assumed it to be.
Dusk screamed at the impact, clutched his hands to his head as if in horrible pain. One knee buckled and he went down, the cry still on his lips. Alex stared, fascinated by the reaction. The assassin’s shoulders quaked, breathless sobs escaped his bowed head. Then another scream, this one holding more hints of outrage than agony, and he leapt up, quicker than Alex could follow and slammed the hard edge of an elbow into Alex’s jaw. He stumbled backwards into the same pillar he had destroyed the orb against, vision spotting. He tried to lift a hand in defense but Dusk did not give him the chance. Rigid fingers drove into his solar plexus and he lost all breath, went down to hands and knees in the water logged cut grasses. Another blow to the side of his head and he rolled to his side, sight obscured by pain and dizziness. He closed his eyes and thought desperately, frantically that Dusk was going to kill him.
And there was not anything magic, or his measly, navy-taught knowledge of self defense could do about it. He found the breath to gasp. “Are you sure you – want – to do this? Now that – you have a – soul?”
Silence. He fought against nausea and squinted his eyes. Caught a wavering vision of Dusk squatting a few feet from him. The assassin glared at him.
“Demon spawn,” Dusk accused him of with a hiss, then staggered to his feet with none of his usual grace, as if he were the one who had taken the beating. He stared down at the pieces of the broken orb, then kicked them savagely, scattering them across the floor. Alex half smiled in his misery, closed his eyes for a brief moment before the expected wash of darkness swept over him.
~~~
Okar was pacing the length of the room, skirting around fallen beams, avoiding puddles of dripping water. He had the look of something caged. It was easy to feel the frustrated surges of his magic as it fought against inactivity.
Neira’sha was starting to cast worried looks in his direction.
Victoria, who had gone to Neira’sha when she could not find Aloe to confide her troubles to, could well understand Okar’s unease. Ashara had been gone too long. He was upset, he was scared and he was chafing at the bit to be after his mate.
Neira’sha was holding the rein connected to that bit as firm as she could without resorting to magical restraint that he was sure to contend against.
“These things take time, my dear,” she soothed.
He cast her a glower, knowing very well her calm words were only to balm his nerves. “She is long overdue, Lady.
Darkness has fallen and she vowed to be back with the decent of the sun. He has reneged on his bargain. I told you he was not to be trusted.”
“He holds her in greatest respect. He will not harm her,” Neira’sha assured him.
“Ha!” Okar whirled on her and threw out his hands. “So much respect that he drives her from her home. Speak not to me as if I were a child or a fool.”
The elder sighed, as if indeed she were dealing with such and cast a look that pleaded for understanding to Victoria, who sat quietly by the brazier.
“He has greater reason than most to despise him,” she said quietly to Victoria. “Greater reason to distrust his motives.”
Okar turned his gaze towards the human also. His tilted, blue eyes sparkled. “Only because I know first hand his treachery. His capacity for foul deeds.”
“What did he do to you to make you hate him so?” she asked, realizing that there was seething hatred for Azeral lurking behind Okar’s stare.
“God,” she breathed. “No wonder he tried so hard to get at you when we were on the run.”
He sat down abruptly on the fallen stone pillar. “There was a time, I think, when he put more effort into hurting me than wanting her.”
“That was long ago,” Neira’sha reminded him softly. “He was younger then too. And driven by something stronger than love.”
He looked up at her balefully. “Was he?”
Victoria stared, aghast at this talk of love and souls as if the two were so distantly separate. And something inside her wrenched. She gasped, quietly beyond the notice of the sidhe. She put fingers to her temples as a sensation that was beyond physical assaulted her. It was not entirely unpleasant, but it was shocking and intrusive. Something foreign that tickled the boundaries of her self even behind the thick protective bastion of her shields. It was a trauma of sorts that was not quite her own.
Vaguely she heard Neira’sha and Okar speaking. She shook her head of the strange sensation and tried to catch up with the conversation. Okar was still sitting, calmer now, although his frown had deepened. Neira’sha was gesturing towards the ceiling.
“If only for an hour,” she was saying, “there were clear skies, weather wards could be encrypted into the rune stones and draw from their power.”
“Dare you meddle with the spellwork of the ancients?” he inquired warily.
“I think I am better qualified than any other,” she snapped, fatigue making her short. She sighed after retort, and gave him and Victoria an apologetic smile.
“Those runes have known me, my dear, than longer than either of you can guess.
They will allow my small addition. The weather was never something the ancients had need to defend against. This valley was ever protected naturally from the harshness of the Four’s whims.”
