by Gaja J. Kos
“You have an affinity for the living side of death, Rosalind,” he breathed softly, drinking in the sight of her.
The neck wound had healed, but a pink scar stretched across the flesh, the brightness of it clashing with the brown fur. The body had still healed faster than any human corpse he had ever entered, but not as fast as a werewolf's should. A displeasing side effect of highjacking someone's corporeal form; many of its attributes were bound to the soul as well as the flesh, and would diminish without the presence of both.
The toxin worked, at least to some extent, containing the werewolf abilities, even if they weren't exhibiting their full potential. However, the poisonous green liquid hadn't given the vetalas access to all they had desired.
They couldn't shift from wolf to human form and vice versa; it had been expected for those who had chosen the White weres to operate a fully animal shape, but it had been an aggravating setback for those who had ended up in the regular bodies like he had. At least his were had changed into wolf form in the moments before his death. If they had known the toxin would not grant them the gift of shape-shifting, they would have fought harder for those positions inside the Whites.
Nonetheless, he had been wise enough to choose a true warrior's body before the rest of the demonic scavengers sniffed it out, slipping into it like a hand into a finely made leather glove, where all he had to do was wait for it to truly become his, to master even the minutest movements, controlling them without effort.
The two-legged wolf creature sneered at the fighters carefully lined down the length of the spacious cavern. It had been similar to the others they had holed up in, only larger. The vetalas kept moving from one location to another, not only to keep themselves from being discovered but to accommodate their growing numbers. However, he had the feeling this would be the last cavern he needed to hide in. As demons, vetalas were bound to darkness; the only way for them to exist in the sunlit world was when they walked upon it in their borrowed corporeal forms. He pulled his muzzle into a grotesque, feral grin. Soon, he would leave the darkness behind.
Growls echoed from the stone walls as the werewolves launched at one another, baring their teeth. Whimpers erupted every now and then when someone managed to pull off a successful attack; nothing too lethal, however. The new vetalas needed the training to get accustomed to the corporeal forms they had been assigned to, to learn how to navigate them without thinking about the proper commands for each move when they wanted to make it.
But the new bodies the wolf-man had supplied didn't have the fighting experience like the one he now inhabited had possessed, which meant they had to not only learn how to battle in the new skin, but condition the bodies to become warriors in the first place. They would never have the instinct of battle encoded in their muscles, but they could learn to move with lethal efficiency. The wolf-man was relentless, pushing the new werewolf vetalas to the stage of near exhaustion.
He waited his turn. Patiently. Those like him, those who had been implanted in warrior flesh at the very beginning of the surge of werewolf vetalas, would only need to spar in order to maintain their condition, and they could do it after the wolf-man drained the new recruits down to the last drop of energy left in those mortal bodies.
He questioned the wolf-man's method, knowing how easily the frail flesh could break; it would be foolish to waste the final wave of reinforcements because of brute discipline. They had already lost all human-shaped WVs, but those were a minor setback. Losing or even maiming wolves would be much worse for their cause.
Even without a warrior's form, the vetalas could still cause bloodshed with their demonic nature, but they would be of no use if the form were broken. They couldn't break away from a failing body and reinstate themselves in someone more...functional.
He growled under his breath, quietly enough for it to not reach the wolf-man's ears. He didn't want his wrath, didn't want to die within the mortal form, should the creature decide to punish him for his insolence.
He had lived too long to face such an end. If he were to perish in this corporeal state he was in, at least he intended to choose which opponent was the one to strike the killing blow. And slaughter as many as he could before he got there.
Chapter 32
“Your godly daddy looks like you've just given him a blow job.” Jens grinned at Rose when she and Veles stalked over to the table.
Rose didn't need to see the god's face to know which expression the blond werewolf was referring to. Ever since Veles had realized, without a shadow of a doubt, what her newly developed abilities meant, he had been looking at her like she was something out of a dream he had given up on a long time ago.
It had been strange at first, to see the sultry lord of the underworld act so mushy, but once she considered what it must have meant to him to finally find his counterpart after being alone in his lordly position for millennia, she decided not to give him a hard time about it. However, that didn't mean she wouldn't let the other werewolves have some fun. Especially since they all needed a good kick before returning to the whole vetala mess, which seemed to be much more complex than any of them could have anticipated.
It wasn't exactly an easy situation, even in the beginning when they had still thought it was a matter of genocide over the rare supernatural species, but the realization that someone truly was targeting Veles's rule alerted them to the frightening severity of the whole affair. It was nothing short of an act of war. Rose had told the pack about the relevance of the god's position at the gates between the two realms, and the werewolves didn't need to know much more to comprehend what it would mean for the gatekeeper to fall.
But now they have to face two, Rose thought, Veles's words echoing in her mind.
After the god had told her about her affinity for the living aspect of death, he revealed that by wielding that particular power, the one mysteriously flowing through her veins, she had become as much of a gatekeeper between the two worlds as he was; the only difference being that he stood on the underworld side of the threshold, while she kept watch on the very edge of the plane of the living, the passage lying between them.
Two sides of the same coin. A far more balanced coin than his father and Psoglav had ever been; they had both wielded the same power despite using it each in his own manner, which meant the two ancient keepers of the dead both belonged to the underworld, whereas the alliance between her and Veles acted as pure, true balance. The world had figured out a way to dispose of the flesh of their dead, leaving only the souls to take care of. There was no need for another Psoglav, but there was every reason to have a guardian for the last moments of someone's life as much as one for the first of death.
If the vetalas and their leader plotted to overturn Veles's reign, they certainly hadn't anticipated dealing with another powerful presence safeguarding the barrier between the living and the dead.
“Much, much better than that,” Veles replied lazily, snapping Rose out of her thoughts and diverting her attention to the satisfied god. His eyes were still dazed when he turned them upon the blond-haired werewolf and returned the grin. A very fanged grin.
“You're showing your bedroom teeth,” Jürgen joined in, flashing his canines as he smiled.
Veles merely stood there, smiling at the twins and looking as if he had been intoxicated out of his wits.
“If you three lovebirds have had enough, we have more serious matters to attend to than my mouth around Veles's shaft,” Rose intervened, not being able to resist taking at least one jab.
The twins erupted with growling laughter that brought tears to their eyes, and the rest of the pack echoed it, giving in to the pleasurable sensation. Even Nathaniel wasn't able to hold back a few chuckles.
“If I knew you guys were having so much fun, I would have joined you,” Frank's voice boomed from the other room. The werewolf must have heard the whole exchange while mixing drinks behind the counter.
Rose yelled over her shoulder to the closed door behind her. “We're back
to doing morbid world-saving stuff. More than welcome to join us, if you wish.”
Frank groaned, calling her a party pooper and, by the sound of his footsteps, returned to dealing with his patronage outside. Rose pulled out her chair, finally taking her seat while pulling Veles down with her at the same time. She took a deep breath and became exactly what the werewolf had labeled her as.
Her eyes scanned the werewolves and human huddled around the table. “Let's just say the god's ogling eyes have something to do with the fact that the enemy party won't be able to wreak havoc on Earth by breaking down the barriers between the realms as easily as they expected.”
She gave them a quick explanation of the meaning behind her power, keeping the information to the barest minimum that still made sense; not because she wanted to protect immortal knowledge, but because even she hadn't been able to fully comprehend its extent just yet.
“I have one question...” Mark sat up somewhat straighter in his chair, his gaze traveling across the gathered faces. “If the perpetrator's plan is to overthrow Veles, I need to ask again: why would the Gamayun choose us? Even the bond of The Dark Ones can't be enough to deal with forces that are capable of messing with immortal beings. There must be a whole pool of more suitable candidates for the job, candidates that aren't exactly, well, mortal...”
Clear-headedness visibly seeped into Veles's eyes as he calmly listened to the werewolf's words. His eyes flickered to Rose when he finally replied. “I think she knew.”
“The winged bastard knew of my powers?” Rose gasped, sensing the fury burn beacons of energy within the specks of gold.
“I wouldn't put it past her,” Veles retorted dryly, the displeasure pulling his face into tight lines. “It would almost be disappointing for a creature of such knowledge not to know even those matters that are kept hidden from others.”
“Basically, she got a two for one,” Zarja growled, the mythical being clearly not one of her favorites. “She got to release the bond of The Dark Ones as well as Rose's power. Sounds like a jackpot.”
As furious as Rose was for being used, being plunged blindly into something when it could have been explained beforehand, Zarja's snarling remark nonetheless made her feel somewhat better about the whole ordeal. She had missed the werewolf's no-nonsense attitude.
“The Gamayun may have had plans of her own, and if the result turns out to be something we aren't comfortable with, we'll deal with it when the time comes. But from our current standpoint, she did give us an advantage,” Evelin said calmly.
Rose could sense the silent pulse of respect in the werewolf's gaze when their eyes met. Not only had they gained strength through the bond of The Dark Ones, through Rose's own power, but the werewolf had also become a barrier nobody would have even dared to anticipate.
Veles's fingers wrapped around hers under the table, bringing her hand to rest on his thigh as he turned to her, almost hesitating before raising his eyes to hers. “Even if they succeed in overpowering me, they won't be able to merge the two worlds.”
Rose tightened her grip on Veles's hand, battling to keep her claws retracted as the rush of emotions washed through her. The god's skin felt cold under her touch, but the cool sensation wasn't the reason for the wave of shivers crawling down her spine. She kept a calm facade, biting back the tears that had threatened to overwhelm her at the image of the underworld without the self-assured, sultry god... Her other side of the coin. Her consort.
She managed to keep the tears from surfacing. Despite everything, her voice was calm, lined with a lethal determination when she began to speak. “We will hold the border between our worlds together. Even if I have to slash a thousand throats for you to remain by my side.”
Veles managed a weak smile. “I guess it's my turn to say you love me.”
Rose punched him in the shoulder with her free hand, and pressed her lips onto his before he even had the chance to react to the playful, perfectly landed blow of her fist. She breathed in his scent, dropped the last of her guards to taste the fine flavor of the god on her tongue. His essence rolled over her body until she felt her power wrapping around him, letting her know that the energy had every intention of backing up her resolve to burn down as many enemy lines as it took to ensure the god's safety.
It was the first time that she truly felt that the power had come from her, the first moment of perfect unison with the strength that had been dormant for more than two decades of her life.
The power recoiled when they broke the kiss, slowly releasing the vines it had curled around the tall figure, brushing his skin with ethereal caresses as it seeped back into her. She felt the pack's gaze on them, but the audience didn't give her any reason to feel embarrassed by their display of emotion when she turned to face them. The werewolves and even Nathaniel were looking at them with nothing but the sincerest affection, the kind of affection only a family could give you. A family willing to rip throats to protect their loved ones.
Chapter 33
Veles and Rose transported themselves from the back room of Pri Sojenicah, leaving behind nothing but the homely smell of the bar and the werewolves gaping at the empty spot where the two of them had stood only an eye blink ago. After they had the chance to grasp that this was what their previous method of transportation looked like, Tim excused himself, walking off with Nathaniel to catch a dinner date at their grandmother's; even a war crisis wasn't excuse enough to miss a meal at her place for her two beloved grandsons.
The rest of the pack moved out into the open air, lingering in the almost cool atmosphere of the approaching fall. They ordered a round of beer, keeping the conversation strictly to pleasure and giving themselves some breathing space from the suffocating thoughts and worrying images of what could possibly be a whole army of werewolf vetalas.
As much as he wished to, Veles hadn't been able to tell them even the approximate number of all the vetalas currently in existence; he reassured them that the world wasn't overflowing with the corpse-inhabiting demons, so there couldn't be that many of them gathered around the opposing force, but it wasn't as if the vetalas were among the rarest of the demon kinds, either. It was, however, a small consolation to the werewolves that they could reduce their numbers by slaughtering the corpses they inhabited. If the vetalas had kept their ability to move from body to body, the idea of facing an army of them would have been a lot more unpleasant than it already was.
Tim's and Rose's absence didn't go unnoticed when the werewolves sat down behind their regular table, but the pack could nonetheless feel that essence as if spending their time together, watching the afternoon turn to evening, was nothing more than one of their casual gatherings. The twins were complaining heatedly about the lack of new patrons, still competing among themselves for the second place on their fuck chart, while the rest of them discussed anything and everything that smelled even remotely normal.
Almost an hour had passed before Mark and Evelin excused themselves from the almost cheerful company, wishing to get back to Rafael before the cub went to sleep. For a moment, Zarja considered taking her leave as well, but decided to stay a little longer with the twins, even if she had absolutely zero intention of drinking away her evening like the two blond werewolves clearly did. It wasn't until the thickness seeped into their otherwise gentle German accent that Zarja knew it was time for her to go; the twins were on their way to have a growlingly good night, and her own mood was brightened enough that she actually wished for some time alone, instead of fearing it.
Although they had spent quite some time at Pri Sojenicah, it still wasn't too late in the evening for the streets to not be a charmingly peculiar mix of people leaving from work and those headed out for the night. There were even some tourists thrown into the blend, but the high season was clearly fading away into that low-key buzz of a metropolis, when there would be nothing but the locals left on the drizzling streets of a foggy Ljubljana caught in the atmosphere of fall. As Zarja prowled the old city towards her apartment, a sense of
composed clarity washed over her. She had been furious, self-destructive in her attempt to mourn Libor.
But Zarja now knew why she couldn't grieve for her cousin. Not yet. She needed to be the one to lay his body to rest. And to rip apart the festering vetala leech in the process.
Veles took Rose to his mountain retreat, as he liked to call it. Since they were using the fastest method of transportation possible, they didn't need to stay close to the pack in case an emergency arose and the werewolves needed to act on it quickly. Rose was surprised by the fairly modest size of the wooden cabin, surprised by how very unlike all his other residences this one was of those she had seen so far. Yet the god's impeccable taste of style remained present even here. And she loved it.
The cabin lay in the Trentino area of Italy, a place she would have never linked Veles to. The secluded spot he had chosen offered a wide view of the still green surroundings, the freshness of the air letting her know they were some length away from Trento, encircled by nothing but nature.
They sat down on the white rug spread across the floor of the spacious living room, and she couldn't peel her eyes from the floor-to-ceiling glass wall that bathed the room in the subdued colors of evening light. For a brief moment, she could forget about everything that needed to be done, about everything that she had learned as the pack dug deeper into discovering the foul forces behind the murders.
Veles shifted his position, and the small intrusion of sound was enough to snap her out of the dreamlike state of mind. Without spending a breath, she accepted what had to be done. Her body ached from the turmoil of the past few days, but she knew the time for rest and recovery would come later. A steaming cup of coffee caressed her senses just enough for her to be certain that she could live through a little more work before finally collapsing into bed with her body pressed tightly to the warmth of her god.
