by Gaja J. Kos
She already reeked from the slaughter, but at least the fabric softener took some of the edge off. Unless they had excellent preternatural senses, not everybody would be able to smell Rose as he took her across town. Besides, Tim figured the were needed a break from the stench. It didn’t escape him that the position Rose had chosen granted her the mercy of not having to look at the carnage she had left behind.
Though the bond wasn’t fully open, Tim sensed his pack mate had enough thoughts screaming and bashing in her head to bring on a mean headache. She truly didn’t need to fuel them with a visual as well.
The memories flowing through the ethereal link stretched between them were enough.
Rose’s discomfort grew, becoming so strong that the bond began to shake with the storm her emotions had turned into. Tim’s hackles rose—how one person could carry so much was beyond him.
“It’s only been three months,” he offered, his words soft. “Their wrath will wane eventually. And they’ll realize just how unjustified their fears were. How irrational they had made them.”
But he could see his reassurances had simply bounced off Rose, scattering through the now slightly chilled air.
“I did murder one of them, Tim,” she replied coldly, gazing into the night that had lain down on Ljubljana’s streets.
Through the bond, Tim saw and felt it all. The view was peaceful, serene. And it meant absolutely nothing to her.
Rose’s voice was heavy yet small as she added, “Maybe their wrath is justified.”
Tim fell silent.
He sensed with painful accuracy that Rose had meant it. Just as he knew in the marrow of his bones that there was nothing he could do to convince her otherwise. Nothing anybody could do to ease her guilt, since the one person that had the ability to pull her out of the darkness, aside from the were herself, was now absent from her life.
Like the rattled vampires, Rose needed time to process what she had unknowingly, unwillingly done.
All Tim could hope for was that his friend wouldn’t do anything rash as she struggled.
And that the scars wouldn’t reach too deep.
The healthy, low roar of Tim’s Harley speeding off in the distance announced her newly founded solitude. Rose closed her eyes, exhaling. It had been a long day, and she looked forward to soaking in her tub with a bottle of wine keeping her company.
Only she wasn’t alone.
Rose sniffed the air, discovering the one vampiric scent she knew with absolute certainty meant her no harm. Though she still had a hard time fathoming why someone would choose to side with a vamp-murderess.
The familiar fragrance was embedded in the night’s currents that swayed gently as they flowed down the street, curving around her almost as if they were whispering a silent greeting. Though, perhaps, that was exactly what it was—a soft warning so Rose wouldn’t get spooked.
She veered around the corner and stalked up to the building’s main entrance. A curvy figure lounged against the door, dressed in form-fitting jeans and a simple tee that shifted lightly as it danced with the gentle May breeze. Her curls were ironed into a sleek, straight mass of chestnut hair and pulled back with a deep blue bandana that showed off the lovely planes of her face.
Katja smiled at Rose when she saw her approaching, yet the barely noticeable strain pulling on her lips testified that she was well aware of what had transpired in that Chernobog-damned alley. Rose made a mental note to thank Jürgen for passing on the information he had received from Tim. She wasn’t sure she had enough energy to repeat the bloody details of the ambush to anybody. Even her friend.
Taking in the caked blood on Rose’s cheeks and dried trails of crimson that curved down her slender neck, the vamp pursed her lips then gave her an acknowledging nod. “Nice makeup.”
Rose paused, taken by surprise. She met the vampire’s gaze, and despite the exhaustion, the fury, and that deeply rooted pain that she feared was now a fundamental part of her, she laughed.
When Rose emerged from the bathroom, finally free of that vile reek of death and her skin once again her own, she found Katja cradling an already half-empty glass of blood. Rose plopped herself down on the chair opposite the vampire, pouring her own glass to the brim with wine.
Accidentally, her fingers brushed the marks on the table as she placed down the bottle—passionate, rough reminders of her time with the lord of the underworld, etched into the wood for eternity. She closed her eyes. The intimacy the gashes held seemed lifetimes away now.
The comfort, the sensation of feeling safe. Neither of those things existed in Rose’s reality any longer.
The memories seemed adamant to pull her into the darkness she had barely crawled out of. So, as tasking as it was, Rose ignored them and instead turned her full attention on Katja.
The vampire wasn’t here without reason. Not tonight.
“Jürgen already filled you in, I presume?” Rose sighed and took a large gulp of her Cabernet.
The vampire nodded, gently trailing the rim of the glass with her finger. Her blue-green gaze turned a shade darker as she said, “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”
Not a question, yet phrased as one—as if Katja hoped Rose might deny the undeniable. But she merely dipped her chin and blew out another breath.
“If the twentyfourhourlies are willing to work with traditionals—and from what I saw today, they had absolutely no issues cooperating with one another—I just may end up on the losing side of this power struggle, Katja. Along with everybody that supports me.”
Rose had thought long and hard about giving herself over to the enemies, to pay the price of peace with her life. But with the bond of The Dark Ones firmly in place, the idea was nothing more than an impossible wish. Her death was one thing, but she couldn’t sacrifice her pack even if they would march into the underworld with her willingly.
It was why she had kept her thoughts to herself. The lack of an outlet drove her mad, yet she knew that talking about it with the pack wasn’t likely to improve the situation. She certainly didn’t have the energy to argue with them.
Katja leaned back in her chair, her legs stretched out in front of her. Silently, she tipped her head back and stared at the ceiling, waiting for her even breaths to calm the raging heartbeat Rose had no problems hearing from across the table. “I think you have enough allies to crush this resistance,” the vampire finally replied. She lowered her gaze from the modern chandelier that illuminated the space, her eyes finding Rose’s once more. “But it will be bloody.”
A tired, helpless growl that turned into a sigh reverberated through the room. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid. How can I convince the wider vampire community I mean them no harm if every person that opposes me ends up as carrion? How can I be a benevolent 'goddess' if I build my reign on the blood of the living?” Rose groaned. “Having to fight them goes against everything I’m trying to achieve. I know it’s self-defense, I know that given the chance, they’d try to slaughter me without even blinking... But then I’m the one doing the slaughtering while proclaiming I’m not a threat at the same time. Right. Even I wouldn’t believe that scenario. I honestly don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do, Katja...”
“I think you should leave for a while,” the vampire said softly, almost cautiously.
Silence lingered in the air between them, interrupted only by the faint hum of cars in the distance.
“What?” Rose asked after strenuous seconds had passed, the wine glass in her hands forgotten.
But before the vampire could reply, a series of knocks landed against the door, the sound crashing through the apartment like thunder. Katja gave Rose a short nod to reassure her that they would continue the conversation later, though she wasn’t quite certain if she liked where the damn thing was headed.
Not that she had much choice in the matter, if the determination on Katja’s face was any indication.
Inhaling the scent that weaved through the cracks, Rose prowled towards the
entrance. She doubted anybody was foolish enough to attack her at her home, but precautions weren’t something she took lightly any longer.
Air filled her lungs, her mind analyzing the individual components. The newcomer’s scent was familiar, welcoming.
Rose unlocked the door and took in the large figure that filled the hallway. “Hi, Seb.”
Without a second lost, the Kresnik pulled her into an embrace. “Are you all right?” he whispered into Rose’s hair, those large arms of his forming a cocoon of safety around her.
No, perhaps not all safety was gone from her life.
She allowed herself to be cradled, savoring the small moment when the weight of every damn thing wasn’t clawing at her mind.
“Rose?” Sebastian tried again, shifting his stance to peer down at her.
Although reluctantly, She stepped back and spread her hands to show that her body was intact. Well, mostly. “Perfectly fine, as you can see.”
“No, I meant are you all right, Rose.”
She looked into those green eyes, filled with concern, filled with years upon years of friendship, and she simply couldn’t bring herself to lie. Not anymore.
“No,” she breathed. “No, I’m not all right.”
Chapter 3
“And you agree with this?” Rose turned towards Sebastian, her eyes narrowed by the growing skepticism and discomfort.
The dining room suddenly seemed too small to hold all three of them.
Pressure increased in Rose’s head, echoing the unpleasant sensation. Yet the Kresnik appeared to be oblivious to the shift in the atmosphere.
He shrugged his massive shoulders, the wine swirling languidly in his glass.
Rose had a hard time believing the immortal supported her running away from her problems. She certainly felt the action was somehow wrong. Though wrong was a disgusting understatement.
Werewolves never turned their backs on a difficult situation.
And they most certainly never walked away from their pack. No matter how difficult the situation.
The impulse to stick together was coded in their genes. Only foolish actions that threatened the overall safety of the group merited leaving somebody behind. However, that entitled the pack to distance itself from the individual—not the other way around.
Rose groaned inwardly. Perhaps their rules didn’t carry enough merit to exist in these new, Chernobog-damned times.
“Katja’s right,” Sebastian finally replied, shattering Rose’s last hopes of someone else sharing her line of reasoning. “With you here, things will probably get worse before they get any better.”
She cocked her head to the side—there was something about Sebastian’s tone that rang more than one alarm inside her. He had tried to sound casual, but after knowing him for more than two decades, she wasn’t fooled. “You heard something, haven’t you? Something’s changed…”
The Kresnik sighed, his gaze darting between Rose and the vampire. The air seemed to go still, the dining room now becoming unbearably claustrophobic. Even Katja tensed, an odd shadow laying down on her face as if some dreaded suspicion had just been confirmed. Not a suspicion. A fear.
Yet she knew Sebastian. Knew the extent of his knowledge, the wide net the immortal’s connections formed. Whatever it was that caused him concern, it couldn’t have been just the vamp resistance Katja fought with the help of like-minded vampiric individuals.
Not one issue, but two. And she truly didn’t feel like being kept in the dark.
“Well?” she pushed, impatience rising within her.
The day had been long. Too long. If there was something she needed to be aware of, she preferred to get it over with as soon as possible. With the situation already being as shitty as it was, coddling wasn’t an option—even if her head felt like cracking along her temples.
“The vampires have created enough noise in the last month to alert others to their fight,” the Kresnik said as his eyes gained a sheen of teal.
Katja nodded in confirmation, that shadow on her face growing darker—Rose took notice of the shift, understanding that the issues with the vamp community were getting worse. Yet Katja didn’t say a word as Sebastian continued. Clearly, even the vampire realized there was something more going on.
“I don’t just mean the ones they had tried recruiting in the weeks that followed Vaclav’s death. Those were a nuisance, a few more bodies for you—for us—to take care of... Not even that many of them had chosen to ally themselves with the vamps. Since they weren’t part of the power game or afraid for their position in the hierarchy, they felt no need to endanger themselves for nothing. After all, it had become clear that your power affected vampires and vampires only. That’s why only Katja’s kin flocked to Vaclav’s acolytes, traditionals, and twentyfourhourlies alike.
“But this new surge of resistance reached even those communities that are more remote, more detached from the dealings of this world. And although they are not yet as involved or informed as the rest of the supernaturals, the subject has been brought to their attention.” He fell silent, his jaw tense and teeth grinding as he took a long breath. The look he gave Rose was one she had hoped never to see on the Kresnik’s face. Complete fear. “There have been whispers, Rose, that news of some unnatural force now in existence has reached the Vedmaks.”
“Shit,” Rose murmured, pressing the cool surface of her wineglass to her forehead.
She hadn’t truly believed she would stay off the warlocks' radar for long, not with all the traction she had been getting lately. But it would have been nice to remain unnoticed for just a little while longer. Possibly until the pack gained the upper hand on the damned vampire situation...
Katja peered at her from the side, confusion lining her features. Though she didn’t want to, Rose ignored the silent question. The vampire could wait. At least until she learned the sole thing that might still make a difference.
“Are they planning to look into it? Into me?” Rose pressed.
Sebastian downed his wine in a single breath and cast a quick glance at Katja before he returned his full attention on Rose. “None of the people I trust with this information are close enough to the Vedmaks to confirm what’s going on behind closed doors. But right this moment... No, I don’t believe so.
“They have been isolated from the wider community for long enough to make them doubt any outside news. Or, at the very least, perceive it as some frightened exaggeration on the vampires’ part. The gods know they never thought too highly of them, anyway. No one has mentioned your age, Rose, only that you’re a werewolf, so that makes connecting the dots a little harder.” He smiled distantly, yet it didn’t reach the hard edge of his eyes.
But not impossible. Rose sneered inwardly as she topped off her glass of wine and reached over to pour Sebastian’s as well.
Nodding to herself as she went through the motions, Rose fought the pulse that blasted in her ears. It took a shitload of control, but she needed to clear her head and look at the situation objectively.
There were many werewolves out in the world, and apparently, the reports of her power weren’t particularly detailed. Without the Vedmaks being able to connect her birth to the same year they had slaughtered Bogdan, chances of them sniffing her out were in her favor. Besides, Ileana had only moved to the capital after Rose’s birth, so that was another plus, in case her current location had been passed on to the bastards.
Even if the Vedmaks had learned into which parts of the country Bogdan had been disappearing to, there was no direct link.
Not until they saw her.
But once they did, once they saw and felt her energy, none of that would make a difference.
The single consolation was that until then, Rose had some time to come up with a solid course of action. Though in that moment, she failed to see a single one.
Rose put down the bottle, her hand plucking a cigarette for the half-empty pack. She lit it, savoring the familiar, calming sensation before she exhaled and turn
ed towards Katja, the words already grouping in her chest.
The vampire had been sitting still the whole time, almost as if she were trying to make herself as small as possible. Rose couldn’t blame her, not with the minute, but very telling glance she had seen Sebastian shoot the voluptuous woman.
The Kresnik had a knack for making you feel as if you were interrupting a private conversation.
His need to protect his wards—even former ones, at that—was such a fundamental part of him that it seeped to the surface even at times it wasn’t called for. But Katja shouldn’t have felt cast out from their circle. She should’ve never felt anything less than an integral part of the pack, as well as Rose’s life.
She exhaled, smoke swirling towards the ceiling.
“I had no intention of keeping this a secret from you,” she said to the vampire. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but with all the bloodshed happening at every step, it was kind of hard to find the proper moment for something that I didn’t think would become important quite so soon. Besides, you know just what a mess my mind had been for the past few weeks.”
The vampire dipped her chin in acknowledgment, and Rose took a sip of her Cabernet, licking her lips to not let even a drop go to waste. Lately, she found wine to be the only constant positive in her life. Aside from the rabid vamps that seemed to have a yearning for her blood, of course.
Rose frowned, shaking the thought from her head. Both of them.
The Vedmaks had learned of her existence, and it wouldn’t take them long to discover her identity. Maybe finding consolation in wine wasn’t the wisest choice of lifestyle while she still had an advantage over the shape-shifting sacks of shit.
Rose shoved the glass across the table with the tips of her fingers, then leaned forward. “This energy that I possess isn’t something that should be in existence. You know that already. Veles, he—he disagreed with me; disagreed with the world, for that matter. He believed I was the Yang to his Yin. His equal in power. Only lighter, brighter. Created to reign over the souls that are still tethered to our world. I’m supposed to be the overseer of their final moments. Not of death. But of life.
