by Gaja J. Kos
She perked up, a thought slowly forming in her head. But she let him continue, holding the question to herself for the time being.
“Eventually, they—we—will be hunted again. And I, for one, like my vanilla life,” the vampire spat out. “This is as much of a fight for the pack as it is for me. So…” His voice became softer, almost pleading. “Just let me help in whichever way I can.”
Exhaling, she straightened her back. “Fine, you’re on the team. But before we go out hunting to see if Barle is stirring up shit again, I need you to answer me something.”
Dragan’s face was a mask of perfect attention, and once again, she saw a reflection of her own past in the vampire.
Damn it all to Chernobog, but she understood. Dragan needed this.
“Which species did you have in mind?”
Chapter 29
Rose sat alone in her dining room, munching on a fresh croissant—courtesy of Veles. Though the god had left before she turned in for the night, he must have popped into her apartment in the early hours of morning and prepared her breakfast. The only thing she had to do on her own was heat up the water for her cup of coffee.
The affection brought a smile to her face.
She sensed it must have been just as difficult for the god to gather enough strength to leave her side as it had been for her to watch him vanish from the middle of her dining room. She had wanted him to stay, had wanted to crawl under the covers and fall asleep in the embrace of his arms. Only she knew herself well enough that there would have been no rest if he had stayed.
The god’s insatiable hunger was a match to her own, a heated wind that would erupt the instant they would let their guard slip.
Saying goodnight had been hard enough on its own. If she could, she would have spent hours sitting in his lap, her thoughts drifting to the undeniable hardness of his demand that brushed against her, the details painfully vivid even through the fabric of their clothes.
But they needed time.
It was such a cliché, and a not so small part of her kept roaring that time was exactly the thing they didn’t have. But they wanted to do this properly.
No rush. No buried emotions and resentment.
Nothing that could undermine their second chance.
Still, the bed had felt empty as she crawled under the thin covers, almost unable to fall asleep. Because even after all these months, not being able to rest her head in the nook of Veles’ shoulder was something she had to deal with night after night as if it was the first. Knowing the god was just a whisper away made it even harder.
She swallowed the rest of the croissant, took a long sip of her coffee, and glanced at the clock.
The pack meeting was set at noon, leaving her a solid two and a half hours to get ready. Katja had sent everybody a text twenty minutes ago, just when Rose had finally dragged herself out of bed—for once managing to get up without as much as a snarl. She hadn’t even cursed at the cryptic message that had offered no explanations as to why it was important to talk face to face. But she had read the urgency between the lines and was surprised to find a positive undertone lurking within it. Something she certainly hadn’t been expecting.
Without an emergency breathing down her neck, the remaining hours allowed her to have the morning all to herself and put some much-needed distance between her and the rest of the world—at least for a few hours. It wasn’t like she couldn’t use the time to ponder over last night’s events. Or to obtain a few missing pieces of information.
The night had belonged to thoughts of her god. Now, she had to clear up a few that were focused purely on her.
She peered at the clock on the wall again.
Ileana would rip her head off.
Stifling a laugh, she lit a cigarette and picked up her phone.
“Rose?” a hoarse voice asked after the fifth ring. “Is something wrong?”
“No, mumsy,” she replied, wincing as the moniker slipped from her lips. “Can you make yourself a cup of coffee? I need to ask you a couple of things.”
A long snarl—which was quite possibly a string of curses—came over the receiver, and Rose listened to the shifting of bedsheets and her mother’s trudging footsteps as Ileana dragged herself into the kitchen. Rose waited in silence until she heard the coffee sizzle in the cup, imagining Ileana shuffle around the tall counter, her hair a mess of disheveled curls that framed the were’s sleep-softened face.
“Okay, now drink it,” she commanded at the sound of the water heater being placed back down.
Surprisingly—or perhaps not, given her love for the thing—Ileana obeyed her without protest. The coffee was hot, not only in human but werewolf terms, as well. However, quite early in her life Rose had gotten used to how her mother never flinched as she downed the scalding beverage. Sometimes, Ileana defied even the supernatural laws of physics.
Just once, Rose had tried to see if she had inherited her mother’s peculiar ability—the numb, burnt taste in her mouth that had lasted throughout the day had been enough to never make her want to attempt it again.
On the other end of the line, Ileana seemed completely unaffected.
“Will you tell me what’s happening now?” the were half snarled over the receiver.
Rose dragged on her cigarette, exhaling until she was sitting in a cloud of smoke, and said, “I’ve accepted that I’m a goddess.”
“Of course you are, honey. I kept telling you that since you were a child,” Ileana crooned in a drowsy voice, the snarl now gone. “Is that because you and Veles are back together?”
Of all the things her mother could pick up through their special connection, that was the information that came through.
“No,” Rose growled softly. “I mean yes, we are together, but that wasn’t what I was aiming at, Mom. I’ve acknowledged the fact that I’m a…deity.” She choked on the last word, doubting it would ever feel natural to call herself that.
The silence was absolute.
“You have ascended?”
“Not yet,” Rose breathed, fighting the light nausea that almost made her regret the croissant she had eaten. “Not in the ‘the world proclaims me as their deity’ kind of way, at least. I guess that part is still coming. But before that happens, I need to know about the knowledge of the higher circles.”
Ileana mumbled something that might have been a hm?
“Veles confirmed that I will have access to the knowledge pertinent to my position,” Rose hurried, not giving Ileana a chance to dwell on the other information she had dropped on her. “You never told me… How did it happen for you?”
Ileana took a sip of coffee large enough that it had probably depleted the mug and replied, “A part of it consists of meetings and classified files. Quite human, actually. But that covers only the newest developments, the ones that are too fresh to be sensed. The larger part is locked within your mind.”
Frowning, Rose put out her cigarette and leaned on the table with one elbow. “You mean I carry it already?”
She had known Veles’ mind was a labyrinth of ancient knowledge, but she always assumed it had been the god’s long life that had built that particular library. Rose swore under her breath.
She should have asked him all of this yesterday.
“Use what is unique to you, and the gates will open.”
Rose huffed. “Any pointers?”
All these mystic aspects were really starting to get on her nerves. The bond of The Dark Ones. Her energy. The whispers of Mokoš. Now this.
She never was one to pay much attention to manuals, but in this case, she would gladly give up her precious Defender for one.
On the other end of the line, Ileana remained silent. Rose half-wondered if her mother had fallen asleep but was proven wrong as Ileana said, “For me, it was the blood of Mokoš powering the wolf. A hunt in the woods under a cloudless night sky as I struggled with your grandmother’s passing. It was as if…as if a wall had shattered inside my mind, allowing me to look at a whol
e new world within my thoughts. Not merely the aspects I hadn’t been aware of previously, but it also illuminated the things I thought I already understood, deepened their meaning. Terrifying and wonderful at the same time.”
Rose didn’t reply. She tried to wrap her mind around what Ileana was saying—or rather, the technicality of it.
Since her mother still carried the title of the descendant of Mokoš, the sole thing unique to her was her power. And although her energy hadn’t misbehaved lately, going to Dr. Xu’s while she rummaged for the answers might not be a bad idea. Even if the mere thought of needles made Rose flinch.
“You’re a goddess,” Ileana muttered, cutting through the silence.
“Yeah, you and Bogdan really hit it out of the park with me,” Rose blurted, barely realizing her words. She took a long breath and sighed. “Be careful, mom. The Vedmaks are already on my trail and when they learn that I’m your daughter—”
“—I’ll rip them all apart.”
“I know you will,” Rose whispered, nearly choking on a sob. “But be careful, please. We still have to go to Paris, you know.”
“Just to make it clear.” Ileana cleared her throat. “This time, you will be the one buying me macaroons.”
Much to Rose’s surprise, blue skies stretched outside for the second day in a row. It was miracle weather by Ljubljana’s standards, and she was adamant not to let it go to waste. Besides, shuffling around in her dining room and bashing her head over what Ileana had told her wasn’t the least bit productive. Nor did it sit well with her idea of having a laid-back morning.
With time left to kill before the meeting, taking the long way around to the city center was a given.
She craved the physical sensation of walking to take her mind off things. Since there were no conveniently empty woods nearby, it was the next best thing she could do. Running like humans did, sneakers and all, wasn’t the most appealing concept. Not being able to feel the ground beneath her feet seemed unnatural and was—more often than not—a guarantee for frustration. Walking, on the other hand, was a pleasure in every form. Even with shoes kept on.
The streets were busy, but since the rush hour had already gone by and the next one wasn’t due until after lunch, their company was enjoyable. Sunlight bathed her skin, a sense of normalcy lingering in the air.
She couldn’t even begin to count the many times she had walked like this towards Pri Sojenicah, losing herself in her thoughts before she’d drink a few beers with the pack and head home with Zarja under her arm.
A half smile curled on her lips.
Back then, her mind had been overrun with concern of whether or not Zarja would fall off the radar again or if she was spending those evenings they weren’t together in that shit-ass bar where her ex worked. Talking the were out of it had been useless. Rose lost more nerves in those futile attempts than she dared to admit, and going for a solitary stroll was a necessity if she wanted to take the edge off.
A bitter laugh bubbled from her lips. The walks had always been therapeutic, but she had merely substituted one set of problems for another.
She veered right, following the sidewalk of the large roundabout.
She’d speak with Veles. And she’d speak with Serafina. And if neither produced any useful information as to how Rose, personally, could access the knowledge locked inside her head, she could mull over the problem, snarling as her thoughts led her in circles. Like old times.
Testing out the waters with her own energy was a last resort. Despite the golden light being devoid of any outside influence, she was determined to tread carefully when using it to achieve an unfamiliar goal. She had already learned enough lessons to last her a lifetime.
The power within her bristled in response.
Fine, she thought. We’ll have our fun in the evening. But if you misbehave, I’m taking our ass to Xu’s.
The energy calmed down, retreating to its depths. She let out a huff.
She walked down the straight stretch of road that led towards the center, cyclists swooshing past her left ear. Seriously considering smacking the next one who tried to veer around her on the sidewalk rather than using the road, she stopped in her tracks. She had just reached a popular intersection, expecting her ears to hum with the mass of roaring engines… But instead, she found silence.
The crossroads grew dark, a black mist cutting her off from the rest of the world.
Thick clouds hovered around her, interchanging belts of deep gray and pure black. None of it natural. Even the pavement beneath her feet was indistinguishable under the layer of darkness that crawled over her boots.
She swore.
Golden energy inside her flared with recognition as the magic touched her, sending her claws flying out, sharp and prepared. Weapons would do her little good when she couldn’t see her attacker. And if she lost one of her knives, she’d only give the bastard another means to fight her with.
Without giving away her intentions, she slashed through the unnatural fog, cutting through thin air. Thick fabric brushed against the side of her palm before it twisted away.
Almost.
Keeping her breaths low, she heard the figure shift again—mere inches from where she had struck.
The sound was detached somehow, muted by the darkness. No footsteps, only a whisper of breath and the soft rustle of clothes.
She closed her eyes, opening her werewolf senses as wide as she could while allowing the energy within her, that odd pull she felt coming from her, to lead her in the right direction.
Painfully slow, the fragments fell together, forming a vague image on her mental grid.
“Too scared to show your face?” she snarled, gently shifting her weight on the blanket of mist that had slithered beneath the soles of her boots.
The figure didn’t answer—not that she had expected it to give away its location so easily. But the words had been provocation enough.
The vibrations of a hushed breath reached her ears, the brush of a cloak against leather…
She permitted herself a homicidal grin, and without making a sound, threw herself into the black fog, her claws finding home in the Vedmak’s flesh.
She drove the man down, using the full force of her body as they tumbled onto the unnervingly solid slab of dark mist. The warlock squirmed beneath her, limbs thrashing in an attempt to free himself, but she kept him pinned to the ground. Barely sparing a thought, power rushed through her, creating a wall of gold around her body as it ensconced every inch of her skin.
Magic pushed at the golden light, probing the smooth, otherworldly surface for cracks that weren’t there. The sensation was eerily similar to what she had experienced in Mračaj when she had tried holding her ground against the wolf-man. But in that shattered realm, she had been weak—a child, dabbling with forces she didn’t understand because of her own bloody stubbornness.
And it had been that gods-damned weakness that had led to the simargl’s death.
Never again.
Her energy began to burn at the memories, thickening the protective layer until it sizzled with pure, unrestricted power. The Vedmak issued a cry as the farthest layer of his magic rebounded, piercing his own flesh instead.
Grip firm and unyielding, Rose cocked her head to the side, observing the warlock with her features turned into a mask of utter calmness.
She knew the face—the fire-touched hair and cruel, thin lips. Had known it even before Zarja had let her memories meld with Rose’s mind.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” she sneered, each word filled with icy rage. “This is what you did to my father. A whole fucking room of you worthless pieces of shit did this.”
Something shifted in the warlock’s eyes at Rose’s admission of her lineage. Hatred. And fear.
She hadn’t wanted to come clean, but to Chernobog with everything. It wasn’t like the Vedmak would get to walk away from this.
No, this little chat would remain between them, the memory of her words carried only into Veles’
realm.
“No chains. No chain mail.” She smiled, showing him the sharp tips of her teeth. Golden energy spread from her arms, crawled down the Vedmak’s chest, and stopped when it covered his whole torso. “See? It’s all me.”
The man screeched as the golden light blocked the magic that was seeping from him, redirecting its currents so they pummeled straight back into his flesh. Rammed into him. Her barrier was without flaw, the very essence of it rebuffing every atom of the warlock’s power.
She clicked her tongue. “And I’m merely covering your chest.” She laughed, barely recognizing her own voice. The sound that spilled from her lips was stripped of all traces that might be considered human. Stripped of the neatly painted walls that made a person civil. She was more than the beast inside her. She was power. And she was vengeance. “I wonder… What would happen if I allowed it to spread?”
A single vine of light curled itself around the Vedmak’s waist. He thrashed in her arms, but her claws and legs kept him pinned to the ground.
“It’s trying to protect you, isn’t it?” she said, the words almost a whisper. “Oh, but you know that already. Why would you try turning it against my father if it were different… Why would you torture him by manipulating his own defenses… Hm?”
She spilled a dash more of her strength into the opaque golden sheen that rested unmoving on the Vedmak’s chest. The warlock screamed, his face a contorted mask of pain as his magic reacted, ripping at his insides.
Gods, she wanted him to suffer.
She wanted him to know just what he and his brethren had so willingly done to Bogdan.
She wanted to see the bloody, filthy life leave his eyes, wanted him to be wrapped in the sweet embrace of agony.
