by Gaja J. Kos
“Hopefully productive hunting, too.” Her tone was light, but there was a wistfulness to it that no amount of effort could mask. She glanced at her watch. Fifteen minutes to closing.
“I’ve got to go now,” she said, already eyeing the windows of the small store sitting just a little farther down the road. “And remember, the pack owes you a beer. Or three.”
Tomo laughed. “Counting on it.”
The call disconnected, and Evelin shoved the phone into her small linen backpack. She did another quick scan of the store, but by the looks of it, there were no customers inside. Good. She didn’t want anyone overhearing her questions.
Smoothing down her short, dark ponytail, she squared her shoulders and transformed into just another innocent shopper. She pushed down the ornate handle and stepped inside, the alluring smell of paper flooding her senses. There truly was no scent quite like stationery and books, and she didn’t doubt for a second that growing up in Nikolai’s library had been the last nail in that particular coffin. She smiled and trailed her gaze around the shop.
The square-shaped room was filled to the brim with shelves boasting various upscale stationery, with a narrow aisle in the middle displaying colorful notebooks and other school supplies, catering to a variety of tastes. The cashier’s desk was abandoned, but Evelin could hear someone shuffling about in the back room—unboxing new arrivals, by the sound of it.
Not wanting to disturb them just yet, she did a circle around the shop, her gaze skimming over each and every pile of ornate stationery stacked there. The selection wasn’t quite as vast as in some of the stores she had already scouted—and the establishment certainly didn’t hold that lush edge the rest of them had, although possessing infinitely more charm—but its location was convenient. As was the lack of security cameras in the vicinity.
Nothing short of a miracle this close to the center.
The only reason it had taken her this long to find it was the lack of a website. She smiled at herself.
That’s what you get for relying too much on the comforts of modern age and technology.
Her expression died down as a thought surfaced from some inky depth of her mind.
The Upirs weren’t modern.
She let out a long breath, ignoring the buzz of excitement rushing through her limbs, mixed in with just a pinch of trepidation, and continued with her search. Just as she reached the third row of paper, a golden glint caught her eye. Slowly, she extracted a sheet from the plastic drawer, her heartbeat becoming a heavy thump in her ears.
The thickness, the weight, even the ornate gold line—the stationery belonged to the exact same stock the Upirs used.
Chewing on her lip, Evelin reminded herself that her discovery didn’t mean a thing. Not yet. She’d found other shops, carrying this exact stock, but had reached a dead end when tracking down the customers. So far, all she had stumbled upon were individuals whose identities had been checked easily, and not one of them had been even remotely linked to the long list of names Rose had produced, vampire and Upir alike.
But still, the faint tremors inside her refused to let go of the belief that this lead just might be the one that would pan out.
“Hello?” She called loud enough for the shopkeeper to hear her all the way in the back.
Her question was immediately met by the light thud of footsteps, and Evelin smiled as a gray-haired woman padded into the store. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t hear you. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“It’s no problem,” Even said softly, fumbling the sheet of paper in her hands. “But I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
The woman’s light brown eyes widened. “Of course, dear. What are you searching for?”
Hands crossed in front of her chest, Katja observed the slender were in her slick black clothes as she circled round the tied-up twentyfourhourly. Once. Twice. Zarja’s claws were on display, a promise of what was to come should he refuse to cooperate.
Which was precisely what the vampire had been doing for the past twenty minutes.
He jutted his jaw defiantly, dark eyes narrowed, although that was partially due to the bruise already blooming on his right side. Still tucked to her side, Katja’s hand balled into a fist as she remembered the hit and her own, now buried, weakness. It was almost hard to wrap her head around the fact that she had once given the rogue twentyfourhourlies the benefit of the doubt instead of casting their rotten spirits into Veles’s realm before they as much as showed their fangs. That just because they were her kin, she had been so damned hesitant. She hissed.
Every rogue she had crossed, even then, had been precisely like the scum sitting in front of her now. Belonging to the twisted cause of vampiric supremacy with their heart, mind, and soul.
Luckily, the vamp before her would keep none of those three things for long.
A loud smack ricocheted off the bare walls of the warehouse as Zarja’s hand connected with the vampire’s cheek. His head snapped to the side, a trickle of blood snaking from the corner of his mouth and down his chin, where it soaked into the fabric of his gray T-shirt.
“Names, Tibor. Give us the names,” the werewolf snarled, flashing the sharp tips of her canine teeth.
But the vamp only spat a mouthful of blood, his eyes shooting daggers. “Go fuck yourselves.”
This time, it was Katja’s fist that connected with his face. She’d moved closer in a blur, catching the vampire by surprise. His head bobbed, breaths ragged as he fought the pain that was faintly echoed in Katja’s now raw knuckles.
“We know you’re colluding with the Upirs, Tibor. And your name had already come up as one of the individuals Barle was in direct contact with.”
Beside her, Zarja snarled at the dead vamp’s name, a sound built from embers of pure anger, as a cold, lethal glint flashed in her eyes. The werewolf leaned towards the prisoner. “Do you know where you are?” She motioned to the wide, open space of the warehouse. “You do, don’t you? This was one of your lairs. A former lair. As former as all your cronies who died here by our hand.”
Not exactly the truth, since it had been Veles who had taken the warehouse by storm, but there was no point in getting caught up on details. Especially when the taunt worked.
A flicker of anger surged in the vampire’s eyes, Katja’s body tightening with anticipation. She never thought she could look forward to breaking someone as much as she did now. A smile pulled at her lips, all fangs and the icy promise of pain.
“With your help or not, we’ll find each and every one of you,” she said softly. “The only thing that remains uncertain is just how long we’ll keep you from stepping into the embrace of death while your entire body screams to be granted its mercy.”
To prove a point, Zarja sank her claws a hair’s width beneath the vamp’s collarbone. Tibor squirmed uncomfortably, but there was still that defiance in his eyes, as if he knew some Chernobog-damned secret the pack would never find out. Katja arched an eyebrow at the were, confirming she hadn’t been the only one who spotted the telling flicker.
Just one more piece of information to beat out of him.
“Do you want to do it or should I?” Zarja asked, her bloodied claws on display and ready for the next strike.
Katja cocked her head to the side, noting every cruel line of the vampire’s face as she listened to the wrath shifting inside her like molten lava. More than ever before, she understood Rose’s hatred for the warlocks who were her kin.
Somehow, the link made it personal, made every crime so much worse—and the desire to stop the scum a force that couldn’t be contained.
Kin. Her kin was doing this.
Slowly, Katja met Zarja’s gaze and said calmly, “I want to do it.”
The werewolf didn’t reply.
She merely wiped the blood off her hands, stepped aside, and let Katja unleash herself on the vampire.
The orange glow of the evening capped the looming rooftops and fell in playful streaks acros
s the ornate buildings. Under different circumstances, Evelin would have marveled at the sight of a waning day, but all she cared about now was getting through the city as fast as possible. She dipped into her preternatural speed whenever there were no witnesses in sight, reluctant to lose even a single second. Her blood was thrumming in her veins, the connections zinging through her mind until she thought she would go insane under the weight of the net her thoughts formed.
She tried convincing herself that she was jumping to conclusions—that the buyer’s name she had gleaned meant nothing when there was no other proof to support her suspicion. And yet there was a voice rooted deep inside her, speaking with such certainty, it sent shivers crawling down her spine.
The prominent position in society. The acquaintances it brought, not to mention the knowledge… It had to be.
For so long, she had yearned to make sense of Rose’s list, to link those ancient names to their modern aliases. But she had expected them to be like Vaclav, not…
A growl tore itself from her lips, and Evelin pushed harder down the heated pavement, taking as many shortcuts, as many back alleys Ljubljana could spew. Because she had to make sure—had to know if the horror of her thoughts was real.
The traffic and pedestrians receded once she neared the warehouse, the old-world elegance of Ljubljana giving way to rundown buildings and littered streets. She all but exploded through the doors once she reached the looming structure, the tang of blood growing with each long stride that took her closer to the three figures positioned at the very back.
Katja and Zarja were a blur of fangs, claws, and cold fury as they moved around the resilient vampire. Only Evelin didn’t have time to admire the impressive showing of utter strength and ruthlessness.
Her pack mate sensed her first, turning those brown-gold eyes on her. Evelin ignored the silent question in Zarja’s eyes, as well as her mind. She blocked the bond. The answers would be out in the open soon enough.
Without another second lost, she propelled herself towards the captive vamp, Katja instantly moving to the side to give her full access. Evelin snarled as she wrapped her clawed hand around the vampire’s neck, then angled his head up, forcing him to meet the hardness of her gaze.
Blood warmed her fingertips. “The Upirs you’re working with. One of them is Tater, isn’t he?”
The brief, almost invisible shadow that crossed the vampire’s eyes was answer enough. Evelin let her claws sink into the bastard’s flesh, the gargled sounds soothing the fire inside her.
But not the fear.
Chapter 11
The stone enclosure, tucked in a pocket of greenery and earth-hewn paths in the very heart of the city, was as peaceful as ever, maintaining the status of an oasis in the middle of Ljubljana’s busy streets. And much like all those times before that Rose had sought out its solitude, her mind was racing.
At least some things never change, she thought with the ghost of a bitter smile touching her lips.
Yet the circumstances, her reason for coming here today, were unlike ever before. She watched the smoke rise from the tip of her cigarette, eerily reminding her of what was to come.
Of what had to come.
She shuddered, chills with prickly, needle-sharp legs marching down her spine. Preparations or not, the decision to confront her father’s brethren hadn’t been an easy one. Yet as much as the in-depth knowledge of just what might happen, the possibility that she might fail, disturbed her, backing off was out of the question.
She took a long drag, letting the smoke fill her lungs. Her fingers trembled, ash drifting from the tip of her cigarette to flow freely on the hot currents slithering through the enclosure.
As if the stakes weren’t high enough, she had a strong suspicion her pack would skin her for keeping them out of the loop. If she came out of this victorious.
Divide and conquer, she reminded herself, although even her mental tones sounded unconvincing.
But the truth was, the pack had a hard enough time coming to terms with the police captain being a fucking Upir. And with the landslide of shit this revelation brought along, that was where their focus needed to be.
Regardless of how disturbing the news was, it was the first break they’d caught, and it brought them a little closer to understanding the mechanics behind the Upirs’ game. No wonder they had so easily slipped under the radar, if they had people with such influence in their midst. Just as it didn’t surprise her why the vampires’ crimes had gone unpunished for so long, the police throwing only a sample of them in jail while the rest did whatever the fuck they wanted didn’t either.
A breath that sounded suspiciously like a hiss left her lips.
One problem at a time. One damned problem at a time.
The soft scent of olives weaved through the serenity of the enclosure, hushing the cacophony of her thoughts. It wrapped around her body with its ethereal fingers and nestled her in a gentle bed of reassurance and love.
Rose peered to the side, taking in Veles’s lean figure as he materialized by the far wall. He wore dark jeans and a matching tee that only emphasized his appealing form, the fall of his pitch-black hair straight and silken, without a single strand out of place. Warmth pooled low in her stomach, washing away the trepidation that sought to take root.
She crushed the cigarette beneath her boot. “Is everything set?”
The god nodded. Rose strode over to him, her hands already wrapping around his lean waist, and wordlessly gave herself into the blanket of his scent.
Despite carrying enough weapons to fill a small armory, they fit together perfectly, two halves of a whole. There were still times when she found it hard to believe fate had led them to one another. Even more so that they had persevered—had come to share an unbreakable bond, defying the very laws of nature.
It was impossible for two deities to spend more than a short amount of time in each other’s proximity. Power, regardless of the individual or affection, didn’t suffer competition lightly. It was why Veles was looking into a safe place for Morana to stay once she regained her former strength.
And yet the two of them—they were destined to share their immortal lives with one another. Rose raised her gaze to the entrancing green of his. Her anchor. Her home.
They were consorts in the deepest, purest meaning of the word. And between them, there would never be a power struggle.
Yet for all the security and strength their bond offered, it was also the reason why all of this was that much harder.
She buried herself into his embrace once more and breathed in his warmth, the curling of his power, hoping this wasn’t the last time…
“I love you, srček.” Veles’s words came as a whisper, caressing her temple and fluttering her tightly braided hair.
She masked the tremors in her voice. “I love you, too, Veles.”
With her every breath. With the very essence of her being.
“It isn’t too late to change your mind, Rosalind. We can find another way to deal with the Vedmaks. Morana is gaining on power—I feel it every day, and I trust that you do too…”
She did, but she shook her head nonetheless, silencing any further words as their gazes met. “I need to do this. We’ve waited long enough. I’ve waited long enough. I can’t give them the chance to realize that the only way they’ll ever kill me is if they murder every last one of my pack…” Her voice broke, a rush of anger soaring through her body. “The plan stands as we’ve made it. My decision is final.”
Veles observed her for a moment, gaze heavy and searching, but eventually the god dipped his chin. His fingers trailed down the side of her face as he smiled, the expression so sincere, so warm, and just the right amount of mischievous that she laughed even before he managed to utter whatever remark lay on the tip of his tongue.
She kissed him lightly, then pulled away, doing her best to ignore the chilling sensation of a gap stretching between them. They would breach it once more. When the time came.
“You
do what you do best, Rosalind. And when you return”—he flashed her his fangs—“I don’t want to hear any excuses about just how beaten or worn you are. I will ravish you senseless, srček. And that is my final decision.”
She chuckled. “Despite having a house full of weres with exceptional hearing?”
“As things are looking at the moment, we’ll have the house to ourselves.” The hunger in his gaze flushed her skin. “Although I don’t believe your cries would escape them even if I transported your merry band of wolves half the world away.”
She shook her head and flattened her palm against the hard expanse of his chest. “You do know that I fully expect you to keep your word?”
“I always do, Rosalind. I always do.”
With that, he captured her lips with his, the kiss passionate, and carrying enough promises to fill up a human lifetime. Rose let the taste of him alleviate those final remnants of doubt that still lingered within her, and as her energy responded to his, she allowed it to flare. Veles broke away from the kiss, their gazes meeting one last time, then winked out of existence, the stone enclosure once more devoid of any life but her own.
As the halo of power burned ever brighter around her, she drew her sword. The blade reflected the brilliant light of the sun, the pure gold of her ethereal flames, making it appear as if the steel itself was aflame. It fit in the palm of her hand perfectly, as if she had been destined to wield it.
Not a gift. But an act of fate.
She rotated her wrists. Once. Twice.
And waited.
Long ago, the Vedmaks had been attuned to the gods, regardless of which deity their coven actively served. And they were still attuned to the magic embedded in the blood of their own kin, to the vibrations of the magic passed on from generation to generation.
Rose let the essence of both mix, the power she emanated becoming a blend of such potency, it surpassed anything she had tried before.
This was her. The real her.
Light and darkness. Divinity and mortality.
