by Anne Schlea
“We’ve been here.” Runa spots a pull off, a small parking lot part way up the mountain. She points. “Stop here.”
Kristoff glances at the clock in the SUV but says nothing. They’re early for Zartan’s meeting, so he can spare some time. He makes a right-hand turn and parks in one of the few spaces, Runa wondering how many suburban housewives get stuck in the tiny lot on a crowded Saturday afternoon. Too many large vehicles in this lot and no one’s getting out.
Jumping out of the car, Runa leads him down a well-cared for path that’s covered in recycled tires. The mountain rises up to her left and to her right, it drops off toward the creek below. She wonders as she walks why Kristoff brought her along. A meeting among the vampire leaders hardly seems like an appropriate place for a valkyrie.
She stops abruptly. The energetic residue she’d felt is nearby. She looks up the mountain to her left.
There it sits.
Wedged between rocks and tall trees is the decaying body of an old Ford pickup truck. The wooden slats that contained the bed have long since rotted away, but most of the body remains. She lets out a laugh and points toward it. “I told you we’ve been here before.”
Kristoff, his face drawn together in a frown as he tries to keep from getting dirt on his dress pants, moves his gaze to the direction she’s pointing. He lets out a bark of laughter. “It seems you’re right.”
She looks at him and sees the laughter dancing in his eyes, remembering that night on top of the mountain. He’d been so mad at her; she’d known he wouldn’t want to spend their precious time together chasing down shipments of illegal moonshine. That adventure had been all her idea and machinations. She grabs his hand. “Come on, the waterfall must be at the end of this path - it can’t be far.”
Mumbling complaints about ruining expensive business clothes, Kristoff allows her to pull him toward the rushing water that he can hear a short distance away.
They pass a couple, presumably returning from a hike, who look at them with interest. Runa’s sure they must look strange dressed in business clothes, herself in heels and a pencil skirt, making the trek down the path. Water runs off the mountain to her left in several places, creating tiny pools along the path where wildflowers bloom. They pass a woman in running clothes with her dog, a golden retriever panting in the summer heat. At a bench just before the falls, a grandfather sits with a toddler.
The trail suddenly opens up to a large wooden and metal bridge spanning the falls.
The waterfall is still at its fullest this early in the summer, driving gallons of water down a seven-hundred-foot drop to a pool at the bottom of the mountain. Above and below, the river rushes cold with the runoff of winter ice and higher elevations. Trout is abundant in this river.
Runa watches the water slice down through the exposed rock and feels the energy of the rushing waves slide through her. Hands tingling, she leans forward on the bridge and breathes deeply through her nose. She would love to drop her head back, kick off her shoes, and embrace the wild power of the waterfall; however, decorum and a pending meeting with the leaders of the vampire nation prevent her from doing so.
When she reaches up to brush a strand of hair from her face, she realizes Kristoff is watching her from a few steps away with a wistful expression on his face. “What?”
“I cannot think of another being on this planet that better defines wild, untapped energy than you.” He says quietly. “Watching you here, it makes me feel like, at any moment, you would disappear to become one with the rushing waters. It’s beautiful.”
“The power of the water calls to me.” She takes a deep breath and the scent of the water and springtime freshness of new growth fills her. Her sensitive ears pick up the sounds of life moving in the forest beyond the rushing water – hikers with their dogs travelling along well-worn paths, squirrels and rabbits moving among the fallen leaves, birds nesting in the trees above. As much as Runa loves the excitement of being in a city surrounded by constant movement and vigor, she misses the untapped energy of life in the wilderness. “Valkyrie all have a power to call, mine is water. To feel the power of the ocean or the rushing of the waterfall is soothing. It shares its strength with me.”
Startled at the words that had slipped out, she steps back from the bridge and fights to put the barrier back up between them. She’s said too much and is in danger of saying more. Reaching a hand toward him, she takes Kristoff’s hand in hers. He pulls her knuckles up to his mouth and gently kisses the top. “We should go.”
“I know.” Hand in hand, they silently walk the path back to the SUV. The silence is comfortable. “Tell me again why I’m here.”
“I didn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone in Atlanta with us all out here.” Kristoff is focused on the path in front of him, careful not to make eye contact. “Besides, I like it when you’re with me. I figured I’d take advantage as long as I could.”
“Afraid my sisters will keep me from you?” Runa forces the words to sound lighthearted like they’re meant in jest; there’s no reason for him to know how afraid she is of that very possibility, but Kristoff’s grip on her hand tightens. “Once this is all over?”
“Terrified.” He looks over at her with shielded eyes. “Truthfully.”
The Ford pickup bounces along the gravel road with frustratingly little speed. Thankfully, it’s a new moon tonight, and Kristoff hopes the lack of light will keep their ascent up the mountain hidden from the view of the humans pursuing them. Somewhere below, Prohibition agents are searching the road signs of where they’ve gone. It’s unlikely they’ll think to check the dirt and gravel road leading up the side of the mountain.
“Do you see anything?” He glances over his shoulder, half expecting to see a car coming up behind them. Damn this truck, it would go faster if he’d get out and push.
“Nope.” Runa doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that the agents are after them. They could be headed up the road for a picnic for all the worry she’s showing. Her hair bounces in the dark, he eyes scanning the trees passing by. “They’re still down on the main road, probably trying to figure out if we ditched near the river.”
“We should have stayed in Chicago.” The truck gives a lurch as it rolls over a deep gully in the road. “Or better, we should have met in Paris. What’s wrong with Paris? It’s civilized, there are nice hotels, liquor hasn’t been outlawed…”
“Civilized and boring!” She flops back in the seat and stretches her legs out as far as they can go in the small space. Her skirt rides up her leg, flashing a glimpse of garter. Catching his eyes on her, she smiles and tugs the material back down to her knees. “I see you looking.”
“You can’t expect me not to.” He smiles, shifting gears to slow and stop. He jumps out of the truck and leaves the door open. His vampire eyesight had allowed them to drive up the narrow road without the assistance of lights. Hopefully, that will keep the authorities from considering the narrow mountain road as a possible escape route. Kristoff isn’t sure how the next part of their plan will go but he doesn’t want to kill any humans unnecessarily.
That kind of crazy action tends to draw unnecessary attention. They might be disguised as a couple of moonshine running bootleggers, but that still is no reason to kill someone just for doing their job. The insanity of Prohibition will pass one day, and these men will return to normal jobs. Or at least, that’s what Kristoff hopes.
“Look at those stars.” Runa closes the door of the truck behind her. Staring up into the sky, she spins in a circle. “You won’t see that in Paris. Too many lights.”
He steps behind her and pulls her back against his chest. Resting his head lightly against hers, he looks up at the same stars. He can’t argue. It’s beautiful up here on the top of some Georgia mountain miles, from anywhere. The river, small though it may be, is meandering by a few feet away, unaware of the plummeting drop at the edge of the mountain. From here, it will cascade through broken rocks and twisted trees until it reaches the bottom.
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“They probably won’t find us up here, not for a while.” Kristoff’s nose turns toward Runa, breathing in the smell that makes him think of her. Ice, wind, and the fury of the valkyrie. Most creatures smell like spices or flowers, but not his Runa. She smells like the great white north, birthplace of Frejya, goddess of the valkyrie. He places a kiss behind her ear. “We should take advantage.”
“Oh, now you think this is fun?” He can hear the half smile on her lips. She pulls away from him and turns to face him. With a raised eyebrow, she kicks off her shoes and reaches behind to undo the stays holding her skirt. It drops to the ground, a pool gray in the soft light put off by the stars to give Kristoff a better view of the black silk garters holding up her stockings. “What if the agents come up the mountain?”
“As much as I hate killing humans, I will make exceptions if necessary.” Kristoff stalks toward her, watching her shirt drift helplessly to the ground. Standing in her stockings and a thin chemise, she doesn’t try to get away. “The bullets will hurt, but not kill me.”
She smiles, looking at him through lowered eyelashes. When he reaches her, she jumps into the air, trusting him to catch her so she can wrap her legs around his waist. “Well, then. Let’s make the most of our time before they find us.”
Sometime later, Kristoff straightens his shirt and looks out over the top of the waterfall toward the road below. His dress clothes are stored in a bag slung over his shoulder, he now looks like any local farmer in overalls and a worn work shirt. Still no lights approaching up the steep incline. It’s possible the agents gave up and have gone home. It’s more likely they’re now going house to house, waking the locals in their search for the truck and the two foreign bootleggers.
What they don’t know is that the truck is a decoy. The Kissel is parked safely a few miles away, waiting for their return. The moonshine, as it were, has been sent forward and waits for them south of Atlanta near Macon where they’ll pick it up to take to the coast.
Kristoff and Runa’s flight with the truck is meant to throw the agents off the scent of the actual truck containing the illegal liquor. The driver, a vampire who Kristoff marginally trusts, will be paid handsomely at the end of the trip – once the moonshine is loaded onto the freighter in Savannah and Kristoff is safely away from Prohibition agents.
With a smile, Kristoff has to admit Runa has made this rendezvous interesting. He might grumble about her adventures, or misadventures as they often can be, but life with Runa in it is never dull and he always returns to Russia with a smile and a renewed energy.
He turns and looks her over with a critical eye. Her clothes are now changed, and she looks like a young farmhand in pants, shirt, and a hat. Her heels have been switched out for work boots; extra clothes stowed in a bag thrown over her shoulder.
The slight flush of her cheeks gives him pause to wonder how much time they have until the agents find this road. He pushes the thought away. Hopefully there will be time for a hotel and a warm bath at their next stop. “Are you ready?”
“Of course.” She smiles, turns, and points. “That direction. Once the truck is taken care of, we’ll cut that way across the mountain. We should get to the car before sunup and we’ll be on our way, a few more hours south and we’ll be in Macon to rendezvous with the shipment.”
“Let’s get it done, then.” Kristoff slides partway back into the truck to release the brake. It takes very little effort to give it enough of a push to start rolling downhill. He gives it as much extra speed as he thinks is necessary and stops only at the last moment before it careens off the side of the mountain.
The truck flips in the air, knocking down small trees and bouncing like a child’s toy, ripping the silence of night apart with the sound of tearing metal. When it finally comes to a resting spot, wedged between a tree and a large rock, it shudders to stillness.
Runa raises an arm to send bolts of electricity toward the metal vehicle, igniting the gas cans that Kristoff had left inside the cab. In moments, it explodes in a ball of fire and fury.
“If the noise didn’t alert the agents, that fire will.” Kristoff takes a moment to appreciate the beauty of the destruction before he turns to Runa. “It will be hours before they realize we weren’t inside and then they’ll waste time searching the surrounding mountains.”
“Not bad for a little mischief.” Her grin turns into a laugh. She takes a deep breath of the mountain air and then looks at him. “Ready?”
“Lead on.” He gestures in the direction Runa indicated a moment before. While he’s sure he can find his way back to the car just fine without her, he wants to give her the job of leading them. There’s nothing wrong watching her walk in front of him.
With a swing of her hips, Runa disappears into the tree line, Kristoff at her heels.
It’s still daylight when Kristoff, with Runa close behind, emerges from the lodge at the top of the falls. The vampire summit, which should have lasted well into the night, is already over. Only Marcus, the keeper of America’s west coast, had shown. After a few phone calls, emails, and a little coercing, Zartan was able to not only find Marcus, but convince him to come east and join their meeting. Kristoff didn’t have as much luck with his contacts.
While still a majority of the were clans present, it left a lot of land and power unwilling to meet Zartan’s move to re-form the Council.
Runa frowns. When a meeting of the valkyrie nation is called, you come. To not attend is death. How has the vampire nation fallen to the point of such disregard? When did the clans stop caring about what was happening in the rest of the world?
“Arrogance.” Kristoff is muttering something in front of her. She speeds her strides to catch up in the high heels she’d decided to wear. “They’re arrogant. They think the nosferatu problem is only here, a problem for Zartan’s territory and no others. They don’t understand that if the nosferatu win here, they’ll be coming for them next.”
“At least Marcus is here.” She steps next to him and stops his retreat from the lodge with a hand on Kristoff’s arm. “You can unify North America at the least, all the way to the Panama Canal. And most of Europe. It’s a start.”
“It’s a start, but that leaves a whole lot of space left where the nosferatu can still go hide.” He puts his hands on his hips and curses. “Even if we drive them away from here, I’ve seen what they’re doing. It isn’t going to stop. They’ll pick up and move, find somewhere quiet, and keep…experimenting. We’re no closer to figuring out what the end game is than we were months ago.”
“The other vampire clans don’t know what we’ve been through here.” She takes a breath and reaches out to touch Kristoff lightly on the cheek. He’s used to being listened to. A respected warlord, it’s been a very long time since his suggestions haven’t immediately been followed. Usually, he says jump and everyone else in the room is in the air before they ask how high.
For Runa, living in the twisted world of the valkyrie, negotiations and manipulations are the milk their children are weaned on. Every action has a consequence. Every agreement comes at a price.
Kristoff will have to learn how to negotiate better if he’s going to help unite the clans.
Past Kristoff’s shoulder, Runa can see Zartan and Antonia arguing. Frustration runs abundant and threaten to crack the unspoken alliances they’ve all been living with.
They all thought this would be easy, but Runa knew it wouldn’t be. Almost a hundred years of the clans operating alone is hard to change. To reunite under one banner threatens the power some believe their clan holds; vampire leaders are notorious for wanting control and influence. It will take time and a level head to re-invent their world.
On the far side of the parking lot, Runa notices Dinah getting into her car alone and Joseph is nowhere in sight. A strange shiver runs down Runa’s back, it’s a message. With sudden wash of dread, Runa pushes past Kristoff to run toward Dinah, her mouth open and screaming.
The world around her erupts in a shockwav
e as the car bomb detonates.
Runa is thrown backward, colliding with Kristoff and knocking him off his feet. Her ears ringing, she can’t hear but can see his mouth moving, gasping, his face white.
Beyond him, Zartan is already on his feet. He’s trying to get to the car, to get to his mother trapped inside. Antonia and Marcus seem to materialize out of thin air to hold Zartan back. It takes both of them to hold the angry vampire.
No. Not angry, but grief-stricken.
Parts of the destroyed vehicle rain down around them, falling on cars and pavement like hail. Runa feels the ripple of energy from the bomb moving away from them and weakening. So much power packed into one tiny space, she didn’t feel it until after it had been triggered. How could she have missed it?
Kristoff hands are suddenly on Runa’s face, he’s forcing her to look at him, his lips are moving but she still can’t hear over the ringing in her ears. He, at least, looks okay. She’d absorbed as much of the energy of the blast as she could, shielding him with her own body. His hand run over her arms and legs; he’s checking to see if she’s hurt. Of course, she could have been hit by shrapnel.
“I’m okay.” She murmurs the words, knowing them to be a lie. Shock and energy are rushing through Runa’s body. Dinah is her friend. Dinah is dead. She might not be okay again for a long time. “Go help Zartan.”
Valkyrie don’t have a familial structure - vampires do. Dinah is Zartan’s mother and Antonia’s adopted mother. How Antonia is keeping it together enough to prevent Zartan from running into the burning vehicle is beyond Runa’s comprehension. Terrin changed Antonia, but Dinah raised her. She helped her through the Becoming, guided her as a woman in a world ruled by men, and held her accountable when Antonia stepped out of line.
And now, Dinah’s body lay burning in a car a few yards away.
Antonia must be the strongest female Runa has ever met.
Runa can hear footsteps rushing this direction in the distance. Humans, workers and guests of the lodge, are coming. A car bomb is going to be impossible to explain away. Someone needs to do something to stop them from seeing. She pushes herself up onto her knees. Kristoff is still talking, saying words she can’t hear, pushing her back toward the ground.
