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Nightfire Part Fourteen
"Luna, they made a mess of
her," Iry Lupine drawled, his eyes bright with morbid curiosity.
Ria glanced at him. "State the
obvious, why don't you?"
For the first time in months,
she felt like herself. Here, with this pale-faced friend who needed her aid
more than anyone ever had, who said not a word and yet taught Ria a firm, and
shocking lesson. That the span between life and death was short. Too short.
But she was worried. Very
worried. Toya had lost too much blood...already she was unconscious, and if she
didn't get healed fast, she would slip into the deepest, darkness sleep of all
with scarcely the catch of a breath.
I will *not* let that happen,
Ria thought.
She remembered another time
when she had been helpless; when she had first come here, dragged along by her
sister Bliss, who had been an extremely professional assassin, mostly because
no one suspected that a voluptuous witch girl and her shy, frightened sister
could be out to kill anyone.
Bliss had tried to kill Jepar,
and most of Circle Strange...and Ria had befriended them. It was how she had
met Cougar, how she had discovered this incredible link that brought such wild
joy and such stunning pain. It was the first time she had stood up to Bliss, to
anyone...it hadn't worked.
Not on her own. Alone, she had
been nothing. But...with someone else, that dark-haired someone with spitting
fiery eyes, there had been strength to survive.
She needed help. And there was
only one person she could reach when she was this far from town.
Her thoughts winged out, clean
and arcing as a javelin. ~ Cougar? ~
A flare of hope, mandarin-tangy.
~ Ria? ~ She felt his mind then, the
smouldering orange cinder that brimmed with fire and emotion, but now it seemed
to burn out as he remembered, and his tones became guarded, a trifle sullen. ~
What do you want? ~
~ Help, ~ she said bluntly.
A snort. ~ Why the hell should
I help you? Me, with all my secrets and my pride? ~
Had she really said such
hurtful, terrible things? Her turquoise eyes narrowed. Yes. To hide all the
hurt and terror in her own heart. ~ I need you, ~ she said very softly. ~
Please, Toya's been hurt. She needs blood. ~
~ She's hurt? ~ Alarm leaping.
~ Where are you...wait, show me. It'll be faster. ~
She knew what he meant; open
her mind, let him simply take the knowledge. Ria stared into space for a
moment, her face pensive. Iry, watching her, thought she might have been an elf
stepped from a fairy tale with that delicate bone-structure and her tumble of
strawberry-blond hair, fine as cornsilk.
No. This was Toya's life. Who
gave a damn about prudence...Ria wouldn't play about.
~ All right. ~ She closed her
eyes, took a deep breath and let down the spiky shields that had guarded her
mind so long. It felt strange, vulnerable.
There was a pause, like the
deadly silence before both sides charged in a battle, and then she felt his
mind-touch, a tense, dark shadow, like fire locked under jet. The pull of the
link was almost overwhelming, but both ignored it...yet still, flashes from his
mind glittered in her head like pieces of a glass jigsaw.
Herself, the way he had first
seen her, a thin pale thing with fear in her eyes and a walk that was almost a
half-run. A shadow of her sister, a shadow even of herself.
Flash. Another girl with the
same raw fear in her eyes, curled on the ground...Jal.
~ What's happened? ~ she
demanded. The girl she had spoken to had seemed so strong, if unsure. ~ Why's
Jal crying? ~
~ PMT? ~ suggested Cougar, a
sardonic edge to his voice. ~ Pre-moon tension? I don't know, how the hell
should I? ~
Her temper leapt immediately.
Gods, how could she miss him so much when he wasn't there and *loathe* him so
much when he was? ~ Can't you give a straight answer? ~
~ You walked out because I
couldn't, remember? ~ he shot back viciously.
This is *insane*, Ria thought.
Toya's hurt and we're *arguing*. She rubbed her forehead. ~ No...oh, look, do
you know where we are? ~
The anger drained away, leaving
that dull-black ashen sense again. ~ Yeah. I'll be there in a few minutes. ~
* * * *
Zara Carmillen unrolled another
scroll carefully, trying not to break the brittle parchment. Two days, two
dusty, dull days and they had found nothing.
"I can't believe you meant an
actual vault," she said sourly into the focused silence. She threw her head
forward, hands raking through her bouncy raven hair to try and shift some of
the grey dust lodged there.
Her fiancé looked up from where
he was sitting against a wall. "What did you think I meant?" he inquired
smoothly, the slight accent in his words – she wouldn't have noticed it if she
hadn't been so closely bound to him – sounding on the consonants.
Zara looked around, blinking
her eyes irritably. The place was a simple room, made from dark grey stone and
not much bigger than a tennis court. The problem was that there were shelves
and shelves of books, boxes, scraps of paper, paintings coiled into tight
rolls...it was a nightmare.
"You could at least have tidied
it," she said wearily. She had to stand on boxes and crates to reach some of
the ledges. At a petite just-over five feet, she still couldn't get down some
of the scrolls on the highest shelves. It made finding anything relating to Jal
damn near impossible. "You've been alive six thousand years. You can't tell me
you never had time to pick up a duster."
"I don't dust."
She eyed his face. He could
have been a model for Calvin Klein, with those endlessly dark eyes, that if you
cared to look closely, seemed to hold the miniature perfection of stars and
galaxies whirling in their depths, and the perfect, sensual mouth. Only models
didn't tend to have streaks of soot running down the side of their face.
"I can see that," she told him fondly, and reached up to get another
box, hands scrabbling to get a grip. "Why don't you let anyone else in here?"
He glanced up, his hair
catching red highlights from the fluorescent lighting. "These organisations
have a strong belief in secrecy." Dark put the scroll he was scanning onto the
pile beside him and hauled down the box she was so futilely trying for, handing
it to her. "Mienne, if they knew *I* knew about them, they'd kill me. They'd
kill anyone they thought knew. Those of us who do...well, we pretend that we've
never heard of them. Even Circle Daybreak holds their peace about them. It's
easy for me to keep this quiet...it'd be a lot harder for some of my
researchers."
Zara snorted. "Like they could
kill you."
But she was startled to see his
face solemn, a tiny fractional shake of his head. "If they wanted to, they
could. They're more dangerous than I am by far."
"But..." she began. The words
died on her lips as he telepathically showed her some of what he knew.
Fragments of whispered stories, bits and pieces he had put together. One
Nightfire agent he had eavesdropped on...and nearly died for that.
"I'd only kill someone," he
said softly. "But mienne, they'd take your soul and leave the rest of you to
mourn its loss forever."
She stared at him. She had
thought Darkstar was the most dangerous person she would ever meet; a Night
Lord, head of Nightpeople who worked for profit and to keep the secret of the
Nightworld safe, he had nearly killed her because he thought she had
information. Things had changed...he had changed her into a vampire, but still,
she knew that the side of him she saw was not what the world saw.
But it seemed there was
something even he feared. And that terrified her.
"Then we'd best find out what
Jallakri has to do with them," she said grimly.
Then she realised his
expression had changed. Recognition, as he stared at the box she was holding.
Not a crate, she realised, but a box, carven from some dark wood and covered in
ornate carvings. He arms were at full stretch just to grip the corners tightly
– only her vampiric strength kept it from falling.
"That's it," he said almost
reverently. "It's in there...I bought on the black market a long time ago, when
I was trying to find out about Nightfire."
She set it down. It had no
opening she could see, no lock, nothing but those carvings that seemed to be
men and women screaming, and runes etched into the varnished surface.
Dark leaned forward, tapped the
carvings in several places. There was a faint click, and then the top sprung
open.
And inside, vivid as the day it
was created, lay a painting, a painting of a fierce girl with crystal-pale
green eyes and golden hair marred only by a striking scarlet streak. A girl
with her mouth ringed in blood, and her head tilted regally.
Jallakri ap Ganra.
* * * *
"*How dare you*?" Donna Ares
screamed. The werewolf leader's artful face was flushed, her hands hooked as if
she wanted to tear at Jal's eyes.
~ Jal okay? ~ the warm voice of
Jepar murmured. Cern glanced over at his shapeshifter friend and shook his head
grimly – Cougar, he noticed, had disappeared. The Redfern was like the cat who
walked alone; he suffered no human bindings.
Gods, what had they done to
Jal?
She was curled into a tight
little knot beside him, rocking slightly – he suspected to stop herself from
crying or showing any sign of weakness. But the fragility was all there in the
tortured reaches of her eyes, and his heart went out to her. The tears still
fell, the swift and silent tears of those who knew that to cry out was to
invite only deeper pain.
~ Can you deal with Donna? ~ he
asked the cheetah 'shifter, The exchange took a scant instant, while he debated
how – and if – he could help Jal. Tentatively, he reached out.
She gasped and flinched back,
her face frighteningly blank.
~ It's me, ~ he whispered. ~
Jal, you're hurt. ~
She froze and watched him,
still weeping without emotion or sound. It worried him; no effort to stop the
tears, as though some part of her had already admitted defeat. He traced the
air above one of the cuts on her arms, and she didn't flinch away – though he
could tell she had to force herself not to – but simply gazed at him.
~ It was them. ~ The bleak
whisper was like the scrape of knives on his senses. So raw...didn't the Pack
have any sense of honour? ~ They...pulled me out of the pit. They said I was
trespassing. Then they... ~ Her face
was floury with shock. Disbelief rang in her voice. ~ They tortured me. ~
Cern hid his anger – it wasn't
what she needed right now. ~ You couldn't have known...I'm sorry. I should have
warned you. ~
~ I was scared. ~ She bit her
lip. He knew the gesture well, trying to hold back pain that threatened to
overwhelm you in its despairing intensity. ~ I was alone. ~
~ You weren't, ~ he said
softly. ~ You're never alone now, Jal, not truly. ~
For the first time, the
frosted-green eyes lifted to his, hesitant. ~ I don't understand. ~
~ I'm here, ~ he said simply,
letting the truth ring his voice and his face. ~ All you have to do is
call...distance isn't anything to the soul. ~ She had to understand she *could*
trust him. And perhaps for the first time, Cern was surprised to find he could
give her that small part of himself without any sense of fear or loss. ~ I'm
only a thought away. ~
Silence, as she searched his
face with a concentration that made him uneasy. Her stare was bladed as a
hawk's, seeming to look into the depths of who he was and drag out all the
uncomfortable truths he had been hiding in his life.
Then she moved in a flurry of
grace, all gold and dirt, and hugged him tightly, burying her head into his
shoulder. Her body was a warm mass, and her hands tangled in his hair...and he
didn't mind. There was something there, he thought, which hadn't been there
before. And he thought perhaps he knew what it was.
Trust. Truly that simple.
~ It's okay, ~ he told her,
smiling though she couldn't see it. Because...she made him happy. To see that
he could have that effect on someone, it was a feeling beyond description. The
drop on the biggest rollercoaster in the world, the first breath of summer. ~
It's okay now. ~
~ I know it is, ~ she answered.
Her mind was a bright tangle of threads, every colour of the rainbow. Jal
lifted her head to look at him, her face perplexed. ~ It...really is, isn't it?
~ One blink, one inhalation. Her voice was slow, wondrous. ~ It's never been
okay before. I think... ~ She paused, and then smiled, rare and delightful as a
rainbow in winter.
~ I think I'm happy. ~
It was at that moment Jepar's
slightly amused voice slanted into their heads. ~ Uh...guys...I know you're in
the middle of a tender reconciliation and all...but I am up to my ass in
werewolves. ~
He dragged his stare away and
realised Jepar wasn't kidding. The blond shapeshifter was in the middle of the
entire Pack, and just about holding his own, but not for much longer. Anyone
would have been hard pushed to fight off twenty enraged wolves, and Jepar was fast running out of manoeuvring
space. A wolf had a fairly firm stranglehold on the boy's neck, and as far as
Cern knew, Jepar wasn't too good at rising from the dead.
~ Couldn't have some help,
could I? ~
* * * *
"Hell," was Cougar's laconic
comment as he strode in. His eyes avoided Ria, and she wasn't sure whether to
be glad or annoyed. "What did that?"
"That blue-haired kid," Iry
drawled. "That one that's your half-brother."
Cougar closed his eyes briefly and
swore.
"He's your what?" Ria said
before she could stop herself, then shook her head. "No, I don't want to know.
It can wait."
Iry glanced at her. ~ Do you always get an attitude when Redfern
appears? ~
She didn't deign to answer,
instead watching anxiously as with his usual unflappability, Cougar took a look
at the gash on Chatoya's wrist, kneeling down. "You've not healed this?"
"I figured you might want to
donate some blood," she answered, bridling at the implied criticism.
The golden eyes were a brief
lance to her. "Only asking." Her tall soulmate drew out a knife (he always
seemed to carry one, through sheer paranoia more than anything else) and opened
a long cut on Chatoya's arm, joining it to the original that Blue had made. Ria
knew why; so more of the vampire blood would go in. It seemed to cling to human
flesh once it was there, and to be absorbed into the bloodstream easily.
He opened a parallel gash in his wrist. Ria saw him wince slightly as
he did, and despite her anger at him right now, it stung her a little too.
She didn't even know why she
was so angry. He hadn't done anything, yet whenever she saw him, she just felt
furious. And when he wasn't she felt miserable. I'm like some sort of addict,
she thought. And I have got to get over this.
"How much blood did she lose?"
he muttered a few minutes later. Ria saw him shiver briefly, and realised he
had gone even paler than usual, as though his skin had been bleached. He's
losing too much, a panicky voice thought. He may be a vampire, but even they
need their blood.
"A lot." She moved like a ghost
to hunker down by him, and when he shivered again, laid a hand on his shoulder.
She felt every muscle tense. That hurt...but she deserved it, she supposed.
Maybe it was time she took responsibility for what had gone wrong between them.
"Are you okay?"
He stilled. "Fine." Terse
voice. "Damn." His arm had healed, and he cut it again. This time, the flinch
was more pronounced. He was weakening, she knew, and he was so damn stubborn he
wouldn't give up until he was sure Chatoya would be all right.
She considered for a moment...how to help him? Her blood was no use,
but perhaps her strength *was*.
Ria quietly began to pour some of her magic into him, a warm turquoise
stream flowing from her hand into his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" He
twisted his head, fiery eyes scorching into her. So proud, she thought, with
the dour curve of that mouth, and yet striking.
"Hush," she told him. "I'm
helping."
"I don't need help."
Ria half-smiled. How often had
she heard that. "Liar."
He had stopped shivering.
Good...she increased the magical energy gushing into her dark-haired soulmate,
watched his face, fixed in meditation. She had spent a lot of time watching
him, what seemed like forever and a day ago. Loving his beauty and his tigerish
grace, wishing she had even a fraction of that.
Both saw the first faint tinge
of colour return to Chatoya's face, a speckle of coral flecks.
Cougar waited until his wrist
healed again then sat back. Ria almost missed his soft, "Well, I have to lie
around you. You wouldn't want the truth."
The bitterness in his voice
shocked her.
It made anger leap in her,
wounded pride. No, she thought, turquoise eyes stern. Stop. Think about what
you say. Don't let your heart rule you, because your heart is a fickle thing.
"I know," she said finally. His
head snapped around. "I think...maybe I ask too much of you." She forced her
lips into a smile. "I guess you need your secrets."
The animosity seeped away, leaving
him that singular, quiet person she seldom saw. "I do."
There was an awkward silence.
Iry, Ria realised, had long gone. He didn't like to wait around; the lone wolf
always had a hunt of his own.
"Blue did this." Cougar's voice
startled her. There was the same darkness in it, yet a terrible sorrow too. "He
came here three years ago, before anyone was here except me, Jepar, Toya and
Lisa. And another girl." He paused. "Sonj."
"I've never heard of her," Ria
whispered. She barely dared speak. Cougar had never shared anything with her
about his family.
He plucked at the grass,
shredding blades to pieces. "She was...a friend. Maybe more. I don't know. But
Blue killed her. He's killed so many people, Ria." His voice was tired, regret
soaking to its depths. "I used to count, you know, and I'd remember every name
and I'd swear that I'd kill him for it. But one day...I just lost count. It
wasn't long ago, just before I came here. But Sonj...she's the one I remember.
Because all the others were just blood. But Sonj was family."
His golden eyes had dimmed to a
lost hazel. *Oh*, Ria thought. *Oh,* you should have told me.
"Why didn't you ever say
anything?" she asked, tilting her head on one side. She didn't know it, but her
face had that odd wistful tenderness that had inspired such sympathy in Jal.
"It hurt." He shrugged. His
eyes were fixed on the ground. "I thought if you knew that he was like that,
you might think I..." Cougar swallowed. "I was like that once. I used to love
hurting people. And I came here and things changed. But I still wake up, and
every morning I know that I could be like him if I wanted to. And I'm just
scared that one day, I'll wake up and I *will* be that way."
"But can't you see the
difference?" she said, disbelieving. No, she realised, looking at his face, he
couldn't. "You choose not to be like that. That's what makes you different from
him."
The hazel eyes flared into
golden life, brighter than the sun above. He hesitated for a moment then said,
almost shyly, "Thanks."
It wasn't a perfect, passionate
reunion. It wasn't even really a ceasefire. It was just a little bit of
understanding.
But, Ria thought, everything
had to start somewhere, and felt her heart lift.
Chatoya moaned faintly, and as
Ria's eyes flicked to her, the witch sat up unsteadily, her eyes dazed. "Oh
goddess, what happened to me?" she muttered, then she shook her head. The
mossy-green stare focused on the pair of them and Chatoya looked from one to
the other. "I feel like death warmed up."
"Strange coincidence," Cougar
said dryly.
She looked from one to the
other, alertness creeping into her face. "Has something happened?"
Yes, Ria thought quietly,
something has. Something more and less than anyone will ever know.
* * * *
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