No Rest for the Wicked

33

Kaderin strode down the street, barely after dawn, having just left the beautiful passed-out vampire—and the box—behind.

She'd vacillated for an hour about whether to claim the points or not. In the end she couldn't do it, though she'd gotten as far as lifting the box to just below her heart. She supposed that part of her anatomy had been as affected as all the rest of her after last night.

Although she needed to get to the jetport to be ready for the next update of the scroll, she kept hesitating, distracted, replaying scenes from last night.

After he'd reached his end, he had continued to thrust so gently, rocking over her in the dark, brushing his lips over her face. She'd known he wanted to have her again, but he'd been very pale. When his body had begun shaking, she'd suspected he hadn't been drinking regularly. He had finally rolled over to his back, drawing her to his chest with the crook of his arm.

Now that she and Sebastian had made love, everything felt different to her. This morning, she was seeing things in ways she couldn't remember. Spring always imbued London with miraculous colors and scents, but she couldn't recall the last time she'd noticed.

She'd watched this city grow from a soggy camp to a grand metropolis. The thought made her pause. She was old. And last night also had brought into glaring relief how dissatisfied she was with her life overall. Of course, she missed her sisters, but she fully expected to retrieve them, even if she died.

Kaderin believed that sacrifice could bring them back. How many fables—which were ninety-nine percent true—told of a warrior given a chance to make up for a grievous lack of judgment? Atonement had to be Kaderin's ultimate fate. If she was to die, surely it wouldn't be for nothing? Sacrifice could restore her sisters to life, and as far as destinies went, she was honored by hers.

And besides, did she want to live forever? She had!

Before last night, she couldn't bestir herself truly to dread her upcoming death. Now, she wondered if it would be painful, and if Sebastian would be near.

She'd called Nïx on her jimmied non-traceable phone to get a premonition-of-doom update. She had imagined what she would say: "Hey, Nïxie! Uh, I remember you telling me that I, uh, was going to die and all that." Nervous laugh. "Well, did you see anything about a remarkably virile and sexy vampire coming with me for moral support?" But it had been late at night in New Orleans, and Nïx had most likely been out roaming the streets. Without answers, Kaderin could only speculate.

There were only so many ways a Valkyrie could die—beheading, sorrow, immolation, or some kind of mystical assassination. Beheading seemed likeliest.

A violent death. Kaderin had contemplated cheerier scenarios...

As she smelled the cherry blossoms, she thought of the violence she had meted out over her long life, culminating in the minefield carnage last night. She recalled Bowen yearning for his lost mate, half of his head blown off and still crawling for the box. She thought Cindey had mumbled something about a baby.

Kaderin's eyes watered, and she stumbled into someone on the street. When she glanced up again, there right before her was a butcher shop.

She bit her bottom lip, recalling Sebastian's pale face. Did she dare take him blood? She looked around guiltily, as if others could hear her thoughts.

This was a step she'd never even contemplated. She wasn't merely not going to kill the vampire, nor was she simply allowing him to live. She was considering making a vampire more comfortable after the cataclysmic sex they'd just had. She gave an amazed chuckle. How far the mighty have fallen.

Kaderin found herself entering the shop, swept up in the foreign smell of meat. She asked for her order, and without a raised brow—this was London, after all—she received a plastic container in a brown paper bag. She fished for sterling and pence from her jacket pocket, then hurried from the shop with her purchase.

Here she was late for the airport, and all she could think about was that she'd left him hungry. This was so... so domestic, and it was utterly exciting for her. As it had been with him on the plane that morning while they were dressing. Just before he told me he was going to marry me.

Back at the flat, she noticed she kind of liked seeing his things with hers. Gone was the irritation at the fact that he'd simply moved in with her. Now she suddenly wanted their belongings to be together. She wanted their things intermingled.

She stowed the blood in the refrigerator and was immediately glad she'd brought it, because, though he seemed to have moved in, he had none on tap.

After making her way to the bedroom, she crossed to the bed. She brushed his hair from his forehead and pulled the cover over him. Tenderness. I like this feeling. Quickly becoming one of my favorites. Before she left the room again, she secured a blanket over the drapes as an additional safeguard against the sun.

Take away the fact that he was a vampire. Could she ever have a life with him? She overlooked Emma's vampirism and loved her.

But it didn't matter if Kaderin could accept him. Her sisters wouldn't be able to—even if she somehow would meet Sebastian in the changed reality, which she knew was impossible, even if she lived.

If she lived, she'd have saved Dasha and Rika. Saving their lives would change history...

She'd thought about carrying a letter back for herself when she retrieved her sisters. But she knew how these conundrums typically worked. If she wrote a letter, telling herself to go to the Russian castle and fall for a sad-eyed, achingly gorgeous vampire, her past self wouldn't even recognize her changed handwriting. She'd think it was a trick by vampires, and she'd go there to kill him. Or someone in her coven would find the letter and go with the same intent.

And yet, even knowing how unattainable a future was with him, before she left once more, she jotted a quick note for him.

And mentally tallied one for herself: Idiot, sucker, fool. Mysty the Vampire Layer? She's got nothing on me.

She wasn't in the bed with him when he awoke that afternoon.

Sebastian sat up, wanting to find her, but instantly fell back, arms and legs deadened with fatigue and splayed across the bed.

Staring at the ceiling, he tried to sort through what had happened.

He'd spoken in Estonian and she'd responded in kind. He grated a curse. The things he'd said... He groaned, throwing an arm over his face.

But he'd been out of his mind. And what man wouldn't be while experiencing the act for the first time—and in such a manner? Much less knowing she was enjoying it.

And then... sinking inside her.

The most incredible experience in his entire life.

He ran his fingers through his hair as reality set in. With Kaderin, he might never experience any of it again. He wanted a loyal bond between the two of them; she'd already left without a word. This was only physical for her, like the quick release she'd craved in the cave, when he'd wanted to touch her for hours. His heart sank as he realized nothing had changed between them, just as she'd warned him before he'd taken her. And the last time they'd spoken of the future, he'd vowed that he wouldn't be in hers—

He glanced up, spying a note on the bedside table. He snatched it like a drowning man cast a lifeline.

There's blood in the refrigerator. Will be in sun today, so call me when you wake up—I put my number in your phone.

xoxo Kaderin.

His jaw slackened. Though the letter was short, he found himself rereading it. It was like a note a wife would leave for her husband, and so he couldn't wrap his mind around it. They'd resolved nothing last night and still had the same angers between them.

Is she playing with me? Is this some sort of cruel jest? Do I have a phone?

Confounded, he scuffed naked into the kitchen to the refrigerator, taking a deep breath as he grasped the handle. There, the only thing inside—a plain paper bag.

She'd brought him blood. Why would she do this? Is it poisoned? He took the bag out and tossed it onto the counter, but as he turned, he saw the box from the minefield. She'd left it.

He shut the refrigerator door and repeatedly knocked his head against it.

Congo River Basin,

Democratic Republic of Congo

Day 25

Prize: One jade jaguar pentacle, altar tool for demonolatry, worth thirteen points

When Sebastian traced to her and found himself in a sweltering brush, he recognized which prize Kaderin had chosen.

She had navigated the jungle—the equatorial jungle—from the low lying riverside to these highlands of the Virunga Massif. Nearby was a pounding waterfall, and beside it lay an ancient grave. The prize was buried there in the rich, dark earth.

Though the canopy was dense, he was still burning, avoiding shafts of light as though they were spears raining down. But it didn't matter, he had to do anything possible to help her... since she'd given up the box.

He carried it in his jacket pocket and ran his finger over it, wishing the prize weren't expired.

Was he pleased that she didn't want that between them? Without question. But now, all he could think about was the incredible number of points she'd sacrificed toward a win that she'd obviously kill for.

Where the hell is she? He couldn't spy her out through the thick growth and the waterfall's mist, but he couldn't remain much longer—

A branch cracked behind him. He whirled around—to catch the flat of a shovel with his face.

The metal clanged against his skull, reverberating... until... blackness.

When he awoke, he was being dragged. The Scot? His face is wasted. Too weak to trace. Try again. Blackness wavered once more.

"To some of us, leech, this is no' a game," MacRieve said. Sound of waterfall nearing. Steam thickening. Can't trace. "No' merely a way to impress a Valkyrie, so that she might deign to fuck you."

Dragged to the edge.

"For your stunt at the minefield, you're going for a swim, and your wee Valkyrie is going for a dive."

How high is the drop? Won't matter. The sun...

"I doona think you'll die, no matter how much you might want to."

MacRieve punted him in the ribs, sending him flying over the edge.