New Title 1 (15 page)

Ucidhere opened his arms to catch her, but instead of accepting his offer, the girl hugged Zoricah’s legs instead.

“Oh!” Z was completely taken aback. Children didn’t usually like her, and they certainly didn’t run to hug her like that. They sensed her warrior inmã and kept their distance.

But apparently not this little possum. Unable to stop herself, Zoricah picked up the child in her arms.

“Look! We have the same hair!” the girl exclaimed, dragging a handful of Zoricah’s locks close to hers.

“Yes, we do,” Z chuckled. “And your eyes are the color of honey, just like mine.”

“No, my eyes are honey and green,” the girl corrected Z. “Look.” She turned her head, away from the sun. Her beautiful topaz eyes immediately switched to a deep green.

Just like Tardieh’s.

It was Zoricah’s turn to gasp in surprise. Dear Soartas, could this be happening? Was this girl … was she her …? Zoricah didn’t dare finish that thought. She stared wide-eyed at Ucidhere.

“Is she staying here with us, uncle?” the girl asked the god, while playing with a strand of Zoricah’s hair.

“No, my dear, but you will see her again,” he said pinning Zoricah with his eyes. “Quite soon I presume.”

Holy. Apa. Dobrý.

The children in the middle of the stone circle started singing a tune that captured the little girl’s attention.

She kissed Zoricah on the cheek and climbed down. “So, see you later, OK?”

“OK,” Zoricah chocked out. She was having a hard time containing the tears that filled her eyes.

“You have an important mission ahead of you, Zoricah,” Ucidhere stated, watching the little girl play with the other children.

Z swallowed dry.

“If you think your last mission was straining, think again. Your entire life is about to turn upside down and you will embrace it with open arms. You will experience insufferable pain at the same time an imaginable joy will fill your heart,” Ucidhere explained. “But,” he paused gravely. “You cannot fail; you must take it through to the end. Everything else,
everyone else
must come second, even your own life. Do you understand?”

Z nodded, numbly.

“If not, they will win and Apa Sâmbetei will be no more.”

“They who?”

The soft cadence of a nursery rhyme reached her ears. As if pulled by an invisible force, Z turned her attention to the children in the middle of the stone circles. Her little possum was dancing and singing with the other kids. They sang a melodic poem Zoricah had never heard before. Suddenly, a beautiful woman stood up and joined the kids. Her long black hair flowed with the light wind; her lean body seemed to float not dance.

“Zmyzel,” Z whispered in awe.

The Goddess of Life picked up Z’s little girl and twirled her in the air. The girl chuckled happily, filling the world with joy. A bright green and honey-colored aura radiated off her tiny body. It grew and grew, until Zmyzel was also engulfed by the beautiful glow. They were as one.

Ucidhere crossed the clearing and joined in on the dance. He locked Zmyzel and the little girl in a bear hug. The Goddess feigned being startled by the unexpected embrace and the girl gave out another one of her squeals. The Gods repeated the same jest over again, and at every turn, the little girl rewarded them with the most contagious giggles.

Zoricah’s mind felt numb. Something nagged at her, telling her that this was a very bizarre behavior for Gods.

Mother…
The word was whispered in Zoricah’s ear and she suddenly realized she was seeing two generations of her own family dance in front of her.

The nursery rhyme they were humming became suddenly very clear, as if a door to her mind had just been opened. Even though it was being sung in a joyful tune, the lyrics were quite dark.

“Blood is spilled. Blood from the innocent.

Lost inmãs can’t find their way. Apa Sâmbetei.

Lighting from alabaster hands

Tear the night apart, chaos in orderly world.

Magical sparkle fills the skies, ball of fire breaks through,

But sharp teeth sees it through …”

What in Hiad were they singing? That was no nursery rhyme!

Out of the blue, Zoricah was consumed by immeasurable tiredness. She felt so drowsy and sluggish. The more they sang, the more exhausted she felt. Unable to fight the urge to sleep, she lay down on the soft grass and rested her eyes. Deep sleep engulfed her while the strange lyrics immersed into her thoughts.

Chapter Twenty Four

Yara felt the free-fall in her gut as Dyam materialized them all in a secure location about thirty minutes out of New York. She so much as ran to the Porsche Cayenne; one of the several 4x4s in the secret garage, then waited for Dyam and Naiah to jump in. She was dying to drive it herself but this was Dyam’s baby, so, she contented herself on the passenger’s seat. They blasted the way up the hill. Twenty minutes later, they finally reached the first gate. But that wasn’t the end of their journey, was it?
No
, it would’ve been way too easy on Yara’s patience.  The royal property was bordered by a natural reserve. It served two purposes, to hide the massive castle housed just up the hill, and to enable one of the coolest security nets Yara had ever seen.

Dyam stopped by a large oak tree, lowered his window, then swiped a digital key the size of a credit card against a camouflaged brown box, which was attached to the tree. A bright red beam suddenly appeared between the two trees directly in front of the car. A second later, another laser beam appeared between two more trees, then four more, then six more, until the laser net covering the entire forest could be clearly seen.

Naiah gasped in surprise. “Wow, that’s so cool!”

“This is just for us to see the net. The laser beams are actually invisible to the naked eye,” Dyam explained. “Now, watch this.”

He turned the card around then swiped it again. The laser beams between the two trees ahead flickered a couple of times then died out, followed by the ones up ahead, and the ones further on. In a few seconds a pathway clear of lasers was formed for them to drive on. 

“Oh! So cool!” Naiah exclaimed again.

Dyam glanced at her through the rearview mirror; a ghost of a smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

The security ploy was quite cool, actually, and seeing Naiah’s reaction reminded Yara of her own the very first time she was shown the trick as well. But at that precise moment, she had no patience for this. She had to reach Z right now! Her sixth sense told her that her friend was in extreme distress.

“Seriously, Dyam, why couldn’t you have teleported us to the front door?” Yara asked, unable to contain her irritation.

“You know why, Yara,” Dyam drawled. “Tardieh’s entire family was massacred in their own home. It’s only natural that he’s careful about security.”

Careful?
That was the understatement of the century! But Yara forced her mouth shut and let it go because she knew how much Dyam revered his king, and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

After a few minutes, the main gate appeared in front of them. Ai, by the love of Apa Dobrý, finally!

As soon as Dyam parked the car by the mansion’s entrance, Yara darted inside. She crossed the entry hallway just as Remi, Arthur’s rockabilly nephew, walked out of the library.

“Where’s Zoricah, Remi? Is she in her chambers?” Yara asked already climbing the first steps of the long stairway.

“Yes,” the vamp replied then rushed to block her way. “But King Tardieh has ordered us not to disturb her.”

Yara stopped on her tracks, startled by Remi’s boldness. His ’50s style hairdo was covered in so much gel that it didn’t even move.

“Get out of my way,” Yara commanded simply.

“Can’t.”

Yara’s brows jumped up. “Do you have a death wish, boy?”

“The king was clear …”

Yara didn’t let him even finish whatever lame explanation he had memorized. She
had
to see Z, check if she was OK, and she was so not going to be stopped by Wanna-be Elvis. However, ripping the head off staff members was not well received at Tardieh’s, so she resorted to a fail-proof tactic. “Arthur! Arthur!” she bellowed.

In less than a millisecond, Arthur, Tardieh’s uber-attentive house manager, rushed out of the kitchen. “Yes, Ms. Yara?”

“Get your boy out of my way before I chew his ears off!”

“Remi!” Arthur’s reprimand sounded like a death sentence. Beautiful.  

“She wants to see the Queen, uncle …” Remi started.

“And Elvis here seems to think he can stop me,” she added. Her stock of patience was running dangerously low.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Yara,” Arthur replied.

There, she could always count on Arthur to sort it all out…

“But King Tardieh’s orders were adamant.”

“What?”

“The Queen needs rest, she’s very weak,” Arthur carried on apologetically.

“That’s why I have to see her!” Yara bellowed, then squared off Remi. “Get the fuck out of my way or I’ll grab your tiny little co…”

“Yara!” Dyam shouted from the front door.

Yara glared at him but then her eyes spotted Naiah, just behind Dyam. For some insane reason, her sister’s wide eyes in fright made her stop and think about what she was doing. She took a deep breath. Then another. Then one more just to be sure.

She turned to Arthur and asked in a forced calm, “You said Z is weak but resting?”

“Yes, Ms. Yara. She’s fine.”

“OK,” Yara said consenting defeat. “Tell your
king
that I’m making his
queen
more of the special juice to help her get stronger. So, he better let me see her when it’s ready.”

She turned around and left the vamps gawking at her. What a bunch of … Whatever.

Yara stomped to the main kitchen and started gathering the pots and pans she needed. She was going to make a larger batch this time around, just in case.

“I think you’re gonna need these.”

Yara turned around startled. It was only then she noticed Naiah behind her. She was calmly holding the basket they had brought from Brazil.

Yara closed her eyes and cursed silently. “I’m sorry, Naiah, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
Or ignore you, or leave you to fend for yourself in a house full of vamps …
“I’ll just make this potion and then I’ll ask Dyam to take you back.”

“Let me help you,” Naiah interrupted her, already picking up the pot from her hand.

“You’re making a calming potion for a gorged womb, yes?” Naiah asked in a thick Portuguese accent.

Yara quickly checked if there was no one eavesdropping on them, then confirmed. “Extra strength one, but this is our secret, OK?”

Naiah nodded eagerly.

It broke Yara’s heart. Naiah was a sweet girl but Yara was up to her neck with problems – she had to find the last case of the atomic bullets, destroy it before it was too late, help the vamps obliterate any remaining atomic labs, while helping Zoricah carry through her pregnancy to the end. And on top of it all, there was that white wolf that wouldn’t get out of her head. How in Hiad was she supposed to take care of a virgin witch in all that mess?

She closed her eyes and exhaled. A solution for that new conundrum in her life would have to wait. Right now, Z needed her.

“How about you work on the bugs and I’ll chop the herbs?” Yara asked, making an effort to smile.

“Deal,” Naiah replied already digging into the basket. “I love bugs!”

OK, then
. Ignoring how odd that statement sounded, Yara got on to working on her own part of the potion.

They worked together side by side for a good half hour. Yara was happily surprised by Naiah’s accommodating nature. She already looked at home in a stranger’s kitchen and her little additions to the potion made a massive difference. With fresh ingredients and their combined magic, in no time the smell of rotten cabbage was woofing out of the pot. The potion was done.

“Now we need to find a way of storing the concoction,” Yara declared, looking for jars and empty jugs in the glass cupboard.

“If you add a titan bug in the bottle, the brew will be preserved for longer,” Naiah added.

See, she’d done it again. Impressive.

“Yara.” A familiar deep voice resounded in the vast kitchen.

Yara froze in response. Tardieh’s commanding tone always reminded her of her own mother. She turned around and found the king standing imposingly at the other end of the long kitchen table. But something marred his usually assertive aura.

“Zoricah has asked for you,” he declared.

“Is she awake?” Yara asked already filling up a bottle of the stinking brew.

“Yes, Sam is with her already, but...” His eyes searched hers. “I need to ask you something.”

Yara gasped. “Ai, please tell me I’m not too late!”

“Too late for what?” Tardieh asked confused, then his green eyes went wide. “By Apa Dobrý, don’t you dare even think that!” He added weakly. “Z’s been in and out of unconsciousness and running a high fever, but she’s still alive.”

Yara held her tongue and let him think that was what she had meant. Well, if she was too late to save the baby, she’ll soon find out.

Tardieh rubbed his hand on the base of his neck. It was only then that Yara noticed how tired he looked. No, it wasn’t just tiredness it was utter exhaustion borne from several sleepless nights; well, in his case, sleepless days.

“Yara, I want you to tell me what’s causing her illness,” he ordered but it sounded more like a plea. “Your … soup seemed to have helped her, so I assume you know what’s going on.”

Seeing Tardieh so vulnerable made Yara’s heart crack into little pieces. But she couldn’t betray Z. “I’m sorry, Tardieh, I’m just cooking ancient recipes, these are just standard fortifying …”

“But you know what it is, don’t you?” he asked more vehemently this time. “Look,” he exhaled a long breath then looked down. “I need to know if it’s me that is making her so weak,” he whispered. “Maybe it’s my drinking her blood that is draining her. Maybe I’m not giving her enough time to recover, maybe …”

Yara couldn’t help but feel for the guy. There he was, the almighty vampire king, looking like a helpless commoner. “Look, Tardieh, it’s not you, OK? I can assure you that.”

“So you do know what’s causing this.”

Oops.

He pushed off the counter. “Tell me, Yara, please, so I can help get her better.”

“It’s not my secret to tell.”

A crease formed on Tardieh’s stern brow. “Secret?”

“I mean, not
secret
secret, I meant story, case, hmm, tale …”

Tardieh narrowed his eyes at her, then he calmly approached the bench where the several pots of brew were resting. “This smells like rotten cabbage.”

“It does, but it’s not off,” Naiah replied quickly. “It’s supposed to smell that way …” Her voice and eagerness trailed away at Tardieh’s piercing glare.

“I’ve heard of such potions,” he muttered, almost to himself. His frown suddenly dissolved into shock as understanding dawned on him. “She’s pregnant!”

Ai, Soartas.

Yara opened her mouth to deny it but nothing came out. How could she lie to the father of the child, who happened to also be the vampire king?

Before she could find a way out of the tight spot she’d got herself into, Tardieh’s eyes flashed bright red, and immeasurable fury radiated off his entire body.

Oh-Oh.

“She is pregnant and she didn’t tell me?” he bellowed.

Yara cringed. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Naiah recoil backward. If she took one more step back she’d end up in the stove. Literally.

“Tardieh, Z wanted to tell you but she was concerned …,” Yara said, trying to make things less worse.

“Concerned with what? For Hiad’s sake, she had no right to keep such thing from me!”

“Because she needed to be sure it would live, that’s why I went to …”

“FUCK!” Tardieh’s curse was so achingly heartfelt that choked in any excuse Yara was about to give.

Without another word, Tardieh stormed out of the kitchen, toward the royal quarters.

“Ai, Z’s going to kill me.”