The Vaga (6 page)

The stadium is jam packed with spectators. The
bright overhead lights illuminate the scoreboards standing at either end of the field where
Eye of the Tiger
is playing loud and clear. I shudder at the clichéd music and vow to at least give this game a fifteen minute window before leaving with a sudden headache. We push through the excited crowd, heading into the upper level stands. I lead the way, moving us up towards exit door nine where we find a row of spare seats.

‘Man, this stadium is pumping,’ Phoebe declares, taking off her jacket and throwing it over her chair.

‘There are so many people,’ I comment nervously, feeling my anxiety creeping its way in. Even though instinctively I’ve already mapped out an escape plan—the exit doors off to our left and the fire escape that leads down from the facility chute behind us—none of this stops the pounding of my heart.

Phoebe throws me a compassionate look. ‘Everything is alright, E.’

I nod and smile unconvincingly, years of wariness having played torture on my nerves.

Sam shrugs his jacket off and pushes his dark hair away from his face, his eyes scanning the crowd with intensity.

What is he searching for?

Before I can think any more of it, the loud speakers, situated in all four corners of the stadium, boom out
La La
by
Shakira
, and the Titan cheerleaders make their way out onto the field, their yellow and brown skimpy ensembles bringing the massive crowd to their feet.

As much as it pains me to admit, I can’t help but be swept away by the enthusiasm and energy within the stadium. The vibration of the excited crowd, the upbeat music, and the sight of Phoebe dancing wildly to the beat makes my heart feel light. For a moment I could forget that history was repeating itself and that my life might again be threatened by my enemy. Only this time I wasn’t sure who that enemy was.

The cheerleaders finish their routine and the football teams make their way onto the field one after the other in a spectacle of testosterone and muscle. Blake is among them, his strong frame and height easy to spot even in uniform. The number eight is scrawled across his back in large black lettering.

Phoebe nudges me. ‘See. Told you there would be lots of sweaty men here tonight.’ Her cheeky smile holds mischief.

‘Hey, I’m sitting right here you know,’ Sam says.

Phoebe giggles and grabs his arm. ‘Aw, are you jealous?’

‘Jealous? Of muscle bound footballers? Don’t be so ridiculous.’ Sam shakes his head and crosses his arms defensively.

Phoebe glances at me and stifles a laugh.

I shake my head and hear my phone ting with a new text.

‘Who is it? Phoebe asks.

I text back. ‘It’s Rhianna. She wants to know where we’re sitting.’

‘Oh good. Tell her to get some hot dogs on the way up here.’

‘She’s sitting on the other side of the stadium. She’ll come over at half-time.’ Phoebe’s shoulders slump. Shaking my head I say, ‘I’ll go get you some.’

Her face lights up. ‘Yay!’

‘What position does Blake play?’ I ask, grabbing my bag.

Phoebe says, ‘Quarterback. One of the best the Titans have seen in a few years too.’

‘How do you know that?’ Sam asks, frowning.

Phoebe shrugs and passes me a wide-eyed look.

A laugh escapes me. What Sam doesn’t know about Phoebe’s history of dating men, especially macho men, would astound him.

‘What’s that laugh for?’ he asks me.

‘Nothing. I’m just going to get some hotdogs now,’ I reply quickly, wanting to avoid this conversation. Phoebe grabs my leg as I walk past and pinches it with force. I playfully swat her hand away.

Magi starts to follow me out, but I stop her. ‘Mags, I’ll only be a few minutes. You stay here.’

She stops and sits on her haunches, eyeing me with concern.

Sam puts his hand on her head. ‘Stay here, Magi. Ellie will be back soon.’

Immediately I see Magi’s aura calm and she lifts her head under Sam’s hand.
How bizarre, Magi never responds like that to anybody
. She continues to watch me, but sidles closer to Sam, who pats her head gently in response.

I walk out the exit doors and make my way through to one of the many canteen style eateries that fill the stadium. Lucky for me the game hasn’t really started yet so the line-up isn’t too long.

As I rifle through my bag for my purse a familiar deep voice whispers into the back of my head. ‘You need to be more careful.’

Julian
.

My whole body goes into overdrive, a warm tingly sensation spreading from my toes to the top of my head. My blood ignites in a rush of desire, warning and fear all thrown into one. I struggle to keep my emotions in check but it proves to be more difficult than I ever could have imagined. It’s as if time has stopped and the world around me ceases to exist.

The dreams, the feelings, the fears that I’ve been having for years all come rushing to the surface in a huge wave that threatens to engulf me, taking me into its watery jaws to be forever lost on the bottom of the sea bed.

Hearing his voice I now realise the enormity of what these feelings represent, and yet…I don’t want to admit the truth. Admitting what they mean is like betraying everyone I’ve ever loved. It would change everything.

No
,
I’m not ready for that
.

I push the feelings deep down, imagining them being forced into a large box, and I slam the lid shut. Staring straight ahead I swallow the lump in my throat before saying, ‘Careful of what?’

I hear him intake a sharp breath before answering. ‘Careful of the enemy you think you know…but don’t.’

His voice contains a hypnotic lilt that tells me he is well educated—a hint of an accent both refined and cultured, yet it also holds a smoldering quality to it that sends a warm tremble up my spine. His breath this close causes the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to rise.

Finding my courage, I begin to turn around but he stops me with his words. ‘No. Don’t turn around. Just listen. You have to be more vigilant, Elena. Do
not
think you know this enemy. They are more dangerous than you could imagine.’

My anger surfaces. ‘What enemy is that?’ I spit out. ‘The Puritans, the Venators, or you?’ My breathing becomes rapid as my old bitterness emerges. I want to turn around and slap him. He, and others like him, are my enemy. They are the reason my family have all been murdered. What does he care what happens to me?

I hear him sigh. ‘Yes, you’re right. I cannot change the past. I told you in the letter that I was sorry.’ He pauses briefly before continuing. ‘But this is different, Elena. You cannot be blinded by your past hatred or you will get yourself killed.’

Out of the corner of my eye I see him raise his hand towards my shoulder, but then he hesitates mid-air. My breath catches again, and I all but will him to do it. As much as I feel years of anger and resentment clutching at my chest, there is a part of me, a deep yearning within me that outweighs those emotions.

The air between us is still. Neither one of us willing to break first. The energy emanating off him is not hostile, in fact, it feels like he is trying to protect me, to warn me.

I move forward in the line, making sure to keep my voice down and my eyes focused straight ahead. ‘Why are you here?’

I feel his body move closer to mine and his warm breath brushes my skin. ‘I told you I would see you again. I was hoping it would be under better circumstances, but I’m afraid that can’t be. You are in real danger, Elena. I have received word that the enemy is already here.’

‘What enemy? What are you talking about, Julian?’ I ask exasperated.

Saying his name affects him, his aura projecting a desirable reaction that courses through me. He doesn’t respond right away. ‘They are called…the Vaga. Or as you would understand it in English, the Dark Sword.’

Of course they are
, I think sarcastically, knowing that the language of the old ways is always a favourite among the archaic cults of the past. Although I’ve never heard that name before.

Over the years I’ve researched countless religious, occultist, and mythological sites and books, educating myself on a world I wasn’t even aware of before, all in an attempt to know my enemy, and my own kind, better. Ama told me that my future would not only depend on my magic and skills, but that it would also depend on the knowledge I had at my disposal. I took her word for it.

When I don’t respond he continues. ‘The Vaga are a group of supernatural creatures dating back to the time of the Ancients. They are led by an Immortal named Erebus—the God of darkness and shadow. Erebus has lived for eons and is the ultimate wielder of the dark arts. The creatures who obey him have unique skills that can be…hired or bought, so to speak.’

A sharp laugh escapes me and I feel him tense up. ‘Sorry, but this sounds like a load of crap. Are you saying that the Vaga are like supernatural bounty hunters or something?’ I shake my head at the absurdity of it all.

He moves very quickly, his lips almost touching my ear. ‘This is not a joke!’ he hisses. ‘These
things
practise the dark arts. They live for it, feeding off the suffering of others. They have been summoned to find you, Elena, and they do not show mercy.’

His words pierce my armour like a heavy rain of bullets.

‘Do not take this lightly. The Vaga are here to kill you. I have received word that there is already one on your tail. What powers it possesses I do not know, as I’ve never encountered them myself, but the legends say that they will not give up the hunt until there has been blood spilled.’

The hunt? Could that have been what was stalking us in the park?

‘How did they know I was alive?’ I whisper.

‘Apparently not every Dominus believed you were dead.’ Guilt lines his voice.

Dominus—Latin for master or lord. I always knew that the Puritans must have some sort of hierarchical order to their organisation, but Julian confirming it makes me feel sick to my stomach. How many of them are there?

‘How do you know all this?’ I ask.

‘I remain in contact with
one
who is willing to help.’

A Dominus choosing to help me? Nothing he said could have shocked me more. Why would they be helping me when all they’ve done is murder us for centuries? It doesn’t make any sense.

‘Why would a Dominus be helping me?’

He hesitates before saying, ‘I have asked myself that many times over the years and I…I can’t answer that question.’

Can’t or won’t
?
And what is that about years
? My suspicions are raised but a more pressing question comes out of my mouth. ‘Why are
you
helping me?’

His energy softens, and with it his words. ‘I think you know why.’

I bite my lip against the truth that radiates through me. I don’t want to admit it, but I know that I can’t keep hiding behind a wall of lies either. Taking a deep breath I finally let the words of truth flow through me.

He is
the one
, the man I am destined to be with, the man who will be the father of my child.

The lump in my throat grows until I find it hard to swallow. What will this do to my family? Uncle Jo will never understand. And Phoebe…? Phoebe will never forgive me.

Isis’ magic is throbbing in excitement at my admission, sending a wave of uneasiness coursing through me. Did she know all along that Julian and I were meant to be together? And if so, was I just some pawn in Isis’ ultimate resurrection? My heart doesn’t want to think that she would use me like that and yet…a sinking feeling inside of me tells me that it might be the truth.

His hand brushes mine for only a brief whisper, jolting me back from my dark thoughts. ‘I have to go, Elena. I will be watching.’

I turn around but he is already gone, vanished into thin air as if he never really existed. How did he move so quickly?

‘Next!’ I hear the woman behind the counter yell. Her gravelly smoker’s voice shakes me back to reality.

‘What took you so long?’ Phoebe grumbles as I shuffle past, handing her the hot dogs and drinks.

‘The line was long,’ I respond gruffly.

Ignoring my tone she says, ‘Well you’re here now. And just in time for the next kick off.’

I sit down beside her and realise that Magi isn’t here. My pulse quickens. ‘Where’s Mags?’

‘You were taking too long so I sent Sam and Magi after you,’ Phoebe replies, taking a large bite of her hotdog with delight. ‘And before you ask, no, it wasn’t about the food. I had a funny feeling of sorts. But you’re obviously okay, so nothing to worry about, right?’

If only she knew. ‘Yeah, right.’

The sound of the crowd turns my attention back to the game and I look down to see the ball fly through the air before being caught at the other end. One team charges the other, both wanting to obtain the ball—the ultimate prize—using it to fulfill the end result of a touchdown and a win for the most strategically skillful team.

How ironic that this game should resemble my life.

Magi returns and pushes past Phoebe to get to me. She nuzzles me fervently, obviously worried. Stroking her fur I reassure her I’m fine.