Blood Price (13 page)

* * * * *

It was good she hadn’t expected a warm welcome. Her first sight of Temhoe was depressing. Vast marshland surrounded the entire small area that had been cleared for crude wooden dwellings with hand-cut wooden shingles. A general state of disrepair affected everything, lending an even gloomier cast to the already sad atmosphere. At first appearance, Temhoe was unwelcoming.

Her first introduction with another Kosmistan proved to be equally unwelcoming. Nikia hung back near the doorway of the cramped kitchen as Yuri conversed with a woman even older than he was, with broad hips, stark white hair scraped into a bun, leathery skin, and cold, black eyes that never deviated from Nikia, even as she appeared to berate the man.

Yuri nodded his head to the woman, turned to Nikia and bowed at the waist. “Mother will speak.” Then he slipped through the doorway leading into the rest of the small cottage, leaving her on her own with the woman eyeing her so disdainfully.

She cleared her throat as she forced her feet to take a step forward. “Do you speak English, ma’am?”

“Enough.” Her voice was as sharp as her eyes and as glacial as the ice on the poles of the Earth. “Who are you?”

“My name is Nikia…” She trailed off when the woman’s expression closed.

“Get out. We not need your kind here.”

She held out a hand. “Please, won’t you listen?”

The woman crossed her arms, pursed her lips and stared at her. She didn’t repeat her directive to leave, so Nikia continued.

“My grandmother came from this village, I guess. Her name was Elsa and she married a—”

“вампир,” interjected the old woman. “Bloodsuckers.”

She nodded, not about to quibble over terminology while the woman was somewhat listening. “She had a daughter named Illiana. I am Illiana’s daughter.”

“Pure evil,” the woman whispered. Her eyes focused more sharply on Nikia. “You are pure evil. Yuri should not have brought you. Leave this place.”

A tear spilled from her eye and she brushed it away. “You’re my last hope. My mother has controlled my body for thirty-three years of my life. Only after awakening from a coma was I able to take over but she’s fighting me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “She’s winning.” The migraine flared in intensity, as if Illiana was reveling in her triumph.

The woman kept up her icy façade. Nikia stared at her for a moment, hoping she would change her mind but the woman held fast. With dropped shoulders, she turned to leave the kitchen, not knowing what else she could do. She had exhausted her last option. Atar would be coming for her, so all she could do was take a room somewhere near the airport and wait for him. She wouldn’t try to escape her fate again, she vowed. It was too important to stop Illiana, even if it meant dying.

Lost in thought, with her feet methodically leading her to the crude mud road Yuri had driven her down, Nikia didn’t see someone approach. It wasn’t until a hand fell on her arm that she jerked and looked up to see a woman close to her age standing slightly behind her. She had long hair the shade of maple, with large green eyes. Her features were familiar, although Nikia had never met her before.

“I am Oksana…your cousin.”

Nikia’s eyes widened at the revelation. “How did you—”

“I heard your discussion with Gran.” She shrugged. “She is old and set in her ways. Elsa betrayed the family when she left our village and ways to marry one of the vampires. Gran curses whenever she hears her name. She is even more angry now that a woman tricked her into learning a binding spell last year under the claim of trying to control Elsa’s evil ways.” She shook her head. “The truth was revealed, but not until this Sian already had the knowledge.

“Gran does not forgive.” Oksana’s lips curved into an indulgent smile. “But she forgets a child shouldn’t be held responsible for the sins of its parents. I will help you.”

Her cousin’s rapid speech in English thick with an accent, especially the mention of Sian, made Nikia’s head spin. She latched onto her last words. “How? What can be done?”

“Illiana must be banished. There is a spell I can perform that will allow you to confront her in your mind.” She paused, scanning the area. “We cannot do it now.”

Disappointment burned through her chest. “Why not?”

“You need support, someone to keep you linked to this realm. If you defeat her, Illiana’s essence will depart from this world but your spirit might follow, unable to give up the fight.”

Nikia shook her head. “I won’t. Please, I need you to do this.”

“No, we will wait.”

“For what?”

Oksana nodded her head in the direction of the road, where a motorcycle was approaching. “We wait for him.”

Nikia turned, gasping when she saw Atar. How had he caught up with her so quickly? She turned back to Oksana, taking the woman’s hand without thought. “Don’t tell him I’m here. He wants to take me back. He doesn’t believe me. He’ll never let me go through with this.” She swore Illiana’s cold laughter echoed through her brain, although the migraine hadn’t attained the severity of the last time she had spoken with her mother.

“Shush.” She patted Nikia’s hand. “Have some faith in him, Nikia. You need a link strong enough to draw you back and who better than the one you love?”

* * * * *

How the hell had he gotten himself into this? Atar shook his head at the situation, wondering why he was in the middle of it. The woman, Oksana, had been too persuasive and he hadn’t been able to turn away from the pleading in Nikia’s eyes. She really believed her mother had controlled her, meaning she was probably mentally ill. Dissociative Identity Disorder, wasn’t it called? If that was the case, how could the archaic spell the cousin was casting do anything to help her? She needed medication and counseling, not magic and ceremonies.

He intended to make sure she got the help she needed when he took her back to her sister. In the meantime, it would do no harm to let her have the ceremony. It might help her stay focused long enough to reach Corsova, without taking off on him again.

“Atar?”

He looked down at her when she clutched his hand and spoke his name. “Yes?”

“How did you get here so quickly?”

“Anca chartered a jet. It’s at my disposal from this point.” He forced a lighthearted wink. “It’s more convenient for chasing after you.”

Her expression remained serious, almost grim. “I won’t run again. I promise you that. If this doesn’t work, there’s only one way to banish Illiana.” She flinched but her resolve didn’t waver. “I’ll have to die.”

He couldn’t draw in a breath for a long moment at her pragmatic words. Grasping her hand, Atar said, “That’s crazy. You just need help. I’ll make sure Anca takes care of you.”

Her eyes were sad but she must have decided not to argue. Instead, she brought his hand to her face and rubbed her cheek against it. “I’d rather have you taking care of me.”

He swallowed, not sure what to say. To delay a response, he shifted from a kneeling position to sitting Indian-style on the hand-woven rug beside the pallet where Nikia lay. He blinked when fragrant smoke from the incense entered his eyes. What could he tell her? He wanted to be there for her but if she was mentally ill, she needed a lot more help than Atar could give her. Finally, he said, “I’ll be there if you need me.”
As much as I can without interfering
, he added silently.

Oksana’s return interrupted their conversation. She wore a simple outfit of cloth trousers and a white shirt. Their ceremonies must not call for any special garb. Atar had never participated in a vampire or werewolf ritual but he had heard the vampires liked robes and the werewolves preferred nudity.

He looked down when Nikia squeezed his hand again but her eyes weren’t on him. They were focused on a plain wooden cup Oksana held and wide with fear. “What is that?” he asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

“A dram.” She didn’t elaborate, except to say, “It will put Nikia in a deep trance, so that she can find her mother in her mind and banish her.”

“How do I do it?”

Oksana shrugged. “The manifestation is different for each person. Just remember what you’re experiencing is real and it isn’t.”

He scowled. “What’s that mean?” The words to halt this nonsense hovered on the tip of his tongue.

“Whatever happens inside her mind will be very real to her, even though it’s not real for us. If she’s injured during the confrontation, physical marks will appear on her body. What happens to her mind happens to her body but she is in control, as long as she remembers that.” Oksana knelt on her knees to hand the cup to Nikia. “You are in control of the scenario. If you need to alter something, you can do it, as long as you don’t get caught up too deeply in the world created in your mind. Most importantly, you have to keep Illiana from defeating you because then she is in command.”

Nikia nodded but didn’t speak. Her manner was meek when she took the wooden cup and drained the contents. Her complexion turned ashen and she blinked repeatedly, as if trying to keep open her eyes.

“Don’t fight it,” Oksana said in a soothing tone. “Let the dram work. The sleep state is necessary.”

Atar brushed the hair from Nikia’s face, biting his tongue to keep from protesting. Her hand in his grew slack and her eyelids closed. While her eyes twitched rapidly under the lids, her breathing was faint and she looked close to death. He leaned toward the cousin, wishing Nikia hadn’t put so much faith in her upon such short acquaintance. “What have you done to her?”

Oksana’s mild reply indicated she wasn’t angry about his suspicion. “I’m helping her. This is her only chance to rid herself of Illiana.”

He scoffed. “You don’t really believe that, do you? It’s something she’s created in her mind, to escape the knowledge of what she’s done.”

Her brow quirked. “You are entitled to your skepticism. All I ask is you remain emotionally available to her if she needs you, despite your disbelief.”

“I’ll be right here until she wakes up. “ No way was he leaving Nikia alone with this woman in such a vulnerable state. Because she claimed to be a family member who wanted to help didn’t mean she was. Who knew what her intentions were?

* * * * *

Where was she? Nikia’s head spun when she opened her eyes. A perplexed frown flashed across her face, as she surveyed the shadowed landscape. Dense patches of fog shrouded the ground she was sitting on, so thick that she couldn’t see any part of her body below the waist when she looked down.

A memory teased the back of her mind, whispering in a voice she couldn’t place. She focused on it, trying to pin down the elusive message. Just as the words started to clarify, another voice intruded.

“Do you think this is wise, Daughter?”

She jerked at the sound of her mother’s voice, bounding to her feet. Her eyes sought out her mother’s presence and she gasped when Illiana stepped closer, providing illumination with the torch she plunged into the ground. “What’s happening?”

She didn’t answer. “I didn’t expect you to have the courage for this.” Illiana shook her head, rustling lustrous waves of cinnamon-red hair so similar to Nikia’s. “How foolish, to push us to this point. I would have allowed you to exist in a small part of my mind. Now, I’ll have to destroy you.”

The memory returned then, of taking the draught and preparing for this confrontation. Nikia straightened her spine. “Your generosity overwhelms me.” She curled her lip, eyeing her mother with distaste. “I’d rather die than share a body with you again.”

Illiana nodded her head. “If that is your wish.”

Holding herself tensely, Nikia braced herself for attack. She had no idea what to anticipate. Would Illiana strike out at her with bare hands or a weapon? She held her breath, determined not to act rashly, thus giving her enemy the advantage. And there was no doubt her mother was her enemy. One of them had to die tonight.

Illiana chose a more insidious method of attack. She flooded Nikia’s mind with images of violence, combined with overwhelming pain. She clutched her head, falling to her knees as she screamed. The torture didn’t end. The images intensified as Illiana replayed the night Nikia’s body had been used as the instrument of her father’s death. Valdemeer’s conflicted expression of rage and sorrow as he lay on the floor, with his lifeblood pumping from him, ripped into her soul. He had died thinking she was as evil as her mother.

She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the visions playing through them. The attack on Anca was next, when she had bitten her as a wolf. Before she could dwell on that, another memory rose to take its place, of the day she tortured and murdered a couple touring Corsova, just for fun. No one knew about that, except she and Illiana.

The worst image that stayed in her mind was of a young Nikia, barely more than a toddler, preparing a poison under her mother’s direction and putting it in a baby bottle, along with sugar-water. Then she crept into the nursery and fed it to her infant brother, Julian. Nikia could still recall how warm and soft he had been in her arms, even as her mother’s dark glee at removing the heir to the Protectorate combined with her emotions. She cried out when it came time to relive the way Julian had stiffened and thrashed as the poison took hold. His last strangled cry echoed through her mouth and she slumped to the ground, burying her face into the mud, trying to shut out the images and accompanying pain. “No more,” she whispered, taking in a mouthful of mud as she did so.

Illiana’s cold laugh sent shivers down her spine. “Why did you think you had the strength for this, Nikia? You are weak. You’ll always be weak. There is nothing of me in you.”

She managed to gain a shred of strength, enough to lift her head. “I’m thankful for that much.” The pain still drilled into her brain but Oksana’s voice was rising above it. She struggled to make out the words.

“
You are in control.
”

Her mouth firmed with resolve and she stared at Illiana’s feet. Her posture suggested subservience and she didn’t look up at her mother, not wanting to dispel that image. Instead, she focused her gaze on the ground under her mother’s feet, forcing herself to see through the fog, until she could make out the muddy ground below. Thunder cracked from somewhere above, followed by a flash of lightning. Nikia briefly wondered why her mind had chosen this setting but pushed aside the thought when realizing it had distracted her.

Rain started pouring from the sky in a torrent, soaking her in seconds. Illiana screeched at the annoyance but didn’t show signs of seeking shelter. She moved closer to Nikia, standing over her. Her hand settled on the back of Nikia’s head, in almost a caressing gesture. The rigid set of her fingers and the way her nails dug into the flesh of Nikia’s neck, gave a different interpretation to the touch. “It ends now, Nikia.”

“Yes,” she said so quietly she didn’t know if Illiana heard her. With all her strength, she focused on the ground, imagining a deep hole opening under Illiana’s feet. A rumbling sounded but it might have been thunder. Her mother paid no mind to it, as she lowered her hand to the side of Nikia’s neck and started squeezing. Her other hand came to join its mate, cutting off Nikia’s air supply.

She didn’t let her gaze waver, knowing she had to finish this. The rumbling returned, much louder this time and definitely originating from the ground. Illiana’s grasp slackened when she looked down. An expression of shock crossed her face and she screamed when a hole appeared beneath her, swallowing her.

Nikia’s vertebrae jolted under the strain of Illiana’s hold, as she anchored her hand into her daughter’s hair and brought her into the hole. Together, they fell into the bottomless pit. Illiana’s screaming didn’t cease but Nikia closed her eyes and turned her thoughts inward. She hovered on the edge of oblivion and reached for it. Quiet darkness beckoned and she wanted it more than anything.

Pain shocked her eyes open, as it emanated from her arm. She looked down and saw a jagged cut there, as if made from a small knife. Whoever had carved it meant it to serve as a message.
Return
.

Atar! What was she thinking? Illiana’s essence was drawing her away with it but she couldn’t go. She had to return to herself. She jerked away from Illiana’s hold but found it wasn’t so simple as that to escape. Invisible bonds anchored her to Illiana, who seemed to find a measure of satisfaction in ensuring Nikia’s destruction along with her own.

Panic seized her and she thrashed, still falling. She reached out, searching for something to grasp in the pit. The sides were smooth and slippery, as rain flooded the trench. It was more difficult to breathe but she drew in a lungful of air and shouted, “Atar, help me.”

She looked up and a hand extended into the pit, although they must have fallen too far by now to let anyone reach them from the ground above. She didn’t question it further when she was able to reach up and grasp his hand. Her descent arrested immediately and she flinched when the bonds binding her to Illiana snapped with a sharp throbbing sensation. Illiana’s screams of rage carried to her but her mother’s body continued falling, into the oblivion from which she couldn’t return.

Meanwhile, the hand offered was Atar’s and he pulled her up, despite her lack of resources to assist him with the task. As he brought her out of the hole, her feet touched ground and the stormy landscape disappeared, morphing into the confines of the small cabin where Oksana had brought her. Atar crouched over her, concern evident on his face, mingled with shock.

Her hand trembled when she reached up to touch her head. It had been so long since she had known a day without even a light headache that she had nearly forgotten what it was like to be pain-free. Her thoughts were clear, despite a bit of lingering confusion and she was whole. Not a trace of Illiana remained. A smile creased her mouth and she reached for Atar, placing her palm on his chest. “She’s gone.”

He stared down at her, perplexed. The silence lengthened between them, until he muttered something and rose, hurrying from the cabin.

Nikia’s brow furrowed when she turned to her cousin, who seemed unmoved by the events. “What’s wrong with him? Does he still doubt me?”

A faint smile showed through her cool exterior. “I’m sure he believes you, Nikia. He was drawn into your mind when you called for him. I think his ability to answer is what has shaken him.”

“How so?”

Oksana shrugged. “I told him only someone who cared deeply for you, who had a connection with you that was more than superficial, could bring you back if you needed help. Only someone who believed could answer your cries for help.” Her smile widened. “When cutting your flesh failed to bring you back, he acted instinctively, reaching out to you in a gesture that should have been impossible with his mindset. I don’t think he knew he believed you until that moment when his spirit joined yours and brought you back from oblivion.”

Nikia blinked, struggling to process what her cousin shared. Did that mean Atar loved her, had faith in her before Oksana initiated the spell? Had he been standing beside her even before he knew it? Again, she questioned if he loved her. Could it be possible that his feelings were the same as hers, despite the adversities plaguing them? Had a reciprocal bond formed between them during the short time they had known each other, instead of being one-sided, as she had believed? She asked the question aloud.

Oksana shrugged. “I don’t know if he loves you. Only he can tell you that. You should go to him.” She waved her hand around the small room. “You may sleep here tonight. Gran doesn’t need to know.”

Nikia nodded, swallowing the sodden ball in her throat. She gathered her courage and sat up, waiting for some physical sign of the battle her mind had waged to impose itself, other than the stinging pain in her arm where Oksana had cut her. She looked down, noticing for the first time she was soaked to the skin, with her hair hanging in wet strings in her face. The taste of mud befouled her mouth and clumps of sludge clung to her sleeve when she wiped her face. Prior to confronting Atar, she needed to wash.

Before she could make her request, Oksana said, “There is a small bathroom down the hallway, if you go through the kitchen. I’ll bring you a change of clothes, since those are ruined.”

“Thanks.” She got slowly to her feet, hesitating when she stood. “Do you think I should speak to him first?”

Her cousin shook her head. “No. Give him time to think through the situation. When your body is refreshed, you will feel more like undertaking the task before you.”