Rise of the Firebird (10 page)

“How dare…” she managed before he kissed her forcefully. His power, which she had only glimpsed at, poured over her like a broken weir. Her own jumped in response, wrapped around his and pulled it into her until it was thrumming through every cell and nerve of her body. It turned to white heat as it rushed back through her and into him causing him to break contact. He tried to catch her as she slumped to the ground, but he ended up sinking on the floor beside her.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” she said as she tried to steady her breathing. “Are you hurt?” He didn’t reply so she dragged herself over to him, “Søren?” His green eyes flickered open and focussed on her worried face.

“
Elenya,
what did you do?”

“What did I do? You kissed
me
. You were the one dumb enough to try it when I was angry.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she hissed, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve.

“I suppose it does answer the question of whether or not you can steal someone’s power. I felt like my insides were going to be my outsides at any moment. Would that happen each time you kissed someone with power?”

“I’ve no clue. Did I hurt you?” she asked.

“I have a pain in my chest,” he wheezed.

“Oh no, oh no,” she whispered as she lifted up his shirt to see if there were any wounds or marks. “I don’t see anything.” The dark tattoo on the side of his hip drew her gaze like it always did and she brushed his shirt back over it quickly.

“You like my
Dauđi Dómr
tattoo.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Why do you always look at it then?”

“I do not,” Anya said turning red.

“If you say so.”

“Why did you do that? I could’ve seriously hurt you,” Anya chastised as she sat back and pulled her knees to her chest. The residue of his magic was moving around inside of her, churning with her own.

“I was curious.”

“But you hate me.”

“Do I?” he said as he rolled onto his side and propped his head up with his hand.

“I assume so. You tormented me in New Orleans and threatened to kill me. You threw a knife at me. I’m the descendant of the woman who destroyed your life and I look exactly like her. I strolled around in your head a few nights back and you were so angry that you made me cry, and then I hardly saw you for days. Let’s not forget last night when you were keen to take my head off.”

“Do you always over analyse everything? It’s no wonder you have a drinking problem. I love the way you completely ignore all the nicer things I did for you like not kill you. Then I gave you a necklace that saved your skin and everyone else’s. I organised a training room and a laptop and showed you Ilya’s prophecies, because I knew somehow you would see one was missing and I therefore break no vows of secrecy. I convinced Ruthann to force Aramis to tell everyone about his and Yanka’s tempestuous relationship, even though it brought up things that I never wanted to talk about again. I even put you to sleep last night and did I mention that I
haven’t
killed you?”

“I believed you had an ulterior motive or you were biding your time.”

“Did I really make you cry?” he asked as he sat up next to her. She gripped her knees tighter.

“I’ve been crying a lot lately so you aren’t entirely to blame.”

“You dated a Thanatos and you’re afraid of me.”

“Trajan never frightened me, but you do,” she said softly.

“Do you love Aramis?”

“Not in the way you are implying.”

“Good, because he probably will try to hit me when he finds out that I kissed you without your permission.”

“You’re lucky it was a good kiss. Otherwise, I would let him.”

“If I really hated you, it wouldn’t have been so good,” he said as he got to his feet. He held out a hand to her and she felt her magic fizz when she took it.

“How reassuring,” said Anya as she let go of his hand.

“I don’t hate you half as much as I had planned to, but don’t tell anyone, because I have a reputation to keep.”

“The scary reputation to keep little Álfr well behaved?” She pulled on the tip of his hair playfully. He frowned down at her, so she carefully patted it back into place.

“Something like that. Good night,
Elenya
. Try to sleep.” He melted into the night, leaving her more confused than ever.

The following day, Anya was angry and despondent. Ruthann was avoiding her and her magic wouldn’t settle in her skin. She tried to find Aramis to have a lesson with him, but he, like Ruthann, was nowhere to be found.

It had been over a fortnight since Anya had awakened and she was still no closer to leaving or knowing what to do about Yanka. She hadn’t invaded her dreams since the Twins had slain her in Trajan’s form. Anya had a strong suspicion that Chayton and Honaw were protecting her somehow. She didn’t need to dream of Trajan any more than she already was. Søren kissing her had made her uncomfortable, almost as if she were betraying Trajan, even though she had no idea what the Enforcer was planning to do.

Anya was doing her best to shield her grief, burying it deep down until she had the liberty to express it. No matter how hard she pushed it down, she couldn’t stop missing him. Trajan’s absence was as if a part of her was gone. She kept waking up and expecting him to be sitting close by her; a copy of Byron or Chaucer in his hand, his long fingers absently twirling a lock of his hair over and over, and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Sometimes, she thought she could smell lingering traces of his aftershave, as if he had only just left the room. Cerise had called the hotel in New Orleans and had arranged for his things to be forwarded to them, and Anya was waiting for them to arrive with urgency and dread.

Yvan’s laugh broke through her heavy thoughts. She spotted him strolling with a red haired woman. She was speaking quickly, her hands fluttering with expression. An unfamiliar emotion coursed through Anya like a violent wave as she watched the woman rest her hand on Yvan’s arm. Anya’s fists clenched tightly at her sides. Yvan looked up and saw her. His face changed from amusement to concern. Anya turned and hurried back the way she came before she said or did something irrational.

She was reading some of Ilya’s writings behind a wall of carefully constructed books in the library when she felt something move behind her.

“Why are you hiding today?” Søren asked and Anya flinched. She took a deep breath and didn’t look up.

“Not hiding, busy trying to save the world.”

“My brother has sent me to apologise for upsetting you. He said he could feel that you were angry about me kissing you.”

“He’s right.”

“You aren’t angry about me kissing you. You are angry that you liked it.”

“Oh, and you can read minds?”

“I don’t have to. What’s bothering you about it? That you feel like you are betraying Trajan? Or that it was with me?” Anya’s magic whipped out as she spun around in her chair. He defended himself easily as if he expected her to try something and that annoyed her even more.

“I would like to know what the point was,” she hissed. “What are your motives? What the hell do you want from me?”

“Call it curiosity,” he shrugged.

“Well, fuck you and your curiosity,” Anya said as she threw a book at him. He caught it and placed it on the shelf beside him.

“Are you always like this or do I bring it out in you?”

“How dare you…” she shut her mouth quickly before she said anything more. She got to her feet quickly and started for the door. As Søren moved to stop her, she flung out her hand and an invisible wave of force tossed him backwards, slamming him hard against the stone wall. Blood poured out of his nose and ears, and Anya screamed as he fell to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“So…I guess… you really were upset…about that kiss,” he choked as blood poured from the corner of his mouth.

“No, I wasn’t,” she smoothed his long hair back from his face, “but you can be such a provoking jerk.”

“I know,” he said as his eyes closed.

“Søren?” Anya tapped his face, “Wake up! Oh no, please…” Anya unbuttoned his black shirt and laid her cheek over his heart. Summoning her power, she grabbed either side of his ribs and pushed magic into him. “Don’t die, don’t die,” she whispered against his skin. She tried to imagine her magic fixing the damage she had caused, knitting his broken bones back together. She jumped as he inhaled deeply.

“Anya stop!” he cried out. Carefully, she drew her power back into her skin and she started shaking.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said over and over like a mantra.

“I am fine,
Elenya
, I am fine.” He patted her back awkwardly.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know. I was going to try to stop you. I didn’t know that it was going to take massive injury and rapid healing to do it though.” She got up and helped him to his shaky feet.

“You should go and have a shower to clean all that blood off,” Anya said choking back tears. He gave her a twisted smile that would have been charming if it wasn’t for all the blood on his face.

By the time Anya got back to her room, she was shaking so hard she thought she was going to collapse. She carefully shut the door before she sank to the floor, huge sobs choking her. Søren’s blood was all over her hands and shirt. “I almost killed him,” she whispered looking at it, horrified at what her power had done. She bit her forearm to keep herself from screaming.

After all this time, she thought she would’ve had better control over magic, but Søren had jolted her temper and it had lashed out of her like the day she had killed Vasilli’s minion. She had almost killed someone
again
because she couldn’t get it together.

Anya still felt the residue from Søren’s magic in her from their kiss the night before. If she had held onto that from one kiss, she didn’t want to think about what effect forcing her power into his body was going to do.

A warm hand touched her shoulder softly. “Is any of the blood yours,
shalosť
?”

“
Nyet
,” she murmured as Yvan sat on the floor beside her.

“Did you kill someone?”

“Magic almost killed Søren,” she mumbled, looking up at him over her knees. “Didn’t mean to. I killed him and then healed him.”

“
Yeba,
” Yvan swore. “How is he now?”

“Not sure. He was walking upright when I left him.” He reached over and lifted her chin.

“Are
you
hurt?” She placed her hand over his, holding it to her face.

“Not physically, I just…” He moved and put an arm around her shoulders. The heat rising through the navy fabric of his shirt told her that the firebird had returned. She leant into him and let the warmth comfort her.

“I’m tired of being this emotional,” Anya said as she wiped her cheeks with the backs of her bloody hands. “I have no control over anything anymore. I can’t control my power when I’m angry even after all of my lessons. I am …frustrated with everything. I am
so
angry all the time.”

“I know.”

“Are you going to stay here with the Álfr when I leave for New Orleans?” she asked, even though she didn’t want an answer.

“No, whatever gave you that idea?”

“I saw you with that woman today and you looked relaxed and safe and happy, and I wouldn’t hold it against you if you did stay. I would really miss you but…”

“You are babbling, Anyanka. I’m not staying behind when you go. I never, ever would let you face Vasilli and Yanka on your own. The woman that you saw me with uses fire magic. Ruthann thought it would be good for me to speak with her about the firebird.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed, you crazy girl. If I were the kind of man to leave you in your darkest hour, I wouldn’t consider myself a man at all. The Hero doesn’t leave the damsel because she is in distress, even ones like you that are
always
in distress.”

Yvan kissed the top of her head and she managed to smile at him, but it didn’t help alleviate the sick wrenching inside of her that had been under her ribs since she had seen him with the woman. He opened his mouth to say something when the door behind him opened.

“Hello, Anya, I was coming to see you…” Aramis stopped mid-sentence when he saw Yvan. “Why are you covered in blood? What has happened?”

“Yvan can tell you. I need to get clean,” Anya said as she got off the chair and hurried to the bathroom. She turned on the shower taps as she heard their voices begin arguing.

Fifteen minutes later, Anya walked from her rooms in a pair of baggy flannel pyjama pants and a singlet, only to find Ruthann sitting expectantly with Aramis, Søren and Yvan.

“I’m going to have to start renting my rooms out for meetings,” Anya commented. “What is it I can do for you all?”

“Søren told me what happened today. That was sloppy but not entirely unprovoked. I’ll spend some time showing you how to control it when your emotions rise, but we need to discuss these writings of Ilya’s first.”

“You are going to admit I know what I am talking about now?”

“I knew to begin with. I was very surprised that Ilya hid a secret message and that you could find it,” Ruthann sighed. “It was a sign that you should have it.”

“Well, hand it over. I’ve stayed sitting here doing nothing for long enough.”

“It’s not that simple, Anya. It isn’t a matter of handing it over.”

“I still can’t believe that you hid it from me all of these centuries,” Aramis muttered.

“The prophecy was not meant for you,” Ruthann said harshly. “Besides, it has been sealed with a
blođtaufr,
so even I don’t know what it says.”

“A
blođtaufr
?”

“A blood charm. Only Anya could read it.”

“Where is it, Ruthann?” Anya asked steadily. “If it’s back in Europe, we need to go now before Yanka learns of its existence. If she gets to it first…”

“She will not get to it first,” Ruthann said slowly. “I can guarantee that. And it isn’t in Europe.”

“You hid it in Skazki? A thing like that? You know how time and land shifts in the Otherworld! It could be lost forever by now,” snapped Aramis.