Zen and the Art of Vampires (37 page)

Frederic hesitated a moment, but finally gestured to the other two members. Greta reluctantly released me, taking the gun from Frederic and pulling up her hood to join Mikael as they stood at the head and feet of Kristoff. Their voices started a low, singsong chant that Frederic joined in as soon as he pulled a wicked-looking knife from his boot.

Magda's eyes widened at the sight of the blade as it glinted in the light I cast. “Pia?”

“It's all right. Just stay calm. I won't let anyone hurt you.” I glanced at Kristoff. He lay mute, his body stretched taut, as still as if he was already dead. His clothing bore long gashes, testimony to the fact that Frederic was not hesitant to use the knife he held so nonchalantly. I swallowed back a knot in my throat, forcing down the rising nausea at the proof of Frederic's savagery, my gaze locking with Kristoff's for a moment that seemed to stretch to an eternity.

His eyes were filled with neither a plea nor condemnation. He simply watched me with interest, as if I was some sort of specimen he was examining under a high-powered microscope.

“Any last words?” I asked him, keeping my face placid.

His brows rose slightly, and I saw his Adam's apple bob. “None,” he finally said.

I nodded and stepped forward, my eyes on the dagger that Frederic held.

As the chanting increased in volume, something whirled off to the side, like a mini cyclone. Grass and leaves spiraled upward into the air, dust from the dirt it raised leaving a cloudy haze that formed itself into an oval about the size of a small car.

“Ostri,” Frederic said, glancing at me, a slight smile on his face as I gazed in astonishment at it.

“That's . . . heaven?” I asked.

“It is the gateway to Ostri. It is there that you will lead the spirits who have looked to you for guidance—once you have completed the cleansing.”

The stone that swung gently from my wrist had turned into a lantern, glowing in a light identical to that which shimmered around my body. It grew brighter.

“Is that it?” a breathless voice asked behind me. I turned to see motes of light gathering in the air, reforming themselves into Marta. “Is that Ostri?”

“That's it. Where are the others?”

“Coming. It's so beautiful,” she said, her voice filled with awe as she stared at the dusty portal.

“I guess it is.” I couldn't help but smile as the other ghosts slowly re-formed themselves, all of them staring with identical expressions of unadulterated delight at their long-sought destination. “Before you go, I just want to thank you all for everything you've done. No matter what else has happened, or will happen, I'm truly pleased that you will be able to move on.”

Dagrun clicked her tongue against her teeth and pushed forward, past the other ghosts, past where Frederic stood, past Kristoff and the still-unmoving Alec. “I'm not going to stay for the speeches. Farewell and all that.” She stepped into the swirling mist and disappeared.

“Go ahead, all of you,” I told the ghosts, turning back from their beatific smiles as they spoke good-byes before drifting into the vortex.

I had a job to do still, a horrible one that lay before me.

“Get to it, already,” Denise ordered, jerking Magda forward another couple of steps.

“In tua luce videmus lucem,”
Frederic said, gesturing toward Kristoff. “Now is the time, Zorya, daughter of the moon. Draw on our strength. Channel the light that flows through you from the moon goddess mother to cleanse the abomination that lies before us. Right the wrongs.”

The chanting increased in volume, filling me with a euphoric sense of lightness. The light increased in intensity, surrounding me with a corona of power that threatened to burst free and fill the entire hilltop.

Kristoff's gaze met mine, and for a moment, for a second, I was possessed with the absolute knowledge that I could end his suffering. It would be humane. It would be quick. It would be . . . unjust.

“Ulfur?” I asked, struggling to rein back the light that wanted so desperately to pour forth.

“Here.”

The air rippled behind Denise.

“Now,” I said, spinning around to face the two women. Ulfur materialized, throwing himself forward onto Denise, knocking the gun from her hand as Magda was sent flying with a startled cry.

I gathered the light and yelled as I flung it at Denise, “This is for Anniki!”

The light hit her with the impact of a sledgehammer, flinging her backward at least a dozen feet.

Frederic froze for a second, then leaped at me, his face twisting in hate. “If you will not use the light, then I will!”

A sharp burning pain bit deep into my side. I stared down in horror to see him pulling the knife from my side. The blade glistened with blood, but glowed with a pure white light that faded from me even as I watched.

Frederic whirled and ran toward Kristoff. Denise, still struggling with Ulfur, screamed an order to kill me. Magda picked up a rock and slammed it on her head, pointing beyond me and yelling.

Alec had risen to his feet, the right side of his body still rather gruesome, but miraculously partly healed. He lunged forward, knocking Mikael aside in a desperate attempt to free Kristoff's hands.

Greta shot him three times in the chest, sending Alec to his knees.

I knew with absolute certainty that Frederic was going to plunge the light-drenched dagger into Kristoff's heart, and I had no power left to stop him.

I acted without thinking. I leaped forward, throwing myself toward Kristoff, screaming, “No!”

Frederic raised the dagger high in both hands, chanting in a high, strange voice,
“In tua luce videmus lucem!”
before jerking his hands down.

The knife bit into my back as I landed on top of Kristoff. Alec hauled himself to his feet, still frantically trying to free Kristoff's hands despite the fact that Greta continued to empty her gun into him.

Pain blossomed slowly as I lifted my head, a hot glow spreading out from the blade in slow waves of heat that quickly picked up intensity.

Shouts rang out through the trees, familiar voices calling to Kristoff and Alec.

“The light must have faded,” I told Kristoff, who lay prone beneath me, the waves of heat starting to make thinking difficult. “I told you to have faith in me.”

“I do,” he said, the lovely teal of his eyes burning bright.

Frederic screamed as the vampires reached him. Magda rushed over to me, gasping at the knife that I knew was protruding from my back. “Dear god in heaven, Pia. Dear god!”

“I'm all right,” I said, my voice a croak as hands helped me off Kristoff and the stone. My head was swimming, but I made an effort to clear it. Alec, after having kicked the gun from Greta, sent her flying into Rowan's waiting arms, and staggered toward me, grabbing me in a careful but tight embrace.

“My love, my brave love. It is all over, my Beloved. Do not cry—it is over.”

I wasn't crying, but I was shaking with the aftereffects of having been twice stabbed. I didn't complain, however, as Alec cradled me, murmuring words of comfort.

“What are you doing? You can't move her!” Magda ordered, trying to pry Alec's hands off of me. “She's been stabbed! We have to get her to a hospital! Dear god, don't any of you know how to treat someone who's been stabbed? Pia, sweetie, lie down. We'll call an aid unit.”

“There is no need for mortal assistance,” I heard Christian say. I lifted my head, looking at him. He eyed my back carefully for a moment, then, to my surprise, smiled.

“I realize you don't like me, and you'd probably like me dead at this very moment, but I would like to point out that I did not harm any of your people, and I
am
wounded.”

“That doesn't matter anymore,” he said, the odd smile still on his lips.

Alec suddenly stepped back, an indescribable expression on his face.

“There will be repercussions, Pia.”

“What?” I dragged my attention from Alec to him. “I'm sure you still want me dead, but I can assure you—”

“The council will speak to you later, after things have sorted themselves out.”

“I must be in shock again,” I said, shaking my head. “None of this is making any sense.”

“If you are in shock, then so am I. Why are you standing around smiling?” Magda demanded to know.

“She is a Beloved. She is immortal,” Christian said, and before I could say anything he plucked the knife from my back.

I yelped and spun around. “Hey!”

“The wound will heal by itself in a few minutes,” he told me, glancing beyond to Alec. “I will leave you to Alec. He will no doubt wish to explain to you what it is to be a Beloved.”

“But I thought . . .” I blinked a few times, but as usual, that didn't make things any clearer. “A Beloved? How can that be?”

“You sacrificed yourself,” Alec said, his expression stunned. “You saved Kristoff. They would have killed me, too, after him, but you . . . I . . . I don't know . . .”

He stumbled off a few feet, looking as if the ground had been pulled out from under his feet.

I looked over to where Kristoff was being assisted to his feet by Rowan and Andreas.

“So I really am a Beloved after all?” I asked, feeling oddly empty inside.

“You are.” Christian gave me a long look, then handed me a business card. “We will be in contact.”

Then he turned and strode off to where the others were holding Frederic and his buddies.

“What is happening?” I asked no one in particular.

“I'd say your friends are all nutters, but you know, that guy is right—the wound has healed itself up,” Magda said, examining my back.

“I'm Alec's Beloved,” I said, trying to come to grips with the fact. Saying it aloud didn't seem to help.

Kristoff took a step toward me, hesitated, then walked past without saying a word.

Pain lanced through me. I saved his life and he couldn't even acknowledge that? More than ever I felt like crying. Kristoff might be upset that I was his friend's Beloved, but it hurt that he couldn't even face me.

“You're welcome,” I said, fighting tears.

“He has been gravely wounded,” Rowan said before he went over to help the others as they stood guard over the Brotherhood people.

Ulfur stood silently watching us, Ragnar behind him, both of them nearly invisible. They must have exhausted their reserves.

“Thank you,” I told Ulfur, and he summoned up enough energy to materialize a physical form long enough for me to hug him. “You saved us all, but the time has come for you to go. Everyone is waiting for you.”

He gave me a sad smile and faded back to a translucent state. “It's too late.”

I turned to look at the entrance to Ostri, but it was gone. It must have disappeared when the ritual was stopped.

“No,” I said, my shoulders drooping. “Oh, Ulfur—”

“It's all right,” he said, lifting a hand to me. “I kind of like this world. It is interesting, at least. Be well, Zorya Pia. Go with the blessing of the village.”

Pain spun through me, pain and regret so great I wanted to howl to the sky about the injustices of the world that couldn't be made right.

Magda touched my arm. “Is it over?”

“Yes.” I couldn't move. My legs were like lead weights, as heavy as my spirits.

“The good guys won?”

“Yes.”

She patted me gently, careful to avoid the two puncture points. “You did the right thing, but I never doubted you would. And hey, look at it this way—you not only got a new career and two husbands, now you have a vampire of your very own.”

A vampire of my own. I stood numbly thinking about that as she wandered over to offer her help to the remaining vampires. Lucky me, bound for all eternity to a man I didn't know.

But it didn't have to stay that way, did it? We were bound together now—Kristoff had said that Beloveds and their Dark Ones could talk together without words, use some sort of mental telepathy to communicate. It seemed to me that would offer a good way to learn about someone.

Are you out there?
I asked, my eyes on the retreating figure of Alec as he caught up to Kristoff, the two of them about to move out of sight into the trees.
Can you hear me? Does this really work?

Yes, it does.
The voice was instantly there in my head, as loud as if it had been spoken in my ear.

My delight was short-lived. The man who turned back to look at me with an expression of stunned surprise wasn't Alec . . . it was Kristoff.

Dear god. It wasn't Alec. My mind whirled around helplessly, trying to understand what had happened.

Kristoff's gaze met mine over the distance, and I realized that the pain and regret I felt originated from him. He didn't want me. He never had. I was merely a warm body to feed him and satisfy a purely physical need. His heart was still bound in grief to the woman who'd been so cruelly killed, a woman who by all accounts should have been the one to redeem him.

Not me. But life is cruel, and we'd been bound together for the rest of our lives.

For eternity.

My heart cried out as he turned away and disappeared into the inky darkness of the forest.