Dark Shadow Page 2

  Immediately their faces took on a mien of indifference; their noses in the air, their wings, if they had them, tucked securely down their backs, their lips curved into soft but empty smiles.

  Aliath crossed the throne room floor, slowing as he registered the tension in the air, until he came to a halt before the Queen. He bowed low. She ignored him. Silence reigned.

  Fuck this.

  I drilled the closest fairy to catch my eye with a little vampire mojo and watched as he started clucking like a chicken. He even had the flapping of his arms down pat.

  Aliath flashed me a warning look. The Queen roused herself enough to meet my gaze.

  There was no way I was glazing that one. She reeked of power. Dark and full of shadows. My own Dark Shadow raised her head and stared back from behind my eyes; interested. Here was one who could make the hackles rise down the back of my vampire-within’s neck.

  The Queen flicked her fingers, and the fairy stopped clucking. I felt manacles wrap around my wrists, but when I glanced down, nothing was there. I surreptitiously tugged on invisible chains. The clanking of their non-existent links sounded loud in the quiet space.

  “You’ve brought me a gift, nephew,” the Queen said. Her voice sounded like chimes; I started to sway.

  “Your Majesty,” Aliath intoned, his own chimes countering his monarch’s, not so much stopping me swaying, but making my body want to sway in the opposite direction to that which the Queen’s chimes demanded.

  Usually, I could brush Aliath’s influence off easily, but it hadn’t been a usual day.

  “My last vampire did prove such a delight, did it not?” the Queen mused, musically.

  I closed my eyes and reached for my Dark Shadow. It wasn’t a natural thing to do. It made me a little sick inside sometimes. Which was just pathetic. Whoever heard of a vampire hating its vampire-within so much that it shied away from using it when needed?

  The Dark Shadow rose up and stretched. I could have sworn I saw her shadow - her actual shadow - ripple against the tall whitewashed walls of the room. Claw tipped hands slashed out; the shadow on the wall swiping in synchrony to my vampire-within’s movements.

  The invisible chain clattered to the floor.

  The Queen sat forward.

  “I follow a lead, my Queen,” Aliath said rather quickly. If he thought distraction would work, he was less intelligent than he’d led me to believe. “The Hundr tracks Isoleth’s spies.”

  The Queen flicked her eyes off me and searched Aliath’s face for something.

  “You use a vampire to hunt my enemies?” she demanded archly.

  “Not just any vampire,” Aliath said, sounding smug. But then, all fairies sounded smug to me.

  The Queen’s vibrant green eyes narrowed, her cupid’s bow lips thinned. A chill invaded the room.

  “Speak!” she shouted.

  Aliath didn’t even flinch.

  “Nothus,” he said simply.

  “Nothus,” the Queen repeated, contemplatively. She sat back on her throne and tapped long, red-lacquered fingernails on the armrests. “Yes,” she said, almost gleefully. “Yes. You are right. This might work.”

  Aliath smiled. It was dazzling. For a moment, I forgot where I was, who I was, why I was even here.

  Then my Dark Shadow surged to the surface, and a low growl sounded out from deep inside my chest.

  The Fey chittered like frightened birds.

  The Queen lowered her chin, stared directly at me, and smiled.

  I was rethinking that saying. Hell wasn’t empty. Hell was Álfheimr.

  And the devil was a silver-haired, green-eyed monster.

  Satan thy name is Sofiq.

  Queen of the Dökkálfa.

  She slowly lifted her hand; a long, red-tipped finger pointed directly at me.

  “My Queen,” Aliath said, an urgency to his tone. “Please do not damage my Hundr.”

  “Damage, nephew? Oh, no,” she purred. “I honour your Nothus with a gift.”

  I stood before her, fear making my eyes widen, my fangs fully extended, the Dark Shadow steely but still inside me.

  “Your Majesty,” Aliath said. “A gift is unnecessary.”

  “I beg to differ,” the Queen said. “In this case, I believe a gift is more necessary than life.”

  She flicked her finger. Sparkles of iridescent light shot out from the tip. Dark dust floated toward me; glinting as though shot through with diamonds. The bolt of power hit me square in the chest.

  I sucked in a breath of air; felt my knees buckle. The room began to blur, the walls warping, the colourful Dökkálfa morphing into childhood bedtime story creatures. Blues and greens and yellows all melding together to make a frightfully gauche looking many-headed snake. Their bodies swaying as if dancing to a charmer’s tune.

  Maybe they were. Maybe the Queen was chiming. I didn't know anymore, because I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t scent. I couldn’t see.

  The room turned black, pain lanced through me.

  But in my mind, I clearly heard Queen Sofiq.

  “You think me incapable of discerning the truth, nephew? You think me unable to see my enemies when dressed up as my kin?”

  “My Queen,” Aliath said, his voice sounding contrite inside my head.

  I’d never heard Aliath speak in such a way. It should have amused me. Instead, I felt sick with worry.

  “Do not fret, nephew. She will be easier to control this way. I give you a boon, Aliath, Prince of Dökkálfa. Do not waste it.”

  I didn't hear Aliath’s reply, but I felt firm arms lift me. Heat coursed through my frozen body. The scent of calming chamomile tea and mouthwatering white chocolate and strawberry cheesecake surrounded me.

  I licked my lips. My fangs snagged on my tongue making me bleed. The blood was mine but tasted delicious. I hissed out a breath and opened my eyes.

  Aliath was carrying me down a dark, narrow corridor, a look of worry etched on his beautiful face.

  “Why compassion, Fairy? Why such regret?” I enquired.

  His bright green eyes flicked down to me. I blinked, unable to look away. Unable to think.

  “I could make you do anything I wanted,” he said in a low growl. “I could make you forget your name. Forget your mate’s name.”

  “I have no mate,” I countered automatically.

  “Don’t you?”

  I scowled at him. He dimmed the vivid light of his eyes and looked ahead to where he was taking me.

  “Do you feel any different?” he asked after a few more steps.

  “I feel fine.” Then why was he carrying me?

  I sprang out of his grasp and landed in a crouch, fangs extended.

  He studied me; a look of pity on his face that made no sense.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  My stomach growled. My fangs ached. I stared hard at the side of his neck.

  “Fairy blood is not conducive to a vampire’s good health or have you forgotten?” he said simply. I knew this, but the hunger I felt made my mind murky.

  “When did you last eat, Georgia?” he asked.

  I racked my fuzzy brain. I’d eaten before we’d left Earth. Taken my fill of a lowlife drug dealer who thankfully didn't partake of his own meth. I’d envisaged not returning to Earth for several days. Days in which a full belly should have held me over.

  How long had we been here? Had time moved so differently for us that the hunger had already begun again?

  “A day has passed,” Aliath said as if reading my mind. “One day in Álfheimr. A week on Earth. But your body is ageing here, not there. You should not require food for another three days at least.”

  “The Queen did something…” I started, my stomach somersaulting.

  “Yes.”

  He would make me ask. Nothing was ever given freely in Álfheimr. Nothing. I already owed him too much. We had an accord. One I had thought I had negotiated well. But it turns out, two months as a half-vampire is not nearly long enough to master the ways o
f supernatural beings.

  Jett no longer wanted me to join his line, but he still wanted me. Damn the machinations of fairies.

  The Dark Shadow raked her claws down the inside of my head.

  “Something’s changed,” I said aloud.

  “Yes,” Aliath replied, not offering me an answer to my problems.

  But then, why would he? He’d got what he wanted already.

  His Hundr was on a short leash.

  Always read the small print when agreeing to anything with a fairy.

  Or, you know, actually have some small print to bind their sparkly arse with.

  I wasn’t going to ask. The last time I’d asked him a question, he’d threatened to lengthen the time of the accord and number of times I had to assist him. The only reason why I’d jumped on this first repayment was because he’d turned up right in the middle of an awkward moment. One I was pretty sure I was lucky to get out of alive.

  The Enforcer had looked mega-scary.

  Aliath stood silent and still before me. His eyes boring into mine as if he could command me mentally to ask the question and be beholden to him for eternity or some such sucky thing. I wasn’t born yesterday, turned maybe, but not born. I’d had a good twenty years or so of dealing with my father’s manipulation; I knew exactly how these types of things went.

  So, I did something I hadn’t done before. I purposely sought out my Dark Shadow and asked her instead.

  Better the devil you know and all that.

  What’s changed?

  So much and so little.

  Can you be more precise?

  I can. Can you?

  It was like dealing with a five-year-old. Not that I had much experience of dealing with five-year-olds. But I was pretty damn sure they’d piss me off as much as she was right now.

  Look, I mentally said, we’re in this together. If the Bitch Queen did something to screw with us, it’s better if we both know what that something is.

  I agree. Look inside. Look carefully.

  I gritted my teeth.

  Such beauty, she said. Such anger. It is red. Do you not like red?

  I used to like blues and yellows and greens. Now I was more of a black and white kind of girl. But she did have a point. That red I could see, could feel, it felt…good.

  Ah, she purred. You see it. You feel it. It is life.

  She wasn’t making much sense. I was hungry. My body ached for some reason. My fangs wouldn’t retract. I needed blood. But that wasn’t what had me so on edge. I reached out for something other than the red. It wasn’t until I couldn’t touch it that I realised why everything felt so wrong and yet, for the Dark Shadow, so very right.

  Where’s my Light? I growled at her.

  Here, she said and threw it at me.

  My back slammed into the wall of the corridor, making tiles and plaster fall to the cold floor. While bones cracked, and pain wracked my frame, and a sound of agony was wrenched from my lips.

  “Little Sparrow,” Aliath said, bending down beside me and cocking his head. “It will take some adjustment,” he added. “But to fight her is to fight yourself.”

  Oh, this was so screwed up.

  Since when had the Dark Shadow wielded my Light so easily? My Light is the part of me that is Nosferatin, vampire hunter, good. My Sanguis Vitam, my blood life force is the part of me that is Nosferatu, vampire, bad. I tried to remember if my Dark Shadow had been able to wield my Light before.

  I came up uncomfortably blank.

  I reached out for my Light, tentatively, carefully. Already imagining the pain. But there was no pain. There was no Light.

  Until my Dark Shadow slowly, purposefully, released it into my care as if offering something special.

  It was special. It was mine. More mine than hers. And yet my Dark Shadow is as much a part of me now as I am.

  Oh, fuck-a-duck. Queen Sofiq was teaching me a lesson. Learn to work with my vampire-within or learn to live without my Light. A gift, she’d said. This was no gift. This was a curse.

  I looked up at Aliath, whose green eyes glowed with something other than iridescent light.

  Do not fret, nephew. She will be easier to control this way. I give you a boon, Aliath, Prince of Dökkálfa. Do not waste it.

  Oh, hell no.

  You and me, I said to the Dark Shadow, are not going to let some silver-haired fairy freak take advantage of this mess.

  Agreed, she said.

  I pushed up from the ground, making Aliath take a step back, and dusted myself off.

  “Blood,” I said. “Human,” I added. “We’re hungry.”

  My Dark Shadow stood up as well, stretching her arms out wide and purring.

  It is good to be free, she said.

  2

  Sadness

  I released the human male I’d been feeding on and licked my lips to be sure I’d tasted all of his blood. Aliath leaned against the brick wall opposite me in the alley. He said nothing, but there was a look on his face that spoke a thousand words.

  He was unhappy.

  “We should return to Álfheimr,” he said.

  “I’m still hungry,” I growled in reply.

  An arched brow and then, “He was your third human.”

  “Take it up with your Queen,” I snapped. “She did this.”

  Aliath’s eyes flashed apple green. Apple green was OK; it was when he reached chartreuse that you had to worry. He was just frustrated.

  I inhaled and confirmed the emotion.

  My eyes narrowed on that thought, but Aliath was winding up for a Nothus whipping, so I diverted all my attention to him.

  “I can’t hunt like this,” I said, cutting him off before he’d even got started. “Go away and come back tomorrow.”

  He blinked at me.

  “One day,” I said. “It’s not much to ask considering what your Queen did. And it’s not like you can’t find me again.”

  “I can. And I will. We have an accord.”

  I almost mimicked him in a sing-song, sarcastic voice. We have an accord. It sucked to be me.

  “I know,” I said.

  “Good,” he said, and then bled into the shadows.

  Huh. I hadn’t thought he’d actually go for that. But maybe the Fey Prince felt sorry for me. It’s not like I’d had a handle on this Nothus thing before Sofiq got involved. And now I was once again a newbie.

  I let out a soft breath of air and checked that the way was clear. The last guy I’d chomped on had fled. Making his escape while he could. Good man.

  So, I thought conversationally, how are we going to fix this?

  Why would we want it to be fixed?

  Because I’m the one who’s meant to handle the Light side of things and you’re, well, you. A Dark Shadow.

  Can you not wield Sanguis Vitam when you wish it?

  Yes, but…

  I should be able to wield Light when I wish it, too.

  That’s not how it goes.

  The Dark Shadow retreated, taking away any access to my Light I’d thought I’d had. Reaffirming her superior position. I reached out and placed a hand on the brick wall to my side, dizziness assailing me. Is this what it had been like for her? Denied my Light and pushed to the back constantly?

  It didn’t sit comfortably with me, but it’s not as if this Nothus thing had come with a manual. I wondered, not for the first time, if other vampires had this sort of love-hate relationship with their vampires-within. Was it always a constant battle for them, too?

  I could have asked someone. Not Lucinda. She’d left for London, and I wouldn’t have turned to her in any case. I was still a little bitter about the whole Goddess interfering in my death thing she’d undertaken. And going to Jett was not at the top of my to-do list. The Master of the City would just try to tell me how much easier it would be once we mated. There was Samson, of course. Not that Samson didn’t want something from me too. But with Samson, I knew he wouldn’t force me, or hold it over my head in exchange for answers.


  But facing Samson after we shared that kiss? No. Not yet. Not ever, if I could help it. It had been a weak moment. My Rogue Sire had just been staked, after trying to bring about my final death. I’d been hyped up on adrenaline and whatever else vampires thrive off when they face death and spit in its face, coming out the victor.

  No. Not gonna go back there in a hurry.

  Fool, the Dark Shadow whispered in my mind.

  I turned my back on the alley I was in; mainly because I couldn’t seem to turn my back on her anymore. What the hell had the Dark Queen done to me? Us. Whatever.

  With no other vampire mentor to turn to and not wanting to dump this all on Kara - again - I trudged back to my apartment, contemplating packing a bag and heading towards South America. But hiding out in an Iunctio free zone would not keep me from the blasted fairy. I needed to find a Dökkálfa free zone instead. Considering Aliath was of royal fairy blood and therefore didn’t need to use a portal to come and go as he pleased meant I was shit out of luck on that front.

  Even if I did go somewhere with fewer fairies, the Herra Lord would still find me.

  I pushed through the doors to my apartment building, feeling a sense of rightness steal over me as the black and white decor surrounded. Inhaling, I catalogued a multitude of scents, each complex and overlaying the other. In a fraction of a second, I’d singled out the signature scents from the emotional ones and homed in on the most recognisable.

  Vanilla, raspberry and allspice.

  I bled into what little shadows there were and flashed up the stairwell, pausing at the top to peer around the edge into the corridor that led to my apartment.

  Detective Mark Anderson stood before my door, writing a note up against the wood. Every now and then he’d shake out the pen, making the ink fall back to the nib. I smirked. Then scowled.

  The last time Mark had been here, he’d not exactly been impressed with me. The fact that I’d just fed from him and then glazed the pizza delivery boy while he watched might have had something to do with it.

  I released the shadows and stepped out onto the landing, clearing my throat.

  Mark spun around, his hand immediately going to his service weapon at his hip.