Book 2 Viktoria Ch 01

Thank you to everyone who has contacted me asking about the series and when the next story would be posted.

Ember has gone through some major revisions, but the new version hasn’t been uploaded here. I reworked the entire series and incorporated a bit more mythology, so the way Ember manifests her strygoi appearance will be a surprise.

This story overlaps with Ember’s, in that it starts when Viktoria and Jael meet the night of the gallery show.

For everyone worried about Musette, she has her own story in the series. She doesn’t wake up yet, although you will find out more about her situation. Nobody has forgotten her, and the stories until she does wake up are all intertwined, so you will see everyone working towards a solution for her.

I’ll post the stories with the number they should be read in from now on. Ember should be 1. Nadya/Nadia was meant to be a spinoff and separate from this series, but if it’s going to be read in order, it’s fitting in around 8 at the moment.

Sorry for any confusion there might be, but a few people wanted the next story, so here it is. :)

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Viktoria hesitated outside the door, her hand on the knob, knowing when she went in she would have to make a life or death decision.

Taking a deep breath, she threw the door open and looked over the selection of dresses hanging all around her. The gallery show with Ember started in a couple hours she and lamented there was no time for shopping. A girl could always use another dress. Where a girl could put another dress was a different problem. This ‘closet’ was actually two large rooms she had remodeled into one large space for her dresses, and resembled a boutique. Maybe her dresses needed their own place to live.

There were floor length gowns, sexy cocktail dresses, a shocking number of ‘little black dress’ options, barely-there dresses, and sun dresses. There were dresses in the latest styles, and some that looked like they were from other centuries. Everything was arranged in a rainbow of colors, if a rainbow could be in a myriad of shades of light and dark. The colors went from black to gray, to silver, to white.

She didn’t have a thing to wear.

Closing her eyes, she ran her hand along a row hangers and stopped at random. Unhooking the chosen hanger from the clothes rod she held up her choice and smiled. This little black dress was an intricate tangle of little more than strings on top that led to a tight, floor length skirt with slits up the sides, and it was perfect for the playful mood that had come over her.

She stepped into the skirt and arranged the myriad of strings over her upper body. Some strings she let dangle and lay where they fell. The strings she had to arrange with more care she held in place with body glue. It always took forever to put this dress on, but it was worth it.

<><><><><>

Viktoria looked up as Ember walked into the gallery, set a garment bag down, and went from photo to photo to make sure everything was perfect. Of course, everything was. This wasn’t their first show together, or their first showing at this gallery. Michel, the owner, knew what they liked and expected. With the percentage he took of the prices their work commanded, he was happy to accommodate them. Viktoria smiled. Ember still checked everything every time, like some sort of good luck ritual.

“Ember,” she called as she approached the other woman.

Ember hugged her. “Viktoria.”

A jolt ran through her when Ember touched her, and the word ‘Soră!’ sang in excitement in her mind. It was Ember’s voice, but the inflection and accent were nothing she’d heard from her friend before. It sounded like someone else using Ember’s voice. The word itself was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time—she’d never heard it before, but somehow she knew it meant ‘sister’.

Ember stiffened and pulled back. When her gaze met Viktoria’s, her eyes were full of questions, and maybe hope.

Viktoria kept her smile in place and gave no indication she’d heard or felt anything. Ember had not been herself lately. When she’d called to make sure Viktoria received the final photo for their showing, late, her friend sounded distracted and distraught. Ember was always sure of herself, and never late with her photographs, aware Viktoria needed time to paint. And now Ember was able to touch her with magic and project thoughts into her head?

What had she gotten herself mixed up in? Viktoria never had the feeling Ember was even the slightest bit interested in the ‘other’ world. If anyone, she’d thought it would be Musette with her ‘feelings’ who might be drawn to it.

“You look marvelously monochromatic,” Ember said.

As usual, Viktoria was a study in dark and light. Her long, platinum blonde hair was perfectly straight and fell down her back, contrasting against the series of black strings she wore, and her pale blue eyes were set off by dark eye makeup.

Viktoria smiled. “Thank you, darling.” She spun in a circle to show off the the intricate array of strings and the slits in the side of her dress. “You are looking...” She stopped and peered at her friend. “Horrendously haggard.”

Ember gave her a wan smile. “You always know just the right thing to say to make me feel better.”

“What’s wrong? Where’s Musette?” Ember’s twin had never missed an event before.

“Musette... had an accident. She can’t be here tonight. I may have to leave if there’s a change in her condition.”

Viktoria took Ember’s hands, prepared to feel another jolt, but none came. Just a sense of elation that was Ember, but somehow not Ember at the same time. “Of course, darling, whatever you need. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No. It’s a matter of waiting right now.”

They walked the rest of the show together, their tour ending in front of the photo of the sunrise Ember had been late getting to Viktoria.

“Viktoria, you’ve outdone yourself,” Ember said as she looked at the painting Viktoria had created. For every sunrise and sunset Ember photographed in full color, Viktoria created a painting of the same scene that captured its shadows and darkness.

“Thank you. Now, let’s see what I can do about you. What did you bring to wear?” It was Musette’s job to make Ember presentable since she didn’t care much how she looked, but in Musette’s absence Viktoria would have to take over.

Ember waved a hand at the garment bag she’d draped over a chair. Viktoria scooped the bag up and took Ember’s hand, leading her into the room the gallery owner always set aside for them.

“Tell me what’s happened.” Viktoria swept Ember’s flame-colored hair into an updo. “There’s a man at the root of all this, I know it.”

Ember smiled. “His name is Stryx. He’s...”

“Let me guess.” Viktoria laughed. “Complicated?”

Ember snorted. “If only it was so simple as ‘complicated’. He’s paradoxical and cryptic and bewildering and such an alpha male. I’m told he can learn, but he frustrates me to the point I feel like throwing him through a wall. At the same time, he’s the only man I want. But we’re such opposites, how would it ever work?”

Viktoria laughed. “Look around, darling. People pay us obscene amounts of money because we show them opposites go together. Light needs shadow as much as shadow needs light.”

As their guests arrived, Viktoria kept an eye on Ember, who was still not acting like herself. She saw it the second Ember tensed. A man with shoulder-length black hair and dark blue eyes had entered the gallery. Three more men followed him in and took up positions around the room, their eyes scanning the crowd.

This must be the paradoxical alpha Ember wanted to throw through a wall, no doubt, along with an entourage. Viktoria narrowed her eyes as Stryx crossed the room and grabbed Ember’s arm in a proprietary grip. Ember yanked away from him, but Stryx took hold of her elbow again.

Viktoria excused herself from the group around her and walked to Ember. “Get your hands off her.”

Stryx growled at her and his eyes darkened from blue to almost black.

Really, Ember, a vampire? Do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into?

Stryx acted as though she wasn’t there. “I just need a minute of your time,” he said to Ember.

“And then you’ll leave?” Ember’s tone sounded resigned.

“I would like to stay.”

Viktoria stepped closer, forcing Stryx to pay attention to her. “Who is she to you?”

He only hesitated a moment. “She is my queen.”

Viktoria laughed. “And who are you to her? Let’s see, if she’s the queen that would make you the overbearing emperor, I suppose.”

“I am her servant

Viktoria wasn’t expecting that answer, and judging by the startled look on Ember’s face she hadn’t been either. Viktoria eyed Styx up and down, trying to decide if he meant it. Deciding he did, she raised an eyebrow at Ember. “Maybe he can learn.”

Stryx frowned. When he reached for Ember this time he extended his hand instead of grabbing her arm. “I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Ember didn’t take his hand. “Talk to me about or order me about?” She leveled a glare at Stryx.

“I think you will be interested in what I have to say, but I want to talk to you alone. Please.”

Ember smirked and slid her hand into Stryx’s. “I didn’t know you knew that word.”

When Ember took his hand, Stryx’s posture relaxed. He drew an unprotesting Ember to him and slid his arm around her waist. “Show me around?”

“Do you need a bodyguard?” Viktoria asked.

Ember smiled. “No, I’ll be all right.”

“I meant him.”

Ember laughed, and led her vampire away.

So, there were vampires in Port Storm and Ember’s new complication was one of them. Feeling someone watching her, Viktoria turned and made her way back to the group of people she’d just left. She ran her gaze over everyone in the room nodding or giving flirty winks to those she knew, until her eyes came to rest on a man lounging against a wall. No one around him seemed to notice he was there.

But Viktoria noticed him.

He was one of Stryx’s vampires. He had a swarthy complexion and piercing black eyes. His black hair was long enough to wear tousled, and either he had the tips of wings jutting up on either side of his neck, not likely for a vampire, or he was armed with two swords on his back. Who came to a gallery showing armed with swords?

He studied the crowd of people, appraising each patron and moving on to the next. If Viktoria hadn’t been watching him as closely as he was watching the others she would have missed the slight widening of his eyes and the surprised expression that flitted across his face when his eyes met hers.

Amused at his surprise and unwilling to back down, Viktoria maintained the eye contact. At least, she did until something else appeared in his eyes—something that looked a lot like interest in her. That would not do.

She let herself be diverted by a man who touched her arm. The vampire snarled as she turned to give this new man her full attention. Oh, that would not do at all.

“Are you the photographer?” The question was innocent enough, but the man’s tone was flat and told her he was not interested in her answer. He smiled, or rather his face moved to form itself into the approximation of one. It seemed more like he had just put on a mask, his face frozen in an expression he was unaccustomed to wearing. He wore his blond hair slicked back and his mud brown eyes held no warmth. The edges of black tattoos were a stark contrast to his pale skin, and not quite hidden by the collar and rolled up sleeves of his button-down shirt. The parts she could see looked like the ends of legs tipped in claws, and fangs.

He took her hand and she repressed a shudder as the sensation of something with multiple claw-tipped legs skittered over the skin of her wrist and up her arm. She forced herself not to look down, and her smile was bright, but fake, as she extracted her hand from the man’s grip. “No. I’m Viktoria, the painter.”

“I’m a friend of Musette’s.” The man’s eyes flicked to her wrist before he met her gaze again. “Name’s Tom.”

Viktoria resisted the urge to glance at her wrist herself and raised an eyebrow at him. Any friend of Musette’s would know her sister, the photographer, was also her twin. “Hello, Tom. Have you come to see the photos paired with the paintings? I think we still have a few sets that haven’t sold yet.”

Tom’s pretend smile widened, but it felt like a predator opening its maw, not an indication of amusement or friendship. “Well, I was really hoping to see Musette. I thought she’d be here tonight. Do you know if she’ll be here later?”

“The night’s still young.” Viktoria flashed him another brilliant, fake smile. “I suppose anything is possible.” Someone waved at her from across the room. “Please excuse me. I must see to some other guests. Enjoy the refreshments. If I see Musette I’ll tell her Tom was looking for her.”

As she crossed the room, now two sets of eyes tracked her every movement.

<><><><><>

Ember begged off their traditional after-showing drink and left with Stryx and one of his vampires hours before the show was due to end. With Ember’s time dominated by her scowling, growling vampire, their guests had flocked to Viktoria, and she hadn’t had a chance to tell Ember about the man claiming to be Musette’s friend before he disappeared.

The third vampire had left at some point, but the fourth one stayed, his eyes settling on her more often than she liked. He didn’t crowd her with his body, although he could have. He was tall and powerfully built. He crowded her with his presence. He was everywhere in the room at once, and she knew that he knew that she knew he was there, even while she pretended he wasn’t.

He was attractive and Viktoria felt drawn to him. He might be fun to play with, if it wasn’t for the vampire thing. They were hard to get rid of once you let one in, especially one with that look, a look that spoke of desire and possession, in his eyes.

She’d seen the exact expression directed at herself and her sisters many times. They’d all been lusted after by men who thought of them as trophies or prizes, and didn’t care whether the women they coveted wanted them in return. Their mother would deal with them by setting the men impossible tasks to win the hands of her daughters. A few times men had gone so far as to kidnap them. She smiled. That was usually fun for a little while, but it never ended well for the men.

Viktoria liked her life here in Port Storm. She adored Ember and Musette, and her work with Ember fulfilled her. She didn’t want to have to leave everything she’d built here behind because a vampire couldn’t accept he was a dalliance and not a life choice. Where there were four, there was a good chance there were more, perhaps an entire Vitiate. They wouldn’t be moving on if that was the case, so she might have to.

When the showing ended Viktoria decided to walk home. She didn’t live far from the gallery, and she liked walking along the ocean at night. The vampire followed her. She thought he might. He wasn’t obvious about it, trying to stay out of sight in the shadows.

A smile played on her lips. She could show him a thing or two about shadows. They were the opposite of where he should be hiding if he didn’t want her to see him. She turned a corner and stepped into a shadow, letting it fold to hide her from view.

The vampire rounded the corner moments later and paused right in front of her.

She wondered what to do about him, if she needed to do anything about him at all. She could let him meet her mother. That usually took care of any over-amorous Lotharios. There was really only one reason she could think of he would be following her. Ember had become involved with a vampire, but that didn’t mean Viktoria wanted to be. Although... she could think of one use she had for him.

The vampire inhaled.

He was tracking her by scent. Her perfume!

Without making a sound she untied the string holding her tiny evening bag closed and removed a small bottle of the same scent she was wearing.

The vampire stalked away, moving further down the street and Viktoria got her first glimpse of the pair of the short, curved blades he wore on his back. She’d seen plenty of men wearing swords before, but none projected the air of ‘lethal’ quite like this one.

Viktoria slipped off her stilettos and set the bottle of perfume on the ground. She uncapped it and stepped out of the shadow, sliding back around the corner and across the street to some stairs that led down to the beach.

The ocean could mask her scent.

She carried her shoes in one hand, gathered her long skirt up by her thighs with the other and let the tide bring its waves to wash over her legs as she ran along the shore.

JAEL

Jael had watched Stryx go crazy for days trying to find a way to appease his Draga after the spectacular disaster he’d made of the start of their relationship. Their could-be King had been taken unawares, first by finding his Draga, then by her becoming a strygoi—something he had no power over.

Stryx was relentless when he wanted something though, and he craved Ember. He was a tactician and a hunter. Jael knew he was thinking of a plan to get his witch back, so was not surprised when Stryx announced he would be attending the showing of Ember’s photographs at an art gallery.

“I’m going. You’re all staying,” Stryx said as he headed for the garage.

Jael ignored that and kept pace with him. “You can’t go alone. It’s that simple.”

“You can’t all come with me,” Stryx said to the nine vampires around him. “She’ll think it’s an invasion.”

Jael smirked. “She won’t throw us into a wall, though.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.” Stryx scoffed.

“You shouldn’t be going at all. And neither should she.” Melchior added his opinion. “The mages will want her back.”

Stryx snarled. “They will never touch her again.”

“That doesn’t mean they won’t try,” Jael said.

Stryx capitulated. “Three of you can come.”

“How is Musette?” Jael asked as they resumed their trip to the garage.

“You know Ember won’t tell me anything about her sister.” Stryx heaved a sigh. “I can feel her worry, though. Musette hasn’t awakened. She’s in some sort of stasis.”

<><><><><>

Jael stood with his back to the wall as he scanned the crowd in the gallery. Melchior and Zeke were watchful from their places on other walls. Here they were, in spite of the fact that mages might still be looking for Ember.

No, with the way she had escaped from them three times, twice with her twin, and left dead minions and a missing mage in her wake, there was no question the mages would be looking for her. Coming here—a place where not only was Ember expected, but it had been publicized she would be for weeks, was the height of stupidity.

Granted she was strygoi now, and a magnificent one at that. She’d been fierce in her defense of Ciaran, and after she’d changed into War, she’d even stood against Idris and himself, sparring with both of them at the same time in Selene’s tower. He smiled as he remembered how she’d tossed Styx into a wall. None of them would ever dare treat him like that. He was next in line to be their King, and they had all raised him that way after they escaped the Draga massacre in Dacia.

They hadn’t had the heart to rein the boy in after what he’d witnessed, and Selene had been left catatonic after a combination of losing her vampire, their King, and what it took out of her to use enough magic to create their new place and move them all so far from Dacia at once. Jael’s smile faded. Even the most powerful strygoi, especially the most powerful strygoi, had fallen.

He shook his head to clear the bleak thoughts away and took a moment to admire some of the photographs and paintings. Ember’s photos of sunrises and sunsets evoked something in him he’d long thought buried. What spoke to him even more than Ember’s work was the other artist’s. Her paintings were all shades of shadow, something he could understand. He’d walked into the shadows over three thousand years ago and never looked back.