Rock, Paper, Shivers: Act Six and Seven (Bitter Ashes Book 4) Read online

  Rock, Paper, Shivers

  Act Six and Seven of the Vaettir Serialized Dark Fantasy Romance

  ©2015 Sara C. Roethle

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  A Note on Serials:

  Act Six

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Act Seven

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Note From the Author:

  A Note on Serials:

  Serials are a form of fiction set up in “episodes”, or in this case “acts”. Serial fiction is meant to be shorter than novelized fiction, as episodes are released more frequently and at a lower price.

  Act Six

  Chapter One

  I shifted from foot to foot in my brand new, low-heeled boots. The leather of my pants creaked slightly, making my pulse quicken since I was supposed to be quiet. I was never letting Alaric choose my clothing again. The simple, long-sleeved black top was a little more practical, but it didn't matter since it was covered by my stolen, knee-length black coat.

  My long hair threatened to come loose from the braid I'd put it in as the chilly, Norway wind buffeted against me. I looked over my shoulder, anxious for Alaric and Sophie to finish procuring whatever final supplies we might need so we could head back to the woods where we'd left James.

  My anxiety doubled as I thought about James. Sophie had knocked him unconscious, but apparently she'd knocked him too hard, because he didn't remember a thing. While his amnesia complicated things, I guiltily hoped that his memory would remain lost, then I wouldn't have to tell him that I'd killed his grandmother. On the other hand, I didn't enjoy acting as though I actually liked him.

  He'd been so confused when he woke, knowing who and what he was, but little else, that we'd all agreed a little bit of pretend was in order. His most recent memories occurred over thirty years ago, so he wouldn't understand if we all just let our hatred shine through.

  I braced myself against a particularly forceful gust of wind, thinking that maybe it would be nice to lose that much memory. James didn't remember killing Sophie's lover, and he didn't remember all of the people he had tortured. Heck, he didn't even remember torturing me.

  I jumped as two dark shapes appeared on either side of me, then tried to quiet my breathing as Sophie and Alaric hurried me away from the store they'd just robbed. They each had brand new black backpacks slung over their shoulders.

  “You know,” Sophie whispered, “the look-out is supposed to actually pay attention.”

  “I was,” I whispered back. “It's not my fault you two move as quietly as cats.”

  I glanced at Alaric to see his pale face grinning in the moonlight. He got a kick out of petty thievery. I guess after living five-hundred years, you had to take your thrills where you could find them.

  I looked down to hide my frown as we made our way through the quiet streets. We still hadn't talked about the possibility that I might love him, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to. I had been put on the spot by James' grandmother, Diana. She needed a woman to sacrifice the man she loved for her evil plan to come true, and she'd assured us that I did, in fact, love Alaric, even if I hadn’t yet concluded the notion.

  The whole scheme didn't work out well for Diana, who'd ended up ripped to pieces by reanimated corpses on my orders. It also hadn't worked out well for the Norn who'd stood witness, but I had a feeling that the Norn had intended to die all along. She'd died to release the charm, which now rested against my throat, secured by a length of leather cord.

  I felt oddly attached to the little black key that was rumored to give one of the Vaettir the power to rule. It could give them that power, but there was a catch. The charm was a tool of chaos. It wanted war and conquest. I was going to give the charm what it wanted, if only to ultimately destroy it.

  For a moment I thought I felt the charm pulsing with energy, as if it had read my thoughts, then we reached the edge of civilization, and it was all I could do to keep up as Sophie and Alaric began to run.

  They darted over the snow and around trees, as agile as cats. It was an accurate analogy, given they were Bastet, descended from the cat-headed goddess of war. To anyone listening, they would only hear my clumsy footfalls, as my companions were as quiet as they were quick.

  After a time I slowed, then stopped all together and hunched over, trying to catch my breath. Alaric circled back around to me as Sophie continued on. Within seconds, she was out of sight.

  Alaric grinned down at me, flashing his dainty, feline fangs, then scooped me up in his arms. He began to run effortlessly with me in his grasp.

  Heat was radiating from my body despite the cold, making my usually useful heavy coat a bit of a hindrance. I looked up at Alaric's face, which didn't look strained or flushed at all, and suddenly felt greatly inadequate. Sophie, Alaric, and James were all unnaturally strong, with way more endurance than I'd ever have. There was no Vaettir prerequisite that said you needed supernatural grace and strength, and in fact, many of the Vaettir were just as weak as me. It was just my luck that I'd ended up with three of the stronger ones.

  Alaric had explained to me that his talents were all physical. He did have some innate magic, but most of his skills were expressed through his body. I, on the other hand, had magic. I could suck the remaining life force out of dead bodies, and use it to either maim, or heal. I was actually pretty scary in the magic department, but in a fist fight, I was shit out of luck.

  Alaric slowed as we reached our campsite where Sophie was already waiting with James. What I could see of James' face by the light of the campfire was morose. His elbows were on his knees, while his hands propped up his chin. He sighed as he rolled his near-white eyes up to us, then let his chin-length, golden hair fall forward in defeat.

  Sophie snorted in irritation, then began to unroll her previously stolen sleeping bag. Her new black backpack rested beside her, and I couldn't help but wonder what it contained. We had already stolen clothing, camping supplies, and food. What else was there?

  Alaric let me down to my feet, then nudged me playfully with his shoulder. “Let's go get some firewood,” he suggested.

  I nodded and followed him as he walked away. I eyed the backpack still slung over his shoulder with interest as I caught up to his side. The backpack blended in with the black of his clothing, but still looked somehow out of place. It made him seem younger, like a teenager on his way home from school, only most high schoolers weren't 6'2” and well muscled, and they didn't look at you with their dark eyes like they were thinking about eating you.

  “So,” I began as we ventured further into the darkness, “about what happened with Diana . . . ”

  “You're regretting killing her?” Alaric joked, avoiding the actual subject I was attempting to broach.

  I rolled my eyes. “I'm referring to what happened before that.”

  Alaric crouched down to gather a few branches for the fire, and I suddenly wished I hadn't brought up the subject at all.

  I took a deep breath as I looked down at his dark hair. I knew that it was unbelievably soft, and had the sudden urge to run my fingers through it, but I resisted.

  “When I said that I loved you, I was put on the spot,” I blurted out quickly. “I'm not really sure how I feel. I'm not even sure how much I like you. You did let me get tortured, after all. I just don't want the
idea of love hanging in the air like some big, foreboding thing that we're both avoiding talking about.”

  I took in a loud rush of air. I hadn't expected my words to tumble out so haphazardly, and now I felt frozen in fear as I waited for him to reply.

  He smiled and stood back up, firewood in hand. “I see you've been holding on to some things,” he joked. “Has it really been bothering you?”

  “Yes,” I answered quickly, “or no.” I took another deep breath, then explained, “I just thought we should talk about it.”

  “And you want to know if I love you back,” he finished.

  “No!” I exclaimed, though really I did. “I just wanted to be clear on the fact that if I love you, it's in some weird, twisted, Stockholm Syndrome type of way.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Isn't that the one where captives begin to love their kidnappers?”

  I blushed. “Well you did kidnap me.”

  He cringed. “I was acting on orders.”

  I shook my head, then continued walking. “Be that as it may, I'm not about to just blindly love you without taking into account everything we've been through.”

  “So you do love me?” he asked from behind me. Before I could answer, he caught up to my side and tugged on the end of my braid playfully.

  He let go of my hair and brushed my shoulder as he walked ahead of me to where I assumed there was more firewood. I, for one, couldn't see anything, but Alaric also possessed the night vision of a cat, in addition to other things.

  I reached his side again and stopped while he picked up more wood. “That's not what I meant,” I replied crankily. “I just meant that I'm not some silly, naïve girl that falls in love despite all of the evidence that the guy might not be good for her.”

  Alaric stood and looked down at me with a strange expression.

  “What?” I asked, when he didn't speak.

  He sighed. “Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe you might not be good for me?”

  My jaw dropped in surprise. “How so?”

  “Well, Madeline,” he began in a lecturing tone. “Since we met, I abandoned my home, became a fugitive, almost got sacrificed by you, and now I'm about to risk my life to start a war because you want to destroy that little key around your neck. I think you've been much worse for me than I have for you.”

  My pulse began to race as I digested what he'd said. I knew that most of it hadn't been my fault, at least not directly, but he had gone through a lot by simply being associated with me.

  He began walking again, and I had to jog to catch up with him. “Then why even pursue me at all?” I asked weakly.

  He stopped and flashed a lascivious smile. “Because I like things that are bad for me.”

  My mouth went dry as he dropped the firewood he'd been carrying and closed the distance between us.

  “But do you love them?” I managed to say.

  “Perhaps,” he said slyly as he reached his hand up to cradle my jaw, “but I would be loathe to admit it, especially after they've worked so hard to convince themselves that they don't love me in return.”

  He leaned down and kissed me before I could say anything in reply. I kissed him back, not sure if our conversation had actually accomplished anything. I had a feeling that it hadn't, but at that moment, I didn't really care.

  Alaric pulled one hand away to unzip and reach into the backpack behind him. A moment later his hand returned to hook something onto the side of my belt.

  I pulled away from the kiss and looked down to find a huge hunting knife at my hip. I looked back up to meet his eyes. “Are we planning on stabbing people?” I asked in surprise.

  He quirked his lip into a crooked, half-smile. “Hopefully not, but as the saying goes, 'Speak softly, and carry a big stick.'”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Or in this case, complain loudly, and carry a big knife?”

  His expression turned thoughtful, then he nodded. “Something like that, now come here.”

  He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. Sophie and James were probably running out of wood for the fire, but my concern over the situation was minimal. My greatest concern at that moment was the man holding me close, looking devilish with his long, black hair, and eyes that had at some point shifted to feline.

  Chapter Two

  I pulled away from Alaric at the sound of shouting. Sophie's voice rang out clear in the night, while James' was a mere murmur in reply.

  Alaric rolled his eyes. “Even with his memory gone, they're still fighting.”

  I took a step back, feeling silly for getting absorbed into a makeout session literally seconds after trying to explain to Alaric that I didn't love him.

  “We should probably get back before their arguing alerts the police and any Vaettir looking for us,” he continued.

  I didn't argue, and instead waited while he regathered his firewood, then followed him as he led the way back to our campsite, glad that he couldn't see my blush.

  We still had no idea if the cops were even after us, but we'd decided to play it safe and stay out of sight. We had left several dead bodies in our hotel room just three nights before, and while normally, we'd need to be extremely worried, there was actually a good chance that the local Doyen, or clan leader, had cleaned the whole thing up.

  I never would have given the Vaettir that much credit, except it wouldn't be the first time a Doyen kept me away from the law. There should have been questions when I accidentally took the life of one of my foster parents, but the questions never came. It was only years later, after I was kidnapped and brought to the Salr, that I found out the truth.

  However, this time there were multiple bodies instead of one, and we had no idea what had happened between Diana, James, and the police when Alaric, Sophie, and I had made a run for it. We likely never would know, unless James regained his memory or Diana miraculously came back to life.

  I stumbled across felled branches and rocks as we went, feeling tired and hungry. I'd been so worried about getting my convoluted point across to Alaric that I hadn't realized how far we'd walked to find firewood.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when the campfire came back into view, a tiny beacon of light in the darkness. I could no longer hear Sophie and James arguing, and as we approached I saw that they now sat on opposite sides of the fire, not meeting each other's eyes.

  Alaric walked ahead of me to dump the extra firewood near James, then went to sit by his sister. Feeling embarrassed about how long we'd been gone, and a little bad for James in his current state, I took a seat next to him instead of the others.

  He turned and gave me a sad smile. I almost reached out and patted his shoulder in encouragement, then reminded myself that he was still James, the man who had stabbed me and enjoyed it, even if he didn't remember it. He didn't deserve my sympathy.

  Feeling uncomfortable, I scooted a little bit away from him so that I had an area all to myself.

  After several moments of awkward silence, Alaric turned to his sister and asked, “Was there a reason you were trying to alert anyone within a five mile radius of our presence?”

  Sophie scowled, then gestured at James with a sharp nod. “Mother Theresa over there thinks that we should make peace with the local clan so we can all live happily ever after.”

  James frowned and looked down at the fire, obviously not wanting to argue with Sophie any further.

  I rolled my eyes. “It's not the most absurd idea, especially for someone who has no clue what's going on.”

  “If he has no clue what's going on,” Sophie added.

  I stared back at her, confused.

  “She thinks I'm faking,” James explained.

  “Ah,” Alaric cut in. “Well that explains the yelling.”

  I shivered and scooted a little closer to the fire. Even though the area we'd chosen was well-sheltered by trees, the earth was still damp from residual snowfall. The moisture was yet to soak through the leather pants, but it was still cold.r />
  “It's something he would do,” Sophie muttered.

  Everyone was silent again.

  “It doesn't change our plan either way,” I said finally. “Tomorrow we contact the local Vaettir, and we take over.”

  “You say that so casually,” Sophie commented hotly, “like we aren't about to all risk our lives on the slim chance that you can make the charm work to your advantage. That's if we can even get the locals to talk instead of jumping straight to killing us.”

  “Do you have a better plan?” I sighed, knowing for a fact that she didn't.

  She crossed her arms and glared at me. “No, but I'd like you to take things seriously.”

  “You're not my case worker anymore,” I snapped, “and I'm no longer a scared teenager hoping for some worthwhile advice. I know you're unhappy with this whole situation, and I know you're hurt that Maya betrayed you after you risked your life for her, but neither of those things are my fault. Stop taking your bad mood out on me.”

  Alaric grinned as he watched our exchange, but made no move to cut in. James looked down at his feet miserably.

  Sophie took a deep breath. “You're right, I'm sorry,” she replied, sounding pained. “We will contact the natives, and little, meek Madeline will assert herself as their omnipotent leader.”

  I bit my lip at her sarcasm, but let it go.

  “The natives are already here,” came a heavily accented female voice from behind where Alaric and Sophie sat.

  All of us except for James jumped to our feet in unison. He stayed sitting, a scared expression on his face. Either he wasn't faking his memory loss, or he was an exceptional actor, because the James I knew never looked scared.

  Three people stepped forward out of the darkness. Two stood beside Sophie, and the third beside Alaric. I assumed the person standing beside Alaric had been the one to speak, as she was the only female of the group. At first I thought we might stand a fighting chance, then several more shapes came into view.

  “I assume you are the ones who killed our people at the hotel, though I was told there were five of you,” the woman who'd initially spoken continued.