A Valley of Darkness (A Shade of Vampire #52)(47)

Hansa’s fine. Fiona’s with her.

Or was it the other way around?

I’d angered Hansa last night. I knew I was the reason she’d chosen to go with Fiona on this mission. We’d gotten close again, and I’d pushed her away.

Again.

Sure, it wouldn’t have been wise to leave Fiona on her own, given that she was still one of the younglings in a foreign world. But Fiona’s strength alone made me worry less about her. She was a ruthless vampire, despite her petite frame. She could break down walls with a single punch.

I mean, come on…

Hansa was even more awe-inspiring. She’d once led an army of rogue succubi to war. She’d ruled over the Red Tribe for centuries. Her sword skills were the stuff of legend. Hansa was a mighty warrior, forged in dozens of battles. Of course she’d be perfectly fine on her own. It was one of the key features that drew me to her in the first place.

Her strength.

Then came her beauty. Those curious emerald eyes with flakes of gold that twinkled whenever she looked at me. Her soft, pinkish lips begging to be kissed, even when she was angry and perfectly ready to snap my neck in two. That long black hair, pouring down her back in seemingly endless curls. Every line, every curve, every inch of delicate skin with silvery shine had been designed to seduce. I often found myself staring at her, holding my breath whenever she was sparring with her sister, unable to take my eyes off her. She was one of the best fighters I’d ever come across, and I’d seen my share of capable warriors.

I found the perfect spot on the wall and pulled the metal pick I’d borrowed from one of the city blacksmiths out of my backpack. I carved a hole and stuffed the satchel in there. I stilled for a moment, feeling the ground rumble beneath me. The mountain seemed to be reacting to Patrik’s spell preparations.

My mind was restless. I leaned my back against the wall, staring at the beach for a while. My stomach dropped as the memory of my first encounter with Hansa came back. The moment I met her I knew I was done for. I remembered feeling my heart pump faster, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Her deep, raspy voice had pulled strings inside me that I’d completely forgotten existed. The way she smirked when she drew her sword before charging Destroyers made my blood rush.

Hansa is no ordinary succubus, I’d thought to myself at the time. She’s a phenomenon. A hurricane of cataclysmic proportions, and I’m perfectly okay with standing in the eye of this storm.

I had already been having trouble concentrating with her around when Jovi’s poisoned arrow hit her. Azazel’s control spell had pushed Aida’s brother into nearly killing Hansa, and I’d lost it. As that battle unfolded, all I wanted to do was find a way to save her. Every moment had been torture for me, until Viola showed up and removed the arrow and the toxins from her body, letting me breathe again. I’d developed feelings for Hansa, and I had no control over them whatsoever. It had dawned on me then, when she’d stood up and jumped back into the fight, beheading Goren and avenging her tribe. I was falling for her, so hard and so fast, that it was bound to end in a disaster.

I got scared. I’d almost lost her that day, and I flaked.

It wasn’t in my nature, but I had a rich and dark history as far as relationships were concerned. The one time I fell in love with a Mara, I wound up being the one to execute her for draining Bajangs of their blood. Our laws were strict, and I had an entire city to lead. Kateri didn’t even feel sorry for what she’d done. She smirked as she kneeled before the people of White City. She said she’d do it all over again. It broke my heart. I cried as I brought my sword down.

It took me years to forget her. Decades to look around me again, to wonder if I’d find someone. Not long after that, I met Dayana, the daughter of a respected Bajang tribe chief on the southeastern shore of Antara. I’d been exploring the region at the time, training my wards in the field. Azazel had yet to emerge, and those parts of Calliope were riddled with wild and vicious creatures. Dayana had been, by all definitions, love at first sight.

She was fierce and inquisitive, daring and stubborn. She was the first creature I ever did Pyrope with, my first taste of non-animal blood. It became a part of our love-making ritual, and I lived to make her purr in my arms every night. Her father had even agreed to let us join our lives as soulmates. Azazel’s Destroyers raided that part of the shore less than a month before our marriage ceremony. They caught us by surprise. It was then that I met creatures who were more resilient to my mind-bending abilities. I tried to steer the beasts away on my own, but I wasn’t strong enough. By the time my wards emerged from the woods, back from their training expedition, the Destroyers had already leveled the Bajang tribe. They found me facedown in the water, my back riddled with arrows, and Dayana dead on the shore, a poisoned spear lodged in her chest. It took a lot of blood to heal my physical wounds, but nothing could fix what Dayana’s loss had broken in me.

Another century went by. By then, Azazel had grown stronger, but we’d managed to hold out in White City, taking advantage of the surrounding woods of the northwestern shore and our large numbers to launch collective mind-bending attacks against intruders. It worked for a while. We even helped save a couple of rogues running from Destroyers—including Augusta, a young Lamia who’d managed to slither out of a prisoner convoy just ten miles away from us.

Augusta was the last time I ever allowed myself to feel something, to even hope for love. Two months after I brought her back to White City, she got word that her sister had been captured and dragged back to Luceria. Azazel had a thing for Lamias—one of them, after all, had run off pregnant with his offspring. Tamara and Eva were safe by the River Styx at the time, but Augusta’s sister wasn’t. I begged her not to go after her. I knew I’d never see her again. Azazel was at his most vicious at the time, killing left and right like it was no big deal. It would take him another century to relax and underestimate Draven’s existence, then experience defeat and death.