Zen and the Art of Vampires (28 page)

“Don't count on it,” he said grimly, adjusting the collar of his coat and picking up a hat he must have taken off earlier. Without another word, he turned and strode off.

I looked at my collection of ghosts. They looked back at me, oddly silent. I realized that they were waiting to see whether I was going to abandon them or not.

“Right. I'm not quite sure how we're all going to fit into the car. Especially Ragnar.”

“Don't worry about that,” Ingveldur said with a smile. “We'll all dematerialize.”

“You can do that? Excellent.”

“I'm too old for that sort of foolishness,” Agda said with dignity. “I will ride in the vehicle. I've always wanted to, ever since they started coming to the new village.”

“You rode on the bus with the rest of us,” Hallur pointed out as we started toward the now distant figure of Kristoff.

“It's not the same. I will ride in this mortal car.”

“I want to ride, too,” Dagrun said quickly. “I want to watch
him
.”

There was no doubt whom she was referring to.

Ingveldur rolled her eyes. “You'll be behaving yourself, in that case. I won't have you giving the reaper any difficulties.”

Ulfur patted his horse's nose. “Don't worry about us—I'll ride after you.”

I thought Kristoff was going to kick up a fuss when the ghosts started piling into the car, but as one by one they disappeared—except Agda, Dagrun, and Hallur (who claimed he was there to keep an eye on the two women)—he said nothing, just asked where I thought Alec would be taken.

“The only place I know of that the Brotherhood uses is the church and house behind it. Do you think they'd harm him?”

“Without you? Probably not seriously. They'll wait for their so-called ritual before they kill him,” Kristoff said matter-of-factly.

I opened my mouth to tell him there was no way I'd participate in a ceremony that would bring harm to anyone, let alone the man who had more or less professed his love for me, but Kristoff continued with a curious look cast my way.

“Why did you proceed with the marriage to the sacristan when you knew it was invalid?”

“For one, I don't know that the marriage you forced me into is legal.”

“It is,” he said flatly.

“And for another,” I continued, “I decided that you had a point about them not being happy to see me if they knew I was married to you. Which meant I had no reason
not
to marry Mattias when they pushed the ceremony. Normally I wouldn't do something so underhanded, but . . .” I bit my lip, absently rubbing the welt on my arm where the knife had cut.

“But you realized the end justified the means?” Kristoff gave a sharp nod. “I understand now.”

“No, you don't, because that isn't why I did it. It's confusing. I just thought that I'd like to see a little more about them. I mean, I've heard what you've had to say about the Brotherhood. I've heard what they've said about your people, too, and while both sides seem reasonable, neither one meshes completely. One of you has to be bad, and the other good. I'm just trying to figure out who is who. Unfortunately—oh, crap!”

Kristoff slammed on the brakes as we came upon a traffic backup. While there weren't many cars in line, it was the police cars with flashing lights that sent my heart into my throat.

“What is it? Some sort of a checkpoint?” I asked as Kristoff opened his window and leaned out to see what was happening.

His expression was grim as he sat back down. “Cordon. It's likely they're checking ID for everyone leaving the town.”

“But we're not leaving,” I pointed out.

Kristoff grunted and took a left turn into a bank parking lot. “No, but this road leads out of town. Get out. We'll walk the rest of the way.”

“But I was enjoying the ride,” Agda protested as she crawled out of the backseat.

“Are you sure that's wise?” I asked Kristoff as I got out, noting that the police were also stopping people on the street.

“We don't have much of a choice. This way.” He flipped up the collar of his coat and angled his hat, moving immediately to the side of the street that was in the shade.

The ghosts came back from absolute invisibility to their normal nearly translucent state, trailing behind in an odd sort of train as I followed Kristoff through winding streets. I was worried about an intersection right outside of the church. Five roads met there in a cobblestone square, and the police, if they were searching people, would be sure to have someone there.

Kristoff didn't even pause as we reached the five-cornered intersection. He wrapped one arm around me, pulling me up close to his body, his head angled toward mine as if he was murmuring sweet nothings. The brim of his hat was most effective in blocking the view of our faces. “Do not say anything if they stop us. Just act giddy.”

“That's not going to be any problem,” I answered, the nearness of him suddenly causing memories of the night before to come flooding back with vibrant intensity. My legs felt more than a little wobbly as I breathed in the faintly smoky scent that always seemed to be around him. It reminded me of a fall afternoon, with burning leaves tinting the crisp air.

Two police officers were on our side of the street as we strolled up to the church, the trail of ghosts behind me thankfully not visible to their eyes. Kristoff's mouth touched my ear. I giggled in a loud, high voice, and said very quietly, “I'm going to kiss you. Don't freak out,” before wrapping both arms around him, stopping right in front of a policewoman.

The moment my mouth parted under his I knew I'd made a mistake. What I had intended for the benefit of the cops immediately turned serious as his tongue started bossing mine around in the way that left me mindlessly craving more.

The policewoman said something, amusement rich in her voice.

Kristoff groaned into my mouth when I sucked on his tongue, his hands sliding down to grab my butt.

The policewoman spoke a little louder, muffled laughter coming from her companion.

Hunger and need rose in him again, accompanied by a sexual drive that washed over me like lava. I burned for him, ached for something undefined, something that only he could give me . . . something I could give him . . . it was all so muddled in my head, I couldn't organize my thoughts.

Someone tapped on my shoulder. I broke off the kiss, burying my face in Kristoff's chest as he spoke over my head, a forced lightness in his voice when he answered the policewoman.

I kept my head lowered and angled toward Kristoff, leaning heavily on him as he urged me forward, my cheeks burning with very real consternation. What on earth was I doing? What sort of person was I that I could act that way with him when Alec, the man who a short time ago had professed all sorts of affection for me, had sacrificed himself to ensure I got away safe?

I stumbled as we passed a couple more police officers, but they paid us no attention as Kristoff led me toward the church.

“That's it. I'm going to be a Zorya if it kills me,” Dagrun announced behind me.

“Too late,” Ulfur said cheerfully.

“Are we going to the house or church first?” I asked Kristoff, trying to drag my mind from the horrible well of guilt that filled me to concentrate on the situation with Alec.

Kristoff hesitated outside the front of the church, holding me in an embrace that would have given me pleasure if his eyes hadn't been wandering with calculation over the front of the church. “The house, I think. The church is too public. They'll put him in some sort of cell to hold him for a ritual later.”

“Your ritual?” Dagrun asked me.

I wanted to throttle the little snot.

Kristoff's gaze shifted to me, his eyes narrowing. “What ritual?”

I cleared my throat, shot Dagrun an evil look (she smirked in return), and met Kristoff's flinty gaze. “I'm being sworn in tonight as Zorya. Or whatever the ritual is, exactly.”

“You can't do that,” he said, the familiar frown he usually wore starting to form. “I married you first. The marriage to the sacristan isn't valid.”

“So you say, but since they don't know that, there wasn't any reason I could give them to not have the ceremony tonight.”

Kristoff looked heavenward for a moment, his hands tightening on my shoulders. “Do you have any idea what they will do when they find out what you've done?”

“How are they going to find out? They'll do their ritual tonight, and proclaim me Zorya. I admit I don't like misleading them, especially Mattias, who seems like a nice, if rather misguided, guy, but what harm is it going to do? You yourself just said it's not going to be a valid ceremony, so how can it hurt anyone?”

He started walking to the side of the church, leading me down a narrow street to the house behind, his hand biting into my uninjured arm as he said tersely, “There will come a point where they will expect you to act as Zorya, and when you exhibit no particular powers, they will begin to wonder why. Do not doubt for a moment that their form of ascertaining the answer will be extremely unpleasant for you.”

“I figured I'd just tell them I need some practice, or use some excuse like that. That should buy me a little time, which I'll use to find another Zorya, a real Zorya, who can take the ghosts to Ostri for me.”

“Procrastination is not a solution,” he said stubbornly. “The day will come when the reapers here find out you are a Zorya in name only.”

“Yes, and I plan on being a long way away from here on that day.” I pointed to the house. “The most important thing is to get Alec out. Since they will pretty much attack you on sight, I'll go in and see how things are.”

I started to go to the front door of the house as I spoke, but Kristoff pulled me back.

“That would be foolish in the extreme. You stay here while I get a reaper and find out what they've done with Alec.”

“Oh, no,” I said, grabbing his arm as he started to leave. “I know how that'll end up.”

“Um . . . Pia?” Ulfur said.

“What do you mean?” Kristoff asked, frowning at me.

“You'll torture the truth out of whoever you nab. Go ahead, admit it.”

“Of course I will,” Kristoff said, almost snorting in disgust as he turned back toward the house.

“Pia, I think you really will want to—oh, too late.”

“What?” I asked, turning to see what it was that had Ulfur in such a swivet.

Visible through the ghosts were two men: Frederic and Mattias.

“I believe we can save you the trouble of torturing one of our people,” Frederic said with a misleadingly bland smile.

Kristoff whirled around at the sound of his voice.

“I wish the same could be said of you, but you see, it's not often we have two Dark Ones in our grasp.” Frederic's dark eyes moved to me with an assessing glance. “Not to mention a Beloved.”

“This is absolutely uncalled for. I am, if you recall, the Zorya. I do not expect to be treated like this!”

My exaggerated outrage fell upon deaf ears. Well, almost deaf ears.

“That's telling them,” Ulfur said, giving me a nod of approval.

“Aye, our reaper has spirit. But what is this place?” Hallur asked as the ghosts trooped after me.

“I told you this would happen,” Kristjana almost spat as I was shoved toward a flight of stairs.

“This is the house that the Brotherhood uses,” I said softly to my ghosts.

“Ah. Rather chill here, isn't it?” Hallur rubbed his ghostly arms.

“That's a root cellar down there,” Ingveldur said from the stairs. “Are we going down? I don't particularly like closed-in spaces.”

“You can stay up here,” I told Ulfur sotto voce, so the others wouldn't hear me. “You should be safe in the Brotherhood house. I can't imagine an Ilargi would come here.”

He nodded and went to explain to the rest of the ghosts.

“We'll be right up here if you need us,” Ingveldur called as I was led down into the basement. Frederic was behind us; Mattias manhandled a handcuffed Kristoff before me. I glanced at Kristoff, who was being unusually silent. He hadn't gone easily, his face still showing the effects of the battle with Mattias that had been ended abruptly when Frederic pulled out a wicked-looking gun and held it to my chest.

Kristjana gave me a shove between my shoulders that almost sent me tumbling down the stairs. Trussed up like a turkey, I would have preferred to have a hand free to hold on to the railing lest she act on the idea of getting a new Zorya.