No Rest for the Wicked (15 page)

Kaderin waved her hand dismissively. “He thinks I’m his... Bride.”

Regin threaded her swords in their sheaths. “Yeah? That so?” she said, speaking far too

loudly in the enclosed space. “Seems to be catching.” She yanked the gearshift to speed

them off at a loping ten miles per hour.

“Catching? What do you mean by that? Because of Helen?” Helen’s transgression was

seventy years ago. Would the covens never let it die? And if not, what would they do if

they found out about Kaderin and Sebastian?

“Helen. Sure. Whatever,” Regin muttered, surly again. “What’s this leech’s plan for you?”

She drove like a consummate trucker, one hand at six o’clock on the large wheel, the

other on the gearshift.

“He wants to help me win the Hie.”

She made a sound of frustration. “Like you’d trust a leech with something this important!”

Without even trying to miss, Regin ran straight through a snowdrift. “When you’re barely

trusting me to help you!” A frantically blown gum bubble. “He seemed really possessive of

you already. You haven’t... you haven’t, like, lifted tail for him?”

“No! I didn’t have sex with him!” she said honestly, hoping to manage a believable amount

of indignation. Thank the gods I didn’t go that far. Would never. I can always deny...

“What did he mean by tonight? He can’t find you.”

Um, actually he might be able to. “I can’t imagine, Regin.” No, no way. Tracing to a

person was impossible. Vampires just didn’t have that talent. And yet he’d surprised her in

so many ways already. She knew he was unique. If he truly could come to her, would he

tonight?

“What are you going to do in the future if you go up against him again?”

“I don’t know,” Kaderin admitted. “I can’t kill him, because of the competition.”

“Contain him, then. If he’s not that old, you could still hold him with a reinforced shackle.

Or throw a boulder on him. On his leg. He’d be trapped.”

“Unless he took off his leg the way Emma’s Lykae did to get to her.”

Regin shuddered. “Eeesh, that skeeves me.”

Kaderin hadn’t really thought much about Lachlain’s act. Now she found the idea of him

willfully amputating a trapped leg to crawl through vampire catacombs to reach his mate

on the surface vaguely... romantic? Would Sebastian do that for her?

“Hell.” He would.

“What’s that?” Regin asked. When Kaderin just shook her head, Regin said, “I’ll stay with

you tonight. Maybe stick around for tomorrow’s task.” Regin had told Sebastian that she

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) wasn’t a competitor yet. Kaderin knew she needed to nip this even before Regin turned on

her music. Again.

“All... my... friends... know the low rider.”

Kaderin pinched her forehead. Cowbell. How much more could she stand?

She was faced with the very harsh realization that she’d rather be accosted by the arrogant

vampire—one of her immortal enemies—than stay with Regin for another twenty-four

hours.

No more cowbell. “I think I can handle it.”

After the unqualified failure of his first outing, Sebastian traced back to his chests to

retrieve more gold—having determined that he might need to secure more money than

he’d first suspected.

He had the feeling this courtship would be... protracted.

As he shed layers of clothes, preparing to dig, he felt the amulet in one of his pockets.

With a shrug, he drew it out, then held it above his heart. His lips parted when it vanished.

It bloody worked for him, too? The smell of the temple’s fires flared over the Baltic brine.

He’d... he’d simply have to think about this later.

He snatched up the shovel he’d left for the purpose, and while he dug, he wondered if he

would ever be able to forget the sight of Kaderin stabbing that kindly-looking old kobold

through the gullet.

As a human, Sebastian had killed and dealt viciously with his enemies. But, Christ, he

wished he hadn’t seen her attack—so quick and thoughtless, as if by rote.

Though he’d seen women resort to violence in wartime to protect loved ones, he’d never

sensed such ferocity in a female.

He understood he couldn’t compare Kaderin to the women of his time. He couldn’t even

compare her to human females. His sisters would have fainted before injuring an insect.

They would have fainted at the mere idea of climbing a mountain. He knew this, but it

didn’t make seeing Kaderin’s cruelty any easier.

He feared his Bride enjoyed it.

Digging down, he found nothing. Brows drawn, he drove the shovel deeper. Still nothing.

His fists clenched the handle to splinters and dust.

The chests were gone.

Kaderin slouched in her leather recliner on the jet, satisfied with her success. The chair

beside her was empty as Regin lay on the floor of the plane, legs propped up on the chair

arm. They’d planned to drop Kaderin at a Rio executive airport, then fly Regin home to

New Orleans .

Yes, Kaderin was satisfied. No matter what had happened, she was in the lead. Or at least

tied for it, with Cindey and that sodding vampire. How, on the vampire’s first Hie—on his

very first task—had he scored the maximum? Insufferable. At least Bowen hadn’t been

there, and the next-highest task had been only a nine-pointer.

“I really can stay with you, if you need me to,” Regin offered for the fifth time. “We would

make the most kick-assest team ever.”

“I tried teaming up for my first Hie,” Kaderin answered. “Alas, my partnership with Myst

ended in a difference in opinion—one that entailed her sucker-punching me in the mouth

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) and me tossing her by her hair. Sorry, Regin, but I’ll always work alone. Besides, the

amulet was a good start. Twelve points out of eighty-seven.”

“What if that vamp finds you again?”

If he’d been telling her the truth on that ledge, Kaderin figured that would be happening

sooner than Regin thought. “I’m sure I can figure out something to take care of him.”

“When did you blood him? In Russia ?” When she nodded, Regin said, “Did he trace

before you could kill him?”

Her face flushed. No, I was too busy grinding on him. “I didn’t have my whip with me,”

she said, hedging while still telling the truth. She felt she might as well be wearing a scarlet

letter. Or at least a T-shirt that said, “Kissed vampire. And I was digging it.”

“Regin, why are you so eager to help me out? You seem very keen to get out of—and

stay out of— New Orleans .”

She began nervously tinkering with her iPod. “Nïx told me that... well, Aidan the Fierce is

returning soon.”

“Your berserker?”

Regin had kissed Aidan—although she shouldn’t have, because her kisses were as

drugging as the most powerful mystical narcotics and just as addictive. Even after that

berserker had died in battle, he’d defied death to seek her again in another life.

In fact, he’d reincarnated at least three other times, yearning for Regin so badly that he

was cursed to be a Version 2.0, a reincarnate, for eternity.

“He’s not my berserker,” Regin said.

“What would you call him, then?”

She shrugged.

“What would you call the fact that he perpetually finds you, remembers who he was, and

then somehow gets killed fighting to win you?”

“A game we play?” Regin winced. “Did I just say that?”

Kaderin rolled her eyes. “Then shouldn’t you be in New Orleans , battering up?”

Regin glanced away and softly said, “I was kind of thinking that if he didn’t find me this

time, he might live past thirty-five.”

Kaderin didn’t know what to do with this sudden seriousness from Regin, so she said,

“What am I supposed to do with this, Regin?”

“You’re whack, d’you know that?”

“What if Ivan the Russian was your berserker, and you just didn’t know it?”

Regin studied the ceiling. “I always know him.”

“Why don’t you just accept him? Run into his arms?” Freya had taught the older Valkyrie

that they would know their true love when he opened his arms and they realized they’d

always run to get within them.

“I have my reasons.” Regin put her chin up, though she was lying on the floor. “They are

myriad and complex.”

“Give me one.”

Regin faced her. “Okay, I’ll give you one, a Regin Reason Lite. With a situation like this,

you have to ask yourself, is the grope worth the slap?” When Kaderin frowned, she added,

“You know, is the cake worth the bake?”

“Oh. So it’s not?”

“Among other things, I’m not keen on falling for a mortal and cursing every day that

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) passes because he’ll die within a blink of my life. Then to pine for him to return?” She

shook her head firmly. “Not worth the bake.”

“I understand. It’s best to forgo a small amount of pleasure to spare yourself a lot of

pain.” Kaderin did understand—so why had she taken pleasure from Sebastian, knowing it

would wreck her afterward?

“Exactly! It’s just self-preservation. No one in the coven gets it. They only want me to live

in the moment. Nïx advised me to ‘find and bang my berserker.’ ” She exhaled wearily.

“But that brings a question to mind. Are you going to get a male now that the curse is

lifting? Word around the coven is that you haven’t had a little some-some in a thousand

years.”

Kaderin saw no reason to deny it. Even before her blessing, she’d been so cautious about

trusting that she’d had few lovers. “I’m not so selfless that I would give ‘a little some-

some’ when I get nothing out of it. I don’t feel desire like that.” Liar, liar, liar.

“Maybe not in the past,” Regin said with an exaggerated wink-wink. “So, what’s your

type? Or was? Do you even remember?”

What was her type? Kaderin flushed, denying her first thought. “I was always defenseless

in the face of swineherds.”

Regin laughed, and when Kaderin chuckled slightly, she exclaimed, “This is so weird! You

were all freakishly unemotional before I was even born. I’ve never known you any other

way.” Regin gave her an appraising glance and declared, “You’re kinda cool when you’re

not mystically lobotomized.”

16

S ebastian’s coins, his gold, all the wealth he had in the world, had disappeared.

His head shot up, fangs sharpening. Nikolai. It had to be. What was left of the shovel

handle dropped to the ground. Clenching his bleeding fists, he traced inside Blachmount,

stalking from room to room, scarcely noticing the changes throughout. Sebastian found

him striding through the main hall—where Sebastian and the rest of his family had died.

Nikolai appeared stunned to see him—even before receiving the first crushing blow to his

face.

“Where’s my goddamned gold?” Sebastian bellowed, with another punishing hit.

“I retrieved it.” Nikolai dodged—or took—the blows without striking back. “I was

keeping it safe.”

“You had no right! You did it so I’d be forced to confront you.”

“Yes,” Nikolai said simply.

Sebastian struck out again, then lunged forward to shove Nikolai into the wall, pinning

him there with a forearm under his chin. All of this reminded him too much of the night

he’d risen, bringing back the pain with it. “You want a confrontation? Just like before?”

Nikolai had refused to fight him, just as he was doing now. That night, if Murdoch hadn’t

forced his hands away from Nikolai’s throat, Sebastian might have killed him.

He remembered that time through a haze, remembered being alive but dead, with no

heartbeat or breath, trapped in twilight. He’d been so weak, waking with a frantic thirst—

one that could be quenched only by blood.

He’d been cursed, because his brother had ignored his desperate wish to die with his

family. He punched the wall beside Nikolai’s face. “You made me an abomination.”

“I saved your life,” Nikolai bit out.

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“And then immediately wanted me to pledge it to your army. A mortal life of battle after

battle wasn’t enough—you wanted me and Conrad to fight in a never-ending war.”

“It’s worth fighting.”

“It’s not my war.”

“Do you still hate me so violently for my deeds?” Nikolai demanded. “Is that why you’ve

never returned here?”

Sebastian released him. “I don’t hate you,” he finally said, surprised to find this true. “I

don’t care enough about anything to hate. No longer. Three hundred years took care of

that.” He backed away. “I just want you to stay out of my life.”

“Do you want my apology? I give it.”

“I don’t want your apology—because I know in the same situation, you’d do it again... ”

Sebastian’s attention was distracted when a female entered the room.

“Nikolai?” Her gaze took in Nikolai’s face, then she turned to Sebastian. “Apparently, he

won’t hit you back, but I will.”

Recognizing her features, Sebastian asked, “Valkyrie?”

“How do you know what I am?” She faced Nikolai. “His heart beats. He’s blooded.”

Nikolai had always been aloof and possessed of a rigid self-control. So it was even more

unexpected when he glanced from the Valkyrie back to Sebastian, and his eyes went wild.