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Authors: Katie MacAlister

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BOOK: Zen and the Art of Vampires
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Ingveldur exchanged a knowing glance with Old Agda, who cackled rustily and said, “Had your wedding night, did you? I told you that man of yours looked like a lively one.”
My cheeks flared in response. “It wasn't a wedding night.”
“Eh? Then why're you blushing like my arse after a soak in the hot spring?” Agda asked.
“It wasn't like that,” I said quickly, intending to move on to important points.
“Maybe he wasn't any good,” one of the other women said. “Maybe he didn't have stamina. I said it was important. A man needs to be able to last more than a few pokes.”
“He lasted just fine—” I stopped myself, closing my eyes for a moment to avoid looking at the amusement in Agda's eyes. “My evening activities notwithstanding, I do have some news.”
“You're with child?” Ingveldur said, her eyebrows raised. “That was quick work, although if he was particularly skillful, not surprising.”
“I am not pregnant!” I said loudly, running my hands through my hair in agitation.
A woman with a handful of books paused at the nearest aisle and leaned out to look at me. I gave her a feeble smile. “Sorry.”
She sniffed and moved away.
“Listen,” I said, trying to will the blush to fade. My cheeks felt so hot I could probably fry an egg on them. “Last night I talked with the Brotherhood people. They explained to me how the whole Zorya thing works. I had to get married to one of their people, a man who represents the sun, to start the process of gaining powers. The next step is a ceremony tonight.”
“You've gone and been married again?” Hallur asked.
“Is that legal?” asked Ulfur at the same time.
“It's perfectly legal because (A) it's not a real marriage—it's just some ceremony they conduct within their group—and (B) the marriage to Kristoff wasn't legal. I don't think. No, I'm sure it's not, so therefore, I'm still technically unmarried.”
“But you've been bedded by your husband,” Ingveldur said, frowning.
“Which one?” Hallur asked. “I'm confused.”
“The first husband, the Dark One,” Agda said. “My gold is on him. He looks to have the wind for a long race.”
“What about the other husband?” Hallur asked, still puzzled. “Did he bed you, too? Just how many men have you bedded since you've arrived here?”
“She gets two husbands? I want to be a Zorya!” announced the teenage Dagrun. Her mother shushed her.
“That's not the sort of question you ask a woman,” Ingveldur went on to tell Hollur. “And by my count, it's three.”
“I didn't sleep with Mattias. And it's only two!” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my frazzled nerves.
“Two in two days. That's a pretty good start, if you ask me,” Agda said. “But don't let that stop you bedding your other husband. Try his paces and then make a decision about which stallion you'll keep in your stable.”
“I am not keeping a stable of lovers or husbands!” I said, desperately trying to get off the subject.
“You just took another husband,” Ulfur pointed out. “I believe more than one would qualify as a stable.”
“Will you people just forget Mattias? He's not really important!” I said, wanting to scream and tear my hair out at the same time.
“Well, I think that Dark One of yours'll think he's important,” Agda said, nodding.
I opened my mouth to dispute that, allowed my mind to dwell on what Kristoff's reaction would be to the fact that I had taken another step toward gaining Zorya powers, and closed it again.
“Do you think so?” Ingveldur looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Aye, I reckon you're right.”
I took a deep, deep breath, involving approximately half of the available oxygen in the room. “Do you people want to go to Ostri?”
They all nodded, including Ragnar.
“Then you need to listen closely. I cannot take you there until I have undergone a ritual.”
“One involving your husband?” Ingveldur asked, a faint wrinkle on her forehead.
“Which husband? The Dark One or the one named Mattias?” Hallur asked, scratching his head. “Who is the third man? Is he a husband, too?”
“Will you forget about my husband!”
“Which—” Hallur started to say.
“All of them!” I squawked. “Just forget all of them! Forget they ever existed! This has
nothing
to do with
any
man in my life, whether or not I've slept with them!”
“Seems to me that you've slept with all the ones you
have
met,” Agda's voice said from behind the others.
“Argh!” I wanted to scream, and spent a moment looking for something to throw.
“She hasn't slept with me,” Ulfur said with a rakish grin.
“I'd rather sleep with Ragnar than you!” I growled, pushed beyond my endurance.
“Would you, now,” the stamina woman drawled, looking at the horse with speculation.
I swear to god that Ragnar winked at me.
I dropped down into the chair next to the carrel, my head in my hands as I tried to keep myself from screaming. Or sobbing. It was a toss-up which I'd go with.
“You're saying we have to wait here until you complete this ritual tonight before we can go to Ostri?” Marta's soft voice cut through the mental hysterical screaming that filled my mind.
“Yes. Thank you. A voice of sanity at last.” I took a couple more deep breaths, then rose and faced the maddening group of ghosts. “You should know that there's a possibility that I won't be able to take you to Ostri. If that's so, I will find someone who can take you—you don't have to worry about that.”
“You won't be taking us?” Karl asked, his brow wrinkled. “But why?”
“It's a bit complicated. It hinges really on whether or not my marriage to Kristoff is legal. If it is, then the one to Mattias isn't, and that means I'm still a Zorya-in-waiting. If it isn't, then I'll be a true Zorya, and I should be able to find Ostri for you. Either way, I want you all to know that I will make sure you're taken care of. I'm not going to abandon you until you've made it there.”
The ghosts looked as confused as I felt.
“Regardless of all that, you seem to be safe at the library, so I want you to stay here until I can finish the official Zorya recognition process, at which point we'll know the answer to the question about which marriage is valid. OK?”
“Oooh, look, it's the husband,” Dagrun called from where she was perched on another carrel.
“Which one?” Hallur asked, craning his neck. “Oh. That one.”
Kristoff emerged from between two stacks, pausing for a moment with an odd expression on his face as he glanced around. “Who are all these spirits?”
My eyebrows rose as I checked that none of them had slipped into solid form. “You can see them?”
“Yes.” He frowned at them. “How many have you collected?”
“Sixteen, counting Ragnar.”
Ragnar snuffled the back of Kristoff's head. The latter swatted him away. “I've reached Alec. He will be here in a few minutes. He is not happy.”
“Welcome to my world,” I said, eyeing Kristoff. “How come you can see my ghosts? You couldn't see them the other night, could you?”
“No,” he answered, doing a double take at Dagrun, who was openly leering at him. He looked back at me with one of his regulation frowns. “Why are you keeping them here?”
“It's the safest spot we could find.”
“Safe from what?”
Ragnar snuffled Kristoff again. Kristoff turned around, glared at the horse, then made an elaborate gesture that had the horse opening its eyes wide for a moment before it disappeared.
“Holy . . . what did you just do?” I asked, taking a couple of steps forward to make sure Ragnar really was gone.
“The horse was annoying me.” Kristoff looked at Hallur, who was standing next to him, examining his clothing closely. The second Hallur realized he had gained Kristoff's attention, he gave an embarrassed smile and backed off quickly.
“I didn't think you had any powers. You said you didn't!”
“I said I didn't have any powers against mortals.” His lips tightened as he gazed at all the ghosts. “I do have some against spirits.”
The group backed off as one body.
“But where did Ragnar go?” I asked, since I knew Ulfur was fond of the horse.
“Nowhere. I just dispersed his energy. As soon as he gathers it back up, he'll be back. But not, I trust, before we leave. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Does anyone have any questions?”
“I do,” Dagrun said, smiling with wicked intent at Kristoff. “Does this husband know about your
other
husband?”
The floor dropped out from under my feet. Oh, not literally, but it sure felt that way. I stared with wide, blank, deer-caught-in-the-headlights-of-a-really-big-truck-driven-by-a-deer-hating-maniac eyes at Kristoff, who turned his head slowly to me.
“Other husband?” he asked. “Were you married before?”
“Hush, child.” Ingveldur bustled over to Dagrun. “That'll be enough from you.”
“Before? I'm talking about the husband she wed yesterday.” Dagrun snorted, evading her mother. “You know, the reaper husband.”
“You married a reaper,” Kristoff said after a moment's pregnant silence during which my mind had come to a screeching halt. His voice was flat and emotionless.
“Who married a reaper? Ah, love, there you are. How I've missed seeing you. You are looking particularly lovely this morning, but that shouldn't surprise me in the least since you are the epitome of loveliness. Miss me?” Alec strolled out of the stacks looking just as handsome as ever, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail, his leather jacket slung casually over one shoulder. His eyes twinkled merrily at me as he took one of my hands and kissed my knuckles in a lingering manner that probably would have melted me at any other time.
As it was, I was feeling somewhat as if I'd been turned to stone. “Um . . . yes,” I said, my gaze flickering between him and Kristoff, who, oddly enough, also seemed to be sporting a stony appearance.
“That's the other Dark One she bedded?” Dagrun asked, moving around to get a better look at Alec before turning amazed eyes on me. “This is so unfair! Why can't I be a Zorya?”
“Love? Is something the matter?” Alec asked, his smile slipping a smidgen.
“I have just been informed that the Zorya has wed the sacristan.” Kristoff finally spoke. His voice was flinty and remote.
“She has?” Alec frowned at me, then glanced around. “Who informed you?”
“One of the spirits,” Kristoff said, waving toward Dagrun.
The little wretch had the nerve to grin at him.
“One who may just not find herself going to Ostri after all,” I said in an undertone with a particularly potent look her way.
She stuck out her tongue at me.
“Child!” Ingveldur smacked Dagrun on the shoulder. “You do not behave such to the Zorya.”
“Spirits? What spirits?” Alec asked. His frown deepened as he eyed me.
“You don't see them?” Kristoff asked.
“No.”
Both men frowned at me now. The ghosts all stood around watching expectantly, obviously enjoying the strange soap opera my life had become.
“Why don't we go somewhere a little less public to discuss things,” I suggested wearily. I couldn't look Alec in the eye—it was too unnerving with Kristoff standing right there pretending nothing had happened the night before, particularly when both men stood discussing my marriage to a third. I shook my head at my own thoughts and waved a hand at the ghosts. “I saw a restaurant a couple of blocks from here where we can have some breakfast and talk.”
“All of us?” asked Ulfur, giving Kristoff a doubtful look.
“No, you guys stay here, where you're safe. I'll be back as soon as I can.”
“Take care of yourself, child,” Agda said, her eyes alight with mischief. “And get some food into your belly. By the look your man is giving you, you're going to be needing it.”
I know Kristoff heard her because his expression grew blacker as I passed. I tried not to burst into hysterics as I left.
“Ragnar!” Ulfur cried as Alec, Kristoff, and I left the library. “You've come back!”
“Which one is her man?” Hallur's voice asked, drifting out after us. “And are any of them her husbands?”
 
Alec found us a quiet, nearly empty pub that served food, with a dark interior where the two vampires could sit without being in direct sunlight.
“I've missed you, love,” Alec said as he escorted me back to a semicircular booth in the back. He pulled me close, as if he was going to kiss me.
I squirmed out of his hold, casting a quick glance at the still stony-faced Kristoff.
Alec laughed, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Don't tell me you're shy all of a sudden?”
“No, it's . . .” I glanced toward Kristoff. “There's something I need to tell you.”
“Tell away,” Alec said cheerfully, pulling out the table so I could scoot around into the seat.
He sat close to me on my right, his leg pressed against mine in a casually intimate gesture. It was both thrilling and disconcerting. Mostly the latter.
Kristoff took a seat just about as far from me as he could on the left. I gave my order to the waitress, absently noticing that while Kristoff waved away the idea of a meal, Alec duplicated my order.
BOOK: Zen and the Art of Vampires
5.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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