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Authors: Felicity Heaton

Prophecy: Child of Light (32 page)

BOOK: Prophecy: Child of Light
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When she caught up with him, he looked across at her. She was pulling her hair back into a ponytail. She looked so different in her black bodice and jacket. He was thankful that it didn’t reveal anything, partly because it would have distracted him and partly because it would have exposed her marks to the world. He wondered if Arkalus knew of them. His fists clenched at the thought of the vampire touching her.

“You seem tenser than usual,” she said with a smile.

He flexed his fingers, trying to rid his body of the tension she’d picked up on. He glanced at her neck, relieved to see there were still only his marks on her.

“Does Kalinor know you are here?” he said.

She shook her head in negation. “I don’t think Arkalus told him. I get the feeling that he just wanted to find me. He never wanted to kill me.”

He frowned at the pavement. “Kalinor will realise that he has been double crossed. He will not take it lightly. He demands loyalty.”

He tried to keep the stab of hurt those words made him feel out of his eyes but he knew she’d seen it when she furrowed her brows and gave him a small smile. There was something else in her eyes as she sighed. Guilt and sadness. Was he responsible for her feeling guilty? Did she feel like it because she knew what he’d sacrificed and how hard it was for him? Or was it being back in Prague that was making her feel that way? They were close to both of their homes and she had seen her family again. Had they treated her differently, as though she was going to kill them all? She hadn’t mentioned her mother. She had only spoken of Arkalus.

He thought about asking her, but then decided against it. The sadness in her eyes told him something had happened. He didn’t need to make her talk about it. In time, she would tell him if she wanted to.

She stopped under a streetlight and her brows furrowed in concern, her expression becoming gentle. He was about to tell her that he was fine when she reached out and brushed her thumb across his lower lip. It was such a delicate move on her part. His eyes closed, his lip still tingling with her touch even after she’d withdrawn her hand. Opening them again, he saw a streak of blood on the pad of her thumb and he licked his lips, tasting the metallic tang of it. She must have hit him harder than he’d thought.

He cocked his head to one side when she brought her thumb up to her mouth, closed her eyes and licked his blood off it so slowly that it looked as though she was savouring it.

She gave him a sheepish smile when she opened her eyes.

“I didn’t think I’d hit you that hard,” she said.

He smiled at the sight of her bruised cheek when she turned slightly and the light shone down on her. He ran the backs of his fingers over it. Her eyes closed, her head dropping as she turned it away from him in a self-conscious way. He wondered if she would always be this shy whenever he showed her the slightest amount of affection. She answered his thoughts by leaning into his touch when he opened his hand and cupped her cheek.

“I didn’t think I’d hit you that hard.” He repeated her words.

“I think you did.” She smiled and he withdrew his hand. “In fact I know you did. My back is killing me.”

He grinned at her, almost letting slip a laugh when she pulled a face of discomfort and pressed her hands into the small of her back.

“I believe that makes us even,” he said.

She frowned at him as though trying to figure out why they were now even and then her eyes widened and he realised that she’d remembered throwing him against the wall in the warehouse.

“I guess we are.” She gave him a brief smile and then her expression became one of intent as she looked back up the street they’d just walked down. “I think we should keep moving. Arkalus will be trying to find me.”

He nodded and began walking again. She was right. Arkalus had wanted to claim her and even though he was probably bonded to her friend now, it wouldn’t stop him from trying to find her. If Kalinor discovered that they were in the city again, he would stop at nothing to capture and kill them. If he discovered that Arkalus had betrayed him, he would raise an army and declare war on Caelestis, regardless of the consequences to the human population of Prague.

He kept glancing at Prophecy as they walked along the river to the Charles Bridge. She looked fascinated again, her eyes constantly scanning her surroundings. He’d forgotten that she’d never seen her city first hand before. A quick look around them told him that no one was following them so he slowed the pace the slightest amount, giving her more time to take in the buildings and scenery. He had to give her something good to remember. There were bad times ahead of them. His instincts told him that from here on in, it was going to get a lot more difficult and a lot more dangerous.

St. Petersburg awaited them.

Prophecy was going to face her biggest challenge so far.

She just didn’t know it yet.

CHAPTER 24

P
rophecy squashed the turmoil and the sickening nerves that walking the streets of Prague were giving her. Valentine seemed so relaxed. She couldn’t understand his leisurely pace. She wanted to get away from the city as quickly as possible, but he was delaying them by going to his apartment first.

She had been so relieved to see him alive and well that it had calmed her at first, but now they had entered the heart of the city and everything was setting her nerves alight.

She frowned and kept her eyes fixed on the floor as they passed under the gate at one end of the bridge. It was tall, imposing, and old. Just like the rest of the buildings around her.

Her eyes crept up, taking in the sight of the bridge spanning the river in front of her. There was something ominous about it. The ornate streetlamps that lined it did nothing to actually light it. It was cloaked in dark sepia tones. The yellow glow of the lamps seemed to draw out all colour, washing everything in its dull sickly light.

She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the sudden chill off them. Looking up at Valentine, she wanted to ask him to forget going to his place for weapons. This whole area of the city had a feeling of foreboding about it. She brought her eyes back to the bridge. The wide causeway was lined intermittently with statues that seemed to loom out of the darkness, leering at her as she passed. It reeked of antiquity, of danger, just like the other streets they had walked down. The bridge was so old that it had long been closed to traffic, and because of the late hour, her and Valentine were the only ones walking along it. The emptiness of it only added to the anxious feeling it gave her.

She looked up. It had rained shortly before she’d escaped and the clouds were still knit closely together, threatening her with another downpour at any given moment.

She fixed her gaze straight in front of her and blocked out the words of danger her imagination was whispering. She could barely see the other end of the bridge. There was just darkness greeting her and the cathedral high up on the hill. It felt as though she was walking into nothingness, into certain death.

Silence reigned, engulfing all noises around them until the whole city was still.

It was too quiet.

“When do we leave?” she said, wanting to break the silence and using conversation to calm her nerves.

“There is a train to St. Petersburg in two hours,” Valentine replied without taking his eyes off the gate that was now becoming visible at the other end of the bridge.

“Two hours,” she repeated. She was relieved to hear that it wasn’t long until they were going to be leaving Prague behind. When she’d gone with Valentine to England, she’d been sad to leave her city behind and she’d missed it and her home. Now she felt as though she didn’t belong here, at least not at this moment. She had things to do. One day the city would feel like home to her again, but right now the whole of it felt like a prison, and she had to escape.

Valentine had been right when he’d told her she couldn’t go back. There was no going back. Everything had changed inexorably now. Iona was gone and Arkalus had taken her place. She had seen in the eyes of her family that they feared him. She had always known in her heart that he wouldn’t be a just ruler of their family. He would run it with an iron fist, treating their kin as though they were his slaves to command rather than his family.

Her hands curled into fists and she looked over to her left in the direction of her home. Someday, she would come back and set things right within her family. She was their Chosen Daughter. It was her duty to protect them, even if it was from one of their own.

Silently, she vowed that she would return and defeat Arkalus.

She brought her eyes back to the bridge and looked at another statue as they passed it. She could see the other side of the river now. The churches here were massive imposing monuments. It made her skin crawl to look at them. She dropped her gaze down from the hill, over the large trees on the right of the bridge to the gate at the far end. It was different to the one at the other end. It seemed to fit in with its surroundings more. She glanced over her shoulder and saw how far they’d come along the bridge.

She hoped that Valentine’s apartment wasn’t far from the bridge. The quicker they were at the station, the happier she would be.

A chill swept through her. The statues loomed all around her. The buildings seemed to grow and darken.

“Old,” she said quietly, fearing that the city itself would answer her.

“Dangerous,” Valentine said.

She realised that he was right. His single word had summed up everything she’d been feeling since setting foot in the centre of the city but couldn’t quite put her finger on. The city was old. It was old to the point that it had grown dangerous. Their families had darkened it and bloodied it with so many centuries of vicious battles that the city itself seemed to have absorbed some of their deadliness. It felt as though it had feelings. Everywhere she turned, she felt malice, and it seemed to be directed at them.

An Aurorea and a Caelestis, two from the bloodlines responsible for the city’s tortured past.

“Prague feels so different to how it used to. I know I never really went out into it, but I spent so many nights watching it from my room or the roof of the mansion. It feels so different to Venice...” She trailed off when she realised that she was probably sounding weird.

Valentine smiled. “Deadlier. Venice felt safer, Paris safer still. The closer we get to the impending war, the more we’re finding ourselves in cities whose history has seen apocalyptic battles. St. Petersburg will feel even deadlier.”

“Why?” She tried to recall if she knew anything about their next destination. All she had seen were travel programs about it on the television.

“Two of the most powerful bloodlines have made it their home. The ever graceful Venia live in the city and the mighty Validus have been resident in the countryside just outside of it since time immemorial.”

“Validus,” she breathed the word. They were the oldest of the bloodlines and the least populous. It was said that there hadn’t been a new child in the Validus family since the eighteenth century and it was rare to meet one since they seldom left their home. She wondered if she’d meet one. The Validus Law Keeper had been in the position for nearly six hundred years. They were exceptional fighters.

Her eyes moved from one streetlight to the next, following the line of them as they flanked the bridge. She occasionally let her gaze linger on a statue as they passed it by.

Nearing the other end of the bridge, she watched the reflections in the water, the lights twinkling and rippling in the gentle current. She listened to the sound of the trees swishing in the breeze.

A low rumble interrupted her thoughts.

Her senses sharpened to a pinpoint.

She immediately looked at Valentine who had stopped walking. He was scanning their surroundings.

“That wasn’t your stomach then?” She tried to make light of the situation but he grimly shook his head.

When his head shot around and he frowned, she followed his gaze. Slinking out of the shadows of a nearby staircase was the largest werewolf she’d ever seen.

“Old,” she whispered in fascination, her eyes roaming over its tattered fur that was intersected with thick scars.

“Damn near ancient,” Valentine corrected her.

“Is that bad?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth, afraid to make a move in case she made it attack.

“Only for us.” He smiled but it looked forced to her. She could see the worry in his eyes. “I think we should forget the weapons.”

“I would tend to agree.” She backed away a step but the werewolf moved forwards, keeping the distance between them steady.

She stared into its yellow eyes. Everything slowed. For a brief second, she wondered whose family it belonged to, and then Valentine grabbed her hand.

The world sped up to a dizzying pace.

“Move!” Valentine tugged on her hand and started sprinting in the direction they’d just come. She found herself lagging behind, her concentration on the werewolf rather than running.

She tried to look over her shoulder at it as they pounded the cobbled roadway back over the bridge towards the old town square. Valentine pulled on her arm again and growled at her when she stumbled, losing her footing and slowing them down even further.

The dark look he shot in her direction told her just how serious the situation they’d found themselves in was. There was no time for making mistakes. If they didn’t do everything flawlessly, then they weren’t going to make it out.

She sharpened her senses, her pace increasing until she was keeping up with him. When she fell in beside him, he let go of her hand. She focused on the werewolf, trying to pinpoint its location behind them.

She looked at the buildings ahead of them, the wide flat-topped spires of the church and the town hall giving her somewhere to aim for and the wet cobblestones of the bridge reflecting the pale lights of the streetlamps lining it.

“Gaining,” she said and saw Valentine’s brows knit tight, his concentration wholly with the werewolf. She tried to run faster but her muscles protested, aching under the pressure of being forced to go past their limit.

BOOK: Prophecy: Child of Light
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