No Rest for the Wicked

15

Kaderin groaned to see the kobold had plunged directly into the roof of the snowcat, bending it down in a V, and now lay sprawled, unconscious.

Lucindeya? Kaderin had passed her at one thousand feet, hanging on with her fingertips, cursing her in what humans assumed were dead languages. "I didn't think you'd start this early, lightning whore! It's on!"

"Hey!" Regin called. "What hit the roof? I don't have comp and collision on this thing. Hee-hee."

Kaderin slammed into the cab, gasping after her exertion. "Just go!" She put her hands to the window and ducked and twisted, scanning for Sebastian through the scratchy glass. It was only a matter of time.

"Um, shouldn't we get whatever is up there off the freaking roof? You know, so we'll be sveltely aerodynamic again."

"Kobold," Kaderin said dismissively, still fighting to catch her breath.

At that, Regin shoved the door open and patted around blindly on the roof. She jerked the moaning kobold off by his ankle, flinging him far.

"Put this thing in gear!" Kaderin snapped. "And get your swords ready." Regin's swords were more like refined cutlasses, worn crossed over her back in twin sheaths. They were short enough that she could use them freely in the closed cab.

Regin drew them immediately, glancing around for a foe. "What? Where's the bogey?"

"Vampire!" Kaderin gasped. "And he's right—" Kaderin jumped, startled when Sebastian appeared outside not a foot away. "Here!"

When he traced inside the snowcat compartment to sit in the backseat, Regin tensed, turning slowly. Any other creature in the Lore would have witnessed her eerie movements as she prepared to spring and would have known life was over.

Kaderin might not be allowed to kill him, but Regin would do so with glee.

Suddenly, Kaderin didn't know if she wanted to see this. After all the vampires she had killed and had seen killed, his imminent death was making her... nervous?

"Kad, baby," Regin began with a menacing purr, "you brought me a kill? And here I was getting light on fangs." Regin's swords shot out, positioned around his neck like they were hedge clippers. She wrenched them together.

But at the last second, he'd traced a foot over. Her swords sliced only air and each other with a pure metallic ring. He was either the fastest tracer they'd ever encountered, or he'd never been fully substantial to begin with.

"You can't kill a competitor," Sebastian said to Regin with infuriating calm.

"Not a competitor yet, leech." Regin's swords shot out once more and flew together. "I just drive the boat."

But he'd nonchalantly traced over again. "You try my patience, creature," he said to Regin, then gave Kaderin a last look. "Tonight, Katja." He disappeared.

"Damn it!" Regin snapped. Then the situation seemed to hit her. Her jaw dropped, and she swung her face to Kaderin. "Katja?" she cried, pointing a sword.

"Just shut up. I don't want to hear it."

"A vampire just called you a nickname! A sexy nickname."

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 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 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 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."