“Because you won’t succeed,” Alexi said. “And if you try you force Ishtar to choose between you and Anna, I fear it will not go well for either you or Russia.”
Ruxandra’s eyes narrowed. “What about Anna?”
Alexi shrugged. “She is the empress. Unless the nobles rise up, there is no one with the power to defeat her. Give me your word.”
“What makes you think I’ll keep it?”
“I am an excellent judge of character.” He pushed off the wall, swayed a moment, then stood upright, his eyes on Ruxandra. “Your word you will not harm her.”
Ruxandra’s eyes narrowed. “I give you my word, I will not harm her for this.”
“Or any other past incidents, or anything you suspect she might do in the future.”
But not for anything she actually does in the future. “I give my word.”
He smiled again, and Ruxandra saw the relief in it. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t kill me or my men, either.”
Ruxandra’s mouth quirked up on one side. “I give you the same as I promised for your empress.”
“Fair.” Alexi raised his hand and turned it in a small circle—a signal to the men Ruxandra couldn’t see. A moment later the pressure holding Ruxandra’s legs vanished. “They have released you. And now I must go. There is much intrigue in the palace these days, but tonight I have an opportunity to sleep, and I am going to take it. Your Alchemist is still working in your library, though. You should join her.”
Alexi walked off, not bothering to turn invisible. Ruxandra smelled his men follow him, their scent draining from the air. She stood alone in the street thinking of what Alexi had said. Then she leaped, landing on the window ledge. Kade lay in the bed, awake, his eyes on her.
“I heard it all,” he said.
“I need to change.” Ruxandra headed for the hallway. “I’m going to the library.”
To find a way to send Ishtar back and stop this nonsense.
Ruxandra found a plain dark-gray dress among the clothes Alexi had given her. It was out of style, with room for neither a bustle nor hoops, but it left her body free to move in a way the newer fashions did not. She dressed and went out into the street.
Ishtar stood at the city gates.
The sight of the other woman made Ruxandra tense. No, not a woman, a devil.
“Hello, dear one,” Ishtar said. She stepped forward and opened her arms for an embrace. Ruxandra stopped walking. Ishtar waited a moment and let her arms drop. “It is good to see you, my daughter.”
Ruxandra kept her voice cold. “What do you want?”
“You, by my side.” Ishtar made the words sound completely reasonable. “I would heal this rift between us, Ruxandra.”
“Did you tell Anna to attack the Jews?”
“Of course not.” Ishtar’s tone made it clear the question was both ridiculous and beneath her. “I merely told her that the Jews’ removal was something dear to the Metropolitan’s heart. She chose the course of action and sent word. The Metropolitan received it joyfully and promised his priests will praise the empress in their next sermons.”
“Men died.”
“If they lived good lives, they will go to heaven. God only rejects evil. He cares nothing about religion.”
“Perhaps you should tell the Metropolitan that. You could spend your human life reducing religious strife.”
“Men believe what they want to believe, and peace is not something they want.”
“Then what use are you?”
“I didn’t say peace could not be achieved.”
“Girls were raped.”
Ishtar shrugged. “They are not the first in the world; they won’t be the last.”
Ruxandra’s talons and teeth came out. “How can you be so callous?”
“It is the truth.” Ishtar looked at Ruxandra’s fingers and the razor-edged talons coming from them. “Being angry about it won’t change it.”
Ruxandra tried to raise her talons, to slash Ishtar’s head from her shoulders. Instead her hands clenched, talons digging into her own flesh. I don’t want to hurt her.
Why don’t I?
“You need not worry about them,” Ishtar said. “Humans exist on this plane a short time, then go to heaven or hell according to their virtues. They are not lost, just removed.”
“They are lost to their families.” Ruxandra ground out the words between teeth clenched as much from anger as from the pain in her shoulder. “They are lost to their lovers and their friends.”
“So are all the ones you killed.”
Ruxandra glared, furious and unable to reply.
“The deaths of those Jews are necessary for Russia’s survival. Anna is necessary for Russia’s survival.” Ishtar’s tone stayed calm, her voice quiet, but her words pierced Ruxandra like knives. “You would do well to remember that far more is at stake here than what Ruxandra does not like. You are a killer just like Anna; she just uses others as her weapon.”
I do not torture. I do not hurt people for fun. I am not a devil.
Unlike you. “Are you truly human?”
“I am.” Ishtar looked at her body, now in a splendid blue dress. “I will admit that I took great vanity in my appearance. I gave myself the best possible attributes, but this body is still human, with human limitations.”
“Good.” Ruxandra went unnoticed and walked away.
“Ruxandra!” Ishtar sounded like the nuns when they’d caught Ruxandra misbehaving. “Come back here at once!”
Ruxandra kept walking.
“You are being childish!” Ishtar switched to Romanian and added a few choice phrases about naughty children. Ruxandra stopped around the corner and waited. Ishtar stood by the gate, squinting as she looked around as if that would break through Ruxandra’s illusion.
Her boots rang hard off the cobbles as she stomped deeper into the enclave.
Not to the Kremlin?
Ruxandra slipped off her shoes and followed. Ishtar took several streets, changing directions five times and twice doubling back. Ruxandra stayed two blocks back, always unnoticed, always silent. Ishtar may have given her human body the best possible hearing, but Ruxandra moved quietly enough to catch mountain cats sleeping.
After a few more twists and turns, Ishtar knocked on the door of a house Ruxandra didn’t recognize. She waited and, when a servant opened the door, said, “Tell him I’ve arrived.”
The servant closed the door. Ruxandra watched, her curiosity piqued, until the door opened again.
“My lady,” said Prince Delfino, extending his small, plump hand. “I am so pleased you came.”
Ishtar took it, and the two stepped inside the house together.
Now that is interesting.
She listened as Delfino led Ishtar upstairs. She heard Ishtar say, “Such a rush” and Delfino’s gasped, “Yes.” They kissed. Delfino pushed Ishtar against a wall. More kissing and a groan from Delfino. A door opened, and Delfino whispered, “Bend over the bed.”
Ruxandra leaned against the wall and listened. Delfino performed with a young man’s stamina and recovery time. Ruxandra spent the next two hours learning far more about his preferences than she’d ever wanted. He and Ishtar spoke fewer than twenty words the entire time, and most of those they shouted in passion.
Ruxandra suspected Ishtar’s acting skills were far better than Delfino’s lovemaking. The little, round man with the oily smile and the acrid body odor overlaid with heavy cologne was no one’s idea of desirable, she thought sourly. If he didn’t have prince in front of his name, he likely would have no lovers at all.
Ishtar left at midnight with messy, unbound hair and disheveled clothing. She walked with a slow, swaying step and winced whenever she jolted her feet on the cobblestones. She walked to the gates of the Kremlin, gave the password, and slipped inside.
What exactly is she after? She could have any man in the city and quite a few of the women . . .
Why Delfino? Why the conspirator who had Princess K
hilkoff on his arm? She turned her back on the Kremlin and headed for the library. I’ll tell Kade when I see him. He can find out what’s going on with them.
Fifteen minutes later she slipped into the library.
The library was silent and empty, save for the Alchemist. She sat at the big table surrounded by papers with geometric diagrams, open scrolls, clay tablets, and books. Ruxandra slipped up behind her and watched as the Alchemist consulted a page of strange symbols beside Cyrillic translations. She hummed as she made notes.
“What is that for?” Ruxandra asked, making the Alchemist jump out of her chair and spin around in surprise.
“Ruxandra?” The Alchemist’s eyes darted back and forth. “Where are you?”
“In front of you.” Ruxandra became noticeable. “What are the inscriptions?”
“Amazing.” The Alchemist huffed out a breath. “You scared me witless.”
She moved the papers and scrolls, clearing the top of a large sheet of vellum. The symbols stretched the length of the page, circles, triangles and lines interconnecting, surrounded by script Ruxandra could not read.
“This,” the Alchemist said, “is the basic formula for turning lead into gold. Unfortunately, it is in ancient Sumerian.”
“And that?” Ruxandra pointed at the translation sheet.
The Alchemist smiled. “A gift from Lady Ishtar for bringing her to this plane of existence: a list of Sumerian words and their Russian translations. With it I can determine the formula. Then I can re-create it.”
“She gave it to you?”
“Yes.”
Buying your loyalty if it works, or at least keeping you distracted.
The Alchemist leaned back against the table. “She loves you, you know.”
“She says she loves me.”
The Alchemist tilted her head and frowned. “Why don’t you believe her?”
“Because you don’t turn someone you care about into a monster.”
“Unless you are a monster yourself,” the Alchemist said. “Then it is the highest possible compliment.”
Ruxandra stared, surprised.
“She may not have loved you in the beginning,” the Alchemist continued. “She didn’t know you. She only knew you were being abused. And since using her powers causes God to force her back down to hell, she gave you the power to take care of yourself.”
“By having me kill my own father.”
“She tried to fight God.” The Alchemist’s voice was gentle. “She no doubt saw your father’s death as a reasonable course of action.”
Just like the Jews.
“No monster is monstrous in their own mind, Ruxandra. Not Ishtar, not Anna.” She smiled. “Not you.”
Ruxandra knew the Alchemist was right. She didn’t think of herself as a monster—well, most of the time she didn’t. She did what she did to survive, not out of malice. So does Kade.
Elizabeth doesn’t. She does it for fun.
Does Anna?
Does Ishtar?
I cannot hope to understand Ishtar. She is an angel. If it were possible to know . . . For a long moment, Ruxandra imagined an Ishtar whose cruelty was born only from necessity, who also could love her creations; then she shook her head. This was not about Ishtar and her. It was about the innocent.
“What Ishtar may think of herself is not what I came here to talk about.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I can’t hit her.”
“What?”
“Ishtar,” Ruxandra said. “I can’t hit her.”
The Alchemist’s eyebrows went up. “Why did you want to hit her?”
“Because she told Anna the Metropolitan wanted the Jews out of the city. So Anna sent her men to attack them and rape the girls.”
“I did not know.” The Alchemist’s her voice caught on the words, and she looked away.
“Ishtar should not have suggested it,” Ruxandra said. “When I went to rip her throat out, I couldn’t.”
The Alchemist shrugged. “Maybe you care more about her than you think, Ruxandra. Killing is not easy.”
“I have done it enough times before.”
“Yes. But this the one who made you.”
“It’s not permanent for her.”
“Even so. Don’t you want to know her? Talk to her?” The Alchemist peered at her, looking like a great beaky bird, so intelligent, so kind—how could she understand what monsters were truly capable of? She’d been beaten, yes, and seen her friends beaten, but she had not seen what Ruxandra had.
“She will not stop unless I stop her. Whatever I may feel is irrelevant. And I do not believe for a moment that I am stopping myself.”
The Alchemist rubbed her chin as she thought about it. “Magic?”
“Didn’t feel like it.” Ruxandra looked at her hand, remembering the sensation. “It was different from when Alexi’s men stopped me. With him I couldn’t move. With her . . . I didn’t want to move. It felt wrong to attack.”
“And you are sure . . . ?”
“Yes. Have you heard of it happening before?”
The Alchemist chuckled. “My princess, there is no precedent for any of this.”
Ruxandra nodded. “Is Kurkov here?”
“Asleep in one of the bedrooms.” The Alchemist pointed to the balcony. “Up there, in the back, follow the long hallway. I doubt he can explain it, though.”
“I know,” Ruxandra said. “But perhaps he’ll know where to look.”
It turned out he didn’t.
For six hours they combed through the books. Ruxandra told him everything that had happened. Like the Alchemist, Kurkov had not heard of such a thing before. She searched the books and scrolls in the languages she knew and found no reference. He put a pile of materials together in the languages that she didn’t know, promising to have the others look over it. “But my dear, the world is full of mysteries. I have been investigating them my whole life, and the more I learn, the more I realize how much there is to learn. I don’t believe anyone knows much about these creatures, the fallen angels, or ever has known. This is why we wished to hear from her, after all.”
“She’s not going to tell me. I have to figure it out myself.”
“As you wish.”
Ruxandra stopped by Kade’s table on her way out. Six books lay on top of it in a tidy stack. She opened the one on top. The lines and whorls that covered the page looked like nothing Ruxandra had seen before.
The books in the vampire language. There might be something there. But Kade said it took a long time to translate the little bit he knows. I can’t wait.
Ruxandra glared at the books as if that would bring another solution. Much to her dismay, it did.
Ishtar would understand it.
Chapter 17
It was not a happy thought. The idea of asking Ishtar for help to read the vampire books made gall rise and stick in her throat, oozing bitterness and anger. She was certain Ishtar would guess why she wanted to know, and then either refuse in order to protect herself or demand concessions. What does she want from me? For me to play the adoring daughter? I can’t. But if Kade could not translate the works, there was no one else.
If. It’s an if. I will talk to Kade first.
She sighed, left the church, and walked back to Kade’s house. He wasn’t home, which surprised her. Ruxandra climbed the stairs to her room. She sat in the chair and stared at the small fire, letting her body relax. She could stay still for days if need be. That said, she was in no mood for it. Too many thoughts ran through her brain, beginning with how to extricate Anna and the country from Ishtar’s clutches. That made her wonder how Ishtar had seduced Delfino so fast, which led her to remember Ishtar’s kiss.
Which led to her stripping off her clothes and going to Kade’s bedroom.
He slipped in an hour after sunrise, wrapped in a heavy cloak. He stopped at the door, mouth half-open in surprise. Ruxandra lay naked on her stomach, legs parted just enough to let him see. She looked over her sho
ulder and smiled.
For the next few hours, they spoke few words, which was comforting in its own way.
“That was not what I was expecting.” Kade propped his head up on his hand. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Good.” Ruxandra closed her eyes, savoring the last of the ache between her thighs. “Because I needed that.”
“As you did yesterday,” Kade said. “Same reason?”
“Yes.” Ruxandra sighed. “She gets in my mind and then . . .”
“You need to drive her out.” Kade touched her face, ran his hand down her neck to rest on her breast. “Glad to help.”
“I had noticed.” Ruxandra put her hand on him. “I’m noticing it again.”
Someone knocked on the front door.
Dammit.
Kade sighed. “Much as I wish to leave that for the servants, no one calls on this house without a reason.”
Kade rolled out of bed and to his feet. Ruxandra reached out with her mind. A second later she threw the covers off and ran from the room.
“Ruxandra?” Kade’s voice sounded both concerned and amused.
“There is no way I am talking to her naked,” she called over her shoulder. “Keep her busy.”
She poured water into her basin and washed from face to feet in a moment. It took another moment to put on clean underclothes and the gray dress, a third to braid her hair. She thought about shoes and stockings, but knew they would take too long. Ruxandra looked in the mirror.
Almost respectable, she decided. Not quite, but close enough.
Which will have to do.
She walked down to the parlor.
“Ruxandra, darling.” Ishtar sat on the couch, a smile on her face. “How are you, my daughter?”
“I am not your daughter.” The response was automatic, the pain profound. Ishtar, in this incarnation, did look like her mother, though without the soft brown eyes and aura of kindness Ruxandra remembered.
“You are, like it or not,” Ishtar said. “And I am glad to see you, though I have to admit Kade is the one I came to visit today.”
“And you have.” Kade stepped out from the dining room. “Nika will bring tea.”