Page 77 of Vow of the Undead
“How is she?” he asked.
All tension melted as quickly as a snowflake in Mara. I released my fingers from where I’d buried them in the fabric of my skirts and reached for the fire. The blue tips wouldn’t turn pink for upwards of an hour, if at all, but the heat of the flames soothed my soul as it promised even a little help.
“Not much better,” I said as I sat on a rock by the fire. “There is nothing I can do for her other than attend to the wound King Drakkar left and keep her fever tempered. If the king hadn’t fed on her, I believe she’d still be awake.”
His jaw shifted. “We cannot wait for her to wake for you to trust me. You need to pass Loki’s trial.”
“Loki’s yes, but I’m not a killer, Kayn.”
“You can’t kill what isn’t alive.”
I gritted my teeth, knowing he’d let me stew in the quiet. I wanted to wield the same weapon as him; silence. Every timehe sealed his lips and refused to explain more, I was further and further from trusting him, from accepting his message. I needed to hear it from my mother’s lips. Only then would I consider the task of wiping monsters from this world.
Kayn didn’t even deign to tell me the details of why he wanted me to eradicate all of his kind—including him. He only mentioned caring for a human, but he seemed more alone than even me.
My skin prickled. Was this all a lie? He’d led me to my mother, he’d fought King Drakkar for me, but I knew nothing else about him.
“Alive or not, it still feels like killing,” I said.
He sighed. “When a vampire is struck in the heart with a wooden stake, we turn to dust. It isn’t like stabbing a human where there is suffering and blood. It isn’t killing, it is destroying. A vampire can also be decapitated, though the body must be burned after or we may return our head to our shoulders and resume existence.”
I pulled my hands back into my lap and him from over the steam. “And you think I, a simple girl from Skaldir, can cut off a monster’s head?”
“I’ve heard you speaking with Stasia, I know you trained in secret with your friends back home, but beyond that, the Gods have?—”
“Chosen me,” I finished for him. “So you’ve said.”
“You don’t believe me?” His brow peaked as he took a seat on a rock on the other side of the fire. Hair fell into his face and he looked all the more my shadow as the flames cast dancing, erratic light over the darkness surrounding him.
“How can I believe what you barely say?”
I scooted to the edge of the rock and reached for the stone spoon. Swirling it around the soup, notes of warm honey and squash filled my nose. Stasia was a wonder with food. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was a witch and her particular power was cooking something from nothing.
My stomach growled with impatience. Ignoring it, I eyed Kayn.
Instead of biting back with a clever retort like King Drakkar, he remained silent.
The longer the silence stretched the more frustration swelled within me. I couldn’t stay quiet another second.
“Why are you consumed with the thought of me killing your kind?” I asked. “It doesn’t make sense and paints you as cruel as the king.”
Though I supposed destroying bloodthirsty monsters for Odin and Freya wasn’t akin to feeding on the blood of innocent humans. Still, I couldn’t comprehend why a monster himself would pressure me to take up this call when it’d only end in his own destruction.
He scrubbed his hand over his chin, his brown eyes staring into the flames as he thought.
I tried to ignore the silence before I leaped over the flames and strangled a response out of him. That’d likely only further convince him that I was destined to become the chosen killer of his kind.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Perhaps I’d spent too many hours beside Stasia in the past few days.
I ripped my gaze from Kayn, and busied myself, dipping a spoon into the sweet soup and filling my mouth with the brew before I screamed at him.You’re my last connection to my mother, tell me why you sought her out. Tell me everything she told you. Mostly, tell me why the fuck she trustedyouof all creatures.
The soup warmed my throat and trickled down my chest. Sweetness lingered on my tongue, but not as satisfying as the cinnamon sweet buns, so I picked up the cloth of honey and let more drain into the pot.
After what felt like the entire Polar Nocturne, Kayn sucked in a breath and leaned forward, his elbows on his splayed legs. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you for a very long time.” I hummed my acknowledgement, just enough to encouragehim to keep talking but not so demanding that he shied away from me. “I’d almost lost hope when Ingrid vanished.” I looked up at him now, unable to tamper my interest. “She was a witch too, chosen for this task of destroying us vampires. She’d connected with Odin and Freya, but it did not last, and I was left alone again to wander the graves.”
“Wander the graves? Do you walk out here every night?”
Did he miss this woman? Or was she just another target of the Gods that he shadowed? Had he grown impatient with her and insisted she kill vampires too? Kayn never spoke of others but I couldn’t help wondering if he’d cared for someone once, a mother, a friend, or perhaps a child, even a lover…
