Chapter 29
29
ELENA
“ D on’t be afraid.”
Elena stared at the demon incredulously, her blue eyes wide. She had been a fool to think she had the right to summon anything—be it demon, angel, or saint. Even if Niko were here, could he defend her? His gift worked in concert with Katerina’s. He was meant to aid a Dimi.
Elena was on her own.
“I won’t hurt you,” the demon said, opening his hands at his sides as if to show he meant her no harm. She had never been so close to a Grigori before, but she’d always imagined them as fearsome, ruthless beasts regardless of the circumstances. This one was smiling at her, a guileless grin that reached his eyes. “Really, you are far too pretty to harm.”
Elena got to her feet and cocked her head. She was used to compliments of this kind.
“Indeed,” she said, putting her fear and sadness aside with an effort. She would need her wits about her if she were to survive. “You mean to tell me all that was needed to stop the war between us was to place myself on the front lines? If only I’d known, I would have made the sacrifice long ago.”
The demon laughed, and the sound caressed Elena’s skin—a silken scarf, slipping over her body. “Beautiful and charming. How happy I am that it is you who summoned me.”
“But how did I summon you?” Elena said, emboldened. “I called on saints and angels for help. Clearly, you are neither.”
“Clearly,” the demon said, brushing a fallen leaf from the shoulder of his linen shirt.
“Then how?—”
His full lips pursed. “Would you believe me if I told you I am not certain? Something in the balance of your world has changed. There are—openings, shall we say, that did not exist before. Places where the veil between what you would call good and evil has thinned.”
Something that’s changed. Openings that didn’t exist before. Elena would be willing to gamble that this disturbance was due to Katerina’s bewitchment of Niko. To the prophecy coming true just as Baba Petrova always told them it would.
She hadn’t thought it was possible for her to hate Katerina any more than she already did—but she’d been wrong. The Dimi was destroying the fabric of everything they depended on to survive.
Everyone knew that Dimi and Shadows weren’t meant to be lovers. But had Katerina listened? Of course not. She thought she was better, stronger than everyone else around her. That she didn’t answer to the same laws.
And now look what had happened. Elena, the disciple of a saint, was standing in the middle of a desecrated chapel, having a conversation with a demon.
The demon in question studied her, dark eyes flickering over her face. “You have thought of something troubling, I see. Would it be untoward of me to inquire what it might be?”
He sounded genuinely concerned, and Elena considered confiding in him. But as nice as he was being to her—and by nice , she meant he hadn’t eaten her yet—he was still a demon. “You’re a stranger,” she said, erring on the side of politeness, “and I’m not in the habit of sharing my innermost thoughts with strangers. Also, we’re sworn enemies.”
“Not personally,” the demon said, sounding affronted, “but I take your point. Let me introduce myself. My name is Sammael. It means ‘Venom of God.’ I’ve thought of changing it, but the company I usually keep doesn’t seem to mind.”
Despite her misery, a giggle escaped Elena, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified. It had never occurred to her that demons had a sense of humor. But Sammael— “You’re not just a Watcher,” Elena said as the weight of his name sunk in. “You’re…you were an Archangel.”
The demon shrugged. “I was. But as you see, I didn’t find the company of Heaven too much to my liking, either.” He winked at her. “Now you,” he went on, as if this were a perfectly normal conversation, “are a companion of an entirely different ilk. For you, I would consider a pseudonym, should you make such a request.”
“Sammael is fine,” Elena said between her fingers.
“If you prefer. And who might you be?”
“You know my name.” The words scorched her throat. “I said it, when I called you.”
“Ah. But then, you did not know I was the one who would answer. I would far prefer you gave it to me freely.”
The damage had already been done; she’d laughed at the demon’s joke, made a jest of her own, and accepted his compliments. Elena sighed and dropped her hand. “I am Elena Lisova, Vila of Kalach.”
Sammael inclined his head. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Elena of Kalach. If you weren’t summoning me, you were certainly summoning someone . I heard your call for aid. Perhaps if you share your troubles with me, it will be in my power to offer succor.”
“You’re a demon,” Elena blurted, before she could stop herself. “Demons don’t make things better; they destroy. Why would you want to help me?”
“If I may,” Sammael said, gesturing in her direction. She nodded and he approached slowly, sitting down on the moss-covered steps that led to the altar. From this position, he looked non-threatening, like any of the village boys. Or men, rather—now that she had the chance to study him at close range, he appeared to be in his early twenties, without the lankiness that characterized so many of the boys who had not yet grown into their height. He had ginger eyebrows and an endearing freckle on the right side of his nose.
Of course, this was just the form Sammael had selected for the occasion. For all Elena knew, he was five hundred twenty-nine years old and more truly resembled a blacksnake.
“Well,” he said, tracing a finger along the meandering line of moss, “perhaps I would like to correct the impression you have of my kind, which understandably is not all that positive.”
Elena suppressed a snort. “You could say that.”
“Perhaps I am intrigued that you may have the answer to the question that has been plaguing the Grigori: what has caused this mysterious shift that gives us greater strength, and weakens the wards between worlds? If I assist you, you might be kind enough to assist me as well. Perhaps you have merely caught me in a good mood. Or perhaps,” he said, looking directly into her eyes, “I like you, Elena Lisova. It is not often I have the opportunity to have a conversation with a lovely, charming Vila.”
“ Perhaps ,” Elena retorted, “that’s because you’re too busy slitting our throats or carting us off to be ransomed like chattel.”
This time Sammael threw his head back, giving a full-throated laugh that took Elena by surprise. She wasn’t used to coming up with snappy, sarcastic retorts. That was Katerina’s territory. But here she was, making a demon guffaw.
Maybe Elena had been so busy buying into everyone else’s perception of who she was meant to be—kind, pliant, gentle—that she’d never figured out her true identity. She liked this new version of herself a great deal. But what did it say that it had taken the worst betrayal of her life and a conversation with a demon to bring it out in her? And was she dishonoring her vow to Sant Viktoriya by the very notion?
“Touché,” Sammael said when he stopped laughing at last. “But I may be of use to you, just the same. Tell me, what are you doing out here alone, calling on forces we both know Vila are not in the habit of summoning?”
Elena bit her lip, undecided whether to speak. My Shadow has committed the unthinkable with his Dimi. She has bewitched him, I know it. But I can fix it. I just need enough power, enough strength to set him free.
“You have no reason to believe me.” Sammael’s voice was soft. “But I truly wish to help you—if such a thing is possible.”
Elena had no magic except the blood gift that allowed her to give birth to Vila and Shadowchildren. But she’d called, and the Dark had answered. Perhaps she was wrong to fear it. What if the Saints had heard her prayer and pitied her? What if they’d sent Sammael to her to give her the strength she needed to make things right?
Maybe the Saints intended Sammael to gift her with magic, enough to become more powerful than Katerina. Maybe they meant her to rescue Niko from the spell the Dimi had cast upon him, and put Katerina in her place once and for all.
She couldn’t go to Baba Petrova or the Elder Council for help. What if they held Niko responsible for the fulfillment of the prophecy, believing that he was acting of his own free will, and punished him terribly? What if they cast him out or even killed him? They would never listen to Elena if she protested; Vila’s opinions weren’t held in high regard, not like Dimis’. She had to find another way to save Niko’s soul and make Katerina pay.
She’d called on Sant Viktoriya. This had been the answer to her prayer. To ignore or dismiss it would be to dishonor the saint she revered.
Elena looked into Sammael’s dark eyes, fixed on hers with an expectant, sincere expression, then down at the moss that sprang up between the stones of the altar. Katerina would know what it could do, she thought. If it could hurt or heal.
She dug her fingers into the moss, ripping it free of its moorings, and told the demon everything. He listened as she poured out her heart, not interrupting once, treating her tale with the attention it deserved. When she finished, he said only, “That is a terrible story indeed, Elena Lisova. I wish I could be of service to you, for a lovely woman such as yourself deserves better than such a betrayal.”
Elena sniffed, wiping away her tears. “My betrayal is the least of it,” she said, looking up at him through clumped lashes. “This could mean the end of Iriska. I know you’d likely love nothing more than that, but I’ve dedicated my life to upholding the mission of the Saints. I have to do something. But what?” The tears flowed harder, streaking her cheeks.
She felt a gentle touch on her arm. When she looked up, the demon was extending a handkerchief to her. It was such an absurd sight, she almost laughed. “Thank you,” she said, taking it and blowing her nose.
“You are most welcome. At least I could perform that small service for you.” He smiled at her. “Tell me, Elena—this Dimi. What is her name?”
Perhaps Elena shouldn’t tell him. Her instinct to protect Kalach ran deep. But surely the harm here had already been done. “Katerina Ivanova,” she said.
The demon’s red brows rose. “The name is familiar to me,” he said. “Is that not the Dimi that vanquished the Grigori on the road to Drezna?”
Of course, he knew who Katerina was. “Yes,” she admitted. “Along with the Shadow to whom I’m betrothed. It wouldn’t have been possible without him.”
The demon stroked a finger across his chin. “I see,” was all he said. “It occurs to me—well, never mind.”
Elena leaned forward, eyes on his face. “Never mind what?”
“It’s nothing.” He looked down at the moss between his feet.
“Have you thought of something that could help me?” She didn’t bother to suppress the eagerness in her voice. “If you have, please tell me.”
“Your Saints matter so much to you,” he said, sounding reluctant. “Even on short acquaintance, I can tell that. And I hesitate to voice an idea that might add to your misery.”
Elena gave a harsh laugh. It scraped at her throat, already sore from crying. “My misery is at a peak. I doubt there’s anything you could say that would add to it.”
He glanced sideways at her, his expression almost shy. “Did you not say that this Dimi commands all four elements? I have lived a long time, and rarely seen the like. And she was near Drezna when the Darkness devoured it. I only wonder…is it possible that the two events are connected?”
At first, Elena didn’t understand what he meant. Then she did, and her eyes sprang wide. “Are…are you saying that Katerina is the cause of the Darkness? That she’s possessed by it? That she is…an agent of the Dark?”
The demon shrugged, looking away from Elena, as if he didn’t want to see the effect that his revelation might have. And well he might; Elena’s mind was racing.
It was true that Katerina had been close by when Drezna fell. That she had accomplished what no Dimi had ever done, slaying so many Grigori on her own, with only the aid of her Shadow. That she had seduced Niko. Her brazen attitude…her arrogance…it all fit. Maybe the events of recent weeks were due to more than her flagrant violation of the prophecy. Maybe Katerina was so powerful because her gifts came not from the Light, but from the Dark.
Maybe she’d been sent to Kalach by the Darkness from the start, to test them. And kind, pure Niko had fallen victim to her wiles.
Elena had been a fool not to see it before. But she saw it now, and just in time. She, a humble Vila, would defend Iriska against the corrupt Dimi who threatened to infect them all.
She’d always known that she was meant for something greater. Perhaps this was her destiny.
“I need to save him,” she whispered. “To save all of them, before we ride out for Rivki. But what can I do?”
The demon cleared his throat. “If you would meet me here tomorrow,” he said, gesturing to the ruins of the ancient chapel, “I might have an idea.”