So far her game hadn't been too affected. They'd each already earned forty points, fairly easily, but then they had not encountered Bowen - who might frown on their growing tally.
In fact, she'd heard from Regin that the Lykae had taken out most of the competitors who'd gone up against him. In just one task, two of the demons, the young witch, and the elven hunters had all gone missing, rumored to be imprisoned somehow.
Bowen hadn't been disqualified, so they couldn't be dead, but the competition was lost for them.
Kaderin also had heard that Mariketa had managed to fling off a curse at Bowen - one of the worst for an immortal. If true, then Bowen would cease regenerating from injuries.
Kaderin knew she'd face Bowen soon enough, and when she did, she would strike first. For now, she needed to stay focused. She simply couldn't get used to Sebastian's care of her, couldn't get used to his watching over her as she slept.
One night, she'd awakened, blinking up at him. "Why do you keep coming back just to sit beside my bed?"
Seeming surprised by the question, he'd answered in a gravelly voice, "This is... satisfying. To me. I find it deeply so."
Before she'd turned onto her other side, she'd studied his face, trying to understand him, but only became convinced she never would.
Then, last night, she'd had yet another nightmare. She seemed to be plagued with them, as if compensating for her eternity of dreamless nights.
She definitely could not get used to his enfolding her in his warm, strong arms to soothe her, rubbing her back, rumbling, "Shh, Katja," against her hair.
Though Kaderin didn't yet know this, Sebastian had basically moved into her London residence, since she never traveled there, preferring to sleep on her plane or in hotels.
Showering in her flat was more convenient and had other advantages, such as the water not being melted snow. Sebastian enjoyed sleeping in her bed, imagining her there with him.
Not far down the street, there was a bookstore and a butcher, and both stayed open after dark. Not to mention that the flat had a refrigerator - which was convenience itself - and remote controls. Beautiful things. He was really enjoying this new time now that he was immersed in it. Even the Lore in general was growing on him - because it was her world.
Each sunset, he traced to her. A couple of nights, he'd found her asleep with her sword. As ever, she would sleep fitfully, as though in pain. Other nights, he caught her nearing some prize. If she ran into difficulty, he would swoop one up for her, then go back and take one for himself, just so another couldn't have it.
He would be patient. This union was supposed to be for eternity - it followed that their courtship would be extended. He wasn't a patient man, but he could do whatever it took to get what he wanted.
Wondering what he would find tonight, he traced to her, arriving in yet another hotel room. But she wasn't in the bed, nor did he hear her in the shower.
The room's balcony doors were opened, overlooking a valley lit by a half-moon. He crossed to them and found her unconscious. She was lying on her front, one arm stretched out for her sword, which was covered in mud and blood. He lifted her gingerly, but she moaned in pain. He realized with a surge of fury that she'd just made it inside.
Damn it, what is it about this prize? Why would she continue to risk herself like this? He'd asked her repeatedly, sure to voice his opinion of the key. "Why do you want it so badly?" he'd asked. "The key won't do as it's purported. So is it just winning the competition? For ego or for posterity?"
"Posterity?" she'd answered with a quirked brow. "Do you mean in the progeny sense or notoriety after death? Because neither is forthcoming."
Now he flinched, wishing he could take the pain for her. When he wet a washcloth and wiped her down, she moaned again. Dark, mottled bruises marred her skin all over. Gritting his teeth with anger, he dressed her in his shirt and put her to bed, sitting beside her in the room's one chair.
He found himself feeling as if they were married already. He didn't know if this was a symptom of the blooding, but he found himself thinking of her as a wife - one who despised him, wouldn't share his bed, and, worse, wouldn't allow him to protect her.
And he continued dreaming about her each night, staggeringly vivid dreams.
In many dreams, Kaderin spoke in an old language he had no knowledge of, yet he understood her. He heard her thoughts, felt her fears. Once he'd dreamed she was on a battlefield, absently marking the severed heads of vampires she'd killed, carving an X with her sword as she sought her next fight. He now knew she was marking them to come back for their fangs later.
The more of her memories he garnered about the Horde, the more he instinctively knew he would never join their number. Since he'd taken Kaderin's blood from her body, he'd never experienced even the slightest urge to drink another. He'd been around humans since then and hadn't even thought about it.
Near dawn, when he saw she was sleeping soundly, he finally nodded off, swiftly becoming immersed in a scene from her past.
He could tell from Kaderin's clothing that it was in the early nineteen hundreds. She was hastening after a raven-haired female named Furie - their half-Valkyrie, half-Fury queen. Furie was setting off to battle the Horde's king, because a Valkyrie soothsayer named Nïx had told her it was her destiny.
"Nïx told me you intend to fight Demestriu," Kaderin said from behind her. "But all she knows is that you're not coming back. I want to go with you and make sure that you do."
Furie turned. Overall, she resembled Kaderin's kind - delicately built with feylike features - but Furie had more prominent fangs and claws. Her eyes were striking but odd, with dark rings around irises of a vivid purplish color. She could not have passed as a human as Kaderin could. "You can't feel, child," Furie intoned. "How will you help me?"
Can't feel? Yes - he'd dreamed Kaderin experiencing a deep, wrenching sorrow, but it hadn't lasted long. One morning she woke... changed.
"It makes me cold," Kaderin said calmly. "It makes me good."
Something like affection might have glimmered in Furie's uncanny eyes. Then she said, "I'm fated to go alone."
"Change fate." Kaderin knew Furie would consider her words blasphemous. The Valkyrie didn't believe in chance. For them, everything happened for a reason.
"Have you lost your beliefs along with your emotions?" Furie's anger was building. Kaderin could sense it like animals sense storms, but it didn't deter her. "Only a coward would try to escape her fate. Remember that, Kaderin." She continued on.
"No, I'm going with you," Kaderin insisted, hurrying to her side.