
The bus driver eyed me up and down, confusion sweeping across his weathered face. "You lost or somethin', doll?"
I shifted my weight, but kept my chin up and my gaze firmly fixed on his. "I guess not, since I haven't been waiting here just to ask you for directions."
His hard gaze narrowed in scrutiny. I pictured myself through his eyes, foreign and out-of-place against the graffiti-covered buildings and littered sidewalks. My long, curly black hair smelled of shampoo and conditioner, and my black blouse and matching skirt had been freshly pressed. The few places that exposed my skin revealed it to be a light, creamy caramel. Black leggings hugged my legs, disappearing into a brand new pair of black leather boots. Light makeup coated my face, making me appear younger than seventeen, and a light black coat was draped over one arm, concealing the dagger tucked into my belt.
I cleared my throat. "If it's all the same to you, I have somewhere I need to be."
The driver spit into a dirty Styrofoam cup and pulled a tin of tobacco chew from his pocket. He stuffed another wad in his cheek, lips curling over his dingy teeth in a predatory grin. "It ain't gonna be cheap, cupcake. My rent's overdue, and you look like you ain't hurtin'."
I stepped on board, jaw clenched. "You'll get what the fare is worth. And maybe a decent tip if you don't ask questions."
The driver's brows rose, and though his grin widened, he made no objections or crude comments as I half-expected. After plugging the appropriate change into the meter, I eased past him. His hungry eyes followed my rear and I cringed as he licked his lips. I tried to move as quickly as I could away from him, praying he couldn't hear the jangling of all the guns and knives hidden beneath my clothing.
My deep brown eyes furtively scanned the bus, which was deserted, save for myself and the driver. Inside, my nerves slightly unwound. So far, everything had fired off without a hitch, and I refused to let myself think about the very real possibility that I could be dead by the end of the night.
The aisles were so coated in dirt and grime that they appeared filmy, and I slipped as the bus lurched away from the curb. My nose wrinkled as I sat down on a cracked seat, its stuffing poking out through the loose stitching. The bus had probably been nicer back in the day, before the Eclipse made civilization go all medieval. It definitely wasn't standard public transportation; my guess was it had been used for long distance commercial travel once upon a time, back when Halloween meant scores of children dressed in costumes and not the night when America lost a third of its population to ravenous monsters.
At the front of the bus, just above the driver, was a small TV. Its scratched screen showed live coverage of the downtown Pittsburgh White Sector, where the remaining citizens of Pennsylvania were now gathered in Market Square to commemorate the tragedy that had struck three years ago tonight, on All Hallow's Eve. Hundreds of people -- all dressed in black and cupping tiny red candles -- stood before the stage, where a podium with a microphone was set up. An enormous black clock stood sentinel next to the podium, a reminder of how things used to be in the square, long ago.
It still blew my mind how fast everything had changed. Market Square had been one of my favorite parts of the city, alive with bustling shops and restaurants. When he was alive, my dad would take my brother and me to Winghart's Burger and Whiskey Bar as a rare, special treat. The square was also home to one of my single favorite events of the year, Zombie Fest, where thousands (all dressed as the famous undead) would gather for a food drive to feed the city's less fortunate. My friends and I went every year, that is, up until the Eclipse, when the event kind of fell apart. It had promptly been disbanded by our Sector's Sovereign (or elected leader).
I glanced at the bus clock. The digital, scrolling marquee read 7:55 PM, exactly five minutes from when the ceremony was scheduled to commence.
Somehow, sitting here on this bus -- the first leg of the long journey ahead -- made the situation and my mission startling real in my mind. My heart picked up speed and my palms slicked with sweat. I suddenly felt grossly unprepared for what I intended to do, despite nearly a year's worth of carefully laid plans.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I focused on my breathing. When I opened them, I immediately scowled. On the back of the seat in front of me, someone had carved ONLY GOD, DIAMONDS, AND VAMPIRES LAST FOREVER.
Not forever. Not if I can help it.
My fingertips idly traced the inside of my right wrist, where a tiny tattoo of a black cross lay etched into my skin, marking me as a vampire hunter.
The mention of vampires conjured an image in my mind, a memory of a boy with light brown skin and short black curls much like my own.
Orion. My twin.
My mind always picked the same image. It was my last good memory of him, of his proud, bright smile as he waved the acceptance letter in his hand, declaring him a student of the prestigious Pittsburgh private school, Winchester Thurston. His smile grew even bigger when he read the part that he'd been awarded a full-ride, something that rarely happened at Winchester. When he showed our mother, it was the first time I could ever recall her looking genuinely pleased.
"He's the best of us all," she had said.
My brilliant, ambitious brother, too smart for his own good. Someday, he wanted to run for president, and there was just something about him -- that "destined-for-greatness-sparkle" - that made me believe he could succeed.
Staring at him in my mind, my face grew hot with shame.
I'm so sorry, Orion.
Applause from the TV interrupted my brooding, and I glanced up as a strong, proud woman -- Sovereign McAllister, leader of the Pennsylvania White Sector -- strode on stage, coming to stand before the microphone. Her smile was warm and sympathetic as she thanked her audience, but I knew her blue eyes were cold as ice.
My eyes shrank to slits.
Mother.
I knew it would be a while before she discovered me missing, and I hoped I would be far away from here before she sent her Scarlet Guard to retrieve me. All the same, I tensed as the driver turned up the volume and the first threads of her speech drifted through the bus right before my phone chirped in my coat pocket.
I jumped, my heart rate spiking in my chest, as I fished for my cell phone. I flipped it open, not bothering to check the Caller ID.
"Where are you?" Leo growled into my ear.
I almost smiled at the familiar ferocity in his voice. It had never changed since the day we first met, back in the third grade when he had fended off some bullies from hurting me on the playground. We'd been inseparable ever since.
"I'm downtown, at the memorial service," I said calmly. "I really don't have time to talk right now. If my mother caught me on the phone --"
"Don't lie to me, Sloane," Leo said, voice low and dangerous. "You're not downtown. And I know you took my dagger."
My thumb stroked the hilt of the sheathed blade. "Don't be ridiculous." My voice warbled on the end and I silently swore. I was never good at keeping secrets from Leo.
"I knew it!" He sighed hard, and I imagined him running his hands through his spiky black hair in classic Leo fashion. "That weapon's state-of-the-art, one of like ten in existence right now. If my father finds out --"
"Then I guess you better not tell him." I had hoped Leo wouldn't realize it had ever been moved, thinking he would be downtown, but he must have decided to train tonight.
Zealous overachiever, I thought wryly.
"Look," I said, "I'm just going to borrow it for a few hours, then I'll give it back. Promise."
Leo's voice was tight. "You know my father put an enormous amount of trust in letting me practice with it. For you to do this to me, Sloane..."
I bit my lip, feeling the slightest bit guilty for betraying Leo's confidence. His father worked for the government as a weapon's engineer, and was one of the developers of Scarlet Steel, a metal as strong as steel but with the corrosive properties of acid (which gave it its red coloring). It was top secret, but Leo had managed to find out it could decompose a vampire -- skin and bone -- within seconds if the blade penetrated deep enough.
I prayed it would work if I actually had to use it tonight. "I'm sorry, Leo. But you never let me train with anything more exciting than regular knives and swords."
"Tch. You don't need Scarlet Steel to be deadly. You're the fastest close-in fighter I've ever taught."
My chest swelled with pride. "Well, I had a good teacher. But I promise I won't get a scratch on your baby."
"It's not the dagger I'm worried about," he said softly.
My heart fluttered, and an unexpected blush crept to my cheeks. "I'll be fine, trust me. I'm just going to practice with it solo tonight at home, and then I'll give it back to you before your father ever realizes it's missing."
The bus must have been wired with an automatic speaker system, because right then a woman said loudly, "Next stop, Cherry Hills Mall."
I froze, holding my breath. Please let Leo not have heard that!
There was a large pause on the other end. "Wait... did she just say Cherry Hills?"
My lips pressed together. This was Leo, my best friend for over eight years. Should I just tell him I had flat-out lied to him? Could I somehow convince him he'd misheard, and hope he would drop the subject?
Who am I kidding? This is Leo. He'd never let it go. I was so tense with indecision that my shoulders were painfully scrunched up around my neck.
There was another pause on the other end. I heard Leo draw a sharp breath as he pieced the puzzle pieces together. "There's a gate in that district," he murmured. "You're planning on going into the Red Sector to look for Orion, aren't you?"
Busted. "No," I whispered weakly.
Leo swore. "Don't do this, Sloane. No one blames you for what happened. You couldn't have known..."
"I know," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady as the image of my brother swam before my eyes, accompanied by a heavy wave of guilt. "But you heard what the Scarlet Guard said. Thinking he's dead isn't the same thing as knowing. I have to at least try. I owe him that much."
"Not your life! The Red Sectors are forbidden for a reason, Sloane, because they're dangerous, vampire-infested hell holes. Look, just because the media's telling us they've been secured, that they're abandoned and supposedly 'safe' now, doesn't make it so. They're anything but that. If you go in there alone, you'll be ripped apart."
I blanched, swallowing against the tide of vomit rising in my throat. "I know the dangers. And I'm prepared to take the risk."
"It's been three years, Sloane," Leo said. "The chances of him surviving are slim to none."
That comment stabbed straight into my heart, which should have been completely calloused over from the emotional beating it had endured these past three years. Somewhere along the way, I had simply refused to stop listening every time someone told me Orion was dead.
We don't know that for sure, I wanted to tell them. He could be alive, waiting for someone to rescue him.
"He wouldn't give up on me," I said firmly. "And I'm going, so just drop it."
The phone call abruptly ended. I called Leo's name a few times, but there was no response. Maybe the call had been dropped. Reception -- and electricity, in general -- grew more unstable the farther out one went in the sector, and I was on the far eastern boundary. No one exactly knew why it did this. Still, I couldn't erase the feeling that something was wrong as the bus hobbled to a stop.
This is it, I told myself. In a few minutes, with any luck, you'll be in the Red Sector.
Shaking slightly, I rose to my feet. Despite my efforts to remain calm, my knees trembled as I made my way to the front of the bus. I looked up at the TV just as my mother's speech went silent, replaced by a vibrant red screen that said BREAKING NEWS in the center. A news anchor appeared, with a picture of a pretty, teenage girl to her upper left.
The color drained from my face as I stared back at my senior portrait.
Oh God. Leo, you didn't!
All the sound faded away, and I barely registered that the anchor was rattling off my description and something about a high dollar reward for a tip leading to my whereabouts. Panic surged through me, and I gripped one of the cold metal handrails to keep myself upright, suppressing the urge to fret about my plan falling apart before my very eyes.
Think, Sloane! What are you going to do?
The way I saw it, I had two options. I could let the Scarlet Guard seize me and drag me back to my mother's wrath. Or I could run, hoping I made it to the fence before the Guard could catch up to me. Maybe then I could get away from them in the unknown dangers of the Red Sector. And honestly, given the choice of facing my mother or a vampire, I think I would always choose the latter.
My skin tingled with the sensation of being watched, and my eyes rose to meet the driver's in the rearview mirror. His eyes were squinted, flicking back and forth from the TV screen to my face and growing wider each time. His hand slowly sank into his pocket. Without hesitation, I reached beneath my skirt to my thigh and whipped out a small, silencer-rigged pistol as he put the phone to his face.
His fingers paused over the keypad. Holding the pistol in one hand, I walked up to him until the barrel was only an inch from the back of his head. "Drop it," I commanded, and the phone clattered to the floor. I picked it up, and stuck it in my coat pocket.
The driver coughed and spit blackened chew on the floor, right at my feet. "Think I've never had a gun put to my head, little girl? Seems you're worth a lot of money. You know somethin'? Ain't nobody out here but me and you. And they didn't say anything about you bein' dead or alive."
My breath caught in my throat as his other hand appeared, cocking the trigger of a large, menacing black handgun. I had enough control of my senses to swing my foot up, kicking it from his hand as he fired a shot, shattering the front window. The gun hit the dash and fell to the floor. As the driver scrambled to recover the weapon, I threw open the door and stumbled outside, landing hard on the cool pavement. My kneecaps flared with pain, but the sound of another gunshot propelled me to my feet, and I tore off down the street as he radioed the Scarlet Guard.
A brand new Scarlet Steel factory loomed ahead of me, ominous and black against the red, particle-saturated sky. Though Leo said Scarlet Steel posed no threat to humans, the government built their factories in the least inhabited zones, "as a precaution," Leo had quoted his father. It made me sick to think that they cared so little for the lives of the destitute who still lived out here.
Though it wasn't quite so bad downtown, the atmosphere here was bulging with Scarlet Steel particles, making the filtered moonlight appear red. Though I had seen a full lunar eclipse (the moon had rusted over the night of the Eclipse), seeing it appear as though it had been dipped in blood was an entirely unsettling feeling. But the eerie moonlight was the least of my problems, and I focused more on my surroundings as my foot found a pothole. My ankle painfully twisted before I caught myself and continued running, teeth clenched tightly together.
I had spent some time in this part of the city before it became a sector, so I knew the path well as I tore through the night. After the Eclipse, the city went through major rearrangements. Generally, the less wealthy lived along the outer edges of the sector -- which was shaped in a gigantic, jagged square -- while the people with money lived closer to the center, where Sovereign McAllister's mansion and all the government headquarters were located. Living there also meant an influx of Scarlet Guard, which had completely replaced our policemen. They were everywhere, locking up people for the slightest venture outside the laws my mother's Parliament had laid down. Most people had a love/hate relationship with the Guard, loving them for the protection they provided, but at the same time, fearing and even resenting them for their sometimes violent manner of dealing with even the most petty of crimes.
The heels of my boots clip-clopped like hooves across the pavement as I ran straight through the Cherry Hills Mall parking lot. Cherry Hills, like so many other locally owned businesses, sprang up after many shops and restaurants closed down, post-Eclipse (it inhabited an old building that used to be a community center). Other businesses -- thrift stores, salons, and knick-knack shops -- had planted themselves in abandoned homes or buildings. They saw a lot of business, as quite a few people still lived in this area, though most of them would be either locked up in their homes or downtown for the memorial. Nobody wanted to be roaming about on the eve of the Eclipse, as it was considered a day of ill-omen by many survivors.
Eclipse or not, this area was pretty much deserted this time of night. A forest of security cameras watched me, their wiring like vines as they choked the light poles that shone down on me. The lights flickered, yellowed and weak, as I cleared the lot and raced down a blackened alley between two stores, my boots slapping through sludge and knocking over trash bags. The putrid smell of garbage clung to my nostrils, and I gagged as I emerged on the other side.
There, narrowly more than ten feet away, was the fifty-foot tall steel fence that wrapped around the entire sector, cutting it off from the outside threat. A large sign hung near the electronic gate:
WARNING: RED SECTOR. TRESSPASING STRICTLY PROHIBITED AND PUNISHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW.
Situated next to the gate was a tiny box, blinking innocently at me with its eyes of little green lights. I stared at it, my heart pounding harder and harder inside my chest.
This was it. The moment I had been waiting three whole years for. If the code I'd stolen from Leo's father worked, I could be on the other side within a minute or two.
In my mind, Leo's warning screamed at me while I tried to convince myself to move forward, like I was going on a picnic and not a suicide mission. I swallowed hard against the knot forming in the base of my throat.
There was a high-pitched hum and then a brief patch of pure darkness as the power failed and struggled to come back to life. If I didn't make my move now -- if the electricity went out altogether -- I could lose my chance. There's no way I could scale the wall. Sirens wailed in the distance, and that was all the prodding I needed.
Racing to the box, I holstered the pistol and grabbed my cell phone, pulling up the code. I was so nervous that my fingers shook, and I punched in the seventeen-digit access code as quickly as I could. My body practically buzzed with adrenaline as I waited for the entry light to change from red to green. At last, I let out a huge sigh as a series of thick bolts slid back into the wall, unlatching the door.
The sirens were so close now that their high-pitched frequency hurt my ears. Come on. Come on, I thought as the heavy metal door slowly swung open with a groan. It felt like an eternity passed before it opened wide enough for me to go through; the gap looked to be little over a foot across, or so I estimated. My foot tapped impatiently, and I whirled around as car doors slammed shut just outside the alley. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed hold of the door and pulled as hard as I could, but my petite frame was far too weak against its crushing weight.
Without warning, the power died and my sight suddenly vanished. My breath was ragged as I flipped open my cell phone, using it as a makeshift flashlight, and I eyed the pitch black gap between the now ajar door and the fence.
Shouts echoed off the alley walls behind me as the Scarlet Guard closed in.
It's now or never.
Pulling my coat on and tossing my phone back inside a pocket, I grabbed the pistol and aimed it toward the hole. Then I edged myself through the chasm, into the darkness of the Red Sector.
I clung to the fence, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark while keeping one palm pressed flat against the cool metal, as if to ground myself to the world I was about to leave behind.
You can do this, Sloane. You have to, for your brother.
"For Orion," I whispered.
Heavy footsteps along the other side of the fence told me I didn't have time to linger. I ran without looking back.
My pupils had dilated enough for me to see clearly, and the pale moonlight bathed everything in a ghastly red light. I knew where I was -- the neighborhood I grew up in. The same place I had once called home, where pedestrians were mercilessly killed in drive-by shootings at night and where gang members once reigned supreme. A little more than three blocks to the north was my old house, the only home my father could afford on his meager wages from the textile factory. Life here was sometimes brutal, but as long as he and Orion were in my life, it didn't matter because I knew they would never let anything happen to me.
Now they're both gone, one because of you.
No matter how hard I tried to suppress it, my guilt always remained buried just beneath the surface, threatening to overtake my confidence and pride at any time. Some days I was willing to let it, but I knew I had to hang on long enough to find my brother, if he was still alive. I couldn't -- wouldn't -- give up without knowing I had done everything I could to try to bring Orion back home.
Though I tried my best to watch my footing and move as stealthily as I could, there was so much debris -- empty aluminum cans, shards of glass, broken furniture... all dropped by people in their haste to evacuate -- littered along the ground that I couldn't help but tap or stomp on something as I went. I chanced a glance behind me, sure I'd see the blood red uniforms of the Scarlet Guard closing in, but there were nothing but abandoned, run-down houses, many with bars on the windows, and the windshields of rusty, unused cars staring back at me.
Staring at the ruin around me, it was like reliving the Eclipse again. The worst part was, nobody ever saw it coming. Sure, the government was prepared for terrorists' attacks, natural disasters, and even nuclear war, but no one quite knew what to do when vampires descended upon our cities like ants, viciously killing and eating anything that moved.
There were signs along the way, leading up to that horrible night. Missing posters of children, adults, and animals alike started springing up, becoming more and more frequent until entire blocks were plastered in the faces of missing loved ones. Reports of red-eyed, shadowy creatures dominated the news and magazines. Everybody was convinced it was an elaborate hoax, something dreamt up by a group of teenagers somewhere who wanted to get a good scare out of people around Halloween.
I wished so badly it had been a prank. But on All Hallow's Eve, my life became something out of a horror film. That night was still fresh on my mind, even three years later:
I rushed home from the Miller Mansion, drenched in Orion's blood and hysterical. I threw the black Camaro into park before I'd even fully stopped, nearly tripping as I raced toward our front door. That's when the sirens went off. Confused, I whirled around, seeing people fleeing their homes. Those with cars tossed as many possessions as they could carry into the trunk and sped off as fast as they could. Others ran in all directions, their faces panicked and afraid. A door slammed behind me and my father sprang from the front porch. He glanced at the Camaro, confused, before grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me hard.
"Where is your brother, princess? Where is Orion?" he asked, a wild, desperate look in his eyes.
I stupidly sputtered something about a monster, too choked up on my own tears to make much sense. Somewhere down the block, people began screaming, followed by snarls that made me ice cold with fear.
"Get in my car, Sloane! Now!" my father ordered, and I ran in a daze to his beat-up Toyota Camry, which was parallel-parked along the curb in front of the Camaro. We locked ourselves inside, and my father started the engine, switching gears and slamming his foot on the gas. I was thrown back against the seat as we rocketed down the street.
"What's happening?" I asked.
My father's face was pale, his eyes glued to the road.
"The end of the world," he whispered.
I furrowed my brows, too scared to ask any questions. Movement caught the corner of my eye, in the side mirror.
A group of people scattered and shrieked as dark creatures with glowing red eyes and sets of flashing fangs ripped them apart, wildly lapping up the growing pool of blood on the street. All I could do was watch as we turned a corner and sped toward downtown Pittsburgh (where a heavily guarded shelter was being set up), my neighbors' desperate pleas for help giving way to growls and eerie silence.
I blinked hard, pulling myself back to the present. A sickly yellow school bus sat in the middle of an intersection, limping on two deflated tires. As I crept alongside it, keeping to its shadow, I caught the outline of a black form moving above me, its hunkered shape slinking along the top of the bus like a cat hunting a mouse.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I wheeled around, cocking the pistol, only to find nothing, no nightmarish creature waiting to pounce.
My breath grew more ragged as my heart rate sped up, throbbing painfully inside my ears until it was the only sound I heard. In the windows of the bus, my reflection was still aiming the pistol at the roof of the vehicle. Shadows were at my back, save for a flash of crimson eyes.
I drew a sharp breath and dropped to the ground, spinning around on the balls of my feet as the vampire lunged out of the darkness, a rabid snarl erupting from its oversized throat. The gunshot was silent as death, and time seemed to slow as the vampire changed direction at the last second before the bullet hit, tearing a bright red gash into its bared rib cage. The vampire sailed over me, and I followed its path with the pistol, firing again as the creature shrieked and hit the ground. Quick as a shadow, it scuttled out of the way before the bullet hit home, missing its head and blowing a hole in its side, spraying the ground with black blood. The vampire latched itself on the side of the bus, crawling over the roof like a spider before disappearing from view.
I cursed and went after it, the Scarlet Dagger shining brilliant crimson in the moonlight as I unsheathed and raised it into a defensive position, gripping the pistol in my other hand. My forefinger jittered against the trigger as I paused at the end of the bus, using the dagger as a mirror to see the other side. Only dirt and a scattering of MISSING CHILD posters lay next to the bus.
Each breath I took made my whole body shake, and I willed my heartbeat to slow as sweat dripped from my forehead onto my chest. Something rapidly clucked its tongue a few feet from me, making a low guttural noise, and I pointed the pistol at the darkness, not seeing anything. A bead of sweat dropped into my eye, and I swiped at it as my vision blurred. I glanced at my hand and did a double take, rubbing the sweat drop between my thumb and forefinger. It was warm, and much thicker than it should be.
It was also deep red.
Later, I would be grateful I saw that drop of blood, because it was the only warning I had before the vampire tackled me from the top of the bus, catching me off guard and throwing me to the ground. I landed hard on my back, giving my lungs a jolt as the breath was knocked from me. While I lost hold of the pistol, I managed to bring the dagger up swift enough to block the vampire's gaping jaws. The creature wasn't very heavy -- little more than sagging, purplish skin and fragile bone -- but its speed was nearly too quick for my seemingly sluggish human reflexes, and it was all I could do to keep it at bay as it scratched at my arms and snapped its razor sharp teeth at my neck.
I grunted, struggling against the vampire.
Think about what Leo taught you. Look for the opportunity to strike to present itself.
I waited, conserving my energy for what I hoped against hope would be a fatal blow to the monster on top of me. Gazing at its narrow, sunken face -- a face that might have very well once been human -- churned up memories of my brother, of his happy, jester-like smile, intermingled with his screams of terror as a vampire very much like this one sank its teeth into his flesh.
Rage, hot and bitter, flooded my body, consuming me like a wild fire laying siege to a forest. Loathing filled my eyes, which had morphed into dangerous slits. At last, the vampire swiped, losing its balance for a splinter of a second and creating a narrow path from the tip of my blade to its sternum. With a bloodthirsty roar, I plunged the blade deep into the creature's chest, feeling the steel tear and snap its way through bones, muscles, and tendons until only the hilt showed, my hands gripping it so tightly my knuckles had turned white.
Almost immediately, the vampire stopped moving, its wild eyes frantic with growing pain and confusion as it stared at the blade in its chest. Subconsciously, my lips twisted into a carnivorous smile.
Gotcha.
I raised my knees, digging the heels of my boots into the vampire's stomach, and pushed with my legs, pulling back on the dagger. It at last freed itself of the creature and I fell back, rolling along my shoulder blade as I sprang up into a defensive position, my knees bent and the dagger poised over my head, dripping blood.
The vampire shuddered and grew still as winter before it began screaming madly. The wound, which ran clear from one side to the other, was starting to smoke as the vampire's dead skin eroded away, dripping to the ground in smoldering black gobs as it clawed at its chest, literally tearing itself to shreds.
I stared at it, part in awe, part in grim satisfaction, as its muscles and bones glowed orange-red like embers before what was left of the vampire disintegrated into a pile of ash.
My knees shook so hard I nearly collapsed. Clutching my stomach, I doubled over and vomited, catching a few shaky breaths before standing and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, which still trembled from the tidal wave of adrenaline flowing through my body. I took a deep breath and tasted the bitter, charred smell of the vampire, nearly gagging all over again.
I blinked hard, trying to clear my erratic thoughts so I could focus. The Scarlet Guard no doubt heard the vampire's ear-piercing screams -- hell, the capital probably heard that -- and if I still wanted a shot at finding any clues to my brother's whereabouts, I was going to have to keep moving, and fast.
I jogged the few feet to where my pistol rested and retrieved it. Then I scraped the rest of the vampire's blood from the dagger, making sure the edge was clear of any obstructions, before sheathing it and taking off at a shaky but steady sprint.
\*\*\*
My breath caught in my throat when I spotted my house, its once cheerful yellow paint now cracked and ridden with holes from insects. The lawn was overgrown and an ugly, dead brown, and the narrow sidewalk leading up to the front porch had more crevices than I remembered.
One tentative step at a time, I approached my house, my footsteps falling in the same spots they had when I'd come home every day from school; or when Orion and I had snuck back in after a night of carefree recklessness (mostly harmless practical jokes on our friends); the same sidewalk that had listened to the sometimes hysterical conversations between Leo and me.
The night was quiet. A single streetlamp, its shade broken, threw sketchy patches of faded yellowed light on the porch, making the shadows dance as I slowly wrapped my fingers around the handle. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously pushed the front door open.
A triangle of orange light fell on the dust-coated wood floor in front of me, my shadow frozen as it peered at the remnants of a forgotten time.
So many memories lay wrapped up in that house, the one my father had vowed to raise my brother and me in so we wouldn't have to constantly move around with our Marine Corps mother. There was the old pink couch, faded and worn, where I had curled up with a good murder mystery on so many cold winter days. My dad's favorite recliner sat in the corner, his hot-spot for watching football or Penguins' hockey on our tiny, used flat screen TV. Orion's hockey gear still laid in the pile he'd always thrown it in after practice, right by the door (to the disgruntlement of our father).
I swallowed hard and took a step inside. The floorboards gave a comforting squeak as my eyes fell on the old rocker in the living room, where my father would entertain my brother and me with stories of the South. The fireplace looked lonely without its cheerful flames. I walked over to it, as I had so many times when I was very young, and ran my finger along the dust on the mantle, eyeing the photographs of my parents. My father, with his beautiful ebony skin, stood next to my mother, with a head of blond curls and skin as white as milk, their arms linked around Orion and me. We looked like a normal American family. I'd dare say we even looked happy.
Directly ahead of me was the dining room, where my father, brother, and I had spent many evenings dining without my mother, and just past that was the kitchen and then the stairs. At its base, I saw toddler-me in my mind's eye, clutching the blanket I'd had since I was an infant to my chest as I listened to my parents argue, the same argument they had nearly every night after they thought my brother and I were asleep downstairs in our room. Memories of their voices ran through my head, shouting at each other over money (or our lack thereof).
The floorboards behind me creaked ever so slightly, and I drew my pistol, scanning the patches of darkness within the living room. A set of small windows casted squares of red moonlight on the dusty planks. There, so light it was nearly unnoticeable, was a footprint in the dust, much too large to be my own.
Fear, icy and tangible, tapped its claws along my spine and up the base of my neck. I froze for a long second before rushing to the front door, my head screaming, Get out! Get out now!
I was literally inside the door frame, one foot in the house, one foot out, when a hand reached out of the shadows and grabbed me by the throat, slamming me into the wall so hard I lost my breath.
Someone wrested the pistol from my grasp before I could collect enough of my senses to think to fire it. My fingers were so clammy I couldn't get a hold on my attacker's hand as I clawed at it, trying to free myself. A thumb pressed into my air tube, and I choked as a tall, lithe silhouette stepped in front of me. The figure's gaze shifted, its eyes reflecting red like the lenses in a cat's eyes as it glanced at my right wrist, where the tattoo was bathed in moonlight.
"What are you doing here, hunter?" came the low, musical voice of a man. Though his timbre was soft, there was a steely edge to it.
I coughed and sputtered, glimpsing the bottom corner of a black leather trench coat and ruling out that my mother's guard had caught up to me. The Scarlet Guard got their name from their red uniforms... and their thirst for bloodshed. But if this man wasn't with the Scarlet Guard, then who was he? What was he doing here -- in my house, of all places -- on the anniversary of the Eclipse?
The figure leaned in. Wispy platinum blond bangs came into view, though his face was still obscured by shadows. He studied me a moment longer before I heard a tiny gasp. "It can't be..." he whispered in disbelief, and my brows furrowed.
Who is he? Do I know him? He's not Orion...
My eyes dropped to his slightly agape mouth, and my blood ran cold. There, just visible beneath his upper lip, were the points of two fangs.
A vampire? But he can't be. He looks so... human.
I thought of the creature I had faced only a few minutes ago, of its animal urge to kill me, and panic fluttered in my chest. In the few short years humans had known vampires existed, never had we seen one that looked exactly like a regular human being. The fact it could talk was stunning; I didn't even know vampires could speak. Of the two I had faced, they both seemed hell-bent on ripping out my throat first.
Suddenly, the man -- the vampire -- in front of me seemed twice as dangerous as any monster I had encountered. And he had my pistol.
"What's your name?" the man asked. His musical voice was cool and soft, and all the more frightening for it.
His thumb released just enough pressure that I could feel my voice box again, and I gulped for air. I had to get out of here, away from him however I could. A wild, irrational thought formed in my mind, and I tried to speak, my words strangled because I could barely breathe.
He leaned in. "What did you say?"
I looked up, a wicked smile on my face. "Trick-or-Treat," I rasped.
Somehow, the man -- or vampire, or whatever he was -- had missed the dagger when he subdued me, most likely too focused on the pistol and thinking it to be my only weapon. I brought the dagger straight up, tip first with the serrated side facing out, with the aim of impaling him in the chin, but he hissed and stepped back before it could ever make contact. He released me, and I took a huge lungful of air.
Moonlight glinted off the pistol in the man's hand. "I've heard of Scarlet Steel, but have yet to see the marvel for myself. Impressive."
"Well, its beauty's only half its charm," I replied coolly.
My mind was spinning with a milieu of questions. Not only did I want to know who he was and what he was doing in my house, but I didn't fully understand what exactly I was talking to. Was he truly a vampire? He was speaking to me as casually as if we were commenting on the weather.
He took a step closer. "But does it work?" he asked with genuine curiosity.
His cat-eyes reflected red again, and my gut told me I wasn't dealing with a human. I would have to look for Orion later, if I made it out of this alive. "Why don't you find out for yourself?"
I leveled the blade and charged.
Somehow, fighting him in my house -- in my territory -- didn't feel so opposing as it had facing down the vampire by the bus. It was familiar, almost comforting, and I felt strangely empowered as I fought him head-on.
He sidestepped my thrust, knocking the blade aside with the barrel of the pistol, but I quickly recovered, swinging back with a powerful back kick to his face, which he also deftly blocked with his forearm muscle. I tried slashing at him again, this time toward his ribs, but he deflected that too with the pistol, his movements matching my own. Reaching beneath my blouse, I pulled out a regular switchblade and made a series of gouges toward his eyes, throat, and heart, which he also blocked. Frustrated, I flipped the knife so the blade was in my hand and flung it as hard as I could toward his head. He ducked -- while laughing, I might add -- and I fumed at him as the blade struck the wall.
"What's so funny?" I demanded, furious. Was he mocking me? And why wasn't he fighting back?
His laughter quickly died away. "Nothing about this is funny," he said stonily. "Not a damn thing."
Huh? Did he mean being a vampire? I tried to imagine being changed into one -- which, from what we knew, required one to be completely drained and to drink the blood of a living vampire -- and my blood ran cold. We knew it was possible, but improbable. The vampires we had studied usually killed their victims before changing them, they were so out-of-control.
I couldn't imagine a worse fate than being turned, and suddenly this talking, seemingly sensible man before me became incredibly tragic. He would never age, a beauty queen's wet dream. I couldn't imagine being a teenager forever. There were too many things I wanted out of life. Then I remembered he was a vampire, and any pity I felt vanished.
You need to get rid of him, now.
Thinking fast, I dropped to my knees, gripped a handful of the rug, and yanked. The vampire started to slip, doing a backhand spring with one hand before he could fall, but I was ready. Getting a running start, I dropped and slid right beneath him as he sailed through the air, running the blade along his chest. It sliced through his shirt like butter. He cried out, his agony turning into a ferocious growl as he dropped the pistol, and I knew the blade had struck home.
When I got to my feet and whirled around, he was already coming at me.
That's more like it.
He threw a punch toward my temple, which I blocked with my arm, quickly slicing upward with the dagger and cutting his wrist. He hissed and retracted his hand, bringing up his knee to catch me in the stomach, but I brought the pummel of the dagger down hard, connecting with a sickening crack to his kneecap.
It didn't stop him. He never paused, his speed increasing as he attacked, throwing an open-hand gauge to the side of my neck, followed by another punch to my shoulder, all while I blocked as swiftly as I could.
I tasted the first twinges of panic. He's been trained. His moves are too practiced not to be. Stay calm. Pretend you're fighting Leo.
Through the dark, the glowing edges of the Scarlet Steel wounds burned along his chest and wrist, and I could smell the chemicals as they ate away his flesh. Both were shallow cuts and the acid would take far longer to penetrate the deeper tissue, that is, if his accelerated regeneration didn't heal him before then. A minor setback I should've seen coming. I guess part of me didn't think I would actually run into any vampires, believing the news when they assured us the military had pushed them all back. I had lapped it up just like every other American anxious for some hope in this dismal war.
The man stooped on his hands and spun low toward my knees, trying to knock me off my feet, but I leaped the second I felt his boot touch my calf and his leg soared beneath me.
"You're fast," he said, sounding amused and maybe a little impressed. "But I'm faster."
In a move quicker than lightning, he stepped in so we were chest-to-chest, wrapping his hand over mine and pinning the dagger to my bosom. He stepped behind my right leg so our knees were directly behind one another's. In a textbook move, he pushed me backwards, causing me to fall over his leg. He used the momentum to flip me onto my back.
I landed in a pool of moonlight, dazed as he knelt before me, pressing one hand down on my shoulder, while the other held the Scarlet Dagger to my throat (which he had jerked from my grasp the moment I'd started to fall). I sucked in a tight breath, eyeing the dagger. Scarlet Steel might not exactly be deadly to me, but the dagger itself certainly was.
I looked up at his moon-bathed features, and I momentarily forgot all about the dagger as eyes widened in awe.
He was an angel. His hair was such a light blond, it had to be almost white (the red moonlight made it difficult to pin down the color), and it hung in loose, sweaty wisps around his narrow face. Thin lips siphoned in large breaths as he panted, and his eyes, though laced with pain from his wounds, were a brilliant, sharp cerulean. The black trench coat gathered around him, but I could tell by the shape of his shoulders and by how small the sleeves were that his frame was skinny, giving him a deceptively breakable appearance. If I had to guess, I'd say he was about my age, maybe a year or two older.
Frozen in time, like a statue.
For a moment, we held each other's eyes, breathing hard and lost in our own thoughts. His eyes drifted to my collarbone, where my blouse had come undone, revealing a flower-shaped birthmark right above my heart. I saw the change in his eyes, felt his surprise and shock.
"It is you," he whispered. "You carry the Mark of the Creator."
"Excuse me?" I asked, blinking. What Mark? What was he talking about? It was just an ordinary birthmark, the same one my brother and I both shared. It was normal, nothing special.
Wasn't it?
His face darkened, his mouth closing into a thin, grim line, as he met my eyes again. They were filled with regret. "Forgive me for what I'm about to do, but I have no choice."
Without warning, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked my head back, exposing my neck before he sank his fangs into my flesh.
I cried out as pain, hot as fire, scorched my blood, followed by a blossom of endorphins as he drank deeper.
I struggled against him, punching him in the ribs, but he only hugged me closer and drank faster. Time seemed to stand still. I wasn't sure how long we laid there, only that my strength was quickly fading as darkness closed in on me.
I'm dying, I vaguely thought, my hands falling limp at my sides. My gaze turned blank as I stared past the vampire while it consumed me, body and soul.
I should have been scared out of my mind, but for some reason I didn't feel much of anything. My limbs felt numb as my heart slowly came to a halt. I closed my eyes, surrendering to death.
Orion... Leo... I'm so sorry...
Cold fingers were prying my lips open, and my head tipped back as hot metal dripped into my mouth and trickled down my throat.
No, not metal. Blood.
He's turning you.
I was going to become a vampire. The thought danced along the forefront of my consciousness, the flame of which was nearly snuffed out, when I suddenly found myself inside a memory:
I was six years old, standing before my dad with big tears rolling down my cheeks. He had just picked me up from school, where some girls in my class had made fun of the color of my skin, calling me and my brother foul names. Orion had said some rude things back, not bothered in the least, but their words had been like knives to me.
My father knelt before me and I looked up at him with love and adoration, seeing the crow's feet around his kind brown eyes -- the same eyes I had inherited -- and knowing he would take care of me. "Hey, little girl," he said. "Don't let anyone ever tell you what you're worth, or who you are. You're a princess in my eyes, and always will be." Then he wiped away my tears and took me in a hug.
Those words stuck with me now, replaying over and over in my mind, the last thought I had before I couldn't think anymore.
Chapter 3
There are no words to describe the sensation of being reborn. Your skin feels like fire and ice all at once, the venom of the bite like honey in your veins. Then you feel nothing, and you're floating along, somewhere between life and death, until a little ball of warmth, like your own personal sun, sparks to life deep within you. The warmth spreads through your core, down to your fingers and toes, until you're cradled by sunshine. And then the light goes out and you're left alone in darkness.
\*\*\*
One by one, sounds trickled into my head.
Somewhere to my left was an incessant beeping. It was steady, sounding the same pitch every time, and a hazy image floated across my mind.
It's a heart monitor.
I tried to open my eyes, but they felt swollen shut. I reached out with my mind to the rest of my body. My limbs were far too heavy, like I was made of cement. My legs felt bare. I managed to wriggle a toe and then a finger, tracing coarse fabric. I was laying on something lumpy, with my neck supported by a fluffy bump.
A mattress, a pillow... I'm on a bed.
More curious than ever, I pried my eyes open. Everything was a blur and much too bright. Blinding white lights overlooked me, glaring down on me as if I was lying right under the sun. Dust particles floated on the air, sparkling like diamonds. There was a buzzing in my ears that I wasn't aware of when I had my eyes closed. My ear drums tingled like I had been at a rock concert without any ear plugs.
Slowly, I picked up other sounds; the trickling of an IV; the low hum of a television; the sharp clip-clop of approaching heels, accompanied by a sultry, French-accented voice.
"She's coming around," the woman said, though "she" sounded more like "zee."
A dark blur appeared above me, shining a light into my eyes. I hissed and shrank away. "Where am I?" I croaked. My voice sounded like I had swallowed broken glass.
Just as I was about to demand she turn off that damnable light, it vanished. The blur-woman disappeared behind the spots firing before my eyes, not saying anything. I heard her scribble something on a piece of paper, so rough it sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I ground my teeth together and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the sound. Why were my ears and eyes so sensitive? I had migraines sometimes, but they were never this excruciating. I tried hard to remember what had happened, but kept drawing a blank.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the French woman said sarcastically. "Does that bother you?"
I looked to my right. My vision was beginning to clear, and I could make out the tall frame of a young woman who appeared to be in her mid twenties. She removed a stethoscope from around her neck. "I forgot how disorienting it can all be. I'll try to be more considerate." She gave me a fake smile, pressing the cold metal a little too hard against my sore chest.
I immediately decided I didn't like her. She seemed awfully hostile for a doctor. "Who are you, and where am I? What happened?"
She straightened, pulling away her stethoscope. "I'm Dr. Paris De Lange." She whipped out a board and wrote something on it. "And you're in a hospital."
I looked around. The walls were cinderblock, and all the wiring was sticking out, giving it a crude appearance. The bed was basically a cot, and the only chair in the room looked ancient, like whoever had assembled the place had done so in a hurry, as more of an afterthought.
More like a dungeon than a hospital. "Why am I here?"
Paris moved to check my IV and heart monitor, ignoring me. The mist in my eyes was slowly disappearing, allowing me to see more details.
She was gorgeous -- like in a classy, "1930's Hollywood" kind of way -- with red lips and long auburn hair swept up in a clip. Her skin was rosy, practically glowing it was so clear. Red-rimmed glasses sat low on her sharp nose, and her nails were perfectly filed and painted a deep red to match her glasses. A gold wedding band adorned her ring finger, and there wasn't a single wrinkle in her crisp, white lab coat. On her right shoulder was a red cross and a winged staff (I'd seen it before on other medical supplies, but I couldn't recall its name), followed by four gold chevrons stitched down her sleeve. I caught the flap of a white military jacket beneath her coat, along with a skirt. But there was something off about Paris, a weird, almost "telekinetic" aura that radiated from her, like loose energy.
Maybe it's just your imagination.
"What am I doing here? What happened?" I repeated.
She tilted her glasses down and peered at me over the rim. "You've changed," she said with a small, cold smile. "Don't worry. We're going to take good care of you."
My flesh chilled. "What are you talking about? What's wrong with me?"
I desperately tried to remember what had happened, but I couldn't recall anything past waking up here. I felt the first strands of panic as my pulse began to race.
My heart monitor picked up speed. Paris was next to me in an instant, needle drawn. "Amnesia is normal, and usually brief. You need to calm down," she snapped.
"No!" I yelled, staring at the syringe. "Get away from me!"
Amnesia? Had I hurt my head? Was I in some sort of accident?
A shadow moved from the corner of my eye, and I looked up. All the air left me, like I'd been punched in the chest. "You!"
Features flashed through my memory: platinum hair, eyes as blue as the ocean, and thin lips hiding a pair of fangs.
I leaped from the bed, ripping the IV from my hand. I winced, but kept my eyes trained forward.
The boy from the Red Sector stepped into the light. He was taller than I remembered, wearing what appeared to be a jet-black military uniform. Four golden chevrons darted down his right arm. He held his hands up, one of which was bandaged from the Scarlet Steel wound. "Easy. We're not here to hurt you."
I narrowed my eyes, tensing up.
"Careful, Aden," Paris said. "That cut on your chest isn't entirely healed yet."
Aden. So that's his name.
I reached for my hip, where the dagger should be, but gripped only a thin hospital gown. I remembered fighting the boy -- Aden -- in the house, right before he took the dagger from me and...
My hand flew to my neck, touching a fresh bandage. I gasped, locking eyes with him. "You bit me." All the color left my face. "You drained me, didn't you?"
The boy froze, not saying a word.
"Oh my God." The air in the room thinned, and I stumbled.
No, no, no, I can't be one of them.
"It's okay," he said, voice soft as a lullaby. "You're still human, with nothing more than a virus."
"A virus which can't be cured!" I screamed. "It might as well be cancer!"
He grimaced, and my stomach churned as the room spun. Sounds hurtled toward me, impossible sounds I shouldn't be able to hear, like Paris' heartbeat, the strong swoosh as her heart's chambers opened and closed, siphoning blood in and out, in and out.
I held my hand up to my face. The bloody gash where I ripped out my IV had already healed, leaving a thin pink scar. A sob escaped my throat, which felt like it was getting tighter and tighter as I stared at my hand in disbelief.
Aden stepped forward, watching me with a mixture of pity and concern. Paris looked from him to me, making to move but I threw a hand out. "No! Stay back!"
The boy didn't stop. "Please. I had no choice."
"No choice?" I yelled back. "Are you kidding me? You had a choice! You could've not turned me!"
"It's not that simple," he growled.
My face twisted in hatred. I opened my mouth to speak, but noticed Paris was gone. Behind me, I heard the soft click of a heel and I spun. Paris' eyes widened right before I kicked her as hard as I could. She went sailing backward into the wall, dropping the syringe as she hit the floor.
I ran. My legs felt wobbly, my balance skewed, as I bolted out the door and slid into the wall. Aden cried out to me, but it only made me run harder. I tore down the hall, pushing aside patients and hospital personnel as I went.
The walls were also cinderblock, with cheap black and white tiles laid out in a checkerboard pattern along the floor. The air smelled sterile, but it was mixed with something else, something not quite human. It was the same energy I had detected on Paris when I first awoke.
Someone stepped in front of me, and I met his eyes as I passed. They flashed red, and I gasped in surprise. Slowly, my eyes widened as I scanned the curious faces that had turned to stare at me, meeting a pair of red eyes each time.
Vampires. They were all vampires.
Where the hell am I?
I swore under my breath. This couldn't be happening. Maybe I was having another nightmare, and any minute now I'd wake up. But as the bleach on the air burned my lungs, I knew I wasn't dreaming.
Paris, the boy, the people around me... they seemed normal, should be normal. They looked like me. Some of the teenagers even looked like the types of friends I kept back home (not that I had many).
But they're not like you at all, are they? They're not hunters. You have to stay calm and find a way out.
I turned a corner and plowed straight through a group of nurses, meeting with rude comments as I shoved people aside. I ran and ran and ran, my heart beating faster and my breath coming in short, quick spurts as I raced for the exit sign at the end of the hall. Two young women walked out of the door, chatting amiably with one another.
"Move!" I yelled, slipping between them.
They looked at me, startled, as I burst through the door and shakily raced down the stairwell, taking two steps at a time.
Hundreds of thoughts wrestled in my head. Find a payphone and call mom. Alert the Scarlet Guard. Where am I going to sleep tonight? Can I even sleep anymore? You should let Leo know. He could rescue you.
I seized up.
Leo.
A hard knot formed in the pit of my stomach. What would he do when he found out? Pity me? Help me?
Kill me?
The stairwell ended, and I burst through a door into another sterilized hallway. Across from me was a sign with two arrows, LOBBY pointing left and ER pointing right. I went left, spilling into an empty, window-lined room a few seconds later. My eyes darted around. The windows ran parallel to a hallway, at least, from what I could tell. There was a reception area, with little potted plants spotting the carpeted floor. At the center sat a petite, innocent looking receptionist at an oak desk.
I looked past her and my eyes locked on a set of doors, about fifty feet away.
Go. Now.
I didn't hesitate. Glancing around, I jogged across the room, my bare feet barely making a sound against the carpeted floor. The receptionist said something, but I didn't hear her. All of my attention was focused upon those doors and the enticing promise of freedom they offered.
Almost... there...
My fingers had just grasped the brass handles when I heard the bolt lock and a brilliant red light flared to life above my head, accompanied by a shrill siren. I swore, tugging at the doors and rattling the glass panes on either side, but they refused to budge.
Somewhere in the hospital, footsteps thundered toward me. Someone shouted, "The front entrance! Get all security down there now!"
I took a deep breath to calm myself. Think, Sloane. Stay calm. What would Leo do?
He wouldn't have gone alone into a Red Sector, for starters.
I frowned, telling my subconscious where to shove its sarcasm, and licked my lips, deep in thought. I turned around, surveying the room for more exits, but there were none. Just walls of glass and that horrible shrieking red light.
Walls of glass...
I picked up the first chair I saw as the thought formed and raced toward a window-wall. Feeling strength I had never felt, I raised the chair over my head and hurled it as hard as I could at the window. It hit with a loud thunk, bouncing back, but it was mixed with something else, a sound so minute only my enhanced hearing could pick it up: the tiny crackle of breaking glass.
I peered at the place where the chair had struck. Sure enough, there was a small, almost imperceptible crater.
Desperation and hope flooded me. I grabbed the chair and begin banging it against the window, over and over again. With each blow, the crack spidered out, creating thin blue veins along the glass.
I felt the window start to give when they caught up to me, a flurry of voices from the other side of the room.
No! Not now, not when I'm so close!
Someone was whimpering behind me. I turned to find the receptionist cowering behind the desk, trembling as she muttered something into the telephone.
"Freeze!" a man shouted as a wall of guards took aim around me.
I could try to throw the chair through the glass, but that might cause them to shoot me, and going through the front entrance was clearly not an option, as the doors were locked.
And I was completely surrounded by vampire security guards.
I'm almost ashamed to admit what I did next, but you never know what you're capable of until you're pushed to your absolute last resort. I darted behind the desk and pulled the receptionist in front of my body, pinning her arm to my chest with one hand while I grabbed a fistful of her pretty blond hair with the other, yanking her head back.
"Don't!" I snarled. "Or I'll rip her throat out!"
The poor girl shuddered with a sob, her young face drenched in tears. I wasn't actually going to rip her throat out -- Who am I kidding? I felt guilty when I killed an insect, let alone a girl, vampire or not -- but the guards didn't know that.
I felt them tense as they eyed each other sidelong, unsure if I was really that unstable. I took a good look at them and noticed they were all wearing the same black military uniforms that Aden wore, only theirs' had one chevron each.
Despite the wailing of the siren, I was able to hear the approach of deliberate footsteps. "Enough," Aden said, stepping through the throng of guards. One of them separated from the group, walking up to him. "Captain Knight, what is your command?" he asked.
Captain?
This guy was their leader? He looked barely old enough to be enlisted.
Aden held up a hand, quietly silencing his comrade. His strong, cerulean eyes remained locked on mine, the hint of a smile on his lips.
"Release me!" I cried out, returning his sardonic smile with a look of pure contempt.
"And where will you go?" he asked. "There is nothing left for you in your mortal world."
His deep, melodic voice wrapped around me, sending chills up my arms. "That's not true," I said, but the seed had been planted. Doubt began to grow in the back of my mind. What if he was right? My mother hated vampires, as did Leo. What happened when the only allies you had left would surely want you dead?
Aden gazed upon me with sympathy. "I am truly sorry for what you've lost. Believe me, I wish there could be another way."
I opened my mouth to speak, a retort hot on my tongue, when the back of my head exploded with sharp pain, and stars burst before my eyes. I stumbled, losing my grip on the receptionist as someone planted his knee in my back, forcing me down hard. My cheek slapped against the floor, a burning sensation spreading across my jaw as it dug into the carpet. Before I could react, my arms had been cuffed behind my back.
The guards began to scatter, but through the crowd my eyes found Aden's, his smile now shifted into a mask of cold indifference.
My face contorted in unrestrained anger, burning not from embarrassment but from rage. "I hate you," I whispered.
His lips parted to say something and I knew he'd heard me, but before I could make out the words, there was a feather-light prick along the back of my arm and a wave of drowsiness rolled through me.
Like a close friend, darkness consumed my line of vision, the regret in Aden's too blue eyes the last thing I saw.
If I thought my head hurt before, it was nothing compared to now. My initial reaction when I first registered the pain was to go back to sleep. I squeezed my eyes shut, so focused on the relentless throbbing that I almost missed the hushed argument taking place beside me.
"What were you thinking in bringing her here?" hissed a distinctly French-accented voice. "She should be moved immediately, if it's not too late. You've jeopardized our safety, and hers, enough as it is."
My insides cringed at the anger in her voice. Paris. What does she mean? Am I in some kind of danger? To me, it seemed like the worst had already happened, as the hunter had now become one of the hunted.
"What other choice did I have?" countered Aden. "We'll never, ever get another opportunity like this. Fate has sent us a gift!"
"It has sent us a curse!" Paris took a deep breath, as if trying to compose herself. "We should tell Frost."
"Absolutely not. Frost can't be trusted. She'll leak that the girl's here." Aden paused. "I think we're overreacting. We should just lay low. She'll be far safer here than in the city."
My head hurt even more with the added weight of confusion. Who was Frost? And what city were they talking about? Pittsburgh, or rather, what was left of it? Why wasn't I safe?
On impulse, I tried to sit up. White hot pain shot through my core, and I fell back onto the pillows with a stifled cry. Cold metal pressed against my wrists, and when I moved my arms, they would hardly lift from the bed railing. I glanced to either side; someone had cuffed me to the bed. A band-aid had been taped to the middle of my right arm, which was sore and bruised from multiple needle pricks. The sheer thought of having my blood drawn turned me green, overpowering my curiosity at why it had been necessary. I didn't want to think about it; otherwise, I might vomit.
Immediately, Paris was at my side, checking my vitals. "She's steady. But I bet she has a nasty headache." The last part sounded like she had said it with a smile.
"Paris," Aden warned, and she smirked, walking away. Through the flood of light, I traced the concern on Aden's face as he leaned over me. "How are you feeling?"
"What were you two talking about, just now?" I asked, ignoring his question altogether. I trusted him about as much as the bus driver I'd interacted with... how many nights ago was it? One? Seven? I wondered how long I had been gone.
I have to get out of here. But first, I need some answers.
I looked at Aden expectantly, and Paris stepped up to the bed. "That's not your concern," she said, crossing her arms.
"No," Aden said, keeping his eyes on mine. They somewhat softened as I returned his understanding gaze with a petulant glare, warning him not to toy with me. "She deserves to know. Besides, I'm sure she has a lot of questions."
That's an understatement. Admittedly, I was a bit surprised he had agreed to tell me anything at all, though I had no idea exactly how much of what he said was one hundred percent true.
Paris pursed her lips, her beautiful face all soured up, but I spoke anyway. "Where are we? And don't say in a hospital."
Aden's mouth turned up in the corner. "We're underground, about two hundred feet directly below Pittsburgh, to be exact."
That explains the bizarre power outages. I bet they have to tap into the White Sector's power supply to run this place.
"Paris and I" -- he gestured between them -- "are part of an independent military faction called the Syndicate. You're in the medical wing of our training academy. Dr. De Lange here is the Chief of Surgery, and an expert in hematology, or 'the study of blood.'"
My mind sorted through the information, latching on to one fact in specific. "Independent? As in, rebels?"
Aden's gaze was steadfast. "Perhaps."
My brain tried to process this. Before now, I -- and the rest of the world -- had thought vampires to be a plague, nothing more than horrific animals whose basic instinct were to feed off of humans like livestock. Aden and Paris were clearly reasoning, high-functioning creatures. Had I not known better, I would have thought them to be human. Neither of them was chalky, like the movies and literature painted vampires out to be. They could have been living next to me as my neighbors and I wouldn't have been the wiser. It was an unsettling feeling.
And not only were they practically indistinguishable from humans, they apparently also had a secret military base. This changes everything. What are they training for? The humans would never see them coming if they were planning to strike.
I kept my alarm buried, masking my face with cool composure. Based on the presented facts, I drew another conclusion. "Back in the house, you recognized me." I couldn't recall what else Aden had said. Parts of my memory had returned in perfect clarity while others remained riddled with foggy patches.
So that's what Paris meant when she said amnesia was normal.
Paris gave me a look of pure annoyance. "Of course he did. Your face is on the television programs every time your mother makes an appearance."
I chewed on my lip. They had been keeping tabs on the Pennsylvania White Sector, and most likely, on my mother. She had always been proud and driven -- just like my brother -- and her accomplishments as a Marine made her unique to the political circles she now ran in. She not only served as our sector's Sovereign; as a skilled tactician, she oversaw the military operations not just for Pennsylvania, but for the entire collection of northeastern White Sectors. If the vampires had been tracking my mother's movements, then it supported my theory they were planning to strike against the human race, possibly starting in Pittsburgh.
"So that's why you were in my house," I whispered. "You were conducting research. You're planning an attack, aren't you?"
Aden's face was perfectly stoic as he took a seat. He neither denied nor confirmed my accusation, which was confirmation enough in my mind.
I have to get back to warn them, even if it costs me my life. If I didn't, there could be hundreds more casualties. My own life seemed vastly insignificant in comparison to the mass homicide that would occur if the vampires launched their raid.
"That's why you needed me," I said. "Because you recognized me from the television broadcasts. You want to use me as leverage against my mother."
Aden's eyes flashed as he nodded once, his gaze sharpening. "Yes. When I saw you, I couldn't believe my luck, but I needed to turn you to insure you wouldn't run back to your human companions so readily. Seeing as you come from a guild of hunters..."
They would kill me if they found out I'd been changed. Somehow I had forgotten that. Thank you for reminding me.
"I didn't want to change you," Aden said, "but you hardly left me a choice. With you, we finally have an advantage in this blood feud."
Paris snorted under her breath. "She's more of a liability than anything else," she muttered.
Aden shifted his weight, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. One sleeve was rolled up. The tip of a white cotton patch hovered right above the crook of his arm, like he had just given blood.
We are in a hospital. Maybe Paris had to check his blood to make sure it was free of Scarlet Steel toxin.
"How long have I been here?" I asked.
"One week," Aden said breezily.
One week, I repeated mentally. Then Leo and the others will definitely know something's wrong by now. I wonder if they'll come looking for me?
Once again, Aden was staring at me. I followed his pensive gaze to my birthmark, a few petals of which showed slightly above the collar of my gown.
"You know," he mused, "if you stare at it with your head tilted at this angle" -- he cocked his head about forty-five degrees to the right, keeping his eyes glued to my birthmark -- "it almost looks like a forget-me-not."
I tried to look down but my neck spasmed, and I rapidly snapped my chin upright.
"Rather unusual, don't you think?" he said off-hand, as if thinking aloud. "I've only seen one other with a marking as unique as yours."
It took a split second for his remark to register, then my eyes widened to the size of tennis balls. "Orion? You've seen my brother?"
"I have," Aden said without pause.
I was so unbelievably excited, I could hardly stand to lay still. My brother. Someone had actually seen him! If I could find out when he had last been seen, maybe I could track him down and finally bring him home. Then, maybe an inch of normalcy would return to my life. Being reunited with him sounded so wonderful, it nearly brought tears to my eyes.
"Well, where is he?"
Aden looked at me long and hard.
"Your brother is dead."
No amount of grief I had experienced in my short life could come close to the pain I now felt. As Aden's revelation took form in my head, Orion's smiling face shattered in my memories, which were all I truly had left of him. Though he had been gone for three years, and despite that Leo and several others had kept telling me to accept his loss and move on, a part of me still clung to the hope that he was somehow miraculously alive. It made the pain more bearable if I had something, no matter how small, to hold on to.
"How do you know?" I asked in a tiny voice.
Aden was silent, running his hand methodically over his mouth. "I saw his corpse for myself."
I couldn't be sure what he said next. My brain had refused to listen after the word "mutilated" came out of his mouth, until his voice was a mere drone in the background of beeping machines and the rapid beating of my own miserable heart. Hot blood pooled in my cheeks, and a single tear traced its way down my face, splattering on my birthmark.
Aden at last finished and bowed his head, not apologizing. "I'm sorry" seemed inadequate anyway, and I was glad he didn't say more.
At first, I tried to deny that Orion was truly gone, to console myself by believing in the impossible. But after those first early seconds of denial had passed, I was rendered nearly immobile by shock. My lips wouldn't move. My ears had become deaf to the sounds around me as two guards came to undo the cuffs and escort me to a cell, like a common criminal. They had even given me a black prisoner uniform to wear, stamped with a number which had become my name.
I wobbled to the mat/bed and sat down with a heavy plop as the barred door rattled closed with a resolute wham. Aden appeared behind the door. "This is only temporary, until we... sort some things out."
My hands were loosely clasped in my lap, my back stooped over, as I stared blankly at the floor, vaguely registering what he was saying.
He turned away. "I'll leave you to your thoughts," he said quietly.
When I awoke from my shock-induced coma and looked up, Aden was gone. I was alone, save for a single female guard humming outside my cell.
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours as the night (or whatever it was; I had lost all sense of time in this place) dragged on. Meals were brought to me, simple, human things like oatmeal and fresh fruit and milk, but my appetite had vanished. The plate grew cold and the guard at last removed it, leaving me once again at the mercy of my emotions.
Shock gave way to anger, anger to despair, as I switched from pacing and lying down, to screaming and pounding my fists against the chaffing stone walls so hard they bled. Drained and defeated, I slumped to the floor, biting a hole into my lip as the blood from my torn skin mixed with the silent tears pooling beside my head.
\*\*\*
That cell became my sanctuary. As I mourned and accepted the loss of my brother, the extinguished flame inside me rekindled, tiny but burning all the same. A constant stream of thoughts tumbled through my head, from my brother to the recent events, to pondering how I fit into this world, if I still did. Clearly the vampires didn't trust me -- and why should they? I wore the Black Cross, branding me a hunter for life, however short that may be -- but my vampire blood made me the sworn enemy of the human race, and therefore, what was left of my family and my friends. I had become a walking paradox.
My troubled thoughts held more worries than just the loss of my brother. Going off the information Aden had given me, the humans had much more to fear than the monsters that roamed the Red Sectors. I wondered more than once about the difference between the two types of vampires, how one became less of a man and more of an animal, and if it was choice or if they were born that way. Regardless, both vampires were incredibly dangerous, especially if my prediction came to pass. The humans deserved to know, to somehow be warned of the impending Armageddon.
Leo would listen to me. As long as I knew he was safe, then I'd gladly die for the risk of telling him.
An escape plan didn't come together very easily. I supposed I could wait for the Scarlet Guard to find me, but seeing as no one had any clue this place even existed, I doubted that was going to happen any time soon, and time was a precious luxury I couldn't afford to waste. If anyone was going to get me out, it would have to be me.
I rarely saw Aden. When he did stop by my cell to deliver some sort of instructions to the guard, he caught my eye, some emotion I couldn't quite place dancing behind those vivid blue orbs. Then I would break his gaze and scowl as he walked away, chuckling.
I was never truly alone. There was always a guard posted a few feet away, usually the woman I'd seen when I had first been dumped here. Sometimes, when it was very still, I could barely pick up the soft crying of a girl through the walls of cinderblock, though I had to listen carefully, even with my enhanced hearing. I wondered who she was, and what she had done to end up here. She sounded very lonely. My heart went out to her, and I wished I could comfort her and tell her she wasn't alone.
My appetite had finally returned, and when the guard let herself into my cell -- which she never did on her first few shifts -- to hand me my lunch, I snatched the sloppy BLT off the paper plate and took such a large, hard bite I nearly ripped the sandwich in half. (I had been counting the days by the number of meals I had received. A total of three days had passed, or so I estimated.)
My taste buds had been incredibly sensitive after the change. Water, which was basically all I had been taking in, was alive with minerals. I could literally taste the rocks and smell the scents of the forest and the earth off of it.
But nothing came close to the sensations rolling across my tongue as I chewed the sandwich. Flavor exploded along the inside of my mouth and down my throat as I swallowed. There were so many palettes that my senses didn't know where to begin. I closed my eyes and relished the taste. It was divine, the best bacon, lettuce, tomato, and bread I'd ever had.
I hadn't realized I had closed my eyes until a stifled giggle broke my attention from the sandwich. I glanced up to find the guard covering her mouth, her cheeks round with a smile. She was about my height and build, with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her military uniform was black and identical to Aden's, only she had two chevrons and a skirt instead of pants, along with tall black boots.
I quirked a brow and awkwardly wiped my mouth with my napkin. "Yes?"
"Sorry. I didn't want to interrupt your tongue-gasm." A giggle slipped out toward the end, and I blushed as she handed me a paper cup. "But I forgot to give you a drink."
I muttered "thank you" and stood to walk over to her when I froze, picking up on something odd. It was hard to describe, as if someone was projecting his or her feelings into my body, but not so much that it tampered with my own. I stood there, "listening" to the thread of amusement underscored by a keen sense of fear.
The woman eyed me warily, her hand sliding up to the gun at her hip. "Is something wrong, miss?"
I shook my head, thinking I must be delusional from lack of food. I hadn't been eating well, only regaining some semblance of an appetite these past few hours.
"No, nothing's wrong," I said, stepping closer and taking the cup from her. When my fingertips brushed hers, it was like I was "jolted," the blur of her emotions sharpening under the lens of direct skin-to-skin contact.
It's her. I'm somehow sensing -- feeling -- her emotions.
We only touched for a split second, but the residue of our contact remained on my skin like oil. Something flashed silver in the dim light, and my eyes glimpsed a set of keys dangling innocently from her belt.
As I stared at those keys, an idea came to mind.
It was ludicrous. I didn't even know if it would work, and reality had shown me that we should place very little stock in the myths we'd been fed by Hollywood and the imaginations of authors. But short of knocking the guard out -- if I could even land a blow -- it was worth trying.
Feeling partially idiotic, I focused on tapping into her feelings again, this time locking eyes with her. I imagined the connection as a string threaded by different emotions, except by looking her directly in the eyes I could sense her thoughts, as well. Though barely visible beneath the surface, I felt a twinge of sleep pull at me, through her, along with something about a ten-hour shift the night before with little rest in between. Her pupils dilated and her expression turned blank as she stared back at me, utterly transfixed. Both of her arms hung limp at her sides.
"Give me your keys," I said, slowly and deliberately.
Still holding my gaze -- which was starting to burn since I didn't dare blink for fear of breaking the connection -- the guard reached to her side and gently pulled the key ring loose, depositing it into my outstretched hand.
I tingled with excitement as I wrapped my fingers around the cool metal keys. "Switch uniforms with me, and give me your hair tie," I ordered.
She did as I said, unlacing her boots and zipping out of her jacket and skirt without a second thought as I stripped down to my underwear and handed her my prisoner's garb, which she pulled on without hesitation. I had to look away to put on her uniform -- which fit fairly close -- and when I did, I could feel the connection weaken. Alarmed, I snatched the hair tie from her hand as she blinked, looking dazed, and I cupped her face between my hands, forcing her to look at me. The moment our eyes met, I instantly felt the connection return, though I had to strain this time to keep it under my control.
Sweat beaded across my forehead. "Now go lie down in my bed, pull the covers all the way past your face, and go to sleep."
A goofy grin spread across her mouth. "Sleep... that sounds nice..." The woman shuffled like a zombie over to my mat-of-a-bed, her long brown hair cascading down her back. She climbed beneath the single, shabby patchwork blanket, rolling over onto her side before drawing the edge up over her face so that only her hair showed. Within minutes, her deep breathing filled the cell and I finally blinked as her thoughts stilled, my eyes watering furiously as I heaved a huge sigh.
It worked. I can't believe that actually worked! I wanted to do a little dance, but I wasn't sure how long it would be until the next guard arrived, not to mention I had no clue exactly how to get out of this place.
After lacing up her boots and pulling my hair back in a ponytail, I crouched next to the bars and listened intently for any sign of movement, but the corridor was completely still. I looked at the keys; there were exactly ten altogether.
I frowned.
How was I to know which one was to my cell? Maybe one of them was a skeleton key, and would work on any locked door I came upon.
Starting at the end, I slipped my arm through the bars -- using my free hand to hold on to the padlock -- and awkwardly went through each key with no luck. I began to panic, fearing I had somehow gotten the wrong set, when something clicked deep within the lock and I felt it slacken in my free hand. Lungs burning, I let out my breath and shakily stood, carefully removing the padlock and sliding the door open as quietly as I could. Though it screeched mercilessly, I kept going until I had a decent sized opening through which to fit through, and squeezed myself into the corridor, closing the door behind me.
I glanced to either side. It looked exactly the same, with cells lining one wall and nothing but gray cinderblocks on the other. I scanned for cameras, but oddly enough, didn't find any. Somehow, I refused to believe they kept their security so low, unless they really were that proud and thought no one could possibly escape from here.
They're probably just hidden. Either way, best to keep moving.
Casually relocking the padlock, I picked a direction and walked down the hall, making sure my right sleeve completely covered the tattoo on my wrist. The hall was narrow, and the echo of my footsteps made it seem that much longer. Black and white tiles checkered the floor, and the ceiling was lined with rectangles of false yellow lighting, creating barely enough light to see. Thankfully, vampire vision was also improved from that of a human. Being more akin to that of a hawk, it allowed me to see farther and sharper in the dark.
As I passed cell after empty cell, I picked up on a trace of sorrow right before I heard the strangled weeping of a girl. Raw grief poured into me, so enormous it was nearly suffocating, as I paused outside the cell and peered around the corner.
At first, I didn't see anything, though the crying suddenly stopped and the cell went silent. My eyes scanned the darkness, unsure if I had heard it or not, as I leaned closer to the bars. A pair of frail, white hands shot out, and I bit my tongue to keep from yelping as the face of a young girl appeared.
She couldn't have been older than ten. Her skin was sallow and the color of snow, her bedraggled hair knotted and filthy. She gaped at me with two enormous blue eyes, which appeared much wider due to the bags hanging beneath them.
"Please," she whimpered. "Please, help me. Mommy.... Daddy.... Spotty..." She rested her head against the bars and sagged as more sobs raked her fragile body.
A thick knot formed in the pit of my stomach. Though it was disturbing they were keeping a child locked up in this condition, what bothered me more was her lack of a "vampiric signature."
She's human.
I could only think of one reason they would be keeping a human girl hostage. What other excuse could they have for holding her here? This poor girl looked like no criminal I had ever seen. She looked like a prisoner of war, ravaged by starvation and despair and left to rot, forgotten and alone, in a cold, dank cell. The thought made me sick at my stomach.
Unable to walk away, I grasped her ice cold hands in my own, kneeling before her. "Look at me," I said, and she brought her fearful, wide eyes up. I could feel the connection between us as I tasted her emotions, but it was like the connection was behind a door, waiting to be let in. I imagined opening that door, and at once felt the pull that drew her under my spell. "Everything's going to be all right," I said softly but firmly. "Don't be afraid. I'm going to get you out of here. Just stay calm and don't make a sound."
She nodded, eyes glazed over, and backed away from the bars as I pulled out my key ring. As I inserted the key -- the one that had unlocked my cell -- I bit my lip, hesitating. If I took her with me, she could slow me down, even get me caught. But looking at her, seeing how pitiful she was, I couldn't bring myself to simply leave her here to die.
I twisted the key and the padlock fell open. Pulling the door aside, I gently reached in as her face swiveled into shock and she opened her mouth to scream.
"No, no. It's okay," I said quickly, ducking in front of her and locking gazes. "I'm here to help you." I brushed a few damp strands of hair back from her face and she started to calm down, the fog returning to her eyes.
In my head, I raced through my options. I couldn't very well walk backwards down the hall while I kept eye contact with her. For this to work out for either of us, I was going to have to try something else.
Keeping a firm grasp on the connection, I broke her gaze, feeling the rope of her thoughts and emotions in the back of my mind. Clasping her hand in mine, I led her from the cell into the hall. As an afterthought, I found a pair of cuffs along one of my belt loops and fastened those around the girl's wrists. I leaned toward her. "Now don't make a sound, and come quietly," I ordered gently.
She nodded, and I nervously began leading her down the hall, one hand firmly on her shoulder. My attention was split, with half my concentration focused on keeping hold of our connection, but I managed to lead us up a set of stairs and into the next wing. It was too quiet here, with closed doors stretching out on the walls to either side.
This hall looked different, as if frequented often. It was more welcoming though still a bit shoddy, with wooden floors that had an old green rug running up the middle of the hall. The walls had been painted white, and simple white-shaded lamps dotted the spaces between the doors, giving it a "homey" feel. My eyes lifted, and I froze.
There, at the end of the hall, was a very visible EXIT sign.
My heart sped up as I quickened our pace, pushing the little girl along. She stumbled once and I had to catch her, nearly breaking the connection and giving my heart a little start, but I quickly recovered and we resumed walking. The door, like the entrance to the Promised Land, was only a few precious feet away.
Almost there. Keep walking. Stay calm, stay calm.
Behind us, a door opened and closed.
"What's she doing up here?"
I cringed at the girl's voice, swearing under my breath. I could run, but she would surely notify security. Maybe I could subdue her long enough to get the child out, or possibly hypnotize her, but I knew I couldn't sustain two connections at once. I was having a hard enough time holding on to one.
"Hel-lo?" the girl called, clearly annoyed. "Are you deaf? I just asked you a question."
I bristled at her haughty tone. Bracing myself, I turned around.
She looked sort of how I expected, like a Barbie doll shoved into a military outfit. Her skin was all dark chocolate, and her sleek, brown hair was highlighted with blond streaks that hung in big barrel curls past her shoulders. A pair of gold hoop earrings shone beneath her hair, and a white lab coat -- much like Paris' -- hung loosely around her body, with a blood red cross stamped on her right shoulder. Beneath the lab coat, I made out a white uniform similar in make to the one I wore, with a skirt and tall, knee-length boots. Around her neck was a stethoscope, and although her face bore a suspicious glare, I had to admit she was very pretty. A name badge was clipped to her coat pocket, and I barely made out the name DEZYRE DRAKE.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Drake," I said as politely as I could manage. "I must not have heard you the first time."
"Obviously." Dezyre cocked her hip, placing a hand on it. "And it's Doctor Drake, moron."
I looked her up and down, not impressed. "You look a little young to be a doctor."
She siphoned in a tight breath, outrage burning through her doll-like features. "Age is irrelevant. In six more months, I'll be certified, the youngest doctor on staff." She studied me. "You don't look familiar. Not that I have any reason to pay attention to security guards." She spit out the last two words as if she was talking about cockroaches. "And you didn't tell me where you're taking Ms. Bryant."
I looked at the little girl, as placid as a lake on a spring day. "I'm taking her in for her check-ups," I lied, hoping it sounded convincing.
Dezyre narrowed her eyes. "We don't bring the patients up here. The nursing staff goes to them." She took a step toward me. "I'm not sure you know what you're doing, Sergeant" -- she glanced at my name badge -- "Black." She checked my sleeve, which had two silver chevrons. "For someone of your experience, I'd think you'd at least have it straight by now."
I glanced at her chevrons. She had three and they were all gold. It must mean something significant, and I made a mental note to look into it later.
"I might have to report you to Captain Knight," she said, her magenta-glossed lips curling into a devilish smile. "I don't like dealing with idiots."
"And I don't do well with being bullied," I said, standing straighter. I rose a little over two inches above her, and she pressed her lips into a hard, thin line. "Normally, I'm not the type to judge, but you don't exactly look like you could hold your own in a dark alley, if you get my meaning."
Her mouth gaped open. "Is that a threat?" she hissed.
"Only if you want it to be." My patience with Dezyre was quickly giving way to anger, and if I snapped, I didn't know if I'd be able to hold on to my connection with the girl.
"Ah, there you are," said a deep voice. My face paled as Aden strolled up, coming to stand between us. He gave me a strained smile. "I've been looking everywhere for you, Sergeant Black."
I kept my face composed and nodded. "Captain Knight."
My gaze dropped to the floor as my nerves twitched. Would he call me out for who I really was? For that matter, for what I really was? I'm sure the base would go on lockdown if they knew a hunter was freely roaming the grounds.
Aden acted completely nonplussed. "Ms. Drake," he said, and I suppressed a laugh at Dezyre's indignant glare at not being addressed as "Doctor Drake." "I apologize, but it seems there's been a slight misunderstanding in our young ward's schedule." He patted the little girl on the back, and I reluctantly let him pry her from my grasp and hand her over to Dezyre. "Would you mind escorting Ms. Bryant back to her room?"
My eyes widened. No! You can't take her back down there! Can't you see you're killing her? She's just a child!
Despite my warring conscience, I stayed firmly rooted to my spot.
"I'll have a word with Sergeant Black," Aden added, giving her a bright smile.
Dezyre faltered, her eyes growing wistful as she stared back at Aden, and for a moment I thought she might protest. But she nodded and turned, guiding the little girl back the way we came. I tried to hold on to the connection, but the second the door closed the mental rope snapped, severing it. Within seconds, her screams ripped through the air.
I started forward when Aden seized me by the arm and swung me back around. "Oh no, you don't," he said, pulling me to him.
I rounded on him with a glare. "She needs help! You can't just leave her down there!"
"You're the one who's about to need help." He glanced around, making sure we were alone, before hissing, "What are you doing here? When surveillance told me Sergeant Black was behaving strangely, I didn't think you'd actually try to run again, not after what happened last time."
So there are cameras around here. I just can't see them. I fidgeted under his glare, not meeting his eyes. "I..." Excuses ran through my head, and I finally settled on one that wasn't a total lie. "I got bored."
He blinked. "Bored?"
I nodded. "You try being in the same room for days on end, and see how well you adapt."
Aden studied me. I couldn't tell if he believed me or not. "How did you escape?" he asked.
I bit my lip. "I'm not entirely sure. I hypnotized the guard, I think."
He cocked a thin, white brow. "You glamoured a guard?"
"... yeah?"
This time, both brows rose. "Glamour is a skill that takes years to master. It's hard enough glamouring a human, but a vampire, too?" He shook his head and whistled low. "How the hell did a girl who's been a vampire for less than two weeks pull that stunt off?"
"I don't know how I did it. It just kind of... happened." I thought of the rope of emotions, how I had latched on to it with my mind, and decided to keep that part out. The pale, malnourished face of the girl floated across my memory like a ghost, and my eyes sharpened with fury. "Why are you holding that little girl prisoner?"
Aden seemed unaffected by my anger. "Exploring a lead," he said wistfully.
My mouth opened to reprimand him on her appalling living conditions when he began leading me down the hall, in the direction of the cells. "Come on. We should sort this mess out before the authorities begin to suspect something's up."
"No!" I dug my heels in, pulling against his grip, and he stopped. I searched for the connection, but he had a fairly solid wall up, guarding his emotions. But not so strong that I didn't detect the faint strand of sympathy and regret, both linked to his memory of turning me. Maybe... just maybe if I could earn his trust, I could roam free and find a way out of here so I could warn Leo and my mother.
And maybe I can save that little girl. It made my insides cold, knowing she was being taken back to that awful cell.
"Please," I said, squeezing my eyes shut and drawing on his emotions. "Don't make me go back there."
Aden tensed, his sense of duty warring with his feelings toward me as I whispered, "All I can think about is my brother. Please, don't leave me all alone in there again."
He chewed on his lip, and the silence grew thick as I waited for him to answer. My stomach groaned, loud and obnoxious, and Aden smiled.
"Even if I wasn't a vampire, I would've heard that," he said. Though anxiety still radiated off of him, his shoulders slacked with resignation and I knew I had won.
He sighed. "Come on. Let's get you some real food. But then I'm taking you back to your cell."
I forced myself to smile, feeling slightly pleased with my performance.
"Whatever you say, Captain."
\*\*\*
The base was tiered, like an inverted pyramid, and larger than I had originally thought. Upon our agreement, Aden had spun in the opposite direction, turned a corner, and began ascending a stairwell I hadn't noticed. A sign detailing the best evacuation routes for each level was tacked next to the door, and I paused, trying to memorize it. I always had a decent memory, nearly photographic.
The lowest (and smallest) level held the prison block; the next, the medical laboratories; the third was the hospital wing I first awoke in; the fourth housed the training academy level, and judging from the graph, it was massive. The fifth and final level held no labels.
"What's on the top floor?" I asked, my voice reverberating around the cement stairwell.
Aden paused on the stairs, eyes sparkling with mischief. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."
Too late. You've sort of already done that. I shrugged as if it didn't matter. "Just curious."
He rolled up his sleeve -- I noticed the bandage on his hand was gone, revealing a thin strip of shiny new skin where the Scarlet Dagger had cut him -- and checked his watch. "It's nearly noon. Come. I only have about a half hour window to eat before the cell block shifts switch out."
He started back up the stairs, and this time I followed.
At about the fourth landing, we stepped through a door that read 4: Training Academy. I could feel Aden's precaution ease up as he decided I wasn't going to bolt for it, and I took the opportunity to pepper our conversation with questions about the facility, trying to collect as much information as I could. Each answer of his was vague, as I could have probably figured it out for myself by simply observing my surroundings.
"The academy level serves as the training grounds for our soldiers," he explained. "But we also house a lot of civilians who help run the base, like nursing staff, electricians... those sorts of jobs."
Black tiled floors shone beneath me as I followed Aden into a sparsely populated corridor. Every person, I noticed, wore the same black uniform as Aden, only the girls wore black skirts and tall boots instead of pants. Some of the uniforms were red; others white. I did notice that the white uniforms all had a red cross on their right jacket shoulder. All of the military personnel wore at least one gold, silver, or bronze chevron on their right sleeves.
"What's up with the different colored uniforms?" I asked.
"Black," Aden said, pulling at his own sleeve, "is for the soldiers. Our medical staff wears white, while our technical staff wears red. Color coding is mostly to help the new recruits quickly distinguish a person's rank and position. And if you'll notice --" he pointed to an older man talking to a teenage girl, both wearing white -- "the medical staff all wear crosses on their sleeves, with the certified doctors bearing a caduceus."
I remembered reading something about the caduceus -- the winged staff of the god Hermes -- back in my freshman literature class. It had been a symbol for healing and medicine for many years, and was later adopted by the U.S. Army to represent their medical corps.
"And the chevrons?" I asked.
"They go by rank and years of experience. Obviously, the more chevrons you have, the higher your rank, with bronze marking you as a newbie. If you make it through your first year, you advance to silver, and then it's a five year stretch before you get to gold."
I took in the three gold chevrons on Aden's sleeve. "Then you must have been a vampire for, what, a decade or so?"
He looked at me sidelong, smiling slyly. "Maybe. Or perhaps I'm just really good at what I do."
A few heads turned, all teenage males, but for the most part no one paid me any attention. I wondered if I should be worried about someone recognizing me (if Aden and Paris said they knew me from the media, than why shouldn't other vampires know my face?), but nobody showed any sign of recognition when they gave me the "once over."
The tension in my shoulders eased a little. Maybe I'm not as famous as I thought.
Whenever Aden passed someone in a black uniform, they would turn and salute, and he would nod at them before they returned to whatever it was they were doing.
As we walked, the interior curiously shifted. This part of the base was fairly pretty and surprisingly stylish for a military outfit. The walls were a deep brown, with gold-gilded lamps hanging from the spackled ceiling. The heels of our boots clicked along polished marble floors of swirling caramel and cream.
"Stay close," Aden said, and I jogged a bit to catch up as he turned a corner. He walked straight toward a set of double doors -- a plaque that read MESS HALL hung beside them -- and opened one, spilling noise into the hall and motioning me inside.
I walked through, muttering "thank you" for the held door, and found myself standing in what appeared to be a fancy, restaurant-style cafeteria. Polished black booths and tables -- all lined in red cushioning -- were set up around the circular room. Several cash registers and buffets were situated on my right. It was pretty packed, and everyone was chatting and relaxing while enjoying their meals together. It looked like any other cafeteria I'd ever been in, only more nicely furnished.
Aden turned to face me, and discreetly unpinned my name badge, slipping it into his pants pocket. "Better for you to remain Jane Doe for this interaction," he said quietly. "Let me do the talking. This way." He directed me to a corner booth, where a pixie petite girl with peach-colored skin and curly blond hair pulled up in pigtails sat talking to a tall, muscular man with a bulky frame and dark skin. He had his back to me; I couldn't see his face, only that he had long hair tied back into several long, thick braids. The girl had on a red uniform, so I knew she was some sort of technical staff, while the boy was clearly marked a soldier by his black outfit.
Aden's right. Color coding does help. At least I now know which ones will pose the greatest threat.
The girl slurped on her soda can, babbling excitedly to her friend each time she took a breath. His broad shoulders shook with laughter as she made a funny face, emphasizing whatever point she had been making with quick hand gestures. Watching her, I wondered how someone could possess that much energy. It seemed exhausting.
Aden walked right up to the table and cleared his throat. The girl stopped mid-sentence to gape up at me, her baby doll face lit with childlike curiosity. I couldn't see the boy's reaction, though I caught him leaning past Aden to catch a glimpse of me.
"Guys," Aden said, "this is Sergeant --"
"Sloane?"
The boy's soft, airy voice was strikingly familiar in my head. My gaze snapped to his, and we stared at each other for a few seconds, our faces mirroring one another's shock and disbelief.
It took me several seconds to find my tongue. "Rook?" I whispered.
He looked exactly as I remembered. Every detail was the same as it had been the night I lost my brother -- and I thought, Rook -- to the vampire. As the goalie for my brother's hockey team -- of which, Orion was the captain of -- Rook had always been athletic and toned, but not the tank he had apparently become upon turning into a vampire. His warm, gentle brown eyes looked me over, as if not quite believing what he was seeing.
I shrank back, searching for any sign of anger or resentment, but a bright smile warmed his face as he rose from the table and wrapped me up in a bear hug, laughing. "It is you!"
Rook was much taller than me -- he and my brother had both been giants, standing at 6'5" -- and after my initial shock at having him there, hugging me, alive, I threw my arms around him and laughed, tears stinging my eyes.
He pulled away, placing a hand at my back and gently pushing me toward the booth. "Here, please," he said, taking his seat and motioning for me to sit beside him. I glanced at Aden, who looked a bit perplexed by our sudden camaraderie, and slid into the booth by Rook. (His name was actually Jerome Crecey, but when he had first joined my brother's hockey team, everyone had called him "rookie" until he proved himself otherwise. Their first game, he stopped nearly every goal of the opposing team. Despite his triumph, the name had stuck, and everyone had affectionately called him "Rook" from then on.)
Aden slipped into the booth beside the girl, who scooted over to make room for him. I could feel Rook's excitement at seeing me. "How... when?" he asked.
"Um..." I bit my lip, and looked at Aden expectantly, who just shrugged and steepled his fingers together, looking slightly amused by all this. I took it as my cue to continue. "I went into the Red Sector to look for Orion," I said quietly, feeling a new stab of pain at mentioning his name. "And I was attacked." My palms began to sweat as I faltered, unsure whether or not I should tell them the truth.
"I saw her fighting off a Rogue, and thought she could make for a good recruit," Aden inserted smoothly.
"Rogue?" I interrupted.
"A wild vampire, more animal than human," Aden said absently. I had more questions, but he didn't give me a chance to ask before he went on. "Anyway, I opted to change her myself. Though her combat skills and determination were impressive, she was badly bleeding and didn't have long."
I gave Aden a look but quickly masked it. Why was he lying for me? These were his friends, or at least, I thought they were. What secret did he have to hide from them?
Rook nodded, laughing softly. "Sloane always did have a penchant for fighting. I told her brother that we should let her on as one of our defenseman so she could get out some of that pent up aggression on the ice."
The blond girl sat quietly, listening and observing, though her face remained open and friendly.
"A penchant for fighting," Aden murmured. "Yes, I could see that."
I scowled at him, leaning back into the seat and crossing my arms. So what if I had a record for brawling? My father hadn't exactly liked it, but he had taught Orion and me to look after ourselves, to not let anyone push us around. We were far from being bullies, and though we never started the fights, we could certainly finish them.
"I'm sorry about Orion," Rook suddenly said, his voice no louder than a breeze.
"So you saw him, then? Before..." I asked.
Rook nodded, his eyes growing distant. "It was like something out of a nightmare... there was so much blood and the Rogue... its thirst was too out-of-control." He blinked, shaking himself free of the memory. "He didn't suffer long, I'm sure of that." He gave me a small smile, trying to be sympathetic.
So much blood. I closed my eyes, seeing my brother's horror-stricken face as he called out to me. And now, seeing Rook was like visiting with a ghost, and a wave of guilt crashed through my chest. "I... I'm sorry."
Rook's smile faltered. "For what?"
"For what I did," I whispered.
He chewed his lip thoughtfully. "I don't blame you, Sloane. I would have reacted the same way." He reached over and squeezed my hand. "So don't you feel guilty for a second, okay?"
I saw the sincerity in his eyes, and I nodded, giving him a small smile. "Did that thing... change you?"
Rook squished up his face. "Rogues are more feral than that. They tend to be so consumed by the thirst that they drain and kill their human victims, never feeding them their own blood when the human's on the verge of death. 'Full drainage' makes the immune system really weak, allowing the vampirism virus to spread quickly and easily. I was bitten, but I managed to escape before the Rogue killed me, blacking out in the countryside. Then I woke up down here, like this."
My brain soaked up this information like a sponge. I already knew how a human became infected by vampirism. Leo had told me a horrific story of a death row inmate who had been "fed" to a captured vampire, some sick experiment to find out if the virus could be transferred. Apparently the government went through several prisoners before they figured out the victim had to drink vampire blood for the virus to take effect.
"So you don't know who turned you?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No idea."
"And... you're okay with being like this? A vampire?"
He laughed. "At first, I couldn't believe it, but I think more than anything I'm just happy to be alive. It's not like I had anything waiting for me back home."
Rook came from a rough family life, having practically raised himself in one of the toughest parts of town. I couldn't blame him for not wanting to go back.
I smiled. "It's so good to see you."
Aden gently cleared his throat, and we both faced forward. "Well," he said, looking pointedly at Rook, "you never mentioned you knew Sovereign McAllister's daughter."
Rook shrugged and winked at me. "You never asked."
Aden sighed, rubbing his temples, while the blond haired girl giggled. "I like her, Aden," she chirped. "She sounds like fun."
Aden motioned to the girl. "How could I forget? Sloane, this is Angel Johnson. She's a master in computer security."
A master, huh? She didn't look a day older than sixteen, with one of those cherubic faces that would never age (quite literally, now that she was a vampire).
Angel stood and reached across the table, her pink lips stretched into a bright smile. "Hi! It's so nice to meet a friend of Rook's. I'm super excited to have another girl around. Let me tell you, it'll be a huge relief not having to depend on these two for fashion advice." She squealed. "Lunch is going to be so much fun!"
She seemed so genuinely happy to meet me that I didn't have the heart to tell her I probably wouldn't be joining them for lunch very often, not when I had a cozy cell waiting for me downstairs. Instead, I gave her a nod and a small smile back, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."
Angel sat down and eagerly leaned forward on the table. "So what's your specialty? Are you going to be a soldier? I just figured, you know, since Aden and Rook said you can fight well and all."
"All right then," Aden said, sliding out of the booth and cutting Angel off. "Now that introductions are over with, we should really get something to eat. Sloane?"
"Sure." I gave Angel an apologetic smile. "Be right back," I told her before standing and walking with Aden toward the lunch line.
I eyed Aden sidelong. "Smooth one. But for some reason, she doesn't strike me as the type to back down. She's going to demand some answers when we go back."
Aden's eyes were slightly squinted, like he was thinking through something. "Angel means well. Though she acts like a puppy sometimes, overzealous and eager to please. It also makes her really curious, and until I figure out what to do with you, I can't have her asking too many questions."
"Why don't you let me train?" I asked suddenly. "As one of your soldiers, that is."
Aden snorted. "Yeah right. Ten days ago, you were trying to kill me. Now I'm supposed to believe you've suddenly had a change of heart and want to switch sides? It'd almost worry me if your loyalties turned that quickly."
I chewed on my lip. Gaining his trust might prove to be harder than I originally thought.
"Professor Knight!" someone called, and we both turned as a boy walked up to us, also dressed in black with a single gold chevron on his sleeve. I gave Aden a questioning look, but he was already deep in conversation with the boy. I leaned forward, but couldn't catch what they were saying.
Aden's expression turned grim. "Here," he said, handing me a piece of blue paper. It resembled a dollar bill, only smaller, with the words fifteen jaspers and an emblem of a forget-me-not in the middle.
It has my birthmark on the crest. Then again, maybe it's just a regular flower and I'm drawing my own connections.
"Are you listening?"
My head snapped up at Aden's impatient tone. "Yes," I said a little quickly.
He sighed in exasperation. "You're no better than my students," he mumbled.
I was about to argue that point, but he cut me off. "That should be enough to cover your meal. I'll be right back." He said the last part a bit sharply, letting me know not to try anything. I rolled my eyes, taking the bill from him and stepping into line as he walked away with the student.
I had been waiting for a total of ten seconds before someone behind me said, "For a girl like you, you're awfully chummy with Aden."
I gritted my teeth and turned around to face Dezyre, who reeked of a strong, mango-scented perfume. I coughed, wafting it away. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Her lips curled up in a cat-like grin. "Just that you must be really pathetic at your job if he has to escort you around like a first-year. I mean --" her eyes fell over me, from head to toe, then back up again -- "what other reason could he have for wanting to spend any length of time around you?"
"That really gets under your skin, doesn't it?"
"No," she said, though her eyes were practically green with envy. "It confuses me more than anything else. I mean, it's Aden Knight."
Who was this guy? Some kind of underground celebrity?
Big deal. And I'm Sloane McAllister, I wanted to say.
I pulled my lips into a tight smile. "I don't see him spending any time around you."
Her eye twitched. "That's because he knows I have important business to take care of. He doesn't want to distract me."
"Or maybe he's allergic to your toxic personality. And that God-awful perfume you're wearing."
I don't really know what made me say that, other than I'd had about as much drama as I could handle in one week. My nerves and my brain felt fried from having relived my grief over losing my brother. Glamouring two people earlier today also took a lot out of me. I was starting to experience an adrenaline crash, my mind growing sluggish as it wore off and exhaustion crept in.
Dezyre's face deepened to a dark red. I could practically see the fumes rising from her ears. "What did you just say to me?"
"Now who's deaf?" I asked, turning her earlier insult back around on her. I wished I had a camera; she looked ready to explode from rage.
I sighed. All this petty bickering was making my head hurt. "Look, I have better things to do than inflate your ego." I turned around and stepped up to the clerk to pay for my meal, not caring I had completely blown-off Dezyre. I raised my right arm, handing him the odd-looking bill.
I heard Dezyre suck in a sharp breath. "Oh my God," she whispered. "You're one of them."
Her voice was so soft, I would have missed it if I didn't have vampire hearing. What is she talking about?
I turned back toward her. Her face was completely drained of color, and she looked like she might pass out any minute. Her eyes were fixed on my right wrist. My tattoo barely showed above my sleeve, which had slipped down when I'd gone to pay.
Damn! That was careless!
The clerk, completely oblivious to the unfolding drama, handed me back some tiny silver coins with the forget-me-knot emblem stamped in the center. Whatever currency they used down here wasn't anything I was familiar with.
I masked my alarm with boredom. "What, this?" I pointed to my wrist before casually pulling the sleeve back down, covering the tattoo. "It's just some ink. No big deal."
"That's the Black Cross." Dezyre's voice trembled slightly. "No wonder Aden's keeping such a close watch on you. You're a hunter, aren't you?"
Forcing myself to stay calm, I didn't let her comments show how close they had hit home. "First I'm incompetent, now I'm dangerous? Please. It's just a stick-on tattoo that could mean a million different things." I turned my back. "Maybe you shouldn't spray so much of that perfume," I called over my shoulder. "I think the fumes are going to your head."
I walked off, hoping she wouldn't report me. I need to eat and get out of here before I'm the one getting staked by Scarlet Steel.
I hurried through the buffet line, which actually had a nice assortment to choose from: two kinds of salad with an island of various dressings, entrées of fried chicken or steak, and a bar full of side items, like steamed veggies and fruit. The most surreal part -- and the one that woke me up, reminding I wasn't human anymore -- was the ice box full of cartons of blood, all labeled by blood type. I guess O negative had a different taste from B positive or something. Shuddering, I meandered away from the ice box.
I'd have to be near death before I'd ever consider drinking blood.
Quickly, I filled up my tray and grabbed a bottle of water. I had started walking back to the booth when my leg caught on something and I lost my balance.
Everything moved in slow motion. Despite my best efforts, the tray went flying, and my plate shattered on the ground as I began to fall. A hand reached out and grabbed my right forearm, jerking it up high in the air. My elbow popped as it hyper extended and I swore. Razor sharp nails dug into my wrist, which was bare since my sleeve had gathered at the crook of my arm.
I looked up to see who had caught me.
Dezyre's magenta lips were pulled into a vicious smile. And hovering just above her clasped hand was my cross tattoo, clearly exposed and held high for everyone to see.
"You seem to like it in the spotlight," she said. "That's good, because you're about to be a freaking celebrity."
There was no time to react. By the time I realized what she was going to do, she had already inhaled a huge breath right before she screamed, "Vampire hunter!"
Every head in the room swiveled toward us. Time froze as at least one hundred pairs of eyes locked on my wrist, absorbing what the tattoo meant.
Off in the corner, someone shrieked, and the room erupted into chaos.
People were screaming and tripping over themselves as they scrambled to get out the door. It wasn't long before a siren went off, wailing through the air much like a fire alarm. Dezyre had vanished, dropping my wrist the moment the crowd began to panic.
"Bitch," I growled under my breath, scrambling to my feet. I looked around, debating on the best move.
Great. How on earth am I going to get out of this mess?
Some civilian girls were so wild with fear that they nearly knocked me over in their frenzy to get out the door. I searched the faces flying by me, hoping to see Aden or Rook, but recognized no one. Something slammed into my back, and I cried out as I was tackled to the ground. I caught myself right before I fell, but my face slammed into the tile anyway when two soldiers yanked my arms behind my back and cuffed them. Immediately, my wrists began to burn, like the cuffs had lain over fire. Excruciating pain spread through my arms, shooting arrows of white hot lightning straight to my heart. I screamed, trying to wriggle free, but the soldiers hauled me to my feet. "Scarlet Steel," one hissed into my ear. "Doesn't feel very good, does it, hunter?"
Part of me was still in shock; they had already dragged me out of the mess hall and across most of the main lobby before I could collect my thoughts. "Where are we going?" I demanded through gritted teeth, but neither responded. My question only made them quicken their already blistering pace.
Cacophony filled the air, the terrified screams of the crowd mingling with the sirens. In a way, it surprised me how out-of-control the civilians were. I supposed I expected them to be calmer somehow, seeing as they lived on a military base. Back home, my mother had a detailed plan for everything, which was to be followed in strict accordance. Anyone who acted out of line during an evacuation (as in "going completely crazy") would have been shot by the Scarlet Guard without warning. It gave scary new meaning to the whole "no tolerance" policy.
Through the noise, a gunshot rang out. The guards threw me to the ground as everyone ducked, covering their heads while more shots fired, chipping away at the walls.
"Hold your fire!" Aden screamed through the guards' headsets, and the gunfire died away. The soldiers jerked me to my feet and we resumed our breakneck pace through the throng, pushing people aside if they didn't move quickly enough.
In no time, we had cleared the main area and entered an elevator. They shoved me inside, taking up positions alongside me, and we began to move, though I couldn't tell if it was up or down.
"Where are you taking me?" I snapped, but they refused to answer. It took every ounce of strength I had left to form a coherent sentence, the pain was so intense.
The door chimed a few seconds later, and we stepped into a more secluded part of the base. I say "secluded" because there was no one in sight, and the corridor looked akin to a dungeon, with stone walls and a chill in the air that suggested few visitors. About fifty feet ahead was a single black door with a name plate I couldn't read, and the closer we drew upon the door, the more cameras I counted. Wherever we were going must have been either top secret, or placed under additional security for a reason.
The diagram of the base -- the one by the stairwell -- came to mind. This has to be the top floor, the only part that wasn't labeled.
We paused while one of the guards punched in a security code. A door swung open and they ushered me inside. I felt like I'd stepped back into the 1800's. Old Victorian furniture dotted the room, which had no windows. Rather, it was dimly lit by several gas lamps with stained glass shades. Red and gold striped wallpaper clung to the walls, and an old-fashioned record player -- a phonograph, I think -- sat in the corner, freshly polished as if it was still frequently used.
"Is the perimeter secure?" inquired a cold voice. The shadows were so thick in the room I couldn't tell where the voice was coming from, only that it sounded female. While the voice sounded frail with age, it also had an underlying strength to it. Something told me this woman wasn't one to be trifled with.
"Yes, General Frost," a guard replied.
"Good. Set her down, there."
The two guards nudged me forward, and I sat on a generously cushioned loveseat that smelled faintly of dust. They uncuffed my wrists and I tasted sweet relief right before they brought out two long lengths of Scarlet Steel chains.
As it was, my wrists were bleeding and charred like burned paper. I braced myself as they rolled my sleeves up, baring my forearms, and laid the crimson chains across my tender flesh. I bit down on my tongue hard, tasting blood, as I swallowed another agonized scream while they bound me to the chair. The soldiers remained impassive, almost satisfied in their brutality. Once convinced I wasn't going anywhere, they positioned themselves on either side of me, faces turned forward but with their hands at their sides, ready to spring into action if necessary.
"If she screams or resists in any way, tighten her binds," the frigid voice said.
I chanced a glance at my wrists and nearly threw up. My skin was bubbling and bright red, already being eaten away by the acidic red steel. To hear Leo talk about it, Scarlet Steel was a new thing, and super-secret. How had the vampires managed to acquire so much of it?
I felt a probing of my mind as someone forced their glamour on me. "Surprised, hunter?" Frost asked. "Yes, even vampires can find uses for Scarlet Steel. A most advantageous weapon, if I do say so myself."
"How did you get it?" I asked, grinding my teeth together.
"We have our methods." She didn't elaborate, but I heard the smug smile in her tone.
I concentrated on anything but the scorching pain, and the smell of my burnt flesh. My vision blurred with tears, making my surroundings fuzzy. I guessed on the objects in the room based on their shape; a large mahogany desk sat before me, illuminated by a single tiny desk lamp. Papers were tucked in neat folders, and a mug of what smelled like coffee sat on a coaster, still steaming as if we'd interrupted someone from drinking it.
Behind the desk was utter darkness. A woman stepped into the light. She had bright silver hair that gleamed, and a shrewd, wrinkled face. She was tall, wearing the same military jacket and skirt I had seen on all the other women, only hers appeared to be made from dark golden silk. A diamond forget-me-not pendant was pinned to her lapel, and her eyes were the opaque color of ice. She looked me up and down, pursing her lips.
"It's not every day we're graced by royalty," she drawled. "You're the McAllister girl, daughter of that damned Pittsburgh Sovereign."
I glared at her, not masking my defiance.
"Tell me," she said, looming behind her desk. "How did you infiltrate our base?"
I didn't blink under her accusing stare. "I didn't," I said, matching the strength of my words with hers. My throat was so tight from pain that my voice sounded choked. "I was brought here."
I remembered waking up right after I had nearly escaped from the hospital ward. Aden's words rang loud in my head: "Frost can't be trusted." Why would Aden not trust his own general?
Her mouth twitched. "Of course you were. A poor, misunderstood prisoner, just like the others."
I stared at her. "Others?"
Frost's icy gaze sent chills over my skin, despite the fire burning my blood. "Are you not a member of the Black Cross Guild?"
My heart skipped a beat at the mention of my hunters' clan. "I don't... follow you." My entire body had begun to shake with the effort of holding in my pain.
In a flash, Frost was around her desk, pinning me against the back of the chair. Age had carved canyons into her skin, making her appear haggard but tough. "Don't play coy with me, girl." I could feel her rising anger, her need to see me bleed, and my stomach flipped as I wondered if she was planning to kill me. Even if I did cooperate, would it really matter?
Her nails flashed from the corner of my vision. She wore tight, black gloves, the fingers of which had been fitted with Scarlet Steel nails. She tapped those nails across my wrist, digging one so hard into my tattoo that it broke through the skin. I ground my teeth together, fighting the urge to flinch away from her. "This is their mark, is it not?" she asked quietly, daring me to say otherwise.
I swallowed. "Yes."
"If it's branded on your skin, then it must mean you're one of them." She searched my eyes, giving me a cruel smile. "And here I thought your lot had learned their lesson the first time."
My brows furrowed. What did she mean by "the first time?" Had my guild fought them before? If they had, McGuiness -- our stone-cold, makeshift leader -- had never mentioned it.
If McGuiness knew this type of vampire existed, then why hadn't he told us? Why didn't my mother know?
Withholding that kind of information was definitely considered treason. So why would McGuiness be compelled to take that risk?
Unless he didn't know.
But then another troubled thought occurred to me. If he didn't know, someone obviously had. One thing was clear -- I wasn't the only hunter to have ever been brought down here. Maybe the hunters tried doing what I was attempting, to garner the vampire's trust in order to claim their freedom.
Which means things will be twice as hard for me, thanks to them.
Bitter anger rose in me, along with a waft of frustration and despair. Could I really pull this off? Would it matter, seeing as I would probably die any moment now?
Frost's eyes sharpened. "You never answered my question. And I don't have much patience for hunters. How did you get here?"
A door opened behind us. "She's here because of me," Aden said, strolling into the room. A cluster of soldiers hung behind him; I sensed their unease and disgust at seeing me.
Frost's head snapped up. "You're telling me you brought her here -- not just a hunter, but Sloane McAllister -- and you did not tell me?"
"Forgive me, General," Aden said politely. "I should have informed you."
"That you should have," Frost said. She surveyed him, distaste clear on her face. "For a man of your accomplishment, I expected more from you, Captain Knight."
Aden said nothing, and Frost returned behind her desk, raising her voice. "You are to deliver a full report, and then you are suspended from duty for three days," she told Aden. "As for your prisoner" -- she looked at me, eyes flashing red -- "she is too great a liability. She is to be put to death as soon as possible."
Fear gripped me as my mouth gaped open. I was about to shout in protest when Aden said, "General, if I may be permitted to speak?"
Frost pursed her lips, mulling it over, before giving a curt nod of her head. "Make it quick."
Aden stepped forward, his voice close behind my back. "Ms. McAllister has expressed interest in joining our ranks. We're low on trained soldiers, and she's a talented fighter. We could use someone of her skill."
Frost sat down, propping her elbows on her desk. "You know we don't allow hunters into our base, even as trainees. Not after what happened."
So the previous hunters had been turned...
I listened intently, absorbing every word. From the sound of it, things had turned south for my hunter brethren.
"She's no ordinary hunter," Aden said quickly. "She's an incredible asset."
Frost sounded unconvinced. "How?"
"She wears the Mark of the Creator."
Frost's eyes widened for a split second. "Are you sure of this?"
"Look for yourself."
Frost looked from him to me and slowly stood, walking over. She reached toward my chest with a pointed red fingernail and pushed aside my jacket collar, exposing the birthmark. She took a sharp breath and straightened, looking at Aden. "I'm reluctant to train her further, as she seems deadly enough as is. It seems Sergeant Black was found a few minutes ago, glamoured to sleep in her cell."
Aden feigned surprise. "Seems a bit remarkable of a feat for a newly turned vampire."
Frost didn't say anything, and Aden stepped closer. "But if it's true, then think of her potential. Imagine what you could do with a soldier of that power."
Frost's face grew distant, power hungry. Her frigid eyes met mine and I locked gazes with her, determined not to look away.
She will not see my weakness. I. Am. Not. Weak.
I was painfully aware of every second that passed as the very value of my life hung in question. Aden waited by my side, his tension and hope flowing through me. My mind was too focused on the pain to care much that my mental block had crumbled.
"If she is to stay," Frost said at last, "she must swear fealty to the Syndicate and forsake all her human ties."
Forsake all my human ties.
Could I betray my race? My thoughts turned to Leo, and I knew deep in my heart I could never truly turn my back on my best friend. But if it meant the difference between life and death, then I would do whatever it took to make it back to him.
"Yes," I whispered.
I felt Aden and Frost's eyes on me. "What was that?" Frost snapped.
"Yes," I repeated, louder. "Yes, I swear allegiance to you." I drew a shaky breath. "From this day forward, I am your servant."
I bowed my head in subservience.
My father's words came back to me. "Don't let anyone tell you who you are or what you're worth."
I won't, Papa. Ever.
Frost slowly smiled, looking quite pleased with herself. "Release her."
The guards removed my chains and I slumped, dizzy from fighting the pain. Aden rushed forward and caught me before I could fall. For a few seconds, I sagged against him.
"I'm all right," I said, gently shoving away from him and standing, though I had to keep one hand on his shoulder to remain balanced. I sucked in a tight breath and faced Frost, whose greedy stare found mine, eyeing me like a shiny, new trophy.
"Thank you, General," I said, bowing.
"Not so fast," she said, and I looked up. "You will be placed under probation until your innocence and true loyalties can be determined." Her eyes snapped to Aden. "For your negligence in telling me about her, you will become her guardian. She is bound to you and your household until further notice. If this goes bad, let the deaths of your comrades be on your head."
Aden swallowed. "Understood."
Frost nodded, satisfied. "I expect your report by morning. Now leave me. I have other matters to attend."
Aden bowed and I followed suit, limping after him out of the office.
"Sergeant Sloane," Frost called, and I turned around.
She smiled. "Try anything, and you'll be shot on sight."
I nodded, considering a retort but thinking better of it, and left her office as the doors were slammed behind me, leaving me in the corridor with Aden and a handful of soldiers.
Aden nodded to them, and they reluctantly walked ahead of us.
He looked over my wounds, wincing. "We should treat those as soon as we can," he said, raising his eyes to mine. They were filled with pity and... guilt.
I knew because I could feel it, not as strong as the weight I bore over my brother's death, but there all the same.
"Other hunters have been here," I said, looking away.
Aden clucked his tongue, his voice tight. "About six months ago, a skirmish broke out in one of the Red Sectors between a small clan of Black Cross Guild members and a pack of Rogues. Of the ten hunters, only three survived. We turned them, trying to save them, and brought them here. We thought they would be an asset. Turns out, they only wanted revenge. They executed a counter-strike against the base about two months ago, killing ten vampire civilians. The base has been shaky ever since."
I listened, barely able to focus because I was hurting so bad. While part of me -- the hunter -- wanted to smile and say the vampires got what they deserved, a greater part was saddened. It seemed so stupid, all the mindless bloodshed and fighting.
Would it ever cease? Had the world truly ended three years ago, condemning all of us to this "hell on earth," doomed to fight until the bitter bloody finish when only one race was left standing?
I couldn't muster up a reply. I staggered as another wave of pain rolled over me, and Aden rushed forward to help. "We should get those wounds seen to," he repeated.
I didn't reply. Instead, I brushed his hand away and limped ahead of him, each step more painful than the first.
In the back of my mind, Frost's warning loomed like a storm cloud. If I didn't watch my step, I could end up dead any minute.
Suddenly, this underground haven seemed every bit as dangerous as the Red Sector.
Paris took one look at my skin and hissed. "What the hell happened?"
It was hard to make out what she said; her accent seemed to thicken when she was angry. She shot Aden a glare as she led me to a padded table. "I thought you were supposed to be keeping her safe."
Aden closed the door behind him, leaving just the three of us in the room. He rounded on Paris, an angry edge to his voice. "I am keeping her safe! If I hadn't intervened, Frost would have killed her right there."
I half-expected some snarky remark from Paris, but she looked pale and frightened. "Frost," she said, shivering. "I should have known this was some of her handiwork."
"What's her... problem... anyway?" I asked between grunts.
"She hates hunters," Paris said matter-of-factly, shooting me a glare. "For good reason."
"You mean... the attack... two months ago?"
"Her daughter was one of the civilians killed in the assault," Aden said quietly.
All right, I could completely understand why Frost was pissed with me. But on the other hand, I hadn't done anything to deserve that kind of treatment, which somewhat dulled my sympathy for her.
Paris helped me lay down, covering me in a blanket before rushing over to the cabinets. My whole body shook uncontrollably. Without a doubt, the walk here had been one of the most painful experiences I had ever endured. I knew my skin was slowly being eaten alive by the acid, a thought I tried not to focus on or else I might black out. My ability to handle gore was very weak.
Aden crossed the room in three large steps, suddenly at my side. "Just breathe," he said, taking my hand and squeezing it gently. Paris rummaged through supplies, flinging cabinets open as she went.
I tried doing as he instructed, to block out the pain and concentrate on my breathing, but my chest burned every time I inhaled, and I chewed my lip raw in multiple attempts at not screaming.
"Give her your blood," Paris called, returning to my bedside.
I started to protest, but Aden put a finger to my lips, holding my gaze. "Your wounds are too severe. If you want to live, you need vampire blood."
"What's wrong with... human? Or animal?" I rasped.
Paris sterilized a scalpel and handed it to Aden. "Neither is strong enough to heal Scarlet Steel wounds," he said. "Animal blood definitely isn't. It's the weakest of the three in the nutrients we need. 'The 'bottom of the food chain', as it were." He drew the blade across his wrist and I had to look away, tasting puke. He lowered his wrist to my mouth. I could see crimson liquid flowing from the incision, a literal "fountain of life."
I blanched. "I can't."
"Yes, you can." Aden bent down until his face was only a few inches from mine, his eyes bright with determination. "You will drink. I can't lose you now."
For some reason, my heart skipped a beat, and for a few seconds I forgot all about the pain as I stared into his eyes. Then my blood boiled and I cried out. Aden took the opportunity to shove his wrist into my open mouth, and when I tried to pull away, he pushed the wound harder against my chapped lips.
I can't say I've ever drank blood before (unless you count the times I've busted my lip in a fight, or accidentally bit down too hard on my tongue), and though the very thought repulsed me, the taste of his blood was like honey and sugar on my tongue. My gums ached as my canines sharpened and extended slightly, a knee-jerk reaction to tasting the blood, I assumed. I moaned, eagerly lapping up the sweetness that flowed into me. Warmth -- like gentle sunshine -- spread through me, and the aches and terrible pain began to drain away as renewed strength filled my body, repairing my charred flesh.
At last, he pried his wrist from my mouth and Paris handed him a towel. My skin glowed, or at least, it felt like it did, as I lay back on the small, thin pillow with a long sigh. My heart no longer raced as if fighting to keep beating. And though my skin did not burn, the raw feeling remained, a reminder of Frost's cruelty.
Paris checked my vitals, shining a pen light into my eyes and timing my pulse. I winced when she pressed her fingers against my wrist, which was still very sore from the burn marks that marred my tattoo, distorting it until it looked more like a smudge than a cross. I chanced a more complete inspection of my arms. The skin the chains had touched was intact, stretched taut and bright pink, but there all the same. I shuddered to think what it would feel like to be stabbed with Scarlet Steel, to feel it consuming you whole from the inside out and unable to do anything to stop it.
"Since I was the one who turned you, my blood will accelerate your healing," Aden said, tossing the blood-soaked towel into the wastebasket. The slice along his arm had already closed up. "And your own regeneration will help you recover quickly, but you'll still need to rest for a few days to recuperate before beginning your training."
I blinked. "I thought I was under house arrest, as in, not allowed to train."
"Oh, Frost wants to train you all right," Aden said with a grim, mocking smile. "I assured that."
You saved my life, I wanted to say, but was unable to find the breath to thank him. Though I was grateful, part of me still hadn't completely forgiven him for turning me into a vampire and dragging me into this mess in the first place.
"Besides, I can't step foot inside the academy for three days, as per the terms of Frost's suspension," Aden said, not sounding very pleased. "But I'll manage."
Paris shook her head, muttering something that included the word "reckless." She sighed and opened a small drawer. "Frost's office called the moment she released the girl. I've been ordered to fit her with a homing chip."
"A what?" I asked.
"It's a tracking device," Aden said as Paris sat down beside me, a small, black dot the size of a tick in one hand, and a very large needle in the other. "It will allow Frost to track your location underground, so she can keep tabs on you at all times."
My eyes were glued to the needle, and my skin broke out in an icy sweat. Paris noticed the difference and smirked. "You can take being burned alive by Scarlet Steel, but you can't handle one tiny needle?"
I gulped at the word "needle." "I'm not sure --"
She rolled her eyes. "Relax, cupcake." She rubbed my left forearm with a cotton ball. My skin immediately began to tingle right before it numbed. "This will just take a second, and you won't feel a thing."
I looked away, and Aden eyed me with a bemused smile. I glowered at him. "What?"
He chuckled and folded his arms, leaning against the countertop. "Nothing," he murmured, though his eyes sparkled with amusement.
"There," Paris said, rising. "All done. And look! You're still in one piece."
My eyes snapped to my wrist. Sure enough, there was a barely noticeable pink line, no more than a scratch on the surface of my skin. True to her word, I hadn't felt a thing.
Paris handed a thin black bracelet to Aden. "Care to do the honors?" she asked.
He took the bracelet with a low growl and walked over to me as I sat up. I watched as he removed my right boot and rolled my pants leg up until my ankle showed. My mouth set in a frown as he looped the bracelet around my ankle and snapped it shut. A small red light bleeped to life.
"Is that what I think it is?" I asked.
Aden nodded. "A certified electric anklet, only since you're a vampire, it delivers 'twice the punch' than a regular anklet would. Here in the Syndicate, we want you to feel as much like an outcast as possible, if you hadn't noticed," he said dryly. "As I speak, they're setting up a perimeter around my apartment. Once you step inside its boundaries, you won't be able to set foot outside the door without being shocked."
I eyed the anklet, pursing my lips. "How much of a shock are we talking about?"
"Eh, it'll be more or less like being hit by lightning. Over and over and over again."
"Are you serious? That'll kill me!"
Aden quirked a brow, shrugging. "You're a vampire now, and a gifted one, at that. I think you'll be surprised what you can live through. Will it hurt? Yes. It'll be far worse than Scarlet Steel."
"That doesn't seem possible," I grumbled.
"But you won't die from being shocked by it," Aden finished.
Paris murmured something in Aden's ear and he nodded. "We should get going," he said, offering me a hand but I ignored it, stiffly standing on my own. My entire body ached, like I had just run a marathon, as I followed him out the door.
I thought I heard Paris whisper "be careful," but when I looked back she was gone.
\*\*\*
It turned out that everyone who worked on the base lived there. Not a big surprise, considering how human military bases were built, with on-site housing. Rows of apartments and townhouses carved right from the rock sprang up around us, plain white structures that rose all the way to the lighted ceiling of the domed structure we now walked in. The whole place had a very primitive feel, with its hanging cables and Stone Age style décor. Dirt roads divided the base into blocks. There weren't any sidewalks; I supposed without cars, they didn't really need any, as civilians could just walk down the street. Some apartments had little pots with fake plants, but other than that there was no greenery. Everything was a shade of gray, brown, or black.
It's about as charming as the Red Sector.
The housing section was separated from the rest of the pyramid-like base, with its own laundry facilities and a small grocery/convenient store. There were also a few restaurants and even an arcade on one block. Outside the base, the air was climate-controlled, though it was still a little cool and damp-feeling. I guessed it couldn't be helped since we were underground.
"Do all vampires live here?" I asked. "Within the base, I mean?"
Aden walked a few steps in front of me, never turning his head. "No. There are other... locations."
I wanted to press him further, but his tone suggested the subject was off-limits.
For now. Until I gain his trust.
We paused at a wrought iron gate and Aden slid a card through a security box before it beeped and the gate swung open. I glanced up as we passed through, noticing the forget-me-not emblem embossed on a seal above our heads.
It's the same image that so closely resembles my birthmark. What had Aden and Frost called it?
It clicked in my memory. "What's the Mark of the Creator?"
Aden flinched, his hand tightening at his side. "It's based off an old legend. It's linked to the first vampire that was ever created. The crest of the Royal House, so to say."
"So this first vampire... he was a king?"
"We think so. There are few records left from the time of his reign, right around the dawn of the Dark Ages in Europe, about the 5century AD."
"Wow." I imagined medieval castles and grinned. "You don't mean Count Dracula, do you?"
He snorted. "Hardly. Besides, the real Dracula -- 'Vlad the Impaler' as he was called -- lived much later, during the 1400's."
I absorbed this, wondering if there was any connection between the two rulers, but quickly dismissed that thought. As far as we knew, Dracula had been more of a nut-job and not a real vampire. But then again, three years ago, we thought vampires were a figment of horror movies. They had turned out to be real enough. Could it be that all the old legends surrounding the Count actually carried a grain of truth?
Aden turned up a stone sidewalk, walking to the door of what appeared to be a townhouse tucked off in the corner by itself. I supposed if you were the captain you were granted special privileges, like some semblance of privacy in this crowded neighborhood.
He took out a set of keys and inserted one into the door, unlocking it with a soft click.
"Remember," he said, "once you cross the threshold, the anklet will be activated."
I sighed. "I know. Don't worry. I have no desire to be electrocuted any time soon. I'll be an angel and stay inside like a good prisoner."
He suppressed a laugh and opened the door, stepping inside.
I hesitated on the landing, staring into the darkness that was to be my prison. Once I went in, there would be no going back. But honestly, where would I go at this point? I had no idea how to get out of here, let alone how to find my way to the surface.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside. The anklet beeped, and I heard it hum to life as I walked into the foyer. It was pitch black and silent; I wondered where Aden had gone.
Hopefully to turn on some lights. I can't see a thing.
Even with enhanced vision, it still took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness. I could make out the outline of furniture, but no light hinted at anything else, as there weren't any windows. The walls were barren, save for a few framed paintings and some unlit lamps.
"Aden?" I called, but no one answered. Annoyed he had just abandoned me, I took a step farther into the darkness, hearing a board creak behind me about the time I registered an unfamiliar signature.
Fingers dug into my shoulder without warning. I yelped and spun around as I made a fist, ready to lay out whoever had grabbed me.
Everything moved in slow motion. As I spun, my eyes widened, taking in what appeared to be a younger version of Martha Stewart. The woman had immaculately styled platinum blond hair, which was held back by a broad white head band, and a warm face with petite features.
Features I was seriously about to damage.
She was too close, and I couldn't stop. My jaw slowly dropped in horror as her smile vanished, replaced by alarm as she registered what I was about to do.
Oh God.
I tried pulling back but it was too late.
Less than three inches until impact, Aden shoved the woman out of the way, and my fist firmly connected with his jaw. He stumbled from the blow and swore.
I cupped my hands over my mouth in horror, apologies streaming from my lips in a frantic blur.
Aden gave me an icy glare before the woman broke the awkward silence. "Hi, Sloane," she said, smiling sweetly, as if I hadn't just tried to deck her. Her voice was light and airy, as dainty as her appearance. "I'm Rose Knight, Aden's mother."
I blinked in surprise. Aden lived with his mom? A quick scan of her signature told me she was also a vampire. Staring at her, I saw where Aden had inherited his pale features.
"It's so nice to finally meet you," she said. "You've been all Aden could talk about."
"Mom," Aden groaned, sounding much more like a teenager.
I flushed, surprised, but kept my face impassive as she extended her hand and I tentatively shook it.
She smiled sheepishly. "I apologize for frightening you. You must have had a long day. No one can blame you for being a little, well, 'edgy.'"
I wanted to laugh. "Edgy" doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling right now.
I just nodded, not quite meeting her eyes, and she hastily ushered Aden forward. "Well, I'm sure you're tired. Aden, dear, won't you show Sloane to her room?" She took my hands and squeezed them. "Please treat our home as your own."
"Thanks," I mumbled, taken aback by her kindness.
Mrs. Knight looked at her son and shook her head. "I'll fetch you an ice pack and some aspirin." She smiled at me one last time before walking off.
"Well," Aden said. "That went well." The words sounded funny, because he was trying to talk without moving his mouth much. He looked at me pointedly and I crossed my arms, refusing to look at him as my face burned. He made what sounded like a low growl in his throat and then started up the stairs, motioning for me to follow.
The townhouse was much bigger than it looked from the outside -- the interior stretched far into the earth, making it seem impossibly long compared to the tiny apartment you saw from the street. The stairwell curled into the expansive second floor, depositing us into a carpeted hallway lined with a few doors. Elaborate crystal sconces dotted the walls, lighting the way. As on the ground level, there weren't any hanging photographs, only paintings and other artwork. We passed a few doors before Aden threw one open, spilling warm, orange light into the hall.
"Your room's right across from the bathroom," he said, stepping aside. "Unfortunately, there's only one on this floor, so you'll be sharing it with me."
I walked past him into the room, and my jaw dropped.
It was huge. I wagered I could have fit my entire bedroom from back home and then some in it. The floor was covered in the same thick, white carpet as the other rooms, and the walls were painted a beautiful deep plum. The ceiling was comprised of fancy lacework tiles, and three amber-colored lamps of varying lengths dripped from the center, suspended on cables that resembled black ivy.
All the furniture was black, and everything in the room coordinated. On one wall was a massive king-sized bed with black and gold-flecked wrought iron railings. The comforter was quilted violet silk that dragged the floor, and a mountain of fancy pillows of different shapes was piled against the headboard. Directly across from the bed was a luxurious black leather couch, a coffee table, and on the parallel wall, the biggest flat-screen TV I had ever seen, complete with a Blue-ray player and a black mini-fridge. A desk and a book case sat in the corner beside a set of French doors I assumed was a closet. The thing that surprised me the most was the window, more of a decorative accent than for anything else. (I mean really, what could you watch from it? The non-existent birds?) It was fairly large, fitted with a bookshelf and a large window seat with plum colored upholstery. It looked like the perfect spot to curl up and read a book.
"Do you like it?" Aden asked, coming up beside me. He almost sounded nervous.
"It's beautiful," I breathed, and I meant it. It was the most gorgeous room I had ever seen.
"Cool," he replied awkwardly.
I giggled, and he quirked a brow. "What's so funny?"
I shook my head with a small smile. "Nothing. It's just kind of odd hearing you say something so..."
"Normal?"
"Casual," I offered, studying him. "You feel at home here, like you can be yourself. I can tell you're more relaxed. You don't have to wear the Captain's mask around your mom."
He looked... stunned. We stared at each other for a few long seconds, tension tightening in the room, before he cleared his throat and looked away. "By the way, feel free to make it your own. My mom was taking a shot in the dark when she designed it for you."
"Your mom designed this?"
"Yeah, she's an interior designer. She used to work for a design agency."
Before she became a vampire, I finished. I looked around again, still unable to believe that all the beauty around me was mine.
"Oh, and check this out." Aden walked across the room to the French doors. "We got a few things for you to wear. My mom says she'll take you shopping sometime later when you're able to leave the apartment."
I opened the door and flipped on the light. At first, I thought it was the smallest closet ever. Then I looked to my right and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. The closet ran behind the entire length of the TV wall, lined with racks, cubbies for shoes, and drawers. For the most part, the racks were empty, save for a few pairs of jeans and some plain shirts.
"All this" -- I motioned around the room -- "is for me?"
Aden nodded. "Yep. If you don't like the color --"
"It's amazing. I wouldn't change a thing."
Mrs. Knight's voice floated up the stairs. "Guess I'll go claim that aspirin," Aden said. "There are clean towels in the bathroom if you want to shower." He turned to leave.
"Hey," I said.
He paused, quirking a brow in that quizzical way of his.
"Sorry I punched you in the face," I mumbled, shifting my weight.
He tried to grin and then winced, touching his jaw. It was swollen, but I could tell it was already starting to heal. As he looked at me, something in his eyes shifted. "You can make it up to me."
My brows furrowed.
He walked back, stopping a few inches in front of me. "Go on a date with me."
I blinked in surprise. That wasn't what I had expected him to say. "I just punched you in the face, and you want to go out with me?"
"Eh, it's all relative. The way I see it, it's not every day I find a girl who can kick my ass. It's kind of hot." The non-bruised side of his face lifted into a wry smile.
I flushed. No one had ever called me "hot" before. My best friends were a bunch of guys, and they treated me like one of the boys. Then again, "hot" wasn't exactly a compliment in my book. It usually meant "bang-able," not exactly something a respectable girl wanted to be called.
"So what do you think?" he asked softly.
"No."
"No?"
I firmly shook my head. "No way. Not in your wildest dreams."
The look on his face said he clearly wasn't used to being blown off. His eyes held mine as he reached up to cradle my cheek. "Then I guess I'll have to change your mind."
I swatted his hand away and turned around before he could see me blush anymore. He chuckled, and I was afraid he'd push the topic but a few seconds later I heard the door close.
My heart beat wildly. What was the matter with me? This was the guy who ruined my life, so shouldn't I hate him? I tried to make sense of my feelings.
"All right, sure," I said to myself, pacing. "You're attracted to him. It's perfectly natural. He's handsome, he's surprisingly sweet, he's..."
He had been very kind to me, which was the exact opposite of the picture the government and my memories had painted for us. Vampires should be wild, feral creatures whose sole purpose was to prey on humans. But Aden and his mother, Paris, Rook and Angel, this place... they seemed normal, almost human, with the exception of the charming General Frost.
I groaned and rubbed my eyes, more confused than when I'd started.
As much as I wanted to just plop down on the bed and crash, my desire to be clean was greater. I decided to rummage through the closet, selecting a pair of faded jeans and a black T-shirt before heading to the bathroom.
One thing was for certain: Mrs. Knight was amazing at her job. The bathroom was also massive, with his and her sinks, a shower, a rack for your clothes and wet towels, and a giant old fashioned, clawfoot bathtub. The walls were a cool ice blue, and the floor was covered in blue and white tiles. All the fixtures were silver, and a hanging lamp pooled light onto the tub. The countertops were marbleized grey. Someone had already laid out shampoo, conditioner, and a razor alongside a fluffy white towel. I snatched them up and turned on the hot water in the shower, wondering where they got their water supply from. They probably drilled into the surface sewage system, similar to how they leeched off our electricity.
I stripped out of the uniform and gingerly climbed into the shower. Maybe it was because I'd been through hell the past few days, but for whatever reason it was the best shower I've ever had. I lingered in the steam, feeling my muscles begin to relax as the water poured over my body.
I didn't want to think. I didn't want to feel. For once since my life turned upside down, I just wanted to be alone and "not be." It was the only way I knew to keep myself glued together.
Water poured across my birthmark. I stood there, staring at it without blinking, lost in fractured memories. Every time I took a shower -- every glimpse of that forget-me-knot -- made me think of Orion. I couldn't help it. It was always there, ready to remind me of my betrayal.
Hot tears stung my eyes, and I took a deep breath. Easy there, Sloane. You have to keep it together. You have to be strong, for Leo.
I let out my breath, slowly, feeling myself calm down. "For Leo," I said with a nod.
I emerged from the shower a full forty-five minutes later. Heat radiated off my skin as I dressed and combed out my hair, feeling more relaxed than I had in days. It felt strange to wear normal clothes again. Since my mother had become Sovereign, my casual wear had consisted of a nice skirt or slacks and a blouse. The jeans and plain T-shirt were like precious gifts, and I relished the freedom I felt in them.
Someone knocked. "Come in," I called.
Aden poked his head in, wafting away steam. "Hey, my mom wanted me to ask if you'd like to join us for dinner."
Wonderful smells wafted through the door, and I licked my lips. "Sure. I'll be down in a second."
He left and I hesitated, fussing with my hair. Some part of me didn't quite want to go downstairs, and I wasn't really sure why. Could it be my unspoken grudge against Aden? I didn't know, and I debated about whether or not I should just skip dinner and stay in my room. My stomach growled, and I glared at it. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until he had mentioned food, and after stalling for a few more minutes I hauled myself downstairs.
Aden stepped around the corner the moment I cleared the stairwell. "There you are. Hey, come and eat. Mom's made steak tonight."
I followed him to the dining room and my eyes bulged. There was enough food to feed a small army. Every inch of the dining room table was covered in plates piled high with buttered rolls, salad, vegetables, deserts, and a variety of appetizers. Three places were set, already bearing the biggest steaks I had ever seen. A pitcher of what appeared to be iced tea and lemon sat on the table.
"I hope you're hungry," Mrs. Knight said, tucking cotton napkins beneath our silverware.
"It looks great," I said half-heartedly. Though I was hungry, I wasn't able to muster much enthusiasm, and my nerves pulled at my resolve as I approached the table.
What the hell is wrong with me? It's just dinner, not like I'm going into the Red Sector all over again.
Aden pulled out a chair for me and I gave him an odd look. "What are you, from the 1800's?"
"Actually, my mom and I have only been vampires for little under two years now." He took the seat beside mine and winked. "I just thought it might help my cause."
"Well, try all you like, but I'm not going to change my mind." I tried to unfold my napkin across my lap, but my fingers didn't seem to remember how to work when he was looking at me like that.
His mother sat across from me, at the other head of the table. She clasped her hands and bowed her head, at which I did the same. After she blessed the meal, we filled our plates with even more food. It smelled amazing and tasted as good as it looked. I wolfed it down like I hadn't eaten in months.
I was unable to keep my eyes from wandering toward Aden, not so much for his looks as for his sudden change in demeanor. He acted totally different around his mother, an enchanting stranger compared to the serious persona he portrayed as Captain Knight.
Mrs. Knight and Aden made light conversation, laughing and joking with one another. Their laughter was like a dagger cutting into my heart. Watching them reminded too much of my father and my brother, how we used to have dinners like this when I was young.
Back before my mother and the Eclipse destroyed our lives.
"So Sloane," Mrs. Knight said, turning her attention to me. I gripped my crystal glass a little harder, bracing myself. "What grade are you in?"
"I'm a senior. Was a senior," I answered tightly.
She raised her brows, a small smile on her lips, and looked at Aden, who merely rolled his eyes. "The same grade level as Aden. That's nice."
I wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, so I popped another forkful of salad into my mouth.
"Were you thinking about going to college?" she asked politely.
I nearly choked. College? She was joking, right? Judging from my current situation, I didn't see how that was going to be possible even if I did want to go, which I wasn't sure about to begin with. "What's the point in thinking about it now?"
Her fork froze midair. Aden watched me, a wary look on his face. "I mean, college isn't always the best choice for everyone," she said carefully, as if trying to calm a wild horse. "I know some would rather go to a technical school, or just join the workforce."
I stared at my plate, my mouth a tight, thin line. "None of that matters anymore. I couldn't go to school even if I wanted to now."
"Not the case," Aden said. "There are vampires that live above the surface, blending in and going about their lives as if they were human. It's tricky, of course. Though we don't sparkle in sunlight" -- he said this with a snort -- "we can literally burst into flames if we're exposed to too much of it, so most vampires have to take graveyard shifts, or go to night or online classes."
I set down my fork somewhat forcefully, dropping my eyes. "So what you're telling me is I'll never be able to lead a normal life."
Aden and his mother paused, uneasy. "You could lead one here. With us... with me," he said hopefully.
My head snapped up, flames blazing in my eyes. "I don't want you! I never asked for any of this!"
Hurt flashed across Aden's eyes, but his mother was the one who answered. "None of us wanted this," she said gently. "But we're managing the best we can. It's all we can do."
I turned on her. "You at least have each other" -- I pointed between them -- "which is more than I have." I rose from my seat, embarrassed at the way I was behaving but unable to stop myself. "Sorry, but I've lost my appetite."
"All right," Mrs. Knight said, her voice warbling as she stood. "I'll fix a tray up for you and send it up --"
"I don't want any more of your fucking courtesy!"
Aden flew out of his chair so hard it fell over. He jerked me by the arm. "You're done."
I didn't struggle as he led me from the room; I was too shocked from my behavior for that. Right before we turned the corner, I looked back, seeing tears welling in Mrs. Knight's eyes.
Aden didn't slow when we hit the stairs. I probably would have been dragged if I wasn't a vampire and could match his speed.
He threw open my door, shoving me inside. "What the hell is your problem?"
I was too ashamed to meet his eyes. Mrs. Knight had been nothing but kind to me. Why had I said something like that?
Because you're hurting, and you wanted her to hurt, too.
"I don't know," I said weakly.
His hands were all over the place, gripping his jeans, his shirt, running through his hair. I wondered if I should be worried about him hitting me.
"I know what you're going through. Believe me, I've been there. But your life wasn't the only one that was shit on. Nobody is prepared to become a vampire. There aren't any guidebooks on it, no clues to help you out. But I'm here. My mother, Paris, Rook, Angel, we're all here to help you, which is a hell of a lot more than the rest of us had coming in. So stop acting like the world owes you something."
His words stung. Deep down, I knew he was right. "I'm sorry," I whispered, face burning. "I'm so terribly sorry for the things I said. I just --" I bit my tongue. Why was I apologizing to him, of all people? He ruined my life.
Still, you had no right saying those things to Mrs. Knight.
I felt terrible for that. My knees shook and I started to crumple to the floor, but Aden caught me, lowering me until we were both on the carpet, his arms wrapped tightly around me.
I held back my tears. Crying never did me any good, and there was no way I was going to bawl like a baby in front of him. I wriggled out of his grasp, leaning against the couch. Something popped into my mind. "Why didn't you tell Frost about me? She's your commanding officer."
Aden looked startled by my question, and almost instantaneously, his Captain mask dropped back into place, cold and distant. "I didn't have time," he said simply, rising. He offered me his hand and this time I took it, more questions dancing along my tongue.
I searched his eyes. "You're hiding something from me."
His mouth turned up into a sardonic smile. "Me, keep secrets? Never."
Then without another word, he walked out of the room.
I immediately knew I was dreaming because my twin was there.
It was Halloween three years ago. Orion got out of the car, dressed as Jerry Springer, and grinned at me. "Come on, Sloane. Don't be a chickenshit. This was your idea."
I stuck my tongue out at him, but returned his smile as I climbed out of Rook's black 1985 Camaro, flaunting a leather mini skirt as Batgirl.
At sixteen -- a full two years older than Orion and me -- Rook was the only one who actually had a car and a driver's license, which meant he usually ended up playing "chauffeur." Dad had given my brother and me a few driving lessons, taking us to empty parking lots to practice when he had a weekend off (which was rare, since his schedule at the factory alternated between day and night shifts). But it would still be a while before either of us could get a license, and probably even longer before we could afford a car.
I walked up to Orion and Rook (who was dressed as a zombie hockey player). The old house loomed before us, looking grey and ominous with its boarded up windows and NO TRESPASSING signs. Since the house was in the middle of nowhere, we didn't bother locking the doors. Rook even left the keys in the ignition.
"Scared, sis?" Orion asked.
"Yeah, right." I gave him a light shove. "I'm just here to make sure you actually follow through with my dare."
Part of me was a little spooked of going inside the abandoned Miller Mansion, especially with the lore surrounding it. According to the local papers, a family was found mysteriously murdered there in the late 1800's. Occult activity was suspected, as their wrists and throats had been slit, and the bodies had been nearly completely drained of blood. The killer (or killers) was never found, and the case remained open to this day.
I completely loved anything spooky. Halloween was my favorite holiday, and we always made a point to do something "Mystery Inc.ish," like ghost hunting. This year, I had dared my brother to go inside the Miller Mansion and bring back something of Mrs. Miller's, who they found clutching the butcher knife they suspected she'd used to kill the rest of her family before killing herself. We'd rounded up Rook and left Kate's costume party shortly before midnight to come here. My skin tingled with excitement, but also something else, almost like a warning.
I kept my reservations to myself, not wanting to look like a wuss in front of the guys, especially Orion. He'd never let me live it down.
I frowned slightly. Too bad Leo couldn't make it out. He would have loved this. When I had phoned him up earlier, he had declined, saying he had the flu (judging from the sound of his voice, I wouldn't want to go anywhere near him). I promised to tell him all about it when I saw him at school.
My brother and Rook had already started toward the house. "Come on, Batgirl," Orion called. He and Rook were already disappearing in the shadows that ran alongside the house. I giggled and followed after them.
We walked around the side to the backdoor, which was secured with a padlock as thick as my forearm. "How are we supposed to get in?" I asked, examining it. It looked new. I bet we weren't the only ones seeking a cheap thrill around this time of year, and the city had updated the locks, wanting to keep it as secure as possible. The place was one of Pittsburgh's "historical monuments," and we could definitely get into big trouble if we were caught trespassing.
Orion whipped out a flashlight and shone the beam on the ground. "'Oh ye, of little faith.'" He pushed aside the weeds, revealing a set of old wooden doors. They were also locked, but the lock looked ancient. It was coated in so much rust that it was a burnt orange color, unlike the shiny silver of the other lock. Orion reached into his duffel bag and pulled out Dad's bolt-cutters.
I laughed. "Dad would kill us."
"He doesn't have to know," Orion said, snapping the bolt off with little effort. He tossed it aside and pulled the doors open. Stale air rushed up and we all gagged.
"Whoa," Rook said, covering his mouth with his arm. "Smells like something died."
Orion wrinkled his nose. "Probably just an animal."
A bolt of fear surged through me as I took in the decay coating the air. I wanted to run but I was helpless, trapped inside the other Sloane's body as she pasted on a bold grin and climbed down the ladder into the basement, covering her nose and mouth with her hand.
It's like I was there but wasn't there, a bystander watching the events unfold through 14-year-old Sloane's mind. This wasn't simply a dream -- it was a memory.
I screamed at her to turn around while she still could, but she took a flashlight from her utility belt as the others joined her/me.
More flashlights flipped on. "Oh, sweet! Check this out." Rook pointed to a shelf lined with containers. We all shuffled closer to examine them. Most had some sort of liquid in them, though it was too opaque to see much of what was inside. I shined my flashlight on one, and something long and bloated drifted past the edge of the light.
"Oh my God," I said. "Is that a finger?"
"No freakin' way!" Orion leaned forward, completely engrossed in my find. I tilted my head ever so slightly, catching Rook's eye, and winked.
Taking my cue, Rook snuck up behind Orion and grabbed him by the shoulders, screaming into his ear.
Orion leaped about two feet in the air, nearly knocking over the shelves in the process. He rounded on Rook and punched him in the arm so hard he staggered a bit. "You think that was funny, smartass?!" Orion yelled, clenching his fists. His normally mischievous smile was gone, and his eyes had gone steely. I recognized the look on his face, the same craving for bloodshed I saw him get whenever he got into a fight. As much as I loved my brother, I hated the darker side of him, like when we were growing up, how he'd pull off butterfly wings because he thought it was funny, or said disturbing things like, "Wouldn't it fun to drown Ms. Allerby's cat? Then it wouldn't use our yard for a litter box anymore."
I quickly stepped between them as my brother advanced on Rook. "Back off, Orion," I said, throwing up my hands. "We were only joking, and you know it."
Orion blinked at me, and just like that his goofy grin was back. "Hey, I know that" he said, tapping me on the arm with a playful punch. "Maybe I was just playing too." He laughed awkwardly and I let my arms down, giving Rook an apologetic smile. We both knew the risks of hanging out with my brother. His dark mood swings were just part of "the whole package," but he was largely a good guy and a lot of fun to be around.
Something -- a shadow -- darted away in the corner of my vision.
I stiffened, scanning the dark. "What was that?"
The others paused, a look of fear crossing their faces before Rook laughed. "It's probably a rat or something scavenging off of whatever died down here."
"Yeah, this reeks," Orion said. "Let's see what's upstairs."
Something about the shadow set me on edge and I gladly let him pass, dismissing the thought to paranoia and the jitters. We found a rickety looking ladder and climbed the short ascent to the main floor. It looked like we had walked into a parlor.
As far as haunted houses go, this one was pretty damn creepy. Moth-eaten sheets were draped across the furniture, and there was so much dust and dirt floating in the air that it looked like mist. My throat immediately began to itch; it wasn't long before I started coughing.
"Hey, sis," Orion said, looking back at me. "Could you tone it down a notch? You're kind of ruining the mood for me."
I was about to respond with a rude comment when Rook's light landed on a chair. There was an odd shape to the sheet lying across it.
"What's that?" I asked, pointing.
Rook moved the light back until it was directly on the chair. At first, I didn't want to believe what I saw, how the folds of the sheet outlined arms and legs and a lowered head.
No one moved and I knew we were all thinking the exact same thing.
Orion broke the silence. "Is that... a body?"
The sheet stirred, lifting just enough to see long, blackened nails dig into the armrests before a creature straight out of hell pounced on us.
I opened my mouth to scream, but all that came out was a choked gasp for air. There was a roar, almost human, right before Rook and Orion started screaming, their terror-filled faces burned into my mind as I spun on my heel and ran.
\*\*\*
Someone was shaking me. "Sloane! Sloane, wake up!"
Orion and Rook's screams filled my head. I hadn't realized I had also been screaming in real life until I jerked awake with a shriek, bolting upright. Two sinewy but strong arms looped around me, holding me tight.
I thrashed wildly, still halfway locked inside the dream. "Let me go! Let me go!"
The arms tightened around me, followed by a familiar, deep voice. "It's all right! You're safe!"
I took a shaky breath and closed my eyes as my terror subsided. "Aden," I breathed, heart pounding. I caught the faint trace of something sharp yet sweet hanging on the air, coming from Aden's skin.
He gently rocked me back and forth. "It's all right," he repeated. "You're safe."
I took a calming breath, but every time I closed my eyes all I could see were Orion's bloody body and the sunken-in face of the vampire tearing him apart. My voice shook with a sob. "I'm a monster," I whispered, silent tears spilling down my cheeks.
"No," Aden said firmly, holding me at arm's length. I was a bit awed at how excellent vampire vision was in the dark; I could see every feature of his face clearly. "Listen to me." He gently wiped away my tears with his thumbs. "You are not a monster. You're human, a living, breathing human. You got that?"
I searched his eyes. "But what if I hurt the ones I love?"
"Then it makes you more human." He smiled faintly. "We all make mistakes, Sloane."
I shook my head. My bangs were glued to my forehead by sweat. "I don't know. Some mistakes are too horrible to forgive. My brother..."
Aden's eyes darkened. "That is not your fault. At some point, you're going to have to stop living in the past and learn to live for yourself again."
He said it harshly and I bit my lip, thinking maybe he was just edgy because my screaming and thrashing had awoken him. "I'm sorry I woke you up," I said, untangling myself from his arms. When I lay back down, I turned away from him, hoping he hadn't seen how red my face was. My hands were shaking so badly that I had to clutch the pillow to still them.
I thought maybe he would leave, but instead I felt the bed give as he lay beside me, atop the covers.
"What are you --"
"Chill," he said. "You're still freaked out. I can feel it. I'm only staying until you fall asleep. I won't try anything, I promise."
I wanted to push him away, to pretend the dream was nothing, and to ignore the fact he was causing my heart to race. But instead I turned away from him, settling into the mattress with Aden's warmth at my back.
As I lay there the smell sharpened, and the names of the spices came to me.
It smells like cinnamon and cloves.
The cologne was familiar, though I couldn't remember how. I breathed it in, and a warm feeling like love blanketed me as a memory I couldn't quite see tugged at my mind. Feelings of adoration and love consumed me, chasing away my fears, and I was asleep within seconds.
This time, I didn't dream.
When I woke up the next morning, Aden was gone. I stayed in my room for as long as I could, afraid that if I ran into him -- which was inevitable considering we lived on the same floor -- it would be awkward. I didn't know entirely what to make of this carefree, gentle side to him... a side I was dangerously attracted to.
I lay in bed until I thought my bladder would explode before caving and stepping outside my room. Aden was already in the bathroom. I froze in the door, panicked.
"Oh hey," he said, spitting out toothpaste and rinsing his toothbrush. "I was just finishing up. Bathroom's all yours."
He walked by me without so much as a smile. It was completely normal, like any other time we'd casually talked to each other. Relief coursed through me, but I couldn't ignore the twinge of disappointment I felt deep in my gut.
I stayed in my room for most of the time, too embarrassed to face Mrs. Knight after what I had said to her. But -- bless her -- she was quick to makeup. In the early afternoon, she brought a tray of food to my room, and I was at first stunned to see her in the doorway. Then she smiled at me and I almost burst into tears. She hugged me. I let her and it was awkward, mostly because I didn't hug her back. I wasn't sure if I either wanted or deserved to.
We separated and I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor.
"I'm sorry for what I said. I had no right... I didn't mean to..." I gritted my teeth, unable to put exactly what I was trying to say into words.
Mrs. Knight placed a hand on my shoulder, smiling. "It's all right. No harm done. We've all been there, Sloane."
I immediately felt lighter.
That night, I went down to dinner. Aden looked a bit surprised to see me (I hadn't seen much of him since we spoke in the bathroom this morning), but he didn't bring up last night's dinner and we all three sat down to eat as if nothing had ever happened. I'll admit, it was kind of nice, just being able to eat and not worry about whether I was behaving "like a proper lady," as my mom would have put it.
My spirits somewhat brightened after Mrs. Knight and I spoke, and before I knew it three days had passed and Aden's suspension was lifted. One of Frost's personal guards arrived early in the morning to have Aden sign some paperwork before he could officially return to the academy. I stood at the top of the stairs, having woken up early because of all the commotion. Aden spotted me. "Good. You're awake." He climbed the stairs and handed me a black package. "Get dressed."
I took it, confused. "What's this?"
"Your uniform," he said with a grim smile. "If you're going to be Frost's lackey, you have to look the part."
"But I thought I wasn't allowed to leave the house?"
Aden shook his head. "Since you swore fealty to the Syndicate, you can start training at the academy. Provided, I have to be with you at all times, since Frost made me your guardian."
More like so you can both spy on me all the time.
Aden ushered me up the stairs. "Go get changed. Classes start in less than a half hour, and we still have some paperwork to take care of."
Part of me was bummed I would be training. I was hoping that once Aden was gone, I could search the house for my phone and Leo's dagger, but with the chip in my arm, I figured it was just as well I didn't have the opportunity to land myself in more trouble. They'd probably be tracking my every move, and besides, they probably had my things under lock and key somewhere deep within the base.
I let Aden shoo me back upstairs to my bedroom, where I stripped out of my pajamas and pulled on the black jacket and skirt, along with the tall knee-length boots. A single bronze chevron was patched onto my sleeve. I pulled my hair up into a bun, and after seeing my sallow complexion, I decided to apply a light layer of foundation to hide the bags under my eyes (Mrs. Knight had thought of everything when she set up my room, including a small makeup stash). Since the night I had dreamed of my brother, I hadn't slept very well. My body was restless, my mind going over the events from the past few days.
I looked at myself in the mirror. The cold soldier facing me was a far cry from the well-dressed school girl I saw a few days ago.
This is it, I told my reflection, staring her in the eyes. You're doing this so you can find a way out of here, to warn Leo. My heart ached at his name, making my resolve to save him that much stronger. Scanning myself one last time, I left the room and went downstairs.
Aden met me by the door, already dressed in his black uniform. He gave me an appraising look. "Not bad."
His eyes lingered on the hem of my skirt a little longer than they should have, and I cleared my throat.
He at least had the decency to blush. "What can I say? I might be your commanding officer, but I'm still a guy."
Aden stepped outside and I paused in the doorway, staring at the sidewalk like it might jump up and bite me. Though Aden had sworn the anklet would be deactivated while I was training, it didn't mean I was quick to find out otherwise.
Aden rolled his eyes. "Nothing will happen, I promise. You can trust me."
I looked up at him, shivering at the gentleness in his voice. His eyes shimmered, and before I knew what I was doing, I had one foot planted on the ground.
Nothing had happened.
Feeling braver, I fully stepped outside. My brother and I had a dog one time, when we were little. I felt like Sandy now, our caramel colored cocker spaniel, when she had first stepped into snow, tentative and unsure.
I let my shoulders relax, and followed Aden as he took off at a brisk pace.
My stomach flip-flopped as we walked toward the base. I kept glancing down at my right wrist, making absolutely sure my tattoo was covered. I had even slopped some makeup on it to dull the outline of the cross, which was marred anyway thanks to the Scarlet Steel. Still, it wouldn't take a genius to guess what the ink meant, not after my rather disastrous debut.
I wondered how the other students would react to seeing me. Would they shun me? Would some of them even try to kill me, knowing what I was? These thoughts preoccupied me as we walked, so much that I didn't notice we were at the base until we were inside (the academy was on the ground level). Aden led me into the main lobby and I swore the temperature dropped. Students and staff alike froze to shoot us glaring looks, giving me a wide birth as Aden opened an office door for me. I stared straight ahead as I went inside, ignoring them while fighting to keep my cheeks from burning.
Several receptionists, all dressed in red military garb, looked up at once. Their eyes widened in sync, until Aden pointedly cleared his throat and they all went back to their business. I pasted a look of complete indifference on my face and followed Aden up to the front desk.
A plump woman with rosy cheeks smiled a little too brightly. "Captain Knight!" She was trying to be pleasant, but I could tell it was strained. "What can I do for you today?"
The Aden I saw at the apartment -- the true Aden -- was gone. His face was stern as he said smoothly, "Mary, this is Sloane McAllister."
"I know who she is," Mary squeaked.
Aden sharpened his voice and she visibly drew back. "As her training begins today, we will need to square away registration papers before Ms. McAllister is officially enlisted."
The woman glanced at me and paled. "She's training?"
Aden's jaw twitched. "Is that a problem?"
"Er, no, Captain Knight. It's just --"
"I know what she is," he said softly, voice as hard as steel. "But if you'd like to personally take it up with General Frost, I'm sure I can arrange an appointment."
Her skin turned even whiter and I felt her fear. "Fr-Frost?" she stammered. "No, no that won't be necessary. If the General commands it..."
Aden smiled in cool satisfaction as she scurried away to retrieve whatever items I needed to fill out and sign. I glanced at him and caught his wink from the corner of my eye.
The woman returned in a flurry of rustling skirts and papers, so anxious she nearly dropped them in the process. "All right, Ms. McAllister," she said with a tight smile. She handed me a pen. "I just need you to fill out a few things, and we can get you all squared away."
I reached up to take the papers she offered, but Aden snatched them from her grasp. "As I'm in a bit of a hurry, I think I'll speed things along." He turned to me. "I'll explain the fine print later. Just sign here, here, and here and that should be adequate for now."
"What about the physical?" I asked, pointing to a clause.
"Don't worry about it," he said quickly, taking the pen and scribbling what I assumed was a signature. "I'll see if Paris can squeeze you in sometime later."
I blinked. Calm down, Aden. I don't think they'll fire you, or whatever they do down here if I'm a few minutes late to class.
"O-kay," I said slowly. He handed me the pen back and I signed my name where he said, not asking any questions. As I signed away my life -- my freedom -- I felt a knot coil in my stomach. By agreeing to this, it meant forsaking my humanity, in a way.
I took a deep breath as I handed the papers and pen back to the secretary. This is only temporary, to make ends meet. I won't be doing Leo any good if I'm dead.
Aden bid the secretary farewell and we left with my schedule in tow. It was fairly generic, a handful of education classes on top of some basic hand-to-hand combat training. "They want to observe you, to know they can trust you not to go guerilla on us after we've put you through the full training course," Aden said. "Once your probation is lifted, you'll have more combat training, though you'll still have a few general education classes. They want everyone enlisted to receive a well-rounded education."
Inwardly I scowled, my mind stuck on his first comment. Great, as if being babysat wasn't bad enough.
I nodded, acting as if it didn't faze me. "Understandable."
Deep in thought, I idly followed Aden across the main lobby and down a hallway lined with classrooms. I figured I'd be watched, but I hadn't counted on being under 24/7 surveillance. How was I supposed to look for a way out if I never had a chance to be alone?
At the end of the hall was a locker room. It was kind of creepy, with a low ceiling and poor lighting that flickered erratically, like it might go out any minute. Aden showed me my locker -- which was basically a grey, rusty box -- and handed me a slip of paper with my combination before leading me back down the hall to an open door. I looked inside. For the most part, it looked like an ordinary classroom, with desks and a chalk board where a willowy woman in a red military uniform stood.
"Your first class is calculus," Aden said, handing me the schedule. I brightened a bit at the mention of my favorite subject and thought maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all. Math had always come naturally to me. The numbers, the rules; they all fit together in a way life couldn't match. With mathematics, everything had a logical place and it was simple.
Aden reached into his pocket and produced a shiny bronze name badge. He stepped toward me, so close that our chests nearly touched, and pinned it on my lapel. An unexpected blush crept to my cheeks at his closeness and I squirmed under his gaze.
"There," he said softly, stepping back. "Now it's official. Welcome to the Syndicate, Sergeant McAllister."
I looked down. There on the badge was my name, preceded by the abbreviation SGT. I reached up and touched it, this new item that branded me as a true vampire supporter. Anger, old and restless, stirred in my gut, and I quickly pushed my mind to other things, afraid I would focus too much on my hatred and forget my promise to Leo.
Aden's mouth curled at the corner into a small smile. "Do you know how to salute?"
Without hesitation, I raised my right hand to my forehead at an angle. "I've spent almost the past two years around my mother, who was a Marine, remember?"
Aden nodded and my hand fell back to my side. "Of course you'd know. As a note, whenever you see me or someone of similar ranking, you are to stop, face them, and salute. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir."
He suppressed a grin and I resisted the urge to smack him on the arm. "All right," he said. "I have some business to attend to, but I'll meet up with you later, around lunch."
He started to walk off. "Wait a minute," I called. "Aren't you supposed to be guarding me or something?"
He turned around and threw me an amused look. "I think you can handle things for an hour or two." His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, a sliver of his natural self slipping in. "Unless you want to admit you need me."
I flushed under his intense gaze, caught off guard. "That's completely ridi --"
"There you are!" squealed a bubbly voice. "I was wondering what had happened to you."
I turned around, coming face-to-face with a pair of wide blue eyes. Excitement radiated in waves off of Angel as she tugged at my arm, pulling me into the classroom. I glanced over my shoulder, but Aden was gone.
Some bodyguard he is.
"Over here," Angel said, still tugging at my arm. "I saved you a seat, just in case."
I blinked. "Oh, er, thanks."
Every conversation stopped the moment we entered the room, and I felt the accusing stares of our colleagues on me. Emotions -- fear, disgust, hatred, and rage -- roved toward me in waves, so strong that I nearly choked on it. My thoughts had been so preoccupied with Aden that I hadn't prepared myself for such an onslaught of almost telekinetic power. My skin broke out in a cold sweat from trying to suppress the multiple connections struggling to form without my permission.
What's happening? Why is my glamour so out of control?
Angel picked up on my distress. "Hey," she said, gripping me by the shoulders and shielding me from the class. "Just take a deep breath. Focus on your breathing, and push the thoughts away."
I did as she said, though when I closed my eyes, I swayed. Her tiny hands tightened around my shoulders, holding me steady. "Breathe," she whispered. "Think of a calm, secret place."
Having no choice but to place some trust in her, I did as she said, seeing myself lying in the shade of a tree, a mere dot in the ocean of grass stretching out on either side of me. The air smelled of wildflowers, and sunlight dappled my skin. A gentle breeze caressed my hair, urging me to relax, as the sounds of the room faded away, replaced by the doldrums of the meadow.
"Good," Angel said, sounding farther away. "Now push every thought out of your head. If one comes up, just brush it aside. Don't judge any sounds you hear as negative or positive. Just let everything go, and focus only on your breathing and your secret place."
At first, it was difficult to do as she instructed. My head swam with stray thoughts, some not my own, and it took some effort to force them away. But soon my head cleared and I felt a perfect stillness I hadn't known in years. My breathing deepened and my shoulders relaxed.
Someone loudly cleared their throat and I sleepily opened my eyes. Angel blurred then focused, smiling. "Feel better?"
"Yeah," I said, a bit dreamily. "Loads. Thank you."
She shrugged it off, beaming. "Don't mention it."
"Ladies," said the teacher sternly. "Unless you plan on teaching today, I need you both to find seats."
"Sorry, Professor Sanchez," Angel said with a disarming smile. She grabbed my hand and we wove our way through the desks. I plopped down in the desk beside hers in the far corner of the room, grateful she'd had the foresight to position us near the back so I was less inclined to be stared at for the remainder of the class. Though Angel's technique had helped, it hadn't completely blocked out people's feelings. I still picked up stray thoughts and flutters of emotions. But as people's attention drifted away from me, their emotions calmed somewhat, allowing me to breathe and think again. It was like coming up for air after being submerged underwater for too long.
I sank back against my seat, shaken. What was that? How come I had all of a sudden been "attacked" by glamour? I hadn't encountered anything like that before.
Angel went to a shelf on the back wall and retrieved a rather worn textbook, placing it in front of me. "Here you go. Your own Book of Fun." She wrinkled her nose. "Or as I call it, the Book of Doom."
I smiled, not sure if I should tell her I found the first title more appropriate, at least for me. Angel sat down and handed me an extra notebook, a calculator, and some pencils and pens. "Aden asked me to pick these up for you," she said upon my curious look. "Figured you'd be running late today, with the paperwork and all."
I stopped and quirked a suspicious brow at her. "Has he asked you to spy on me?"
Angel's surprise was apparent. She blushed sheepishly. "Maybe. Sort of. Not really."
I sighed, suppressing a giggle at her discomfort. "It's okay. I thought it was too good to be true when he said he had other business to attend to this morning."
So much for freedom...
Angel looked a bit hurt and I hastily said, "Not that I mind. I appreciate what you've done for me, and I could definitely use a friend right now."
She seemed to brighten at this and I gave her a tentative smile. Angel was nice -- really nice, actually -- but there was something about her that didn't quite set well with me.
It's because she's one of them... a vampire.
No matter how human she acted, no matter how normal everyone appeared, I knew better. We were a far cry from our mortal selves, and I couldn't forget that ever, not if I wanted to get out of here to warn Leo.
The teacher began her lecture, asking us to open our textbooks to a certain page, and Angel and I both settled back into our seats, doing as she asked. I frowned when I saw today's lesson. Back in my old life, I had already gone through this. Oh, well. At least I knew I wasn't too terribly behind.
As the teacher droned on, writing out examples on the board, I scanned through my schedule. Everything was lined up in seven one hour blocks, with a thirty minute lunch between the fourth and fifth sessions. It read:
1st block: Calculus
2nd block: English Literature
3rd block: Endurance Training
4th block: World History
LUNCH (half hour)
5th block: Hand-to-hand combat
6th block: Offensive/defensive strategies
7th block: Sword fighting
"Sword fighting?" I said, keeping my voice low. "Are they kidding me?"
"Let me see." Angel leaned over and I pushed my schedule to the edge of my desk. Her eyes scanned the paper and she clucked her tongue. "It looks pretty basic for a first year, actually. Well, except for the advanced gen. ed. courses. You're a senior?"
"Yeah," I said, grimacing. "Or at least, I was. I'm not really sure what I am anymore."
Angel gave me a sympathetic smile. "It's not so bad, this way of life. At least we're safe down here."
Something occurred to me. "Am I... stuck like this? You know, forever?"
Angel blinked and cocked her head, making her curly pigtails sway to the side. "Stuck like what? A teenager?"
I nodded. Near the front of the room, the instructor was scribbling what looked like an assignment on the board.
Angel pursed her lips. "Not exactly. You'll still age, though it takes a while for it to really show."
"Like, how long are we talking?"
"Eh, I don't know. Something like one year for every three hundred."
"Every three hundred!"
The people in the rows in front of us turned around to glare and I flushed. "Sorry," I muttered.
Thankfully, the instructor hadn't seemed to notice my outburst. I glanced at Angel, but she was already buried in the assignment. I sighed and popped the point out on my pencil, settling in to do my work.
As the period wore on and people's attention turned to their homework, the mask of fear and hatred drifting on the air faded away. I had never been so grateful for homework in my life. I was the first to finish, and when I went to turn it in to the teacher, she looked it over with growing surprise. Brows raised, she wrote 100% at the top in red ink and handed it back to me. "Excellent, Sergeant McAllister," she said. She looked at me in awe, though I sensed her unease lurking beneath the surface.
I gave her an awkward smile and hastily walked back to my seat before the students had time to notice me. It was weird, wanting to be invisible. While I wasn't exactly the "queen bee" at my old school, I had kept a steady circle of friends, and I pretty much got along with everybody. But here, I was hated, shunned. It was harder than I expected, no matter how much I told myself I didn't care what they thought because they were a bunch of vampires.
The rest of the block passed and a single electronic bell chimed, signaling the end of the period. Everyone got up and I all but ran from the room, not wanting to endure another drowning in emotions.
"Hey, wait up!" Angel called, rushing after me. I walked down the hall, fighting the stream of students and trying to keep my head down. I felt Angel's eyes on me. "Are you okay? I know it's probably nerve-racking coming back after what happened." She shuddered, no doubt thinking about Frost's methods of persuasion. "But I swear, you have nothing to worry about with Aden watching over you. He's the best."
"Well, you don't see him exactly watching over me now, do you?" I looked around and sighed. There was still no sign of him.
It's for the best. You need to keep your head on straight. You should be thankful he's gone. That'll be one less distraction to deal with.
We were moving at such a quick pace that hardly anyone had time to notice me. I was in such a flurry to run -- anywhere -- that I almost tripped when Angel grabbed me and swung me around in a different direction.
"Hold up there," she said, charging down the hall at an equally brisk pace. "English lit. is this way, which you have with yours truly."
She winked at me, and some of my tension eased. I could feel her goodness seeping through her aura, and though it was somewhat comforting, it was also a reminder of my new condition. I shook my head, feeling shaky.
Angel suddenly pulled me to a stop. She was shorter than me by a few inches; even on her tiptoes, she wasn't quite eye level. "Hey," she said softly, "are you okay?"
I took a deep breath, still queasy from the earlier intake of emotions and slivers of thoughts that weren't mine. My eyes squeezed together, as if in doing so I could shut out the world. "It's nothing. I'm fine."
Angel cocked her head to the side again, chewing on her bottom lip. "Aden told me about the glamour," she said carefully. "Can't say I speak from experience or anything -- I'm actually pretty bad at it -- but in our courses, they teach us to meditate."
"Meditate?" I repeated doubtfully. "You mean what we were doing earlier?"
Angel nodded. "Yep. You don't have to go all Zen, but it's actually pretty relaxing, if for nothing else, to relieve stress. A really good time to practice is right before you go to bed."
I thought back to the classroom, how I had managed to subdue the glamour when I focused my mind on something else. Not easy but not undoable, either.
"Thanks for the advice," I said.
Angel smiled, and I could tell she was eager to help. "Barriers -- or blocking out other people's thoughts -- are a little harder to keep up until you get used to doing it. It's especially hard when you're stressed out or nervous."
I nodded. "Try not to freak out -- got it."
We began walking again, with Angel taking the lead. "By the way," she said, "I'm sorry about what Dezyre did." Her sweet blue eyes turned surprisingly steely. "She thinks she's entitled to special treatment just because she's the top medical student." She smirked. "About time she got what she deserved."
"What happened to her?" I had wondered why I hadn't run into her yet, figuring she'd greet me at the doors with a full-blown mob.
Angel smiled. "She was suspended for handling the situation poorly. There's no reason why things got as crazy as they did, and it was largely her fault."
Ha. Touché, bitch.
Angel motioned for me to speed up. "Come on, or we'll be late for class. And believe me, you don't want to serve detention here."
The students were thinning out when we turned the corner, and I picked up my pace. A couple of guys in white lab coats approached and my eyes lifted as they passed, meeting with cold glares. One guy locked eyes with me. He was tall and lean, with a sharp-angled face covered in a five 'o clock shadow. He looked like an average Joe, only his eyes were wicked and sharp, as sly and intelligent as Frost's were frigid and cruel.
"Hey guys," he said in a thick, gravelly voice. "Look who it is. It's none other than our little hunter superstar."
Angel dropped her voice. "Just ignore them." She tried to pull me along, but two of the lab techs blocked our path. She placed her hands on her hips. "Really? What are we, in the third grade? Come on guys."
She tried to pass, but one shoved her back so hard she nearly stumbled into me. I caught her, my eyes sharpening to slits as I fixed a steely glare on the techs. "Your beef is obviously with me. So let her go, and we can take this up personally."
"Oh, now what's this?" the gravelly-voiced man said, stepping forward. "Do you think I'm dumb enough to believe some hunter whore actually cares about a vampire?"
My eyes remained locked on his, my face a hard mask of steel as he leaned down. "You deserve to rot in hell for what your kind have done," he hissed.
"What's going on here?" barked a low, smooth voice. My gaze shifted to find Aden watching us, arms crossed and a frown on his face. "It can't be what it looks like, because I know better than to think that our base's finest laboratory technicians would be taunting two of our most promising recruits."
The lanky man snorted at the word "promising," covering his mouth with his hand as he muttered something under his breath.
Aden's sharp gaze snapped to him and he cringed as Aden stalked toward him. Aden loomed over him, and the tech shrank away from us and backed against the wall. "McAllister is under my charge," Aden said, his voice low and menacing. "When you threaten her, you threaten me. And I don't think you want to do that."
The man gulped, then smirked. "Nothing wrong with hittin' on the ladies, right guys?"
He looked to his comrades, who shrugged and laughed nervously, as if it was all a big joke.
Aden's eyes narrowed to slits. "Get back to the labs."
The rest of the techs scrambled down the hall, all too eager to get away, but the lone man lingered against the wall, glaring at me, before finally trailing after his colleagues.
I felt twinges of his resentment and anger toward not only me, but Aden. I was halfway done with shutting him out of my mind when the warning came through, barely readable but there all the same, and chills broke out along my arms.
They won't be able to protect you forever.
The man's last words -- or thought, rather -- hung in my head for the rest of the day. Aden also never left my side again. I didn't argue or complain, figuring neither would help my cause (warning Leo). While I was becoming more and more comfortable with the idea of having Aden as a bodyguard, I knew it was only a matter of time before someone tried to attack me again. Judging from the reactions of my fellow recruits, I was about as welcome here as a terrorist.
As Aden and I walked together toward my hand-to-hand combat session, no one spoke or looked at me. It was like being invisible, though I could feel their unease, thick and strong, around me.
We made a pit-stop by a bathroom, where Aden handed me a pair of black pants and told me to change out.
"You mean I can't fight in a skirt?" I joked, taking the pants from him.
Aden's mouth turned up at one corner. "Can't say I wouldn't mind."
Face red, I hurried into the bathroom and quickly changed out, somewhat excited and anxious at the prospect of sparring.
The combat course was taught in a spacious, rectangular room, and the floor was made out of different textures laid out in equal slabs -- padding, gravel, mud, water, ice, and cement.
I looked from one to the other. "What's up with the different floors?"
"They're arenas," Aden said, "to teach you how to fight on different surfaces."
I nodded, finding sense in it.
The rest of the room looked very similar to the one the Guild used back home to train in. Mirrors lined the walls, and punching bags hung fat and heavy from the ceiling. Sparring equipment -- helmets, shin guards, and gloves -- were stowed in cubbies off to the side, and a weapons rack, bearing everything from Sais to wooden staves, hung on the wall.
The rest of the class, a handful of soldiers around my age, was already gathered in the middle of the room, and when they saw Aden they gave him a salute. Everyone wore matching black uniforms, only I noted their chevrons were not bronze. They were all silver or gold, and each soldier had more than one on his or her sleeve.
I looked at Aden. "Am I in the wrong class? Everyone here is higher ranked than me."
Aden's mouth curled into a smug smile. "After fighting you myself, I suggested you train with the older soldiers."
"You what?"
He glanced at me, one brow quirked in challenge. "Scared?"
"No," I said haughtily, looking away. "Just surprised, that's all."
I heard him chuckle right before Rook walked into the room, dressed in black pants, combat boots, and a black tank top. His hair had been pulled back and his arms and chest bulged with muscles. I could see the outline of a six-pack through his top, and my brows rose.
"Rook's been working out," I murmured, but Aden shushed me.
"All right," Rook said, voice booming. For the second time upon arriving in the room, my brows rose. I didn't know Rook's voice could reach that volume. He had always been so gentle and soft spoken, but now he spoke with authority and menace. I didn't know what surprised me more -- Rook's stunning new appearance, or the fact that sweet, shy Rook was apparently our instructor. "We have a new recruit training with us today. Everyone, this is Sergeant McAllister."
Rook gestured toward me, and my classmates turned around. Surprise spread throughout the group as they took me in, realizing who I was.
"Now, regardless of previous... circumstances," Rook said, eyes hard as he surveyed his pupils, "we welcome her into our fold, and will treat her like one of our own. Is that clear?"
Everyone's heels clicked together and they saluted with a ringing, "Yes, sir!"
"Good." He nodded and folded his arms. "As you know, today is our quarterly exam, where I will personally test the knowledge of hand-to-hand combat you've garnered up to this point. Are there any volunteers to go first?"
Several of the trainees shuffled their feet, and a few quiet seconds passed before Aden raised his hand. "Sergeant McAllister would like to go."
"What?" I hissed. "Are you insane? I can't fight Rook! I haven't had any training!"
"Why not?" Aden said. "You've already taken on a Rogue, and that was while you were still human. You're a vampire now, and it's just a class. What's the worst that could happen?"
I don't know. Rook beating me to a bloody pulp?
"Excellent," Rook said, eyes flicking toward me. "Join me in the water rink, Sergeant McAllister."
I inwardly groaned. As if it wasn't bad enough I had to fight Rook, we had to duke it out in water, too?
I had never fought in water before, and my stomach flip-flopped as I made my way to the front of the class toward the pool arena. I started to remove my shoes when Rook snapped, "Leave them on. The extra tread will help."
Blushing, I stepped onto the platform, and hesitantly placed one foot in and then the other, gasping as the ice cold water rose halfway up my thighs.
The students gathered around. I could tell one cluster was placing bets on how quickly Rook would pulverize me. Setting my jaw, I faced Rook as he climbed into the pool on the opposite side.
My heart picked up speed as I took him in, all 300-something pounds of solid muscle.
Aden leaned over the railing, his mouth inches from my ear. "Stay calm, and look for an opening. If nothing else, just try to avoid him grabbing hold of you."
"Sure," I said, a little breathlessly. "No problem."
Rook stood stock still, his dark eyes burning into mine. I wondered what he was thinking, if he would take it easy on me since I was his friend. But looking at him now, he didn't seem like the Rook I grew up with. He was a predator, ruthless and wild.
Without warning, he charged me, water spraying up in waves on either side of his massive legs. Even as bulky as he was -- and despite the fact we were fighting in water -- he moved with uncanny grace and speed.
I darted to the side just as his fist slammed into the railing, narrowly missing me by inches. The foundation of the pool shook with the force of his blow, and I gulped, thankful that hadn't been my face. My boots slipped as I backed away from him, though not nearly so bad had I been barefoot.
Thanks for the tip, I thought as Rook whirled around, expression dead-set on hurting me.
He stalked forward and I skittered backwards, nearly falling over as my heel hit a bump, like a rock, in the pool's flooring. I ducked my hands under the water and felt the tips of plants brush my fingers.
Guess they want it to be as realistic as possible.
My mind raced through options as Rook drew closer, and I tried to calm my racing heart. I glanced up, seeing Aden watching me with a hand over his mouth in thought.
"Strike one!" Rook bellowed. "Never remove your eyes from the enemy!"
Before I could blink, he was upon me, wrapping his monster-sized hands around my neck. I managed to gulp down some air before he shoved my head underwater, pushing so hard the back of my skull dug into the muddy bottom. I struggled to get my feet under me, but he had me pinned. My lungs burned as my hands splayed out, grabbing at his wrists, and digging up chunks of plants.
Fear raced through me. Rook, what are you doing? Let me up, or I'm going to drown!
Still, he pressed against me, and darkness danced at the edge of my vision. Maybe I was wrong about him, when he had said he didn't blame me for what happened to him. What if he was actually very angry about it, so angry he'd want to kill me?
No. No, this is your Rook we're talking about. He would never intentionally hurt you. He's just pushing you. Think! Find a way out!
Something rough brushed against my fingers, and I grabbed for it.
A rope.
A wild idea formed in my head, and I suddenly went slack, praying my air would hold out long enough for it to work.
Rook's grip immediately relaxed, his fingers sliding from my neck. I let myself lay limp, my eyes closed as if dead, as he hauled me above the surface.
Someone's fear, real and vivid, coursed through me as Rook picked me up.
"You always go too far!" Aden yelled, his voice sounding funny because my ears were plugged with water. "They may be vampires, but they're not indestructible!"
"A Rogue wouldn't show an inch of mercy!" Rook snarled back. "My methods may be brutal, but at least they'll know --"
The rope was still clutched in my hand. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes, and with a fierce yell wrapped the rope around Rook's neck in a lasso. He dropped me to pull at the rope, and I used it to swing around, landing on Rook's back. I pulled up on the rope, tightening it, and Rook choked and stumbled, the extra weight on his back throwing him off balance. He tripped over something, and as he started to go down, I released my grip on the rope, springing off his back to land on the platform. There was a loud splash behind me as he went under, and I slowly stood, panting hard. I swayed, feeling a bit dizzy from lack of oxygen.
Groggily, Rook rose from the water, pulling the rope from his neck. The room was dead silent, the students gaping from me to Rook as he walked toward me and stepped out of the pool. I resisted the urge to back away, the memory of him trying to drown me still fresh on my mind. My eyes rose to meet his, and to my surprise, he smiled.
"Well done," he said. He turned to face the rest of the class, who erupted into applause, their expressions awed.
"McAllister has passed. Some of you would do well to take from her initiative and creativity." He patted me on the back, signaling I could go back to the crowd. He caught my gaze, something like regret in his eyes. Just when I thought he might speak, he turned away and shouted, "Next!"
I couldn't get away from Rook fast enough.
That was weird. What was that look for? Was he upset he didn't kill me after all? Or maybe he was sorry he almost did... Argh! I don't know what to think, or who to trust anymore!
I scowled, and looked up to see Aden waiting at the side of the pool, fidgeting and trying to contain the worry spreading across his face. I stopped in front of him, chilled and dripping onto the floor.
"I..." His eyes took every inch of me in, as if not believing I was there. Slowly, he raised his hand toward my cheek before abruptly clearing his throat, letting his hand drop back to his side in a clenched fist. Once again, his cool mask was in place. "Good job," he muttered, casting his eyes down.
I followed his gaze, staring at his hand. Another inch and it would have been touching my face...
"You'd better go change before you catch cold," Aden said tightly.
Briefly, I wondered if I had made him mad, but before I could ask, he turned on his heel and walked off, leaving me to my thoughts. Shouts broke out to my right as a new fight commenced, and I took the opportunity to slip out of the training room.
That was odd.
The halls were deserted as I walked back to the locker room, though I had the eerie feeling I was being watched. Every now and then, I would glimpse a camera, and hear the opening and closing of a lens. If my memory wasn't so good, I'm not sure I would have made it back to the lockers. Part of me was irritated at Aden for abandoning me so quickly after I had almost died, since it was supposed to be his job to watch over me, not to mention he hadn't done a thing to really stop it. He had almost acted mad I had nearly drowned.
Probably because I would've made him look bad, and he'd have to face Frost's wrath.
I noticed the smell the moment I turned the corner. It was strong, like meat rotting in the sun. I gagged, covering my nose and mouth with my hand as I stepped into the locker room. I sniffed the air, trying to figure out what it was and where it was coming from.
What is that?
I slowly walked farther into the room toward my locker. The scent was growing stronger.
With a weird mixture of curiosity and dread, I zipped through the combination and pulled on the latch. The door opened, and out spilled a bloody thing about the size of my fist onto the floor with a splat.
I jumped back, biting down hard on my tongue to suppress a yelp.
"What the..."
Fresh decay radiated off the object, and I bent down to look at it closer, hardly able to stand the stench. It was ovular, with tubes protruding from one side and weird blue-black veins crawling like vines across its slick, bloody surface. With a start, I recalled an image I had seen on a poster in my freshman biology class.
It was a heart, a human heart, or so I thought.
No, I corrected myself, picking up on the telekinetic signature, the same one I'd sensed on Paris, Aden, and everyone else at the base. Not a human heart - a vampire heart.
Something stuck out of the side of it, and I kicked the heart over with the tip of my boot. My stomach turned. There, embedded in the center, was a small black cross with a blood-smudged note tied to it.
Trembling -- from fear or shock, I don't know -- I knelt and gingerly pulled the note from the cross, unfurling it. My eyes widened as I took in the message, goose bumps sprouting along my clammy skin.
Scrawled in blood were the words "The wicked will burn."
I changed quickly and returned to class shaken. At the end of the day, I told Aden about the incident. He brushed it off, saying it was an empty threat, but an uneasy feeling remained with me, like I'd swallowed gravel.
What if Rook had planted the heart in my locker to shake me up? Maybe I was meant to see it before class, so he could kill me off more easily.
I shook my head. It was insane -- this was Rook. But I hadn't seen him for three years, and I had abandoned him and my brother to the Rogue. Maybe he wanted revenge. I felt sick at my stomach, I was so confused.
It took me a long while to fall asleep that night, since the image of the heart kept coming back to haunt me. I finally decided to try meditating, feeling somewhat stupid but calming down as I forced my mind to be perfectly blank. Around three in the morning, I had finally drifted off when a scream ripped through the air. A dream had seized me the moment I'd fallen prey to sleep, drawing me into Orion's last moments, and I bolted upright, reaching out and screaming, "Orion!"
As his screams died away in my head, I realized someone was actually screaming in real life, somewhere outside. The screams sounded strangled, more like a tortured animal. They were also very high-pitched.
It's a woman, I realized with a start.
I stumbled out of bed and threw open my door, walking the short distance down the hall to Aden's room and knocking on the door. When no one answered, I opened it to find his bed was still made, as if he hadn't been home yet.
My brows furrowed and another scream came, this one louder and more desperate than the others. Still groggy, I descended the stairs two at a time, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.
There was a warm, orange glow glaring off the floor right under the crack beneath the door. I crept up to the door and peeped through the hole. Bright colors swam past the porthole, but the lens distorted the shapes too much to peg down exactly what they were. I grasped the doorknob, hesitating.
Maybe I should wake Mrs. Knight, or try to locate Aden somehow. An agonized wail from the other side made me cringe, and gritting my teeth, I reached to unlock the door. I frowned. It was already unlocked.
Weird.
There was another scream, and I threw open the door. At first, I didn't believe what I was seeing. Men in long, hooded red robes stood in a line in front of the apartment, lighted torches in their hands. Their faces were covered, except for the two slits in the fabric that allowed them to see. They parted down the middle, revealing another robed figure clutching a woman to his chest, a red hot poker digging into her neck as she screamed.
A wave of terror rolled through me as my brain finally woke up and I realized who she was.
Mrs. Knight!
The man holding her captive looked up long enough to notice me, his cold intelligence shining through his eyes. "So trusting," he crooned, lifting the poker from Mrs. Knight's neck. Tears streamed down her pained face and she sagged in his arms, blood dripping onto her nightgown from the raised flesh on her neck. "Oh how easily the lamb comes to slaughter," he sang. "We called her, telling her something had happened to her precious Aden, and she stepped into our fold without question. So willing, so trusting." He looked at me, hatred and loathing filling his eyes. "Look what her trust has cost her, hunter."
I immediately recognized the thick, gravelly voice. It was the lab technician who had cornered Angel and me in the hall earlier today.
"Let her go!" I yelled, pausing in the doorway. The anklet hummed around my ankle, a reminder not to stray beyond this point. "Dammit!" I hissed. I hated feeling helpless.
The man surveyed me with satisfaction. "Ah, so the beast is caged," he said lightly. "Looks like this lion is less of a threat than I thought." He tossed Mrs. Knight to one of his colleagues. She tripped and nearly fell before the man yanked her back to her feet, jerking her arms behind her back as he took the poker from his leader. "She has sinned by aiding one of the wicked, and now she must be made an example of."
The word "wicked" echoed in my mind, and I looked at him sharply. "You're the one who put the heart in my locker."
His robes shook with laughter. "Not so stupid after all, is she gentlemen?" He looked around, and the others nodded their agreement, their laughter fueling my growing anger.
One of the men cackled and Mrs. Knight -- on the verge of unconsciousness -- fell forward, nearly taking him down with her. He hauled her up and backhanded her so hard across the face I heard her jaw unlock.
On instinct, I started out the door when a bolt of electricity surged up my leg, white hot and cold as ice at once. My muscles tingled then went numb, convulsing in spasms as I struggled to step back inside. The shock ceased, and my whole body shook as I gripped the doorframe.
Damn! Aden wasn't kidding when he said it packed "twice the punch."
The man howled with laughter. "Try that again! Please!"
Shaking, I straightened, anger humming along my skin with the residue of the shock. I looked at Mrs. Knight. Her head had lolled to one side, and her mouth was set at an odd angle. An ugly bruise bloomed along her jaw.
My eyes widened in horror as the leader drew back the fold of his robe and produced a butcher's knife. Its jagged teeth gleamed in the firelight as he slowly approached Mrs. Knight. He raised his hands and his voice. "This harlot has been found guilty of harboring a hunter! And for her transgression, she must be punished accordingly."
His comrade forced her down hard. Her bare knees hit the ground with a loud crack and she sobbed as the man pulled back on her hair, exposing her throat.
The leader positioned the blade along the side of her jugular.
"No!" I braced myself as I leaped from the door. Electricity immediately seized me, raking my body with jolts so painful I thought I would collapse right there. Thankfully, all the adrenaline coursing through my veins kept me alert enough to function through the pain. With a ferocious snarl that sounded more animal than human, I fought off the men that raced toward me, their knives and swords drawn.
The leader looked up in shock as I kicked a man hard, sending him flying into three others who had been running away. They fell down in a heap as I ran for the leader, my body being cooked from the inside out. I screamed, an outward manifestation of my inner turmoil, and threw such a hard right hook at the leader's face that he sailed through the air and landed a few feet away, letting go of the knife. It skittered to a stop at my feet. I snatched up the knife, and in a blur, cut the throat of the man holding Mrs. Knight. His eyes widened in shock as he keeled over, dead. Mrs. Knight fell onto her side, panting and crying.
My eyes snapped up as the leader rose, rubbing his face through the hood. Blood was already seeping through the fabric, dyeing it dark red. "You're different from the others," he rasped. "You're faster, stronger... not vampire or human... a demon!"
One man tugged at his shoulder. "Come on! The guards will be here any minute!"
Sirens wailed in the distance as flashlights came into view. The leader scrambled to his feet and turned to run, tripping over his robe.
No you don't.
Flipping the blade, I hurled it at the leader. It spun through the air, tip over sheath, before embedding itself in the back of his neck. He gave a strangled cry before falling to his knees, then collapsed in a red heap.
I looked around. Everyone was gone; Mrs. Knight and I were alone. My chest constricted as my heart went into cardiac arrest, and I stumbled toward Mrs. Knight. I wanted to ask if she was okay, but I fell before I could reach her. Every nerve felt fried, my brain cooked as I lay there, twitching uncontrollably.
A shadow wearing a white jacket appeared over me right before my anklet buzzed, then released. The electricity abruptly stopped as the anklet fell to the ground, but my body still convulsed. Spit gathered at my mouth as images flashed before my eyes: my brother, Leo, Aden, Angel and Rook... my life blurring together in one super-fast series of snapshots.
I blinked as a face blurred and focused in the flashing lights. Red-rimmed glasses framed by auburn bangs peered into my eyes.
Paris.
It was the last thought I had before blacking out.
\*\*\*
Being chained by Scarlet Steel was incredibly painful, but nothing compared to being electrocuted. And yet, somehow, I was miraculously still alive.
Upon coming to, I found Paris checking my vitals.
"How long..." I tried asking how long I had been unconscious, but my voice gave out.
"Forty-eight hours, more or less," she said, emotionless. "Probably longer if Aden hadn't given you some blood and Dezyre hadn't healed you."
I blinked, a simple motion that had become surprisingly painful. "Dezyre?"
Paris' eyes flashed, and then she turned away, hiding her expression. "You owe her your life."
I was floored. Dezyre hated me, that much I was sure of. I knew she was good at her job, at least, according to the rumors of her wonder-works. But how come they had called her in to save me? Couldn't Paris have handled it?
Stumped, my lids fluttered shut, trying to pull me under again.
From then on, I woke up at odd hours, or maybe I was dreaming, I couldn't tell. Even sleeping hurt. At some point, I thought I felt feather-light lips brush against my forehead and a low, melodic voice whisper "thank you" into my ear.
And all the while, the scent of cloves and cinnamon hung on the air.
After a few more days of drifting in and out of sleep, I was deemed well enough to return to the academy. Aden appeared in the door of my hospital room while I was tying my boots, a smile on his face.
"Hurry up, champ," he said, leaning against the frame. "General Frost wants to see you."
I froze, eyes wide with fear. Was she going to punish me for killing some vampires? I couldn't remember that night very clearly -- I think the electric jolts had fried my memory or something. But I could still feel the bloodlust rising in me as I sought to kill the vampires hurting Mrs. Knight. I had warred with myself for days, knowing I should feel guilty about killing them, but trying to justify my actions by saying they were self-defense.
Maybe I'm no better than the Rogues...
He held up a hand, noticing my expression. "Relax. It's not what you think."
"I hope not, because I really have no desire to play torture chamber with Frost again."
He grimaced as I rose from the bed, and I saw the apology in his eyes. I nodded curtly then looked away, clearing my throat as butterflies rose in my chest. "Do I have to put on the, you know, 'ankle bracelet from hell?'"
Aden's lips twitched in a grim smile. "No, I persuaded Frost it was safe to leave it off."
I let out a sigh. "Good." My stomach flipped at the mention of Frost. "I guess this is kind of like ripping off a Band-aid. Better to make it quick and get it over with."
Aden raised a brow. "Frost as a Band-aid brand," he murmured, turning around. "Somehow, I don't think parents would take well to the skulls and dismembered organs on the bandages, versus cute fluffy bunnies and My Little Ponies."
I giggled, imagining Frost as a spokesperson for children's safety products.
He signed my discharge papers and I followed him out, my stomach still queasy at the thought of facing Frost again.
\*\*\*
I paused outside the ominous black door, on the equally ominous black giant-of-a-building. The thing stretched all the way to the ceiling, by far the tallest structure in the dome. "Ugh... are you sure they don't want to torture me some more?"
Aden had his back to me, punching in a security code. "It's the Council Chambers," he replied as the door opened with a beep, "where the High Council convenes to conduct business affairs for the base, like for instance, the fate of criminals." He glanced back at me with a smirk.
"Haha," I said, following him inside. "I'm definitely the picture of a hardened criminal."
I still felt shaky and a bit weak as we walked, but it was definitely a vast improvement over my condition from a few days ago. At least I wasn't half-dead.
"Who's on the High Council?" I asked.
"Twelve elected officials, all of which are pulled from the community. It's basically our version of a Grand Jury."
Entering the building was like walking into the night itself. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all black, with small white bulbs along the ceiling providing just enough light to see. Though everything looked the same to me, Aden seemed to know where he was going, and I stayed close to his side as we meandered down one hall after the other. He would take sudden turns, seeming to disappear right into the wall before my very eyes, but then he'd poke his head out to look for me and I would realize there was actually a hallway there. The place reminded me a bit of a maze.
Aden finally stopped before a set of black doors, so polished they gleamed like onyx. "Wait here," he said, knocking once before stepping inside.
I fidgeted in the hallway, nervously shifting my weight. I glanced at my ankle. I was incredibly thankful they hadn't replaced the anklet, though I knew that was too good to last. They'd probably cuff me as soon as I got home.
Home. I blinked. Since when did I start thinking of this place as home? Home was above ground, with Leo and the sun and moon and stars. This place wasn't my home.
Was it?
Aden reappeared. "They're ready for you."
I gulped. "Who?"
"The High Council."
My eyes almost bulged out of my head. "I'm going before the High Council?"
Aden nodded. "That was sort of what I implied when I said we were going before the High Council."
"You never explicitly said that," I snapped, blushing. I remembered him telling me about it on the way over, but the thought hadn't really hit home until now. The more I thought of it, the more I was convinced I was in some sort of trouble, possibly even danger. I had killed two vampires, living up to the hunter reputation. Maybe they were going to punish me -- or worse, kill me -- for acting "out-of-line."
Cold sweat washed over me, and I suddenly felt very sick. This was it. I had blown my chance at ever seeing Leo or warning my mother of the impending attack.
I've failed Orion, now I've failed everyone else. I'm so sorry Leo.
"Sloane?"
I looked up, startled. I had forgotten Aden was there, watching me with worry creases around his eyes. "Are you all right?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." I took a deep, steadying breath. "Let's do this."
Aden pushed open the doors, and we stepped inside. The room was huge and circular, with twelve high chairs in a half moon arc toward the front. Men and women I didn't know looked down on me, their faces hard, their eyes scrutinizing. My eyes found Frost sitting at one chair to my right, and I shivered. I scanned the faces of each Council member, from one end to the other. My jaw dropped when I saw who the last member was.
I gawked at Aden. "Your mother is on the High Council?"
"Yes," he said, gesturing for me to be quiet. "Face them and don't speak unless spoken to."
I did as he said, anxiously turning around to face the High Council.
A gavel rang loud in the chamber, signaling for the session to start. Frost stood. "Sloane McAllister?"
My mouth felt dry. "Yes ma'am?"
Her eyes grew impossibly colder. "Do you deny killing two of our own?"
My knees shook, but I kept my face composed. "No ma'am, I do not. It was self-defense."
"I didn't ask what it was! Do you realize the weight of your actions?"
My eyes narrowed. "I certainly hope so, as I don't take death as lightly as some of us seem to."
"Sloane," Aden hissed.
Frost stared at me, a slow smile spreading across her pale lips. "As much as I would love to see your actions as the bloodlust of a vicious hunter, I can only see them as... heroic." She struggled to spit out the last word, and I held my breath, hanging on to her words.
Mrs. Knight stood, looking lovely and fragile but healthy. She wore a turtleneck blouse, hiding the mark on her neck. "You saved my life," she said, smiling with a wince. Her jaw had been re-aligned, though purple bruises splotched her fair skin. "And for that, I will forever be grateful."
"As will I," Aden murmured behind me.
"As reward for your bravery," Frost declared, "your house arrest is to be lifted, and your bonds permanently removed."
I exhaled with a half-laugh, smiling. I couldn't believe this. It was the best stroke of luck I'd had. If they trusted me enough to let me roam freely, then I would have a better shot at finding a way out of here.
I smiled up at them, and Frost raised a brow, looking like she'd swallowed a lemon. "Thank you." I glanced at each of the Council members. "Thank you all so much."
"Don't give us reason to regret our decision," Frost said icily.
I shook my head, saluting her. "Wouldn't dream of it."
The gavel rang again, dismissing us, and I practically skipped out of the room. Once we were in the hallway, Aden was all grins. "Well, I'd say from the week you've had, you could use some fun in your life. Come on. We're celebrating."
I cocked my head. "Don't you think I've missed enough training?"
Aden gave me a look of disbelief. "I'd say you're more qualified to teach the training courses than some of our instructors. One more day won't hurt. And besides --" he gave me a devilish grin -- "you still owe me a date."
I flushed. "I am not going out with you."
He was already starting to walk away. He turned, walking backwards, and held both palms up in a disarming shrug. "Then don't think of it as a date. Just think of it as an outing with a friend."
I didn't reply, shifting my weight.
"Please?" Aden said, stopping. "It's on me."
An outing with a friend. Did I think of Aden as a friend? Did I want to think of him as something more? Mentally, I shook my head. The scars he'd given me would take a long time to fade. But I supposed...
"Fun does sound pretty wonderful, actually," I admitted. When was the last time I had relaxed? Not in a long, long while, not since before my mother had become Sovereign and the world had gone to hell.
Aden smiled, his excitement and joy seeping into me. "I promise you won't regret it."
"Welcome to Paradise," Aden said, opening up the door to the restaurant. The smell of fresh lettuce, melted pepper jack cheese, and cooking hamburger meat invaded my nostrils. I inhaled deeply, and ran my tongue along my lips. My stomach growled as we walked into the burger joint, and I scanned the menu with a smile. "Seriously? Vampires like burgers and fries?" This was the last place I thought I'd find in an underground vampire base.
"Yeah, cheeseburgers are almost as good as humans. Kidding," he added quickly at my look of horror. "We can go somewhere else, if you like..."
"No!"
I laughed when he jumped at my outburst. "I'm really excited, actually. It's been ages since I've had a good, greasy burger. My mother never let me have them back --"
I bit my lip in guilt, on the verge of saying home. Why did I just do that? Pittsburgh is my home, so why should I feel guilty about calling it that?
We ordered, and Aden reached into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet.
"You don't have to get mine," I said. We had set up a bank account upon my enlisting, since I would be getting paid for my training. But they only deposited checks -- or whatever form of currency they used -- at the end of the month, so I hadn't gotten paid yet.
"I'm not going to let you wash dishes," he said, smiling. "Really, it's not going to break the bank, I assure you. Besides, we're celebrating, both for you saving my mom, and for your newfound freedom. Please, it's the least I can do."
I blushed slightly. "Thank you."
"Thank you." Aden pulled out a few of the odd colored bills and something white fluttered to the floor. I reached for it, flipping it over. It was a photograph, fairly old from how worn it looked. Wrinkles from the paper ran down the faces of a man and a woman, who stood on either side of a young boy. Their collective happiness radiated off of them. They practically glowed, a joyous American family against the cheery sunlit park in the backdrop. There was a tear in the photo running almost from one end to the other, nearly severing the man from the woman and child. My eyes remained fixed on the man. He looked familiar, though I couldn't figure out exactly where I had seen him.
"Oh," Aden said, taking the photo from my grasp and placing it back in his wallet. "I must have dropped that."
The image of the woman with the pale, blue eyed child lingered in my memory. "That's you, isn't it? And that woman is your mom."
"Yes," he said quietly, taking two empty glasses from the cashier and walking away.
I walked after him. "Was that your father?"
He stopped at the machine, sighing as ice cubes clinked into our glasses. "Yes."
I watched him, chewing on my lip and unable to stop myself from asking, "What happened to him?"
Aden's shoulders hunched up, and I was afraid I had asked the wrong question, that I'd pried too far. But a moment later, he turned around, smiling warmly. "I'll save you the whole tragic story. After all, this is a celebration. Pepsi?"
I blinked. "Uh, yeah, sure."
He filled up my glass and I rubbed my arms, thinking about what he'd said. Mrs. Knight and Aden seemed so happy, perfectly content at being together. What tragedy could he be running from in his past?
After filling up our glasses with soda, we sat down at a booth to wait for our food.
Sitting there with him -- alone, I might add -- made me suddenly feel very self-conscious. I fiddled with my hair, which was pulled back in a flabby ponytail.
This is not a date, I told myself for at least the tenth time. Chill out already.
Then again, how would I know? I had never actually been on a date. It's not that no one had ever been interested. I never had a problem being asked to dances or parties, but I was so focused on my grades I didn't want to have any distractions.
Aden leaned forward, pointing to one of the cashiers. "See that guy, the one that looks like Shaggy off of Scooby-Doo?"
I glanced at the counter, sipping on my Pepsi. "What about him?"
"I've played a few gigs with him. Believe it or not, there are guns beneath the baggy sweatshirt. He's a killer drummer."
My eyes swiveled back to the bar; the "guy with guns" looked no bigger around than a toothpick. "If you say so," I said, not sounding very convinced. I turned my attention back to Aden. "You're a musician?"
He shrugged. "I like to play bass guitar in a small cover band for fun. Just every now and then, you know, for parties and events. You have to loosen up somehow, especially down here."
I lifted my brows, a bit surprised. "Cool," I said lamely. "According to my brother, I'm tone deaf. I like to sing in the shower."
"I never hear you sing."
"Trust me, it's better that way."
A waitress scurried up to the table and dropped off our plates, piled high with steaming French fries and the biggest cheeseburger I'd ever seen. I had opted for the spicier version, putting jalapeños, spicy mustard, and pepper jack cheese on mine. I lifted it to my face and took a huge bite. Flavors sizzled on my tongue, almost a little too hot, but it was every bit a "dream burger."
We ate in silence for a minute or two. Aden, who had a black hole for a stomach, was nearly finished with his entrée. He had stopped mid-bite to pick at a bandage on the inner part of his elbow.
"Do you give blood or something?" I asked. "That's the second time I've seen you with a bandage." The first time was at the hospital, along with the one he had wrapped around his Scarlet Steel wound. Looking at his hand now, you couldn't even tell the flesh had nearly been eroded away by the corrosive properties of the steel. All that remained was a patch of flesh that was shinier and slightly lighter than the skin around it. If I didn't have vampire vision, I'm not even sure I'd have noticed it at all.
Aden immediately stopped fiddling with the bandage. "Yeah, something like that." He didn't elaborate, instead stuffing one last handful of fries into his mouth.
I cringed at the thought of giving blood. Last time I'd done so, I'd nearly blacked out. When I was about ten, my father thought I had mono and took me to the doctor. After the nurse had drawn a blood sample, I spent the rest of the visit with my head between my legs, breathing into a paper bag. It made me a little pale just thinking about it.
"So," I said, desperately wanting to talk about anything else, "are there more vampires living underground in other places, or is this pretty much it?"
Aden wiped his mouth, not looking me in the eyes. "There's a city," he said reluctantly.
I sat up straighter. "What kind of city?"
He looked up, eyes secretive and pensive. "The City of the Dead, named so because we might as well be dead to the rest of the world. It's basically a cluster-thing of every civilization known to man, with different epochs stacked upon each other like junk piles."
I tried to imagine this, reminders of Ancient Rome sitting alongside modern day Brooklyn. "Are there roads and cars? What about businesses?"
"No cars," Aden said. "It's a bit of a chaotic, dangerous mess, though the Emperor is trying to clean things up somewhat."
"You have an Emperor?"
He squeezed the napkin in his hand, his eyes turning hard. "And a uniform currency called Krillion. It's monetary worth is somewhere between the British pound and the American dollar."
Though I found this fascinating, I wasn't about to let him change the subject. "What's the Emperor's name?"
Aden pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Nero," he said at last.
"You mean like the Roman Emperor? The one who was supposedly possessed?"
He nodded. "Not bad, McAllister. I wouldn't have picked you one for Greek and Roman history."
"Actually, I kind of dig horror movies. I used to watch the History Channel a lot," I said, somewhat sheepishly. "Around Halloween, they'd broadcast programs on spookier things, like demonic possession."
"And do you believe in it?"
I chewed on my lip, thinking. "If vampires exist, then why can't demons?"
I wondered how Nero had risen to power, and what kind of a leader he was. Judging from Aden's stony expression, he didn't seem to be very popular, at least not with him.
We left the restaurant, and after repeated refusals to let me pay him back I dropped the subject.
"Quit being so stubborn and just let me treat you out," Aden said, lightly elbowing me as we walked down the street. "You having a good time is payment enough for me."
I pursed my lips, fighting the urge to smile. "Thanks," I said softly. I started to walk in the direction of his apartment.
"Where are you going?" Aden asked.
"Um, home?"
He grinned. "Not yet. I have one more surprise for you."
\*\*\*
The arcade glittered with flashing lights and the air danced with the bubbling laughter of children. My face lit up as we walked in. Rows upon rows of old school games -- from pinball machines, to 80's role-playing adventures -- were laid out on either side of us. The air smelled of candy and hot dogs, of careless pleasures and a near forgotten era.
My face mirrored that of a kid facing a Christmas tree surrounded by presents. "This is amazing."
Aden laughed. "I had a feeling you'd appreciate it."
"I worship it."
A familiar piece of cover art caught my eye. I scanned the game's title and nearly squealed with delight. "Gauntlet? Are you serious?"
"You've played it before?" Aden asked with surprise.
"Are you kidding me?" I laughed, running up to the machine and gliding my fingers over the controls. "I used to play this all the time. When we were little, my dad would take my brother and me to the arcade at the mall. I must have blown a hundred dollars in quarters on this thing."
Aden looked impressed. "Awesome. Then what are we waiting for? Let's go get our quest on."
I snorted as he pulled out a small change bag filled with coins. "No Krillions?" I asked as he deposited them.
"Nope. Just the good ol' American quarter." He settled in beside me and started to explain the controllers' functions. "The symbols on the keypad all mean different things --"
"It's all right," I said. "I've played before, remember?"
He gave me an appraising look. "All right then, McAllister, let's see what you're made of."
The machine was so old that it took a few minutes for the game to load, but once we got rolling, we didn't stop. I laughed, feeling like a little kid again, and we made up jokes and goofy storylines for our characters as the game went on. A whole hour flew by before we stopped.
"Man, that was awesome!" I stepped back and stretched my arms above my head. "It's been a while since I've played any video games."
"It didn't show," he said, also stretching. "You totally kicked ass."
I gazed at him, smiling shyly. "I like you like this."
He turned toward me, gazing down on me with a small smile of his own. "Like what?"
I shrugged, staring back at him. "As Aden and not Captain Knight."
He took a step forward, so close now I had to tilt my chin slightly to look him in the eyes. "I don't know what it is about you. I can just be myself around you, and not worry about what other people will think."
My heart beat faster as he searched my eyes, his jaw clenching with indecision. "Sloane, there's something..."
I felt it as his voice trailed off, the inkling of dark thoughts, almost like Spiderman's "spider-sense."
Aden looked past my shoulder, and his face twisted in fear. Slowly, I turned around in enough time to see a man wearing all black raise a gun directly at us.
Aden shoved me hard to the ground as the shot rang out, and I heard the whiz of the bullet as it flew by, right where my heart had been only seconds earlier. We both fell to the ground as people began screaming and scrambling to get out of the way of the shooter, who was aiming to take another shot.
Aden was on his feet in an instant. "Let's go!" he yelled, pulling me up. I was running before my shock could take hold, hearing another shot and then another as we ran.
More shots boomed, shattering machines in a shower of sparks and broken glass as we ran behind them.
"What's going on?" I yelled.
"They've come for you!" Aden shouted. "We have to get the hell out of here!"
What? Who's "they?" What is he talking about?
We pushed against the wild crowd, finally slipping into a hallway labeled as an exit. We raced down the hall, heavy footsteps close behind. I screamed as another shot was fired, echoing off the walls. A red laser beam chased our frenzied path, trying to lock on us. The next time the gun fired, it sounded much closer. A burning sensation ripped through my left shoulder -- a familiar, excruciating white hot fire -- and I slammed into a wall, right on the wound. Pain blossomed through my shoulder blade and down my arm, and I had to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out.
Aden swore, pulling up short and sniffing the air. "Scarlet Steel bullets," he hissed. "Can you walk?"
I nodded, clutching at my throbbing shoulder. When I pulled my hand back, it was slick with bloody flecks of burnt skin. I paled and staggered, suddenly lightheaded.
Aden stared at my hand, running his tongue over his lips. His eyes began turning red, but he shook his head and they cleared back to blue. He put my good arm across his shoulder, holding me up. "We have to keep moving. Just stay awake."
"'Just stay awake.' Got it." I squeezed my eyes shut as we started to move again, forcing down my panic and dizziness. Voices gathered behind us and my adrenaline kicked in, numbing the pain somewhat and sharpening my focus on staying alive.
Aden kicked the exit door open and hauled me outside. We stumbled into a deserted alleyway. The man in black was gone, presumably still inside the arcade, but I could hear other voices and footsteps on the other side of the structure as more gunmen thundered after us. Sirens wailed in the distance. "By the time security gets here, they could've caught up to us," Aden said. "We need to hide."
We had just hobbled to the main street when Aden looked over his shoulder to see if we were being followed. He swore loudly and doubled our pace.
"What is it?" I asked.
"They found us."
My heart nearly leaped out of my throat. "What do you think they'll do if they catch us?"
"They won't," he said fiercely. "Not while I'm your guardian."
We cleared the alley and he shoved me against a wall, cupping my face in his hands. "I want you to run," he said, breathing hard. He pointed to my right. "If you keep following this road, you'll find the mausoleum. Go inside and wait for me."
Questions burned on my tongue. Who were these people? Why were they trying to kill me? Maybe Frost was bitter about the decision to set me free and wanted to punish me, vigilante style.
"What about you?"
His eyes turned dangerous and his voice dropped to a growl. "I'm going to fend them off while you run."
I tried to shake my head, but clenched my teeth when my neck and shoulder burned with renewed pain. "I can stay. I can fight."
"No, not like this you can't."
"Aden, I'm not letting you --"
His mouth was on mine before I could finish the sentence. I had never been kissed. Sure, you read about in stories, see it in the movies. But actually feeling, experiencing it, was a totally different thing altogether.
I closed my eyes, giving in for a brief moment as his lips crushed against mine, smoldering, burning passion pouring through the connection that had formed between us. When he pulled back, we were both breathless. We stared at each other, not entirely sure what had just happened, or what it meant.
"Go," Aden said, stepping away. His gaze lingered on me before he turned and disappeared back into the alley. A moment later, I heard more shots and cries of pain as a battle ensued. I looked around the corner as Aden's fist connected with a man's face. Blood spurted from his nose as he sailed backward into the wall, dropping his gun. Aden was nothing more than a deadly shadow as he took the gun and shot two men as they came out of the exit. He spun around, kicking a man in the chest as he came at him. The man fell back, banging his head against the wall and slumping to the ground. Aden caught sight of me.
"Go!" he yelled.
I hesitated, warring with the fighter inside who wanted to help, and the part of me that said I should run. Logic won out, and taking one last look at Aden, I began running as fast I could manage down the path he had shown me, the feel of his kiss still lingering on my lips.
I was breathless and hurting more than ever by the time I reached the mausoleum. I almost missed it, a somewhat small white marble structure sitting off by itself, surrounded by a sentinel of plastic rosebushes and a handful of cross markers sticking out of the synthetic grass, the only "greenery" I had seen here. I looked around. As far as I could tell, no one had followed me. My thoughts drifted to Aden, who was fighting for our lives back in the alley.
Please don't be dead, please don't be dead, I thought over and over as I gingerly walked up the steps. Though my arm throbbed relentlessly, my earlier dizziness was beginning to pass.
I flung open the door and closed it behind me once I was inside. A ceiling light flickered to life, casting an eerie yellow light on the tombs around me. I'd guess the building was about 500 square feet, with about twenty or so tombs stacked all the way to the ceiling. Cobwebs hung in the corners, but other than that the place looked well maintained.
I plopped down on a tomb that jutted out from the others, knowing I should feel ashamed to sit on someone's grave, but I was in too much pain to really care. My fingers brushed the epitaph as I leaned back, throwing a shadow over the grave. Squinting, I peered at the message. "We walk in darkness so we may dance in the light," I read aloud. It didn't list any dates or names. In the center was a carving of an angel. He/she -- I couldn't tell -- was rising out of the ground, reaching for Heaven.
I stared at it, wondering why they had chosen this symbol, when a hand covered my mouth and I choked on a scream.
"Ssh," Aden whispered into my ear. "It's just me. Did anyone see you?"
Heart racing a mile a minute, I took a steadying breath. "No, I don't think so."
"Good." Blood splattered his face, but he appeared unharmed. There wasn't so much as a bruise or scrape to show for his battle. "Here, stand up a minute. We need to open this and get inside."
He gently helped me to my feet and began pulling back the heavy marble lid. It slid to the side. Dust and the smell of the earth floated up from the gaping black hole.
My brows furrowed. Strange... it's not just a hollow stone box. Does this tomb connect all the way to the ground?
Aden motioned me over. "We need to hurry. I held them off, but there are more on the way, and I know one of them spotted me as I was leaving."
I stared at the hole, images of being buried alive running through my head. "I'm not going in there."
"If you want to live, you are."
Gritting my teeth, I walked to the open tomb and sat on the edge of the hole. "There's a ladder right in front of you," he said. "Just go down and I'll be right behind you, soon as I close the lid."
Uneasy, I did as he instructed, lowering myself onto the ladder and into the ground. It was somewhat of a struggle descending with one hand. I kept my injured arm as close to my body as possible, trying not to rattle it.
At last, my boot hit soft earth and I let go, stumbling into an earthen wall. The air was cooler here, fresher. Light spilled from the opening for a few seconds before Aden closed the lid and we were submerged in total darkness.
I felt along the wall, my energy leaving me as I slid to the floor, collapsing on my good side. A moment later, I heard a match strike, and Aden lifted a gas lamp to my face. My eyes fluttered closed as fabric tore and I was rolled on my back.
"Hang on, Sloane," Aden said, sounding far away. "I'm going to get the bullet out."
Normally, I would have blanched at the thought, but my entire body felt numb and very cold. I vaguely registered someone was digging around in my shoulder right before there was a sharp pain and then nothing. Pressure was applied to my arm, followed by a jerk as Aden tied off the tourniquet. Propping my head up on his knees, he dribbled something warm and sweet into my mouth.
"Drink." He sounded scared. "Please drink, Sloane."
As the blood drained into my throat, I found a sliver of strength and latched on to his wrist. A feeling of déjà vu washed over me as I once again drank from the vampire that had created me.
He let me drink for a minute or two before pulling away his arm. I lay there panting as my strength returned. Aden sighed as I opened my eyes, relief washing over his face. He brushed back a strand of my hair, which was plastered to my forehead. "Did I almost die?" I rasped.
"If I'd left the bullet in, you could have, though it would've been a much slower death."
I shivered. "You saved my life again."
A strange shadow passed over Aden's eyes before the mausoleum door opened above us and both our eyes snapped to the ceiling.
We froze, listening intently as footsteps stalked over our heads. "How far below are we?" I whispered.
"About six feet under."
I smacked his arm. "Smartass."
"Sorry, couldn't resist. We're actually only about twenty feet or so." He wrapped his arm around me and I blushed, unable to control the rapid fluttering in my chest. "I'm going to move you to the wall, okay? Just in case they find us, and I need to protect the entrance."
My legs didn't shake quite as much as he walked me over to the wall and I sat down, though I was still a bit weakened from the bullet. "What are the chances of that happening?" I asked as he went to stand by the ladder.
He ran a hand over the rungs. "Slim to none. No one knows of this hideout save for myself and a handful of others."
"Like Paris. Or Angel and Rook. Your mom." I ran names off of my tongue, feeling surer of my guesses when he gave me a look that said, "I'm not saying, but you're right anyway."
"Perhaps," he said wistfully.
I looked behind me and frowned. Were my eyes playing tricks on me, or did the darkness branch out into more tunnels?
"Where do these tunnels lead?"
Aden tensed. "They run below the base and the city," he said carefully, though I could tell there was more.
I let the thought sink in for a minute before my eyes widened in stark realization. "These tunnels lead to the surface, don't they?"
"Ssh!" He clamped a hand over my mouth as the ground shifted under the weight of several walking bodies, their voices muffled through the dirt. I listened closer, locking on to two voices in particular, one obviously younger than the other.
"He won't be happy," the younger voice said. "Should we keep looking?"
"Nah, it doesn't matter. We have what we came for. Let's go."
We both froze, not even daring to breathe, as we listened intently for any sign that they'd found us. It seemed like an eternity passed before all was silent again.
We both let out long breaths. "Who were they?"
Aden's eyes narrowed. "Imperial guards... I think..."
I blinked. "The Emperor sent those guys to kill me?"
"So it would appear," he murmured, rubbing his chin.
"Why? Is it because I'm a hunter?"
"I don't know." He turned away, dismissing me.
I narrowed my eyes, my frustration and exhaustion boiling to the surface. "Judging from the look on your face, you obviously do. Someone just tried to kill me. I think I have every right to know what the hell's really going on."
"It's not safe to stay here."
I gawked at him as he rose and began climbing the ladder. "Did you even hear a word I said?"
"I heard you."
"Then why can't you tell me?!"
"Because the less you know, the better off you'll be!" He cast me a fiery glare and shook his head, sadness in his eyes. "Some truths aren't worth the price of knowing."
What's that supposed to mean? Does he think I can't handle it?
I remembered Angel's insistence that Aden really was looking out for my best interests. That may be so, but right now I was angrier with him than I'd ever been at anyone else in my entire life.
I looked back at the tunnels. One of them had to lead home. I just had to figure out which one. I needed a map.
Angel.
With a plan already forming in my head -- along with a firmer resolve to go home -- I climbed the ladder after Aden, back into a life I was running from only moments ago.
\*\*\*
Once we were above ground, Aden wasted no time.
"Where are we going?" I asked, running at a dead sprint to keep up with him. With the bullet gone and some of Aden's blood in me, I felt almost back to normal, though extremely tired from fighting the acid.
"I'm taking you somewhere safe. You're going to stay with a friend, until I can find out exactly who they were and what they were doing here."
I stared at him, fighting the growing realization I really knew nothing about this beautiful stranger in front of me. Aden had seemed as surprised by the attack as I was, but I was beginning to question just how much he truly knew about what was going on. Whatever secret he guarded must be big, enough so to kill for. On the upside, I now knew how to get back to the surface, or at least, I had a rough idea. Now I just had to figure out a plan for getting there.
When I had lived in the White Sector, I thought my life was as surreal as it could be, but this whole experience had put things into perspective for me. I'd gladly take back my human life; it seemed so normal in comparison.
We eventually slowed our pace in another housing quad. Most of the lights were out, and Aden walked straight up to the last apartment and knocked loudly on the door.
A few seconds later, a light flicked on and the front door opened. My stomach immediately dropped to my feet when I saw who it was.
"Oh, hell no," I said. "I've just been shot. I don't need to be tortured, too."
Paris De Lange regarded me with equal distaste. She had clearly just rolled out of bed. Her normally immaculately styled hair was twined into a disheveled braid, and a plush burgundy sleeping mask rested above her hairline. I briefly wondered what time it was, not thinking it to be late enough to sleep yet. Then again, Paris was a doctor, so she probably kept weird sleeping habits.
Paris wrapped her scarlet silk robe tighter around her, her sharp eyes snapping to my wound. She sniffed the air and hissed. "More Scarlet Steel? What the hell happened now?"
"We were attacked, at the arcade," Aden said as he pulled me inside. I looked around. It was neatly furnished, with modern looking furniture and wall art. A black leather couch sat beside the door, and I plopped down on it as Aden turned to face Paris.
"Was it Frost?" Paris asked. "I heard about the ruling."
"No." Aden's face was grim. "It looked like Imperial guards."
Paris gasped softly. "Do you think he knows?"
"For all our sakes, I hope not."
"What are you talking about?" I demanded. "Am I in some sort of danger?"
Aden and Paris turned to me, as if noticing I was there for the first time. "Probably more radicals," Paris said, waving away the notion. "The Blood Brotherhood has always been extreme in their demonstrations. I wouldn't be too concerned. Aden will get to the bottom of it, I am sure."
I remembered opening the door that night to find the group of red robed men standing before me, branding Mrs. Knight as a traitor to her race. "It wasn't radicals, though, was it? You're hiding something, both of you."
"I need to go," Aden said, stepping around Paris. "I'll be in touch as soon as I know something." He looked back at me one last time before closing the door behind him.
I stared after him. What were they not telling me? What precious secret were they trying to keep hidden?
Paris crossed her arms and looked me over. "Aden has his hands full being your guardian, an appropriate punishment on Frost's account." She sighed irritably and motioned for me to follow her. "Come, come. Let's get that arm stitched up."
The hallway was full of framed photographs, most of which were Paris and a handsome, dark haired man. She looked different, happier.
We settled in the kitchen, me at the table while Paris stood at the counter, sterilizing a needle. I squeezed my eyes closed, my skin all of sudden clammy as the image of the needle rooted itself in my mind. There was the strong smell of antiseptic before Paris plunked down a small glass of red liquid beside me. "Drink this. It'll help."
I sniffed the liquid. It didn't look like blood, so I took a sip. The bittersweet wine flowed along my tongue and down my throat. I didn't mind wine. I'd had it before at my Mom's Christmas parties. Even after Orion died, she had still thrown extravagant parties after becoming Sovereign.
She didn't have time to mourn, not with so many important people to impress.
The wine was laced with blood. I could taste it the moment it hit my tongue, and I wondered whose it was. My nerves loosened up the more I drank, and I felt my mind begin to freely probe Paris' thoughts and emotions as glamour leaked out of me. Paris removed the tourniquet and applied antiseptic, wiping away the dried blood so she could get a clear view of the wound. It stung a little, but for the most part I felt blissfully numb.
She didn't tell me when she started stitching, which was probably wise on her part. There was a prick and I tried to focus on something else. All along the walls of the kitchen were more photos of her and the handsome man.
"Who is he?"
She paused, following my gaze. Her face warmed, and I latched on to the feelings of love and affection pouring through me. I had become good at using glamour, thanks to Angel's meditation tip. I could practically control it on a whim now. Almost subconsciously, I reached out with my glamour, coaxing her to tell me. Gradually, I felt the walls around Paris' mind and heart start to crumble. "My husband... my Emile," she said with a sad, wistful smile. "I keep photos of him around so I won't forget him."
I shivered. The way she said his name -- kind of breathy, combined with her accent -- made it sound so... romantic.
"Where is he?" None of my business, I know, but the wine was making me a tad bolder than normal.
She trembled slightly, her voice barely audible. "He's dead."
I paused mid-sip. "I'm so sorry." I might not like Paris very much, but I wouldn't wish the death of a spouse on anyone.
As she sewed, her eyes misted over, glamour freely pouring out of me and pulling the past from her. "We met at medical school, in Paris, my home city." A warm glow lit up her face. "It was love at first sight. We courted for only a few months before we were engaged, later eloping because we were so eager to be married."
I listened in silence, enthralled. "On our wedding night," Paris continued, "he told me what he truly was -- a vampire." She paused with a wicked smile. "He asked me to join him, and I said yes without hesitation. He changed me that night, and taught me how to live amongst humans, how to behave civilly and not as a monster. We were very happy."
She swallowed hard. "He was killed by vampire hunters on our one year anniversary. He pushed me out of the way, taking the bullets that were meant for me. I tried to save him, but it was too late. He died in my arms on the very spot where he proposed to me."
I felt like a lead weight had been dropped in my stomach. No wonder she hated me. I was guilty by association, so to speak. I was a hunter, just like the ones who had killed the love of her life. I wanted to say "sorry" again, but it seemed inadequate. Instead, I placed my good hand over hers and squeezed.
Poor Paris.
She gave me a small, tight smile, and pulled her hand free to brush away a tear. Tense silence filled the small space between us as she finished stitching up my arm. I laid my head against my good arm -- which was draped across the table -- and closed my eyes, exhaustion threatening to take me under.
Paris went to the sink and washed out the glass, storing away her medical supplies. "Let's get you to the couch before you fall asleep at my kitchen table."
Drowsy from the wine, I staggered to my feet and managed to follow her into the living room before settling onto the couch. In a more motherly manner than I would have guessed possible from her, Paris removed my boots and brought me a fluffy pillow and a blanket. She disappeared into the kitchen and came back a moment later with two red pills and a half glass of water. "For the pain," she said, holding them out to me.
I took the pills and downed them with the water, handing her the empty glass. Before I could even say "thank you," I was fast asleep.
\*\*\*
Something woke me up, a rustling in the dead of night. Groggily, I pried my eyes open enough to see Paris standing by the door, pulling on a jacket. Rose scented perfume wafted toward me. Her hair had been combed and secured with a clip, her eyes alert and...
I tasted it, the acidity of fear and anxiety. Now that I was starting to wake up, I noticed how truly uneasy she looked.
Where is she going? Did Aden call? It must be two or three in the morning. Maybe someone got hurt, and she's been summoned to the hospital.
When Paris started to glance my way, I hastily snapped my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. A moment later, the door opened and gently clicked shut. I listened to Paris' footsteps as she walked away before throwing aside the blanket and quickly pulling on my boots. The blood-laced wine had helped immensely, and my shoulder didn't seem nearly so sore with the pain killers.
Riding a hunch I couldn't deny, I opened the door and quietly let myself out.
If they won't give me any answers, then I'll have to sleuth some out for myself.
I paused. Damn! I forgot about the tracking chip.
Would Frost be watching me? Though my probation had been lifted, someone could still be keeping tabs.
Paris' footsteps were growing more distant.
It's now or never.
Making up my mind, I picked up the faint trail of rose perfume, using it to guide me as I followed Paris into the night.
The base was still as I wove through the buildings, blindly following Paris to who-knew-where. Though my wiser side chided me, telling me I should go back while I could, my desire for answers won out, and I pressed on.
I didn't recognize this part of the base. Then again, I'm sure there were many areas I hadn't explored, leading me to suspect the base must run farther than I originally thought. Buildings so tall they reached the ceiling rose on either side of me, and the alley I now crept through was a dark, narrow corridor.
Fabulous, my mind said. You've just been shot. Lurking down a dark alley alone is exactly what you need to be doing.
Shut up! I told my conscious.
The alley seemed to go on forever, and with no lighting it was near impossible to tell when it would end. As I walked, the air shifted, growing colder. Paris' rose perfume was lost to an undercurrent of something stronger that burned my nose, like a chemical.
I was so focused on not making a sound that I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going. If I hadn't first heard Paris go down the steps, I probably would have fallen down them, ruining my cover. I ran a hand along the wall until I felt the edge of the alley. I paused, feeling with my boot for the first step. Once I had my foot firmly planted, I slowly descended.
My ability to see in the dark seemed to be improving the more I used my sight at night. Now that I knew it was there, I could see the stairwell clearly, and beyond that a single, shabby door, which was slightly cracked open. The chemical scent grew stronger the closer I drew to the entrance.
I knew this scent from somewhere. Not all of my memories had come back, thanks to the amnesia brought on by vampirism, but one drifted out of the fog now. It was me, walking down the biology wing in my high school. The previous class had been dissecting frogs, making the entire hall smell like --
Formaldehyde. That's what the smell is, I'm sure of it.
But that wasn't all. Something musky, like moldy mushrooms, hung under it. I'm not sure I would have noticed it at all if I hadn't been a vampire.
I paused by the door, peering through the crack. White bulb lights hung from the ceiling, lighting the hallway in patches. I didn't see Paris, or anyone else, so I carefully let myself in, making sure to leave the door cracked like I'd found it.
My ears popped. There was some kind of a hollow, vacuum feel to the air down here. The hallway was all gray cinderblock and was lined with black doors. A few feet in front of me, the concrete floor turned into a small staircase, leading up to a second landing that was level with my eyes.
I was almost to the staircase when footsteps echoed off the walls, coming closer at a rapid pace.
Panicked, I quickly tried the handle on one of the doors. Locked. I went to the next. Also locked. I went down the whole row of doors, each locked, before one finally opened and I ducked inside, shutting the door behind me.
It was dark, and the smell of formaldehyde and decay was so strong in here I nearly gagged. I bumped into something cold and metallic, like a table. Running my hand along the wall, I found a switch and flicked it on. Slowly, the single bulb in the center of the ceiling came to life, illuminating the source of the smell.
I nearly screamed.
There, stretched out on several tables that filled the small room to capacity, were at least a dozen dead bodies. White, blood stained sheets covered them all from the waist down, and their hands hung limp as they stared at the ceiling with cold, dead eyes.
I looked around me in horror. Had I run into some kind of a morgue? What was Paris doing in a place like this?
Swallowing bile, I forced myself closer to the tables. Some of the bodies had dotted lines drawn on them while others had networks of incisions that made me weak at the knees. But there was one thing they all had in common.
They're all human.
Not a single one of them had a telekinetic signature. Were the vampires harvesting their blood? Scenes from War of the Worlds flashed through my head, where the humans were used as livestock and fertilizer for the aliens. It made me sick, despite the well-known truth that vampires fed off humans. Seeing all the dead people spread out around me really made that fact strike home.
A chart had been left on one of the tables. Gritting my teeth, I carefully leaned over a body -- praying I didn't fall on top of it -- and snatched up the chart. Notes too messy for me to read were scribbled across its pages, though I made out two words in perfect clarity: "test subject."
A cold shiver rolled through me. Were they using these people in some sort of experiment?
What the hell's going on down here?
A voice outside the door made me jump. It had a French accent.
Paris.
I had been so distracted that I hadn't heard her walk up. Not seeing any better options, I crawled under one of the tables, thankful the sheets reached the floor.
Paris' voice was muffled through the door, but not so much I couldn't hear her say, "We're right on schedule."
A deep rumbling answered her, a man. But there was something odd about his voice, like his vocal chords or throat had been damaged, hindering his speech ability. I strained, trying to make out what he was saying but with no luck. A scent drifted from beneath the door, something familiar and forgotten.
Cinnamon and cloves... the same scent I've smelled on Aden.
I reached out with my glamour, trying to figure out who the man was. Though I could tell he was a vampire, I couldn't find anything else, not even a stray thought or any real emotions. He was simply... empty.
I thought of Aden, how he had kissed me so passionately, like it was the last thing he'd ever do. Was he somehow in league with this man, the man who smelled of spices? And who was he, for that matter? What were he and Paris doing in the dead of night in a building housing a lab full of dead people?
The eerie possibility that Paris could be the one trying to kill me crossed my mind, but I quickly debunked it. If she had wanted to kill me, she would have already done so, as she'd had plenty of opportunities.
My leg was starting to fall asleep, and I tried shifting my weight. The table shuddered, and a second later a scalpel clattered to the floor. I tensed, silently swearing.
The man paused, and panic rose in my throat. Through my fear, I picked up one of Paris' stray thoughts, something about the light.
Crap! I left the light on!
She must have been in here recently, and if she had turned the light off, she would definitely know someone else had been in here. I hoped the smells riding the air would be enough to mask my scent, and prayed Paris and the man would stay outside.
I felt a sliver of cold emotion from the man -- suspicion -- before Paris said, "I probably set something too close to the edge of a table and it fell off. Who else could it be? The dead?"
She laughed uneasily as they walked away, and I waited for the sound of their voices to die off before crawling out of my hiding spot.
I didn't know what was going on, but something told me I had stumbled into a place I was never meant to see.
I shook my leg out as it tingled back to life, and limped over to the door, pressing my ear against it. Sweet silence beckoned me forward and I grasped the knob, turning it.
Fear gripped my throat.
It was locked.
I pushed down the first strands of panic as I looked around the room, weighing my options. I could wait for someone to come in and glamour them, but I didn't know how far I'd make it before I was caught. And if that happened, surely they'd kill me.
Or...
Think, Sloane.
I anxiously scanned the room. There had to be something here I could use to pick the lock. My eyes roved past a body, doing a double take.
It was the little girl I had tried to rescue from the cells, the day I discovered glamour.
Seeing her there, I felt incredibly guilty. So much had happened the past few days, I had completely forgotten about her. Sadness welled up in me as I stared at her lifeless face, remembering the warmth of her body pressing close to mine as we tried to find a way out of the base. But it hadn't been enough -- I couldn't save her in the end.
I walked up to her, my chest heavy with regret, and brushed back the bangs from her closed eyes. "I'm so sorry," I whispered. My fingers touched something cold and metallic; a shiny bobby pin was holding her hair back.
I bit my lip, glancing at her face again. Part of me felt guilty as I reached over and pulled the pin from her hair, my fingers brushing her cold skin, like I was again cheating death on her account. If I could've traded places with that little girl, I gladly would have, but she was gone. Her parents would never see her again, and I had let her walk back into Death's clutches.
I closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths, which made me a little dizzy from the fumes. It's not your fault. You didn't know, couldn't have known. It's not your fault...
I saw my brother's face. Just like his death wasn't your fault. Orion would want you to live. So would Dad. You have to fight, for them.
Resolved, I raced to the door and knelt, inserting the bobby pin into the keyhole.
Once my mother had become Sovereign, she placed all kinds of etiquette rules and restrictions on me. When she saw I wasn't living up to her expectations -- meaning, I wasn't kissing the asses of every visiting politician who came through our house -- she would lock me in my room until the meeting was over. But it never stopped me. I always kept a bobby pin handy, twisting it into a makeshift key so I could use it to escape.
With practiced hands, I felt around until I heard the bolt click, and the door slid open with a whoosh. Exhaling a huge breath, I put the bobby pin into my pocket and looked outside. The hallway was empty.
Every muscle in my body was coiled into a tight knot as I snuck out of the room and crept toward the exit. A cart rattled somewhere to my right and I backtracked, ducking down another hallway as two people in bulbous white hazard suits rolled past with a stretcher, its victim covered by a white sheet. The person's arm hung over the side, the hand visible beneath the edge of the sheet. Blood dripped from the corpse's pale fingertips, leaving a trail. The two workers stopped at the room I had just come from, lifting the body and carrying it inside.
I swallowed hard and sagged against the wall. My head rolled to the right, and I noticed an open door. The light from the hall spilled inside, illuminating several filing cabinets.
You should get out of here while you still can, my mind said.
Squeezing my lips together, I took a deep breath and walked into the office. I found a light switch and a thin book, which I used to prop open the door in case it was also locked. The room was large, and was laid out a bit like a library, with different sections in alphabetical order. Several rows of filing cabinets spread out before me.
I knew it was incredibly stupid, but the temptation to learn something was too great.
If I'm going to find any answers, it'll be here.
I walked down a row of metal cabinets. They were all labeled, some by month and year. I paused, my eyes glued to the label in front of me.
It was October, three years ago.
The exact same month Orion died.
I had to be quick. Glancing back at the door, I knelt and tugged on the drawer. Yellow file folders peered back at me, though they appeared to be in no particular order. Newspaper clippings about the Eclipse and biochemical warfare were stuffed haphazardly next to medical charts for people I didn't know, along with more messy notes. Judging from the dates written on the files, the vampires had been experimenting on people for a while now.
But what for? What were they trying to gain from this? If not to harvest their blood, then what use were the humans?
A photograph of each test subject was paper clipped onto his or her chart. I flipped through them, not seeing how it could all be linked, when my eyes froze on the bright smile of a boy from my memory.
Orion.
I stared at his sophomore portrait, shocked to see him, before pulling the file and flipping through it.
Why do they have a file on my brother?
My eyes scanned a page. I could make out his name, but the rest of the handwriting was illegible, save for a few words that stuck out: "mutilated corpse," "blood testing," a few notes about his high IQ, and his estimated birth and death dates. With growing confusion, I flipped the page, coming to what appeared to be a record of blood tests. The dates of the experiments had been scrawled at different parts of the page, about ten total. I frowned when I read the last one.
It was dated three days ago.
"What the hell?" I whispered, furrowing my brows.
Beside the date was a note and I squinted to make it out: "Level of infection is twice as fast as the bubonic plague. No known cure."
The new information swirling in my head began piecing itself together. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, and I swayed, splaying a hand on the floor to catch myself. The articles on biochemical warfare, the Mark of the Creator, the secret lab full of dead human bodies...
"Oh my God," I breathed. "They're not just planning on fighting back against the human race. They're planning to annihilate them with a chemical weapon."
And my brother's blood held the key.
My mind reeled. No wonder Aden had been so keen on turning me. They wanted to use me -- my blood -- as a weapon.
No, my heart argued. Aden wouldn't do that to you.
I paused, thinking. Would he? I didn't know anything about him; he kept his past so well-guarded. What if he had been lying to me all along? My heart sank a little, a feeling which I tried very hard to ignore.
Maybe that's all I am to him, a pawn on his chess board.
And what about Paris, who Aden trusted so dearly? She was obviously in on this, in league with whoever the Spice Man was. A man I suspected Aden was also involved with.
My head spun and I shoved the file back in the drawer, rising more confused than ever. I wanted to kick something. Wasn't there anyone I could trust down here?
Either way, I had to get out. More than ever, I had to get to the surface to warn everyone before it was too late. The humans could kill me if they found out what I was. I knew McGuiness wouldn't hesitate. He'd probably make it a public execution, if he could. But I could never live with myself if Leo -- or even my mother, despite our differences -- died and I hadn't done a damn thing to stop it.
I walked to the door and listened. Silence greeted me, so I crept down the hall and out the back entrance. My heart pounded with adrenaline, my stomach churning with dread as I stumbled up the stairs and down the alley back to Paris' apartment.
As I ran, I tried forming a plan. If I went aboveground, I would have to come back. I was afraid that if I stayed, the vampires would launch the attack premature. Warning the humans in the first place would all have been in vain, if that happened.
I thought about going straight to the tunnels, but decided against it. I had no clue where they led, or how to navigate them. Besides, if I ran now, Paris and Aden might suspect I knew something, and I needed their trust to help my friends and family.
The memory of Aden's kiss shredded my heart in two. Since when had I started liking him? When had he become anything more than the sworn enemy?
Because he's defended you, been kind to you, a voice in my head said gently.
I shook my head. Lies. All of it had been just to get me to play along and not ask questions.
Well, if he thought this girl was going to play the part of love struck damsel-in-distress, he obviously didn't know who he was dealing with.
Luckily, there was no one out, and I slipped back into Paris' apartment unnoticed. I sniffed my skin. It still smelled faintly of formaldehyde. I found the bathroom and a washcloth, and tried to rinse the scent from my skin, or at the very least, mask it. There was nothing to do for my clothes. Something told me Paris would kill me anyway if she found me wearing something of hers, so I just sprayed some air freshener and lingered in it -- hoping it would stick to me -- before walking back to the couch. I covered my entire body with the blanket, trying to douse any remaining scent from the lab, and before I knew it, I had drifted into an uneasy sleep.
I heard the gun cock right before I opened my eyes.
"I could smell the lab on your clothes as soon as I walked through the door," Paris said, anger burning on her face. She stood over me, aiming a pistol at my head.
I stared back at her, keeping my lips pressed together.
"You followed me," she said.
I swallowed and slowly rose. "Yes. How long have you known?"
"Known what?"
"About the virus," I snapped. "The eradication of the human race."
"Now what makes you think that?"
"Don't lie to me," I bit back. "I saw the files, read about the experiments. My brother was one of your test subjects, wasn't he?"
Paris never flinched. "We had been experimenting with biochemical warfare for years, ever since the Eclipse. So many possibilities for the vampirism virus, but we never found the correct strain." She smiled. "Until fate delivered us your brother. Or rather, what was left of him."
I clenched the blanket tightly in my fist. Sure, my brother had his faults, but he still deserved more than to be brutally murdered and cut up like some science project.
"Why him?"
"Your brother's DNA is unique," Paris said. "Because he is descended from the first vampire ever created."
"That's absurd. You're saying I'm descended from some legendary vampire king?"
"You'd be surprised how often legends walk hand in hand with the truth," Paris said, smiling slightly.
"But I'm a human."
"No, not anymore. You never were completely human." She paced in front of me, never lowering the pistol. "Your blood lust manifested itself differently, in the form of your desire to fight. You were always stronger and faster than the other children, weren't you?"
"I..." I struggled to deny it. I always won all the prizes in Field Day, had dominated every track meet. My fighting record had been so lengthy that it had been a miracle to keep me on the team. Only my outstanding grades had made up for it.
I shook my head. "That can't be possible."
"Three years ago, humans would've said vampires were impossible, but they're real. We said there would never be another world war, and yet it happened. I thought I would be with my husband forever, that he would never die, but he did." Bitter rage colored her voice, and I tensed as she again raised the pistol to my head. "You're the missing link, Sloane, whether you're ready to admit it or not."
I shook my head, disgusted with her. "This is wrong. So, so wrong. Why are you helping them?"
"I'm helping us!" she screamed back. "You have no idea what is at risk here!"
She wasn't angry because of what I'd done -- she was angry because she was terrified. I could feel it. "What are you so scared of, Paris?"
She blinked, caught off guard. "I'm not."
"Yes, you are. I can tell." My eyes narrowed. "Who was that man you were with, at the lab tonight?"
Her face completely drained of color, turning her white as a ghost. She wetted her lips, locking wide, fearful eyes with me.
"Please," I pressed. "You can tell me." I pushed a bit of glamour into my words, hoping she would give in.
I waited, tense and silent.
"Nero," she finally whispered, her voice no more than air.
The Emperor. So that's who's behind the experiments. I paused. Aden thought the gunmen at the arcade looked like Imperial Guards, though he didn't know for sure. Could Nero really be the one trying to kill me? If so, why? Does he see me as some kind of threat?
Paris began unbuttoning her blouse. "What are you --" I started to ask, when I caught sight of a thin scar right above her heart.
"You see this?" Paris said, tapping it with her fingernail. "When Nero asked me to aid him, I couldn't refuse. He had a container filled with poison sewed into my chest, right above my heart. It's wired to explode via an electronic signal, going straight to my bloodstream and killing me instantly."
Paris walked toward me and bent down, her eyes hardening. "I am their only link to the experiments. Less than five vampires know, not even Frost."
I glared at her. "You're a surgeon. Why don't you just remove the vial yourself?"
Paris smirked. "As Nero told me, the vial has to be deactivated by him for it to become harmless. Should I try to remove it, the vial will break anyway. Which brings me to my original point..."
She pressed the barrel of the pistol against my forehead.
"If you breathe one word," she whispered, "I'll kill you."
Thankfully, I didn't have to stay with Paris for long. Aden came for me before noon. I had apparently fallen into a coma, as I didn't even hear Paris leave for the hospital.
"Did you manage to find out anything about the shooters?" I asked Aden -- perhaps a little too sharply -- as we walked. Behaving normally around him was proving harder than I had originally thought. Every time I looked at him and caught him looking back at me -- which he did frequently, like I might vanish any minute -- I became all flustered and couldn't think straight.
He's lied to you, I reminded myself. He can't be trusted.
Not meaning to, I glanced at him and blushed, quickly looking away. Now I know why I never dated. I hate feeling this way, this unease. It sucks.
Aden frowned, his blue eyes turning stormy. "No. But Frost doesn't seem to be too concerned about it."
Ha. Of course she's not. She could probably care less if I died.
"We looked into it, but couldn't find any leads," he continued. "Frost thinks they were probably more extremists disguised as Imperial Guards, and I'm inclined to agree. Either way, it was decided you should return to the academy to continue training. You'll be safer there than at my place, anyway, and Frost wants you to be ready if she needs you."
I narrowed my eyes. "Another person who wants to use me as a pawn," I muttered.
Aden glanced at me. "You sure you're all right? You seem a little... off today."
"Well, let's see. My brother was brutally murdered by a Rogue, and I was turned into the very thing that killed him. On top of that, I've been tortured, electrocuted, and shot at. No, I can't possibly imagine why I might be a little off."
Aden stopped, grabbing my hand. My skin tingled as he wound his fingers through mine. Part of me wanted to hold on to him as tightly as I could, while the other half wanted nothing more than to smack him. "You don't have to go in today," he said gently. "I can tell them you're not feeling well if you'd rather stay home."
My heart fluttered against my will as I stared back at him. The concern in his too blue eyes seemed so genuine.
Stay strong.
"No," I finally said, clearing my throat and looking at my feet. "I want to go. Training will be a much needed distraction."
He studied my face. "Anything else wrong?"
I shook my head, weary on all levels -- emotionally, mentally, and physically. "I'm fine." Geez, I even sounded tired. "I didn't get much rest last night."
Aden grinned. "I thought I saw a storm cloud hovering over your head this morning."
"Looking at everything that's happened to me recently, I'd say it's more like a hurricane."
He laughed, and then his face grew serious. "I swear to you, no harm will come to you on my watch." His voice had lowered, becoming breathier, as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, causing my heart to skip a beat.
I mentally stuck out my tongue at my heart. Traitor.
I nodded, having no reply to that. What could I say? Thanks, but no thanks, you lying douche. I know what you've done, and who you're working for.
Or so I thought. I didn't actually know if Aden was working for Nero. Maybe he didn't know about the experiments; Paris had said less than five people knew. Perhaps Aden really was innocent. But if he was completely naïve, then why did he smell like spices on and off?
It couldn't be pure coincidence; the smells are too close for it to be that. Then again, maybe they wear the same cologne... I'm so confused.
Aden placed a finger under my chin, raising my gaze to his. "Trust me, okay?"
I swallowed and nodded, my stomach doing a flip as my heart and mind duked it out. He gave my hand a squeeze before dropping it.
Aden quickly changed the topic, asking me mundane questions like what my favorite movie was, if I had ever been outside the United States, and so on. I only half heard what he said, too distracted by figuring out how I was going to escape.
\*\*\*
The rest of the day went on as usual. No shooters, no drama. It was blissfully mundane.
All day, my thoughts had been preoccupied with forming my escape plan. There was a track inside the base. Since I hadn't had a chance to probe Angel's mind about the tunnels -- as we were never truly alone -- I invited her to go for a run with me after classes let out. It was a shot in the dark, as she didn't exactly look like an athletic type, but to my surprise she readily agreed. Even more surprising was that she was able to keep up with me; she didn't even appear winded.
"I ran short distance sprints in high school," Angel informed me.
I glanced at her. She was thin and petite, but slightly toned. The more I studied her frame, the more she looked like a runner.
We talked a little about our track accomplishments, but for the most part we ran in silence, each of us focused on our breathing. It felt great to run, to feel the energy pumping through my veins, and to have sweat soak my skin and clothes. Five miles had passed before we stopped. We were both a little winded, though I felt I could've kept going, like the Energizer bunny.
"It's your vampire stamina," Angel explained as we walked to the showers. "And it'll only get stronger the longer you're a vampire."
I checked the bathroom as soon as we walked in. Good. We were alone. This was the one place where there weren't any security cameras, either. We had complete and total privacy. If I was going to pick Angel's brain, now would be the opportune time to do it.
Earlier, I had told Aden where we were going for a run, and he said it'd be fine if we went without him, though he had sent two extra guards to come watch us in case anything happened. They were waiting for us outside the bathroom, as they were both male.
I heard a shower spring to life as Angel popped open a shampoo bottle and the smell of lavender and jasmine permeated the steam wafting from under her curtain. Stripping down, I grabbed my things and went to the stall next to hers. I cranked up the water as hot as it would go, relishing the heat as it relaxed my muscles.
Angel started singing a tune I didn't know, and I giggled as she struggled to hit the high notes. After gathering my thoughts, I said, "Hey, Angel?"
She paused. "Yeah?"
"I've been meaning to ask you something."
"Okay! What is it?"
"Uh... do we get the Internet down here? I figured you would know since you're a computer genius." I didn't know if any kind of signal could be picked up this deep underground. I hadn't seen a single cell phone or computer since I'd arrived.
"Um, not really..."
"But?"
I could tell she was hesitating. "I've got a laptop at my place that's rigged to the Internet."
My interest piqued. I thought I already knew the answer to my next question, but I decided to chance asking anyway. "Do you think I could possibly use it?"
A shampoo bottle clattered to the floor as Angel dropped it. Her voice was softer when she replied, "Contacting the outside world is forbidden."
"And yet you have the Internet."
"For work purposes," she argued.
"Is that all?" I asked doubtfully.
When she didn't respond right away, I sighed and reached out with my glamour to grasp her feelings. Reading Angel's emotions was like snacking on candy; they were always sugary sweet and good. Since the first time I had learned how to read people's thoughts (in a sense) with glamour, I'd noticed Angel's were truly pure, rooted in kindness all the way down to her core. I decided to trust her with my plan. Or at least, with the rough outline of it.
"I want to contact my family, Angel," I said, "to say goodbye." She didn't need to know I was planning on warning them about a super virus.
"If you breathe one word, I'll kill you."
No, I definitely wasn't going to tell her about that part.
I heard Angel laugh softly. "I figured it was only a matter of time before you came to me for help." After a few more seconds, she added, "Sure. I'll help you."
I blinked. "You will?"
"Yep."
"Just like that?"
"That's what I said."
I stood there, flabbergasted. Not that I was complaining, but I had expected this to be harder. I didn't even have to use any glamour, which at this point I was desperate enough to do, even if I did somewhat consider Angel a friend.
I quickly finished washing up, killing the water shortly after Angel did. We both drew back the curtains and stepped out about the same time, wrapped in towels.
"Why did you decide to help me?" I asked.
She shrugged, but I saw the determination in her expression. "I never got to say goodbye to my family." Her eyes regarded me with sympathy. "My mom, dad, and my little brother... I let them think I was dead. They were very devout Christians, and I wasn't sure how they'd perceive me if they ever found out what I had become." She bit her lip, a tear sliding down her cheek.
I reached out and rubbed her arm. "I'm so sorry." I truly meant it. "My father raised my brother and me." I blinked, surprised I had just told her that. I didn't talk about him with anyone.
Angel watched me curiously. "Where was your mom?"
"In the military." I sighed hard, frowning. "She was never really around, and when my parents divorced, my father won custody of us. His winning argument had been that we could stay with him and not have to move around all the time whenever my mom switched bases.
"My mother was white and came from an old school, well off Southern family. When she became pregnant by my father -- who was black -- they practically disowned her and kicked her out of the house when she was barely eighteen."
Angel leaned against the wall, water dripping from her hair. She crossed her arms, listening.
"Neither one of my parents could afford outright to go to college, so my dad got a job at a local textile factory, working long hours, while my mom stayed home and took care of us. We never had a whole lot of money." I smiled wistfully. "One day, my mom spoke to a recruiter for the Marines, and got this idea in her head that if she joined the military it would help our financial troubles. I remember hearing my mother and father arguing about it when I was little. My father didn't want her to go, said he'd do anything if it meant her not becoming a soldier, but she didn't listen and did it anyway. Two years later, they divorced."
Angel was silent, digesting this. "Where is your dad?"
"Dead," I said quickly, looking at my hands. It tore at my heart to admit that. "He died of lung cancer." I laughed bitterly. "You want to know the irony? He had never smoked a day in his life. One day he was fine, the next, he wasn't. Orion was killed right after Dad was diagnosed. I think Dad lost a little of his will to live, to fight the disease, after that. I watched him suffer for little over a year, listening to him crying in the bathroom at night when he thought I was asleep." My throat closed up, and I ducked my head to hide the tears brimming in my eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Sloane," Angel whispered, her gentle eyes bright. She crossed the short space separating us, her bare feet slapping against the puddle of water on the floor, and gave me a hug. I hugged her back, my face and eyes burning at the memory of my father.
"Sloane," Angel blurted, "are you... going to leave us?" Her bottom lip quivered, and I suddenly felt incredibly guilty. Though I wanted nothing more than to run away from this place for good, something in the way she looked at me now pulled at my heart.
"I would like to see my family again, or at least, what's left of them," I admitted with a heavy sigh.
She suddenly grabbed my hands. "Promise me you'll come back. If you don't... if they find out I helped you..."
My eyes widened slightly as I registered what she was saying. I hadn't thought about Angel suffering the consequences of helping me escape. All I cared about was getting back in time to warn everyone. It made me feel really selfish and shallow. After her sticking her neck out for me, there was no way I could just abandon her to Frost's whims. I owed her more than that.
"I promise," I said firmly. "I'll come back."
Angel didn't ask me again if I was planning on escaping. We changed, trying to make conversation but the air felt heavier now, our words tense and awkward.
"Come on," Angel said. "I'll tell one of the guards to let Aden know you're coming over to my place to study for our calculus test."
I had forgotten about that. Not that I'd need to study much anyway. I had aced that unit in my studies back in Pittsburgh, before all this happened. Somehow, I doubted Angel's cover would work, but I kept my mouth shut as we left the bathroom --
And nearly plowed straight into Rook.
His eyes widened when he saw me. "Er, hi, Sloane. Angel." He ran a hand through his braids, biting his lip and looking away.
I blinked, looking up at him. "Where are the other guards?" I asked, slightly afraid. I hadn't forgotten about the other day, when he'd nearly drowned me. It was the first time I had seen him since then.
"Gone," Rook said, crossing his arms with a small smile. "I've been out here for the past thirty minutes. For a moment, I thought maybe you girls had drowned in there."
I laughed awkwardly at the word "drowned," but Rook didn't seem to pay it any attention.
Angel stuck her tongue out at him and he blushed. I quickly looked back and forth from them as they playfully bantered, Rook teasing her incessantly about her long showers, and Angel defending her beauty routine.
It wasn't hard to figure it out. Rook's crushing on Angel.
I licked my lips, excited at this new development. Maybe I could use this to my advantage.
"So what are you doing here anyway?" Angel asked. "Hoping to catch a free show?"
Rook waved away her comment. "Aden sent me."
"He did?" I asked. "Why?"
"Frost's orders. She thought you could use an extra body guard, so I volunteered."
My stomach dropped. "You volunteered?"
While I knew little could probably get by Rook, this also meant an added complication to my plan. How was I supposed to write to Leo if Rook was going to be looking over my shoulder the whole time? There's no way he would let that ride.
Angel seemed unfazed. "Cool. Well, you're going to have to come with us. We're going over to my place so we can study-up for our big calculus exam tomorrow."
She made a gagging motion with her hand, and I gave her a tense smile. "All right," Rook said, seeming pleased at being invited to Angel's home. I noticed a back pack at his feet, which he tapped with his foot. "I've got some reading to catch up on, anyway."
"Great," I said with a shaky, nervous laugh. "What are we waiting for? Let's go."
\*\*\*
The evening continued to get weirder. Upon retrieving my book bag from my locker, Rook immediately offered to carry it.
"Please? I insist," he said.
"O-kay," I said slowly. He had already taken the bag and slung it over his shoulder. He stared at me funny, like he was on the verge of saying something more, when Angel bounced up.
"Oh, sweet. Butler service!" She shoved her hot pink purse and silver sequined bag into Rook's arms, which he barely had a chance to get a hold of before she started walking. "Thank you, good sir!" she said in a pompous manner. "Now if you please, follow me."
Angel's apartment wasn't far from Aden's. I kept ahead of Rook and Angel, who seemed content on talking each other's ears off. I smiled inwardly. The old Rook never would have been this open around a girl. He must really like her.
"Hey, Sloane?" Rook said beside me. I jumped, not having heard him walk up.
"Yeah?" I asked, discreetly edging away from him.
He ran a hair through his braids, looking uncomfortable. "Sorry about the other day. I didn't mean for it to go that far."
"Oh," I said, surprised. "Um, it's okay. I'm fine, as you can see. And I'm sure it was an accident, right?"
He nodded. "I get a little edgy and more aggressive when I haven't fed in a few days."
"Fed?" Then it dawned on me. "Oh. You mean, drinking blood."
"The vampire equivalent to PMS," Angel chimed in, coming up on the other side of me. "Only it affects males, too. Poetic justice." She smiled sweetly at Rook, who rolled his eyes, muttering something about "unfair."
A light bulb flicked to life in my head. "Is that why you volunteered as my bodyguard?" I asked Rook suddenly. "To make up for... well, you know."
I swore his cheeks reddened. "Yeah, I guess you could say that," he said softly.
Still wary, I probed his thoughts with my glamour, but oddly enough, found no trace of ill will toward me. He was being completely, one hundred percent honest.
I gave him a small smile. "Don't worry about it. It's in the past now."
Rook's shoulders perked up a bit.
We reached Angel's apartment after a short walk, and she ushered us upstairs. It looked the same as Aden's, only not quite so nicely furnished. Then again, with Mrs. Knight being an interior designer, I didn't think anyone else's place could compete with what she could dream up.
Angel led us to her room and my eyes immediately froze on the laptop sitting on the middle of her desk.
I'm so close... with a few clicks of a button, I can let Leo know I'm alive.
Rook settled in a corner as I sat cross-legged on the small twin bed running alongside one wall. Now I just have to get rid of Rook.
"Make yourselves at home," Angel said. "I'm going downstairs to make us some snacks."
She trotted off down the hall, catching my eye and giving me a wink before descending the stairs. A moment later, there was a crash, and Angel squealed in frustration. "Oh, Rook?" she sang from the stairwell. "Could you come help me? I've broken the mixer again!"
Rook sighed and shook his head, getting up. "For someone who's supposedly tech savvy, she sure has a knack for breaking a lot of shit."
I waited for his heavy footsteps to die away before diving off the bed for the desk. My foot got caught in the comforter and I nearly careened into the floor, but I managed to right myself and plopped down in the chair. I pressed a button and the screen came to life. Pulling up the browser, I quickly found my email Login page and typed in my username and password.
From downstairs, I could hear Angel giving Rook the runaround on how to hook something up.
My inbox appeared, and I opened a New Message screen. After selecting Leo's email address from my contact list, I hastily typed him a message:
"I'm alive. Meet me at the playground this Friday night at midnight."
I debated on changing the time to 11:59 p.m., hoping he wouldn't take that literally, but quickly decided he would know what I meant and hit SEND. I released the breath I had been holding when the message cleared, showing it had gone through.
This Friday. That would give me three days to prepare everything I needed.
I scrambled back onto the bed just as Rook and Angel entered the room. Angel set down a tray of cookies and soda. "Hungry?"
"Famished," I said, taking a cookie. She gave me a questioning look, and I barely nodded my head.
She relaxed, smiling. "All right," she said cheerfully. "Let's do this!"
\*\*\*
We studied for two hours before calling it a night. Rook offered to walk me back to Aden's and I agreed, not seeing how I had that much of a choice.
Conversation between us was still a bit awkward. I didn't think I would forget him trying to drown me anytime soon, no matter what he said or how hard he tried to make it up to me.
After dropping me off at Aden's door with a goodbye, I went upstairs to my room. "Sloane?" Mrs. Knight called, and I paused on the stairs. "I made spaghetti for dinner. It's on the oven. Help yourself when you get a chance."
"All right, thank you!" I called back, climbing the stairs and walking into my room.
I dumped my bag by my bed, but a flash of white caught my eye. There was a corner of something caught in the zipper. Unsure what it was, I knelt and unzipped the bag, pulling out a large, folded sheet of paper. I opened it and my eyes lit up with surprise.
There was a note, scrawled in Angel's precise cursive. I thought she had been doing an awful lot of writing while we were at her place. "Oh, I remember things better if I write them out by hand," she had said, never removing her eyes from the page.
But it's math, I thought. What are you writing, your dissertation?
I eagerly scanned the page:
S-Dog (I snorted),
Let me know when you plan on "flying from the nest." I'll make sure the cameras don't see you. ;)
Love,
Angel (There was a little drawing of a halo above the "A.")
P.S. -- Don't forget the map.
I gasped, rereading the post script.
Fishing through my bag, I found an unfamiliar brown sheet of paper that had been folded over several times. Pulling it free, I flattened it out and rested it on my bed, bending over it in awe.
It was a complete, detailed spread of the tunnel system.
I grinned from ear to ear.
Angel had literally just lived up to her name.
I was so consumed by my mission that Thanksgiving literally snuck up on me. Vampires apparently still recognized the holiday; the academy was out of session for the next two days, and they even held a base-wide potluck right on the premises on Thanksgiving Day. But not everyone had the day off. As a commanding officer, Aden had to go in to oversee some "security things," or so he had muttered at dinner the previous night. As for me, I was ecstatic to have two full days to finalize my plan before the next night, when I planned on leaving.
Thursday was pretty uneventful. I remained holed-up in my room for the most part (except for trips to the bathroom and kitchen). Mrs. Knight hadn't been home all day (my excitement grew the night before when she mentioned she was in charge of organizing the potluck, and would be at the base most of the day setting everything up). Hearing her talk about it, the dinner was a big "to-do." Though I would sorely miss the turkey and dressing, I was more anxious to get a good night's sleep (if I could fall asleep).
When Aden knocked on my door that night, I was so strung out by nervous energy that I almost yelped.
"Sloane? You have a second?" he called through the door.
Panicking, I scrambled to hide the map and my notes, shoving them under my pillows before settling myself into what looked like a convincing "homework position."
"Yeah!" I answered.
Aden opened the door, but I didn't look up, pretending to be engrossed in my English Lit. assignment. "Hey, the potluck's starting in about thirty minutes. You celebrate Thanksgiving, right?"
"Hmm?" I said, pretending not to hear him. "Oh, right, the potluck." I put my pencil down and stretched my arms above my head. "I'm actually on a role with this paper that's due Monday, and would like to get it knocked out so I can enjoy the rest of the weekend."
Aden gave me an incredulous look. "But it's hand carved, oven roasted turkey."
"Yes, I figured as much."
"And sweet potatoes."
"You don't say."
"And made from scratch apple pie that's --"
"Okay, okay, I get it. It's going to be out of this world awesome." I sighed, giving him the sweetest smile I could. "Which means you'll have to bring me back a plate?"
My million watt smile never faltered as Aden stared back at me. "Yeah, sure. Suit yourself, but you don't know what you're missing out on."
And with that, he shut the door, and I shot my fists in the air with a silent "Yes!"
I smirked. Guess I picked up some tricks from watching mom act for the cameras.
Tired but determined, I retrieved the map and planted it front of me, once again trying to devote the precious route to memory.
\*\*\*
The next day flew by, and it was Friday night. I was in the apartment, lying on my bed. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the digital clock sitting on my nightstand. I yawned, rubbing my eyes as the time focused. The neon green digits read 11:30 PM.
I bolted out of bed. My head was hurting earlier, so I had popped some aspirin -- or what I thought was aspirin -- and taken a nap, wanting to be well rested for my journey tonight. But I must have grabbed the wrong pill bottle, because I had severely over slept my alarm. I should have been gone an hour ago.
I grabbed the kitchen knife I had swiped at dinner and raced to the bathroom, turning on the shower. I stuck my head in so my hair would get nice and wet. Then I turned back to the sink, leaving the shower running, hoping the sound would be enough to mask any noise I might make.
I rolled back the sleeve of my sweatshirt, and with a shaking hand, lowered the tip of the knife to the spot on my arm where the micro tracking chip had been inserted. Aden said it had been deactivated, but if that was completely true, why hadn't he taken me to Paris so she could remove it? Though no one had said anything about my little overnight field trip to the lab, I wasn't taking any chances, not this time. The tip broke my skin, and I bit down on my lip hard as I dug around for the chip, forcing myself to stay calm. It wasn't very deep, less than an inch, and once I saw the chip, I lifted it out of my skin with the tip of the blade.
I put the chip in my pocket, and despite being incredibly dizzy, managed to clean up the blood I'd spilled on the floor. I slapped a band-aid across the wound and rolled down the sleeve, then reached over and turned off the shower. After combing through my wet hair, I unlocked and opened the door.
Aden was standing right outside. I jumped, startled. "Hey," I breathed, trying to calm my racing heart. "Did you just get home? You missed dinner."
"I had to wrap something up at the academy. Apparently a virus ate through our security cameras about two hours ago, knocking out coverage of the entire grid."
I tried very hard not to look excited by this. "Yikes. That sucks."
Aden didn't appear very pleased. "Yes, well, Angel said she would have it recovered by midnight."
I smiled inwardly. Perfect timing.
Aden tugged at his shirt sleeve, but not before I noticed another bandage at the crook of his arm.
"Giving blood again? You're awfully generous."
"What can I say? I like to help out however I can. Did you know vampires can still donate blood to humans and it won't change them?"
"Shut up."
"It's true. Paris has been playing around with it. As long as there's not too much vampire blood in their system, they won't turn. Blood types still have to match, though."
"Hmmm... interesting." It was kind of ironic, thinking of a vampire donating blood to a human.
My eyes flickered behind him, to the clock on my night stand. 11:45 PM. If I didn't hurry, I might miss my chance at meeting up with Leo, if he had even gotten my message. I hadn't been back to Angel's to find out.
I gave Aden a tense smile. "It's been a long day," I said, trying to move past him. "I think I'm going to crash early."
"Oh, okay." He sounded disappointed.
I paused. "What?"
He blushed slightly, looking down. The carpet had suddenly become very interesting to him. "It's nothing. I was just wondering, you know, since it's Friday night and all, if you'd be up for watching a late night movie with me?"
I blinked, surprised. "Um..." I chewed on my lip. "I'd love to, but I kind of have this awful headache and really would like to crash." I gave him a hopeful smile. "Can I take a rain check?"
He looked at me, smiling back. "Of course. Have a good night."
He started walking toward his room and I ducked across the hall into mine, thinking I was home free, when he paused and sniffed the air. "Hey, did you lose a limb shaving or something? It reeks of blood."
I froze, but laughed before I could panic. "I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing and clipped my shin pretty good." I shrugged. "No big deal."
Aden gave me an amused smile before shaking his head and disappearing into his room, closing the door behind him.
I shut my door and raced through my room, collecting my things: a flashlight with extra batteries, the kitchen knife, the map of the tunnels (which, upon studying them, I had discovered were laid out in the same grid as the Pittsburgh White Sector), a watch with a glow-in-the-dark face (which I put on), and a change of clothes. I twisted my hair up into a wet bun and pulled on my black sneakers. Reaching into my pocket, I removed the chip and laid it in a small, empty jewelry box under my pillow before going to the window.
It slid open easily. I hoisted myself over the ledge, slowly lowering my body until I hung from my hands. The drop wasn't far. I let go, catching my fall on the balls of my feet and the palms of my hands with all the grace of a cat.
I ran, trying to make as little sound as possible as I sprinted toward the mausoleum. The base was deserted. Everyone was at home by now. Along the way I encountered a handful of guards, but I was easily able to avoid them. Other than that, I didn't see much of anyone else... until I got to the mausoleum.
I frowned as I knelt next to one of the fake rose bushes. I counted at least ten guards surrounding the building, no doubt Aden's doing after the other night. I didn't blame him. I'd be worried about me escaping, too.
I looked around, seeking some way to distract them. A stray thought streaked across my mind.
I wonder how far my glamour would reach...
Feeling bold, I crept closer to the mausoleum, settling in the bushes a few feet from two of the guards. They clutched big riffles, and I saw tazer guns at their belts. Each of them wore a bullet proof vest and a headset.
I shook my head, somewhat flattered Aden considered me this much of a threat.
As he should, but did he honestly think a few studs with guns would stop me?
Focusing on one of the guards, I pushed my thoughts upon him, willing him to believe something was happening near the alley on the opposite side.
He blinked, shaking his head.
His comrade eyed him with concern. "Hey man, you okay?"
I pushed harder, feeling the thought harden as it took solid form in his head. "Yeah," he said slowly. "There's something going on in the alley. We should round the others up and check it out."
The other guard looked confused and tapped his headset. "I didn't hear anything."
But the glamoured guard was already gone, running away from me. The second guard paused, debating whether to leave his post. After stalling for a few seconds, he called the other guards about the issue, telling them to spread out, and walked away.
Completely alone, I sprang from the bushes, sneaking around the side of the mausoleum and letting myself inside. I flipped on the flashlight and spotted the tomb that marked the entrance. Pushing aside the lid, I descended the ladder into the hole. After rolling out the map, I studied the highlighted route and took off running as fast as I could. I glanced at my watch. Five minutes until midnight.
I wondered what Aden would do when he discovered I was gone. I'd left a note on my nightstand, saying I'd be back in a day or two, and to tell everyone I was sick with a stomach virus. Angel had helped me with that. Apparently being a near immortal vampire didn't make one immune to disease.
The tunnels seemed to grow longer the farther I ran, darting this way and that as the grid changed paths. At last, I came to the tunnel I thought led to the park -- and the playground -- where Leo and I had first met. The ground shifted as the tunnel arced up, leading to a single manhole-sized door. I stopped in front of it, panting.
What if Leo had brought the Black Cross Guild? Even worse, what if they were all armed to the teeth with Scarlet Steel?
Remember why you're here. You're not the type of person to leave your friends hanging. You can't let them die.
I fisted my hand, taking a deep breath. The reason why I'm here... I might not get another chance like this. It's now or never.
Bracing myself for death and accepting the dangers, I pushed on the door and peered through the hole.
Blades of slightly overgrown grass rose all around me (my eyes were level with the ground). Damp earth and fresh rain soaked the air as I stuck my head out, looking around. As I had hoped, I was somewhere in the park, which was situated behind my old elementary school. The air was cool, the sky clear and spackled with stars.
I glanced at my watch. Twenty minutes after midnight.
Swearing, I set my equipment (all but the knife, which I tucked in my pocket) just inside the entrance and hauled myself out of the hole. After pulling the lid back into place -- leaving it slightly ajar in case it had a tendency to get stuck -- I raced through the trees, praying Leo hadn't left yet.
Please, please be there, I thought, seeing the brightly colored playground equipment through the foliage. I peered through the leaves, not seeing any sign of Leo.
My heart began to sink. Maybe he'd gotten tired of waiting and had already left. Or maybe he had never shown up to begin with.
Disappointment stabbed at my chest as I stepped through the tree line and walked over to a swing set, gravel crunching under my feet. I plopped down, heavy hearted, and slowly began to rock myself.
I was too late, all because I overslept. I could've kicked myself, I was so angry.
Gravel shifted behind me. "Sloane?" asked a shaky, rough voice.
I gasped sharply, my heart skipping a beat as I abruptly stood and whirled around to find a tall, olive-skinned boy standing a few feet away. My eyes widened, drinking him in. His black hair was spiked with gel, and the muscles in his chest and arms stretched against his white t-shirt. A pair of brown eyes looked back at me, mirroring my shock.
"Leo," I whispered.
He slowly smiled, and I laughed as I ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck as he clutched me tight.
"It's really you," he said, running a hand through my hair. "I thought... we all thought..."
I pulled away and smiled up at him. "Yeah, me too, for a while."
His eyes were always fierce -- Leo didn't know how not to fuse passion into anything -- but something about the way he looked at me now made me tremble.
"I've been helping the Scarlet Guard search for you," he said. "McGuinness even had the Guild out looking."
This surprised me. I had always thought McGuinness hated me. Then again, McGuiness didn't really seem to like anyone.
I tensed at the mention of the other hunters, but Leo didn't notice. "Are you hurt?" he asked, examining me.
"No," I said, blinking. "I'm fine, for the most part."
"For the most part?" A sharp edge crept into the question.
I bit my lip. When I'd come here, I had every intention of telling Leo about the underground city of vampires. But for some reason, Angel's face, all innocent and naïve, flashed through my mind's eye, followed by Aden, his stormy blue eyes burning into my own. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't erase him from my thoughts.
I can't tell Leo about them. Not yet.
Shock and confusion rolled through me as I began weaving a lie. "I was chased by vampires," I heard myself say. Leo took a sharp breath as I continued. "I fought them off, but they followed my trail. I've been outrunning them, trying to find my way back. By some miracle, I found an old house that still had some electricity and a computer."
"How did you get back in? To the White Sector, that is."
"I used the same code."
Leo looked at me hard. "Did they... hurt you, Sloane?"
The air thinned between us as I stared back at him, unblinking. "No," I finally said. "No, they didn't."
He let out a long sigh. "Thank God you're alive," he said, pulling me to him again and resting his cheek against the top of my head. "I don't know what I would've done if I lost you."
I hugged him back, breathing in the scent of mint soap on his skin. Leo. My Leo. I've finally found you.
We stayed like that for a few minutes, neither of us speaking, before Leo pulled away and said, "Do you want to tell your mother? I assume she doesn't know you're back."
My stomach churned at the thought of facing her. "No," I said quickly. "Not yet." I didn't think I'd ever be ready to face her after what I'd done. I had broken so many laws and restrictions by going into the Red Sector. Those actions alone were going to come with a heavy punishment. I especially didn't want to think what she'd do if she found out I was now a vampire.
To my astonishment, Leo grabbed my hand and smiled at me. "Come on. I have a surprise for you."
"Where are we going?" He led me toward his blue Jeep Compass, which was parked in the school parking lot.
Leo lived with his uncle, who had more money than he knew what to do with, and often doted on his nephew. He had bought the Jeep for Leo as a Christmas present less than two years ago, right after Leo had turned sixteen.
He grinned as we got in. "You'll see." He gave my hand a squeeze, and I squeezed back. It wasn't romantic. We had always held hands, since we were kids. Leo was closer to being a brother to me than anything else, my best friend in the entire world. I wasn't even sure I could think of Leo in that way. Or rather, I was afraid to, as if by doing so I would be sabotaging our friendship. I didn't think it was worth the risk.
Leo sped off and filled me in on what had been happening since I'd been gone: school, training, etc. A whole month had passed, but the world had continued marching on as it always had.
After a short drive, we pulled up in front of a sketchy looking, aluminum sided warehouse. I slowly got out of the Jeep after Leo. "Where are we?"
He didn't answer, but his lips were curved into a mischievous grin. He pulled something from his pocket, dangling it in the air for me to see.
"A blindfold? Really?" Normally, I would've been ecstatic about surprises. Call me crazy, but after spending time in the Red Sector, I'd had more than my share of surprises for this lifetime.
"Trust me," he murmured, wrapping the strip of black cloth over my eyes and tying it behind my head. I gave him a nervous smile as he took me by the shoulders, guiding me as we walked into the building. He paused, warning me of some approaching stairs, and we slowly descended. Blind, I reached out with my other senses. It felt like concrete flooring. The air smelled of sugar and dust, and there was so much alcohol riding the draft that I could literally taste it.
"Leo, I'm not sure --"
"Trust me. We're almost there."
In front of me, there was a muffled giggle and a few gasps right before Leo ripped off the blindfold and I faced a throng of people yelling, "Surprise!"
My nervous excitement quickly turned to horror as I looked at their wrists, seeing one black tattoo cross after another.
This wasn't just a surprise party.
Leo had deposited me in a room full of vampire hunters.
Don't. Panic.
Pasting a bright smile on my face, I welcomed the crowd as they closed in, hugging and welcoming me back with warm sentiments. My body tensed as they surrounded me, but as far as I could tell, they didn't suspect anything amiss.
Yet.
Old friends and new faces alike spoke to me. In just the short month I had been gone, the Guild had already doubled in size. McGuinness always had been an ambitious recruiter.
I was hardly able to meet their eyes, knowing what I was and how naïve they were. Not too long ago, I was just like them. We thought all vampires were like the wild Rogues, that they were nothing more than blood thirsty monsters incapable of turning a victim, though we knew it was possible. But the Rogues always killed their victims before turning them; making a vampire was practically impossible in our books.
Oh, how we had been so very wrong.
"All right, all right." Leo pushed them back. "I know you're excited, but give her some space."
Silence fell over the crowd as they parted, and a giant-of-a-man sauntered up to me. For the most part, he looked like a G. I. Joe, complete with rippling pectorals and a buzzed haircut; he even had a set of dog tags dangling from his neck, a souvenir from the time he'd spent on the frontlines of the U.S. Army in his early twenties (he was twenty-eight).
"So the rebel returns," McGuinness cawed. His shadow fell over me, but I kept my spine straight as I met his beady eyes. "Welcome back, McAllister."
"Thank you," I said, unflinching. "It's good to be back."
Truthfully, I was glad to see everyone, despite my nausea at being surrounded by vampire hunters.
Then McGuinness did something I never would have expected: he opened his arms, inviting me in for a hug.
I stared at him. Is he serious? He barely shakes hands with people.
Beside me, Leo looked as shocked as I was. The whole room seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for my reaction.
"Well?" McGuinness barked. "It's not like I have damn fleas."
Speechless, I slowly stepped into his embrace. He immediately grabbed a fistful of my hair, painfully jerking my head to the side. "I knew it." He dug his nails into the scars on my neck, where Aden had first bit me. "She's been bitten, fed upon."
Leo paled, shooting me a questioning look before turning back to McGuiness. He steeled his gaze. "It doesn't mean anything."
"Ha!" McGuinness spat on the floor. "Like hell it doesn't. You heard about the experiments, what could happen to a human if they've been drained dry. All it takes is one drop..." He brought his face close to mine, and I nearly gagged from the smell of beer and tobacco on his breath. "Did you have any of their blood?"
"No," I hissed, forcing myself to look him in the eye. "I'd rather die."
The look in McGuinness' eyes made me cringe. "Vampirism wasn't classified as a virus for nothing. If you've been fed upon, you could still be infected." His gaze snapped to Leo. "Rinaldi," he barked.
Leo stiffened at the use of his last name.
"Bring me your dagger." McGuinness' voice was sharp as a blade.
Leo's fist clenched by his side. I barely made out the edge of a hilt. Squinting, I saw the outline of a sheath tucked into his belt. "For what?" Leo hissed.
"So I can test her, see if she's still human."
My heart began to race, the memories of being chained and shot by Scarlet Steel fueling my terror. You have nothing to worry about, I consoled myself. Leo doesn't have his dagger.
But maybe they've found more Scarlet Steel, another voice countered. It's been a month.
My eyes roved to the sheath at Leo's side. Had he managed to accrue another dagger? Or was this one a fake, meant to trick his father into thinking he still had it?
For my sake, I sure hope so.
Leo's face was murderous. "Over my dead body."
Everyone froze, not saying anything. No one was stupid enough to contradict McGuinness, not with the look he was giving Leo. "That was an order."
"And I have the right to say no way in hell," Leo shouted. "If Sloane was different, I of all people would know. She's just as human as you and I am."
Guilt gnawed at me. What would Leo do when he found out the truth? Would he be so quick to defend my honor then?
"If you won't give it to me," McGuinness hissed, "then I'll have to take it." He made to swipe the dagger, but Leo threw a punch to his face that sent him reeling backward. His grip loosened enough that I squirmed away from him, my scalp raw from having my hair pulled. McGuinness staggered and regained his footing, wiping blood away from his busted lip. His eyes burned with rage. "You're going to regret that, boy."
Leo held up both hands, as if saying "bring it on," when I stepped in front of him. I placed my hands on his chest, pushing him back. "Please, don't make things worse," I pleaded.
Leo glared at McGuinness, sucking in a tight breath, before turning sharply on his heel. "Let's get out here," he muttered.
I followed him out while McGuinness shouted at our backs. "Don't come back 'til you've learned to reign in your emotions. Think with your head and not your penis, Rinaldi! It'll get you killed someday!"
My blood ran cold. It was a very real possibility that Leo could die because of me.
What have I done?
Once we were outside, Leo punched the side of the building, fuming. I stayed back, awkwardly watching him with my arms crossed. Leo always did have a bit of a temper, and I had learned the best way to deal with that was to just let him get the anger out of his system. "Riding out the storm," I called it.
At last, Leo turned to me, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry you had to see that. McGuinness has been edgy ever since you disappeared. I guess he was afraid if you did show back up, you'd attract the Scarlet Guard."
The Black Cross Guild operated "under the radar," since hunting vampires was illegal. The government was struggling to maintain control as it was; they had enough problems to deal with without the rest of the human population going all medieval by raiding the Red Sectors in hopes of slaying every vamp they came across.
Leo looked at me, his eyes softening somewhat with sympathy, and I knew what he was going to ask before he spoke.
"You ready to tell your mom?"
I chewed on my lip. The snowball's started rolling down the hill. Might as well go with it, at this rate.
"Ready as I'll ever be," I grumbled, getting into the Jeep.
We didn't talk during the drive, not that I would've had much to say. My glamour barrier, as I called it, was so strong now I didn't even have to think about holding it up. It came naturally, and I could let it slip at a whim, controlling how much of one's emotions I tasted. Leo's were hot, and I felt guilty for probing, so I backed off. I could tell he was still angry, partially at me for not telling him the truth. But he was trying very hard to withhold that anger and talk to me later when he knew he wouldn't bite my head off. It was one of the aspects I loved and respected about him. He would call me out on my stupidity, but he would also give me time to open up to him on my own terms.
It was just as well we didn't have this argument now, about why I had lied to him in the first place. I had other problems stewing in my mind.
Home, sweet home, here I come.
The pea gravel driveway wound up a hill, snaking like a river toward the main gate guarding Sovereign McAllister's mansion. I'm not even sure "mansion" would have done it justice; "palace" was more like it. It was a two storey, Southern plantation styled home. (My mother had it built shortly following her victory in the Sovereign election. Upon the house's completion, I had dubbed it "the shrine to the South," figuring my mom still had some lingering feelings toward her roots.) Lights shone on it, making it appear that much larger. Colossal columns rose toward the balcony, from which hung the American flag and the blue Pennsylvania flag. Long shadows stretched along the white panels and brick-laid front porch, complete with white wicker rocking chairs. The grounds looked surprisingly charming, considering the severity of the woman living inside.
Bitterness ate at me as I stared at the house. It had never been my home, not truly, though we'd lived there for little over a year. Home was where my father and brother had been, and now they were both gone, abandoning me to the cruel whims of my mother and the cut-throat game of politics she loved to play. Like my brother and I, our mother had a desire to battle. Sometimes I thought her race to outsmart her opponents was her way of getting her fix, since she wasn't on the actual battlefield anymore. My mother relished victory no matter how she attained it, through spilled blood or winning a competition.
Things were hectic within the nation's government right after the Eclipse. When elections rolled around for the new position of Sovereign, it didn't take my mother long to win the job. After the federal government decided to do away with governors in favor of creating a leadership role that relied more heavily on military power, my mother was a natural shoo-in, having come from a military background herself.
Leo and I were silent as we drove. A wrought iron gate surrounded the entire massive property, with its immaculate, sprinkler-system-fed lawns and sharply trimmed hedges. Leo pulled to a stop at the clearance gate, where a man dressed from head to toe in a red military uniform waited inside a glass structure.
Seeing the Scarlet Guard again gave me chills. There was something unnatural and foreign about them, from their big bucket helmets that completely covered their faces -- almost space-outfit looking -- to the eerie way they seemed to stand perfectly still. Wide white ribbons threaded in gold with the Allegiance to the Sovereign (my mother had made them all swear fealty at this big knighting ceremony, the only occasion I've ever actually seen the Guard not wear their helmets) ran along the front of their long robes, the skirt of which was cut up into four "flags," allowing them to easily move. Beneath the robe (which hid all the knives and guns the Guard also carried), they wore red pants bunched up in tall black boots.
"Identification," the Scarlet Guard said in his cold, robotic voice. The tall black scythe -- my mother's odd weapon of choice -- stood sentinel next to him, the blade of which arced clear over the top of his helmet. I suppose Sovereign McAllister thought they looked more intimidating than a gun and a baton.
Leo glanced at me, as if asking for permission to proceed. I reluctantly nodded, throwing up the strongest mental barrier I could, as if doing so would help me endure the verbal lashing I was sure to find inside the mansion.
Let's get this over with.
Leo cleared his throat. "You might want to skip over all the formalities and protocol bullshit."
The guard was unperturbed. "And why might that be?"
Leo paused for dramatic effect. "Because I have Sloane McAllister with me."
What happened next happened so fast I barely had time to breathe. One minute, I was sitting in the Jeep; the next, Leo and I were both seized by the Scarlet Guard. They took us into the mansion, hauling Leo off in a different direction for questioning while they notified my mother of my arrival.
The sound of pumps rapidly clicking against marble floors drifted above me, and a moment later my mother appeared at the top of the grand staircase, in all her regal glory. She was an attractive woman. At thirty-six, she still looked not a day older than twenty. She stood tall, with black stiletto pumps and a black business suit, as if she had just come from a meeting. Her blond hair was curled at the ends, and her makeup was camera-perfect. As she stared at me, her mouth formed an "O."
"Sloane," she breathed.
The wave of anger and resentment I always felt at seeing her didn't come. Instead, my eyes burned with unexpected tears.
Mom.
She rushed down the staircase, but the guards kept me firmly rooted to the spot. My mother raced across the floor, her expression desperate as she came closer.
Maybe she'll actually give me a hug. I can't remember the last time she did.
I waited, hopeful, starting to open my arms to her, when without warning she raised a hand and slapped me so hard across my cheek I saw stars. The sound reverberated through the foyer and I froze, unable to believe what had just happened.
"What were you thinking, running off like that?" Her cheeks burned with anger. "Do you have any idea what the press is saying about me?"
I couldn't believe the words pouring out of her mouth. "I should have expected something like this, what with your fighting history. You're practically a juvenile delinquent. I thought maybe, just maybe, you cared enough about me and my career -- after everything I've done for you -- to at least try to act like a decent daughter." Her voice dropped a few degrees in temperature. "Obviously, I was expecting too much of you."
I was speechless, the poison of her angry shouts seeping into my soul. Anger overpowered my hurt feelings, and I straightened, glaring at her. "And I thought maybe you'd act like a decent mother for once and be glad to have me home safe." I matched the frigidity of her tone. "But obviously, I was expecting too much of you."
Outrage flared on her face. "You're just like your no-account father. You're reckless, foolish. No wonder Orion died because of you. I told him to quit spending time with you, that it was just a matter of time before you were lost to us all."
That dig went straight to my heart, but it only furthered my resolve to stand up to her. "I'm surprised you even noticed he was missing. Hell, I'm floored you even saw I was gone."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked venomously.
"That you traded your family for your career," I spat back. "Maybe you were too busy to notice."
She raised her hand. I could tell she wanted to slap me again, but she held back. "You ungrateful brat. You have no idea the sacrifices I've made for you and your brother, for your father, even."
"Oh? From where I stand, we were the only ones who had to make sacrifices. Remember all those years Orion and I had to listen to you and Dad fight, you know, right before you abandoned us?"
"I didn't abandon you! I was putting food on the table, building us a better future. Look around you!" She gestured to the stucco-painted walls, the pearly slabs tiling the floor in rainbows. "We never in our wildest dreams could have accomplished this if I hadn't done what I did."
"We didn't care about money!" I shook my head, exhausted. "You never could see that. All we wanted was you, to have a family again. Dad tried. He tried so damn hard every day of his life to create a sense of family, and you threw it all away for a career and money."
She faltered, a sliver of my mother tearing free before Sovereign McAllister suppressed her again. "You always were more willing to defend your father." She pursed her lips. "But I've done more for you than he ever could."
"No." I looked her in the eyes, my expression stone cold. "You can't even hold a flame to him."
I jerked free of the guards and moved past her, starting up the staircase. "I'm not finished with you yet!" my mother yelled.
"Funny, because I'm finished with you." I didn't turn around as I said it, but her next words stopped me cold.
"Sloane McAllister." My mother's voice boomed off the walls, powerful like an angry goddess. "Your actions are deplorable and punishable by federal law. As your Sovereign, I sentence you to house arrest --"
I almost groaned. Not again.
" -- and you will be subjected to a blood test before facing trial, which will decide your final punishment."
I gripped the banister so hard my knuckles turned white. If they tested my blood, they'd find out I was a vampire. And I knew how my mother would feel about that...
Masking my face with cool indifference, I said, "Don't you think you're being a little dramatic? I hardly think a blood test is necessary."
"As history and modern medicine have shown us, viruses can evolve. Though you may not have been bitten, you could still be contaminated."
I gritted my teeth. "And as we've learned, vampirism can only be spread through drinking a vampire's blood after being drained. And we both know that's next to impossible."
My mother turned still as Death. "You will submit to a blood examination, or I will hold you accountable for treason, as well."
My jaw dropped. "Treason? Are you freaking kidding me? That's punishable by death!"
Sovereign McAllister slowly smiled. "Only if found guilty."
I gulped, hoping it didn't show on my face how scared I was. Either way, my mother would find out I was a vampire. And when she did, I would be executed.
I tried to breathe, to think straight, as my gaze lowered to the stairs in stunned silence. I couldn't believe my own mother was doing this to me. She was speaking again, only her voice sounded a mile away. "The Scarlet Guard will retrieve you at dawn. You are to remain in your room until then."
I didn't say anything, and she didn't pursue me as I climbed the stairs and practically ran to my room at the end of the hall.
I slammed the door behind me and leaned against the door, sliding to the carpeted floor. Nothing had been touched; it was exactly as I had left it. The princess like canopied bed, the armoire of pearl jewelry, and the antique vanity in the corner, all recently dusted and perfectly situated.
My gaze sharpened to a glare. I hated it all, every aspect of being the Sovereign's daughter.
They'll come for you at dawn.
Dawn. That's how long I had left to live. That is, unless by some miracle I managed to escape.
I can't explain why I thought of it, but the memory of my first meeting with Mrs. Knight floated through my mind, how she'd kindly smiled at me and welcomed me into her home, even though I was a total stranger.
I sighed, swatting at my eyes as my mother's words lashed out at me in my head.
Deep down inside, I felt an ache, and I had never felt so far away from home as I did now.
Home. Where is that now? Do I even have one anymore?
I had crawled into bed with all my clothes on, curling onto my side as I tried to shut out my confusion. All I wanted was to forget my fried emotions, to drown them in the sweet nothing of sleep. I was so anxious for dawn that I didn't fully doze off, though I drifted in and out of consciousness a few times. Dreams greeted me, random thoughts of all the people I had recently come into contact with: Aden, Rook, Angel, Mrs. Knight, and even Dezyre. My mother was also there, only she was the one who wore the fangs, going on a killing spree and slaughtering everyone I knew and cared about.
I woke with a start, catching my breath. Sweat coated my forehead and neck in beads, and I swatted at it with the comforter.
Thwack.
I paused, listening. The room was dark. I was pretty sure the door was still locked, as per my mother's orders.
Good thing I have a bathroom in my suite.
Thinking it to be my imagination, I lay back down against the pillows and closed my eyes.
Thwack.
I sat up. What was that? It struck again, and I put a direction to the sound.
It's coming from my window.
Crawling out of bed, I crossed the room and peered outside just as another rock struck the glass. I jumped, and pushed the window open. Ice cold air rushed inside and I hugged myself, staring into the night. There was no moon out, no blood red light to illuminate the grounds. Not that I needed it -- I could see just fine. At first, I didn't notice anything amiss. My side of the house was lined with tall hedges and trellises baring overweight rose bushes, the musky scent of which floated up to my nostrils. I inhaled deeply, not realizing how much I had missed the smell of real roses.
"Sloane!" a voice hissed.
I looked down. Leo was very well concealed within the foliage. I'm not sure I would have seen him if not for my enhanced sight.
"What are you doing here?" I hissed, keeping my voice down. "I thought the Scarlet Guard had you."
He waved my question away. "We'll talk later," he whispered back. "I've come to bail you out."
Hope flooded through me. I looked at the antique clock hanging on my wall. It was nearly 5 a.m.
I smiled. Just like old times.
Leo and I would sneak out of the house all the time to get into mischief. We never did anything bad to anyone. Our late night outings consisted mostly of harmless pranks, especially around Halloween.
Of course, sneaking out of a high security mansion was going to be a different problem.
"How am I supposed to get down?" I asked. "The drop's too far." Actually, it wasn't, at least for a vampire, but he didn't need to know that.
"Jump," he said, holding out his arms. "I'll catch you."
"No way!"
"Come on, Sloane. Please?"
I pursed my lips and sighed. I couldn't piss off my mother more than I already had, not to mention I had a death sentence hanging over my head. At this point, all things considered, sneaking out of the house sounded pretty good.
I swung my legs over the side and Leo got into position. "Ready?" I asked.
"Yep."
Bracing myself, I pushed myself off the window ledge and dropped, landing neatly in his arms.
"Good catch," I said as he sat me down.
He grinned. "All those hours spent in the gym are starting to pay off." He grabbed my hand. "Come on. I know a way out."
I smirked. Leave it to Leo to outwit the Scarlet Guard.
He led me around the side of the house, and we paused to peer around its edge. A multitude of Scarlet Guards paced the yard, scythes at the ready.
"How on earth did you manage to get in?" I asked. "They're everywhere."
"Nope." He wriggled his brows at me. "Not quite."
We crept alongside the house, sticking to the shadows and making sure to keep hidden behind the brush. Something putrid wafted through the air and I plugged my nose.
"Sick," I said, sticking out my tongue. "What is that?"
Leo looked at me oddly. "You mean you can smell that from here?"
That's right! My sense of smell is more honed than his.
I shrugged it off. "Don't you smell it, too? I don't see how you can't, as terrible as it is."
Leo grinned. "All part of the master plan."
We turned the corner, where the smell was ten times stronger. I chanced a peek above a bush; the septic tank had apparently exploded. There wasn't a guard in sight.
"Did you...?" I pointed, covering my mouth.
He nodded, looking very pleased with himself. "A little bit of dynamite, you know, to shake things up a bit. Apparently, there's only so much shit the Scarlet Guard will take."
I snorted. "Nice pun."
"Thank you."
Glancing around, Leo and I sprang from the bushes and ran across the lawn straight into the forest surrounding the property. We darted through the trees, not daring to speak in case a stray guard was nearby. At last, we came to the wrought iron fence. Leo's Jeep was parked just on the other side.
"Come on," he said, locking his hands together as a makeshift step. "I'll help you over."
I stepped onto his clasped hands and he hoisted me up. Gripping the top of the bars, I pulled myself up and over, dropping down on the other side. Leo jumped up, the muscles in his arms flexing, and easily did the same.
I quirked a brow, impressed. "You weren't kidding about working out."
He held his arms up, a devilish smile on his face. "Like what you see?"
"Didn't say that," I said, crossing my arms and looking away before he could see me blush.
He laughed as we got into the Jeep and sped away. Leo kept his headlights turned off until we had discreetly merged on to the highway, then we whooped and hollered about our "grand escape." Though we had managed to actually get off the property, I knew it was only a matter of time before they discovered I was missing and came after me.
Leo pulled up to the playground we had been reunited in only hours earlier. Upon seeing it again, memories of all the time we had spent playing there as kids resurfaced, and some of my fear abated. We had so many memories together, Leo and I, almost a lifetime's worth. And yet despite the comfort the playground brought, my spine was rigid, my shoulders tense as I looked around. "Don't you think we should keep driving? The Scarlet Guard is supposed to come for me at dawn."
"Why?" Leo asked, opening up my door.
I made no move to get out, warring with my instinct to just hop in the driver's seat and peel out. "My mother --" I made a disgusted face "-- thinks I could have been infected while I was over there. She wants to test my blood at dawn." I looked sharply at Leo. "When the Scarlet Guard was interrogating you, did you tell them I had been bitten?"
Leo smiled, looking very smug. "Not a chance. I just told them I'd come here to think, and had run into you. They asked me some more questions, I fed them some more bullshit, and we all went home." He paused, studying me as I started chewing on my lip, nervous. "Relax. We all know how being turned into a vampire works. They're just being paranoid."
When I still didn't get out of the Jeep, he offered me his hand. "Come on, for old time's sake. We'll stay here for a little while, then I'll drop you back off at the mansion before they ever know you're gone. Besides, you have nothing to be afraid of. It's not like you're actually a vampire."
I'm glad it was dark, because he definitely would have seen me turn about three shades paler.
Leo finally reached down, taking my hand and looping his fingers through mine as he tugged me out of the Jeep. "Come on, Sloane. You need a break, admit it. I could hear your mother all the way in the other wing."
"The vampires in the Red Sector probably heard her."
He chuckled. "She's got some lungs on her, that's for sure."
"Thanks for busting me out," I blurted.
Leo squeezed my hand, throwing me a sidelong smile. "Don't mention it. That's what best friends are for, right?" He turned, looking at me harder this time.
Self-conscious under his gaze, I tried pulling away but he resisted, keeping a firm grip on my hand. His expression turned stony. "You didn't say you had been bitten. Why didn't you tell me the truth when I asked if you'd been hurt?"
"Because I wasn't," I said, bristling at his accusing tone. "It's not a big deal, okay?"
Leo studied me. "I know you, Sloane. Better than you know yourself sometimes. Something's got you worked up, and I don't believe for a second it's just about what happened tonight."
I clenched my jaw, looking away, but he gently turned my chin back toward him. "What really happened in there?"
I hesitated and took a deep breath. My heart was beating so loud, I could feel it in my head.
"I was captured."
Leo's eyes bulged and I thought he might flip out, so I hastily continued. "There are more than Rogues over there, Leo. There are... vampires, like us."
His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean they can talk and reason. They even look like us."
"You mean like Dracula?"
"I'm serious!" I said, punching him lightly in the chest. "And that's not all. I found out they're creating a super-virus, one meant to wipe out the human race. It's supposed to be twice as contagious as the bubonic plague."
"You mean the Black Death, the virus that wiped out two thirds of Europe back in the Dark Ages?"
"The very same, only ten times worse. I saw records of the experiments myself."
Leo stared at the ground, brooding. I was worried he wouldn't believe me when he asked, "How did they come up with this weapon?"
I chewed on my lip. "I... found a file on my brother. I think they experimented on his corpse." It was hard to say, thinking of my brother being poked, prodded, and dissected. "They found something in his blood that allowed them to create the virus. It's why they wanted me."
"Your birthmark," Leo murmured. "That's how they recognized you."
I nodded, opting not to mention what I'd learned about the Mark of the Creator. I didn't even know if I fully believed the history behind it myself. "Please believe me. We have to warn everyone before it's too late."
Leo stared at me, seeing the truth in my eyes. He nodded curtly, grabbing my arm. "We should tell the Scarlet Guard immediately."
I pulled back on his hand, planting my heels in the ground. "I can't. I have to go back to the Red Sector."
Leo whirled around. "What? Why?"
"Think about it, Leo." I took him by the shoulders. "My brother and I am the key. If they found out I was missing, they may spook and launch the attack earlier."
He shook his head. "I just got you back. No way in hell am I losing you again."
"We have no choice!"
"Yes, we do!" he shouted, shaking me once. "I thought you were dead, Sloane! I can't go through that again."
"I'm not asking you to. I'll come back."
"What if you can't? What if they find out you've been gone, huh? What then? What if they kill you?"
I swallowed against the knot in my throat. "Then that's the chance I'll have to take."
But at least you now know about the virus and the other vampires.
Leo shook his head and tried to pull me away again, but I resisted.
"What is it?" He sounded exasperated. "Why are you so eager to go back?"
I looked away. "It's just..."
"What?"
I took a deep breath, struggling to put what I wanted to say into words. "If I don't go back, we won't be the only ones in danger." My voice became smaller and smaller. "They're... different. Some of them are, anyway. Almost like..."
Leo gawked at me. "Have you actually grown to care for some of those monsters?"
"They're not monsters! Some of them are kinder than a lot of the humans I've faced."
"Sloane, listen to me. There's a condition, where the captive starts sympathizing with the captor. It's called Stockholm Syndrome."
"No! It's not that." Or was it? I felt so lost, confused by Leo's accusations. When did I grow to care so much for the vampires? They were supposed to be the enemies, weren't they? They had taken my life, my freedom.
"Why are you protecting them?" Leo hissed.
Exactly what I was wondering.
My throat had suddenly gone dry. "Rook's down there, you know," I whispered.
Leo took a sharp intake of air. "You saw him? Was he a prisoner, too?"
"No." I shook my head. "He's..." I bit my lip, my heart thundering in my chest. He's been turned. Like me.
Should I tell Leo the truth? Hearing the hatred in his voice, I wasn't sure if that was the smartest idea.
Leo watched me, eyes sharp, as he waited for me to elaborate.
I forced myself to meet his gaze, hoping I could mask the fear struggling to push through my expression. My voice was barely audible when I spoke. "He's been turned."
Leo's eyes widened as a mask of pure horror spread over his face. He swore loudly, and I flinched. "It doesn't matter then," he said. "If he's one of them now, he's the enemy, pure and simple."
I blanched. The word "enemy" felt like a knife stabbing straight into my heart. Oh, Leo. There's so much more I want to tell you.
I resisted the urge to bolt through the woods and down the hole right then and there. "I have to go back," I said, turning. "I can't wait around for you to understand."
Leo grabbed my hand and pulled me to him so forcefully that I had to throw my other hand to his chest to keep from slamming into him. He cupped my cheek in his palm, stroking my face with his thumb as he leaned in, so close I could feel his breath on my lips. My heart leaped to my throat, my face burning, as his eyes locked with mine.
"I can't lose you again, Sloane," he whispered, his normally strong voice now raw and strained. "It would destroy me. I... I love you."
Shock shot through me, and I gasped right before he brought his lips down hard on mine, pressing me close to his chest. I felt the contours of his muscles beneath my fingers, tasted the depth of his emotion with his hungry kisses.
I didn't think about it. My body responded to his without my mind's direction, leaning into him, wanting to be closer though we were pressed as tightly together as we could be. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him back with a fervor matching his own. I felt alive with desire; every fiber of my being tingled with the desperate need to feel an emotion other than guilt, resentment, or fear. More than anything, I just wanted this moment to last forever, to blot out the sorrow of past tragedies.
His mouth drifted from my lips, brushing butterfly kisses down my neck and along my collarbone. I sighed with desire, my blood burning my skin. My mouth tingled as my teeth began to ache, and I felt the scorching need to become part of him.
Leo... my Leo...
I wasn't sure how it happened. Time slowed as I tucked my head into the crook of his neck, smelling the sweat forming on his skin as his hands tangled in my hair. The perfume of his blood, like honey and chocolate and sugar, drifted up to me, and I moaned, kissing a vein that popped out along his neck.
Leo groaned deep in his throat, and that's all it took. Without realizing what I was doing, I opened my mouth and bit, feeling his shock as he shuddered beneath me. Blood, warm and sweet, flowed into my mouth, and I drank steadily as Leo at first tried to pull away, then leaned into me, grinding his hips against mine.
Memories of our lives together accompanied his blood, like watching a slideshow: the two of us dressed up for the Homecoming dance (we often went as each other's dates, completely as friends only); us surrounded by our group of friends at a burger joint, laughing and hanging out after a football game; Leo trying to "pop a wheelie" on his bicycle and failing miserably while I laughed hysterically in the background. Some of the images were foreign. I saw Leo standing beside his father, watching something through a two-way mirror. I followed their gaze, read their fear, as a Rogue leaped for the bars, its fangs bared and eyes glowing like embers.
I awoke from my bloodlust with a jolt, gasping as I ripped my fangs from Leo's neck and. He sagged, a dreamy haze covering his eyes, which were slowly clearing as I backed away from him. I covered my mouth as blood -- my best friend's blood -- dripped from my lips onto the ground.
Leo blinked a few times, slowly raising a hand to his neck. "What happened?" he asked in a husky voice.
I froze, my wide, terrified eyes watching as he saw the blood smeared across his palm. "What the..." His voice trailed off as the color drained from his face, and he lifted his eyes to mine in disbelief.
"You're... you're one of them."
My breath came in ragged gasps as I shook my head, trembling. "I'm so, so terribly sorry, Leo. I'm so sorry." I said it over and over again, all the while backing away.
Inside, I was falling apart. No, not Leo. How could I do that to my best friend?
The tips of my fangs raked across my bottom lip, giving me a slight lisp when I spoke. Behind me, a chorus of birds came to life as dawn's first light colored the sky yellow. I hadn't realized how long we had been out here.
Slivers of sunlight crested the horizon, and I squinted my eyes against the bright light. Warm rays kissed my face, pleasant at first, then growing uncomfortable as the sun regained its strength with the start of a new day.
What was happening? Why did my skin feel like I had rolled around in poison ivy? Vaguely, I remembered a dinner conversation with Aden: "Vampires can't handle direct sunlight. You won't light up like a diamond, but you'll burst into flames if you're exposed for too long."
How long was too long? A minute? A few seconds?
"Sloane?"
I looked up, startled. Leo was standing right in front of me, staring me down. My breath caught as I saw myself reflected in his eyes. My irises weren't brown -- they were blood red, almost on fire as they caught the sun's light.
The image of the Rogue, with its red hot eyes, tormented me.
You're a monster, just like it.
I let out a horrified gasp. "Forgive me, Leo." Then I fled into the woods without looking back.
He shouted my name, a terrible, agonized wail, but I didn't stop. It only increased my desire to get as far away from him as I could.
I can't risk hurting him again. Next time, I don't know if I'll be able to stop.
What had gotten into me? It had been so innocent -- a kiss, nothing more -- and then I was feeding off of him like he was a Capri Punch.
My stomach churned, and I tasted vomit as I ducked toward the man hole, hastily uncovering it and jumping inside. I landed hard, scraping my knees along the rough earth, but I quickly stumbled to my feet. The burning sensation in my skin immediately vanished in the dark.
A cruel realization hit me, and I felt an overwhelming wave of sorrow. I'll never be able to feel the sun on my skin again.
Snatching up my gear, I took off down the tunnel. Tears stung my eyes as I ran, retracing the path in my mind. My eyesight was super-clear now, as was my hearing, and I swore I was even moving faster.
It's Leo's blood. It has to be.
It made me sick to think of what I'd done to Leo, especially after he had confessed his love for me.
My head swam with thoughts, making me dizzy. How was I supposed to feel about Leo now? I had never really thought of him that way. Not that I had to worry about that now. He would probably kill me on sight if he ever saw me again.
"If Rook's been turned, then he's the enemy now, pure and simple."
I brushed a stray tear from my cheek as I climbed the ladder and emerged from the tomb, slamming the lid shut behind me.
I immediately sensed I wasn't alone and whirled around, fists ready, to find a lone figure dressed completely in black sitting on one of the tombs.
"Aden," I rasped.
He regarded me with a lazy smile. "Did you accomplish what you needed to?"
I blinked, confused by his polite tone. I was sure he would be furious once he found out I was gone, but here he appeared amused more than anything. I shrugged, hugging myself. "I'm not sure," I replied, voice trembling.
His eyes sharpened as he rose. He walked up to me, and I had to bite my lip to keep from bursting into tears right in front of him. Aden studied me in silence. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly.
He stepped forward and wrapped me into a gentle hug. I let him hold me, burying my head against his shoulder and fighting back the sobs rising in my throat. I felt pathetic, a complete emotional wreck, and all the more embarrassed for it because I was so close to breaking down in front of Aden.
I tried to pull away when my silent tears began soaking Aden's shoulder, but he held me close. "It's okay," he murmured into my hair, tightening his grip on me. "Go ahead and cry."
Those words were so gentle, so understanding, that I finally allowed myself to do something I hadn't done much of these past three years. I cried. It felt good, a relief almost, to be able to just let it all out. He held me for several long minutes until I somewhat calmed down. Mostly I felt numb, unable to feel any more pain. I'd had enough to last a lifetime. He tucked me under his arm and led me outside. We were alone. Wherever he had sent the guards, it wasn't here, as we walked away from the mausoleum and toward his apartment.
He didn't speak a single word to me on the way home, and I was almost grateful to be going back to his place. I felt at home -- welcome -- there, which only added to my confusion.
Leo's angry words burned in my memory. Why was I defending them? Since when had the vampires, who I had spent three whole years loathing, become my friends and family?
Aden opened the door for me, and I stepped inside the apartment. I raced up the stairs, too eager to get in my room. Aden followed.
"Do you need anything?" he asked quietly, and I paused at my door, my back to him and one hand on the knob.
I leaned my forehead against the door. "I don't know." My voice was barely a whisper. I turned to look at him, feeling weary and broken inside. "Does anyone else know I was gone?"
Aden shook his head. "Just me. And Angel, I suspect," he added with a touch of annoyance. "I wasn't too worried about it, so I didn't see the need to inform anyone."
I stared at him. "Why not?"
His eyes shone with unspoken emotion. "Because I knew you'd come back."
I blushed, staring at him a few seconds longer before letting myself into my room. I didn't hear him leave as I closed the door and placed my cheek against it, as if listening for the beating of his heart.
I closed my eyes hard, wanting so badly to ignore the thrumming of my pulse, and the need for Aden's arms to be wrapped around me. When he had held me earlier, my life hadn't seemed like a complete train wreck. I painfully had to admit to myself that he'd been the only thing holding me together when I had come back.
Growling in frustration, I balled up my fists, wanting to punch something. Why did I have to respond this way to him? He was my sworn enemy. I was supposed to hate him!
I fell onto my bed and buried my mouth in the fluffy pillows, letting them swallow my scream.
Behind my closed lids, I saw Leo's mortified face as he stared back at me. And all I could see reflected in the terror in his eyes was a monster. I sniffed, fighting back tears.
That world is lost to me forever. This is where I belong now.
I slept all weekend, content to just remain holed-up in my room while I sorted some things out. Aden told his mom I wasn't feeling well, and after assuring her I didn't need to see a doctor, I was relatively undisturbed (except when she brought me food). I appreciated Aden and Mrs. Knight's understanding; God knows if I had remained at the mansion, I'd probably be dead by now, most likely sentenced to death by my own mother. It hurt to think about that, like every time I did, my heart tore that much deeper.
Sunday night, there was a light knock at my door around dinner time. I sat up from the couch, folding up the novel I'd emerged myself in. "Book worlds" were so much more appealing than the one I lived in.
"Come in," I called, expecting Mrs. Knight.
I gasped a little as Aden walked through the door. Honestly, I hadn't seen much of him since I'd been back. I didn't know if he had been taking pains to give me some space, or if he'd just been incredibly busy. Either way, I didn't mind when he brought me a tray and sat down beside me.
"How are you feeling?"
I chuckled darkly. "I was never sick, remember?"
"I'm not talking about that," he said quietly.
I stared at the plate, picking at the fresh veggies with my fork. It smelled delicious, but I suddenly wasn't very hungry. "All right, I guess."
"Just all right?"
I stabbed at a carrot. "I don't know, honestly. Confused. Guilty, maybe." I sighed. "I'm just so sick of feeling... bad. Over Orion and now..."
He waited, not pushing me as I collected my thoughts. "I bit my best friend," I whispered, cheeks flaming.
I thought maybe Aden would be furious, thinking I'd betrayed the vampires and told them about the base's whereabouts. But he appeared perfectly calm as he settled back into the couch. "I figured that would happen. It's in our nature, the thirst for blood. It's something that can be controlled but not always helped."
"Then how come I haven't felt this raw need for blood before? I've been a vampire for over a month now."
"Our desire for blood becomes much stronger around humans," Aden explained. "As we don't have any here -- since it's technically against Nero's Laws -- you simply haven't thirsted for blood."
Huh? One of Nero's Laws?
I thought of the lab full of deceased human bodies, of the dead face of the little girl I had tried to help escape. Paris admitted Nero was with her the night I camped out in the lab. He definitely knew about the bodies, which meant he was breaking his own laws.
My thoughts were so hung up on Nero that I almost missed what Aden said next. "Now that you've tasted human blood, you'll need to feed more regularly."
My eyes widened. "I am not biting another human being."
He held up his hands. "Relax. I'm not asking you to go on a killing spree. We have blood bags here to help with 'the thirst.' Paris happens to know a vamp who ironically works at a blood bank on the surface."
When I didn't respond, he added softly, "If you don't drink it, you'll die."
Good, I almost thought, then pushed the notion away. No way was I going to just give up. If I did die, I would go down putting up a fight.
I crossed my arms. "Fine."
Aden leaned forward, and I felt his eyes on me. "It's not your fault, Sloane, feeding on your friend, that is. Did you drain him?"
I paused. "No..."
"Then no harm done."
I eyed him. "How do you know it was a him?"
Aden stared back at me for a few seconds, stalling, before finally admitting, "I saw glimpses of him in your memories, when I turned you."
My eyes widened as the full meaning of his words sank in. "That's not fair! It's almost worse than reading someone's diary! Those are my memories! They're personal. How can you spy on --"
Aden lifted a hand, cutting me off. "They were only glimpses, nothing more." When he saw I wasn't going to say anything else, he continued. "Memories can be imprinted in one's blood, but they're never crystal clear. They're more like Impressionistic paintings; the image is there, but it's not in full detail."
I crossed my arms, still glowering at Aden. "How much did you see?"
"Only snippets, brief flashes of places and people," he replied calmly. "You can never see full memories from drinking someone's blood, only pieces of them."
I paused, remembering how I'd seen memories of Leo and me when I had bit him. He was right; I'd only seen "snapshots" of our time together.
I gave him a curt nod, as if to say "I trust you."
He clasped his hands together, and I decided to change the topic. "I didn't tell anyone about the base, in case you're wondering."
Aden shrugged, looking as if he could care less. "I've never been particularly worried about anyone finding it. Humans never want to believe in the impossible, in the real, live horrors that walk this wretched earth." He suddenly sounded thousands of years old, despite the fact he had only been a vampire for less than two years. "People have known about us for centuries, ever since the Dark Ages, yet history and science have painted us to be nothing more than a myth. Those who have seen us convince themselves it was a dream, that they were hallucinating when they saw our fangs, that it was a trick of the light when our eyes glowed red as we licked a drop of blood from our lips."
I thought about what Aden said, staring at the coffee table, but it was hardly enough to divert my thoughts from what was really bothering me. "I didn't mean to," I said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt him."
"And you didn't." Aden put a hand on my arm, and I felt his warmth through my shirt sleeve. "Just as you didn't mean for Orion to die the way he did, which, by the way, also wasn't your fault."
I stared forward, distant. "I don't really know what to believe anymore."
"Forgive yourself."
Aden said it with such fire that I turned to look at him. "You can't wallow in misery over things of the past. Trust me, I've been there."
I blinked, wondering about something. "When we went out to dinner," I said carefully, "you had a photo. You said the man in the picture was your father, right?"
Aden tensed, pulling away from me, but I placed my hand over his. "Please," I said. "I want to know."
His eyes grew hard, his expression guarded. He glanced down at my hand and sighed. "Yes, he was my father. Still is, I suppose."
"So he's alive?"
"Yeah," Aden spat. "He's probably still living in Pittsburgh, right where we left him, or rather, where he left us."
I listened as Aden opened up to me. "My father was a politician, always trying to get ahead. He finally won the job of Mayor, and things were going well for a while... until I was changed."
I thought of the man's face, and another memory came back. That's where I've seen him before, in the newspaper and on TV. He was the Mayor of Pittsburgh before my mom took over as Sovereign.
"What happened?" I asked softly.
Aden smirked. "Believe it or not, I was quite the rebel. I used to sneak out of the house and go to wild parties, drinking and smoking and getting high. Really idiotic things, now that I think about it."
I was surprised. Cool, collected Aden had never struck me as the wild, "bad boy" type.
"One night," Aden said, "I was completely hammered, so much that I was blacking out. I must have passed out on my way to the bathroom, waking up in a pool of my own vomit, because the next thing I knew, this shadow was leaning over me. I thought I was hallucinating -- it was a guy, that much I could tell, but he looked odd, like he had fangs. He told me everything was going to be all right, and then I blacked out. Then, I woke up down here with this pounding headache and two bite marks on my neck.
"I was so gone, I didn't even remember my own name. Paris was the first person I met here, other than Dezyre, who saved me. Turns out, my body didn't take to the change so well, something to do with the blood of the vampire who made me."
My mind was hooked around one detail. "Dezyre Drake saved you?"
Aden blushed, looking away. "She's not all bad. We dated for a little while," he mumbled. "But though I was grateful she had ultimately saved my life, I couldn't develop anything more than gratitude toward her. We broke up about a week before you arrived."
So that's why she was so hateful toward me. She thought I was moving in on her man.
I'd have to mull that one over some other time. "How did your mom become a vampire?"
Aden's eyes darkened to indigo. "I went back to tell her what had happened about a month later. Paris thought I was crazy, but I went anyway. My dad flipped out, saying he didn't want anything to do with me, that I was going to hell and he didn't need anything tarnishing his reputation, even though he ended up losing his job to your mom a few months later."
I winced. His dad sounded so much like my mom.
"The morning after he had moved out, I found my mom sitting alone in the living room, staring at a picture -- the one you saw -- in her hand. She had been up all night crying. Just when I thought she may scream at me to get out, her bloodshot eyes met mine. I had never seen her look so haunted." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Without saying a word, she held out her wrist, inviting me to drink."
"So you changed her?"
"Believe me, I didn't want to." His face was pained. "But she begged me, and so I did. Then we both came here, abandoning our old lives."
I sat back, absorbing all this. "I'm sorry about your dad, for what he did to you and your mom."
He shrugged. "Don't be. I'm not."
Aden rose, rubbing his palms against his jeans. "You'd better eat that while it's still edible," he said, pointing to the tray.
"Aden," I called and he stopped, turning around.
I stared at him, unsure why my heart started beating so fast. "Thank you. For telling me, that is."
He nodded, almost walking away, but then paused. "I almost forgot about this," he said, pulling a box from his pocket.
I groaned, remembering the chip inside. "No way am I letting Paris put that thing back in my arm. Do you have any idea what I went through to get it out?"
He handed it to me. "Chill. I was just going to tell you to throw it away."
"Oh." I sat the box in my lap, then looked up at him, puzzled. "Why the change of heart?"
Aden's eyes danced. "I think you know."
I blushed, not sure how to respond, but thankfully I didn't have to. He smiled at me, making me flush deeper, and strolled to the door before letting himself out.
I sighed and fell back against the couch. No wonder Aden hadn't wanted me to go to the surface. It wasn't job related -- it was because he had first-hand experience in being shot in the back by his family.
Maybe he wasn't a villain, as I had thought. But if he wasn't working for Nero, why did he share the same spice scent? What game was he getting at?
I closed my eyes, suddenly tired. Sleep came, accompanied by the feeling of Leo's lips upon mine. But this time, they didn't bring their usual wave of guilt.
This time, I felt regret.
When Monday came, I returned to the academy. Angel looked visibly relieved to see me.
"Did you go?" she hissed to me during calculus.
"Yeah." I gave her a small smile. "Thanks for covering for me. The camera thing was great."
She waved my praise away. "And?"
I sighed. "I said goodbye."
"Oh. Good, then."
And that was that. She didn't bring it up the rest of the day, bless her. I guess I really did look that sullen, trying to push Leo from my mind.
Following Aden's suggestion, I'd thrown the chip away. Seeing as I'd only been gone one night -- and since the chip apparently really was dead -- no one had noticed anything out of the ordinary. I tried really hard to banish my memories of Leo, to forget about the kiss we had shared and what that meant. My biggest regret was never seeing him again. How could I ever face him? The kiss made things twice as bad.
It doesn't matter. You're never going back there. This is where you belong now.
I spent a lot of time worrying about the virus, wondering when they would unleash it. I wanted to stop it down here, to head it off before it ever had a chance of reaching the surface, but I had no idea how I was going to go about doing that. Despite that dilemma, I felt marginally better after warning Leo. At least someone up there knew what the vampires were planning, and I prayed Leo would heed my premonition before it was too late. That somewhat eased my guilt, knowing I had possibly saved his life. I could forgive myself if he lived.
Word had spread about my fight with Rook, and the other vampires more or less started to accept me as one of their own. Some of the other soldiers -- mostly my classmates, the ones who were there to see the fight -- even started treating me with respect. I was thankful for the acceptance, as it meant I didn't have to worry about trying to constantly tune out everyone's hatred and anger. Though I kept my mental block up, I still stayed alert for any "warning signs," like the one I received at the arcade right before the shooter fired. But life remained blissfully dull, and I preferred it that way. It made it easier to settle into a routine.
Before I knew it, three whole weeks had flown by, and we were less than seven days away from Christmas. It didn't feel like it, being underground. Festive wreaths and twinkling white lights had been hung along the walls and doors, and from the ceiling, cheering up the base a bit. Aden said it was a way for us to hold on to our humanity.
I noticed a definite change in the air as Christmas Eve approached. Everyone seemed more excited, and I couldn't blame them. Somehow, I still managed to feel a bit melancholy, though I tried not to let it show. No use in bringing down everyone else's spirits.
"So," Angel piped up one day.
"So what?" We were walking down the hall together toward the mess hall.
She looked so excited, she could hardly control herself. "Has Aden asked you yet?"
My eyes narrowed. "Asked me what?"
"Oh, that's right. It's your first year here. It's still somewhat of a new tradition, as we only started this last year, but on Christmas Eve, we hold a Holiday Ball, right here at the base. It's glorious!"
I blanched at the thought of dancing. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass."
"No!" Angel tugged on my arm, pouting. "Please come! It'll be a lot of fun, I swear!" She blushed, looking uncharacteristically shy. "I'm going with Rook."
"Shut up! You are not."
She nodded, grinning ear to ear. "He asked me last week. I thought, you know, we could all go together."
I sighed. "Angel, I can't dance. Besides, I don't have anything to wear."
Though I had gotten my first paycheck, they'd taken out a big chunk for court costs and hospital bills, which sucked. (I thought that was totally unfair.) What little Krillion I had left in my account had to last me through the next month, as I'd still need to buy groceries or have enough to cover a meal at the base. Right now, food definitely trumped a fancy dress.
"Oh, leave that to me." Her eyes glittered mischievously. "I'm sure we can find you a dress."
I hoped she didn't mean my borrowing her clothes. Somehow, I thought I'd never be able to get anything of hers to fit, she was so petite.
"But I don't have a date," I argued.
She winked. "Yet."
Angel looked past my shoulder, and I turned around to see Aden walking up to us. She started slipping away. "I'm going to go see if I can find Rook. See you inside."
I tried to grab her, suddenly freaked out to be left alone with Aden, but Angel just gave me a knowing smile and disappeared through the doors.
"Hey," Aden said, sounding a bit out of breath. "I thought I was going to miss you. I got tied up with my last class."
I folded my arms, feeling very exposed, and shrugged. "Angel and I are just getting here ourselves. Class ran over a bit."
Aden nodded, and we stood there while other personnel and students passed us. I looked anywhere but at him. Now that Angel had mentioned it, they all seemed to be talking about the approaching ball. I supposed I was too wrapped up in thwarting the virus and thinking about Leo to notice much of the gossip going on around me.
"Sloane," Aden said, and my head snapped forward.
"Yes?"
He smiled. "There's this event coming up --"
"The Holiday Ball?"
He nodded. "Angel told you, I see."
"Are you surprised?"
He laughed. "No." His eyes turned smoldering. "I don't suppose she also told you I was planning on asking you to be my date?"
My heart trembled, and I cleared my throat. "Um, yeah, she, uh, might have mentioned it."
"So will you go? With me?"
I searched his eyes, my mouth hanging open. After an awkward silence, I found my voice. "Yeah, sure. It sounds like fun."
Aden's entire face lit up. "Great. I'll fill you in on the details when it gets a bit closer."
"Cool. Sounds good."
We stared at each other a few seconds longer before Aden gestured toward the doors. "Ready to eat?"
"Absolutely. Starved." I wanted to smack myself. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I think of anything to say other than disjointed words?
Aden opened the door for me and we entered the hall. His hand brushed against mine, and I tried to deny the warmth spreading through me at his proximity.
Somehow, against my will, I had started to fall for Aden Knight.
After that, the rest of the week flew by and Christmas Eve was upon us. Classes still met, but they released early. I was dumping my books at my locker when Angel found me.
"Surprise!" She shoved a package wrapped in red tissue paper into my arms. "Merry Christmas, Sloane."
"Oh." I was taken aback; I hadn't gotten her anything. Actually, I hadn't gotten anyone anything because I was so poor. "Thank you, but you shouldn't have."
"Please," she said, waving me off. "It's nothing much, but I'll bet Aden will be speechless when he sees you in it. See you tonight!" She winked at me and danced off before I could inquire what it was.
I didn't dally. Though the ball wasn't until later that evening, I wanted to take as much time as I could to get ready. Thinking about my date with Aden -- my first official date ever -- made my palms sweat. I hadn't forgotten about our kiss, and the thought of being twirled around in his arms all night made my stomach flip-flop. I was still a little uncomfortable with my outfit, a modest black dress I'd managed to scrounge up enough Krillion for at a local shop. It was clearly worn, with fraying seams, but I hoped if I did my make-up and hair well enough, nobody would really notice.
Rook walked me home, jabbering excitedly about Angel and the ball that evening. Things between us still weren't perfect, but I had decided Rook was the least of my worries.
"You really like her, don't you?" I asked.
He gave me a small smile. "Yeah, I do. A lot."
I laughed. The holiday spirit was contagious. "I'm happy for you, Rook. You deserve it."
He beamed at me, and for a few precious minutes, it felt like it did before, when we were younger and the world hadn't fallen apart.
After we said goodbye, I raced upstairs to get ready. I was used to dressing up for my mom's events, and was actually pretty good at applying make-up and doing my hair. Though I preferred jeans and tshirts, "dressing to kill" was sort of a specialty of mine, as I'd had plenty of practice.
I found myself growing anxious as I entered my room, eager to dig into Angel's present. I set the package on my bed and tore away the tissue paper. My jaw dropped. It was an evening gown made out of flowing ruby red gauze. The material gathered at one shoulder and dropped to the floor in a form fitting flow of red rhinestone studded poinsettias. Not only was the dress "to die for," but a pair of strappy silver heels came with it, along with some teardrop silver earrings and a matching bracelet. Angel had thrown in an entire outfit.
"Thank you, Angel," I whispered in awe, lifting the dress from the destroyed tissue paper.
Feeling incredibly excited, I hung it up and jumped into the shower, making sure I shone by the time I got out. I dried and styled my hair into long barrel curls that framed my face. My makeup was a little heavier -- I had applied silver eye shadow and ruby lipstick for dramatic effect -- but I looked glamorous and not cheap. After pulling on some underwear, I slipped into the dress. It fit like a glove, showing off my small waist while flaring out slightly around the hips. It was soft and the material moved gracefully. The shoes I was a little more anxious about, but after putting them on, I found they weren't nearly as scary to walk around in as they looked. After placing the jewelry on my wrists and ears, I gave myself one last once-over in the mirror before starting down the stairs.
My first few steps were wobbly as I adjusted to balancing my weight on the spindly heels. I clutched the banister, just to be safe. The last thing I wanted was to break an ankle.
Aden was already at the door, decked head to toe in black military finery. The uniform was similar to the other one he often wore, only he looked more like a prince than an officer. His head turned and I swore his jaw dropped.
"Wow," he said, blinking. For the first time since I met him, he looked genuinely stunned. "You're a vision."
I smiled, enjoying the peach hued blush staining his cheeks as I came to stand beside him. Seeing him up close, I had to admit he looked devilishly handsome, pale as a specter against the sleek black fabric of his jacket. The combination was striking.
"You don't look so bad yourself," I said with a wink.
He wriggled his brows. "Just wait 'til you see me dance."
I laughed as he offered me his arm. Mrs. Knight appeared from the kitchen, decked in a flattering light gold ball gown. "I'll see you there," she said, smiling brightly. "Go easy on the champagne, Aden."
He looked at me and rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother," he said politely, and I stifled a giggle. Mrs. Knight left, and he raised a brow. "Ready to celebrate?"
"You mean, am I ready for a night of slightly drunken revelry? Yes, please."
His eyes sparkled with -- affection, maybe? -- as he gazed at me. "I'll make it an evening to remember."
\*\*\*
"Wow," I said as we walked into the grand ballroom. "This place looks amazing."
The entire room "sparkled"; tinsel, lights, and glittery silver snowflakes hung from the ceiling, giving it a winter wonderland feel. A refreshment table ran the entire length of one wall, and the floor was covered in silver glitter. A humongous Christmas tree, decked in all the trimmings, stood at one corner. Security guards in formal military attire lined the room. Aden had told me they would be there as an added precaution, in case we encountered any more gunmen. Despite my trepidation at the shooting -- and over dancing -- I was determined to have fun tonight. For once, I just wanted to be a normal teenager again.
"They do a good job," Aden said. "My mom heads the decorating committee. And this room lends itself well to such occasions."
"Do vampires throw parties all the time?" I looked around at the polished wood floors and soft "mood lighting."
"We didn't really start 'til last year, after things had settled down a bit. Mostly, we throw events for Christmas and New Year's. And of course the base-wide Thanksgiving potluck, for those who celebrate it. It was quite the turn-out this year. You really missed out." He elbowed me slightly, and I playfully shoved him back.
"The plate you brought me was good," I said, remembering the sky high pile of food I'd found in the fridge the next day. "I bet the potluck was a great success, with your mom organizing it and all."
"She did a good job," he said, smiling. "Actually, Mom's usually in charge of all the parties. She really works at creating a sense of family around the base."
"No kidding," I murmured. I was all too aware of Aden, as we were linked arm in arm. All day long, my stomach had threatened to take flight with all the butterflies hovering in it, a sensation that was amplified now that we were actually here.
Aden sensed my tension. "Just relax," he murmured, his breath tickling my ear. "You have nothing to be afraid of. You look gorgeous."
"That's not what I'm worried about," I muttered back. I was used to being in the spotlight. Being a Sovereign's daughter, especially one as famous as my mother, meant many days spent being filmed or photographed. Even now, heads turned to look at us, their faces awestruck.
"What is it then?" Aden asked. "Why so tense?"
I pressed my lips together. "It's the first official date I've ever been on," I admitted.
Aden looked amused. "Technically, it's our second date."
My head snapped around. "Where was I on the first?"
"With me, at the diner and arcade."
"That doesn't count."
"Sure, it does."
I punched him lightly in the arm. "Not if I didn't know it was a date, goofball!"
He chuckled, pulling me closer to him. "Fine, then. If it means so much to you, it wasn't a date. Satisfied?"
"Maybe," I said, giving him a coy smile.
Soft music floated through the air, provided by a real chamber orchestra sitting off to one side. The atmosphere was regal, like something from the 1800's.
"Care to dance?" Aden said as a waltz flitted through the air.
I swallowed hard. "I don't know how."
"It's easy." He took my hand and guided me to the dance floor. "I'll show you."
Nerves rattled me as he positioned my free arm along his shoulder, while clasping my other hand in his own. "Don't think," he said. "Just follow me." Then we were off, turning to the lilt of the tune.
At first, I was concentrating too hard on my own motions, making them stiffer and more awkward. Aden gave me a disarming smile. "Relax." I felt him push his glamour on me, draining the tension from my muscles and calming my frantic mind. It still felt odd, feeling someone else's influence inside my head, but it worked. I stopped thinking, and before I realized it I was floating along as if I had waltzed my entire life. I laughed, relishing the freedom of motion. "This is kind of fun!"
He grinned. "I knew you would like it."
The waltz ended, and the audience clapped their appreciation to the orchestra. I actually felt a little dizzy and breathless, not because I was physically winded, but because it was surreal, like something out of a fairy tale.
"Thirsty?" Aden asked.
"Sure!" I said, smiling. It was the most lighthearted I had felt in days, no, make that years.
I haven't been this carefree since Orion vanished.
"I'll go grab us some drinks," Aden said. "They make some killer holiday punch."
I stood on my tiptoes, trying to get a clear view of the table. "They're not serving blood, are they? I mean, the punch isn't spiked?"
"Nope. You'll find with us -- meaning vampires like you and me, and not Rogues -- blood is a necessity and not a delicacy. It's just awesome punch."
I sighed inwardly. "All right, then." While I knew I needed blood to survive now -- that I would crave it -- I still wasn't keen on the idea of drinking it.
"I'll be right back." Aden leaned in and kissed my cheek. I flinched at the feather-light touch of his lips, not sure how I felt about the gesture. Aden didn't seem to notice my tension. He smiled at me and walked away, weaving through the crowd toward the punch bowl line.
I sighed, cheeks flaming. It felt wrong to be enjoying myself with Aden right after Leo had declared his love for me, had kissed me so passionately...
Right before I bit him.
I groaned. It's not your fault. You didn't hurt him.
My face saddened. That may be true to some degree, but I had also irrevocably severed our friendship, or whatever it had been. That made me the saddest of all, knowing things could never go back to being the way they were before.
I am a vampire. I must accept that I belong here.
"Sloane!"
I looked up, following the direction of the bell like laughter. Angel and Rook were spinning together on the floor. I had to admit, Rook looked pretty damn good in his uniform. I could tell he was having the time of his life, holding Angel in his arms. She looked like a storybook princess. Her gown was one of those poofy, pink lace and silk numbers, complete with a tiara, which was barely visible in the mess of golden ringlets piled atop her head. Her cheeks were rosy, and her petal pink lips were spread into a wide grin. She was giggling as Rook spun her round and round, his affectionate gaze glued to her radiant face. She waved at me and I waved back, smiling at them as they spun by.
"Well, well. Looks like Cinderella made it to the ball after all."
The voice slithered over my skin, and a bolt of fear and loathing cut through me.
Ugh. Not now!
I turned as Dezyre -- wearing a flowing, skin-tight black dress -- stumbled toward me. She was clutching a champagne flute to her chest, which threatened to spill onto her plunging neckline at any second. She might as well have been wearing nothing. On anyone else, the outfit would have looked completely slutty, however, Dezyre somehow managed to look sophisticated and sexy. Her hair was pulled back to one side, and massive diamond chandelier earrings dangled from her ears. Her eyeliner was dark and it looked like she had eyelash extensions on; her eyes, though beguiling, looked like they belonged on a Kewpie doll.
I could feel my muscles knotting up as she approached, bumping patrons out of her way. I hadn't seen her since the incident in the mess hall, when she'd "ratted me out" as a vampire hunter. Aden told me that Frost had ordered Dezyre not to come near me.
Guess that restraining order is being breached.
Anger burned in my chest. The scars from being chained in Scarlet Steel served as a constant reminder of what she had done to me, something I didn't think I'd ever be able to forgive her for.
I glared at her. "If I'm Cinderella, then you must be one of the ugly stepsisters. Can I help you?"
Dezyre didn't respond to my dig. She teetered on her six inch stilettos, grabbing hold of my arm to steady herself. I stood stone still, an angry frown on my face as she looked me in the eyes. Or, at least, she tried to. She couldn't quite seem to focus on me.
She's drunk.
"I wanted to tell you congratulations," she slurred, wobbling. The drink sloshed around in the glass, nearly spilling out.
My brows furrowed. "Why?"
"For winning Aden over. Bravo." She brought her hands together, trying to clap with the glass suspended between two fingers. "I was his date last year, but he cast me aside like spoiled goods. That's what he'll do to you, too, once he gets his way with you."
My gaze faltered.
Huh? What is she talking about? My eyes widened and I sucked in a tight breath.
Did Dezyre and Aden have sex?
I blushed, thinking about it. Sure, I knew how it worked, but I had never been so into a guy before to even consider going that far. Hell, I had never even been on a real date until now. I knew a few girls at my old high school slept around, but I definitely wasn't one of them.
Looking into Dezyre's eyes, I could see the hurt buried within.
She still loves him, I realized with a start.
I took a deep, calming breath. "Dezyre --"
She shook her head, almost like she was trying to shake something out of her ear. "Spare me your apologies. My revenge will come when he does the same to you."
She shoved the drink into my hand, letting go before I barely had hold of it. "Here. Have a drink, on me." Then she stumbled away, muttering something about how off her glamour was tonight, and how she couldn't even get any hot guys to bring her a drink.
I stared into the contents of the glass, seeing my puzzled face in the rosy liquid. That was weird.
"Sloane..."
Something whispered my name, as if standing right beside me. When I whirled around, there was no one there. I blinked, feeling somewhat sluggish all of a sudden.
What's going on?
I gazed into the glass, noticing a faint smell, like spices, coming from the liquid. Feelings of love and security wrapped themselves around my mind like a cocoon, tugging at a memory I couldn't reach, as I slowly raised the glass to my lips, eager to drink.
"Yes... drink it..."
My thoughts went numb as the edge of the glass touched my bottom lip.
"SLOANE!"
A boy screamed my name right before the glass was knocked from my grasp, shattering on the floor.
My mind immediately cleared, and I snapped out of the haze, blinking rapidly. A strong arm looped around my waist as I staggered.
"What... what happened?" I asked, placing a hand to my clammy forehead. "What was that?"
"Poison," Aden hissed beside me.
"What?"
I looked down, spotting the remnants of the champagne flute. The liquid had pooled into a crater that had formed in the middle of the floor.
At first, I thought I must be seeing things. But the more I blinked, the more I realized the crater was really there, and an ice cold chill swept through me. I took a quivering breath.
The liquid -- whatever it had been -- had literally melted the wood.
Within seconds, security had cleared out the party and Aden hauled me out the doors, accompanied by an entourage of guards. Déjà vu hit me as flashes of the mess hall disaster went through my mind, only this time the patrons were much calmer, evacuating the area as if it was a drill.
"What happened?" Rook barked, coming alongside us.
"Someone tried to poison her," Aden said, looking at me. "Who gave you the drink?"
"Dezyre," I replied. "But she seemed... off, like she wasn't quite herself. I don't know how to explain it, but it was weird."
"I'm going to see if I can round her up," Aden said. "Rook, look after her for me?"
"Sure thing."
Aden gave me a grim smile before breaking off from the group and circling back around. "Where are we going?" I asked Rook.
"To Aden's place. The base will go into lock down, but we think it's best to move you in case the killer's still here."
"Do you really think Dezyre was trying to kill me?" Despite the fact she was definitely jealous and hated my guts, I didn't think she was so desperately in love with Aden as to stoop to murder.
Rook shook his head. "No. I don't think so, anyway. She's always been a bit... dramatic and difficult to deal with sometimes, but she's not that stupid. She has too much going for her to jeopardize her career like that."
To hear them speak of it, Dezyre must be able to work medical miracles. But if she hadn't poisoned the drink, then who had?
Come to think of it, I hadn't seen Paris tonight. Maybe she had found out I'd run away, and decided to take me out. Either way, death had come for me twice now, and I had somehow evaded it.
All because of Aden. He saved my life again.
Maybe he did actually care about me. Or perhaps he had saved me because I was too valuable a pawn to lose.
Either way, I may have outwitted death multiple times, but how long could I really outrun it?
\*\*\*
We waited at Aden's place, all huddled together in the living room with a mess of guards outside. The entire apartment had been decorated for Christmas, though considering the circumstances, it felt anything but cheerful. I sat beside the Christmas tree, the light from which caught the sequin in my dress, casting little red balls of light around the room. Over an hour and a half passed before Aden finally arrived.
"Well?" Rook asked, standing. "What did you find out?"
Aden sighed hard, his face troubled. "When we questioned Dezyre, she didn't seem to remember ever talking to Sloane. Paris tested the liquid and found it had been glamoured."
"Wait," I said. "You can glamour an object?"
Aden nodded. "Yes, if you're powerful enough. But I don't know of any vampires who possess that much control over glamour to pull off such a feat." He looked at me. "Except for you," he added quietly.
I blinked. "Then who was it? I certainly didn't try to kill myself."
"I don't know," Aden said, growling. "But I'm pretty sure Dezyre is innocent. Paris suspects she had been glamoured by whoever gave her the glass."
"No one saw anything?" Rook asked.
"No," Aden replied. "I thoroughly questioned every witness. They all say they didn't notice anyone suspicious, although one girl said she saw Dezyre go into the bathroom carrying a drink and that she was in there for a long time. When she came out, she went straight to you." He pointed to me, and I frowned.
I leaned forward, rubbing my eyes. This whole situation made my mind spin. I was so tired of all this crap. Why couldn't people just leave me alone for one night and let me at least pretend my life was normal?
Aden studied me. "You look exhausted. You should rest." He nodded to the others, and they started filing out. He stopped Rook at the door. "Keep at least ten men posted outside," I heard him whisper. "I'll let you know if anything else develops."
"As will I," Rook said, nodding. "Merry Christmas, man."
"Yeah, Merry Christmas," Aden said dryly, closing the door. Once we were alone, he sighed and turned around. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" I asked softly.
I watched as Aden sat down on the chair across from me, the Christmas tree lights casting a soft glow on his face. "For everything," he sighed. "I'm especially sorry for turning you and pulling you into this mess."
I studied him. "Why did you change me?" My words weren't angry; more than anything, they were curious.
There was a long pause as he stared back at me. "Because I needed you."
My eyes narrowed. "As a pawn?"
"Perhaps at first," he said, hiding his eyes. "Before I got to know you. Before I..."
I waited, holding my breath, but he didn't finish the thought. Instead, he rose and knelt next to the tree. "I got you a present."
My eyes widened. I hadn't expected him to get me anything. Considering all that had happened, swapping gifts was the last thing on my mind.
"You didn't have to," I argued as he sat down beside me and placed a red package in my hands. It felt slightly heavy, and the wrapping had an odd shape to it.
He didn't say anything, though something shifted in his eyes as I began unwrapping the gift.
I gasped. There, in my lap, was Leo's Scarlet Dagger.
I gaped up at Aden, his expression unreadable. "Why?"
"Because," he said simply, "you may need it before this is all said and done."
I looked back down, unable to believe what I was seeing. I ran my fingers over the sheath, as if to make sure it was real. "Thank you. This means a lot to me."
I didn't know what I had expected, a necklace, or a sweater maybe, but not this. It was the best Christmas present I could have received.
"I'm glad," Aden murmured.
I met his eyes, and the background seemed to fade away as we looked at one another. Slowly, he leaned in, lips parting.
"He'll do the same to you when he's had his way with you."
I turned my head right as he was about to kiss me. His lips brushed my cheek, and I felt him tense slightly.
"What is it?" he murmured.
I shook my head, not meeting his gaze. "Nothing. I'm just tired, is all." I rose, holding on to the Scarlet Dagger. "Thanks again. Um, Merry Christmas, Aden."
He looked surprised, but quickly gave me a small smile. "Merry Christmas, Sloane."
I smiled back and nodded once before heading up the stairs, feeling the weight of Aden's gaze at my back.
Once in the solitude of my room, I changed into a tank top and some sweat pants, and crawled into bed, resting the dagger on my lap. Carefully, I slipped it from the sheath and stared at the red metal.
Fear ran through me, ingrained into my nature from having tasted the metal's bite twice now. Little over two months ago, this dagger had meant something completely different to me. What had once been a symbol of strength and hope now stirred up memories of suffering and pain.
I shuddered, thinking of all the vampires the government must have experimented on while developing this weapon. Though the Rogues were destructive and -- to be honest -- probably deserved to die, they had also once been human. I couldn't exactly put how I felt into words; it simply felt wrong.
The dead faces of the extremists, wrapped in their red robes, flashed through my mind. They were no different from me, save for the fact they were a little crazy. And I had killed so many of them without a second thought. What had happened to me since I'd been down here? Sure, I had always enjoyed a good fight, but I had never, ever thought of killing someone.
And I had done so with a smile on my face.
It made me sick at my stomach. What's happened to me? Do I even know who I am anymore?
An inky darkness stirred at the back of my mind, a warning, and I was suddenly overcome with the sense that the horizon of my life would grow much darker before I saw a sliver of light. It scared me, badly. Abating my fears, I shivered, rubbing the goose bumps from my arms. Casting one last lingering look at the dagger, I sheathed it and sat it on my night stand before curling onto my side, my eyes fixed on Aden's gift.
A gift, as it turned out, that had proved to be more of a curse than anything else.
I wasn't allowed to leave the apartment for the rest of the week. Tons of extra security had been stationed outside. I rarely saw Aden after our awkward exchange. He was always "working on something at the base" or "helping Paris out with a top-secret project." Truthfully, I was thankful for his sudden absence. I had enough to deal with in figuring out who was trying to kill me.
Though the base was technically on holiday, I couldn't bring myself to just settle down and relax. Too many stray thoughts drifted through my mind, a constant stream of activity that refused to be laid to rest. I wandered from my room to the kitchen and bathroom, the only stops on my monotonous daily routine. Being cooped up had never set well with me. Somehow, I always managed to feel guilty for doing absolutely nothing, like I was being lazy and should be working on something. I suppose my whole family had that in common, the work-a-holic syndrome.
Angel dropped by once, to check in on me. But even she didn't seem to be her normal, cheerful self.
"It's unreal, isn't it? All that's happened lately..." She was sitting across from me, staring forlornly at her hands. It was New Year's Eve, and I was home alone. Despite the trouble at the Holiday Ball, Frost insisted upon throwing their 2 Annual New Year's Eve Celebration. Mrs. Knight had left for the base earlier to oversee the decorations, and Aden hadn't been home all day. Though I wasn't ready to admit it out loud, I was really starting to miss his company.
I took a sip of my iced tea. "Yeah, it's been pretty crazy."
Angel looked adorable. Her hair had been done up, and she had on a cute black cocktail dress with tall black boots. Seeing as it was nearly 9 p.m., I assumed she had been on her way to the party. I was a little disappointed at having to ring in the New Year alone, but under the circumstances, I guess I should just be thankful to be alive.
Oh, well. At least one of us will have some fun tonight.
"You look great, by the way," I said, smiling. "Another date with Rook?"
Angel shook her head, staring into her glass. "No. He's on guard duty tonight. At the party, that is. I'm just going to mingle for a little while, then probably head home."
"You don't sound very excited," I remarked quietly.
She sighed hard. "I have a lot on my mind."
I frowned. That sounded very heavy for carefree Angel. "Like?"
Her pink lips spread into a small smile. "It's nothing." Her face paled slightly as she suppressed a cough, and I narrowed my eyes in concern.
"What is it?"
Angel set her glass down on the coffee table. It was still over halfway full. Now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen her take more than a sip or two. "I should get going," she said. She stood and wiped her palms against her dress.
I rose with her. "Okay. Uh, have fun at the party."
She stopped at the door. "Somehow, I don't think that will be possible," she muttered softly. She turned her head as a violent cough erupted from her throat, rattling her entire body. When she started to open the door, I put a hand on the frame to block her path.
"Hey," I said softly, trying to get a good look at her face. "You sure you're all right? You're white as a sheet." I mean, Angel had always been pale as porcelain, but her complexion was a little blue tinged.
"Yeah. I just have a bit of a cold, that's all." Her voice trembled as she spoke. Then she took a deep breath and looked up at me, a bright smile on her face. "Don't worry about me. I'm going to be just fine."
I quirked a brow, but didn't argue. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
I stepped out of the way as she opened the door and stepped outside. "You, too." Though the smile remained on her face, her eyes saddened. "Goodbye, Sloane," she whispered.
I watched her leave, not closing the door until she disappeared from sight. Frowning, I leaned against the door. That was strange. I hope she's not too ill to be out.
Maybe I was overreacting. I did have a tendency to read too much into things. If Angel said it was nothing, it was nothing. She was probably just acting weird because of her cold, that's all.
I was about to walk away when someone loudly knocked. I walked back to the door, thinking maybe Angel had forgotten something, and peered through the peephole.
It was one of the guards -- Nathaniel, I think his name was. He was a colossal man; I almost couldn't see his face through the hole, he was so tall. My brows immediately knitted together when I caught his expression. It was pinched, like he was anxious for me to open the door. I wondered if something was wrong. What if the killer had come for me?
"Ms. McAllister," he boomed, knocking loudly. "I need you to come with us, now."
Fear racked my body. So something was wrong.
Without thinking it through, I jerked open the door and stood face to face with Nathaniel. He was teetering, and his skin was covered in sweat.
An eerie sensation crawled down my arms and legs as I sniffed the air, which smelled faintly metallic. The slightest trace of spices threaded through the draft blowing on my face.
Nathaniel's face twisted in pain. Before I could ask, his eyes locked with mine.
"Run," he whispered.
Then he fell over, stone cold dead. A knife protruded from his back, shining red with his blood. I blanched at the color of the blade.
"Scarlet Steel," I breathed.
There was a rustling to my left, and my eyes snapped up as two men dressed entirely in black grabbed for me, their faces covered with black ski masks.
I immediately went into the offensive, knocking away their hands and spinning around, clipping both of them in the jaw with the heel of my boot. They fell back as three more men came at me. I backed away, retreating into the interior of the apartment. A flurry of shots rang out and I dove over the couch as it was torn to shreds by the machine gun.
"Stop shooting, you idiot!" one of the men cried. "He wants her alive!"
He? Who the hell was he?
The smell of spices clung to their clothes, the same smell I had picked up on in the lab and on the glamoured drink. The puzzle pieces clicked together in my mind, and I could've smacked myself for not making the connection sooner.
Nero. The Emperor had sent these men to kidnap me. Which also meant it really was Imperial Guards trying to shoot me at the arcade. It had been Nero all along.
I gritted my teeth, feeling my fangs elongate. Well, they can try to take me. No way am I going without a fight.
The moment the firing ceased, I sprang toward the gunman. I was faster -- so fast, I surprised myself -- as I caught his arm and hyper extended it. His bones snapped as he dropped the gun, crying out in pain. Snatching up the weapon, I nailed him in the head with it as hard as I could. He collapsed, unconscious.
"Get her!" someone shouted.
I raced for the kitchen, careening into the cabinets as I flung open the knife drawer. Footsteps thundered toward me. Whirling around, I hurled one knife after the other as the men came through the doorway. Blades embedded themselves in their chests and foreheads, spraying blood along the wall. When I ran out of knives, I grabbed the biggest fork I could find and launched myself at the final man blocking my way. When he first saw the fork, he laughed --
Right before I shoved it into his open mouth, so hard the prongs dug into the back of his skull. I slammed my palm upward, catching him in the chin and busting several teeth as he flew backward, landing on the dining room table. The legs broke under his weight, and he toppled to the floor in a bloody heap.
I panted as I looked around. Though the apartment was empty, I would be foolish to believe the fight was over.
The Scarlet Dagger.
I rushed upstairs, taking them two at a time, and burst through the door of my room. There it was, right on the night stand where I had left it. Just as my fingers closed around the hilt, the door slammed shut behind me and I turned, unsheathing the dagger. A handsome man who looked vaguely familiar stood there.
Shock ran through me. "You're one of Aden's men." I glared at him. "Does Aden know you double-crossed him?"
He cocked his head to the side, a smug smile on his face. "We all have our parts to play in this war, princess. Mine is done, now that Nero has you."
"He doesn't have me yet!" I growled, charging.
I grossly underestimated my opponent. He dropped before I could ever lay a finger on him and plunged something sharp into my shoulder. I cried out, stumbling backward.
The man rose, grinning. "I win."
The world fell away and I collapsed to my knees, patting along my shoulder for the needle buried in my skin. I ripped the dart out, hurling it into the wall. As I sank to my side, I glared at the man. My head slammed against the floor as he walked up to me, blurring in and out of my vision.
The last thing I saw was him lowering a blindfold to my eyes.
\*\*\*
I hissed as the strip of duct tape was ripped from my mouth, leaving my skin feeling raw. The blindfold followed shortly after and I groggily looked around.
I was seated in an elegant wooden chair, with my hands tied off with rope behind my back. My feet had also been bound, and a long length of rope had been wrapped around my chest several times, forcing me to sit up straight.
Rope I can stand. At least it's not Scarlet Steel.
The room around me was massive. Two of the four walls were completely made of glass, which overlooked a dark "skyline" of glittering lights and small fires, while the other two walls were made from a dark wood. A gigantic fireplace blazed in front of me, so large ten of me could stand in it, side by side. A simple desk with a pitcher of water and a few glasses stood off to one corner, and the floors were checkerboard burnt orange and brown tiles. A stately grandfather clock with gold Roman numerals stood sentinel in the corner, its pendulum ticking away what was sure to be the last few minutes of my life. A rug made out of some animal's hide stretched out before me, while Carl Orff's Carmina Burana played on an old record player in the background. Spices burned my nostrils, so strong and heady I could taste the cinnamon and cloves on the air.
Nero. I must be in his office.
And I was completely alone.
I kicked and struggled against my binds, but it was no use. All I succeeded in doing was getting rope burn.
A door creaked open behind me, echoing around the room, followed by the click of heels. A few seconds later, someone jerked my head down. "His exalted Excellency, Emperor Nero," the man announced. "You will bow in his presence."
I saw the polished tips of men's dress shoes step in front of me, and I spat on them. The man behind me yanked my head back and smacked me hard across the face. I blinked, stunned, then laughed.
"He may be your emperor," I hissed. "But he is not mine."
"Actually," said the garbled voice, "you'd be surprised how closely you and I are related. Sister."
That last word sent a chill through me, and my eyes rolled down to see a young face severely marred by scars. I recognized his voice from the lab, when I overheard him speaking to Paris. The spice scent -- almost palpable, it was so strong -- finally jarred a lost memory from the recesses of my mind:
It was the night of our first formal high school dance. We were sort of using it as a celebration, since Orion's acceptance letter for Winchester Thurston had come earlier that day. My brother turned to me in his collared shirt and slacks, smiling. "Well, sis, how do I look?"
"Pretty good, bro," I beamed. "You'll have to beat the girls away with a stick."
"Well," he said, looking me up and down. "That makes two of us. Only, you'll be beating away the boys, or rather, I will."
I laughed as our father called from downstairs. Excited, we bounced down to the first floor and paused on the porch long enough for him to take our picture. I sidled up to my brother, smelling his cologne.
Cinnamon and cloves.
I smiled up at him, full of pride and love.
All the air left my lungs in one giant whoosh as my gaze found a pair of hauntingly familiar brown eyes.
"Orion," I whispered.
The rest of the world faded away, leaving only my brother and me. "You're alive," I whispered again, still not believing it. "I thought... how?" The records, Aden's testimony; they all had led me to believe that Orion had been viciously murdered. And yet, somehow, I knew without a doubt that it was truly my brother standing in front of me, smiling sardonically and not looking a day over fourteen.
His intelligent eyes sharpened, drinking me in. "Leave us," he said, nodding at the guard. He released his grasp on my hair and I fell forward. I heard him walk away, and a door closed. As far as I could tell, my twin and I were alone.
Orion paced in front of me. "I was saved by a guardian angel," he explained calmly. His voice sounded like broken glass, so distorted I almost couldn't make out what he was saying. Judging from the twisted scars around his jaw and neck, the Rogue had almost ripped his throat out. "By a shot of luck -- or perhaps by some cruel twist of fate -- the Rogue left me alone to die, once it had gorged itself on my blood. As you can see --" he gestured up and down his sleek black business suit -- "I am lucky to be alive, a walking, talking miracle."
"So someone found and changed you? Who?"
"I did."
The floor dropped out from under me for the second time tonight as Angel, all made up for the party, walked into the room. Like a dog that's afraid of being struck by its owner, she meekly walked up to my brother. Tears shone in her eyes as I gawked at her. "I'm so sorry, Sloane," she said. "But he made me promise not to tell you."
Orion stroked her hair, looking upon her with all the affection of a favorite pet. "My faithful companion. My guardian... Angel." He whispered her name, and she blushed under his gaze right before she covered her mouth as another cough shook her body.
My mind was completely blown. Angel had changed my brother into a vampire. She had known the entire time he was alive, and yet, she hadn't told me. I would have been angry at her if I wasn't so shocked at seeing my brother alive to begin with.
"But you can't be... all the records said you were dead," I stuttered, looking at my brother.
His lips twitched into a smirk. "Records can be tampered with. As can the truth. You'd be surprised what you can accomplish with a little added power and persuasion."
He practically purred on the last word, and what color I had left drained from my face. "You sent the poisoned drink. You're the one who glamoured Dezyre."
He shrugged. "Once I learned for certain you were down here, I knew it was only a matter of time before you found out about me and... my little experiments. Those needed to remain a secret, as did my identity. I trusted Angel, but you? No, you would give everything away. I needed you gone. But killing you, unfortunately, hasn't proven to be as easy as I thought."
Hurt ran through me. "But I'm your sister," I whispered. "I went into the Red Sector to look for you."
"Three years too late!" he shouted, making Angel jump. "You abandoned me!"
"I wanted to look for you, but I couldn't!" My voice broke with a sob. "Dad got really sick right after the Eclipse, and I had to look after him."
Orion's eyes flashed. "Yes, I heard the old bastard finally croaked."
I stared at him, unable to believe this creature in front of me was my twin. "What have they done to you, Orion?"
He laughed. "Nothing, really. On the contrary, this place has given me everything. To them, I am their god."
"You're a killer," I spat.
He pursed his lips. "Vicious words coming from someone who has now killed at least ten people -- no, excuse me -- vampires." Venom dripped from that last word, and I thought I saw his eyes flash red. "We really are twins, you and I, to our violent, bloody cores."
I remained silent, glaring at him with growing fury. "It was easy, rising to power," he said. "So many of the vampires had been lost, abandoned by the world to a disease they didn't fully understand. Like a savior, I shepherded and cared for them, helping to build all that you see here." He swung his hand out at the city below. "Naturally, they made me their king without question." His eyes darkened. "A perfect position for what I intended to do."
Angel had turned away from us, walking to the desk and pouring herself a glass of water as her coughs grew rougher.
I glanced at her for only a second, mildly curious, before returning my attention to my brother. "Which is?" I snapped.
He walked toward me, slowly and deliberately. I cringed as he bent over, his mouth hovering beside my ear.
"Revenge."
My eyes narrowed. "I know about your virus. Killing all the humans isn't the way to win this war."
Orion looked at me, briefly confused. "Who said anything about killing the humans?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm not upset with the humans at all. On the contrary, I applaud their efforts to take us out. Scarlet Steel is a most amusing weapon. No, dear sister," he said, straightening. "I intend to eradicate the vampires, to rid this earth of their plague forever."
My brows furrowed. "The virus is meant for the vampires? How is that even possible?"
His smile sent shivers through me. "With my blood.
"You see, when Angel first brought me to Paris, she noticed something strange about my blood. She keeps a record of blood types, for the purpose of blood transfusions between vampires. Oddly enough, she said mine reacted differently to other blood types. According to her, I didn't have a blood type anymore; instead, my blood cells attacked and killed any other cells they came into contact with. At first, she tested it on humans. Oh, don't give me that look. They were all bums pulled from the street, or patients suffering from a fatal disease, destined to die anyway." He waved his hand in a dismissing manner, as if this excused his atrocious actions. "The result was always the same, a quick, albeit painful, death. I wondered how it would work on vampires, so I studied her methods and conducted research of my own before coming up with a serum that would literally destroy a vampire within days. Paris, of course, had already done most of the work for me. All I had to do was tweak her mixture to make it deadly to vampires. I think I'll call it The Red Death."
He paused as Angel hunkered over, coughing so hard her eyes had started to water. "First, there's a cough," he said softly, circling her like a hawk eyeing its prey. "Then, as the internal organs begin to literally melt, the victim starts vomiting blood."
Angel fell to her knees, gripping the edge of the desk. Her throat and chest made a gurgling sound when she coughed now, and I winced as she opened her mouth and spit up. Blood and drool dribbled from her lips, dripping to the floor. She wiped at her mouth, her eyes widening as she stared at her hand.
"What's... happening... to me?" she said, sounding broken and anguished.
Orion bent down, combing back her hair. "You're sick, my love. That's all. Soon, it will all be over with."
She stared back at him, pleading with her eyes. "Please, help me."
He smiled, cold and inhuman. "I already have."
I watched, growing sick at my stomach. "You did this to her."
He looked at me like I was mad. "I couldn't very well test this out in the open, could I? I needed to conduct a private experiment. So I set up my lab and convinced Paris I was in it 'for science.'" He smiled down at Angel. "And my precious Red Death is as beautiful as I hoped it would be."
I tasted vomit. "How does it spread?"
"It's airborne," he said simply, "and very contagious. One drop of saliva floating on the air is all it takes."
"If it's so deadly, how come you and I aren't sick?"
"Ah, now there's the gold in this whole operation. You see, as the original carriers, we are immune, so to speak. But you, sister, are so much more special than that."
I stared at him. "What do you mean?"
There was a knock at the door, and Orion walked over to his desk, pushing down on what appeared to be an answering machine. He talked into it, and someone responded.
"Let him in," I heard Orion say.
The door opened behind me and someone walked up to us. "Ah, there's my greatest creation yet. Sloane, I trust you've met each other?"
Confused, I turned my head --
And my heart nearly stopped.
No... no, anyone but him.
Aden watched me, his expression hard, before turning and kneeling before my brother. "My Lord," he murmured, placing a fist over his heart.
"Rise, Captain Knight," Orion said. "You've done well. Although..." He glanced at me. "I'm curious as to why you would go to such lengths to protect her. I thought my orders were perfectly clear: Once you find her, gain her trust and then bring her to me. When you didn't comply, I had to resort to my own measures to ensure her silence." His tone took on a dangerous quality. "Why did you defy me?"
Aden appeared indifferent. "It would seem a waste to go to all this trouble acquiring such a gem only to kill her before her true potential had been discovered."
By the desk, Angel had fallen completely on her side, sputtering pleas for help into a pool of blood. Aden nor Orion paid her any attention, but seeing her -- despite the secret she had kept from me -- made what was left of my shattered heart swell with pity.
An odd look crossed Orion's face. "Yes, perhaps," he murmured, stroking his chin. His dark eyes flickerd back toward me. "The fly still fell into the spider's web in the end."
I felt an excruciating pain in my chest, like my heart was being ripped in two. I glowered at Aden. "So you were working with him all along?"
"Yes," he said without hesitation, staring me in the eyes. They were empty and emotionless.
"Aden was eager to serve when I met him, as full of rage over the vampires as I was," Orion said, smiling. "He was my equal, a kindred spirit."
My eyes widened. Orion turned Aden.
"When I discovered my blood's capabilities," Orion said, "I wondered if my twin would possess such a gift, if turned. So I sent Aden back to the surface to find you."
"That's why you were in my house, the night we met," I said to Aden.
He never flinched, cold as a statue with his hands clasped behind his back. "It seemed as good a place as any to start looking," he replied somberly. "I couldn't believe my luck when I saw your birthmark."
"The Mark of the Creator," Orion drawled. "Ah, the exquisite legend of the vampire king. Our dear parents have been keeping a great secret from us, sister." His voice hardened. "Especially our pathetic excuse for a father."
Rage boiled within me. "He adored you. How could you say that? He worked his ass off for us!" I shook my head, exasperated. "I never could understand why you always sided with mother."
"Because we were two sides of the same coin. You had Dad, I had Mom. Guess I should be thankful to him, really. Without his monstrous heritage, I never would have been able to get as far as I have today."
"Dad was not a monster," I said, voice low.
"Really? Think about it, sis. All the night shifts, how he rarely spent any time out in the daylight --"
"He was exhausted," I argued, cutting him off. "He worked fourteen hour shifts. Of course he was going to sleep during the day."
"What about his temper?"
I tensed. As good a man as my father had been, I had tried my best to block out the times when he completely lost it, hurling things around the house as if possessed by an unseen force. "He was human. Everyone's been guilty of losing it every now and then," I stuttered, trying to sound strong despite my doubt.
You believed the best in both Angel and Aden, and look at where that got you.
I stared at the floor. "You think our father was the one who passed the strain down to us."
Orion shrugged. "It's possible. Too bad he's dead. I'd really love to test his blood."
"What did you mean earlier?" I asked. "When you said my blood was special?"
Orion's eyes sparkled. "I had my theories, but I couldn't know for sure what your blood was capable of until I tested it. Though my subordinates failed at capturing you, they did manage to get a large enough sample of your blood from the gunshot wound."
I ran through my memories of the arcade, when I had been shot. I remembered fire ripping through my shoulder, right before I slammed into the wall. They must have taken the sample from the bloody smears I had left behind.
"I had hoped your blood would empower mine, making the virus even stronger than it already was," Orion said. "But I was so, so wrong. I never could have imagined what it would do."
I waited. "What? What happened?"
Something close to awe spread over Orion's face. "Your blood has the power to destroy the virus. A cure, as it were."
"A cure?" I repeated.
"Quite. My worst fear had been realized -- a way for my intricately laid plan to fail. I knew if anyone knew what I was really up to -- what you're blood could do -- I would lose an entire year's worth of hard work. That's why I sent the poisoned drink."
Then his glamour abilities must be as strong as my own.
I thought of what Orion had said, about the first vampire and our unique attributes. What if the stories were true? What if we really were descended from the ancient vampire king?
Aden remained perfectly still as Orion walked over to the window, gazing out over the city.
A city he was about to destroy.
"Midnight," Orion sang. He removed a small device from his jacket pocket. "That's when it will all come to an end. When I press this button, thousands of capsules will launch, filling the air with my perfect poison. And the vermin known as vampires will finally pay for what they did to me."
I couldn't fully blame him for being bitter. His scholarship, his bright future... all of it was gone now. I felt the hatred and rage burning off of him.
"It doesn't have to be this way," I said.
"Oh, no, Sloane," he said, turning to look at me. "There is no other way."
I shivered -- it was the first time he had called me by my name. Something twitched from the corner of my eye. I looked at Angel, now so lifeless she might as well have been a corpse. Aden seemed undisturbed by this. Wasn't he aware that once the virus was released, he would die, as well?
I looked at the grandfather clock. It was thirty minutes until midnight.
"Come, my trusted friend," Orion said, beckoning Aden forward. "Together, we will watch the dawn of a new era."
Aden slowly moved toward Orion.
I fought against my binds again, wanting to scream. How the hell could Aden just stand by and let this happen? His mother, everyone we knew and had fought for... they would all be dead within a few days if we didn't stop the virus. And if it somehow reached the surface, then the human race would suffer, as well. I was literally about to the watch the beginning of the end of the world... again.
Movement caught my eye as Aden reached inside his pocket, slowly removing a gun from his jacket and pointing it at Orion's head.
Hope and fear flooded me. While Nero was a monster that deserved to die, he was still my brother.
Orion looked confused. "What are you doing?"
The barrel was only a few inches from his forehead. I couldn't see Aden's face, though I could hear the malice in his words. "One of your boys dropped this, the night they tried to kill Sloane. I thought you might want it back."
Understanding unfolded on Orion's face, and he smirked. "You're in love with her."
My breath caught in my chest. Could it be true? Had Aden really been looking out for me all along?
"It's time I set things right," Aden said. He cocked the gun, and I gasped.
Orion. My twin.
"Wait!" I cried, but it was too late. Aden had already pulled the trigger.
The gunshot rang through the air, and time stopped as I watched the Scarlet Steel bullet sail toward my brother.
Quicker than Death, Orion dodged, and the bullet shattered the window behind him. Aden swore as Orion flipped back his jacket and drew a Scarlet Steel sword. Orion's eyes were wild and murderous. "You forget who you're toying with. I am a god!"
Aden barely had time to react as Orion swung down hard. Using the gun as a shield, Aden deflected blow after blow, staggering back under the weight of Orion's fierce attacks.
I fought to break free, feeling my skin burn against the rope, as Orion kicked out, sending Aden flying into the desk. Aden's eyes rolled back in his head for a moment while he struggled to his feet, but by then Orion was already upon him. Aden rolled out of the way right as the sword came down, biting into the desk so hard splinters flew through the air.
I was so focused on the fight that I nearly screamed when a clammy, ice-cold hand clamped down on my wrist.
"Angel," I gasped.
Her cheeks were sunken in, as were her eyes, which were blood red and full of agony. Her skin was so pale it was translucent; I could see the network of blue veins running beneath the surface. Her other hand twitched at the corner of my vision, and my eyes widened. She was clutching a small knife.
Gritting her teeth, she began sawing away at the binds around my feet. I looked up as Aden threw a punch, only to be blocked by my brother. Orion flung him back with a maniacal laugh.
I felt the rope around my ankles loosen, and I pulled my legs apart, snapping the rope. Angel immediately began working on the binds around my wrists, though she had to grip hold of the chair to retain her balance. She looked awful.
My eyes flickered back to the brawl. Aden was starting to look winded. His nose was bleeding and set at an odd angle.
"Hurry, Angel!" The doors rattled behind us as the security guards tried to get in, but the doors wouldn't budge.
Aden must have locked them when he came in.
At last, the rope fell away from my wrists, and I took the knife from Angel's grasp right as she collapsed in a fit of coughing. I furiously hacked at the rope around my chest, breaking it within seconds. Free, I knelt next to Angel, cradling her head on my lap.
"Hang on," I said, brushing her bloodied bangs from her forehead. "Please, don't die on me."
"Sloane," she rasped. My heart sank. She sounded so weak. "I'm... so sorry."
I shook my head. "Don't worry about that. I forgive you."
Aden cried out, and I heard something hit the floor and slide toward me. I glanced up to find the gun laying a few feet away.
The light in Angel's eyes dimmed. "Save... him."
My eyes narrowed. "Who?" I wanted to ask, but her head sagged and she was gone. I bowed my head briefly, saying a prayer for her, and fixed my eyes on the gun.
At the same time, Orion knocked Aden's feet out from under him. Aden's head struck one of the windows hard, smearing a trail of blood on the glass as he slumped to the floor. Orion pointed the tip of his sword to Aden's heart.
Staggering to my feet, I grabbed the gun and raised it.
"Orion!"
He froze, rendered immobile by the sound of his true name. His eyes found mine in the window, and he smiled at my reflection, muscles coiled to deliver the final blow to Aden.
Orion's voice was icy. "Can you do it? Can you kill your own flesh and blood? I don't think you have it in you."
I took a shaky breath, determined. "That may be true. But I'll do anything to protect the ones I love."
I heard Aden gasp softly at the word "love." Orion turned around and held open his arms, the sword dangling from his fingertips. "Do you not still love me? After all we've been through. After all you put me through."
Guilt stabbed at me as he referenced the night we entered the haunted house, the night I abandoned him.
I shook my head. "It wasn't my fault."
"It was your idea. And I paid the price."
"And I'm sorry for that." My voice grew stronger. "But I've also learned to accept the things I can't change, and to forgive myself for the past. Your fate was out of my hands." I squeezed my eyes shut; when I opened them, my gaze was steely. "And you chose to let your rage devour your soul. No, Nero. You are no longer my brother."
Flames from the fireplace blazed in Orion's eyes, throwing shadows over his scarred face. As his eyes turned red, he truly looked like a demon from hell. His lips twisted over his fangs in a vicious smile.
"Then you shall die with your beloved."
The next series of events happened all at once, speeding by in the blink of an eye and yet still somehow in slow motion. Orion whirled, raising the sword in an arc that would sever Aden's head. Aden's eyes widened as the sword lowered and I called his name, squeezing the trigger. The bullet shot out and struck home, slicing all the way through Orion's chest and creating a crater in the window. I raced forward and leaped, kicking Orion hard in the back and sending him flying. He dropped the sword, crashing through the window as I landed on top of Aden and shielded his body from the glass raining down around us.
I heard Orion's cry as he fell, mixed with the pounding of my heart and Aden's heavy breathing. We laid that way for what felt like hours, before Aden finally stirred. I sat up, scanning his body for any more wounds. "Are you okay?"
He groaned, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Trust me, it looks worse than it is."
I helped him stand, and we peered over the ledge. At first, I thought my eyes might be playing tricks with me, or maybe it was some side affect from all the adrenaline pumping through my body. But as my eyes scanned the ground, one thing became perfectly clear.
My brother's body was nowhere to be found.
My eyes flew to the clock. It was only ten minutes until midnight now.
"We have to get you out of here," I said, pulling on Aden's arm. "Before the capsules go off."
"I wouldn't worry about that."
I looked around as he lifted the button device from his pocket. "I managed to wrench it away from Nero before he got one over on me."
I sighed hard, feeling marginally relieved. "We should still look for him. Do you really think he could survive a fall like that? Plus, he was shot with Scarlet Steel."
"I wouldn't underestimate your brother," Aden murmured darkly. He pulled out what appeared to be some sort of cell phone, and punched in a number. After a few seconds, I heard someone answer. "We got the controls," Aden said, "but Nero got away. Have a crew search the lower end of the Capitol building and the surrounding area."
He ended the call, and I cocked my head to the side. "You changed me to protect me from my brother, to make me stronger, faster. And so you could test my blood," I added quickly.
Aden stared back at me, intense and silent.
"What were you really doing in my house that night?" I asked.
His eyes searched mine. "I was looking for clues to defeating Nero. Once I learned of his plan, I knew I couldn't sit by and let it happen. He thought -- hoped -- your blood would prove equally lethal, but nothing could be further from the truth."
"But you didn't tell my brother you had found me, at first."
Aden shook his head. "No. Paris knew what he intended to do, so she secretly tested your blood against an infected version of mine, trying to unlock its secret before he did. She had suspected it might counteract his blood, but we didn't know for sure until we tested it.
"Though she tried, she couldn't get a direct sample of Nero -- er -- Orion's blood. So we went with the next closest thing. Our theory was that because he had made me, my blood should have enough of his to properly test your blood against it."
It made perfect sense now. "All the times I thought you were giving blood... you were just helping her find the answer."
Which also means Paris is one of the good guys.
Aden nodded, and he grimaced. "Unfortunately, we never discovered what your blood could do, until now, that is. For some reason, your blood wouldn't counteract the virus if directly injected into my blood. Orion must have tampered with it to come up with a cure."
Aden's phone chirped, and he quickly answered it. "We should evacuate the city," Aden said. "In case Nero made another control to launch the virus."
Someone said something on the other end and he hung up. "They found your brother. They're taking him in as we speak." His expression was troubled, brooding. "We'll have to keep this quiet. The people here practically worship him as a deity. To them, he's the savior that brought them out of the darkness."
"I'm sorry, Aden," I suddenly said. "For what Orion's done to you."
Aden smiled, wistful. "I don't regret it," he said, caressing my cheek. "It led me to you."
I flushed right as his throat shuddered and he turned his head, coughing softly into his sleeve.
I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," he said, though I noticed his face had gone a bit paler. "Just something in my throat, that's all."
He smiled at me and I smiled back, though my eyes subconsciously wandered to his sleeve. I squinted.
There, so small they were barely discernable, was a splattering of tiny red dots.
Blood... Aden's blood.
END OF BOOK ONE
Will Sloane be able to save Aden's life?
Find out in the second epic installment to The Red Sector Chronicles:
DARK HORIZONS
Coming January 2012
Writing a book really is a group effort, and I had a lot of wonderful people help me out along the way. Thank you to my awesome beta readers Marysa, Scarlet, and Tobias for helping me flesh out the story and giving me invaluable advice on how to make TSD a better read. Also, thank you to the ladies of my critique group, Julie, Renee, and Gina, for helping me figure things out in the earlier drafts. And last but certainly not least, I'd like to thank you, dear reader, for buying this book. Thank you for taking a chance on an unknown author, and helping make one of my dreams a reality.
About the Author
Krystle Jones was born and raised in the small, southern town of Tullahoma, Tennessee. Reading and writing have been lifelong passions of hers. In addition to being a novelist, she is also an award-winning flutist, and moonlights as a voice actress. Her voice can be heard in the popular online game, Alice is Dead 3.
A Note from the Author
Hello and thank you so much for reading, The Scarlet Dagger! I hope you enjoyed it. If you liked this story, then I invite you to check out some of my other titles, which are listed below. Also, please visit my site to sign up for my free email newsletter to stay up-to-date on new releases, contests, giveaways, and more! You can opt-out at any time, and it is completely spam-free. Frequency of notification is approximately 1 email every 1-2 months.
More books by Krystle Jones:
Veiled Innocence, Book One of The Soul Cycle (available now for only .99!)
A White So Red, a gothic retelling of Snow White (available November 2011 for FREE!)
Connect with Krystle online
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The Scarlet Dagger, Book One of The Red Sector Chronicles
Kindle Edition
Pesante Press
Copyright © 2011 Krystle Jones
All rights reserved. The author has worked very hard to bring you this story. That being said, please do not redistribute this ebook without purchasing additional copies. Thank you for your understanding and support.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Krystle Jones
Table of Contents

