The Sanguine Door

by Genevieve Grey

  When I stepped outside, light rain wet me. The miserable weather made the dilapidated houses look even worse. I wasn’t fooled. The houses in Dunlap were spelled to look ransacked, but each was almost an impenetrable fortress. Appearances were always deceiving here. Even though I changed my hair, I had no doubt word of my return would spread like a virus through the city. If I stayed too long, my past would surely catch me.

  The house looked almost the same as it did the last time I visited. The yard surrounding the skinny green shack was filled with mountains of scrap metal and trash. I took a calming breath. My hand pressed against the cool warding that stretched almost to the edge of the yard. It buzzed under my fingertips with an energy that was as jittery as its owner. Wesley wasn’t powerful enough to erect strong wards and he was too paranoid to have someone else perform the work.

  For a moment they were visible, then a spider web of cracks emanated from my hand. It crumbled like a wet piece of paper. His alarms started blaring inside the house. I took a leisurely stroll to the front door, taking my time. He would be waiting to set off one of his piddly bombs. My gait shifted into something once familiar. The innocuous persona I had crafted in Ka fell away, and in its place slid something predatory. It was like I had never left the city. I drew blood and spread it across the rune tattooed under my collarbone. The thin shield sprung to life under my attention, it took a lot of energy to sustain. Defensive Magic wasn’t natural to me, I rarely used it.

  “Wesley my dear, it's me,” I spoke in a sing-song voice.

  A potion bomb came flying from the upstairs window and rebounded off my shoulder before exploding in the front yard. It looked like Wesley had gotten stronger. I ripped off my hat and glasses trying to see which window the rat was hiding in.

  “You know that won’t work on me. Come open the door for your dear old friend.”

  Two more potion bombs flew from the window, each bouncing harmlessly off my shield and exploding in his yard. He would burn his house to the ground if he continued.

  “I'll call the Elect,” he shouted from behind the door.

  He was bluffing and we both knew it.

  “I have money Wesley. Just let me in.” I hesitated as I reached the front door.

  “How much?”

  “If you don’t let me in, I’ll break down your door.”

  He huffed and opened the door a sliver.

  Before he could slam it in my face, I rammed through into his cluttered living room. Wesley was a hoarder. All types of technology took up every space in his tiny house. His spindly arms held a gun at me as I surveyed his living quarters. The weapon was a surprise, he had obtained some powerful friends. Good on him. Guns had been outlawed many years ago by the Elect. They were outrageously expensive on the black market, even more so than dampening charms. Even if you could afford a gun, the metal made your bones ache. You couldn’t touch one for long. I had held one once, and vowed to never touch another again. Vamps wouldn’t go within fifty meters of them.

  “That's no way to welcome an old friend,” I drawled.

  His face blanched as I gave him a predatory smile. “You're no friend of mine,” he spat in my direction.

  I moved quickly, hitting the weapon from his unsteady hands and drawing my knife. A thin line of blood appeared where the blade kissed his skin. This close, I could see the sweat on his forehead. His pupils dilated even in the fluorescent lights and he smelt like week old garbage.

  “Why don't you take a seat and we can both get what we want?”

  He gulped, but nodded. I had tried to be nice to Wesley when we had first met, despite everyone’s warnings against him. At the beginning, he had betrayed me to whoever had paid him a visit next. It had nearly gotten me killed on more than one occasion. Wesley shuffled toward the single clear chair, looking back at me every couple of steps. Once he was seated, my knife disappeared back into my jacket.

  “I need a new identity, kill the last one. I’ll pay you ten grand and give you an extra five to put on the dat band,” I said.

  That would use up most of my remaining cash stores, but it would be worth it. Wesley was one of the best forgers in the game, when his brain wasn't fogged with illegal potions. He was a junkie, but he made great dat bands and he wouldn't rat me out to the Elect. He had created an identity for me when I had left. I prayed that he was still lucid enough to give me what I needed now.

  “Okay.” He shivered and looked at me with full blown terror on his face. Guess my reputation still holds. “I’ll need some new photos.”

  He ushered me to the other room and I shook out my hair. The room had a green wall with an expensive-looking camera in front of it. It was the cleanest room in the house by far. I stood in front of the camera as he clicked away. After about five minutes I was told the documents would be ready for me to collect that night.

  “I’ll leave your shit at the Barfly. You can't come here again. Destruction follows you like a curse Imelda.”

  “That’s not my name,” I hissed. “If it comes from your mouth again your kneecaps will be a part of my healthy, balanced breakfast.” I rested my hand on his cheek and ran my ring gently across his skin. He nodded stiffly.

  I left his house, dumping the cash by the door. It wasn’t long before I was back at the motel and dumping my things into my backpack. I had laid out a large map on the bed.

  When I had left Dunlap, I thought to hide in plain sight. I had run to the very city the Elect commanded. Now it was too dangerous. I had no doubt my face would be on every news blast available. Just another opportunity for Elect propaganda. I was an out of control Blood Mage who had committed murder. It was my luck no one in Dunlap paid any attention to the Elect’s most wanted list, probably because half the population was on it.

  My options were limited. I could go stay with Lucia, she would help me but her protection would come at a price. I would have to return to the pits. I didn’t want to return there but I couldn’t hide in Dunlap forever. Eventually the Elect would decide to wade through the slums of the city to find me. Dammit, I needed to go underground. I checked the time again, only 6pm. Too early to get the documents.

  I returned to the map and searched for my next home.

  I couldn’t go back on the portal. Bounty hunting was out of the question and I didn’t want to return to mercenary work. I had barely escaped with my sanity the first time. My Magic had eaten away at my soul, destroying all the good parts of it. The last two years with Loral had resurrected some of the bits worth saving, but it would be too easy to slide back down into the dark abyss and give in to the tantalising pull of power once again.

  I scrunched the map and threw it to the ground. There was no third option for me. I had no good plan for what I would do next. I could sell Joe’s potions for some extra cash to tide me over, but it wouldn’t last. Besides, I had too many enemies waiting for me to pop back on the radar. I ran the bath to boiling and lowered myself into the steaming water. The tension I had been carrying seeped out into the water. The feeling chased away the panic that had wormed itself under my breast bone, at least for the moment.

  I stayed until the water ran cold. In the fogged mirror I could see the brown of my hair was already starting to look auburn. It curled wildly now that it had no length to weigh it down. I didn’t look anything like myself. My beloved dagger went into an stiff sheath strapped to my thigh. The knife and my mother’s necklace were the only things I would allow myself to keep.

  I placed my distinctive rings into the metal trashcan along with anything else people might have once associated with Arina Bluebell. Before I could change my mind I swiped my blade against my finger pad and set them alight. Without a second glance I left the motel room with my stiff backpack holding the entirety of my life.

  The exterior of the Barfly was familiar for all the wrong reasons. A long forgotten feeling of helplessness seeped into my bones and made my knees weak. I hadn’t been back here since I had first arrived in the city at 10. It wasn’t a place I
had ever wanted to visit again. This week had gone from bad to shit.

  I was no longer a vulnerable child, I had made sure of that.

  I strode into the standalone building without looking back. The bar itself wasn’t particularly intimidating, it was the same as all the bars in Dunlap--sticky. Only a few people were scattered around the interior. The night was still young.

  “I'm here for Wesley.” I leant over the bar and lowered my voice.

  A sturdy man eyed me and slid a plain envelope across the counter. I peeked in at the contents. Inside sat a new shiny dat band, the replica looked good enough. There would be no way to test it in Dunlap. I would have to trust Wesley. A scary thought.

  “Who would I see if I was after some information?”

  The barkeep nodded at a skinny looking boy sitting on the far end of the bar. “That's the spider.”

  “Thank you.” I slid a few notes across the table.

  The bar tender gave me a sly smile. “You're not half as mean as Wesley made out.” He might reconsider if he knew who I really was.

  I slid over to the skinny boy. He looked no older than fifteen. Batting my thick lashes, I leant over toward him.

  “Hi, I’m…Lola.” An awkward second passed as I thought of a name. Lying use to come so easy. I was out of practice. He seemed unamused by my tactics.

  “What do you want to know?”

  I dropped the facade. My usual hard expression settled on my features. “I need to know about the rebellion.”

  “That will cost you.” He hadn’t looked up from his meal since I had engaged him. He slurped loudly on his soup, his blonde hair hanging limply over his eyes.

  “What do you want?” I grabbed for my dwindling bag of coins.

  “Not money. I trade in secrets.” His voice was rough with age, a strange juxtaposition to his unmarred skin.

  “I have money.” Sweat beaded at the nape of my neck. He giggled, a child-like sound, and pushed his empty bowl away.

  “I don't need money. I want to know your secrets.” Clouded, unseeing eyes turned to face me. I stumbled back. He was no child.

  “I don’t have any secrets.” My voice was strained. He nodded and turned back toward the bar.

  “Everyone has secrets, girl, but I will settle for your name.”

  I leant close to his ear. He smelt of soap and lavender. “A.”

  “The baby-faced killer.” He flashed his crooked smile. “It is one of your names, but it is not your true name.”

  Names had power, but I was out of options.

  “Imelda.” The word burned as they left my lips.

  It had been many years since I had uttered the words now I had heard it twice in one day. He showed a small satisfied smile as he peered into nothingness. I didn’t like it.

  “I also want to know about the bounty for the Blood Mage in the Elect.” I peered over my shoulder to ensure no one was listening.

  “That will be extra.”

  “Fine,” I snapped. “What other secrets do you want from me?”

  “Who ordered the hit on Samson James?”

  The words stunned me. The job was so long ago and I had worked hard to blot it from my memory. It gave me the final push needed to leave for good. Fuzzy bloody memories turned crystal clear in my mind. The job had sent a message and cemented my reputation once and for all.

  “You want me to break my oath?” My voice was strained and I closed my eyes to try and forget the bloodlust that had once roared within me.

  “Yes.”

  “You will tell me everything I wish to know.” I meant it to sound threatening, but desperation leaked from my pores.

  “Of course.”

  I no longer lived by the code. The secret held little importance to me. My life was forfeit anyway. Still, it hurt to say the name.

  “It was Alpha Giovanni himself.”

  “I see.” He was positively smug now. He turned to face me with a grin.

  I was too long out of the loop. The information was probably worth more than I had bargained for it.

  “You wish to know about the Bounty for the free Blood Mage in Ka?”

  I nodded. His voice had taken on a hushed tone and I struggled to listen over the noise of the bar.

  “What is the price?” My heart hammered in my chest.

  “One million credits.” An icy shiver ran down my spine. “Although the bounty is not open on the Portal yet.”

  I had a few days more if my details weren’t public.

  “Why?”

  “The Elect has decided to send their Hunter. I heard he knows her, that they had worked together before.”

  No.

  I struggled to regain my composure. The Hunter had seen me, he knew what I looked like. How had they discovered my identity so fast? Someone had given me up. Was it Loral, or Erin? The list was short. It was hard to imagine any of my friends forsaking me. I banished the thoughts, they would only slow me down. It didn’t matter now, the only thing that mattered was getting out of Dunlap alive.

  “The rebellion, where do I find it?” My words were clipped.

  “Galway.”

  “How do I find them?” My frustration had turned to anger and my voice was as sharp as my knife. He seemed to ponder for a moment, I wanted to throttle him.

  “They are having a meeting in four night’s time, in the old library of the broken city.”

  That was the best I was going to get. It would have to be enough.

  I muttered my thanks and slipped from the bar. My new band was too shiny on my wrist. I found a transport and paid him with the rest of my cash. When we pulled up at the bus stop I scrunched the piece of paper with two words handwritten on it.

  Lilith Johnson.

  Another name. It was hard to keep track of them all.

  The departure board was crude, there were not many buses leaving the city. Galway was a big city on the sea, it had once been a shifter run city before the Elect had overtaken it. It was picturesque, a city to showcase the benefits of Elect rule. It was hard to imagine they would find much support among the people who had once lived there. The bus station was mostly empty and well outside the confines of Dunlap. This was the first of the Elect’s checkpoints. If I couldn’t pass here, I was screwed. The woman behind the counter looked bored as she stared off into the distance.

  I prayed that Wesley had done a good enough job on my dat band. There was a very high chance that his brain was too fried to perform any good fraud.

  “I would like to be on the next bus to Galway.”

  “Twenty five credits.” I lifted my arm into the scanning area. It blinked green twice.

  “Thank you very much, Lilith. Please enjoy your trip with us.” The sarcasm dripped from her voice. I doubted very much I would enjoy the trip.

  The next bus to Galway wasn't leaving until the next morning. A few weary travellers were perched on the rows of chairs with bags and blankets. I found a place out of the way to sit down. I watched the stop with an exhausting intensity. The Hunter was after me. It wouldn’t be long until they gathered a crowd to watch my head be separated from my shoulders. The hands racing around the clock face wasn’t helping my rising panic. I paced the dirty linoleum and tried desperately to think of ways to escape my upcoming demise.

  When the bus arrived it was empty. I squashed myself in one of the last rows. The journey would take about eight hours and I couldn't remember the last meal I had eaten. My stomach grumbled in protest. The squeal of the breaks pulling away was interrupted by a pounding on the door. The driver reluctantly stopped and a man stumbled into the bus out of breath. I eyed him.

  His eyes and hair were light, as if he spent a lot of time outdoors. He was clean shaven and looked much too pure to be from Dunlap. The glares the rest of the patrons gave him, indicated they thought the same. I sunk lower into my chair and closed my eyes pretending to be asleep. Through slit eyes, I watched him toss his bag on the seat across from mine and sit down in the aisle row, seemingly unbothe
red by the looks from the other passengers.

  Finally, the bus continued.

  He was causing far too much noise trying to make himself comfortable and I dropped my sleeping charade to openly glare at him as he rustled loudly with a bag of noisy food. The sun had barely risen.

  “Want some?” He held the bag out over the aisle toward me. My stomach growled loudly. I shook my head. He shrugged and placed them beside him. As he bent over his backpack to retrieve more noisy food, I reached over and snatched the packet from beside him and slunk back into my corner. He laughed at me, which was better than any alternative. The driver had turned up the radio to mask the obnoxious eating sounds. I crushed the packet in my fist. Even the propaganda over the radio was preferable to his munching.

  He sat with his back against the window and faced me.

  “I’m Judas.” I closed my eyes again, “The bus rides going to be awfully long with no one to talk to.”

  His pestering knew no end.

  “My name is Lilith.”

  I said with my eyes still closed. Hopefully if he realised how boring I was, he would leave me alone.

  “Lilith, what brings you away from the beautiful city of Dunlap?”

  His sunny demeanour didn’t belong here, amongst the downtrodden and mean.

  “I needed a change in scenery.”

  He scoffed, like there was a joke I wasn’t clued in on. My eyes itched from the day old make up and the hunger pangs in my stomach had only increased.

  “I haven’t seen you around the city, what part are you from?”

  “I’m not from Dunlap, just passing through.”

  We continued the conversation in mostly the same way, he asked me questions and I gave vague answers with no follow up. Eventually the lack of sleep got to me, and I couldn’t bother to speak anymore. I fell into a light, uneventful sleep.

  When I woke, the roads seemed to become less bumpy and better maintained. There would be no stopping until we got to the city.