I thanked him and rushed out the door, unable to stand the smell any longer. I shuffled through the corridors, making my way slowly back to the room. I needed a shower to soothe my sore muscles. Training could only calm me for so long. There didn’t seem to be a solution for my restlessness. I couldn’t destroy the rebellion faster than the collar would destroy me.
In the tiny room the Hunter and I shared, the lumpy mattress on the floor was made to within an inch of its life, courtesy of my roommate. Even the crude stack of pillows we took turns sleeping on looked presentable. He had made us a rudimentary closet and both our clothes were folded and organised against the front wall. The fact he had touched my clothes creeped me out. I didn’t want to imagine him touching my lacy underwear. It looked like we had settled in for the long haul.
If I’ll be alive for the long haul…
I banished the thought. I had gone through too much to die now.
Still, it was easy to huddle on the floor of the shower, close my eyes and pretend the world didn’t exist for a little while.
“Lilith?” the Hunter called out tentatively, breaking my trance, “Are you okay?”
So many names and none of them felt like they belonged to me. I turned off the water and wrapped myself in a giant towel.
“I’m fine.” I threw on my only pair of track pants and one of my thin singlets. I only had what I managed to grab from my apartment. Loral had to give me some of his clothes to sleep in. The Hunter stood in the threshold.
“Your hair.”
“Loral dyed it again,” I rubbed the wet curls with my towel and sat on the bed. He had finally got it back to its natural colour.
“It looks …nice”
I almost choked on my tongue. The compliment sounded like it held razors as it came out of his mouth. The Hunter sat on the bed beside me and we waited in awkward silence until I couldn’t stand hearing the leaky tap drip anymore.
The collar had made me neurotic.
We had barely spoken three words to each other since we arrived. I needed to get this over with. I was tired of being trapped underground.
“What are we going to do?” I turned to face him, crossing my legs. We were sitting much too close. I tried not to telegraph my discomfort. I couldn’t seem to bring back my easy confidence.
“We gain the groups trust. A few people are still uneasy with our presence.” He didn’t look up from the book he had picked up from the bedside table.
Disappointment made my lip curl slightly. This was going to take much too long. The longer I got to know these people, the more it would hurt to help the Elect destroy them.
“The Doctor stitched my hand.” I felt a strange, desperate need for personal interaction. I was going stir crazy avoiding everyone.
It felt like I hadn’t spoken more than five words to anybody except Judas. During my time in Dunlap, I would spend months without interaction. Now I couldn’t stand even a few days.
Over the last few weeks the Hunter had morphed back into the lamb. He was charismatic when he wanted to be, and all the women swooned over him. He acted like he was oblivious, but I wasn’t dumb. He didn’t bother to keep up the charade around me.
“There’s another Blood Mage that usually lives here,” I blurted out. I’m not sure why I hadn’t told him earlier. “Everyone likes her.”
I sounded like a teenager trying to persuade her parents to like a new boyfriend. Pathetic.
“I know. You should meet her, perhaps gain some information.”
I nodded slowly.
“When did you find out you were a Blood Mage?” He turned a page, but I could hear the interest veiled behind feigned nonchalance.
I paused, contemplating how much to tell him. “I was five. My parents were Blood Mages.”
“That’s unusual?”
“Very.” I wanted to tell him more about them. Strangely he was the only person I held no secrets for. “My parents were murdered by enforcers when I was ten.” My voice was steady, as if I was reading a recipe or instructions. The violence that bathed my life after their deaths had allowed me to gain some distance.
He finally looked back up from his page, almost sympathetic. The flash was gone as quick as it came.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was low. I had expected him to refute my claim. I didn’t know whether it was better or worse that he hadn’t defended their actions.
“They slaughtered them. My parents never used their power to hurt people. They didn’t even use Magic to fight back when they came. The enforcers eviscerated them. If I wasn’t hiding in the pantry, they would have killed me too.”
No one knew this story. I had buried the memory deep and had not consciously thought of it since. Sometimes my mother’s haunted green eyes popped up in my nightmares, but usually I was good at blocking the memory of her out. The Hunter rested a hand on my shoulder. I stared at him hard.
His hand slid back to his side.
Loral appeared in our doorway at just the right time. He eyed the Hunter and me approvingly. “Let’s eat.”
I followed him out into the kitchen. I was desperate to forget the heavy conversation and my mother’s pleading emerald eyes. I could have used a bottle of liquor.
Chapter Eight
The dining room was filled with easy conversation and boisterous laughter that continued through the meal. We both needed to gain favour. A small group of people were leaving to get supplies in the morning. The Hunter had volunteered, but Loral insisted that it was too dangerous to leave me here alone in my ‘current state’. He didn’t like to talk about my lack of Magic or impending death and I found that it suited me just fine.
The next morning I was disappointed to learn Judas had left. I hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye, he had slipped out before breakfast. I had half expected him to leave a note, but our last interaction had ended frostily. The thought of gardening wasn’t as appealing without his easy smile and stories of adventure.
Instead, I mumbled to Joanne that I was feeling ill and shuffled back to my room. The emptiness in my chest paired with the cold mattress didn’t make for a relaxing environment. My eyes closed, but I couldn’t sleep.
“Arina,” the Hunter barked from the threshold. He never called me Lilith when we were alone. I peeled open one eye.
“I know you’re not asleep. Did you want to train?”
I yanked the blankets and shot up from the bed. It sounded like the perfect distraction. “Fine.”
The training area was empty, everyone was busying themselves with morning chores. It was the only perk of being collared, I seemed to be exempt from any chores I didn’t want to do. It seemed the Hunter was also excused. I took the centre of the room and begun stretching. My muscles ached from overuse, but at least my hand was feeling slightly better. Dissociation nagged at the edges of my consciousness. I needed to be moving, less it take over again.
The Hunter stood to one side, hands clasped behind his back. Stalking toward the weapons rack, I grabbed a staff and threw one at him. His eyebrow quirked as he snatched it out of the air.
“I’ve never seen you use a staff before.”
I thought I had seen him skulking around the training room. Stalker.
“I’ll have the advantage then.”
There was no more talking.
I thrusted toward his mid-section and he batted me away. Frustrated, I feinted the same thrust before swinging the staff toward his head. The Hunter jumped back out of the way just in time. He rolled his shoulders and relaxed into a more comfortable stance. We began trading blows, our staff meeting over and over. My limbs felt as if they were moving through jelly.
There was no time to think. One wrong move would cost me. The loud smacks that echoed around the room were interrupted only by the sound of my heavy breathing. The Hunter struck out at me from above, leaning over to force me to carry his substantial weight. My muscles twitched under the force of his much larger body. The only strain I could see from him was a slight tightenin
g of his eyes. With a yell, I flung myself backwards scrambling out of his way. My back hit the mats. I had hoped he would stumble off balance, but his step didn’t falter as he stalked me down. I braced for his downward strike.
Instead, he reached his hand out toward me and pulled me up.
“Let’s go again.” He sat back into his preferred stance.
Our dance restarted. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but the asshole was pulling his strikes. He had the opportunity to hit me multiple times over. He seemed to misjudge the distance or allow me time to block. After another strike went suspiciously wide. I threw down my staff. He immediately straightened.
“Stop going easy on me,” I shouted.
“I’m not.”
“So you’re just bad?”
He winced at my words. It was the only reaction I had seen from him in days.
“If I’m slow enough to be caught, don’t pull your strike.”
“You’re not at full strength. I don’t want to hurt you.”
The bonehead was so confident in his ability to beat me. “That’s my decision to make. Don’t pull your strikes,” I enunciated clearly, spitting the words at him.
“Your funeral.” His face returned to the infuriatingly calm facade.
The Hunter threw my staff at me and we began again. He did as I asked. It was satisfying to see the surprise on his face when I caught him right in the ribs. Fire filled his eyes and he struck back, hitting me just above my knee. The pain chased away the fog in my brain. We continued, only stopping when I couldn’t continue. The Hunter stayed even as I left.
My smile came easier than usual as I dragged my battered body down to the healer’s office. Distraction was good.
He didn’t look up when I entered his tiny office.
“I have another book on runes for you. It’s an old one.”
“Thank you. Are you any closer on the incantation?”
He looked up from his work, his eyes filled with a sadness that betrayed his words. “You’ll be the first to know.”
I nodded and scooped up the battered book, my muscles aching already, “How are you feeling?”
Davis looked me up and down, assessing with his clinical gaze. Nothing would slip past him so I shrugged instead, not trusting my words. Davis stood up and begun riffling through his cabinets. He finally retrieved a small vial of green liquid. “It’ll help with the pain.”
“Healing potions don’t work.” He knew this.
“It’s not a potion.” He gave me an indulgent smile. “It’s human medicine.”
I didn’t question how he had gotten a hold of it. Instead, I slipped it into my back pocket. Before he could press further on my condition, I gave him my thanks and left.
I strode through the corridors, the hum from the generators set my teeth on edge. The compound could survive cut off completely from the outside world, the fields of crops could survive with Magic and there were underground springs that water could be filtered from. Because the Elect was still unaware of the location, there was a few luxuries allowed. But soon enough, Elect enforcers would rain down on the place, knowing every intimate detail curtesy of me.
Some of the residents still shot me glances as I passed them. They didn’t trust me, rightfully so. I was a reluctant spy. Still, I had been shown nothing but kindness. If I was a better person I would have come clean and refused to lead them to their deaths.
The only thing in my favour was that Loral had been so busy organising the next move that I hadn’t seen him much. It would have been easier for me if Loral was out of the picture. I could have almost pretended that he wasn’t involved. It had surprised me how deeply entrenched he was in the movement. It was where he had run off too all those nights.
I finally reached my room and sat on the floor, not wanting to dirty the bed with my sweat. The Hunter was no doubt still training, more machine than man.
Suddenly Loral burst into my room and ushered me out. “Stella’s finally back. She wants to talk to you.”
Stella was the other Blood Mage in the Compound. She had been out on an extended excursion. Originally it seemed exciting to meet another, but now dread filled me. The only other Blood Mages I knew were my parents, and they had been good.
It was likely she could sense what I was, even through the collar. The reward money lingered in the back of my mind. It seemed too big of an enticement to me. I couldn’t trust Loral when he told me no one would betray me. You could take the million credits and live a cushy life without a worry from the Elect. The risk was too high. If I was caught, I would be carted off and tortured for the rest of my very short life.
“Let me shower before meeting her,” I said.
When I was clean and dressed I reluctantly followed him to the dining room where a young woman sat with her back to me. Her limbs were long and lean, the muscles of her shoulder tensed as she ate loudly. Her long, black hair fell straight down her back. An otherworldly presence hung about her. I could sense her power as soon as I entered the room, it smelt like cinnamon and smoke. She looked fragile, but her power told me otherwise.
It surprised me that I was still able to sense her power. If someone had enough Magic, it was easy to sense their magical signature. The skill hadn’t been taken away along with the rest of my power. Perhaps it had less to do with my Magic and more to do with my inherent birthright as a Mage.
The Hunter’s Magic was distinctive, his power smelt like burnt vanilla, and the sweetness overwhelmed almost everything. Loral’s was more subtle. I could only sense him when he was performing greater works. His Magic smelt of fresh spring air and apples, the smell had permeated our apartment. It had taken me a while to realise what it was.
Loral cleared his throat. I had zoned out again.
“Stella, this is Lilith. I told you about her.” I had never seen Loral look so uncomfortable before. He stood a good distance from the girl.
“The collared Mage.” She whirled to face us, her eyes a deep brown. I felt captivated under her gaze. “Leave us.”
Loral shot me an unapologetic smile before slipping out of the room. Her power was oppressive and I felt the need to wiggle out from under it. Is this what it felt to be around me? No wonder I had trouble making friends. Even if other Mages couldn’t sense what I was, did I subconsciously make people uncomfortable under the weight of my Magic?
We stared at each other from across the table. Without warning, Stella grabbed my injured hand and inspected it. Her brow creased.
“This will keep getting worse until the collar is removed. It is very dangerous to have your Magic suppressed for this long. Have you had any episodes of dissociation?”
My teeth ground together and I gave her a slight nod. Her brow creased. I ignored her. There were more important things to talk about.
“You’re a Blood Mage?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you terrified of losing control?” It was the one question I needed to know. Did she live with the same fear that I did? She seemed so composed, so in command. In comparison, I felt like a frantic mess. Ever since I had met the Hunter, everything had been turned loose. I was balancing on the knife-edge of control. One push and I would be sent over the edge into insanity.
“I’m not scared of my own power. It’s my power.” She laughed as if I was asking the most absurd thing she had ever heard. I suddenly envied this woman.
“I’m a Blood Mage too.”
“I know.”
She gestured to the space next to her and I took it. Some of her calm energy washed over me and the weight of the collar didn’t feel so heavy.
“How long have you known what you were?”
“I was a teenager. Before then I didn’t think I had any Magic,” she giggled. No doubt it seemed absurd now, with the amount of Magic she now held at her finger tips.
“What happened?”
“I was out running when I tripped and scraped my knee. I knew immediately. I couldn’t tell my parents, so I left.” The sad
ness that twinged her voice was obvious.
I felt like I should say something, but the words were stuck in my throat. She continued, smiling, her emotions changing so fast it was difficult to follow.
“They were both Earth Mages. We had the most beautiful gardens in Micador.”
I hadn’t been to the city, but it was now held tightly under the rule of the Elect and all the gardens destroyed. She babbled about stories from her childhood. They were all happy memories. It was as if the fleeting sadness I had seen was a figment of my imagination.
Suddenly she paused. “Good night my sister.” She turned and sauntered from of the dining room. I sat, slack-jawed, alone at the table. I hadn’t gotten a word in. Had I done something to offend her? I contemplated following her out into the living room but didn’t want to embarrass myself.
Seeing Stella had left me in a foul mood. I could almost feel my tumultuous Magic rolling under my skin. It seemed I was the only one who struggled so much with control. As I stormed back to the bedroom, I saw the Hunter lounging on the bed. His long body was stretched out languidly on the mattress and he held a worn book in his hands. He looked at me over the top of the pages, his slate grey eyes seemed to turn to molten mercury as he drunk me in. This man was the root of my problems. I wanted to do nothing more than blast him with Magic and watch that smugness drain from his eyes. It wasn’t even his turn to sleep on the mattress.
He was like a lion laying in the grass, waiting for his prey. Men like him had always leered, as if I were a meal to be devoured. They found out sooner rather than later that I was poison. When I met his gaze, he didn’t avert his eyes. He met my anger head-on. Why would he turn away? His giant ego suffocated the room. The Hunter had never once second guessed himself. He had never felt panicked insecurity.
I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my pants. The zip was deafening in the tiny cave-like room. I peeled the leather from my body. He shifted on the bed. It was satisfying to see how he watched me. There was power in seduction, it was how a lot of my targets had ended up dead. Men never seemed to be able to think once your shirt came off. I stepped out of my pants.
The Sanguine Door Page 10