The Sanguine Door

by Genevieve Grey

  A sad laugh left my mouth before I could stop it. I would never forget the look on the crowd’s face as I marched in. Lucia had said that it was the first time she had seen me smile in eight years. “I fought for a year and made enough money to leave. My reputation from the pit preceded me and I fell into mercenary work. I was called many things in the pits but baby-faced killer was the one that stuck. No one knew my real name so they whispered about me in the shadows. I worked for whoever paid the most. My only loyalty was to myself and I wasn’t picky with my targets.”

  He was still gently tracing shapes on my open palm. I spat the next words. “I told myself I would do one or two jobs and leave this god forsaken city, but I didn’t leave.”

  I waited for his repulsion. It never came. I ripped my eyes from the night sky and met his equally dark gaze. There was a deep well of sadness behind the marble of his eyes, one I couldn’t understand. I had expected disgust, even hatred, but not this soft emotion.

  “The fighting pits are no place for a child.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. I beat them back. Had he not heard what I said?

  “I chose to stay. I liked the killing. It was the only thing that made me feel alive.” My words were a blade I wielded against my target. I wanted him to hate me as much as I hated myself.

  Luka didn’t flinch as the words found their mark. Instead he leant close to me. “I know what it’s like to be numb to anything but the adrenaline.”

  I shrunk back as I recognised the emotion shining in his eyes—compassion. I could almost believe he understood the addiction, the ultimate power trip. He was so close. His scent of burnt vanilla invaded my senses and his power caressed me. It was almost a physical touch.

  “Maybe we should find a more productive hobby.” My voice stammered. Before I could flee, his hand closed around mine.

  “Stay.”

  I hesitated, frozen in place for a moment too long.

  “Forgive me. I forget myself.” He dropped my hand like it had burned him.

  The formality in his voice stung. I left the room, careful not to look back. The door took my weight as I closed it behind me.

  My bag was sitting beside Loral’s snoring body. I quickly changed out of my boots and jeans and tried not to think about the feel of Luka’s calloused hand in mine.

  Loral had spread out on the bed, the covers pulled tight under his body. I perched on a corner of the bed Loral had not taken up. It wasn't like I hadn’t shared a bed with Luka before. There had been many nights in the compound when I had collapsed into the bed next to him.

  This felt different. Both of us had shared things not easily spoken of it. It was too intimate. I tried to crawl up next to Loral, but he hadn't left me any space. The air conditioning was freezing and my muscles cramped in protest. At least that’s what I told myself as I hopped off the bed and opened the door to the bedroom. Luka was still laying in the middle of the bed and he remained motionless as I shuffled over to the side. If I ignored the laser-like attention of his power, I could almost pretend he was sleeping. The sheets were scratchy as I quickly slipped beneath them.

  I lay on my back, eyes fixed to the ceiling. Luka’s body radiated a familiar heat. It was oddly comforting. His hand slithered out and touched mine. He entwined our fingers, and the burden of my odious past suddenly didn't feel so heavy.

  Chapter Sixteen

  We’d been set up.

  It was meant to be a simple transaction. We had the potions, they had the money. But now I was staring down the barrel of a gun. The werewolf holding it had a mean snarl on his face. He didn’t seem to know who he was pointing the weapon at.

  We had arrived at the meeting in good faith and they had pulled weapons. They wanted the goods, but weren’t willing to part with their cash. Luka looked surprisingly comfortable with the gun aimed at his chest. It made me wonder how many times he’d had it happen.

  Poor Loral didn’t look at ease, he clutched the duffel bag like a shield across his stomach.

  “Gentlemen, this is no way to treat a lady,” Luka drawled. He had shuffled so his shoulder was slightly in front of mine, blocking half my body.

  Sniggers rose from the pack.

  “You’re no lady.” The cool metal from the butt of the gun poked me in the chest, the smell of the enforcer’s breath hit me with full force. It smelt like rotting meat. Some of the members without weapons had partially shifted, sharp claws sprouted from their hands.

  “We had a deal,” I spat. The brute snarled in response.

  His yellowing teeth came way too close to my face. “Give us the bag.”

  “No.” Luka’s voice was deadly calm. There would be no negotiating.

  Beside me Loral was shaking like a leaf. I would have to take out the man holding him hostage first. I really didn’t feel like getting shot.

  Before the wolves could get shooty, a wall of fire rose between us and the pack—courtesy of Luka. I unsheathed my daggers and crouched into a fighting stance. I didn’t trust my magic after the incident with Judas. It would be just as likely that I would kill Loral and Luka in my rage. I tightened my fingers around the cool hilt of the blades. Knives it was.

  Luka’s control was extraordinary to watch. He held the wall and hurled spheres of blue flame through it. I had never seen anything like it. The smell of burnt fur filled the air and some of the wolves squealed.

  “Go!” I yelled at Loral. He abided my instructions and scurried toward the truck.

  They continued to stalk forward, some had fully shifted. They were waiting for Luka to exhaust his Magic. The three wolfs holding guns seemed to remember they were armed and begun firing toward us. I dove for cover behind a pile of crates. Luka did the same. Stupid human weapons. His wall of flame fell and he pulled out a gun from a hidden holster. I had never seen him wield one before, but he did so comfortably. Where did he even get the weapon from?

  I didn’t know how any of them held them for as long as they did. Just the memory of firing one sent a shiver up my spine.

  “We need to get rid of their weapons!” he shouted over the top of his fire. “Use your power.”

  I shook my head aggressively. “I’ll lose control.”

  I would expose myself . He ducked out from behind the crates and began shooting. One of the enforcers dropped his gun and shifted into his wolf form, snarling and leaping toward us. I popped up from behind the box and hurled my dagger. It landed in between his eyes. The wolf froze and crumbled mid-step.

  I retrieved my spare throwing knives from my satchel. I spent a second weighting them in my hand before jumping up and pitching them at two separate shifters. One of my daggers hit its mark, the other I had thrown with my left hand. It had gone wide, hitting his shoulder.

  A curse escaped my mouth. Rusty.

  It had the desired outcome anyway, all of the wolves were now disarmed and they had all been forced to shift. When I poked my head above the crates I counted nine left. We were badly outnumbered and under-armed. Neither of us had been expecting a fight.

  Luka holstered his now empty weapon. Our eyes met for a moment before we exploded from our hiding place and into the fray.

  The first wolf crouched before me. There was no time for assessment.

  My dagger slashed out at him before he had a chance to pounce. His roar of pain was deafening. There was no time for prisoners.

  He fell dead but two more stalked me. They met the same fate and I was left with a deep gash across my ribs for my efforts. The wound was messy and burned with the telltale signs of poison.

  Luka grunted in pain as two circled him, one already lay in a burnt husk on the ground. Blood covered Luka’s arm and his Magic saturated the air. My nose twitched and my eyes fixated on the blood pulsing from the wound in time with his heart.

  A wolf threw itself at me and broke the hypnosis. Claws dug into my shoulders and his hefty weight threw me to the floor. My head rung like a bell against the concrete. It took all my strength to keep the wolf’s teeth fr
om clamping down on my neck and my power at bay. Blood seeped from the wound in my side in time with my racing heart. The jaws of the animal snapped at my face, its spittle hitting my cheek. My blade had been knocked from my hand in the fall. I reached towards it with one outstretched arm while the other pushed at the creatures gross, wet snout.

  My arm begun to shake under the strain.

  The wolf’s head landed next to my face. My eyes squeezed shut as a torrent of arterial spray rained down on me. The weight of the wolf disappeared. I took a deep breath and my throat became clogged with sour blood. I frantically wiped at my face, desperate to clear my eyes. Before I could lash out, a warm hand grabbed my own and pulled me to my feet.

  “Are you alright?” Luka murmured.

  The tip of his sword rested on the ground and he looked as horrid as I felt. I nodded. We were both still alive, for the moment. We stood together to face the two remaining threats. The scent of Luka’s magic had disappeared from the air and was replaced by only the reek of wolf blood. I pushed a bloody tendril of my hair behind my ear and knelt down to yank my blade from the closest wolf’s chest. I threw it at the animal as it thundered toward me. The dagger landed flush in the creature’s chest, but it did not fall. It kept running at me, its black eyes filled with a hunger that I understood only too well. I would be eviscerated before I could stop it.

  “Rina!” Luka lobbed his sword at me. I caught it and chopped down. The creature dodged my strike and skittered back aside.

  Luka let loose more spurts of fire but I could taste his weariness in the air. The wolf swiped at my thigh in a movement too quick for me to track. My balance faltered and I fell to one knee. He lunged toward me to deal the killing blow.

  My sword met his middle. He faltered for a moment but kept snarling. I pushed the sword in deeper into its fur with a scream. The wolf died and I felt a cavern of relief open within me.

  Dead.

  My satisfaction was cut short by Luka’s anguished yell. His Magic had faltered and the wolf was on top him, his sharp teeth ravaging his neck.

  No!

  My Magic exploded out from me, my eyes bled black and my hair stood on its ends. My power drilled into the veins of the animal, turning his blood to smoke. I brimmed with stolen power. It sung in my veins and sparked at my fingertips. The monster crumbled, as if its skin was suddenly empty. Warmth flooded my cheeks and made me giddy. I wanted to do this forever.

  Luka lay motionless on the ground in a puddle of his dark blood. Everything wild within me was suddenly quiet.

  I sprinted towards him and crashed to my knees. The pain barely registered. My hands closed over the gaping wound on his neck. Blood squirted between my fingers. I ripped his shirt and painted a large healing rune on his chest.

  “Is he okay?” Loral shouted. I drowned his frantic yelling and focused on draining my Magic into the rune.

  I heaved Luka’s limp bloody form onto my lap, my eyes blurry with tears. There was nothing of the fire under his skin. His body was ice cold.

  I couldn’t sense his Magic. The thought rolled over and over in my mind. It was the only thing I could think of.

  “Luka!” I begged, the rune was working too slowly. Healing Magic couldn’t bring people back from the dead.

  I felt my own breath leave me.

  I slashed my palm with a bloody knife and grasped at the golden thread of my power. I looped it round and round to weave the complex character needed for healing. A hoarse scream wrangled itself from my throat as I forced all my available power into the rune and threw it toward Luka.

  He was dead. I would be left alone in my misery. His sister would die and all his sacrifice would be for nothing. I cried as if my skin was being shredded from the inside. Grief poured from my every pore, the weight of my emotions fueled my Magic. It wasn’t enough. The gem from around my neck began to spark and burn. Without a second thought, I yanked the thin chain and threw it to the ground, shattering it in the process. My Magic flared.

  I forced everything I had into his limp form begging him to just take a breath.

  He couldn’t be dead.

  I had nothing left to give, my power went eerily silent for only the second time in my life.

  “You can’t die,” I babbled.

  I cradled his body close to me. The scent of burnt vanilla tickled my senses. He begun to breathe, taking deep slow inhales. His body turned hotter until the touch from his skin almost burned me. I couldn’t let go. The blood covering his body had cooled and turned sticky. It wet my hair as I buried my face in the crook of his neck.

  “Rina?” His voice was gravelly, as if his throat had been damaged. I pulled back and watched his eyes flutter open. Exhaustion crashed over me. I had given too much.

  “You’re alive.”

  “It would seem so.”

  His response pulled a dry laugh from me. I buried my face in his chest. He stiffened for a moment before softening and wrapping an arm around me. I inhaled the sweet smell of his Magic. Before he could see, I swiped at my eyes to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “I’m fine.” I had expended all my power. There was no Magic left for another healing rune. I cradled my ribs protectively, holding the pieces of my singlet together.

  “We should go,” Loral whispered. He had collected the bag of money and held it to his chest.

  “Leave the traxxy,” Luka ordered.

  Loral followed his direction and dropped the duffel bags in the middle of the scattered bodies. He looked bashful. He had never told us what was in the bags. The healing rune had worked perfectly. Luka seemed to be back at full strength. He slipped off his destroyed t-shirt to reveal four thin lines across his chest and neck. The blood coating his body was dried and I could almost convince myself that it didn’t belong to him. He looked at his body in wonderment.

  “I feel perfect.”

  He balled his shirt and pressed it to my side. My vision had begun to grey from blood loss. It had taken all my power to yank him from deaths icy grip and now I was paying for it. I wouldn’t examine the feeling his lifeless form had exposed. His strong arms slipped under my knees and he cradled me to his bare chest. Loral drove us back to the motel, oddly silent the whole drive.

  Luka insisted on carrying me into the motel room when my eyes struggled to stay open. Pain was radiating from my entire body and I ground my teeth together to keep silent. Despite my effort, a groan escaped my lips as Luka placed me gingerly down on the bed.

  “Do you have enough Magic to perform another rune?”

  I could only shake my head, my Magic was still deathly silent. It made me wonder if it would ever come back.

  “Poison.” It was the only word I could spit out.

  “Loral, I have medical supplies in my bag. Will you grab them please?”

  Silently, Loral rushed over to Luka’s bag and retrieved the supplies. After he deposited them off to Luka, he went to the bathroom and came back with a bowl of hot water. Loral sat in brooding silence. If the pain wasn’t blindingly distracting I would have demanded to know why he was behaving so strangely.

  Luka cut down the front of my shirt exposing the wound. My skin was ashen and clammy, and my hands shook slightly.

  Loral handed me a silvery potion. “For the pain.”

  I took it greedily. The effects were almost immediate. My senses were covered in a heavy wool blanket. Everything was muted, even the feel of the warm cloth as Luka gently washed my wounds. It must have been human medicine.

  “Sleep, Rina.” Surprising panic rose within me.

  “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he said and rested a hand on my cheek. With his platinum eyes gazing at me, my eyes slipped close and I fell into a deep sleep.

  ***

  In my hazed state, I could just make out fervent arguing. The world was covered in clouds.

  “She called you Luka?” a voice whispered.

  “Calm down. You’ll wake her.” A deeper, bored sound cam
e from closer by.

  “Who are you?” The first voice sounded frantic.

  My breath caught as I rolled onto my side. The pain was excruciating. A grating moan came from me in response. My body was on fire. A cool cloth was dabbed on my forehead and comforting words were murmured in my ear. My lips were wet with a sour tasting liquid and I fell back into a restless sleep.

  ***

  There was a war raging within me. My body was drenched in sweat yet still I shivered violently.

  “The poison is burning her up faster than her Magic can heal her.” Luka’s horrified moan came from beside me. The metallic-tasting potion was brought to my lips and I drunk the liquid like it was the sweetest water. The relief was instant. I drifted blessedly away.

  “She’ll be okay.” Loral’s voice sounded far away, like I was floating above my body. “She always is.”

  The sound warmed me for some reason. It was a pleasant feeling and one I clung on to in the sea of pain.

  ***

  Gentle snores filled the room. I hurt from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes, but the pain was bearable. I opened my eyes to darkness. Beside me I saw Luka’s muscled form propped up by a stack of pillows. His face was lined with stress.

  I gasped as I rolled over. Luka’s eyes snapped open. His features were laced with concern and he begun fussing over me, dabbing the cool washcloth over the wound on my chest. My body felt as if it had been dragged through a blender, but I didn’t feel like I was actively dying anymore. Luka brought another potion to my lips, but I pushed him away. I’d slept for too long already.

  We needed to retaliate on those that had betrayed us. I pushed myself up, ignoring the pain in my ribs. My Magic had finally returned, but it only slid quietly through my veins. It would be enough for now.

  “I think I can perform a healing rune,” I croaked, trying not to wake Loral, who was snoring on an arm chair. He hadn’t left my side. I didn’t deserve him.

  Luka didn’t question me, he just handed me my blade. I slashed my palm and with my free hand, I intertwined my fingers with Luka’s. I had done it subconsciously but immediately, my power centred. The golden thread of Magic slid down my arm and I let it pool in my hand with the spilled blood. It wove into the rune for healing, the power spluttering and shivering in protest. By the time I had completed the rune I was shaking. Sweat dripped from the end of my nose. Luka didn’t ask if I was okay, his faith was comforting. I pushed every last iota of power into the rune and finally felt the click of it taking hold.