"So you're planning to pretend we're complete strangers now? Because you think my health issues are some kind of omen?"
His gaze remained stony. He was serious.
"Dorian, that's crazy," I said. Frustration coiled in my stomach, expanding and heating up my core. This discussion felt like it belonged in the Middle Ages. I’d never experienced something so irrational.
He crossed his arms and shifted his feet, his eyes back to staring at my forehead, or wherever they were going to not meet me in the middle.
"It doesn't make sense,” I continued, unable to stop the words pouring out as I tried to apply reason to this scenario. “Other humans and vampires have gotten close to each other and nothing's happened. Even Sike and Louise danced the other night. And Kane and Zach have… I mean, they had that stupid handshake that we couldn’t get them to stop doing. Our teams have grown tight, and that's important for the goal. For our goal. How are we supposed to work together long-term like this? How are we supposed to trust each other? That is what you want, isn’t it? A long-term alliance with humans? Otherwise, what the hell have we been wasting our time on these past weeks?" I couldn’t stop the barrage of questions as they tumbled out.
His silence chewed a hole in me. It gnawed at my frustration, trying to suck the life out of it. But I couldn't give up yet. Somewhere inside this creature staring at me was the vampire I knew. The vampire I thought I’d… I looked directly into his eyes, willing him to understand.
"My health problems could be—and very possibly are—totally unrelated to this. The doctor says it’s stress. Blood pressure. Are you seriously going to shut down and erase everything we've built based on one human’s illness? When no other humans have shown symptoms? Dorian, this isn't like you. You’re smarter than this."
He shook his head but remained silent, his lips pressed together, his face severe. Through the blankness of his eyes, I thought I could see the tightness of pain. But maybe that was wishful thinking.
"Please help me understand," I said, drowning my exasperation to try another tack. "If there’s some other issue, let’s talk about it. This isn’t logical. If there’s a problem between humans and vampires, we can fix it. Just tell me the real reason you’re doing this. Has anything else happened? Did I… Did I do something wrong?”
Dorian’s voice growled. "I did explain.”
"Is it because…" I steadied my breathing and organized my thoughts. I'd never spoken with anyone like this before, and having it out in the open would tear me apart one way or another. "Do you… Do you think I collapsed because we got too close? Because… you almost kissed me?" My voice cracked.
"Oh, please," he snapped suddenly. He jerked his eyes from me, his posture leaning away, his voice becoming bitingly clear. "Why would I kiss you? You daydream a lot for a soldier."
I blinked. Tears bit my eyes. That hole that had opened up inside of me swept more of my frustration away, leaving me feeling drained.
I didn’t know the man standing in front of me. And maybe I never had. Maybe I’d made it all up. He clearly thought so.
Maybe vampires were exactly what I'd been taught. Manipulative, calculated, temperamental animals who'd turn on you in an instant. Maybe I was seeing the final act of a master deceiver. But…
"Why?" I asked hoarsely. "Why go through… all of this, and pretend to get close to me, just to… What does that even get you? What game are you playing?" I closed my mouth, my face hot, my eyes pricking. Why embarrass myself?
"I only wanted to help," I said, not even sure what I was going for anymore. There was nothing left to say; his dragging silence made that clear. The ache inside me wasn’t from my stomach or hypertension. My hands clenched into shaky fists. My vision tunneled, all the feelings I’d experienced up until now pinpointing into a burning bitterness.
“Really? This is it?” I finally snapped.
Dorian offered me one more dead, lifeless stare. It looked like a mask of Dorian, worse than any makeup or clown paint, frozen into a hideous Greek statue, a parody of the vampire I’d spent an entire evening dancing with.
"Obviously,” I spat, “I’ll be more careful about who I help in the future."
And with that I stormed out of vampire quarters—before he could see me wipe my cheeks.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The following days passed in a slow, dragging blur. My chest and stomach pains disappeared, replaced by a new dull ache. An ache that was not quite physical but seemed to hold my body in its sway just the same.
With the side project over, our remaining redbill missions absorbed my energy, though not as much as I might have liked, since Bryce benched me on the aircraft per doctor's orders. That seemed stupid to me now, though, because I hadn’t had a glimmer of pain or stomach issues since I’d stormed out of the vampire quarters.
I was so bitter that I hardly cared if Dorian was right about him being the source of my medical issues or not, but I mentioned it to Bryce after a mission. He wasn’t fully convinced, but he did agree to assign more kinds of tasks around the facility to alleviate my torturous boredom and lack of distraction. I was grateful, but that feeling usually got lost somewhere between my intense swings from anger to heavy melancholy.
Every day, the vampires only spoke when absolutely necessary, and our groups sat apart in meetings. A malaise enveloped me, a fog that never drifted or lifted. Worse, it shrouded everyone else, too. Everybody at the facility looked like zombies, shuffling from one task to the next, day after day. Even the security guards had lost their humor. The air thickened with disappointment.
The vampires' silence spread through the facility like a plague.
On the rare occasion that Dorian was near me, my despondency broke into burning bitterness. He never said anything more to me than the mission required, but every time I heard his voice, sharpness and indifference flooded me again. Eventually, the initial shock wore off and grew into anger, holding firm. I regularly woke with a sore jaw from relentlessly clenching it, even in my sleep.
A week after I’d returned from the hospital, we passed each other in the main hallway. This time, Dorian fixed his eyes on me and held them for a moment as he passed, his gaze less icy than before. I couldn’t help it—a flicker of hope that everything would turn back to normal soon flashed through me.
But I had to crush that hope. I couldn't bear the thought of getting pulled in again. Not after he’d thrown my friendship away so easily for only a suspicion, a temperamental assumption. That minimal amount of acknowledgement in the hallway physically hurt. And after we floated past each other, my anger dissipated back into the massive hole inside me.
He wanted to keep everything between our species a “business transaction.” It could be done, I supposed. But it sucked the life out of everything.
I began to despise it all: every minute, daily detail about the facility. So much so that I seriously considered returning home in disgust. It wasn’t like my current work couldn’t be performed by someone else, and given my recent health issues, Bryce would release me. But we were so close to the end now that I decided to hold out. I wasn’t one to leave a task unfinished, no matter how unpleasant it became.
I resorted to reminding myself that this was probably inevitable; apparently our incompatible species were not meant for interaction or friendship. Vampires came from another realm, another world, and they would return to it eventually. We were too different. What I’d thought was growing between me and Dorian was just an unnatural, random occurrence that could never have lasted. Just like Halla had said.
In fact, Halla seemed to be the one person in the facility positively affected by the change. From what I saw, she suddenly enjoyed her daily doings. In fact, some days her voice lilted in a way that was almost chipper, like something lost had returned, which made me want to slap her. My tingling resentment over the situation reignited every time she shot me a smug smirk around the facility. Kane hadn't spoken to me since I saw him in Dorian's old room. I never returned
to the vampire quarters.
Captain Bryce made a point to start morning briefings with energy and jokes, but the effort he put in always dissolved after the first few minutes of everyone's deadpan, indifferent stares. His confusion and disappointment lined his forehead.
Sometimes I felt worse for him than anyone else. He was powerless to fix something he'd been so invested in.
Our missions wound down as the trial period neared its end. No one seemed to care how many redbills we'd relocated anymore, but the captains continued to sing praises to our deaf ears.
On our second-to-last day at the facility, I found myself scrubbing the bathroom tiles just to avoid being alone in my bunk. My phone vibrated in my back pocket.
"Hi, Uncle Alan," I said.
"I have news for you," my uncle told me, sounding somewhat distracted. Hopefully he was too busy to notice how dead my voice sounded. "I presented your case to the board at our last meeting, and they've finally given me their verdict, after a predictably prolonged debate. Excuse me.” He covered the microphone and spoke with someone else in the room before returning. “Sorry, juggling a lot right now. We will extend our support for the vampires beyond the trial period. Despite some reservations, most board members were impressed with what you pulled off."
"That's good," I replied, feigning cheer. His words meant so much, but so little.
"The next step in discussion is accommodation, where to house them in the longer term, because we expect they’ll need something a bit more spacious. And perhaps less prison-like"
"Oh," I said softly, my warmth slightly more genuine this time. "I'm glad to hear that."
"Your superiors have been informed, and they're making necessary preparations. I just wanted to tell you personally, as you've gone above and beyond on this mission."
"Thank you, Uncle Alan," I said.
Despite the board taking steps forward, the success rang hollow. At least I’d helped a group of people who needed it, and I still believed that had been the right thing to do, though they no longer seemed to want me as anything more than a means to an end.
I hung up and went back to scrubbing at the grout.
It was strange, feeling so much but so little. I wiped a tear from my cheek.
This had not been how I envisioned celebrating our success.
* * *
Late the next morning, I roamed the halls searching for a captain to give me a task. By now, they’d grown adept at avoiding me. Finally, though, I found another job: helping Bryce set up another party in the yard.
"Time to celebrate!" he encouraged, handing me the cords to set up the speakers.
"I suppose it is," I replied, forcing a smile. My thoughts flooded with memories of the laughter and dancing—and Dorian’s eyes on my hips—from the previous party. I didn’t have high hopes for this upcoming one.
"Lunch is in the works. I've asked the kitchen staff to join us, too," he chattered.
We moved tables and chairs. Bryce unfurled a banner with "GOODBYE, 700 REDBILLS!" scrawled across it in multicolored marker. We hung it between two posts on either side of the food table.
After Bryce scurried inside to alert the soldiers and vampires of our final gathering, I stood staring at the banner. I read the number over and over in my head. We’d cleared more redbills in six weeks than I’d imagined I would in my entire career, and the number felt so abstract. Frustration sparked that I couldn’t feel the joy this accomplishment deserved. But even that fizzled out.
It was a rare cloudy afternoon. It felt like the facility's demeanor even affected the weather.
After a shower, I headed back to my bunk to change. Soldiers milled around, most of them already packing their bags.
"You guys coming to the party?" I asked in Roxy and Louise's direction. Roxy simply walked away as if she hadn't heard, but Louise offered a small smile and nod.
I made my way back to the yard, finding only a few soldiers milling about the food and drinks. Zach and Gina sat in the corner with their elbows on their knees. I joined them.
We sat in silence, listening to Hank and Lily discuss plans for relocating to the vampires’ next facility. Apparently, some of the soldiers would stay with the project, but most of my team would return to Chicago. Just a week ago, it would’ve stung to be excluded from the new project. Now I just felt relief to put all this behind me.
"Well, it's been fun," Zach said bitterly, staring at the bottom of his plastic cup. Gina rested her head on his shoulder.
Bryce burst through the door with papers in his hand.
"I have an announcement." He glanced around at the small group, then mumbled, "Er, I'll wait a few minutes for everyone to arrive." He hooked up a microphone to the speakers, looking around anxiously every now and then.
An entire hour passed before Bryce finally admitted defeat and stepped onto a chair, rustling his papers to get the attention of the five soldiers in the audience. He cleared his voice in the mic.
The door creaked open, and everyone's eyes darted to it. Two kitchen employees came out. They feebly waved and took seats.
"All right," Bryce grumbled into the microphone. "I have a few words about how I, uh… feel things went."
Zach rolled his eyes and muttered to me, “Looks like the old man’s finally lost it.” I smacked his shoulder.
"We relocated seven hundred redbills, which well exceeds our expectations for the trial period. Congratulations!" He forced excitement, clapping his hand against his papers, his voice getting marginally stronger. The seven of us clapped in support.
"I want to take this moment to commend all of you on your hard work, and especially your professionalism and… teamwork." I could see him struggling with the last word, but he got through it and continued. "Your efforts have been and will continue to be felt across the country. You've saved lives." He paused, staring at his paper in the dead silence.
My heart ached for him. It all felt so unfair. So stupid. I hoped the vampires were happy with themselves. This moment would have really felt like an accomplishment if we had all been celebrating together.
"I guess that's it. Good job," Bryce concluded, before stepping down from his chair and turning off the microphone. He pressed play on the music, and some obscure rap beat pumped out of the speakers. Even the music felt halfhearted.
I approached Bryce at the food table.
"Thanks for the speech, Captain," I said quietly. My chest tightened as I looked at him. I wanted so badly to magically transform all my bitterness into a better day for my captain. "We really do appreciate it. And the party." I felt a certain solidarity with his futile attempts to make things feel normal again.
"Aye," he said, cracking a carrot stick between his teeth. He looked lost. "Just thought I'd get us all together one last time."
"Yeah," I said. I patted his shoulder lightly with a sigh. The kitchen staff crept away, and I couldn’t blame them. The crowd of ghosts at this party left little room for the rest of us.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I stood on the tarmac as evening fell, the cooling wind sweeping my hair around my face. The facility looked the same as it had the day we landed. The inside had changed a lot, though. So had I.
As the other soldiers boarded the aircraft, I patted my pockets for my phone and keys. I felt a lump in my breast pocket and sighed. Dorian's stone. I’d put it there intending to return it on my way out, but I’d turned back after I reached the vampire quarters. I'd had enough rejection for a lifetime. If Dorian wanted it back, he’d have to ask for it.
Zach walked up, backpack slung over his shoulder. "All set?"
"Yeah," I said quickly, ready to be done with this place. I followed him to the aircraft.
Zach hopped in and turned to offer a hand. But before I took it, I heard my name through the wind.
Laini ran up, waving. I cautiously set down my bag.
"I wanted to say goodbye," she called over the thrumming engine. "I'm sorry that things… didn't end on the best note, but I wan
t to thank you. For everything you've done for us." Her violet eyes shimmered. "It won’t be forgotten."
"Thank you, Laini," I replied, my words catching.
Laini had been kind to me, in her own quiet way, even when the others acted like I didn’t exist. I was grateful for her to my core in that moment. Smiling sadly, she squeezed my hand and backed away.
I grabbed my bag and boarded, plopping down beside Zach. Through the window, I watched Laini stand at the facility entrance as the plane pulled away. The camaraderie we’d built, and then lost so suddenly, hadn’t been entirely in my head. Knowing that made my chest ache, but it also helped.
We lifted from the pavement. Zach put his arm around my shoulders. Grayson stared out the window, his eyes lazily gazing at the scenery. Louise had borrowed Sarah’s pillow and dedicated herself to a nap the moment she’d put her butt on the aircraft bench. A heavy sleepiness floated about all of us, even before we’d reached higher elevation.
We landed in Phoenix shortly, to drop off a few soldiers who had business there before the transport moved on to Chicago. As the plane touched down, something stirred in my mind. Uncle Alan had mentioned the board would gather in Phoenix today, expressing his regrets that we would miss each other.
I turned to Zach, the spark of an idea in my head.
"I'm going to hop off," I said. "Uncle Alan is here, so I can fly back to Chicago with him to discuss details about the vampires' long-term feeding plans. The team doesn’t need me on the plane with them." I stood and picked up my bag.
Zach and Gina exchanged a worried look.
"What they do with the vampires isn’t your responsibility anymore, Lyra," my brother said, his tone protective.
He gestured for me to sit down, but I hesitated. Zach might be right, but I wasn’t ready to slide back into my normal life again. Not yet.
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