by Kelsey Quick
“The one that keeps testing Lord Zein’s authority?” The blond male asks, analyzing every part of me. “It’s a wonder she’s still alive, after a fall like that.”
She nods. “Lord Zein should finish the job. This is the third time she has done something like this. The second offense is always death, yet still he refuses any sort of punishment.”
“Not for you to judge,” the male replies. This blond holds power over her somehow.
“She’s a menace,” Mettingskew says in a hushed voice. ”She could have very well instilled apprehension and anger within the supply. Luckily for everyone involved, she tends to stick to herself, but how can Lord Zein keep turning a blind eye to such? I know he is soft on his lot, but what does this say about—”
“Watch yourself,” he warns. “Lord Zein informed me that he would determine her fate at the Distribution since he is already in route for the occasion, but nevertheless we mustn’t question our overlords’ decisions. We are far less knowledgeable than they.” He then smiles. “If you are searching for reasoning, I would say perhaps start doing your job and keep the supply under control. Then maybe one day you will earn enough respect to be trusted with answers.”
I nearly bust out laughing at Mettingskew’s crestfallen face, but stop short when I remember...
Zein is coming here. That’s right. Tomorrow is the ceremony. The very reason I timed my escape the way I did was so I could avoid it. And now, after all this time, I will be forced to reunite with him again. My savior, captor, and... owner. I let out an audible groan and the two vampires turn their heads toward me.
Mettingskew growls. “I didn’t bring you here to insult me, Narref. I’m following procedure. Needless to say, we’ve never had a situation like this before.”
“This is the last day you have to sully your hands with her.” His smile fades. “Then you can forget it ever happened.”
Mettingskew crosses her arms as Narref studies me with roving eyes.
“As you know, the Days of Slaughter bestowed heavy misfortune upon human diversity. Across the span of its two-hundred years, many lessers of our kind destroyed our natural food supply, forcing us to protect, feed, and breed the humans, as well as develop synthetic blood under Cain’s honorable law,” he says. “Disposing of humans, no matter their lack of domestication, seems like sort of a waste in these trying times, don’t you think?”
I raise an eyebrow as Mettingskew bites back. “No. We dispose of troublemakers all the time for anyone with a crest on their robes. How is this case any different?”
As much as I hate her, she’s right. It’s messed up how the elite can get rid of endangered, yet unlikable, humans at the snap of their fingers. But who can refute the claim that their army of fallen beasts need to eat, too? I roll my eyes at the thought and notice the fumes that might as well be coming out of Mettingskew’s pointed ears. Narref changes the pace.
“Have you not seen the rare traits that this girl possesses? In all my years spent running the Distribution—watching our most elite decide upon the fates of their investments—I have never seen a red-haired and green-eyed specimen. He will most likely donate her to Saya’s houses after he shows her traits off to the other four. You know, to make a political statement in the effort for posterity and the sort.”
Of course, that sounds like something a wealthy, elitist asshat who wants to look noble and generous would do. Invest in my enslavement for ten years so he can show off my hair for ten seconds before using me as a power tool. I groan so loudly they both look at me again.
“Or, this may be the first time he sentences a human of his to death.” Mettingskew runs her tongue over her teeth while glaring at me. “There is a first time for everything, right?”
Narref shifts his gaze back to the hall, chuckling. “Perhaps. Most humans are not so dull as to test his limits. Either way, I have seen enough to fill out a report. I’m leaving.”
He disappears from my sight, taking his leave back down the hall. Mettingskew faces me. “Unfortunately, I’ll see you at Distribution. With any luck, it will be the last.”
I don’t respond, which garners a scrunched brow of scorn from her. Eventually, much to my relief, she turns to follow after Narref.
I sink into the ground. In part from the pain and in part from the disappointment. So, I’m not receiving the well-deserved death penalty today. Which would be a good thing in any other circumstance, but given the unbearable pain from my falling off a huge wall... right now it’s up in the air. What really gets me though, is the reason I’m being kept alive—for now, anyway. That Zein wants to show me off like some sort of trophy before he either turns me into fallen food or sends me to the hell that is Saya. What an epic purpose I serve.
I sink lower into the ground. I probably won’t have another shot at escaping either. If they are smart, they’ll keep me in here until Distribution, and most likely monitor me all the way up until the ceremonial judgment. A sole thought forces itself through the mess.
What if Zein’s crazy enough to take me back to his castle? To be a part of his blood supply? My fingers clench into my palms. No, even if I manage to get into Zein’s beautiful estate, no doubt I would still find a way to get out. Enslavement is still enslavement, no matter how soft the chains.
Against my will, my eyes close. Amidst the fatal uncertainty, exhaustion becomes an all-consuming force, pulling me out of my pain and anger, and drowning me in wonderful sleep. I pass out to the roars of the very beasts that could be tearing me apart tomorrow.
cHAPTER 2
My eyes open to a dim and misty, dark blue light. All around me is nothingness aside from the leather straps that bind my body to an uncomfortable, metal table. My mouth is so dry I can barely speak.
“H-hello?” Thirst consumes my every thought as I struggle against my restraints, though I take notice of the arument bandages that line my arms and hands. The vampires must have dressed my wounds, and probably against their will. But the pain is gone, at least. Remnants of the vampire’s salve glisten where my skin meets the cloth. It seeps into wounds and reduces pain all over the body, making it seem as if I never fell off an eight-story wall.
“Ready for Distribution, aberrant?” a croaky, male voice echoes from behind.
I swivel my head and eye the black room behind me, trying to blink away the darkness like I would the vampire race, if I could.
A senile vampire with long and scraggy silver hair hobbles into my sight. His long black cloak, zipped up and adorned with three white plus-signs tell me that he’s part of the medical class. I am in some sort of infirmary, though it’s not one I have ever seen before.
“Not particularly.” My strained voice muffles my words. “You look about ready for a grave, though.”
I cough, terrorized by thirst. Saliva really is a blessing that I never thought I would actually acknowledge.
“Hmph,” he chuckles, walking slowly over to what I assume is his supply station. “You really have quite the mouth.”
I take that as a compliment.
When he comes back into sight, he is carrying a blood pack. Except, instead of blood, it is filled with water. My eyes burn with sudden and incomprehensible need as it sloshes and maneuvers in his hands. The vampire suspends a connected, bronze spout over my mouth and I lift my head up, lips quivering, agonizing over every second that passes without the sensation of quenched thirst. As he readies to release it, his hand draws back, and he laughs.
“Not very nice, am I?” he asks, and all I want to do is strangle him. “You are thinking that you need water, so why wouldn’t the one in charge of keeping you alive give it to you... Yes?” His voice becomes frothy, full of amusement.
Seething, I reply, “You are mistaken. I know why you won’t give it to me. Because you’re a vampire. Heartless and cold and unable to empathize with another’s suffering.”
“Oh?” He laughs at me as I cough again. “Unable to empathize, hm? Now that sounds familiar. If you think on it enough, h
umans are not so different from vampires,” he states while analyzing the encased liquid in his hands. “This water that you humans need to survive… is it not something that you would kill for? Is it not something that you would drop your morals for if so little were freely given to you?”
He pauses just long enough for me to inhale a useless breath.
“I thought so. Humans, like every other living thing, are selfish, but that is a requirement to survive. Likewise, in order for us vampires to live, we need human blood. Though here you are, telling me that we are heartless simply because we want to survive. Please, do explain.”
“It’s how you handle our lives that’s heartless,” I hiss. “You cage us and treat us like cattle so that you can use us for whatever you want. I may have it better because I belong to an elite, but once he’s done with me, he’ll send me off to the breeders so that I can spend the rest of my life making more miserable humans that I’ll never name or know. I could never do that to anyone, human or vampire.”
His huge, clawed hand flies out and grabs me by the hair. I yelp, the pores of my scalp blistering from his yank as he brings his face close to mine. Smiling, he growls. “You must have come from the outside, which explains your pitiful ideologies.”
His nostrils flare when I continue to eye him. “Tell me, do you truly think that if you lived a free life you would give your blood to a vampire in need? Even if it left you bed-ridden for hours, could you find yourself selfless enough to do so?”
I scowl at him and whisper, “In all honesty, I have never been granted enough freedom to indulge such a thought.”
He frowns. “Well, let me assure you that you would not. To do so is simply not in your nature. Humans are prey. They only run, fight, or submit to the inevitable. And if they are unable do any of those, then they die at the hands of their predators.”
I blink away his intimidation attempt. “I don’t submit. I only run and fight.”
He releases my hair to lift the water over my face once more.
“Your generation of humans are lucky... for your existence upon this earth is spared only by the impending extinction of your race. You should be grateful that your masters have become less predatory and more parasitic over the last century.”
With these last few words he releases the dam of the spout, letting water spill over my face. Although I’m ashamed by the position I’m in, I open my mouth and struggle to funnel the refreshing droplets onto my tongue. After about half the bag is emptied, a faint chime sounds, and the vampire turns toward the dim silhouette of a door.
I only stare at the ceiling when he leaves, his words refusing to dissipate from the forefront of my mind. The blood and the water. In that moment he made them interchangeable. A need versus a need. My brows dip as I continue to stare in a daze at the blue light above me. I don’t buy it, though. If vampires were not so vile and threatening, if they would leave me the hell alone after the fact—I believe I would willingly give up my blood so they could live. I think.
That being said, because of everything they’ve done to me thus far, because of everything they’ve taken away, right now I can’t even imagine being nice to one.
The vampire returns, refusing me more water.
“Three hours until the Distribution, aberrant. First, you will go to the preparation with the rest of your gender and class. Though it will be all to waste, your dormitory mothers are here to escort you.”
Excitement pulses through me. I will soon be in the same room as my entire class from Nightingale. That means I will reunite with Savvy, the one person on this earth that I love more than food. She’s my best friend, and the only one that I told about my escape plan, even going so far as to beg her to come with me. But Savvy was born into these walls, scouted and purchased based on potential traits and blood type when she was five years old—like most other humans in Cain.
She could never understand why I wanted to leave, or why I didn’t want to be the best supply unit I could be for my owner. I always knew Savvy and I were different in this way—mainly due to Cain essentially brainwashing all of their human investments—but it never bothered me because she was the only one to not let it affect our relationship. It was when I realized that the best I could ever wish for Savvy was that she wouldn’t be sent to Saya’s Breeding Houses until the late age of forty, that I truly lost all faith in happiness while living in the Stratocracy of Cain. The only thing that awaits a human slave is forced reproduction, and there will never be a day where I’m okay with that.
The doctor removes my bindings from the table.
“Sit up.”
I do, and he grabs the back of my neck, forcing me to stand on the marble ground. His claws dig into my skin with each hesitation as I readjust to the art of walking. He motions me by his grip to move forward. Although I can’t see anything, I’ve learned to trust the direction in which vampires lead me. Most don’t have the sense of humor to walk me straight into a wall.
We emerge from the darkness to a room with a curved, glass desk. Dim lantern ropes trace the circular room, highlighting two women on either side of the edifice. Younger than most, and beautiful, the dorm mothers are female vampires that take responsibility for the supply dormitories, keeping all situations and issues that arise within them under control. They also prepare their assigned units for the Distribution Ceremony.
The doctor pushes me forward and I take cuff-restricted steps toward the mothers, all while cursing him under my breath. I’m sure he heard me, but what can he do about it when I belong to one of the five highest ranking officials in all of Cain?
The scrutinizing, black-lipped beauties examine me before motioning me toward them. One leads the way, while the other floats behind. As we turn left out into the hallway, we walk in sync with several other lines of supply units, all led by their own dorm mothers. By the vaulted ceilings, intricate designs, and deviated murals upon the bronze-stone walls, I conclude that we are still in the Selection Hall. It’s a southern, temple-like structure that is used only once every year for the Distribution at Nightingale.
While distracted by the designs and architecture, I manage to run myself into another supply unit. A black-haired male whose brown eyes skirt over me with surprise. My lips barely utter a quick and somewhat flustered, “Excuse me,” before I trot out of the way. My heart thrums violently.
Whoa.
I’ve never been that close to a male supply unit. In fact, I haven’t even seen a human man since my childhood in France.
It’s forbidden for the genders to mix at Nightingale, for obvious reasons, so they keep and teach us in completely separate sectors. No narcissistic, broad-pocketed vampire wants his goods pregnant before her reproduction stage. It affects the mental health—and thus, the blood quality—of a woman when she is forced to give up her baby at birth. Loveless reproduction is something they save for later when your blood is no longer desired.
After I recover from the run-in, an all-too-familiar, cruel feeling of being judged surges up my spine. My fellow classmates stare me down. Some whisper beneath breaths, some behind palms, but all have the same intention and it cuts me deeper than fangs ever could. All the female humans are flawless dolls in make-up, flaunting beautiful, loose and long dresses strapped with thick silver belts just under their bosoms. The men’s wear is similar, although theirs are more relatable to a nicer version of our standard tunics. I, by much contrast, am in an infirmary robe, and smelling about as wonderful as a dead fish. Needless to say, I’m the only one sweaty, hand-cuffed, and wrapped head to toe in arument bandages.
Awesome. More rumors to look forward to. Not that it’s surprising anymore. Following my first escape attempt from Nightingale, I lost nearly all hope in friendship among the supply units. To avoid “soiling” the rest of the supply with my “antics” that were going strangely unpunished by Zein, the staff took care to explain to my entire class that I was an aberrant: markedly less in intellect and appeal than the rest of them, and best to be avoided
.
My stomach churns in nauseating remembrance. After my second attempt at escape, and Zein’s continued refusal to punish me, Mettingskew thought it fit to have the class do it for him.
“Z29734. Step forward, please,” Mettingskew ordered.
My hands shook, and my sight crossed. I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering. Everyone. Everyone was looking at me. I’d never had this many people look at me before. I pictured home. Mother, father, Castrel, the servants… only a handful of eyes I’d ever seen compared to those before me. All of them were my age, and all of them staring at me like I had just committed the worst of sins.
How could they side with a vampire? How could they hate me so much, and vampires so little? How?
I shuffled forward as told along the beaten tile of the school’s foyer, terrified that I might fall from shaking so much. Every exit was lined with vampire guards, of which monitored me with sadistic gazes. Mettingskew faced the rest of my class.
“Darlings… our honorable lord Zein hasn’t the time to properly deal with this aberrant supply unit, one that not only attempted escape once, but twice.” She circled me like a lioness circling a fawn, all else still but my frantic heart. “And why should he, when he is busy laying his life on the line as General to protect us—to protect our noble nation of Cain? Surely, the responsibility then befalls us, the honorable subjects of the esteemed council?”
My eyes widened as I caught the exuberant nods of the girls in my peripherals.
How… how could they not side with one of their own?
“Come now,” Mrs. Mettingskew said to me. She pushed me to the center, between her and the class. “There. One by one I will ask you to step up to the aberrant, and you must slap her here, across the left cheek.” She pointed to her own.