A Violet Fire (Vampires in Avignon Book 1)

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A Violet Fire (Vampires in Avignon Book 1) Page 17

by Kelsey Quick


  Beeeep! Beeeep! Beeeeep!

  The same shrilling sound echoes about the work room. Along with everyone else, I whip my head in the direction of the noise—to the end of the synthetics line—to Savvy’s flashing arm.

  Savvy’s?

  My heart freezes at the sheer thought. Why would Zein summon her? Of all his supply units, why would he pick her?

  Katarii watches me from across the room, and her spiel from earlier echoes through my mind.

  What if Zein really is planning to do something horrible to her because of how I acted? What if he’s actually going to give her back to Giomar, or worse?

  “Savvy,” I cry out as I side step out of my station, tripping over piles of linens and stray feet. I run to the end of her line. Katarii sits in silence, her mouth covered by a quivering hand.

  “If you want to eat, get back to your line!” a touchy attendant calls from the edge of the room, but I pay no mind. Savvy is blinking at her wrist in disbelief when I get to her.

  “Savvy.” My voice cracks beneath the weight of my nerves. Several different emotions pummel into my gut and wring it into knots, leaving me helpless.

  “It’s okay,” she finally says, awakening from her stupor and getting off her stool. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  I grab her arms and whisper urgently, “Whatever you do, be pitiable and submissive. He’s not as evil as he seems. Let him know that I apologize for everything that I’ve done and that I—”

  “Wave.” Her austere smile creates dimples in her cheeks as she assures me. “I’ll be fine. I know you don’t understand, but for someone like me, it’s an honor to be summoned.”

  A part of our friendship audibly tears open—creating a fresh and noticeable wound. Suddenly, I can see the extent of our differences. How much I don’t understand someone like her. I stand awkwardly, my eyes darting from taupe skin to eyelash to the loose strands of dark brown hair. Something in my expression however, leads her eyes to soften as she whispers, “Trust me. You didn’t do anything to cause this.”

  I’m left with the dying warmth of a hug and the daunting view of Savvy striding elegantly toward Zein’s quarters for the first time. I wish I could go with her, be there for her, protect her. Hopefully she’s right, that it really has nothing to do with me. My chest is as heavy as the atmosphere in the room when I turn back toward my spot in the laundry line.

  “They don’t need your half-hearted scrubbing. Off you go!” the cranky attendant shouts at me from her perch across the room.

  “Coffet, you’re so uptight,” a high-pitched warble echoes from afar. I recognize its owner as the blond vampire attendant, the food disperser, Madam Seriesa. She’s coming to my defense?

  Madam Seriesa’s ocean eyes rest on me. She smiles wide, showcasing her authority with dignity and poise. “Back to work, Wavorly, if you so choose.”

  ✽✽✽

  The time that it takes for Savvy to return feels like years. I ended up leaving the workroom—despite Seriesa’s gracious offer—since thinking straight became an intrepid chore. Instead, I climbed the stairs to the top floor to wait for my friend.

  For the last hour I’ve been pacing near the entrance, anxiously chewing on the tips of my nails, nervously twirling my hair, and avoiding eye contact with the entrance attendant—who shoots me a look of pure death every time a fingernail snaps. Savvy should be back any minute. Feedings don’t take very long. Well, unless you faint. Wait, did she faint? Maybe she’s in the infirmary? Oh, no… What if she bled out?!

  With my imagination running wild, I almost don’t notice the two figures walking up from the passageways. It’s Savvy, escorted by Gemini.

  Their conversation breaks when Savvy sees me.

  “You’re so paranoid,” she yells at me with a smirk. “I told you I would be fine.”

  I scoff as my eyes trail over her. Everything seems to be in line except for the red ribbon on her neck.

  “Did he use his fangs?”

  She shakes her head and pulls up her sleeve, revealing the bandage and matching ribbon. “Kortrastet. The ribbon is just for the barter girls.”

  Relief flees my lungs in the form of an exhale and she laughs. “I’m official.”

  Something about that bothers me but I nod in agreement.

  Beyond her, Gemini flashes me a childish face before turning back toward the castle. I can barely fake a laugh.

  “Does your arm hurt at all? Feeling weak?” I ask, turning my attention back to Savvy.

  “Um, a little weak, yes, but not bad at all. I’m surprised.”

  If you were with Giomar you wouldn’t be saying that.

  I open my mouth to speak but quickly shut it, searching for a good place to start, but Savvy beats me to it.

  “Lord Zein didn’t do anything to me like he did with you, don’t worry.” Her mouth curls into a grin as she glances at her fingertips. “It was normal, like what we were taught at Nightingale.”

  Something strange wells up inside me. An unknown irritation reveals itself as I am blindsided by how beautiful and optimistic my friend is—how she’s more of a prize than I could ever be… to Zein. But why does that bother me?

  I’m about to question her sincerity but she opens her mouth first.

  “Also, um.” She stops me. “Is there any way you can not mention anything about me to him from now on? Like you said, he seemed on edge about something, and I… I don’t want to constantly worry about my place here.”

  Embarrassment reddens my cheeks. “Yes, of course. I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “Thanks, Wave.” Savvy grabs my arm. “Come on. If I don’t get food soon, I’ll fall over dead. You haven’t any more of those spare, mid-meal tickets do you?”

  I laugh half-heartedly, still uneasy from our previous conversation. “Yeah, right. I’m not a part of Anaya’s cult so I don’t get them, remember?”

  Her chuckle is a warmth that fills my heart. At least my friend is well and treating me the same as before. Nothing’s changed.

  I walk down the spiral staircase to the recreation room with Savvy, both of us guffawing along the way. Throughout our conversation of our favorite cafeteria treats, an unsettling embarrassment lingers in the pit of my stomach. Did I make Savvy believe that I cared if anything happened between them? Between her and Zein? Did she think I would be jealous?

  Of course, as my mind skirts the suggestion, images of Zein penetrate my train of thought—knocking it off path. His beautifully taut skin always adorned by chains of allegiance, and robes of royalty. His silvery diamond eyes, gleaming beneath the blue lanterns, allowing in frugal needles of light. The tall form, the deep voice, his usually calm nature. How he lets me talk to him and analyze him even though it is against everything I was ever taught. How he attempted to right his regret by way of a purely human affectation. Do I actually care what he thinks of me versus how he thinks of everyone else? There’s no way… right?

  I’m so lost in thought that I almost don’t notice Katarii’s approach in the recreation room. I don’t have time to clam up when she faces me.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” she forces out in one, swift breath.

  Well, I wasn’t expecting that. Savvy, however, seems pleased. So maybe they weren’t talking bad about me earlier.

  “I just… I was mad,” Katarii admits, folding her arms across her body in discomfort. “And I have a limited filter when I get mad, so.”

  “Maybe we have more in common than I thought,” I say, offering a small smile. “I’m sorry, too.”

  And like that, all the drama is over. Everything goes back to normal. Katarii nods and jumps right into questioning Savvy about her summoning.

  Funny, how the scenarios that we build up to be giants in our heads end up being nothing but mere pebbles. And here I was, thinking that nothing would be the same between our group again. Sometimes it’s nice to be wrong.

  Beeeeeep! Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeep!

  The tag on my arm goes off and the three of us
jump. My heart soars into the back of my throat. What? But Savvy was…

  Savvy and Katarii both wear horrified expressions upon their flushed faces. Sometimes it’s nice to be wrong.

  Then again…

  ✽✽✽

  “Lord Zein?” I slowly pass through the doors to his room and the blue lanterns flicker on. I see him at the window sill, staring out into the night. His arms are crossed, and his expression... not ideal. Nervously, I tiptoe the rest of the way in, dreading the atmosphere that only thickens the farther I get.

  What can he be thinking?

  After what happened between us, and summoning me so close after Savvy… I’m almost scared to imagine. Zein turns to look at me and I freeze.

  “Sit,” he says.

  I scout the nearest chair or ottoman and settle for a raised footrest a few feet away from a perfectly capable sofa. I squeeze my knees together and try to silence my shivering hands as he lifts a bottle from the window sill, pouring its contents into an intricately-carved goblet of glass. The label on the container reads ‘Absinthe’ and is already halfway gone. Zein resets the bottle and strides toward me. His black and layered leather robes—sashed loosely around his hips—drag behind him from his elegant stride. Chains, with Cain’s pyramid symbols dangling, hang off the shoulders. My eyes naturally trail upward from his long legs, to his broad shoulders, to his face. When I catch the sheen of his lips I throw my head down—the memory of how close his was to mine sends the memories from last night to the forefront. Angering me, and yet…

  I watch his feet as they pass, only stopping once they arrive and kick back on the adjacent sofa. I dare not meet his gaze, and he seems to notice.

  “Did I frighten you so much that you won’t even look at me now?” he asks, taking a drink.

  No. I just don’t want to piss you off any more. Like you can scare me… ha.

  My internal monologue continues to half lie to itself as I raise my eyes hesitantly up to his. To my surprise, he’s wearing a face of concern. As quick as I note the expression, it fades.

  “That’s better.”

  The room falls silent for as long as I can bear.

  “If I may ask,” I break it with polite bitterness. “Why did you summon me here?”

  “To reach an understanding.” He sighs, taking another drink. “One that would make both of our lives easier. And yours, hopefully better.”

  The only thing that would make my life better is if he stopped with this hot-then-cold business. Oh, and maybe if he released me from enslavement.

  “Yes?”

  He takes another moment to shift his weight on the furniture. “You might be interested to know that I find the owning of so many supply units to be unnecessary.”

  He’s right, I am pretty interested in knowing that. I blink away the surprise.

  “I have as many as I do for the sake of politics alone. If I don’t invest a certain amount at Saya, it looks as if I care nothing for the blood shortage in our country.”

  Like that makes it any better. I roll my eyes.

  “As you probably know from your unsupported form of learning… Saya cultivates humans who are naturally docile and easy to mold. They raise them to value trivial things, to care about vanity for the sake of pleasing their investors, as if any of it truly matters.”

  I grind my teeth just thinking about it—the brainwashing techniques, the gene melding, a way to guarantee beauty and refined blood quality. It’s everything wrong with how the vampire race operates.

  Zein continues. “The supply units I never truly wanted stand before me year after year at the Distribution. And while others in my position would just donate them to the fallen reserves or to the fleas on the street, I know my castle has the ability to host a better life. So, I take that route instead.”

  My body expels the building tension with wondrous ease. So, Zein isn’t like the rest of them? It makes sense, seeing how different Giomar’s supply unit was compared to the supply units here—to me.

  “You see, all the traits that Saya guarantees, I find excruciatingly dull.” He pauses and we reconnect our gaze. “You, however, employ the exact opposite of all those traits. Defiant. Impulsive. Ungrateful, maybe. But yet you are exotic, smart, and you have a mind of your own.”

  My eyes widen a little.

  What is he—

  “I have found, over the last few weeks that I am quite drawn in by your unpredictable personality. I wondered—after I found you all those years ago—how different you would be from the others.”

  Tingles fly up my spine at the insinuation. I inhale sharply through my nose and await more explanation that never comes. My brain tries to find something to respond with, anything at all, until I finally resort to comedy.

  “Well, I would say that finding my personality attractive, of all things, is grounds to see a doctor.”

  He snorts. “Things like that. You speak your mind, and you are who you are. Unashamed.”

  “...I guess,” I murmur, unsure of his point.

  “The rest of my colleagues would advise me to throw you off a cliff after the last few nights,” he remarks with the darkest sense of humor that I have ever heard. “That is how we are supposed to handle supply problems. But I find myself lacking the desire to rid myself of you, more so than any other case. It’s strange—how intriguing you are to me.”

  The loss of what to say constricts my vocal cords. Can I venture enough to admit that a part of me finds him intriguing, too? More and more it’s apparent how different he is from other vampires—his beliefs and his character.

  “So, you don’t really mind how I am, even though it clearly upsets you?” I ask, recalling his reactions the night before.

  “It upsets me at times because it isn’t what I am accustomed to...,” he clarifies. “I am unused to being regarded in such a way from anyone, let alone a human. But the honesty in your company is actually, if I am honest, refreshing.”

  My heart thunders through my ribs.

  “I wanted to atone for my actions yesterday,” he says, retrieving a shimmery trinket from within the chest pockets of his robes. A long silver necklace with an emblem of Cain dangling from the end. The stainless-steel pyramid, beneath a diamond, has ‘Zein’s Favor’ inscribed along the rim. I fight to keep my jaw in place but to no success.

  “The Laisse,” he explains. “With this you are seen and regarded as my preferred supply unit. You no longer have to work for your meals nor the things you would normally have to trade for. Free to indulge so long as your devotion to me and my cause remain. You can move about the castle at your leisure with it, as well.”

  The cells in my brain refuse to work for a couple of seconds. I reach out and take the weighted piece. I know what the Laisse is. It’s an honorary token symbolizing a supply unit’s worth. The real Head of Supply, and the one thing all supply units strive for in their lifetime. Except for me, that is.

  “How can my devotion to you remain if…” I think better of finishing that sentence and quickly shut my mouth.

  He laughs. “If you harbor no devotion at all? Then to be open to the idea would suffice.”

  But so many others are already there.

  “Why me?” I think of Anaya, specifically.

  Zein shifts his eyes away. “I was unfair to you last night. And while many would argue that you should, I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

  I drink in the lines of his youthful face, the scar that travels down it, every nuance of character. There is no sign that would make me think he’s joking, even though I can’t help but feel that he is.

  “What is it that you want, then?” I ask.

  “Ideally, for you to stop hating me,” he says matter-of-factly.

  I snort, my cheeks catching fire. Zein laughs, rotating the ornate, near-empty glass in his hand. “That’s funny to you?”

  I raise my eyebrows and nod.

  “Say I stop hating you...” I smile, looking up at him. “Then what?”

&nb
sp; “Then, hopefully, I can make you happy enough to want to stay here. With me.”

  My heart pounds dangerously in my chest as the heat from my cheeks spreads to the curves of my ears. Everything he says sounds so wrong, so… forbidden. Vampires and humans don’t mix on any level other than bloodlust—at least, they aren’t supposed to. His words, however, seem to funnel to the one thing that Cain forbids from all of their subjects. Endearment.

  Vampires growing attached to their spouses or slaves in a way that renders them vulnerable is against the law, as they strive for an emotionless type of killing perfection. A part of me dwells on the word ‘vulnerable.’ This could work out in my favor if I take advantage of it, using Zein’s favor to find a way out of our cooperative terms. However, a fickle part of me hooks to the other, more dangerous word.

  At Nightingale we were taught that it was natural to desire affection, but to act on it with anyone would lead us to a premature death. It was enticing and rebellious to think of pairing up with the boys back then. But...

  Is Zein attempting to cross that line?

  When I don’t reply he carries on.

  “I will spare you your service tonight, and every night to follow.”

  My eyebrows furrow. I’m about to question whether I heard him correctly when he clarifies.

  “I know that everything you do here is against your will. I forced a life upon you that every other unit would be grateful for, but unlike them, you aren’t a product of Cain. I can’t expect you to want to serve me.” He says it all while staring at the bed across the room, seemingly unsure if he should be saying it. I take this as a sentiment of self-sacrifice, something the imperious lord Zein probably isn’t used to doing. In this moment, I genuinely admire him.

  “Should you need anything, you can come for me at any time. But I will not send for you.”

  He shoots the rest of the potent absinthe and swallows it cleanly as if it has the kickback of water.

 

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