I Am Forever (What Kills Me)

by Wynne Channing

  “No, my lady. I’m sorry. But one of the maids saw him walk out of the office. I have several maids on the search. They will bring him here once they locate him.”

  I slumped and crossed my arms. Anger penetrated my anxiety. What the heck? How could he just walk out without telling me? He must have known that I would worry.

  “We will find him, my lady,” Uther said. “I’m sure he will not want to miss your ceremony.”

  I don’t know about that. I’m sure he thinks this whole thing is ridiculous.

  “What am I going to do?” I tried not to move as Pavone painted my face.

  “Oh, my lady, I will be with you at all times,” Uther answered. “The ceremony is very formal and carefully planned. You will enter the room and take a seat at the altar, where you will remain for the entire ceremony. The Empress will make a declaration, consecrating you as the Divine. The clerics will read some sacred text, and then we will all swear our allegiance to you.”

  “I don’t have to make a speech, do I?”

  “No, my lady.”

  “Good.”

  “The importance of this ceremony cannot be overstated. You don’t realize how momentous your coming is. The Monarchy has been losing its way. It has been wounded by war, and some have had their beliefs diluted by time and strife. But you, my lady, offer something as vital as blood.”

  He drew near and I glimpsed blood welling up in his eyes before he blinked it back. “You offer us hope.”

  Hope.

  “You’ve rekindled our belief in survival, in the sanctity of our scriptures, and our way of life,” Uther said. “Thank you, my lady.”

  I smiled. “Thanks for being here for me, Uther.”

  “You are here for all of us. It is the empire that is flush with gratitude.”

  “That’s a lot of responsibility. I don’t know if I’m cut out for that.”

  “You were born for it,” he said, with a deep nod.

  “Look up, my lady,” Pavone said before dragging a brush under my eyes. “I hear that everyone who is of stature with the Monarchy will be there tonight.”

  “I invited a new friend,” I told her.

  “Oh yes,” Uther said. “The war page will be there.”

  “War page?” Pavone arched an eyebrow.

  “I’ve found that friends who can fight come in handy,” I told her.

  “Well, I fight against poor fashion,” she said.

  “You’re a great friend to have too.”

  She paused in the middle of coloring my eyebrow and opened her mouth, the left corner of her lips tucked up. “My lady. It is truly my honor.”

  “Uther, do you think San will be able to visit me after the ceremony?” I asked.

  He hesitated. “Would you like him to?”

  “Sure. Why not?” I felt guilty that I had gotten him in trouble.

  “Whatever you wish.”

  I looked at him with one eye open while Pavone dabbed her brush against the other eyelid. “Seriously. Why not? And why did the jerk with the whip try to keep him away from me?”

  Uther folded his hands at his waist. I had come to recognize that posture as his diplomatic stance.

  “The Monarchy has certain rules,” he said.

  “Rules against friends?”

  “Rules against consorting with individuals who are not of your stature.”

  “Stature? What constitutes consorting?”

  “Vampires cannot touch other vampires who are of higher stature, for example.”

  “So a handshake was against the rules?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s silly.”

  Uther remained tight-lipped. I remembered Nuwa explaining the class structure to me, but so much had happened since then I couldn’t recall the details.

  “Who is considered low stature?” I asked.

  “Vampires who are direct descendants of the Ancients are of the highest class. They are called Annu. Their creations, second generation vampires, are generally clerics, senators, and other high-ranking patricians. They are called Ilutu. Finally, the Ikkaru are born from the blood of the Ilutu. They are third generation vampires: soldiers, maids, pages, and their ilk.”

  “Then soldiers and pages are on the same level?”

  “No. Within every generation, there is a hierarchy.”

  “Who is at the bottom?”

  “Maids and pages.”

  “And the Empress, of course, is at the top.”

  “No, my lady,” he said. “You are.”

  Right.

  “So, I’m untouchable,” I said, rolling my eyes. “This is like seventh grade all over again. Except back then it was my braces that made me off-limits to boys.”

  “The Monarchy makes exceptions. They will make exceptions for you, my lady. For example, the Monarchy accepts your relationship with the swordsmith.”

  The reference to Lucas and me was like a startling jab in my rib cage. It hadn’t occurred to me that our relationship was of anyone’s concern. He’s of lower stature. The Empress probably disapproves. But she made exceptions. She allowed Nuwa to be with the general. And then he dumped her for the Monarchy.

  Lucas. Where are you?

  “Uh, Pavone?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “I can’t wear this.”

  She tilted her head. “I don’t understand, my lady.”

  I pressed one arm over my chest and bunched the sheer fabric of my beige slip dress into my lap.

  “Where should I start?” I said. “Well, this dress is see-through and I will be standing in front of an entire room of strangers. I’ve had this nightmare before and I don’t really want to relive it.”

  I tried to grin but my face broke into a grimace. I moved my hair, still warm from a curling iron, to cover my chest.

  “My lady, you will be covered.”

  “Oh, are you going to walk behind me covering my junk with your hands?”

  Pavone smiled. “Not at all, my lady.” She snapped her fingers. “I will be sitting with the masses, admiring you from a distance.”

  Two maids carried in a shiny red chest and placed it at Pavone’s feet. They released four latches and opened it. It was filled to the brim with white and champagne gems. Pavone reached down and started pulling out what I thought was a necklace, but the strings of jewels kept coming. It was a sheet of shimmering stones. They caught the light and projected dancing stars on the walls. My gasp caught in my throat.

  The maids helped her lay the jeweled cloak against my body, the weight of the gems startling me and dragging my shoulders down. I pressed the jewels against me, pricking my fingers on the edges of the diamonds and feeling their cool surfaces on my abdomen.

  As the maids fastened clasps against my lower back, Pavone winked at me. “I said you would be covered.”

  She wagged her finger and clicked her tongue twice, and a maid retrieved a full-length oval mirror.

  Whoa.

  A moment of incomprehension hit me. A moment of disconnect. This amazing stranger in the mirror blinked when I blinked. Her lips parted in awe when my lips parted. The hair on my body rose up as if electrified.

  Pavone had dusted my face with a gold powder that made my skin glimmer with my dress. Black liner jutted from the corners of my eyes, like thin, sharp blades. Sparkly gloss pooled at the centre of my blushed bottom lip, making it full, pouty. Bronzer contoured my cheekbones, giving my face a grown-up structure that I had never seen before.

  I had never been so beautiful.

  “What do you think, my lady?” Pavone gathered my hair from my shoulders and let it fall in big, curly locks down my back.

  “Gorgeous,” I whispered, unable to look away.

  Her lips made a wet sound as they pulled across her teeth.

  “Oh wow. That sounds conceited,” I said, turning to her awkwardly because I didn’t want to shift my dress. “Pavone, you’ve given me an ego.”

  “My lady should have a staggering ego to match her splendo
r.”

  I laughed. “Okay, stop.”

  “Now for your veil,” she said, as a maid presented her with another case. She lifted the lid and I thought she was pulling out another gemstone dress. But the stones were smaller and less tightly packed, so when she laid the piece against my forehead and over my hair, it looked as if fresh droplets of silvery water littered my head.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I told her.

  This, I felt, was worthy of offering hope. This, I felt, was what the Divine should look like.

  An earthy, spicy scent swam into the room and I perked up. Lucas. His footsteps, accompanied by Uther’s shuffle, approached from down the hall.

  “Please move the mirror,” I said and walked toward the door like a geisha, my steps hurried but tiny and dainty. The jewels played the room like an orchestra.

  Lucas strode into the room and skidded to a stop, the momentum pulling him forward and then back. He looked like a rearing animal faced with a threat. He stared at me, expressionless, frozen.

  Embarrassed, I opened my arms. “So am I the sparkliest vampire you’ve ever seen or what?”

  He looked me up and down. He looked stunned. The words came as if he was just learning the language. “You...are...sparkly.”

  “How do I look?”

  I couldn’t read his face.

  “You look like a bejeweled nun,” he said.

  I glanced at the mirror and tried to shrug off the injury. “Amen to that.”

  “She looks celestial!” Pavone said.

  “You look magnificent, my lady,” Uther said from behind Lucas.

  “Where did you go?” I said, changing the subject. “We looked for you after my appointment with Doctor Femi.”

  “I went for a walk.”

  “Where?”

  “Around the Acropolis.”

  “For hours?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t tell me,” I said, allowing more hurt in my voice than I had wanted.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. I wanted to reacquaint myself with the place.”

  “That’s great. But you just left and I was worried.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me, Zee.”

  Whenever he said my name, my insides softened. It was an injection of warmth among all of this cold. I feel something for you. But judging by that blank stare you’re giving me, you probably don’t feel the same way.

  “My lady, we should begin heading to the Amphitheater. I will need to give you a tour and instructions on where to stand,” Uther said.

  “Okay,” I said, my dress tinkling as I stepped.

  “Cleric,” Lucas said, “would you mind if I had a moment alone with Zee before the ceremony?”

  Uther exchanged looks with Pavone and then with me. I nodded. Too eagerly perhaps.

  Pavone snapped her fingers and the maids followed her and Uther out. The door closed with a light click and we listened to their footsteps retreat down the hall.

  I brushed away the edge of the veil where it was tickling my neck.

  “Lucas, you can’t just take off—” I began.

  Suddenly he swept toward me and put his hands on my waist, pressing the gems into my hips. His knees knocked against mine as he came close. I looked into his eyes and lost my words.

  You feel the same. Thank God.

  I thought about leaning into his mouth when he moved in. I closed my eyes and his cheek caressed mine. As his lips grazed my earlobe, I put my hands against his chest, a tremor snaking up my spine. I inhaled his scent and was about to sigh when he spoke.

  “We have to run.”

  “Seriously?” I blurted. What’s with these guys pretending to kiss me and then delivering bad news? And why am I so stupid that I keep falling for it? “Why?”

  Lucas wrapped his arms around me and held me tighter. I squeezed my hands out from between us and pressed them against his biceps, trying to nudge him back so I could see his face.

  “Shh,” he said. I could barely hear him. He buried his face in my hair and pressed his mouth to my ear. “Don’t speak. Listen.”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “This place is dangerous.” His voice was almost inaudible. “Nothing has changed. We can’t trust anyone. We have to go. Now.”

  “Lucas...”

  He slid his hand up my back, over the ridges of my spine, to my bare neck. My eyes fluttered closed and I bit my lip, wanting his other hand on my skin. It felt so good. I couldn’t concentrate.

  But he was doing it to distract any spying eyes.

  “Wait,” I whispered.

  “There’s no time. We have to go now. I was able to sneak away and contact Samira.”

  Samira? Her name was like cold water over my fire. Then another flame caught inside me, one of jealousy.

  “She’s going to arrange an extraction for us from Rome,” he said. “This is our only chance to go under the cover of night. The Aramatta is occupied, they’re at the Amphitheater, so we can—”

  This must have been triggered by watching the Aramatta train. Or did he see something or someone else in the Acropolis? What makes him think we’re in danger? I’m missing something. I should have told him about the video where the rebels threatened me.

  He must have felt me stiffen because he pulled back, his hands under my veil and in my hair. He implored me with his eyes.

  “I don’t understand,” I mouthed.

  “Please. Trust me.”

  “Tell me why.”

  “Something bad is going to happen.”

  “What?”

  “I just know. You need to come with me.”

  I thought back to that moment when we were at the church, the Aramatta almost upon us, and Lucas had held out his hand, begging me to go with him. I had trusted him then and he had brought us this far.

  But things were different now. I was different. I had to rise to this occasion.

  I can’t. The feeling rose like a bubble to the surface of my thoughts and it surprised me.

  Maybe I didn’t want to run or hide anymore. Maybe I felt a responsibility to the vampires, to Uther, to Pavone. Maybe I thought this was the best way to protect Lucas.

  This was where I had power. It was where we could be together without question, because who would question me? From this moment on I was at the top of the food chain.

  He read my wrinkled brow, and the hurt that darkened his expression made me grip his arms. I dragged him toward me and pressed our foreheads together.

  “But I can protect us here,” I said.

  “No one can protect us from them.”

  He twisted his head, but I held him to me. “Please, not now. It just doesn’t seem right.”

  “No, Zee.”

  “Trust me, Lucas.”

  “This is wrong.”

  “Stay with me. Just until I figure this out.”

  “Figure what out?”

  How to be. “I...I have a responsibility to them.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Please, Lucas.”

  His eyes tracked back and forth over mine, our noses almost touching. A soft cough shook him and I realized that he had tensed in my crushing grip. I released him, yearning instantly to be close to him again, and he stepped back.

  Uther’s muffled steps were returning down the hall. It was now or never.

  I reached out one hand to him. “Lucas.”

  He shook his head, his lips pressed together. Suddenly he whipped around, yanked the door open, and walked out. The door slammed behind him, cracks radiating out from the edges of the door frame along the walls; the sound penetrated me, broke me. I stood there, bulldozed.

  Did he...did he just leave me?

  The silence and shock enveloped me. Seconds, or minutes, later—I didn’t know—Uther opened the door. He had changed into a mahogany-colored robe.

  “My lady?” he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.

  “Yes, Uther,” I said thickly, talking thro
ugh what was like sludge in my throat.

  “Are you all right?”

  No. “Yes.”

  “It’s time. Where did the swordsmith go?”

  “He left.”

  “Well, he will catch up with us at the ceremony. I’m sure he wouldn’t miss this moment. Come, my lady. Everyone is waiting for you.”

  The walk to the Amphitheater was a blur of stone corridors, of dusty, saccharine smells like that of rotting flowers. Uther talked at me, his voice becoming background noise.

  “...the Aramatta will do a ceremonial drill...then after the head cleric reads from the Sacriva, you will...”

  I can’t believe he just left. Why did I let him walk away? Should I have gone with him? Is he right? Why did I hesitate?

  I stared straight up to keep the tears at bay.

  Of course, Lucas doesn’t trust the Monarchy. They slaughtered his father and his sisters; they betrayed his maker. But things are different now. I’m here. And they bow to me. This isn’t the time to flee, when there’s so much we don’t know and when my mind doesn’t always seem to be mine.

  I’d witnessed Ryka and her boyfriend’s perennial arguments and they always ended when Raj fled in a frustrated fury. She would obsess about his tone or his heated words and affirm that it was “over for sure” this time. But he would text her a few hours later, “Hey” or “Hi” as if nothing had happened, and Ryka would accept the text as a white flag.

  No, he must be coming back.

  The difference was that Ryka and Raj had been together since junior high and as Dr. Femi had reminded me, I had only known Lucas for a couple of weeks. What did he owe me? What did I expect? That we would live here together happily ever after? Have a vampire marriage until death (number two) do us part?

  The first person Lucas called for help was Samira. The only vampire he trusts. His ex-freaking-partner, I thought. They’d known each other for centuries. They’d dated for decades. Of course he would turn to her. I pictured her slinking around Lucas and batting her feathery eyelashes. I pictured his fingers in her violet punk-rock hair and his other hand stroking her impossibly long legs.

  But he came back to save me. He risked his life for me. He must care about me. He has to know that I care about him and I am going to protect him.