Blood and Sin (The Infernari Book 1)

by Laura Thalassa

  I sensed Lana watching my pathetic movements out of the corner of my eye.

  “I want to try to heal you,” she blurted out.

  “You can’t. I’m not in your network,” I said, then added, “although I’m touched.”

  “I know, but I want to try. I think I know a way.” She sat crosslegged on her seat and faced me. “I could tap into my healing power, as if I was going to heal Infernari, but then we could both cut ourselves and push our wounds together, so we have our own blood connection . . . and then I could direct my healing power into you.” She described this scenario as if she would enjoy it very much.

  “Like a blood mixing, blood brother kind of thing, I get it.” I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’ll heal on my own. I’m not cursing anybody. And put on your seatbelt.”

  I’d buckled her into my Hummer this morning while she was mostly out of it, and that had probably saved her life.

  “You’ll heal much faster if I do it,” she said. “Right now you’re healing as fast as a stone.”

  “Adding insult to injury—nice,” I said dryly. “Seatbelt, now.” I snapped my fingers, then flipped on the radio. It blared staticky music.

  She continued to study me, biting her lip. Wondering just how mad I would be if she did it anyway.

  I tried another station. More static.

  The seatbelt buckle clinked uselessly behind her head.

  Exhaling loudly, I reached across her and dragged the strap across her chest down to the buckle, clicking it in place. “There, so when I crash again because you’re acting like a five-year-old, you don’t go skidding two hundred feet on your face.”

  After the Primaxin antibiotic injection, she had perked right up. The infected cut on her arm had already tamed, and she was even managing to keep warm in a normal T-shirt. Thank God for modern medicine.

  For the next two weeks, she would be on a course of oral antibiotics, and I intended her to follow through. I wasn’t going to risk Lana relapsing.

  I gave up on the radio and straightened, bumping my head again. “So you share blood with other demons . . . literally?” I asked. “Like, their blood is your blood, and your blood is their blood, right? So how does that work when you have sepsis?”

  “Sepsis?” she repeated quizzically.

  “An infection in your blood,” I explained. “What you just had. Doesn’t that bacteria get spread around to other demons?”

  Lana pursed her lips, considering it. “Well, it feels like decay lingers in my blood when I’m sick, and if I healed others while I felt that way, the bad spirits would slip from my veins to theirs. So I don’t try healing them. I guess that if I did, I could get other Infernari sick, too.”

  “So you can turn it off? The blood connection?”

  “Yeah, it’s like a gate. I have to open it to pass my magic onto others.”

  “Huh.” I chewed my lip, my heart rate picking up at this news.

  I didn’t like where my brain took it.

  Lana had a blood connection to other demons. To all other demons. She could access this connection at will, and when she did, her blood would literally be flowing in their veins . . . along with whatever else was put in her blood.

  And here, I’d thought she was only valuable as a hostage.

  If what she said was true, then Lana could very well be the Infernari’s Achilles’ heel.

  God knew they already had a weakness to disease . . .

  No.

  To do such a thing would be unthinkable, too cruel to imagine. I couldn’t do that to Lana.

  I couldn’t betray her like that. If ever there was an Infernarus deserving of redemption, it would be her.

  I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck, wondering when I had grown a conscience . . . and when I had stopped hating the demon in Lana and started liking it instead.

  She was turning me, just like she’d said.

  But it didn’t matter; I would still follow through on my original plan. I wasn’t doing this out of hate, I was doing it out of duty. And the plan was still the same: destroy demons’ portals, cut them off from Earth, make them fend for themselves on their dying planet rather than leech off ours.

  That was the only justice.

  Lana could stay.

  Suddenly, she gasped, unbuckled her seatbelt, and leapt out of her seat, pressing her face and palms to her window.

  “Seatbelt, Lana.” Jesus.

  “Can we stop here?” she asked.

  The last few hours, we’d been chugging up the rim of a volcanic caldera, and we’d just reached the top. I followed her gaze out across the hellish landscape at the bottom of the crater. Stretching as far as the eye could see, miles and miles of blackened, charred rock were pockmarked with steaming, bubbling pools of milky acid, the edges crusted with yellow rings of sulfur. The smell of rotten eggs invaded the car.

  “Augh—” I dragged my tank top over my nose. “You want to stop here?”

  Lana nodded, gazing wistfully out at the crater.

  “Oh-kay.” The road took us down into the crater, and I pulled over near a particularly nasty pool of bubbling goop. “Just don’t, like, swim in it.”

  “It’s just like Abyssos,” she marveled.

  Me, I wasn’t that impressed. But hey, she seemed to like it.

  The moment the car stopped, she was out the door and prancing out across the barren, alien landscape.

  I stepped out and cracked my back, grateful to straighten my spine for once. Then I leaned against the car and pushed up my sunglasses to watch her, one eyebrow cocked as she twirled around like a kid trying to catch snowflakes.

  I couldn’t help but smile.

  I’d heard about Abyssos, about the vast plains of charred lava rock, the bloodred sun setting behind purple clouds, the weathered castle spires that looked like they’d been there since the dawn of time. It all sounded terrifying and eerily beautiful. I could see how this reminded her of it.

  I guess you just loved the place you grew up in.

  You know what, I did want her to take me through the portal and show me her world—not to fulfill some oath, but just because.

  I wanted to watch her carve a bone shiv, and train a gargoyle, and whisper prayers to her gods. I wanted her to show me everything. To teach me. I wanted to see it through her eyes, marvel at the strangeness of it, blunder through her people’s customs like she had through ours. And I wanted to watch her hair snap about when I irritated her, sink when I made her sad, and purr when I made her happy.

  I wanted to make her happy.

  Right then, I did something very strange.

  I pulled out my cell phone, centered her in the screen, and took a video of Lana dancing around the craters . . . because I wanted to keep this forever.

  This moment, this feeling, this magic.

  I wanted to keep her.

  Chapter 18

  Lana

  Today was our final day on the road.

  Our. Last. Day.

  My necklaces jingled from the jittery excitement that buzzed through me. Tomorrow, we’d truly begin the hunt for the portal. And once we found it, we’d cross over, and I’d show Asher my world.

  I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly nervous. He hadn’t seemed too impressed with the sulfur springs. What would he think of the rest of my world?

  Outside my window, dense, bright green foliage covered the land. The thick heat of the place seemed to cling to me.

  This was surprisingly similar to Abyssos’s capitol. Well, similar enough.

  The road curved, and a copse of trees that lined the street fell away. The land spread out before us; at the sight of it I gasped.

  “Asher . . .”

  Rising far above the horizon was the mountain fr
om my memory. Snow-capped and purple, it dwarfed the landscape around it.

  Goosebumps broke out at the sight of it. Old magic lingered here. Old magic and old gods. I could feel them. Restless, ancient spirits. Things even humans gave respect to.

  Next to me, Asher peered up at it. I saw excitement spark in his eyes; his expression was utterly devoid of the trepidation I felt. This land was sowed with centuries of human blood. The earth hungered for it, and Asher was oblivious to it.

  And why would he notice it? Humans hadn’t gotten to where they were by listening to quiet things.

  We passed a collapsing structure, the faded paint peeling off its walls, half of the tiled roof missing. Derelict, rotting structures dotted the land. But then there were dozens more that weren’t abandoned. Even out here, people lived.

  Is there any corner of this world that is free from humans?

  A single one of these cities held more inhabitants than my entire homeland. And the lush fauna I should’ve seen co-existing with the natives was noticeably absent, save for a few herds of domesticated beasts, corralled together behind fences.

  How could Asher not see that humans had grossly overextended themselves? All other creatures were suffering for it, not just my own people.

  He loves them, just as you love your kind.

  I couldn’t fault Asher for caring too much.

  I spared him another glance. Grim, as usual. I suppressed a smile when I took in that body of his hunched over the steering wheel, his head dipped to avoid bumping the ceiling. The small car made him look comically large.

  He caught sight of my smile. “What?”

  I shook my head and played with a strand of my hair. “Nothing.”

  “Whenever you smile, I worry.”

  Asher wasn’t looking at my smile like it worried him. He was looking at it as though vividly remembering the last time his lips were on mine.

  My grin dropped away as my thoughts moved in the same direction. His large stature hadn’t been comical then. No, I’d distinctly enjoyed the way he enveloped me when we kissed.

  “So . . . have you ever been serious with anyone?” he asked out of nowhere, clearing his throat a little.

  I tilted my head at him.

  “Ever had a boyfriend?” he clarified.

  “Of course—many.” Was this some sort of wily human question?

  “Many?” he raised his eyebrows.

  “What is that look?” I said.

  He tore his gaze away from me to watch the road. “I’m just surprised is all.”

  Asher was acting weird. This whole conversation was weird.

  I continued to stare after him. “Doesn’t everybody have boy friends?” I said.

  Now it was his turn to look quizzical. His eyes widened and his mouth parted as a thought hit him. He huffed out a laugh, rubbing his jaw with his hand as he shook his head. I pretended the gesture didn’t make my pulse race.

  “No, not like that, Lana,” he said, his voice gravelly.

  My brows pulled together. “Then like what?”

  “A boyfriend is someone you’re romantic with . . . a lover.”

  He had my full attention. “A lover?” I felt my face heat.

  Now I remembered the terms. Girlfriend and boyfriend. The words always confused me because Infernari didn’t really have an equivalent. We had betrotheds and courtships and mates. The human equivalents never quite worked out right in my mind.

  “What do you mean, romantic?”

  “Dates, kisses, sex.”

  I swallowed, my cheeks flaming. Asher knew all about those things, and I knew nothing, save for what he showed me. For the first time in my life I felt . . . inexperienced.

  I couldn’t look at him when I answered, “We don’t—no, I’ve never been courted.”

  I saw concern—and curiosity—pass across his expression. “Why not?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Dating is something humans do. Infernari don’t think of romantic relationships the same way.”

  “But no one’s ever tried to . . . court you?” Asher seem to be grappling with this idea.

  There had been a soldier, Figulus, who had given me a starflower the day before he went into battle. I threw his flower away in a fit of grief when I felt his death. That was the closest I’d ever come to a mate, though I’d felt the weighty, wanton gazes of many Infernari over the years. Nothing ever came of those looks. Once I was under the tutelage and protection of the primus dominus, no one wanted to pursue me, not when that would bring them under the close scrutiny of the primus.

  “Some have tried,” I said. “None have gotten very far. Why do you care?”

  Asher shook his head. “I just find it hard to believe that you’ve gone this long without being snatched up.”

  “If things were different, would you snatch me up, Jame Asher?”

  His gaze focused on the road, no longer playful, but brooding. “If things were different, someone better than me would snatch you up,” he admitted.

  That made me sad. “I don’t know why you think you’re a bad person.”

  “There’s no thinking about it—I know I’m a bad person. But I’m a bad person that hunts worse people, so I’ve made peace with what I am.”

  “Almost every Infernarus kills,” I say. “Most well before the age of twenty.”

  Asher flashed me a disbelieving look. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Yes,” I said simply. Just because one killed didn’t mean they enjoyed it. Often it was duty, loyalty, love that drove my kind to end a life.

  “You’re comparing me to demons,” Asher said. “Of course I don’t seem bad—the last one we came across tried to drown us both in glass jugs. And the one before that snuck into my room and put leeches on my chest. Your kind is all sorts of fucked up. Now, compare me to an average human—”

  “Your kind refrains from killing because there’s no need to. But the moment humans start to get a bit desperate . . . we have records detailing the carnage they’ve wrought. Carnage that we played no part in. Don’t act like your kind is any better or worse than mine.”

  “You’re right, we’re a bunch of douchebags . . . but at least we don’t feed off others’ misfortune.”

  “Every creature alive feeds on anoth—” My spine stiffened as a thick, cloying sensation washed over me.

  I sat up straighter, glancing at the land around us. The thick, green landscape was giving way to buildings as we entered a crumbling town.

  I felt Asher’s eyes on me. “What is it?” His tone had completely changed.

  I shook my head, the tips of my hair flaring red. “Something is amiss.”

  Our car slowed as we entered the town.

  Alpatlahuác, a sign read.

  Nothing stirred, nothing but that feeling, which mounted the deeper in we drove into the city.

  Black birds—crows—perched on the edges of buildings, cawing as we passed. Lines of them watched us, but others . . . they seemed to fight each other, clawing at one another with their talons.

  The grisly sensation closed up my windpipe. Sometimes I felt this way, but only after . . . only after . . .

  “Asher,” I whispered. “Pull over.”

  Whatever he saw when he looked at me, he didn’t question my request or my motives. Our car pulled to the side of the road.

  Dread filled me.

  “We need to check on the townspeople.” I said, my voice hushed.

  His brows knitted as he took me in. “What’s out there?”

  I swallowed. “I don’t know.”

  But we’d find out soon enough.

  The street was devoid of human life. Not even the sound of distant engines filled the air. Now I had to reconsider my belief t
hat humans couldn’t sense this wrongness in the air; no other outsiders but us entered the city.

  More crows gathered along storefronts and power cables of the main street. Scavengers. Asher and I exchanged a look as we began heading into the town on foot.

  Alpatlahuác was a small but pretty city, with its red tiled roofs and brightly painted buildings, and it was its beauty that made the unnatural stillness of the place all the more ominous.

  We turned down a side street, and at the other end of it I heard an echoing Spanish melody coming from what looked like a small market, its door propped open.

  I pointed to it and Asher nodded, his gun now in hand.

  As we got closer, the music got louder, blending with the caws of crows.

  My heart beat faster and faster and faster as I choked on the macabre sensation.

  Magic gone wrong.

  Everything grew—the cawing, the music, the pulse pounding between my ears. Once we reached the door, Asher stepped in front of me, his gun pointed inside. My boots crunched against something, and I glanced down. The glass of the door had shattered.

  I was beginning to feel faint. Hadn’t I seen this a dozen times before?

  “Jesus Christ.”

  My head snapped up.

  Asher stood just a few steps ahead of me, his hand dragging down his mouth and chin, his gaze sweeping over the store.

  Several bodies littered the area.

  I staggered back, my body bumping into the doorway. I choked on shock, on the bastardized magic, on the smell of meat, of rot, of death. The kind of death that left a body to fester and decompose.

  It surrounded me. These had been people—beings that once had vivid, beautiful existences. They’d loved, and laughed, and lived.

  But no more.

  One tear dripped down my cheek, then another. So much death.

  That’s what I felt here. Senseless death and dark magic taken by force.