by Kayleigh Sky
“I received the postcards in the drawer there a few weeks ago.” He tipped his chin at the table Rune stood by.
Rune opened the drawer and stared into it. A frown puckered his brows, and he set the cup down and extracted the cards. His frown deepened as he shuffled through the small stack.
“A few days after that my phone caught fire… While I was using it. Apparently, I’m in their way.”
Rune’s face had flushed as red as the cup. “Why? Why are they escalating? They don’t know I gave you the necklaces, and that’s the only reason to come after you. Who else but you and Otto know you have them?”
“I don’t have them.”
Rune’s jaw tightened. “I gave them to Otto.
“Why, Rune?”
Zev still didn’t understand why Rune had given Otto the necklaces. They were the key to the treasure Rune had been hunting for years. People—human and vampire—had died over them.
Rune’s bark of a laugh took him aback. “Jessa called me a murderer. Me. He didn’t trust me anymore.” A whisper of fear passed through his eyes as though… You don’t trust yourself?
“Giving them to Otto was a show of good faith,” Rune added. “I knew you’d keep them safe.”
“Otto lost them trying to get out of the mines.”
The color drained from Rune’s face, but then he laughed again and said, “You’re a liar.”
He was, but he’d buried those damn necklaces, and he wasn’t digging them back up. The treasure was a fairytale anyway.
Letting out a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair and nodded at the cup. “So they expect me to drink out of that?”
“I don’t know,” said Rune. “It’s not fast acting, but it would make you look incompetent.”
“So what? I’m king for life.”
Was that pain in Rune’s eyes? Zev hardened himself. Why shouldn’t he be in pain? So was Zev. He’d let Rune convince him the Ellowyn would never accept Rune as king after Qudim’s death. “I never made my vow,” Rune had whispered, referring to the blood oath he was supposed to have given on his eighteenth birthday—the day of the Upheaval.
“Your vow is to your people, Rune.”
Zev still wished he could snatch those words back. They’d been throwaway words meant only to comfort, but Rune’s eyes had burned deep inside, and he’d drop to his knees at Zev’s feet. “I don’t deserve my people. I murdered him, and I have to pay.”
Zev had fallen to the ground too and hugged Rune close to his chest. “We didn’t murder him. This is a war.”
A bloody and destructive war that echoed on long after humans had agreed to peace. Scars still marred the human cities, and the vampire cities still lay forgotten. But the Adi ’el Lumi did not forget. They wanted the treasure. They wanted power. They wanted human blood.
And Rune wanted to stop them.
He hid his pain now, masking it in a frown as he eyed the cup. “Or maybe it’s a message,” he said. “This is a copy of Qudim’s.”
“To an imitation king,” Zev said through clenched teeth.
Rune replaced the postcards and approached him. “What do you want me to do, Zev? Give up? Give in? After everything we’ve done?”
Zev sighed and turned away. “How do you know about this lucanith? I’ve never heard of it before.”
“I found a bottle in Protis’s shop after the earthquakes. Everything else—his artwork, supplies—was smashed to bits, but the bottle of lucanith was still on the shelf. Odd to be upright in its place when nothing else was. I picked it up, and I could smell it. Later, I looked it up. I thought I’d heard of it before, but I wasn’t sure. It’s derived from a rare ore, found in only a few places deep in the earth. Protis added it to the cup he made my father. I wondered about him for a while after I found out what it was.”
“You thought he poisoned Qudim? Protis was loyal.”
Rune’s stare bored into him. “You can’t trust loyalty.”
“You can trust mine.”
Another smile danced across Rune’s face. “I trust your love more.”
“Tell me what you’re doing, Rune. People have died.”
Rune squeezed the back of his neck, and his expression darkened. “I want the necklaces. I have to have them, Zev. We have—”
“Let it go.”
“Zev. Listen to me.” He took Zev’s arms. “You have to be realistic. You can do nothing, and they will still want the necklaces. Brillen Acalliona had one, but that’s not why he died. I stopped him from draining a whore. I had no choice.” His face twisted. “He was a parasite. Trust me, you would have done the same. But the dead drainers you found out about? Otto’s sister?” He let Zev go and waved a hand. “That wasn’t me.”
“Who?”
“You know who. Solomon. I just…”
Zev waited, but Rune remained silent, frowning into the fire across the room. “What?”
“Solomon’s a follower,” Rune said, “and I… I have no idea who he’s following.”
“Royal?”
“You lead them, Zev. Who resists you?”
“Nobody outwardly.”
“Well, somebody wants those necklaces and an end to human freedom.”
“The treasure doesn’t exist.”
Rune chuckled. “You don’t want it to exist.”
“We saw a fault in the Thusia Cave only hours before the Upheaval. A fault is all it was.”
“No matter what you think, Zev—and you’re wrong—somebody wants you to die a slow death for real. The Nezzarrams are the second family now and linked to Solomon. Do you remember the Rilith Collection?”
Zev frowned. “Vaguely. Wasn’t it on display at the Celestine Library?”
Rune nodded. “That was why lucanith had sounded familiar to me. The pieces in the collection were ten thousand years old, but the chest by itself lit the entire chamber. That was from the lucanith. It works on metal, jewels, and glass. A small amount is safe to ingest. We could have drunk out of the Rilith goblets without danger. But too much…”
“The Nezzarrams,” Zev murmured. “It’s so obvious, it’s not even clever.”
Rune stepped closer and cupped Zev’s face again. “Trust no one but me.”
“Don’t disappear.”
Rune shook his head. “You’ll see me again soon. I might have found another necklace.”
“Rune—”
“This will end soon.”
This. Whatever this was.
“Who is Emek?”
Rune frowned and stepped back. “Emek?”
“You told Jessa to tell me about him.”
“Oh.” Rune’s frown deepened again. “He was on the train with Jessa. I…” Something in his eyes changed, and he said, “I thought he was badly injured. It turned out he wasn’t. I helped move the seat he was pinned under.”
The lie was heavy in his voice.
“And?” Zev asked.
“I felt… a connection. A connection to you.”
“An enemy?”
“No,” said Rune. “I would have let him die.”
Let him? But Rune had said he wasn’t injured. What are you up to, my friend?
Zev did trust him, but he was tired of having to. He let out a sigh. “I don’t know anybody by that name.”
Rune backed away. “Maybe you will. Don’t drink from the cup.”
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Be careful.”
He nodded, his smile wistful. “Happy birthday, Zev.”
“Rune, I—”
But just like that, Rune was gone, dissolving into the shadows.
9
Tag Along
The car blazed into the setting sun. Asa stared after it until it disappeared. Maybe he should have flagged it down. Maybe whoever was following him had gotten a car. He needed a ride, because he didn’t know where he was and being this afraid of everything was making him sick to his stomach.
And pissed.
He’d survived
on his own for years. He didn’t need help. He didn’t like to give it either. He’d learned the hard way not to trust other people, and time had fired that lesson into his brain for good. It wasn’t anything he’d forget now.
The ocean was nearby, hidden by the hills, but he had a feeling he was heading away from it.
He strode through the weeds and stared back into the eucalyptus. The tree trunks loomed pale in the dusk. Tiny stars winked, and a rosy blush spread across the horizon.
It was a balmy February, but still cold, and he rubbed his arms as he walked, watching wisps of fog slip out of the trees in front of him.
A couple miles later, he came on an old gas station and got his flashlight out of his bag. The beam glinted off a chain-link fence. He walked alongside it until he found a section that had peeled away from the base. After he shoved his knapsack through, he crawled underneath it and made for the dark building. The glass in the door had fallen out, probably a long time ago, because somebody had swept the shards away. A blackened trashcan stood on the floor inside.
Now all he needed was wood. He had a lighter, but not much energy. How long would it take to collect enough for a fire? He lowered his knapsack to the floor, then straightened and looked back outside. His legs shook though, so he sat against a wall, let his head fall back, and closed his eyes.
He’d only rest for a few minutes. After that, he’d go look for wood.
The rough fabric of the knapsack scraped against his fingers as his hand slipped to the gritty floor, and the face of the vampire from his boyhood floated into the dark in front of his eyes.
Usually, it infuriated him when the vamp invaded his thoughts. Now, though, it was only a reminder of why he didn’t hitch rides or live with friends. Friends turned on you. Even Mateo had set him up with a murderer, and Mateo wasn’t a real friend, just somebody he’d known and worked with a few times. Somebody he’d thought trustworthy enough not to send him into the arms of a fake drainer.
Asa had been so damn careful before that. He was a blood whore, a plain whore when he was honest about it, but that bastard Acalliona had planned to drink every last drop of his blood until a weird fog had surrounded them and Asa had gotten away. He’d been hungry and had trusted Mateo and had almost died, but it hadn’t hurt his heart. Nothing hurt his heart anymore. Not even the memory of his vampire’s lies.
Always so damn secretive.
It’s better you don’t know much about me for now. Safer.
Safer for the vamp.
Nothing was safe for Asa.
His chin fell forward, stretching his neck. Whoever the bastard was who’d drunk from him had taken too much. Usually he felt relaxed and energized after feeding somebody, but not this time. This time he felt… emptied.
Like Solomon’s feeder had looked.
He shivered as the cold hit him again.
How many minutes had passed? He should get up. Get some wood. Why did it surprise him to feel empty? Vampires drank blood.
But he hadn’t expected Solomon to set him up as somebody’s donor either. It wasn’t the first time somebody had used him, but he had no idea who’d drunk from him or why it was such a mystery.
Something—a noise?—jerked him back awake. He sat frozen against the wall and inhaled the scent of sweat, tangy and fresh like sun-warmed linen. And not his. A whisper of a step broke the silence, followed by the sound of something heavy dragging on a rough surface. His backpack. No way to make that quiet.
He lunged.
Somebody in front of him squealed and backpedaled. He plowed into a shadow, and a body stumbled backwards, arms and legs flailing at him.
“Stop! I wasn’t… Stop!”
That was his fucking knapsack. His things. The last of his things. Not even his blood was his anymore. He swung his fist and bounced off something that said, “Oomph.” Then he swung again and cut through the air. This time his feet went out from under him, and he crashed onto the floor. Fuck.
He kicked, but nobody came after him. He heard panting. Heard the swipe of his bag on the floor again.
“Fucker.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but you have food.”
My granola bars.
He scrambled onto his feet. “Give it back.”
“Okay.”
His knapsack hit him in the chest and fell to the floor. He jumped toward the voice, collided with somebody and almost knocked him over. He got another, “Oomph,” and wrapped his arms around a scrawny body.
“You bastard,” he said.
The guy twisted, and Asa stomped on a foot.
“Ow! Let go. I’m sorry.”
“You were following me.” Shaking the guy got him a knee in the thigh. Asa gasped and held on. “You wanna steal from me?”
“No.”
He let go with one hand and threw a punch. He wasn’t sure it hit, but the guy staggered, and they both fell. He landed on top but slammed his head on the floor.
“Shit,” the guy muttered, scrambling out from under him.
Asa groaned.
“Are you okay?”
Fuck, did this bastard care?
He reared up, but the guy held onto him. “Let me look.”
“Get away from me.”
“Wait. I’ll start a fire.”
A fire? Jesus Christ, who was this guy?
At the raps of receding steps, Asa pushed onto his knees and squinched his eyes shut.
Fuck.
He saw sparks in his head. Swallowing, he sat back and patted around on the floor for his knapsack. Nothing. The bastard.
The rapping footsteps returned in an irregular rhythm. The guy panted. “I got a bunch of branches. They smell good too.”
“My pack.”
“It’s here. I didn’t take it. Do you have any matches?”
“A lighter,” he murmured.
He sat and blinked at the shadow in front of him. The guy pushed Asa’s knapsack into his lap.
“Here.”
After fumbling at it for a few seconds, he got the flap loose and dug inside to an interior pocket where he kept the lighter and brought it out. “Don’t take it.”
“I won’t.”
“Right,” muttered Asa.
“Look, I’m sorry.”
“You said that already.”
Asa had zero urge to befriend this guy.
Lowering his head, he rested it on his palms until flames crackled, then he stared into the glow of the fire. It wasn’t big enough for warmth yet, but it sent the shadows scurrying to the corners. The light spread across the ceiling and burnished the face of the guy—
The kid.
He was barely in his twenties from the look of him. Willowy with tousled hair and a fidgety gaze. He kept his distance on the other side of the can.
“I’m not a thief,” the guy said. “I’m just—” His stomach growled. “Fuckin’ hungry.”
That wasn’t Asa’s damn problem, but keeping his feet under him was a struggle, though now he had a fire. If nothing else, he didn’t take from people, and he paid his debts. He grabbed two bars out of his sack and stretched them out.
“Here. We’ll have one more for breakfast. Then nothing.”
The kid took them and planted himself on the floor in front of him. The heat from the can spread out and enveloped them. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back. I’ll get some more wood in a minute too.”
He ripped open one of the bars and crammed half in his mouth.
“You don’t have to pay me back. I have a job waiting for me.”
“You’re lucky,” the kid mumbled over his food. His nostrils flared as he chewed, and Asa’s own stomach knotted. The feel of hunger was never far. He unwrapped a bar and took a bite.
“I don’t know about luck. It’s for vampires.”
“As long as they pay you. I know some nice ones.”
Asa grimaced. “A vampire lover, huh?”
The kid swallowed and stared at him for a moment. “I like some. I don’t like othe
rs.”
“I like to keep my distance.”
The fire gleamed in the kid’s eyes, and for a moment, Asa imagined he had x-ray vision or telepathic powers. Something that stripped Asa bare in front of him. He had to look half drained. It wasn’t like a human had done that to him. His gut clenched at the memory, and he forced down the next bite of his bar.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Lookin’ for somebody.”
“Where?” Asa still wasn’t sure where he was.
The kid gave a breathy laugh. “I don’t know. Just going by instinct, I guess.”
Asa frowned. “You’re just wandering around, hoping you’ll run into him? Or her?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Fine. You don’t have to tell me.”
“I did tell you.”
“What’s your name?”
“Isaac.”
The hackles rose on the back of his neck. But it was only a name. Lots of people had that name. “Who feeds Jessamine?” The memory of that night—of being drained on purpose—brought a cold sweat out on his body. “Isaac,” he’d said.
“Where are you from?”
“Comity.”
Asa rose, staggering drunkenly once he got to his feet. “Are you following me?”
“What?” Isaac rose too, not backing away, but stiff and alert. “Is that where you’re from?”
“Answer the question.”
“I told you. I’m looking for somebody.”
“Who?”
“Look. I’m not out to get you. I’m not following you. Nobody sent me. I’m just looking for somebody I worked for once. I have nothing to hold me anywhere, that’s all.”
“No family?”
“Not anymore.”
No feelings of sympathy or camaraderie arose in him, but Asa let out a pent-up sigh. It was a common story. His own even. A story with variations, but always the same story. And vampires were always the heroes, always the winners.
He sank back down. “You can stay, I guess. I owe you.”
Isaac nodded and opened his second bar. “Do you think they might have a job for me too?”
“What about your friend?”
“Gotta live in the meantime. I can stick with you and make sure you get there okay. You don’t look too good.”