And now, I should be sleeping.
Dorian and I had been placed in the finest accommodations the HQ had to offer, a small room with a large window and a double bed in the adjoining housing block. The mattress was soft and comfortable, but the stark white of the linens reminded me of how much brighter it was in this world. I’d drawn only one of the curtains just to let in some of the precious light I’d missed in the Immortal Plane.
Dorian shifted slightly beside me. I glanced up at my sleeping companion, curling closer. I loved resting my head on his chest, listening to his breathing. Going from zero contact to tangling up in the same bed made me so happy; our adventures rarely allowed for such a thing. My eyes slid from his handsome face to the window. The blue sky of the Mortal Plane was fading into a blood-red sunset as the day ended.
My sky, no souls in sight. I was intensely happy to be home.
In the bleeding sunset of the Mortal Plane, I could already scarcely remember the fear I’d felt in the presence of rulers such as Sempre and Irrikus and Zeele. Irrikus’s face and the cut-glass curve of his smile came clumsily to me when I recalled it, as if my brain was trying to trick me into thinking it was all a bad dream. Yet he was inflicting unspeakable damage on my home, without ever leaving his own plane.
My brain had barely been able to keep up during the meetings because there was so much information to track. I was glad that Ruiz and her team had handled everything, because I was far from able to do so.
The new board members, several calling from across the country as news of Moab’s destruction spread, proved to be excellent support, and I relished having that again. Spurred on by the news that both Clemmins and Runyard were still missing, Ruiz and the other members ordered an emergency grant to the standing request from the VAMPS camp for resources. Major Morag and her team could borrow models of the Bureau’s advanced paranormal scanning equipment, a unique technological advantage held by the Americans, since we’d been studying the paranormal for far longer than Europe. This would allow Morag to set up an early warning system for the camp, scanning for revenants in case of a second attack targeting the compound. In return, the board had requested that anyone willing, whether they held an offer of an independent contract from the Bureau or not, come to help US forces with the Moab devastation. Fenton called in personally to say that he was currently pulling strings in Congress, the Department of Homeland Security, and the Department of Defense to grant special permission for the journey.
Ruiz had placed Inkarri in a secure cell in the main HQ building, a few blocks from our accommodation area. Dorian had instructed the Bureau that their newest captive was a valuable asset, and that if they wanted her to survive, she would need dark energy. He suggested modifying the X-75s to put darkness into her system.
“Would that work to feed the vampires in Scotland?” she asked, furrowing her brow.
Dorian hesitated. After what he’d been through, I knew he’d rather starve than get blasted with one of those things again.
“Perhaps,” he finally said unenthusiastically. “At a much, much lower concentration.”
“I’ll pass that along,” Ruiz had said, but I got the sense that tinkering with the X-75s was low on her long laundry list of things to do right now. If I was entirely truthful, Inkarri’s death would upset me, even if she was a heartless killer. The desperation and despair that had overwhelmed me in the sanitarium were still too fresh in my mind for me to not empathize with Inkarri, knowing that she was in a very similar situation. She was alone in a strange plane, weak, wounded, and starving. Just as I had, she was no doubt wondering if she would ever see her home again.
Dorian sighed in his sleep, his face twitching slightly. Setting aside my thoughts of the hunter, I studied his sharp cheekbones, still a little pink from where he’d scrubbed away the grime in a hot shower. I was jealous of his ability to sleep after all this. My mind just wouldn’t let my body rest. Part of it was likely due to how thoroughly screwed my internal clock was, after being in a place with no sense of time. My sleep patterns promised to be a mess for a while. Since I was up anyway, I might as well use the bathroom.
On my way back to the bedroom, a sleepy hiss caught my ear. I smirked at Gate Maker snoozing on the windowsill in the kitchenette. Still in tiny snake form, he’d curled up immediately in a sunny patch and had fallen asleep hours ago. Ruiz’s face was priceless when I explained to her that the snake was non-negotiable. Without giving away any compromising details, I managed to convince her by saying he was a creature we picked up from the Immortal Plane who we would bring back on our next trip. Our newest ally had blissfully kept his mouth shut and slept through all the briefings in my pocket. I couldn’t tell whether Ruiz believed me. My money was on her being too overwhelmed right now to push back, or too worried that my tired brain might explode if she continued to ask questions. Trained soldier or not, nobody did well after twenty-four hours of being awake.
I crawled back into bed and stared at the ceiling in a daze. The last time I’d felt any semblance of safety was before we left Juneau’s house for the party… no, maybe before we’d left for our adventure in the Immortal Plane. I should sleep more. It was a lot for a human body to feel unsafe for so long, adrenaline coursing through the veins constantly like this. My body required full strength if I expected to recover from everything and help the efforts going forward.
Worries, like circling shadows, manifested as memories and fragments of films. My eyes begged the dimming sky outside to make it all go away, but that’s the thing about memories. They demand to be remembered. The dark red sunset suddenly melted into Zeele’s blood as I relived amputating his hand, the way the blood had spurted over me. I clenched my eyes shut, only to see Rhome tear the gem from Kreya’s head, followed by her wail of pain. Kane’s face, vulnerable with genuine fear, flashed before me in the moment he was nearly thrown into the plant’s gaping carnivorous mouth. Roxy and Kane fighting, goaded on by the pain from their collars. Dorian’s fangs sinking into my neck during our torturous experiment, only to be ripped away as Inkarri threw him into the chasm. I shuddered, unable to stop the devastating recollections of disasters and close calls.
I opened my eyes again. The sky was nearly dark now. Even with Dorian beside me, the Mortal Plane no longer felt safe. Those revenants had phased into this world, and I knew exactly what they were capable of. Our enemies were no longer limited to the tear and gates. This wave of darkness was merely the first taste of destruction. There would be no grand one-off battle to settle things. This was war.
You did what you could.
I let myself sink into Dorian. His fingers gently brushed my shoulder for a moment. I sighed against his warm touch, focusing on the feel of Dorian’s body, paying attention to the way his chest rose and fell. His lean, muscled form pressing into me brought waves of comfort and pleasure. I rested my ear over his chest and listened to his heartbeat. It pumped faster than I expected, despite him sleeping. Occasionally, his body trembled, and his face contorted painfully, as if he was fighting his own set of memories.
Dorian was just as affected as I was. When he woke up, we would have to talk and process everything. But now? Sleep. My eyelids grew heavier and heavier until soon the feeling of the white comforter slipped away completely.
I fell through the portal of colors again. My feet stumbled over sandy ground. I swung my hands out, but they found nothing. Angry orange seared my vision. Flames licked my sides. I gasped as the medic from before tapped my arm. He moved his mouth, but no words came out. The IV in my arm was all wrong. The bag contained blood, dark red liquid that danced with shadows. Vampire blood. Zeele’s gloating laugh floated around me.
A fury lit inside me, like the fuse of a bomb. I could see that poor woman from my visions again, on her knees as the man beat her. She sobbed, and each sob tore my chest open. Guilt solidified my limbs, but then I was no longer watching from the outside. I was her. My eyes filled with tears as the man tightened his hands around my neck. Terr
ified warm streaks ran down my face. The fire threatened to swallow us. No, not like this. I lunged for the man with inhuman strength and sank my teeth into him. He cried out, and his scream turned into smoke that blocked my vision. I ripped out a chunk of his flesh before the world tumbled into darkness.
“Lyra.”
The whisper came like a lullaby. I cracked my eyes open. Tears stung the wounds on my cheek. A shuddering sob left my mouth as familiar hands brushed my arms. They were safe hands, unlike those of the man in the dream. Anger and guilt surged through me. I choked on another sob that threatened to work its way out of my chest.
Dorian looked down at me, gently rocking us back and forth. My hands tried to move, but he held me gently by the wrists.
“You were thrashing in your sleep and crying,” he whispered. “I didn’t want you to hurt your ribs.” Despite the painkillers, they still ached as much as my grief.
I squirmed upward, and he helped me sit up. I immediately dove into his arms and leaned against his chest. He pressed his hand to my head, pulling me closer.
“It’s okay,” he promised. “I’m here. I know the pain.” He did. I trembled, nearly broken open by the way we could share our grief over everything. We did everything together. His touch brought me comfort, dampening the leftover sensation of guilt and horror from my dream. His touch couldn’t erase the pain, but it helped.
My chest warmed. Was my body finally calming down? The warmth turned to a familiar sizzle, but it was in the center of my chest. A spider-like chill walked down my spine as my hopes plummeted.
An all-too-familiar burn crept through my chest and up my throat.
Chapter Four
The burn steadied inside my chest as I pawed for the light on the bedside table. The warm yellow glow lit up the small room. The truth of it struck me with a devastating blow.
"No," I muttered, shaking my head as the pain insidiously pulsed again. I buried my face in Dorian’s chest, hiding my devastated expression from him.
He shifted on the rumpled bed until he knelt in front of me, gently pushing my hair away from my face. Those familiar icy eyes narrowed at me. "Lyra?"
The burning flared, bearable but steady; the curse had reared its ugly head again. The effect of the vampire blood had granted me peace for just over a day, but now we were back where we started.
He searched my face, and I watched as he picked up on the minute signals that I was no doubt giving off in response to this unique form of pain. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “The curse?”
I nodded, confirming his guess.
After everything we’d been through, everything we’d survived, I still couldn’t catch a break. Yes, on some level, I knew that the fix was only temporary, but… I’d wanted it to be permanent. I just wanted to get on with my life with Dorian. My gaze dropped to his hand, resting gently on the curve of my hip. I refused to give this up. Now that I had it, I could not give up the warmth and comfort from him. We’d worked too hard to be forced apart all over again.
A longing rose up inside me. “We need to figure out how to recreate what made this work,” I told him, aiming to sound resolute but feeling desperate. “I don’t want to go back to not being able to touch, or talk, or fight together. This situation across the two planes is getting so out of control that I don’t want risk being away from you… because I might lose you.” My throat tightened, pulse racing in response to my unexpected vulnerability. “We’re so close to a cure, Dorian, I just know it. We might not have another chance to talk about this anytime soon.” I knew that the next few days would be filled with Bureau business and strategizing against the fury unleashed by the rulers.
Dorian ran his fingers along my hip. My heartburn remained at the same level, thankfully not increasing, but not reducing either.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I feel the same way, but I want to go forward cautiously.” A slight smile danced across his face. “You think I want to ever give up being close to you? I want a cure as badly as you do, but after everything we’ve just survived… I don’t want to rush in just because we’re desperate.” His other hand brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
I relaxed into his touch, relieved that the pain remained a consistent sting. Cuddling was still on the table, at least. “Yeah… that’s probably a good idea. I’m not really in the headspace for decision-making right now.” The corner of my mouth lifted as I marveled at our conversation. It used to be Dorian pushing for a way to break the curse, while I exercised caution. Not anymore. Dorian wanted to take things slow.
“I’m not doing much better,” Dorian added. “It’s been a lot.”
I took a steadying breath. “It has… but I always feel better when we talk. It’s nice to be able to do that again.” I gently squeezed his hand, enjoying how strong and wide it felt in my grasp. It was time to consider what had happened to us in the Immortal Plane.
According to Echen, the scholar from the Hive, Dorian would have had to feed from me to hold off the effects of the curse. But then Zeele had muddied the waters by giving me a transfusion of vampire blood to replace what I’d lost.
“What do you think stopped the curse?” I whispered.
He readjusted his sitting position, his face thoughtful. “I don’t know,” he said. “The scholar said himself that his information was suspect. It could have been either exchange of blood.”
“Or a combination of the two,” I reasoned. “Looks like we might have to experiment to find out.” Although we were still weak, the idea of experimenting here, in relative privacy and safety, wasn’t that bad compared to experiments under the psychotic watch of the sanitarium staff.
Dorian dropped his gaze toward the tiny puncture the IV had left in the inner crook of my elbow. “I’m a vampire, and our whole thing is about balance. I just worry a little about deliberately putting more dark energy into your body when it’s not an emergency. Last time you didn’t have a choice, but now we do. What if it affects more than the just the curse? What if it does things to your body?”
“Like my super strength and improved fighting skills?” I cocked a brow. “It sure felt pretty good.”
“Well, yes,” he said, poking at my thigh in sweet chastisement, “that’s great, but what if it’s secretly hurting your organs or something? Or it gives you more horrific nightmares, like the one you just had? I just wish we knew more about that other human and vampire couple.”
He rubbed at a small nick on his jaw. It was fascinating how fast he healed. If I continued to receive vampire blood, maybe I would heal faster. Or maybe human bodies weren’t meant to be pumped full of vampire blood.
The nightmare from earlier was a warning I wasn’t foolish enough to ignore, but if we could find a sweet spot, it would be worth it. I circled my thumb on the back of his hand as I weighed the options. When I said I liked the effects of the vampire blood, I was speaking honestly… except for the terrible memories that had come along with it. Tell Dorian.
“I saw things immediately after the transfusion,” I said softly. “Not a nightmare, but like I was living it. I’m… I’m pretty sure it was the vampire blood. Part of it was memories like you see, I think, and part of it had to be a terrible dream.” My breath hitched as I recalled the hands around my throat. “Honestly, my mind hasn’t been right since our first trip to the Immortal Plane. We’ve been through so much. Dorian… do I seem darker to you?”
He hesitated, knowing an immediate soothing response would mean nothing to me. I needed to know he was telling me the truth. He dragged his gaze from the top of my head down to my legs curled up in the sheets.
“No,” he said finally. “Your aura feels the same.”
I sighed in relief.
“If we try to recreate the effects to keep the curse at bay, though, we need to do it in small doses.” He placed his thumb and index finger together, squishing down an invisible amount of blood between his fingers. “And I’ll keep a close eye on you.”
Tiny amounts I
could handle; Zeele had no doubt put me at risk of great harm pumping that much blood into me at once. I just needed enough to be around Dorian.
“If darkness comes from actions and not from contact, then I guess it’s safe to say that having vampire blood in me wouldn’t affect my aura,” I pointed out. “They aren’t my dark acts. I’d just be using the vampire blood, not the darkness in it, since I can’t process darkness into energy or anything, like you can. I’m kind of guessing the curse was stopped by the vampire blood muddling my human aura or something? Maybe?”
Dorian paused. “That sounds logical.” He ran a hand through his hair as he reflected. “Darkness certainly can’t pass from human to human, because otherwise your emergency blood transfusions would be a mess.”
“So I’d just be taking in the blood, and my body wouldn’t process the darkness?” I said, thinking back. “I mean, no vampires reacted to me, even though they were starving. So the vampire blood didn’t make me dark, even with that quantity. If we follow that logic, that means tinier amounts shouldn’t be an issue at all.” Our time in the sanitarium had given us a lot of information, in the end.
“Promising,” Dorian mused. “Do you remember how they did it?”
“Unfortunately, I do. It looked like a regular blood transfusion.” My eyes scanned the sparse room. “We don’t exactly have that kind of equipment handy. Can’t imagine asking Captain Ruiz for it, either.”
Dorian looked amused, then his eyes crinkled at the corners as he frowned thoughtfully. “How do you feel about drinking it?”
The thought naturally made me want to gag, but I understood his reasoning. If there was no way to inject it, then ingesting it by mouth might be the only solution. We couldn’t guarantee it would have the same effect, but this was our best chance to experiment with the process a little.
Darklight 5: Darktide Page 3