Sanguine Mountain

by Jennifer Foxcroft

  We walk into the dimly lit shop. I never realized how much we rely on electricity to illuminate places in the modern world. It never occurred to me that history is full of so much darkness, and I’m not referring to the Camazotz kind.

  The shop takes my breath away. The ceiling is covered in embossed tin, 3D light covers shaped like stars. Only three of them are lit up, but the light twinkles through the holes punched in the metal. Most of them have twelve points coming out, but some have so many points I can’t count them all.

  The wooden walls are smooth and stained with a dark varnish. It’s so fancy compared to Rocks’ raw wooden boards. The difference is that his is a workshop and selling space whereas this is just a display shop. The metal work is done out of sight.

  The first bench is covered in Christmas decorations—tall angels, more stars and a collection of smaller decoration you could hang on your tree. The far wall is filled with mirrors of different shapes and sizes. Each mirror has an elegantly embossed tin frame. My eyes roam over the patterns punched into the metal.

  “Those are gorgeous,” I say, pointing at the table holding rectangular jewelry boxes. Decker’s chest puffs out, and he opens a medium-sized box. It’s lined with dark purple velvet and has a mirror inside the lid.

  “Thanks. I made this two days ago,” he says, running a hand lovingly over the lid. “But the light fittings are the biggest seller.” He pulls a face. “My cousin, Jet, makes those.”

  Like Rocks, he seems to be able to read the thoughts swirling around in my mind. “His wing is named for gem stones.”

  “Cool.”

  I meander around the shop, running my fingers over interesting pieces. The boys trail behind patiently.

  “Can I buy something?”

  Decker stands tall, his smile owning his entire face. “Of course. How may I be of assistance, Miss?”

  Ezra shakes his head and walks out laughing. I buy the jewelry box he made this week. The embossed pattern creates a starry night sky over the surface. It reminds me of small creatures that fly up near those stars.

  We sit at a bench carved from a massive old tree, soaking up the fading afternoon sunlight. The boys are both wearing sunglasses but don’t seem to mind the warmth on their skin. I stare at the red mountain peak logo on the paper bag.

  Sanguine Mountain … My mind ticks over. Optimistic Mountain? Cheerful Mountain? That can’t be right, I think. I stare at the little red peak once more. Cheerful and optimistic are not exactly how I would describe the colony. I slide out my phone, trying to be discreet about it, and check my knowledge of the English language in my dictionary app and immediately wish I hadn’t. My blood curdles. I swallow and look at the boys chatting quietly.

  Sanguine also means blood-red. Blood-red Mountain? I’m glad I’m sitting down. I guess it’s going to literally be blood-red soon.

  “So you ready for tonight?” Ezra asks.

  I try to swallow but can’t speak. If I think too much about it, I’ll be back on the highway. The boys share a look I don’t understand. At this point, I figure the less I know the better. Ignorance is bliss. It really is sometimes.

  “Rocks is a pro. He’ll suck that blood out, and you won’t feel a thing,” Decker states.

  “Suck WHAT?” I sit up straight, looking from one boy to the other. “Sucking? He never mentioned sucking.”

  “Oh, hell,” Ezra says, shaking his head. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

  “Such a chicken,” Decker adds. They eye each other again.

  “Tell. Me.” I stand up and pace in front of them. The warmth from the sun is too much suddenly, and my skin burns from the heat trapped within me.

  “He has to suck the blood from you directly, Connie. Usually the neck is the best place. Occasionally vampire myths get it right.”

  I grab my forehead and take a seat before I embarrass myself. I suck air in, but the oxygen isn’t enough. “Drink from my neck?” I don’t think I brought my inhaler.

  They both nod. “If I was you, I’d head up to his shop. Let him do it in private before the gathering.” Ezra says quietly.

  “Yeah,” Decker agrees. “You don’t want everyone watching that.”

  I grip the edge of the wooden bench. Splinters are the least of my worries.

  My head is still spinning about Rocks drinking from me so I hardly notice the little black bat that flits past the dairy, does one lap around Ezra and heads back the way it came.

  “Rocks is ready for you,” he says in a solemn tone. I’m thankful that I didn’t eat earlier.

  Jeremiah, Harland, and a middle-aged woman are talking to Rocks on his shop porch. The boys escort me past a group of not so friendly looking youths, but their stares aren’t in the ‘if looks could kill’ category. They’re closer to the ‘if looks could maim’ kind. None of the Camazotz girls are in sight and that calms me a little.

  Rocks gives me my favorite smile. I wipe my hands on my dark jeans—at least this time I didn’t try to impersonate a sunflower—and approach the group.

  “Connie, I’d like to introduce you to my mother, Zada. This is my friend” —his eyes flick to mine and what I see wounds me— “Connie.”

  We need to talk—yet again. Now that I’m here, the anger I felt toward him over the dance fiasco has entirely evaporated. He will always be my friend. I honestly don’t think I could live without him, and I need to tell him as much.

  Zada is not what I was expecting, but in truth I don’t know what I thought she would be like. Her hair is dark, dark, brown, messy and waist length. Sections are braided to keep it out of her eyes, but the rest moves with the slight breeze. Even though I haven’t seen a tattoo shop, there must be an artist in residence. Her neck is covered in brightly colored flowers and seems at odds with the rest of her dark attire. She is dressed from head to toe in black, except for a silver ribbon that secures her corset. I imagine introducing her to Kelly and Chad and bite my cheek.

  After one thorough glance, she speaks, “Well, now I understand.” She leans over and gives me a soft hug, barely touching me. I think of butterfly kisses from my old Gran.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Zada.” She smiles, and flips, flying high up over the shop and out of sight. Rocks takes my hand and leads me inside. He lets go once we’re through the door and walks over to his workbench.

  “Doesn’t she like me?”

  “It’s not you; it’s just her. She flits here and there the second the impulse strikes her. That’s just her way.”

  My heart is beating in the back of my throat. My mind races with dozens of questions. Will he feel the pace of my pulse? Will he know I’m scared and excited at the same time? What will I taste like? Before I pass out, I walk up to him.

  After the deepest breath, I unwind my grey scarf. My black jacket covers my throat so I remove it as well and toss them both on the seat inside the door.

  “I’m ready,” I announce. Rocks turns and studies me.

  I pull my black sweater away from the left side of my neck and step closer to him. I bare my neck in offering and close my eyes. “The boys told me how you’ll do it. I’m ready.”

  A small chuckle fills the room. “Did they now?” he says ever so softly. His tone makes me think he’s smiling. I can feel his body so close to mine. He moves in until we’re touching. His hand runs up one arm as his long fingers slide over the exposed skin of my neck. I shiver. I want to open my eyes but can’t find the courage.

  His chest rubs against mine as he leans over me. I hold my breath. I feel a hand splay across my back and pull me even closer. Rocks is everywhere. My senses are on overload. The scent of the forest surrounds me, and I shiver once more in his arms. His lips briefly make contact with my flesh. I gasp because I was expecting a bite not a gentle caress. He kisses my skin once, twice, three times, and then opens his mouth and devours my neck. Still kissing me but more forcefully. His tongue swirls across my exposed skin. I moan and grab his waist with both fists—he’s my anchor as I float adri
ft on a sea of sensations and emotions electrifying my body.

  My brain is trying to focus. Is he relaxing me before the bite? His lips leave my neck for a moment and I’m shattered. I want to scream for him not to stop.

  “Oh, Connie,” he says, before he kisses my neck again with an intensity that curls my toes. Kissing has never felt like this ever. I feel his teeth graze the skin, and he bites me softly once before sucking the skin below my ear. I quiver. This is it.

  But he pulls away. Rocks’ lips have set fire to my entire system. I slowly open my eyes. “When are you going to do it?” I ask, confused. I sound breathless, but I don’t care.

  The backs of his fingers slide down my cheek and ghost across my lips. He frowns. “Later. At the gathering.”

  “Oh, no, please not there. I just wanted it to be us.” I bend my head back again, exposing more flesh to him.

  Rocks takes a step away from me, and I miss his touch. He looks at the floor and then out the window. When he meets my gaze again, his cheeks are flushed pink, but he looks away quickly.

  His body language causes the tingles to fade as my suspicion grows. “What?”

  “Um.” He shuffles his feet. “You know I don’t drink blood in human form. I told you that.”

  I blink. My brain skims over all the Camazotz information crammed up there.

  Fudge me! I’m an idiot.

  He’s right. Bats drink. Humans eat.

  “But … What? The boys said … Aaagh!” I step away and pull my sweater into place. I’ve been played—and thoroughly kissed. The pit inside me erupts, and I barely manage to stay standing.

  “How could you?” I hiss at him. “Those little creeps!” Stupid should be my middle name. My hands are shaking so much that I half strangle myself trying to get my scarf back on. I need to cover myself. I want to crawl under the shop in the dark and stay there.

  Rocks looks at me, and I notice his eyes are darker than normal. He shrugs. “How could I resist you?” he says in way of explanation. “That neck was too tempting.”

  I want to be mad, but his words make my heart skip a beat. Tempting. The inferno rages for an entirely different reason. I pray for the day when my emotions don’t conflict each other one second after another.

  “You shouldn’t mess with people’s feeling, Rocks.” I turn away. Tears are filling my eyes, and I blink furiously. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. “That’s not funny.”

  He steps up behind me. I can’t have him touch me. Not now. I’m so confused. I want him so much, but I don’t know what to do about it. Did he set the boys up to this stunt? Am I just a game?

  “I’m sorry. I really am. Please don’t be mad.”

  I grab my coat. “I’ll be in my car,” I say, leaving the shop. His kiss has awakened a deep longing, but does he feel the same way, or is this him being a jerk like Parker?

  The doors click locked and the tears erupt. I don’t know why I’m crying. I feel so much, and I can’t explain any of it. I was so nervous and tried to be brave, and now I just feel like an idiot. A stupid, hormonal teenage girl surrounded by boys that play games. So often Rocks makes me feel like a little kid. He’s so levelheaded and mature. I watch him with Mini and think he’d be the perfect dad even though he’s just as young as I am, but he’s older somehow. I didn’t know just how much I wanted him to kiss me until I felt his lips caress my throat. I don’t know why he did that. I need Tiff to translate.

  The last rays of sunlight have vanished. The sky turns from orange to pink and darker blue. It’s time.

  I wipe my face and apply more foundation. That red nose has to go. Just as I complete Operation Girl Wasn’t Crying, Rocks walks down the path. A little girl with a pink seahorse tucked under her arm is holding his hand. Her outfit is in colors of grays and reds and makes me think of a miniature emo fairy.

  I grit my teeth and get out of the car. It’s now or never. Rocks’ brows are furrowed, but I focus on his little friend.

  “I love my Bean’s babies,” she says in a loud voice. No shy little girl here. “Thank you, Miss Connie.” Her smile chases away the lingering feelings of ridiculousness that were spilling out of the pit.

  I kneel. “Hello, Bailey.” I try not to focus on the white gauze covering her eye and half of her tiny head. I want to hug and protect her from any creature that would dare lay a scratch on her.

  She lets go of his hand and throws the arm that isn’t hugging her seahorse around my neck. “Do you have any more little babies with you?”

  “Bailey,” Rocks admonishes. “I told you not to ask that.”

  I laugh. “I’m sorry, but I don’t today. I promise to bring you one next time though. What kind of animal would you like?” I take her hand and describe the dozens of new babies she could adopt. Rocks leads us off the path and into the forest.

  He offers me his arm, but I shake my head. I can’t be that close to him yet. He’ll know how I feel, and I’m still too embarrassed. I can’t believe I moaned when he kissed me.

  His shoulders slump, and he leans in and whispers, “I know I said I was sorry, but I’m not. Now, I will always know what it feels like to kiss you, and I’ll never be sorry for that.” He walks ahead, clearing a safe path for Bailey and me through the underbrush. My eyes swim with tears and goose bumps cover my arms, but I’m distracted by a tug on my hand.

  “Do they have butterflies? I love things that can fly like me. Tell me about flying babies.”

  We walk until the light fades. I trip and stumble repeatedly, making Bailey giggle. “Even I can see better than you,” she says, smiling up at me.

  Two little figures appear, and I hear muffled voices through the trees. The boys smile and whisper to each other pointing, unashamed to be staring at my hair.

  Rocks grabs the smaller one, throwing him over his shoulder, tickling his ribs. “I told you not to stare. Don’t be rude, boys.”

  “That’s our brother, Moonshiner,” Bailey informs me. “He’s nine and a half, and the only member of the Moon wing.” I nod at her. Rocks had told me Zada had a child with a male from another colony. The boy has no paternal relatives here. It’s the only way to strengthen bloodlines, but very lonely for the first member of the wing.

  Baxter is introduced next and waves hello. He takes Rocks’ hand but walks staring at me over his shoulder. Each time I wink at him, he blushes and looks away for a few seconds.

  The clearing is different from the one used for the carnival. It’s a strange shape. A long rough oval that’s sort of pointy at one end, and there are seven raised wooden platforms filling the space—three on one side and four along the other. One long thin platform, similar to a boardwalk runs up the middle. I recognize the Sire standing on the boardwalk. Hundreds of people mill around, appearing and disappearing from the surrounding forest. Screeches from above tell me the low branches are full of roosting bats. Rocks walks us to the middle platform on the far side and the hum of conversation ceases when I walk through, stepping over the boardwalk.

  “Don’t worry,” says Bailey. “They just want to look at your pretty hair.” I would kiss her if all eyes weren’t currently on me.

  I try not to stare back, but it’s hard when you’re at a Goth’s Anonymous meeting. I wouldn’t even know where to begin if I wanted to find clothing that would blend in. I catch flashes of tattooed flesh as people walk past. I shiver at the sight of so much exposed skin on a December night. Rocks helps me up onto the platform. Harland is on the other side and nods at me. The girl he’s talking to turns around and glares. She’s pretty and reminds me of Rocks.

  “That’s my sister, Graceland,” he says close to my ear. I jump slightly. The darkness and creeping movements in the shadows is putting me on edge. His hand rests on my lower back, and he guides me to the long wooden bench lining the back of the platform.

  “I’ll only be a minute,” he says and before I can protest, he picks up Bailey, throws Moonshiner back over his other shoulder and pulls Baxter with him.

 
The crowd seems to thin wherever he heads. People take a step or two out of his way. I get the sense that the colony is serious about him becoming a leader one day if his aeronaught love doesn’t get in the way. Bailey and Baxter get ushered up onto the platform to the left. Moonshiner gets left by a tree in between the two stages. Rocks kneels down and speaks with him for a few minutes. The boy nods, looking more serious than any nine-year-old I’ve ever met. If the McNamara twins were that controlled, I’d happily attend my parent’s reunion.

  My eyes scan the other platforms. Scarface is standing on the platform to my right and waves with a sneer. I look away pretending not to see her and hope that her vision isn’t good enough to see how much my chest is heaving up and down. Rocks returns to me, sitting down. His whole body is touching my side. I resist the urge to pull away because he’s my anchor once more. Part of me wants to look back at Zabreena and see her face now. Rocks is with me, not her. I resist and instead watch a tall boy jump up on our platform near the trees.

  “Oh my God, it’s him.”

  “Who? Malachite?”

  “That's the guy that threatened Mini.” I sit ramrod straight, and my hands clutch the scarf protecting my throat.

  Rocks looks over in time to see the boy lick his lips salaciously in my direction. I sink back out of his sight, using his body for cover.

  “Oh, fuck no.” He covers his eyes with one hand, and after a moment regains his composure. “I'm sorry. I apologize for my language, but are you sure?” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees to block the stares from the far side of the platform. Harland wasn’t exactly friendly the other night, and now I know Graceland definitely isn’t a fan either.

  “Positive. Why?” I think I’m going to be sick.

  “Damn it. He and Graceland will be together once they come of age.” Rocks sighs and gets up.

  He dodges around two little girls that have stepped up for a closer look at the blonde circus freak and stops in front of Malachite. They exchange words before Rocks grabs him by the neck and pushes him backward off the dais into the trees. The night swallows them and only Graceland and Harland seemed to have noticed. They both slink after him.