by D. S. Murphy
“Get down!” He shouted.
There was a moment of pause, like time stood still. A few drawn out notes of music from ice scream truck. A scoop off ice cream falling off a young girl’s cone. Then the screams, as the black van exploded into a ball of flames.
The force of the explosion knocked me off my feet. Damien checked me for wounds, then shouted ‘stay here’ and vanished into the smoke. Figures were running towards and away from the truck, and I heard the sound of screeching metal. A young boy stumbled past us, his arm dripping with blood.
I gazed through the thick smoke, my head throbbing. The black van was on its side; it had slid off the street and smashed through a park bench. I recognized it from Algrave—it was one of the vehicles that came by every month to collect the compound’s tribute. A pint of blood from every healthy adult. The vans also delivered the elite blood the compounds needed for the weekly renewal services.
The windshield was cracked, and it looked like the tires had blown out. It was still smoking, surrounded in shattered glass and broken vials of blood and elixir. Men dressed in dark clothes appeared out of nowhere, their faces hidden behind black masks. They moved quickly, snapping open the back door of the van and lifting out boxes of elixir.
As people realized what was happening, they got down on their knees, trying to soak up the fallen elixir with scraps of fabric. Some even put their lips to the ground and tried to drink it off the concrete, despite the broken glass.
Moments later, the royal guard arrived. They hauled people off the streets, grabbing them and dragging them away from the wreckage. They tied their hands behind their backs with bits of plastic strap and left them face down in the grass. Some resisted: normally the guard would easily be twice as strong as any normal citizen, thanks to extra rations of elixir, but the men who’d drunk the elixir could now hold their own. As soon as the guards realized this, they pulled out their swords.
I saw one soldier hack a man’s arm off. A woman jumped on his back, clawing at his eyes. I couldn’t understand what was happening. This was chaos, anarchy. How could everything have been so peaceful only minutes before? I looked for Damien and Tobias, but couldn’t see them. They must have gone after the men in masks. Another elite I didn’t recognize appeared on the scene, cutting through the crowd like butter. I could barely see the flash of his sword, he moved so quickly, but I knew it was there from the way bodies were dropping around him.
I gasped as one of the men in masks pointed a pistol at him. Guns were illegal in the compounds, not even the guards had them. The man pulled the trigger and the elite looked surprised, clutching at his chest with a pained expression. He stood still long enough for several other men to stab into him with knives, pinning him to the ground and tearing at him ruthlessly.
“No!” I shouted. One of the men looked up at me and our eyes connected. The blood drained from my face. Even from this distance, even though a mask covered half his face, I still recognized him. I’d recognize Trevor anywhere. He was at my side in a moment. He grabbed my hand and dragged me around the corner, into a dark alley away from the conflict.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he growled. “It’s not safe.”
I was too stunned to speak, so instead I punched him in the jaw.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked. “People are getting hurt! You could’ve hurt me.”
He pulled off the mask, his face full of guilt.
“I had no idea you’d be here. And nobody was supposed to get hurt. We meant to get the elixir and get out before the guards showed up.”
“You’re an idiot,” I hissed. “They’ll kill you for this.”
“We’re doing this for you,” he snapped back, frowning. “And all the chosen, and all the people in the compounds. The elite, they aren’t what you think. They’ve been lying to us. But don’t worry, I’ll stop this. You won’t have to marry him.”
“What do you mean?” My breath caught in my throat, and my chest felt painfully tight.
“Someone will contact you soon, we’ll take care of everything. One more thing, your mom gave me this. I told her I wouldn’t get a chance to deliver it, but she made me take it. Things have been bad in the compound, since you left, and she’s getting worse. I don’t think she has much time left.”
He squeezed a note into my hands, and then he kissed me. I was so surprised, I didn’t pull away. His lips were hungry, rough, and his stubble scraped my skin.
Then he ran. Faster than I’d ever seen him move before. Faster than humanly possible.
16
By the time I made it back to the park, the smoke was clearing and the fight was over. The stabbed elite leaned against the truck, being cared for by a medic in a white uniform and sipping from a blood pack he must have gotten from the transport. Guards had restrained all of the people who’d been trying to scoop up or save the splattered elixir.
But my eye was drawn to Damien. He was cradling a small girl in his arms, and his wrists were bleeding. I ran to him. Relief washed over his face when he saw me.
“Thank the stars,” he said. “I couldn’t find you, I thought maybe…”
“You’re hurt!” I said when I was close enough. “Let me take her.”
“It’s alright,” he said. “She was injured, trampled in the chaos, I think.” He nodded to her leg, which had a deep cut. As I watched, the bleeding stopped, and the skin started healing itself. She gasped and her pupils dilated. She reached for Damien’s arm again, wanting more.
“You fed her?” I asked.
“She’s not the only one,” Tobias said, coming up behind us. “He must have fed a dozen of the injured. We have medics for that, you know.”
“They were in pain,” Damien said, putting the girl down. “I just, I didn’t want them to suffer.”
Tobias gave him a strange look and rolled his eyes.
“Okay Mother Teresa,” Tobias said. “But you’re the crown prince, and we need to get you inside and safe. Can you please escort your bride home so we can take care of this? Let the royal guard do their job.”
“Are all these people getting arrested?” I asked, looking over the group on the lawn. There were nearly fifty people, including dozens of kids and elderly. Their hands were tied behind them with plastic bands.
“They’re traitors,” one the royal guard answered. “Insurgents.” Unlike the round helmets and face masks most of the guards wore, this man’s hat had a leather brim and displayed a red star symbol on the front.
“They’re citizens, Captain Smith,” Damien said. “They still deserve our protection, until they’ve been tried and found guilty.” The man bowed low under Damien’s gaze.
“Of course, your highness.” He took off his hat and backed away slowly.
“Most of them didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. “It was the men in masks, not the citizens. You should be going after them.”
“Extra rations of elixir are forbidden for a reason,” Tobias said. “It can make humans unstable, hostile even. We’ll keep an eye on them until they’ve sobered up, and they’ll be questioned. They are witnesses after all.”
“But then you’ll let them go?” I asked.
“That’s up to the king,” Tobias said. “But yes, most of them will go free, probably in the next twenty-four hours. Now take Damien home, please. He needs to feed.”
Damien was leaning against a bench, looking ill. He looked paler than usual, almost sickly. How much of his blood had he given away? I put an arm around his waist and led him away from the site of the accident. Every few corners I’d ask for directions and he’d grunt and nod his head.
By the time we made it back to his apartment, he was dragging his feet and slurring his words, and he was leaning heavily against me. I brought him to his room and shut the door, my heart pounding. Tobias told me to bring him home and feed him. Did that mean from me? I leaned him against the bed and stood there awkwardly, unsure what I was supposed to do next. Damien’s eyelids fluttered, then he pointed t
o a tall white cupboard in the corner. I opened it up and found rows of bottles, made of dark brown glass and rimmed with silver ornamentation. In the center was the king’s seal—a snake wearing a crown, winding around a chalice. It was the same symbol on the black van.
I grabbed two bottles and returned to Damien’s bedside. He popped one open and drank it greedily. A drop of crimson blood rolled down his chin and I turned away, both relieved and disappointed he wasn’t feeding on me instead. By the time he finished the second bottle, his cheeks had regained a bit of color and his eyes were sharp and clear again
I looked out the window at the fading light, thinking about Trevor. How was he involved with the rebels? The king warned me about them, but I hadn’t wanted to believe it was possible. Who would be stupid enough to rebel against the elite, and why?
“Do I disgust you?” Damien asked quietly. I turned back towards him. His expression was pained, haunted. I took a cloth and wiped the blood off his chin. How could he disgust me? His proud jawline, his kind eyes. He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Why would you ask that?” I asked.
“It’s unnatural, what we are. You’ve never seen us, what we’re capable of. You just see us as strong, fast, powerful. But we’re dangerous. You should be scared of us, all humans should be. Instead they’re attracted to us. It’s a curse.”
“Is that why you’ve never chosen?” I asked.
“I never believed in my father’s system. All these laws and rituals. Turning obedience into a religion. No one should have that much control, especially if it’s all based on a lie. I didn’t want to support that, to be a part of it. Not choosing was my silent rebellion. But then, when I saw Nigel choose you, knowing what he’d do to you… I couldn’t let that happen.”
“So you chose to save me,” I said slowly. “But not because you wanted me.”
He nodded, and the breath went out of my lungs.
“I don’t want you to be here because I chose you. I want you to choose me, not because of who my father is, or to save your species, or because you believe in the covenant or you feel it’s your duty to be a good citizen. I want you to want me for who I am. Maybe I’m the naive one. You wouldn’t want me if you knew the truth, what I was really capable of. What I’ve done.”
“So show me,” I said. Damien looked like he was about to argue, and his dark brows furled. But then he brought his wrist up to his lips and tore a jagged hole, releasing a few drops of blood. The wound healed in seconds. He raised his wrist up with a bitter grin. The scent of blood, rather than grossing me out, attracted me to him. I could smell the elixir, but stronger, muskier. Alive. I hesitated for a moment, wondering what memory Damien was about to share, and whether I’d be strong enough to witness it. Then I took his arm and licked the blood off his wrist with my tongue, feeling the warmth in my mouth. The vision hit me immediately. I could hear Damien’s voice, describing the scene.
“My father turned me in high school. He said something was coming, and I had to be prepared. He told me to stay home, but I was too excited. I was so strong, so fast. I wanted to show off in front of a girl I liked, so I went to school to show her what I could do. I thought I could get her to like me. I’d always liked her, but with my veins full of elixir, my desire for her was uncontrollable. She was afraid of me. I couldn’t separate the desire from the Thirst. I bit her before I knew what I was doing. When others tried to stop me, I killed them too.”
In my head, I could see the blond girl with a purple background, a sweet face, in a hallway full of lockers. Damien looked younger, smaller, but still handsome. I felt the blood lust rushing through him, and then the crushing guilt and loss. I felt him crumple into a ball in the hallway, the floor slick with blood, with fallen teachers and classmates around him.
I pulled out of the vision with a shudder.
“You see? And that was just the beginning. My father’s peace is a lie, it covers up what we really are. That’s why I’ve never wanted it, this system. But it’s the only one I know. And at least it keeps me from killing people I love, hurting innocents. I hate my father, but I hate myself more.”
My heart was pounding, and my desire for him, the guilt he’d been carrying, his vulnerability, it just made me want him more. Or maybe it was the lure of more elixir. It was hard to separate the two.
“It’s not your fault,” I said, leaning forward and cupping my palm around his face. His eyes widened and he grabbed my wrist painfully, but he didn’t pull away. His eyes searched my face with a question. I leaned forward until his red lips were just inches from mine. But then there was a pounding on the door. He shook his head, and pushed me away roughly.
“Enter,” he said. One of the royal guard stepped into the doorway.
“We caught the rebels,” he said. Damien’s eyes hardened.
“Tomorrow is renewal. You’ll be expected to attend. All the chosen will. I’ll take care of the rebels. Don’t worry, they’ll pay for what they did today.”
The renewal ceremony was in the largest chapel I’d ever seen. It was directly behind the main palace, on top of the hill at the center of the city. Claire helped me pick out a dress—it had to be appropriately regal, given my station, but also modest, so it didn’t look like I was trying too hard. Tobias had given her pretty clear instructions. I would have worn a burlap sack, for all I cared. I couldn’t stop thinking about the rebels. Damien hadn’t returned since the night before. Did they catch Trevor? If so, what would they do to him? The thought made my lungs burn painfully. Claire pulled the laces on the back of the dress firmly, tugging them tighter until they squeezed my ribs. When she was done, she let me look in the mirror. My skin was practically glowing. It must be from the extra elixir I’d consumed last night, when I’d fed on Damien. My cheeks blushed at the intimacy of the moment, but then ice coursed through my veins at the memory he’d shared. He was only been a kid, when he accidentally slaughtered his crush and classmates. No wonder he didn’t want to feed. No wonder he thought he was a monster. I don’t know how I’d live with that much guilt.
The dress was a classic one-piece, navy blue, with a lightweight skirt and black sequins and beads ornamenting the embroidered top and shoulder straps. Claire tossed my hair a bit, and let it fall to one side in heavy curls. It looked healthy and cleaner than I’d ever seen it.
It looked like the whole city was on its way to renewal. The chapel in Algrave could only fit a hundred people at a time. I couldn’t imagine how all these people were going to fit until we were close enough to the monumental building to see its full scale. Even though it was dwarfed by the palace next door, it had an imposing dignity on its own. The dark stone walls were decorated with motifs and engravings. Gargoyles and horned animal heads jutted from the facade, quietly inspecting the crowds as they passed through the moon-shaped doors. I noticed a few of the flashing red lights I’d come to recognize as surveillance cameras, which made me think again of the two girls I’d seen. If humans were being killed inside the citadel, surely someone would have noticed? I wondered where the footage went, or who was watching it. Suddenly I remembered Zane. If anybody knew, it would be him. I reminded myself to ask, if I ever saw him again.
The inside of the cathedral took my breath away. Towering walls of stone arched impossibly high above. Massive hanging chandeliers with hundreds of tiny light bulbs hung solemnly from the ceiling. The large hall had four columns of polished wood pews that stretched all the way forward to the altar. There must have been room for a thousand people. I made my way to the front and saw Mary with her elite, then Jazmine. I nodded, and they gave me tense smiles as I passed. Apparently this was for couples, or at least a chance for the chosen to be on their best behavior. In Algrave, renewal was as much about socializing as anything else, at least before and after the service. But today a particularly ominous hush seemed to weigh over the proceedings; despite all the people, I couldn’t hear anything except the shuffle of footsteps and the occasional cough, which echoed t
hrough the nave.
While waiting for Damien, I lost myself in the large oil paintings flanking the hall. They told the story I was familiar with: the trials and tribulations of the Before, the plagues and mutations, the discovery of a cure—the elixir—and then the formation of the colonies. One painting showed King Richard himself leading the pilgrims into the first compounds, safe and protected. This was the history I’d learned. But Damien said his father’s peace was based on a lie. Was there another version of the story?
Movement caught my eye, and King Richard appeared suddenly in front of the altar, dressed in a dark suit. The crowd gasped at his appearance, but I knew he’d just used his speed to move into place undetected. Behind him the king’s symbol was ornamented in gold relief, in front of a painting of him bleeding from his wrists into a golden chalice, with an exquisite look of pain on his face. His sacrifice, suffering for the many. I frowned. I’d never realized it before, but I was starting to understand why Damien resisted the system. It was all pageantry, designed to impress and amaze.
Today the king’s face was tense, with furled eyebrows and hard lines around his eyes. It made him look older. He came to the center of the altar, surrounded by six priests on each side, dressed in purple and black robes with silver embroidery. He was as still as statue until the last of the congregation had entered. Then the king’s guard filed in, lining the walls and closing the heavy doors shut behind them with a bang.
The head curate raised a golden chalice, and repeated the welcoming liturgy. Like in Algrave, the curates had tightly braided patches of hair on the top of their heads, but here they were taller and much more elaborate. The head curate’s hairdo was larger than his whole head and looked like a giant pine cone. Along with the purple robes, he was also wearing long gold eyelashes that flashed as he spoke.