Vampire Magic 1: TASTE - Kingdom of Blood and Ash

by D. S. Murphy

  Dr. Hartmann has developed a magnificent piece of biotechnology: microscopic, biological robots tasked with cell repair, that feed on aged blood cells and produce Telomerase—an enzyme that adds DNA sequence repeats.

  The article ended with a question, and a warning.

  Are we about to enter a post-mortal age? If humans are defined by their proximity to death, and we stop dying, will we still be human at all? Maybe William Blake was right when he wrote, Art is the tree of life. Science is the tree of death.

  I didn’t notice Damien enter the room until he coughed to get my attention. I put the magazine down quickly and shuffled it under a few others.

  “How’s training?” he asked.

  “I’ll be ready,” I said. Did he actually care, or was he just worried that I’d embarrass him if I couldn’t keep up with the other chosen?

  “I know you’re upset about what happened,” he said. “I am too.”

  “I’m fine,” I lied.

  “You’ve barely spoken to me in days.”

  “I’m surprised you noticed,” I said. “We weren’t speaking much before that either.”

  Damien frowned and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “I understand you’re mad at me. But what else could I have done?”

  “Stop him! There has to be a way. What about the—” I cut off quickly and turned my face, my heart pounding. I’d almost asked him about the antidote, which would prove I’d met with the rebels. I needed to get him to play his hand, and tell me where it was, without giving myself away.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know it’s not your fault. I just need time to process all this.”

  “What can I do to help?” Damien asked, rubbing my shoulders.

  There was only one thing I wanted.

  “I need to go home, just for a few days. I want to see my mother.” And give her the vial.

  “It’s not safe in the compounds right now,” Damien said.

  “Haven’t you noticed? It’s not exactly safe in the citadel either. Besides, I thought you caught all the rebels?

  “After the wedding, I promise we’ll go back to visit. Things are too hot right now, politically. My father needs me by his side, and I want you by mine. But if you’d like to get out of the citadel for a few hours,” he said, “there is something else I’d like to show you.”

  “You’re kidding,” I said as Damien handed me a black helmet with a transparent face guard. We descended a spiral staircase through the bed rock, then took an elevator to an underground cavern full of vehicles. Tractors, vans, jeeps—and something with two wheels Damien looked a little too comfortable with.

  “You’ll be fine,” he said. “Just hold on to me.”

  I climbed on the bike after him, pinching my thighs together to hold on, then reached around his flat stomach. He was wearing a black T-shirt, a jean jacket and leather pants, and a pair of dark sunglasses with gold rims.

  I was in jeans and a long sleeve navy top that covered me up to wrists, and some fingerless leather gloves I found in the garage. Damien opened up a wide door to the hangar, and cold air blew in from outside. The ash seemed darker and heavier than usual.

  “It’s raining?” I asked.

  “Just a bit,” Damien said. “Would you prefer the car?”

  “No, it’s fine,” I said, putting on the helmet.

  The air was damp as we zoomed past the tall pine trees. Bits of ash got caught in my tangled curls on my shoulders, but they were damp so they didn’t burn. The rain carried toxins as well, but it was mostly harmless unless I soaked in it. It actually felt refreshing, until twenty minutes later, when my teeth were chattering from the cold. Damien parked and got off first, then lifted me off the bike.

  I took off the helmet and shook out my hair, while Damien opened an umbrella for me.

  “What is this place?” I asked, as I saw the shapes of buildings and houses.

  “The first compound,” he said. “Quondam.”

  A chill ran down my spine. The buildings were abandoned, and half buried in ash. Some had caught fire and burned down, leaving only the blackened remains of their original structures. It was strange to see the ash falling inside a compound. Is this what Algrave would become if they turned off the purification engines?

  Ours were the only footprints in nearly an inch of gray ash and soot. A flash of red caught my eye, and I could just make out a playground on the side of what must have been a park. The seats of the swings were dirty, but I could still see the peeling red paint of the poles. The rusty chains creaked in the breeze. Closer up, I saw something on the ground and pulled it out of the mud and ash. A doll made of fabric and yarn. It smiled at me with one eye missing.

  “Where is everybody?” I asked. “What happened here?”

  “It was one of the earliest compounds,” Damien said. “I was a sullen teenager, even decades after the race wars. I’d learned to be hard, to kill—but only to defend myself. At first I was my father’s champion. But over the decades, I began to regret my father’s new kingdom, even hate it. Finally I refused to have any part in his new system, especially the choosing. But I sometimes visited the compounds. It made me feel normal, to be with humans. I mostly watched from afar, and was careful not to lose control. I was still haunted from what happened at my high school. But I was lonely.”

  “One day I made a friend. He was young, handsome and idealistic. We were cautious of each other at first, but I kept visiting, and over several months we found we had a lot in common. Sometimes, emboldened by our friendship, we’d talk openly about politics, the compounds, the city of lights. I told him things I shouldn’t have. He asked to visit me in citadel, and I obliged. He was the first true friend I had in decades. Until he betrayed me.”

  I held my breath. Was he talking about John Patten? Would he reveal the location of the antidote?

  “He was always asking questions, interested in the science behind the elixir, and the elite. He became obsessed with a way to reverse it, to create social equality. His passion was infectious. I played along, though I never really believed such a thing was possible. But then one day he stole something from my father’s lab and brought it back here. My father was furious when he found out.”

  “I told him I’d get it back, to trust me, but my father said the commons had to be punished. The knowledge was too dangerous, too valuable in the wrong hands. I refused, but then he compulsed me, and I couldn’t resist. I killed him, I killed my friend.”

  “Just like Tobias and Penelope,” I said.

  “I thought it was over,” Damien said, “but my father wasn’t done. First he turned off the purification engines. As the ash fell into the compound, people were screaming, running—he froze them all, grabbing their wills, binding them like puppets. He was showing me how powerful he’d become. He held them like that for three days, with me at his side. They died slow, painful deaths. The embers melted their skin. Their screams were muffled as they choked on ash.”

  “They’re still here?” I asked, goosebumps rising on my skin.

  Damien nodded, and led me forward until I could see them. Arms spread out, fingers wide, eyes turned to the sky. The ash had hardened into a hard surface, almost like marble, but not before recording the horror of their punishment. Flesh sagging from the bones, holes as the ash burned through their cheeks… and they felt every second of it. Then left here, forgotten, abandoned. A cemetary of grotesque statues. A reminder and a warning, for anyone else who doubted King Richard’s power.

  The rain was heavier now, pattering against the umbrella like a drum, but Damien wasn’t finished.

  “After this,” Damien said, “I swore if he ever took control of me like that again, I’d kill myself. I didn’t speak to him for a year after that. Since then, I’ve been quietly resisting. So I didn’t choose. I didn’t get involved. I avoided politics completely. Until you.”

  A crack of lightning split the air nearby and the rain started pouring down in torrents. Rain and ash was dr
ipped from Damien’s forehead onto his jacket.

  “Here,” I said, lifting the umbrella up for him.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “You’ll get your jacket dirty, and the maids are going to spend all day washing it for you.”

  Damien held his palm up to his eyes, then pointed to a nearby cabin. He struggled with the door handle for a second, then kicked it open and pulled me inside. The house was dusty, but dry. It smelled like books and old leather, and had a big fireplace on one side of the living room.

  Damien split some firewood and I found a box of matches in one of the drawers. Soon we had a roaring fire. The warm yellow glow brought life to the abandoned house, and I could see signs of its previous owners. A half-finished knitting project by a stool near the fire. A basket of sliced bread—now so stale and brittle it crumbled between my fingertips. It reminded me of my home in Algrave.

  I moved closer to the fire, shivering. Damien took off his jacket and pulled it snugly around my shoulders. Steam rose up from my sneakers as I held them closer to the flames.

  “I didn’t get it before,” Damien said, holding onto the jacket, and pulling me towards him.

  “Not really. But after the attack on the capital… you could have been hurt. I wouldn’t know how to handle that. It made me realize how much I’ve come to care about you. I was against my father’s whole system before, but maybe it is the only way to prevent war. You don’t know what it was like before, when we were fighting for survival. I’ve been shot hundreds of times, attacked for my blood. I got away from the worst of it. My father always protected me. Everything about his new system disgusted me, especially the chosen. A blood slave for the elite to feed on.” He wrinkled his nose, and I lowered my chin, unable to look him in the eyes. Is that what he thought of me? Was I so disgusting?

  But then he reached down and lifted my chin gently. His eyes were soft and warm, like his lips. My mouth parted involuntarily, opening to him. His eyes caught the movement and he sucked in a sharp breath.

  “It’s not you,” he said quickly. “You are beautiful, and fascinating, and kind.” He reached down and pulled a strand of hair behind my ear. As he did, his fingertips lingered on the back of my neck.

  “Isn’t there something else you could do?” I asked softly. “You said, your friend was working on a way to reverse the elixir?”

  “Don’t” he said, his voice suddenly like gravel. “You saw what he did to Tobias. I haven’t tried to resist him, not really, for decades. Not since what happened here. But he could have me kill you. Snap your neck. It would only take a second, and I’d have to live with that guilt forever. Don’t you see, I have something to lose now, and he knows it. I always thought the chosen were meant to keep the humans in line, to give them something to hope for, and the illusion of equality. But I realize, it’s more than that. It’s also a way to control the elite, and humanize our monstrous tendencies. The chosen make us vulnerable.”

  “It’s not all that bad, is it?” I asked. “I mean, he did build the compounds, the purification engines. You keep us safe. It could be worse.” I wasn’t sure I believed it, after what I’d seen King Richard do, but seeing Damien in pain made my heart clench uncomfortably. Plus I wanted to keep him talking.

  His eyes lit up with hope. “And it could be better. With you at my side, working together, we could make it better. There’s a future for us,” he said. “I promise.”

  He reached for my fingers and held them up to his lips, then kissed my wrists gently, ignoring the red patches of my birthmark. His touch sent shivers running through my body.

  “You’ve changed me,” he said. “Given me something to live for.”

  I leaned forward, pressing my weight into his. He looked off guard for a second, but then closed the gap between us. He hesitated, our lips inches apart, waiting for permission. I gave it by grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him to me. He lifted my shirt, and his fingers scorched a path of fire across my abdomen. I gasped as he kissed my cheek, then my neck. My whole body felt alive, and I was tingling everywhere. I’d never felt this way before. He sniffed, then suddenly pulled back, his body rigid.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I can’t tell separate my desire for you from the blood lust,” he said, looking ashamed. “I can’t tell where one starts and the other ends. I haven’t been this close to a human, a girl, not since—”

  “It’s okay,” I said. Damien basically just confirmed everything I’d heard from the rebels about John Patten. That meant the antidote might be real. He might not be ready to stand up to his father, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know where it was. Maybe Marcus was right. I just had to get him to open up.

  “Is this what you want?” I whispered, placing my hand against his chest. I shrugged my shirt to the side, revealing my bare neck and shoulders, then started unbuttoning my shirt. He gasped, hunger and need raging in his eyes.

  “You don’t know how hard it is to be near you,” he said. “To want you so badly, and resist.”

  I had some idea. Being this close to Damien, I wanted him, too. And it was more than just the elixir in his veins, or his elite physique. It was him. It was the kindness in his eyes. It was the way he looked at me, and really saw me. I leaned up on my toes and kissed him, long and slow, then I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

  “Go ahead,” I murmured in his ear. “Please, I want you to.”

  Damien hesitated a moment longer, then pushed me against the wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist, crushing him against me. He kissed my ear, and my jaw, before lunging at my neck. I cried out as his teeth pierced my skin. The bite was sweet like a toothache; pain and pleasure mixed together. I curled my hands into fists, clenching the sides of Damien’s pants and pulling them lower. I moaned as he ground his hips into mine. His saliva mixed with my blood and sparkled like magic. It felt like sunshine and roses, injected straight into my veins. I looked up at Damien, my pupils as wide as my smile. But I froze in confusion when I saw his face.

  He’d pulled away, and he was looking at me with shock and anger.

  His pupils were larger and dark, like he was seeing me for the first time, or seeing all of me.

  “No,” he said. “It’s impossible.”

  He looked sick, and his face was whiter than usual—which made the blood on his chin stand out like a stain. My blood. He looked like he’d been poisoned.

  Poisoned by me.

  21

  We left when the rain stopped. I had the feeling Damien wanted to leave me there, in the open-aired mausoleum of his father’s victims, instead of bringing me back with him to the citadel. After biting me, he’d sat sullenly on the other side of the cabin, his gaze sharp but hooded like an eagle’s.

  One second he’d been kissing me, the next he couldn’t stand to be near me. We were both silent on the ride home. I felt rebuked—like I’d let him down somehow. I wasn’t what he expected. I didn’t taste good enough. Was it my dark markings? Maybe I was spoiled, like a fruit gone bad. Or because I was renitent, whatever that meant.

  Damien parked in the garage and climbed the stairs so briskly I was practically sprinting to keep up with him. When we reached the house, he held the door open for me without coming in.

  “I need to check on Tobias,” he said. It sounded like an excuse, but I didn’t challenge it. Of course he should do that. He was just being a good friend.

  “But I’ll see you later?” I asked.

  His eyes softened, and he looked at me for the first time since the bite.

  “Just stay inside, okay? We’ll talk more tonight.”

  I reached for his hand, trying to rekindle the emotions we shared at the cabin, but he pulled away. Something had definitely changed. I was making myself a cup of tea in the kitchen when it hit me. Master Svboda said elite could share memories in elixir, memories they’d taken from human blood. Could Damien have read my mind when he bit me? Did he know about the rebels, about Trev? Maybe tha
t’s why he left is such a hurry. But I didn’t know where Trev was, he must have left the citadel already. He could even be back in Algrave.

  My blood chilled, thinking about frozen statues we saw in Quondam, their screams immortalized forever. If Damien tracked Trevor home and the king found out about it, that could be Algrave tomorrow. My family—Jamie, Loralie, Mom—they’d all be tortured. Because of me. I knew Damien was fundamentally a good person, but he’d never disobey his father. Especially now, according to what he’d told me earlier, though I wondered if his feelings had changed now that he’d tasted me.

  I used my husband’s absence to search the library again. I looked through the nonfiction and research papers, but the only thing of value I’d discovered was the magazine I found last time. Would that be enough to help the rebels? My eyes scanned the bookshelves again. I’d practically memorized the arrangement of volumes, but this time I took in the whole wall. And that’s when I noticed the panel. Flat wooden columns ran between the shelves, but today, one of them was tilted at a slightly different angle. I tucked my nails beneath the wood and pried it open, revealing a hidden shelf with only two items: a leather-bound journal and a book. My fingers trembled as I pulled it open the journal.