Food balanced in my arms, I nudged my way into the infirmary. Hendry lay on a makeshift cot with his eyes closed. He wore no shirt, and his leg was propped up on several bags of ice. Feist’s silver-and-gold magic penetrated his cuts and bruises with antiseptic-scented sparks. The sight of all that bared skin on Hendry’s chest, shaped exquisitely over stacks of muscle, brought me up short.
Out of the entire congregation at the Church of Hangmen, he was the only one who never followed the bath schedule I’d made. He would just show up and pretend I didn’t exist while he took off his boots and socks. As politely as I was capable, I would try to explain my scheduling process to him, but as soon as he began stripping off his clothes, I was out. Male nudity trumped my organized blocks of time, but now my curiosity buzzed at where exactly the lean strip of reddish-brown hair down his belly button led. Around his neck and below his collar hung a chain with a golden-sun amulet, exactly like Dad’s. Funny that I’d never noticed that before.
He must’ve sensed my stare because he cracked an eye open to peer at me. “I thought I smelled spiced apples.”
Since I didn’t carry any fruit other than kiwi, he was probably referring to my favorite smell, the one I always magicked into my bath water. He knew that was me?
“You smelled me rather than heard me walk like a dinosaur, so I’ll take that as progress.” I plopped down on a stool in front of a large mirror with lights bordering it, set everything on the cabinet below, and dug into the bread like I hadn’t eaten in days.
He sat up, his stomach muscles flexing, and waved his hand for some food.
I ripped the bread in half and tossed him the larger part. “Was that the kind of wave you used to tell me not to jump off a building today, or was it more…casual?”
Holding the bread in both hands like it was a delicate treasure, he dove into it and ate with as much gusto as I did, either not hearing my question or choosing to ignore it. Finally, he said, “I never expected you would even think about following me to that apartment building. I underestimated you, and I’m sorry.”
I stopped, my bread temporarily forgotten, while he sighed into his next bite. Crumbs clung to his lips, and I forced myself to look away as his tongue darted out to collect them.
“I’m sorry, too,” I said, shaking myself out of my stupor. “I almost wish I could reset to last night, but…I was set up to fail.”
He made a sound deep in his throat and swallowed. “The ritual wasn’t supposed to happen that way.”
I quirked my eyebrow. “So I was supposed to hang her?”
He looked at me then, his hazel eyes that often seemed to change color half hidden behind his messy curls. “Of course not. She wasn’t supposed to be the sacrifice. She was an innocent, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those people you met earlier, Ross and Sara, they found Lucy a couple of months ago in the shade of someone’s front porch. All alone. She often sleepwalks, and she must’ve found her way here yesterday. Someone must’ve let her inside.”
I narrowed my eyes. “So why was she chosen to be the sacrifice?”
He took another bite of bread, avoiding my gaze. “My stepmom chose her. I was just as shocked as you.”
“She probably did it so I would fail…or she wanted to see me squirm.” I set my bread on the cabinet and dusted off my fingers. “Why, though? We do the ritual for the good of the church, not to be a vindictive bitch.” I winced, realizing we were still talking about his stepmom. “No offense.”
He frowned at his bread, a crease drawing his eyebrows together.
“She wanted to get rid of me,” I said, answering my own question when he didn’t. “But…you told me this morning not to fuck up.”
“You didn’t.”
“What if I had hanged the girl? What would you have done then?”
He looked up, a hard look on his face. “But you didn’t.”
“What if, though? You told me to play along earlier, so now it’s your turn.”
He sighed, dropping what was left of the bread in his lap. “Janice Daelid, you know her?”
“Of course I do.” Janice was the oldest human woman in the congregation. She often complained of rickety hips and other joints.
“Every Tuesday and Thursday like clockwork, she comes up to me to talk about you. How you sing her favorite songs when she’s in the bath, how you add something to the water to help her feel better.”
I sat back on the stool, not sure where this was headed. Janice was one of the few who didn’t piss me off.
“So?” I said.
The steady way in which he gazed at me squirmed an unidentifiable flutter down to my toes. “So someone who would do that for an old lady wouldn’t hang Lucy. I knew she would be safe with you, and you made the right decision last night.”
I tried to piece his words into the larger picture, but it was still a crumbly mess, like the one in my lap. Last night, I thought I could have hanged anyone for the good of the church, but even if it hadn’t been a little girl, could I have taken a life? For the church’s protection, yes, but now I doubted if even that would have been enough since they’d so quickly voted to banish me.
“Frankincense,” I said, like it mattered. “That’s what I use for Janice.”
He nodded, and it struck me then that he’d put a lot of faith in me, the chief hangman’s daughter, more than anyone ever had, by trusting me to not fuck up. Kit had likely felt differently before he died, though. Guilt swamped me all over again when I thought of him.
“That vampire on the roof…” I said. “She had to know she couldn’t go in direct sunlight, so why did she?”
“I’m not sure…” he said with a frown. “Extreme thirst for blood?”
The door clicked open, and Allison and her lipsticked sneer entered, followed by Dad. A smile waved over his face when he saw me, lighting it up for a second, and the familiar urge to plant myself next to him bit at my feet. But I stamped it down. He’d allowed the church to shun me, and even for the man who’d helped create me, I wasn’t ready to forgive. His smile faltered, and then faded completely when his blue eyes settled on my collar.
“Fin…” He opened his mouth to say more, but whatever it was died on his tongue. The lines etched on his forehead grew deeper, swallowing the rest of his features with grief, as if I’d already lost my vocal cords and died.
“The congregation has decided that in light of you helping Hendry make it back here and your quick-wittedness, if you will”—Allison laughed, apparently from a joke only she thought was funny—“that you will be allowed to stay here temporarily. As soon as he’s up to it, Hendry can guide you to a safe place, and then you can be on your way. Separately.”
I winged up an eyebrow. Was she worried I would taint him with my non-church tongue? The thought of going outside again folded my stomach around all the bread I’d eaten and threatened to shoot it back up. But I refused to give Allison the satisfaction of seeing me weak and terrified.
I blanked my face so hopefully no one would read my self-doubt. “Fine. When Hendry’s up to it.”
Allison lifted her chin and turned to the door. Dad glanced at me with a pained grimace, his fingers worrying at his sides as if he might say something, but he followed her on his bum leg without a word.
“Don’t get too comfortable.” Hendry lay back down on the cot. The expanse of skin on his chest rippled with each of his breaths in hypnotic waves. “Because we leave for the brothel again tomorrow.”
I sighed. “So soon? Because I can wait, and I’m sure Tessa can, too.”
“I may know of a way to get our collars off without killing us,” he said, closing his eyes.
“Well, that would be a huge plus.” I touched my fingertips to mine and winced.
“You did good today, Fin,” he said. “Really good, despite all the fuck-ups, yours and mine, every single one of which I’m sorry about.”
He kept saying he was sorry, which I appreciated, but his sincerity warped my view of him into a diff
erent Hendry than I thought I knew—someone who cared. Almost everything that had happened today had changed my perspective of him in varying degrees.
“Thanks, I guess.” I shrugged as if didn’t matter, but it did. He’d said I’d done good, and I had. I was still alive, at least for today. “You seem surprised that I did okay out there. Did you think I was some helpless princess?”
“No.” He clasped his hands over his impressive six pack. “Maybe a little. If there’s one thing I’ve learned today, it’s better for you to be a dinosaur than a princess.”
I frowned. “Dinosaurs died out though, so…better how?”
He gazed up at the ceiling as if to carefully choose his next words from the water-stained tiles. “They’re strong, and they weren’t a slave to their fears, perceived or real…” After several moments, he turned to me, his expression more determined than I’d ever seen it. “Go. Rest. Tomorrow, we’ll work on getting rid of that very real fear around your—our—necks.”
I nodded and stood, not quite sure who was more afraid of my collar—him or me.
Chapter 5
146 Hours Left
The next morning, I strode down the hallway from the kitchen, this time carrying my own supplies—water, food, clothes, and a few other necessities—inside a camouflage backpack I’d scrounged up from the cardboard goddess room. The supplies would last me a few days, so if I once again didn’t last inside the brothel longer than one of Tessa’s patronizing glares, I would be able to draw out my demise into a slow, tortuous ordeal made slightly better with chocolate biscuits.
Allison stood behind Hendry in front of the doors, ready to see us both out. She aimed a plastic smile toward me, positively giddy I was leaving again.
Hendry gazed at me as I sidled up next to him, and his mouth twitched as he faced forward. Had that been a smile or just my nerves jumping things into existence that weren’t really there?
I wanted to ask, but the last metal slat on the lock glided to the side, and the door clicked open, cutting off the potential for conversation. Hendry walked out into the blinding daylight first, his leg seemingly healed. I followed, a heavy mix of homesickness and terror needling through my heart on the first step.
The slightest breeze stirred wisps of hair around my neck. The air felt cooler and less oppressive today, and I threw my head back to soak it in for just a moment. Hendry stood near the first car, glancing back at me. Something flickered across his eyes, but it snuffed itself out when his gaze shifted behind me to the closing church door. Allison’s floral-scented magic swept from behind me toward him, and a wince leaped across his face. With balled fists, he crossed toward the ladder to leave me alone on the church porch with nothing but confusion to keep me company.
I had every intention of biting the toes of my boots into his heels today, though. When I sped up, my view became his olive-green shirt hugging the bulges and curves across his shoulders. As we climbed onto the roof, I memorized the steel columns of his legs, how the hems of his jeans brushed against the backs of his black cowboy boots. The way he moved reminded me of rippling water, so full of beauty and grace. The sun touched his hair in several shades of coffee and outlined them in fire, depending on which way the breeze flipped his curls. He seemed made for this outside world, while all I wanted to do was retreat inside to safety.
When I stepped past the large hole in the church’s roof to the edge, the sound of fingernails on metal behind me scraped a long shiver up my spine. Something crunched like dead leaves, then a loud clatter jumped my stomach into my throat. I couldn’t see anything but an open blue sky over the church. Not even the ladder I’d stepped off to get here. It was gone.
I froze and held my breath, waiting. It had sounded like the ladder had tipped over the tailgate of the truck, but I didn’t dare go look.
Instead, I dropped to my hands and knees and climbed across the ladder in front of me with slick palms. Halfway across, the hairs underneath my mesh sleeves spiked, and the sense that I was being watched sped my movements. When I finally stood on the other side, I chanced a look back then down at the street. Patches of shade spotted the overgrown grass and sidewalks, but nothing lurked there or the tops of the other buildings. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was no longer alone.
Hendry was already crossing the next building’s roof, so I clambered after him as fast as I could. Once I’d almost made it to the end of the ladder, it glowed a vibrant red. Just like it had on the brothel roof when a vampire was near.
Something crashed behind me. I whipped my head around, causing the metal rails to totter wildly, but I couldn’t wrench myself around far enough to see what was happening. Panic filtered in with my next inhale, squeezing my lungs, trembling my arms and legs. I launched myself off the ladder onto the building and spun, my eyes widening to take in everything at once.
The ladder. Not the one I’d just crossed, but the one before it. I didn’t see it. Was something following me and stealing my—Hendry’s—way back home?
Then the red ladder, the one I had just crossed, shook violently against both roofs. The force of the juddering shoved it toward me. I reeled back and landed on my ass, kicking my boots over loose gravel to scoot away. The farthest end of the ladder, which was no longer connected to the next building, skidded down the peeling paint on the wall with twin scratches until it vanished. The nearest end leaned against the building I sat on, then it tipped sideways onto the ground with a thud.
The Berkano were stealing ladders. Why? To screw with us?
I twisted to all fours, and then hauled ass to the next ladder. As I crossed, I searched the shaded ground between buildings for any signs of movement, the hairs all along my body still prickling. It was like they were stalking me to see where I went and thieving the ladders while they followed.
My teeth clenched, sweat dripping into my eyes, my shoulders pinched to my ears in case the Berkano knocked the ladder off while I scrambled over it. Finally, I made it to the last building—the brothel.
Hendry lay on his back near the rectangular door that led inside, the leg he’d hurt stretched out in front of him, his head propped on one arm. I marched toward him, loudly and in total dinosaur rage, and he didn’t even turn his head. After I’d run across all those buildings fearing for my life, he’d better not be fucking sleeping.
I tore two marker boards from my backpack, something I’d packed beforehand in case a situation arose where we needed to communicate. With shaky hands, I managed to spill my markers to the ground. Finally, I uncapped one and scrawled, Someone followed me & took the ladders. Then I shoved the board in his face. When all he did was blink up at it, I wrote WHY?, then erased the ink with my sweaty wrists and threw the board at him so he’d answer me.
He caught the board and flung it across the roof where it skidded to a stop near the edge. I gaped down at him as violent bursts of color smudged my vision. My fingernails bit into my palms, and words I was so desperate to spit at him curled my lips.
When he jolted up and started to turn to the door in the roof, dismissing me, I chucked the marker at his head. A big black mark dotted right between his eyes, which snapped up in narrowed slits.
His arm flew out and hooked me just behind my knees. My feet went flying, and I hit the rooftop hard. When my metal collar clinked against the surface, the shock vibrated my bones. All my air siphoned out, and I lay there breathless while various forms of slow, painful, murderous scenes pinged through my head. Hendry’s, not mine.
His face twisted in a glower, he lunged and landed on me. I didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but he wasn’t making it any easier to pull in ragged breaths. I bucked underneath him and swung my fists at and around the target I’d marked on his forehead.
One of his hands tried to still my hips. The other managed to lock my hands over my head, but I refused to stop squirming to get him the fuck off. I kicked my legs out, but he easily dodged my knees to his groin. He locked my legs between his steely ones so he covere
d the length of my body with his. I twisted to knock him off, but he was too heavy.
Our breaths mingled as I glared up into his too-close face. His fingertips eased a stray hair off my cheek, shocking me motionless with that gentle caress. His gaze dipped to my lips and slowly tracked back up again. What looked like hunger flared hot in his hazel eyes, curling a burst of flame deep between my legs. It was so unexpected, so intrusive on my murderous thoughts, that the air snagged in my lungs.
He flicked his gaze back the way we’d come, and the desire in his eyes quickly faded. He released my arms, then crept his fingertips over my mouth with a shake of his head. His jaw set tight, he looked toward the roof again.
I stiffened beneath him, my senses burning for a sign of danger. Then a clink, like a metal ladder, sounded. Was someone climbing up to the roof, this one, with us?
A long wooden stick speared through the air next to my head in a shadow.
“Did I hit it?” someone called from over the side.
They were talking. Loudly. Outside. The sound of voices would stir the Berkanos’ bloodlust, and daylight or no, they would come running. It was said that they communicated telepathically and had no use for speaking, so if a human or witch did speak, it marked them as dinner.
I shook my head under Hendry’s grip on my mouth. We had to get inside. Now.
But he stayed on top of me, shielding me, from whatever ridiculously stupid person had spoken.
There were more metallic clinks like footsteps, and then a weathered face surrounded by bushy white hair appeared over the edge. The rest of the man followed, and he carried a large bow in his hands with a quiver of arrows strung to his curved back. He didn’t appear to notice us as he stepped closer, the spurs on his worn boots clanking. His toe caught a wooden stick on the ground that looked similar to the arrows strapped behind him. His foot found another and then another. Had he been shooting arrows up here? He’d asked if he’d hit “it,” but there was no it. Not yet, anyway.
Blood Song: Division 7: The Berkano Vampire Collection Page 6