“So why can’t you ever go back? To London, I mean.” Phoe noted his eye twitch at the mention of it.
“Let’s just say that the king and I are not best mates.”
“He seems like a stuffy old queen anyway,” Phoe replied.
Cage laughed. “Indeed. But he has a tremendous singing voice.”
She rolled her eyes. “See, there’s so much that we, the general populace, just don’t know.”
He smirked. “Yes, well, I’m afraid I left a bit of a mess the last time I was home.”
“What sort of mess?”
“Oh, you know. Destruction of property, a city block in ruins, lives of British citizens disregarded.”
“I see.”
He seemed to consider his words carefully, as if he weren’t sure just how much he wanted to confess. “After Corinne, I was insane with grief. And I’m not exaggerating by saying that. I was literally certifiable.”
“Understandably so.”
“Everyone told me to let it go. That I should just pray for peace and move on, but I couldn’t. I wanted revenge. I wanted to make sure that the butcher that killed my wife and child would suffer. Slowly and painfully. I became obsessed with finding them, but I realized that the assassins were just part of a larger web, and I wanted to bring them all down. I knew that it would take more than a mere man to do it. So I went to Oliver for help.”
“Oliver? You mean Dr. Manning? I thought he was a geneticist.”
“He was.” The truck gave an angry growl as Cage shifted gears. A metallic grinding that did not sound good. “Shit. I’m not sure how much longer this thing is going to make it.”
“Will it get us to town?”
“Let’s hope.” Cage stomped on the clutch, forcing the gear change. Miraculously, they kept moving forward. “Anyway, Ollie is a geneticist. He’s been working with the IU, studying those creatures. After they started coming more frequently, the IU decided it had better come up with a strategy to eradicate them. Quickly. Our weapons were primitive and sloppy. These creatures are like nothing we’ve ever seen before. Not just monstrous, mindless things like dragons and chimera, but vampires and werewolves—things that could think and reason and blend in to our world. Those are the things they were most interested in. Intelligent monsters can cause more damage. So the IU’s big idea was to create something that could fight them.”
“Something like you, you mean?”
“Exactly. First they tried to raise their own, capturing as many of them as they could and trying to tame them. But those things, they have different rules than we do. It was a disaster. The creatures, of course, turned on their masters.”
Phoe nodded, trying to imagine the horror of what happened.
“Then,” Cage continued, “they thought perhaps they could create something new. Robots, cyborgs, and all these strange biomechanical things that could be programmed for combat. That’s all well and good, but the machines couldn’t reason and strategize like a human. That’s where Oliver came in. He was part of the original project and had harvested genetic code from all the creatures they caught. He had the idea that they could splice the DNA of the creatures with that of a human host, picking and choosing the strengths of each one and thus creating a superman. The perfect assassin.”
“Jesus, Cage, that sounds like something out of Shelley.”
“Exactly. That’s what the IU said. They thought Oliver was out of his mind and cut his funding. They refused to let him test the Splice on a human subject.”
“And you volunteered?”
Cage nodded. “I thought that if the Splice worked, I would have the strength to do what I had to.”
“And did you?”
“Not exactly. Physically yes. I can do all the things you’ve seen, plus more that you haven’t. But I couldn’t control the rage. I didn’t know my own strength. I was like some kind of angry giant, just destroying everything in my path. I had all the strengths of the creatures, but their weaknesses too: bloodlust, weakness in the light, blind rage, an extreme allergy to anything composed of silver. The whole project was trashed, and essentially I was exiled. Services rendered to the British nation is the only reason I’m not rotting away in a prison right now.”
Phoe was confused. She had seen him fight, and it had been so controlled. Almost choreographed. “But you seem fine now.”
“I suppose. Once I took down the Somali organization that killed Corinne, I realized I had no choice but to control it. I don’t want to be a monster. It would be an insult to Corinne’s memory. She loved me despite the things I’d done. She knew what sort of man I was, am, and I couldn’t disappoint her like that. So I learned to control the rage and, in turn, the shifting. I’m not going to say it’s not still painful. And that there are times when I can’t, but I’m better.”
The city of Tulsa rose out of the flatland like some weird mothership. The first rays of the sun had just begun to bleed into the deep blue of the night sky, and there was a surreal look to the stars that still dotted the sky.
Like most large cities, Tulsa was a sprawling, insomniac beast with its snaking freeways, ridiculously bright lights, and crystal spires that reached far into the atmosphere. Phoe shivered. She hated large cities. They made her feel small and insignificant. They were like these huge lab experiments where the scientists take away all the food to see how long it takes the rats to eat each other.
“We’ll find a hotel near the town center,” Cage said.
“I thought you wanted to keep a low profile.”
“Considering what the local no-tell motels in this area are like, and the fact that we probably have enormous prices on our heads, at this point inside the city is probably our best bet.”
“Safety in numbers?”
“Precisely.”
14
Cage pulled off the exit into a crowded city street. Phoe’s eyes were everywhere. She couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the opulence of the place. Sleek cars that made Sadie’s truck look like a trash heap whizzed by on either side of them.
Here, the lanes were mere suggestions as they wove in and out of traffic. Cage had a mischievous grin as he whipped the truck around a carload full of overprivileged teenagers in a vintage Jaguar. They didn’t have much to be snotty about. The real jet set in the city was hovering over them in their shuttles and prowlers.
Phoe stared out the window, watching with childlike amazement as they dotted the sky like shooting stars. It was like something out of a movie.
“I’d never have believed that we could live in such a world,” she said.
Cage chuckled. “You really are sheltered, aren’t you?”
“I suppose so. Let’s put it this way, we don’t have much in the way of flying cars in St. Francisville.”
“In some of the larger cities—London, Vegas—they don’t have streets anymore. Prowlers and shuttles overhead, and Maglevs that creep beneath the city. In London, there are places where the sidewalks are glass and you can see The Underground rushing under your feet.”
“That sounds amazing,” Phoe said. Everything here was so big. So much. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Welcome to the outside world, Miss Addison.” He swerved off the side street and onto a massive freeway dotted with headlights. “But surely in New Orleans…”
“New Orleans is the South, sweetie. People aren’t that quick to change. There weren’t many flying cars or skyscrapers around. If you wanted to build a Maglev station, you might have to destroy the ‘graves of the glorious dead,’” Phoe said dramatically, laying her accent on thick. “Somebody’s great-grandpappy might have died in that spot on his way home from the War of Northern Aggression.”
“What?” Cage chuckled.
“The Civil War. People in the South act like it was just last year and not hundreds of years ago.”
“Well that’s not so bad. Preserving your history isn’t a terrible thing.”
“No, but living in it is.”
&nbs
p; Cage nodded. “Would it please you to know that one of the major North American hubs of the vampire community is in New Orleans?”
“That doesn’t surprise me in the least. The South worships death in a way most of the world probably thinks is weird. We embrace the darkness, I guess.”
“New Orleans has a special attraction for a vampire. As you say, the atmosphere lends itself to their strengths. They can blend in and spread their disease easily in such a prime hunting ground. Nasty parasites they are.”
“You don’t consider yourself one of them.”
He threw a sideways glance and winked playfully. “Vampires are undead. Rotting corpses kept fresh with blood. As we proved,” he wigged his brows, “I am very much alive.”
Phoe rolled her eyes. “Can you die?”
He grinned. It was such a nice grin that changed his entire demeanor. His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Not so far.”
Phoe smiled. “Anyway, I don’t think New Orleans was any great loss for me. Jess thinks it is. She thinks I’ve always been angry at her because I had to leave my big city job to take care of Mom.”
“You weren’t?”
“That was part of it. But I was more pissed off that Jess didn’t seem to care that our mother was dying. I know people feel things differently, but deep down I felt, and still feel, like I’m alone in the world and no one’s going to be there to help me.”
“You aren’t alone, Phoe. I’m going to help you.”
“I know,” she said, placing a hand against his chest to feel the steady cadence of his chest moving up and down with every breath. It was a comfort and she relaxed. Suddenly she realized how tired she was. It seemed like days since last she slept.
So much had happened, and she could feel the weight of the fight that was to come. She could feel something building. Something that was lingering in the air around them. Every part of her seemed to buckle under the weight of it, and she was exhausted.
Phoe was nearly asleep when they pulled into the hulking parking monstrosity. “We’re here,” Cage murmured, brushing his fingertips through her hair.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Her brain was rebelling against being pulled back to consciousness, and she felt disoriented. It was more evident when she pushed open the rusty, stiff door of the truck and slid out.
“Where are we?”
“The Mayo. I know the manager and he’s discreet. We’ll be safe here.”
“Do you know everybody?”
“Just about,” Cage said. “I’ve helped a lot of people out of a lot of messes. They, in turn, owe me a lot of favors.” Taking his arm, she let him lead her around the building and into the side door of the hotel.
To say that The Mayo was lavish would be an understatement. It was the type of hotel you saw on television as a child and longed to stay in. The kind of hotel where movie stars stayed and rock stars trashed their rooms.
The façade sparkled with glass and crystal chandeliers in the dim light of sunrise. It rose high into the sky, a pristine reminder of the old town that this sleek maze of streets was built on top of. On top of the old parking deck was a glass hangar that stretched the length of the garage and was connected to the hotel by a heavy glass breezeway.
The hallway leading into the lobby was floored with pink marble that shone so brightly they could see their reflection. Phoe cringed. She looked like she’d been through the wars.
Her hair was a mess of stringy waves only tamed by the ribbon she’d managed to find. Her eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion, and her complexion was flecked with dirt. Looking like this made her self-conscious, and she pulled her jacket around her shoulders. In the large foyer in front of the reception desk, a sparkling crystal chandelier hung low, highlighting an intricate mosaic under their feet.
“Cage,” Phoe rasped. “We’re going to stick out here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at us. We look like we’ve been tromping through the woods for a week, having been attacked by vicious creatures.”
“We have been tromping through the woods for a week and have been attacked by vicious creatures.” Cage snickered and tightened his clasp on her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ve got everything under control.”
15
Phoe lay back against the cool porcelain, sinking into the depths of the water until her shoulders were hidden. She had run the water in the tub as hot as she could possibly stand it. Though her skin was red and the bathroom was completely enveloped in steam, it was the most delicious sensation she’d ever felt.
Well, almost.
The last several days, she hadn’t been able to have more than what old Miss Ava from across the street called a “whore’s bath” in the sink. Just enough to keep Phoe from stinking of sweat and dirt.
Tonight, she fully intended to scrub everything until her skin was tingling.
Cage was in the next room, moving around. The television was on, and some ridiculous comedy with a laugh track blared in the background. It felt so fucking normal.
Phoe giggled, then slapped a hand over her mouth. If he heard her laughing at nothing all alone in the bathroom, he might think she was losing it. Of course, that idea wasn’t too far-fetched.
Lately it seemed that her entire world was upside down in the most ridiculous of ways. Vampires? Werewolves and dragons lived among us and can shift at will? Doctors making a genetic soup to give people superpowers? It was insane.
Of course, this was her life now, and with Cage it didn’t seem so bad. Funny, she’d been sheltered for all of her life, but now that she’d been thrust into the real world, despite the incredible danger and the running for their lives part…she was having fun.
“Phoe? Are you all right in there?” Cage called.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m trying to get clean.” She reached behind her and pulled down a small bottle of soap. She inhaled the sweet scent and was thankful for this small bit of luxury. “Finally, civilization,” she sighed, looking around for a cloth. There were none as she looked around the bathroom. “Damn. What kind of hotel doesn’t have washcloths?” she mumbled.
“Looking for this?”
Phoe looked up to see Cage standing over her clutching a white cloth and his rucksack, totally naked. Her mouth watered as if she had been wandering in the desert for several days and had suddenly been presented with a sumptuous meal. In this light, she could see the impossible perfection of his skin. She wanted to taste it and unconsciously her hand reached out to touch him.
“Umm, which this?” she asked, a slow grin splitting her face.
He laughed and dropped the washcloth into the water before setting the rucksack on the lid of the toilet. “Mind if I join you?”
“If you don’t, I’ll be insulted,” she replied, sliding forward in the tub so that he could climb in behind her. As soon as he was situated, she slid into his arms and let him cradle her body to his chest.
He was warm, impossibly so, and it was a comfort. She laid her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes and concentrating on the slow cadence of his breath. All of the tensions and stressors of the last several days seemed to slip from her skin like the beads of water that collected in the valley between her breasts. One of his hands stroked idly through her hair, and before long she was dancing on the edge of consciousness.
Leaning forward a little, he grabbed his rucksack and began rummaging through it. He came up with a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and an old leather-bound book. The book was so old that the cover was no longer readable.
“What’s that?” she asked sleepily.
“Something I happened upon at Sadie’s. I thought you might like it.” He handed the book to her as he lit the cigarette.
Phoe turned the book over in her hands, enjoying the feel of the smooth leather against her fingertips. Already she could smell the mold of the old pages. She loved paper books, and this small item made her feel connected to the life she had waiting for her back at St. Francisville.
In
their world, hardcover and paperback books were becoming a rarity only found in basements and climate-controlled archives like the one she’d worked in so long ago. She flipped open the book and gasped when she saw the title page.
“Oh, Cage,” she sighed, tracing over the letters. It was a copy of Gone with the Wind. An ancient edition with lavish illustrations on the inside written in tiny print. “It’s beautiful. Thank you. But why?”
He shrugged. “You said it was important to you. And since I was the cause of your losing the other one, I thought I should replace it.”
Phoe turned the pages carefully, seeing these words that were so familiar. She must have read this book a hundred times, getting lost in the poetry and magnolia-soaked melodrama.
“What sort of book is it?” he asked. “It must be special for you to feel so strongly about it.”
She smiled, the sharp sting of nostalgia burning the corners of her eyes. “It’s a love story.”
“Ah,” he sighed, lighting the cigarette. “I always preferred adventure stories myself.”
“There’s adventure too. And war and tragedy.” Phoe leafed through the pages, her fingertips slowly moving over the words as if she might soak them into her skin.
“She was darkness and he was darkness and there had never been anything before this time, only darkness and his lips upon her,” she read. “It’s so beautiful, don’t you think?”
She shifted in the wide tub to look into Cage’s eyes. “The heroine, Scarlett, she spends her whole life trying to win the heart of the man she thinks she loves. Of course, she’s just a child, and everyone tells her that he’s not right for her, but she can’t help it. She’s too proud to let him go. She makes herself a fool for him, constantly pushing away her true soulmate. Of course at the end, she realizes that she really loves her soulmate, but by then it’s too late.”
“What a horrible story,” Cage grumbled.
Phoe laughed. “You’re right. It is a terrible story. Scarlett’s an idiot. And the historical setting of the Old South is something that never really existed. At least not in the pretty, pristine way in which it’s presented. It’s a fairytale, but I can’t help loving it.”
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