Dawn of Eve

by Pam Godwin

  On the fifth day, the convoy stopped, and Salem opened the door for the first time without blindfolding me. “We’re home.”

  I wiped sweaty palms on my leather pants and tugged at the green silk corset, my chest and shoulders nude in the humid air. I felt exposed, vulnerable, borderline trashy in this outfit, but it was the only clothes he’d given me today.

  Insides fluttering, I climbed out, my boots wobbling as I stepped though a dimly lit underground parking garage.

  “Don’t be nervous.” He placed a hand on the small of my back and led me across the vast space toward a steel door.

  Electric bulbs flickered on the ceiling. The fissures in the concrete floor had been sealed with layers of glue-like tar. Hundreds of parking spots spread out around me, but there was only a few dozen cars and trucks, all decked out with the same armor and rugged bumpers as those in the convoy.

  On the other side of the garage was a windowless door large enough for a truck to pass through, reinforced with thick steel bars. If the double gate wasn’t enough to prevent escape, the twenty armed hybrids that guarded it would stop me. No one was entering or exiting unless they allowed it.

  Erebus and several other hybrids swept in behind us, expressions expectant and eyes alert as they followed us to the door.

  The urge to reach for an arrow curled my fingers. I didn’t have my bow or my mother’s dagger. Nothing to defend myself except the fangs digging into my bottom lip. I was prey, encircled by a pack of predators, and Salem was leading me into their den.

  As we approached the door, a strange rhythmic noise thumped from behind it. I tilted my head, brow furrowing. It sounded electronic, almost metallic, like something out of one of those music players I’d heard as a child.

  I stopped at the door, pressed my hand against it, marveling as the dull thump vibrated through my body. “What is that?”

  Salem laughed and shook his head.

  “Welcome to my utopia.” Eyes gleaming, he opened the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The door swung open, bringing with it a muffled discordance of electronic thunder. The sound throbbed in a continual tempo—boom boom boom—forcing my heart to submit to the pounding rhythm. Where there was music, there were people. Hybrids. The hairs on my nape shivered.

  I’d been around acoustic instruments at the dam and through my travels. But this was different, more barbarous, vibrating the floor with deep droning thuds and pulsating through my body. A trickle of fear slid down my spine, but curiosity kept me moving.

  With Erebus’s towering shadow behind me, Salem led us through the door, down several flights of concrete stairs, and into a corridor floored with white and black patterned carpet.

  Salem didn’t touch me, but his long-legged strides slowed, accommodating mine. Black leather stretched across his powerful legs, his t-shirt too tight for my greedy eyes. I hated him. I craved him. My entire body hummed at his closeness.

  How did he define my position in his domain? How would his friends react to my presence? I wasn’t his equal here. I didn’t look like a prisoner either. The absence of restraints gave a false sense of freedom. He didn’t need to bind my hands or muzzle my fangs. His speed and strength made him a more effective force than chains, shackles, or gags.

  If, by some miracle, I managed to slip away from him, I’d never make it past his armed hybrid guards. They stood at every corner of every corridor. Crossbows, axes, swords, and fangs—I saw every shape and size of crude weaponry from the parking garage to the bowels of his lair. Mouth dry, I flexed my hands and forced my feet forward.

  Dark textured paint coated the walls, illuminated by recessed lighting in the ceiling. The deeper we moved into the underground structure, the louder the music thumped.

  “Do you have unlimited electricity?” I kept my arms at my sides and shoulders back. “The lights and the music…is it all running off generators?”

  Hoover Dam was a hydroelectricity facility, powered by water. It practically ran itself. But this, wherever I was, had been updated in the new world.

  “I have engineers.” He raised his voice to speak over the increasingly loud music coming from around the corner. “They deal with all that.”

  No surprise. Hybrids were resourceful. They had the speed, intellect, and governing power to establish small cities while humans hid in camps and fought to survive.

  “Have you been building this place since you were fifteen?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Pride glimmered in his eyes.

  I hated to admit it, but I was impressed. No wonder I hadn’t seen or heard of him until recently. He’d been busy.

  Up ahead, the corridor opened into a spacious room. Plush furniture fringed the perimeter, flickering with shadows from the movement around the corner.

  “How many hybrids live here?” I dragged my boots along the carpet, stomach tightening.

  “Around seventy or eighty at any given time.”

  The music blared as we approached the threshold. The air was smoky, redolent of cigarettes, a waft of alcohol, and the ominous scent of blood and sex.

  As I turned the bend, I counted thirteen males and four females. At least one of the women was human, her mouth agape as she lay nude beneath a rutting male right there on the rug in the center of the room. My muscles heated, preparing to fight for her, but the thrust of her hips and the blissful look on her face rooted my boots to the floor.

  She was older than me by at least five years, as were the other human women. That meant they were born pre-virus, cured by my mother, and immune to the hybrids’ bite.

  All the women were either fucking or bending their necks beneath a fanged mouth. Some were joined with multiple males in positions I’d never dreamed, their bodies rocking and grinding to the rhythm of the music.

  I didn’t know what I’d expected, but it wasn’t this. My skin flushed at the raw eroticism of the scene, but the presence of women had a deeper effect, sprouting a seed of dread in the pit in my stomach. I’d envisioned only males living here, like a secret brotherly order. A naive assumption. Of course, there’d be women. Salem hadn’t become a skilled lover by fucking his hand.

  Venom seared through my chest. I swallowed, breathed, and fought to smother my jealousy. Irrational emotions would not get me out of this.

  The layout of the room was reminiscent of a lobby in one of those old abandoned hotels, with corridors leading off in every direction. But instead of broken chandeliers, dusty furniture, and scattered debris, the yawning space was lavishly maintained, glittering with fancy light fixtures, rich woods, and plush fabrics.

  Paintings hung from the walls. Thumping bass shook the crystal decor. Sweaty bodies tangled together on elegant furniture and rugs. A long mahogany bar and dozens of couches and armchairs provided areas to sit and chill, where the rest of the males congregated.

  I’d never been in a place so luxurious and clean. I was afraid to put my boots on the polished marble floors.

  Salem stepped forward, and the hybrids stirred. The rutting stopped. Every head in the room swiveled in his direction.

  “You’re back!” someone shouted.

  An uproarious burst of cheers drowned the electronic beats. Then the music shut off, and the hybrids straightened their clothes, continuing their hooting and hollering as they raced to greet Salem. A few feet away, they slowed. Quieted. Their eyes locked on me.

  Silence blanketed the room. The impulse to curl in on myself pulled at my shoulders.

  Glares upon glares, the hybrids perused me head to toe. Recognition hardened their eyes, but their drawn brows and tense muscles suggested they hadn’t expected the daughter of Eve to be here, let alone to still be alive. Even the half-dressed human woman tossed me a loaded glance. But beneath the males’ aggressive postures, there was something else. Interest. Hunger.

  Unease clenched my stomach, my nerves wrung so tight I fought the urge to heave. And run.

  Beside me, Salem stood tall and commanding, back straight, han
ds clasped behind him, his entire demeanor uncompromising and alpha to the core. With one silent stare, he prompted every head in the room to lower. Some of the hybrids took a step back.

  “Salem!” a husky female voice shrieked from the hall on the right.

  The slap of bare feet marked the woman’s running approach. A tall blonde shoved through the pack of males and leapt onto Salem’s body in a cloud of flower-scented soap and transparent pink silk. Her legs and arms wrapped around him, and her lips peppered his face.

  Prickles swept up my neck and burned my cheeks. He stood unemotionally still beneath her affection, but I knew he’d fucked her. She was way too touchy-feely for this to be anything else. Was she his girlfriend? One of many? I felt sick, agonizingly bitter, and spinning toward rage.

  “Macaria.” He clutched her waist, forcing her legs to lower to the floor as he set her away.

  “Oh my fucking Eve, I missed you.” She slid back in, molding her curvy body against his side.

  My pulse howled through my ears, my skin afire with unholy fury. I wanted to stab something in her eyes and crush her skull beneath my boots.

  “I missed your bite.” She dragged her tongue along his neck. “And your gorgeous cock.” She cupped him through his leather pants.

  Red blurred my vision, and a feral growl erupted from my throat. The unnatural sound startled me as much as it did her, her gaze flying to mine and opening wide as she noticed me for the first time. Just as quick, she jerked toward me with a scornful snarl hissing past her human teeth.

  I thrust forward, baring my fangs inches from her face as I reared back my fist—

  Salem roared, the deep guttural sound so hostile and terrifying it reverberated through my bones and wobbled my knees.

  The very air shuddered, and every mortal in the room cringed with instinctual terror. The potent aggression morphing Salem’s face scared the piss out of me, but I stood straight and blanked my expression, refusing to wither.

  The woman—Macaria—stumbled back, cowering beneath the cover of her hands. “I’m sorry, Salem. I forgot myself.”

  Murderous rancor tore through my insides like jagged shards of glass. But I couldn’t kill her. Eve help me if I did. Eve help them all, because that woman was human, younger than me, and not infected. That made her fertile, rare, and indispensable. She was the most integral commodity to mankind.

  Salem, now composed and unnervingly quiet, gripped my arm and guided me to the center of the large sitting area. The residents turned but remained where they were, leaving a ten-foot space between the pack and their leader. The hybrids’ unquestionable allegiance was a reminder that Salem had bitten them, freed their minds, and in return, earned their devotion.

  My heart beat erratically. What was he planning and would I survive it? He’d said he wanted to protect me, but trust was no longer a component in our relationship. His friends wanted me dead.

  He released my arm and didn’t spare me a glance as he commanded the room’s attention with the blinding, unforgiving cast of his gaze. “You’re all wondering why the daughter of Eve is alive and standing among us. She’s here because that’s what pleases me.”

  Restlessness rolled through the room. Erebus towered over them all, his blue eyes hard and vigilant. I tried not to fidget, but fuck me, I felt too many heated stares on my throat.

  “She’s no longer a threat to your species.” Salem tilted his head, and his messy black hair fell across his brow. “She’ll remain here indefinitely, living among us. She’s human, with human weaknesses. If she tries to attack you, do not engage. You can easily sidestep her without contact. That is exactly what I expect you to do.”

  My chest heaved with indignation. I was a battle-honed warrior, the leader of the Resistance, and this motherfucker talked as if I were nothing more than his pet.

  “What about her fangs?” a male voice asked from the crowd.

  The hard lines of Salem’s jaw sharpened. “Steer clear of them.”

  That’s right, assholes.

  I might’ve been physically weaker and slower, but my bite would reduce them to ash. However, the likelihood of attacking a hybrid, pinning him down, and imbibing his blood before he disabled me was slim to none. Salem and my fathers had to hold down Kip for eternal seconds before I’d turned him to ash.

  Something clicked in the back of my mind. I didn’t feel the urge to sink my fangs into hybrids. Couldn’t use my mouth as an offensive weapon in battle. Didn’t have venom to extract and harness as a cure.

  Because I’m not meant to do any of those things.

  My heart raced as I recalled Michio’s lessons in evolution. Were my fangs an anti-predator adaption? A function of aposematism, where prey animals deterred predators from attacking by mimicking a species with badass defenses? The hornet moth looked like a wasp, but it had no stinger. The red milk snake resembled the venomous coral snake, but it was harmless. I had fangs like a hybrid, the razored points serving as a warning—Stay away. I’m poisonous—but I couldn’t overpower a predator.

  How did this fit in with prophecy? If my fangs were simply a defense mechanism meant to keep me alive, I could buy that. My mother had evolved in unimaginable ways after the virus hit. But my fangs only appeared when I sensed Salem. And there were the other vexing issues involving our connection and my urge to bite him, and only him.

  As I focused on the dull charge in my chest and followed the electric link to the wall of darkness that was Salem, I had an epiphany. He hadn’t been closing off our connection. It was my instincts telling me, long before I knew he moved like the speed of light, that I needed him to let me bite him. I could seduce and fight and strike to exhaustion, but I would never be fast enough to puncture his vein. But if he gave me his vein willingly, it was game over.

  How the hell would I convince him to do that?

  The night I told my fathers I was leaving, Roark walked me out of their room and said, “1 Corinthians 13:2…Though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains. But have not love, I am nothing.”

  He was telling me that love conquered all. But could it vanquish darkness? Only a week ago, my connection with Salem was a symbol of our love. Now it was shrouded in toxicity. His end was deceitful and manipulative, and mine was bitter and full of contempt.

  I needed to fix this, and it started with forgiveness.

  My hackles went up at the thought.

  “What happens if she bites us?” someone asked from across the room.

  “Her fangs won’t just kill you.” Salem’s eyelashes twitched against his cheeks. Then he met their gazes with an unwavering gleam. “You’ll turn to ash.”

  Whispers rose, and he slashed an arm through the air, silencing them instantly.

  “Heed my warning.” He regarded them with the dangerous eyes of an underworld lord. “If anyone touches her or so much as breathes in her direction, I will kill you.”

  I didn’t sense him remove my pants and boots. Didn’t realize he’d bent me over the arm of the nearest couch until it was too late. One second I was standing beside him, and the next I was naked from the waist down and screaming in shock beneath the merciless ram of his cock.

  He fucked me dry, without preparing me. Fucked me in front of a room of hybrids. Fucked me like I was an object without voice or feeling. He was staking his claim, pissing on his property, and shredding my soul.

  It was impossible to fight him off. With a hand shackling my wrists behind me and the other on my jaw, he held my mouth shut in a vise grip and restrained me beneath the hammering stab of his cock. I couldn’t tell him no, couldn’t lash at him with fangs. All I could do was strain against the arm of the couch and take it.

  Tears blurred my vision, but I was horrifyingly aware of the audience—the rising pace of their breaths, the shift of their boots, and the heat of their eyes. At the edge of my periphery, a swirl of pink silk flashed away, followed by the fading slap o
f Macaria’s feet. I should’ve been pleased by her absence, but the pain from Salem’s disgusting performance overshadowed everything.

  Physical and emotional agony twisted me inside out. His violation was shockingly brutal, the loss of control petrifying. Then his fangs broke the skin on my throat and pierced my vein, robbing me of my sanity. What had felt like pain only moments ago was now a languid molten river of lust. He violated me, but what was worse was the betrayal of my body against me. Pleasure curled through my insides, tightening my nipples, soaking my pussy, and hijacking my senses.

  The corset cinched my ribs. My hips rolled uncontrollably, and my inner muscles clamped around him, greedy and wanton. He rode me to the edge of orgasm, thrusting with barbaric possessiveness. He would push me over any second, force me to spasm on his cock, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. I was so close, right there, and I fucking hated him.

  He slid his fangs from my neck and adjusted the angle of his thrusts, unerringly hitting the spot that set me afire.

  I came, reluctantly and violently, sobbing my humiliation against the grip of his hand.

  “Mine.” His voice was smoke, smoldering and deadly, then louder, roaring as he spilled inside me. “She’s mine.”

  In the next breath, I was plunging down a dark tunnel. He’d swept me out of that room, and when the sensation of falling halted, he stood in a regal suite, cradling my body against his chest.

  I pushed at him, shaking and devastated. He set me on the edge of a bed, stripped off my corset, and wrapped me in a soft blanket. I swayed, shivered, reduced to a mess of swollen flesh and mangled emotions, my heart raw and crushed to pulp.

  A knock sounded on the door. As he retreated across the room to open it, I tried to gather my wits, but everything was fuzzy, my blood doused in adrenaline. I still hadn’t caught my breath.