Boy of Blood

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Boy of Blood Page 18

by Megan O'Russell


  They didn’t speak as Raina led them through the city. The rows of trash finally ended, leaving them on a street that looked like it had recently seen a battle. The outsides of the buildings here were dented and cracked, like a hundred Rainas had decided they hated the bricks for existing.

  No one was in sight, but Nola could sense people waiting just out of view. In the shadows behind rusted and burned out old cars. Lurking in the wooden crates that leaned against the buildings, their fronts covered in cloth as though hiding a sleeping person within.

  Raina never paused, leading them down a street that had been taken by fire. The lopsided skeletons of the buildings were completely covered in black ash, but people slept within the ruins, huddled in thin blankets against the cold.

  Raina turned onto a street unlike any of the others. A long row of houses with streetlights keeping the shadows at bay. There were no signs of fighting or fires here. The fronts of these buildings were well tended, and the only scent in the air was the perpetual stench of decay that was impossible to avoid in the city.

  Six men appeared from the shadows as they approached.

  “Stay right there,” the first man said. He was tall and broad with a bat resting over his shoulder.

  “Oh really?” Raina sauntered forward. “And I suppose you’re going to make me?”

  “Ma’am, this is a private street.” The man with the bat stepped in front of Raina. “We can’t have any trespassers.”

  “You must be new,” Raina said. “My name is Raina, and if you want to keep your blood in your pathetic little veins, I suggest you step aside and apologize at once.”

  The man swallowed hard, his gaze traveling from Raina’s black eyes to her scarlet-and-purple streaked hair, finally landing on her knife in its sheath.

  “I apologize, Miss Raina.” The man bowed deeply, keeping his eyes continually on the knife. “I was told you were dead.”

  “Death can be so hard to define these days,” Raina said. “If you scamper like a good little guard and don’t bother me again, I’ll let you live. How’s that?”

  “Yes, Miss Raina.” The man bowed again, backing away. “Thank you, Miss Raina.”

  The other guards followed, never taking their eyes off Raina as they disappeared into the shadows.

  “They are adorable.” Raina sighed. “Little, naïve things who think they can keep away the boogeymen.”

  “Who are they?” Nola whispered as they moved down the street. The windows in the buildings were dim, but the streetlights glinted off delicate curtains and plants resting on windowsills. “What is this place?”

  “The guards were guards,” Raina said, “and this is what we on the outside call a nice neighborhood. When the world falls apart, it doesn’t happen all at the same rate. The people who live here own the factories that supplied the domes, are a part of the vague thing we like to call city government, or are just plain rich enough to pretend the city they live in isn’t rapidly burning to the ground.”

  “It’s pretty.” Nola smiled as they passed a house with a bright blue door. “How many other places are there like this?”

  “None,” Beauford said. “Not anymore. There used to be a few streets like this.”

  “But Bellevue is the last one left.” Raina ran up the stairs to a house and banged on the door. “Every time something horrible happened, another one of the nice streets would disappear. They’d rot gradually or burn magnificently, but either way they’d be gone. This is the last façade in the dying city.”

  Lights flicked on in the windows that flanked the door. A silhouette appeared, holding what looked like a handgun.

  “Whoever you are, you had better get the hell off my steps and go back to wherever you came from!” a female voice shouted from inside the house.

  “Tsk, tsk.” Raina leaned into the crack by the doorjamb. “You really shouldn’t swear like that. It’s completely unbecoming of a lady.”

  The door swung open.

  “You?” The woman from inside stepped toward Raina, pointing a gun directly into her face. “What are you doing here?”

  “Is this any way to begin a homecoming?” Raina asked.

  “I told you never to come back here.” The woman stepped closer to Raina. She looked to be in her mid-fifties. Gray mixed in with her long, dark hair, and fine lines surrounded her full lips. “I told you, you don’t belong here.”

  “I would take you at your word, but the guards backed away so nicely when I told them I’d come to pay a call on my baby sister,” Raina said.

  “I can call them over here right now,” the woman said. “I won’t let you bring your fighting and blood into this house.”

  “We aren’t looking for a fight.” T stepped forward. She moved with her bare belly pushed out, making her pregnancy more obvious than ever. “There are some bad people who are looking for us, and all we want is a place to sleep out of their way until we can leave. We only need a place for one day.”

  “You bring a pregnant girl to my house with some blood-covered tramps and expect me to have sympathy for any of you? Gah.” The woman swung the door to the house fully open and stepped aside to let them in. “I want to know exactly what fresh hell you have brought to my door, Raina.”

  “Our door, little sister,” Raina said as she shut and locked the door behind her. “Remember, sweet mommy and daddy left the place to both of us.”

  “You really are sisters?” Nola looked from one to the other.

  “Of course Nettie and I are sisters.” Raina pinched Nettie’s cheeks.

  “My name is not Nettie,” Nettie growled.

  “Call her Nettie.” Raina smirked.

  “I don’t care what you tell the bloody little girl to call me, but please tell me why you’re in my house and—”

  “Our house.”

  “—who the hell is after you,” Nettie finished.

  “Language, little sister,” Raina warned, locking eyes with Nettie in a glare neither of them seemed willing to break.

  “The domes’ Outer Guard,” Nola finally said. “They were holding Raina and the other three…” Nola’s voice trailed away. “The other two captive. They found out we escaped, and now they’re looking for us.”

  “Captured by the domes?” Nettie raised a dark eyebrow. “Impressive even for you. But you didn’t say where you”—she pointed her gun at Nola—“little bloody girl, come into play.”

  “She’s a Domer,” Raina said. “A Domer with a heart of gold who just had to save us poor outsiders locked in cells. Or you could say she’s the infamous Nola Kent and has seen too much of the world to pretend it doesn’t exist. Too bad poor bloody girl doesn’t have a better imagination. She could be sleeping in her own bed right now.”

  “For God’s sake, Raina, don’t be rude to the infamous Nola Kent. If rumors are true, it’s your lot’s fault the city’s going to shit more quickly than ever.”

  “Why thank you.” Raina bowed.

  “And thank you for bringing fugitives into my—”

  “Our.”

  “—house,” Nettie spat. “The last thing I need is a load of Outer Guard busting down my front door.”

  “You really hate that this is my house, too.” Raina walked down the hall and rounded a corner. “Come on, you lot, enjoy my lavish living room.”

  “Fine, go,” Nettie said, “but please don’t get any blood or muck on the upholstery. It’s nigh on impossible to replace these days.”

  “Still keeping up appearances as the world crumbles?” Raina lay sprawled out on a bright red couch in the center of the room, facing a fireplace that took up most of one wall. In one corner of the room sat a marble table, supporting a vase filled with silk flowers, while in another, a matching table held a sparkling decanter filled with amber liquid.

  “I like to take good care of my things.” Nettie stalked to the corner and poured herself a glass from the crystal decanter. The strong scent of liquor wafted across the room. “And get your feet off the couch.”


  Raina hesitated before lowering her feet to the floor. “Only because you’re being so sweet to our guests.”

  “Anyone who is mixed up with you will need as much help as they can possibly get.” Nettie held her glass in the air before taking a long drink. “The sun should be up in an hour or so. How many can’t stand the sunlight?”

  “Only me, baby Nettie,” Raina said. “The others are human as human can be.”

  “Well, there is something in that.” Nettie downed the rest of her glass. “You get in the dark room. I’ll take the rest to get cleaned up before my whole house is covered in bloody footprints.”

  “How kind of you to worry about our carpet.” Raina stood. “You three find me when you’ve finished washing and sleeping…and dealing with Nettie. If the world hasn’t ended by then.” With one last glare at Nettie, Raina sauntered out of sight.

  “How pleasant,” Nettie growled.

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” Nola said. “Your house is beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” Nettie studied Nola, starting from her toes and moving all the way up. She turned to the decanter and poured herself a fresh drink. “I suppose if I am going to be caught with a fugitive, it might as well be a runaway Domer.”

  “The men outside,” Beauford asked, stepping in between Nola and Nettie, “can they be trusted? If they find out the domes are looking for us, will they tell them to knock on your door?”

  “Those men would protect the occupants of Bellevue Avenue with their lives.” Nettie waved her drink precariously through the air. “And they have no love for the domes besides. No, the damn Outer Guard will have to track you themselves.”

  “But won’t they know Raina’s your sister?” Nola asked. “I mean, if she really is your sister.”

  “Raina was my sister.” Nettie smiled ruefully. “A very long time ago. But as for them tracing that colorful-haired Vamper to my home, impossible. The Raina who was my sister is dead.”

  T stepped forward, reaching out to shake Nettie’s hand. “Well then, thank you even more for taking us in.”

  “Coming from the pregnant girl who I would be a monster to leave on the streets, that means so much.” Nettie raised her glass in salute.

  “I’ve been on the street before,” T said. “You are being good taking us in, not just avoiding being bad.”

  “Oh good God, the types my sister drags into this damn house.” Nettie rolled her eyes. “Come have a bath and sleep. Wherever Raina is leading you, I doubt they’ll have water as clean as I do, let alone warmed for a bath.”

  “You have clean water?” Nola asked, moving quickly to match Nettie’s stride out of the living room. She hadn’t noticed the fine blue wallpaper when they had been in the hall a few moments before, or the big wooden staircase that led to the upper level.

  “Not clean by dome standards.” Nettie shrugged. “But nothing really is. And aren’t impurities what make life worth living?” She took another sip of her drink before heading up the stairs. “I’m going to put you all in one room, and, no offense, I’m locking you in. You seem quite nice, but I have met too many of my sister’s compatriots to be able to go back to sleep knowing any of them are wandering the halls.”

  “We understand,” Nola said. “Thank you for letting us stay.”

  “How gracious of me, I know,” Nettie said. “I’ll send a touch of food, and the water is drinkable. Try not to get blood on anything.”

  Nettie swung open the door to a bedroom. T went in first, whistling at the sight of whatever waited inside, Beauford followed after her, but Nola didn’t want to let Nettie leave. “You said she’s your big sister. Raina, I mean.”

  Nettie took another drink from her glass. “Yes, little Domer covered in blood, she was my big sister.”

  T’s voice came from within the room. “Can I go first? Do you mind if I go first?”

  “But she’s, I mean you’re—” Nola fumbled for the words.

  “Older?” Nettie laughed. “Grayer, smaller, and a bit more sane? Yes, that I am.”

  “How?” But the answer had already formed in Nola’s mind. “Vamp. It’s the Vamp. It stops you from aging?”

  “They don’t tell you anything locked behind the glass, do they? You do age once you’ve turned to Vamp. Only much more slowly. My sister decided to hide in the darkness a long time ago, and so she’s stuck living in the night. A long life without sunrises. It’s the blessing and the curse of the damned stuff. And why they can’t give it to children. Their bodies need to grow but the Vamp won’t let them. So child zombies wander until they rot. Charming, isn’t it? A life that won’t allow living.”

  “But if it saves people from dying,” Nola said, “doesn’t that make it worth it? I mean, not for zombie babies, but for adults. Doesn’t the choice come down to vampire or death?”

  “For most.” Nettie shrugged. “And most definitely for you. But some can skate by living under the ever-killing sun. Forgive me, bloody girl, a few sips of this amazing stuff and I become quite philosophical.” She waved Nola toward the open doorway. “Go sleep. I doubt anyone will kill you before it’s time to wake up. But for the love of all that survives in this cruel, dark world, please wash your face, child.”

  She shoved Nola into the room, and a moment later a heavy lock thunked behind her.

  Chapter Thirty

  Nola stood by the locked door, unable to move. The bedroom was different than anything she had ever seen before. It looked like something out of an old novel. A canopy of deep red fabric hung over a four-poster bed, which was wide enough for three people to sleep comfortably in and had a fluffy quilt that perfectly matched the canopy. A fainting couch covered in gold fabric sat at the foot of the bed.

  Thick carpeting, so beautiful Nola felt terrible standing on it, covered the floor. And T’s voice drifted from the back of the room as she hummed to herself over the sound of running water.

  “It’s”—Beauford chewed his bottom lip—“something, isn’t it?”

  “We don’t have things like this in the domes.” Nola unlaced her boots, leaving them by the door. “I mean, I know we have a lot, but this”—she ran her fingers over the quilt—“this is amazing. I didn’t think things like this existed anymore.”

  “They do.” Beauford sat on the fainting couch. “The world didn’t end when the domes sealed their walls. At least not entirely. Millions and millions of people have died. More than that have turned to things like Vamp and Lycan to save themselves. But some people profit from death. Some can afford those who call themselves doctors. They’ll be the last to go. Or the next. It all depends.”

  “Depends on what?” she asked, silently sliding the pack off her back and carefully unzipping it.

  “Who takes over first.” Beauford stared down at his hands. “The domes will let the rich ones out here live because they aren’t hurting the domes. They don’t need help. They don’t want trouble. They are above and below the domes’ notice all at once.”

  Nola pulled the tub of thick blue goo out of her pack.

  “But the vampires hate the ones who have managed to survive in comfort on the outside without turning to Vamp. The ones who can afford water purifiers and gardened food. They hate them for proving Vamp isn’t the only way to live. So, if the vampires or the wolves manage to take power, Bellevue and the last of the outside luxury are gone.”

  “But the wolves have already won.” She knelt on the couch next to Beauford. His sleeve was fairly intact, but the wound on his arm showed through. “The Outer Guard won’t stop them, so why aren’t they here?”

  She rolled up Beauford’s sleeve, expecting with every movement that he would push her away and shout that he didn’t need help. But he only watched as she scooped blue goo from the jar and dabbed it onto his arm.

  “Because the wolves haven’t won. Not really,” Beauford said. “The Outer Guard could come across the river and kill them. The vampires in the city could band together and rise up, and worst of all Nightland co
uld return and demand their city back.”

  “But wouldn’t it make sense to take care of Bellevue while they have the chance?” Nola screwed the top of the tub back into place. “Then they can tick one thing off their to-kill list.”

  “Do you want them to come kill us?” Beauford asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Bellevue is here. It’ll always be here. A constant target that would be too risky to take until they know they don’t need their muscle in other places. Bellevue doesn’t hurt anyone, it just…is. A tiny prickle in the side to remind the poor people others survived.” He rolled his sleeve back down, covering the skin Nola had tended to.

  “It seems to me that would be more dangerous than anything else. The idea that there can be peaceful life in the light.”

  “That’s the difference between Domers and outsiders.” Beauford shook his head, and his shaggy hair covered his eyes. “Domers can argue about thoughts and meaning and ideas. Out here it’s about what the food source is and who controls it and who has the medicine you need to get patched up. They’ll come for the rich as soon as they have the city. Take the food and the medicine and every last thing they own. They’ll fight to the last man just for the joy of seeing them fall.”

  “I can’t—” Nola shut her eyes tight as she zipped her mother’s backpack shut. “It’s…it’s hard for me to believe how much I didn’t know. It’ll probably get me killed first, right? Like the rich people.”

  “First.” Beauford smiled grimly, his lips pulling into a tight line. “Or last. The domes prepared you to outlive us all, not to actually survive.”

  “But she can’t die first.” T stood in the doorway to the bathroom, wrapped in a white towel that made her look younger than ever. “Catlyn already did that. So, you’ll just have to die last, Nola.” Her words hung in the air for a moment. “The bathroom is all yours, and the soap smells better than flowers.”

  “Thanks,” Nola said. “Just promise you won’t be gone when I get out?”

  “Don’t worry,” T said. “We’re locked in.”

 

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