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Thirst for Vampire (Kingdom of Blood and Ash Book 2)

Page 30

by D. S. Murphy

“If I can inject my father,” Damien said, “it may weaken him. I don’t know if it’ll limit his compulsion. And we won’t have much time, but we have to try.”

  “And then what?” I asked. “You and me on the throne, where we’ll continue ruling the citadel? Making sure the compounds make their blood deposits to feed the remaining elite?”

  “At least it’ll be by choice. For real this time, I mean it.”

  “What if that’s not enough? What if the revolution succeeds; what if all the humans want to leave? Will you force them to stay?”

  “Some may choose to remain, under our protection.”

  “But what if there were no compounds, no chosen. Just elite. How will they eat? What will you do when you’re hungry?” I gasped, suddenly picturing us all alone, spending decades together in the deserted, walled-off city. I would be his main food source.

  “It won’t come to that,” Damien frowned. “The compounds offer safety, the purification engines are necessary to grow food, to garden, to have any kind of peace and security. Those are benefits we can still provide.”

  I searched his eyes for answers, but found none. Did Damien know about the ash factory? What would happen if I asked him, or told him? Would he try to stop me?

  “I thought this is what you wanted,” he grumbled. “I’m doing this for you.”

  I frowned at him. That wasn’t the right reason, at all. He was giving up his father’s hundred-year social experiment, turning on his own kind, for what, for love? This decision was too big to be made like that.

  He was thinking of me, and him. He wasn’t thinking of the thousands of subjects in the compounds, or the humans living in the wild. He was ready to burn it all down because he was angry at his father.

  “I don’t have all the answers Em, we’ll figure it out as we go. But we’ll be together. That is, if you still want that. I came here to tell you that I’m with you. I won’t tell you what you should do. But whatever it is, I trust that it’s right. No matter what, or who, you choose.”

  His expression was tragic and tortured, despite his smooth skin and young face. It made this eyes look haunted, like icy pools of teal water. First my grandfather, and now me.

  After swearing humans off so he wouldn’t be hurt again, now he was risking it all again, risking more pain, for me. It made my heart ache. He kept falling for us, even when it cost him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold him close. Instead I leaned away.

  Did he know that the ash was fake?

  I wanted to ask him. But if I asked him and the answer was yes, I’d never be able to forgive him. And he could tell his father, or try to stop me.

  It wasn’t until that moment that I knew what I was going to do. I just didn’t know how. From the pain in my chest, I knew two things for sure; I was in love with Damien, and I had to betray him.

  Finally I understood how King Richard must have felt. Some decisions don’t get to be processed by a committee. I couldn’t let my feelings for Damien get in the way of what was right. Somehow, I was going to find this ash-furnace, and turn it off.

  Nobody would even believe the truth if I told them, but if they saw the clear sky for themselves; if humans reclaimed the daylight and were free to build their own homes in the wild, without paying for it with their blood… well, it was a start. There would be war, and bloodshed, there was no doubt. But we’d have a chance.

  For now, this was a secret I had to keep.

  “What is it?” Damien said, cupping my cheek. He could read me too well. I grabbed his hand and pulled it away. His fingers were cold against my warm palm.

  I didn’t trust myself not to tell him everything, even though I wanted to. I had to get rid of him. There was still one truth I could give him.

  “I went to Fanno Creek,” I said. “I saw your old house, what was left of it.”

  Damien recoiled like I’d struck him. The movement startled me, I’d forgotten how fast he could be. How rigidly he must have to control himself.

  “We thought maybe, we’d find the cure, or some notes. Something that would let us finish the antidote. We figured it would be less guarded than the citadel.”

  “That’s true at least, though it was still dangerous to travel all that way yourself.”

  “There’s something I have to tell you, something, big. You’d better sit down.”

  “I am sitting,” he said, leaning back further against the log and folding his hands together in his lap. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

  “Your mother, she’s… she’s still alive.”

  Damien’s eyes snapped open, searching my face. His expression was hopeful, and for just a moment I could picture the innocent teenager he’d once been. Then his features hardened, into the stern, impenetrable mask of the elite.

  “That’s impossible,” he said. “We buried her. I spoke at her funeral. I picked out the flowers for her grave.”

  “Well I spoke to her, yesterday,” I snapped.

  He stood up with a flash of violence, leaning over me in an instant, his fingers trembling.

  “She’s trapped, locked up in some kind of cage in your basement.”

  “You left her there?” he asked quietly.

  “I had to. She was dangerous. Powerful. We barely escaped. But I promised I’d find you, and tell you, or come back myself.”

  “No, you don’t have to. I should be the one to do it.”

  He bowed his head, resting his face in his hands.

  “All these years, I thought it was my fault. That we’d gone on the run because of what I’d done at school. We left suddenly, spent the last few weeks staying at fancy hotels, then guarded security camps, as everything burned down around us. I never asked, I didn’t go back. I should have.”

  “So what’s this mean, for us?” I asked, after a long pause. Is there an us?

  “I… I have to go,” he said. “I told my father I was off to join Tobias hunt for you. I’m pretty sure he didn’t believe me.”

  “I understand,” I said, leaning closer and laying my cheek against his shoulder.

  “But once she’s safe, I swear I’ll help you kill him. Whatever it takes. Some sins, can’t be forgiven.”

  27

  I came back into the camp alone, my arms wrapped around my shoulders.

  Amber was waiting for me near the gate, talking with a few of the younger girls from the shire.

  She linked arms in mine. I didn’t feel like talking, and she didn’t press at first, we just ambled in a slow loop around the perimeter, behind the tents and buildings. It was strange to be in a compound without the purification engines. The trees blocked a lot of the ash but it still fell, thin flakes that blanketed everything in a gray carpet. I knew it would poison the water or vegetables or anything that wasn’t covered. This was a refugee camp, not a home.

  I had a tension headache in my neck and shoulders, probably from the alcohol, and my bare feet tingled. I felt tired and dirty. Last night had ended up as a blur, and while I didn’t regret it, exactly, I hadn’t expected Damien to show up either.

  “I brought you something,” Amber said finally, loosening her cape and pulling out the long bow strapped to her back. It had been wrapped in leather to prevent damage, but I recognized it immediately.

  “Dad’s bow,” I said, rubbing my fingers against the worn wood and plucking at the string.

  “I don’t know what kind of condition it’s in,” Amber said. “But when Damien told me we were coming to find you, I knew I had to grab it.”

  “Thank you,” I said. Emotion filled my heart and my lip quivered. Dad died years ago, when I was just a kid. He’d never taught me how to use it, not really. I had to figure that out by myself. But he had taken me with him sometimes. He’d taught me how to stay quiet, how to track prey.

  And he was clever; more than once I saw him waiting near the edge of the compound fence, he’d sprinkle carrot shavings through the wires and wait for a rabbit to
approach, then shoot it through the fence with a barbed arrow tied to a string. Mom would trade the meat for potatoes and onions and make a stew with the rest of its carcass.

  “What happened to her?” I asked, pulling the bow across my shoulders. “I mean with the body… did she get a proper burial at least?”

  Amber frowned, chewing her lip.

  “The king forbade a burial in the compound ceremony, said it was a privilege, not a right. Guards strung the rebels up outside the gates, left to the elements and predators.”

  “Of course they did,” I said, clenching my fists.

  “But we had a service for them, and for her. Inside the compound. Even the curates attended and said some words, though it was forbidden. We sang, held candles. It was nice.”

  “I wish I could have been there. I never even got to say goodbye.”

  “You can mourn her now,” Amber said.

  “I can’t,” I said. “It wouldn’t be right, while the king is still in power, while the elite rule. Nothing has changed. It would just be words and empty promises. I’ll grieve when Nigel is dead, and everyone like him.”

  “Why does that have to be your responsibility?” Amber asked.

  “It’s not,” I said. “It’s my choice.”

  “We’re never going back, are we?” Amber said quietly.

  “Maybe one day,” I said, not sure if I believed it.

  Damien had rescued Amber because he knew she was important to me. That meant he was afraid for the compounds. Even if we managed to take out his father; even if we led a successful revolution and called for social change and progress, he knew the compounds were vulnerable. If the other elite rebelled against him; if the royal guards refused to legitimize his rule. One way or another there would be anarchy and chaos. He’d saved Amber because he thought she would be safer out here, at the edges of civilization, with the wildlings.

  I knew he was trying to do the right thing, but he’d only saved one human. Did he even think about all those who we’d left behind, or did he consider them expendable? I wasn’t eager to betray Damien, my once-fiancé turned… I didn’t even know what we were to each other now. I’d kept myself pure for a faceless ritual, promised my body to a covenant I’d been raised to believe in; the only means of survival for my race. I’d tried to be a good citizen. What had gone wrong? Where had I fallen off the path?

  Cooper found us near the cabin and dropped a stick at my feet, wagging his tail. I tossed it for him a few times, sitting on a stump near a smoking fire.

  I’d thought the king was just eccentric when he’d shown me his cave of death; but now I realized what he saw in me. There was a reason Damien had never chosen a mate. It was his way of opting out of his father system. Not open rebellion or refusal, just... unconformity. Refusing to be happy, to take part. It was its own form of cowardice I supposed, though I understood why he did it.

  After getting close to John Patten, my grandfather, that one human relationship betrayed him, stole his father’s unfinished formula, and cost him everything. A whole community of corpses on his conscience. Algrave had 2500 citizens. Would they be on my conscience, like Quandom’s weighed on Damien? Thousands of restless souls, the unbearable guilt?

  They might be, if I did this. I’d never wanted to join the rebels. I’d tried living in the system, when I thought it was my only option. I’d trained and practiced their customs; I’d competed in the trials to prove my worth; even after my mother had been killed, my family taken, and I was locked up as a traitor and a criminal. Sure, I’d looked plenty guilty, half-naked with Damien and an illegal firearm.

  How could it have ended differently, even if it was a misunderstanding. Even if I’d been ready to give Damien everything. The entire system was broken, without trust and mutual respect, we were all slaves.

  But now I knew the truth. Somewhere, over the horizon, past the mountains, there was a place where the sun was still shining; where elite hid from its heated rays. Perhaps there was a place where Trevor and I could live free, outside of the elite influence. With no covenant, no blood pacts. No elixir. We’d get old, sick, die together. I’d seen it was possible. I just wasn’t sure if I wanted it.

  I knew I’d be running away; leaving my siblings behind because I wasn’t brave enough to save them. Leaving tens of thousands of humans living in denial and captivity; the illusion of freedom, based on a terrible lie.

  I hadn’t chosen to be the bearer of this knowledge, but now that I was in possession of it, it was tearing me up from the inside out. Every smile, every interaction... every word I spoke that wasn’t the truth felt like a deception.

  I didn’t know what happened next, only that I didn’t have much time. Damien may have thought he was ready to join the revolution and overthrow his own father before, but would he still? If it meant war and uncertainty, when he’d just gotten his mother back?

  Before, he’d chosen me, over his father. Kind of. But there was no world where Damien and I lived happily ever after. And if he wasn’t with me, he was against me.

  Now I had to decide who I could trust with this one, final mission, to pull back the curtain. Had my grandfather ever known the full truth, had anyone? I had a feeling this secret had been buried for a century, since the beginning.

  I spent most of my life waiting to be chosen. Now that the responsibility of choosing was my own burden, I realized I wasn’t sure I wanted it, what I wanted.

  I retreated into the cabin, gathering my supplies and staring at the rough maps I’d spread out on the table. Outside, the small settlement was sleepy and quiet.

  I wished Marcus was here. I’d never been especially religious, but somehow Marcus had become something like a spiritual advisor. I wanted to ask him what to do, what the right choice to make was.

  April was setting up her scientific equipment. According to Damien, our cure had kind of worked after all, though we had no idea why. We needed to test more samples, more variables.

  Tobias and Penelope were saying a rather long goodbye outside the gates. He had to return to avoid suspicion and she couldn’t go with him. Not yet. Not until the king was dead and Damien was in charge.

  I was about to blow that plan out of the water.

  A few minutes later, Jacob arrived. He lifted his eyebrows at me, then nodded towards the maps.

  “Looking for something?” he asked.

  “What’s the furthest you’ve ever been from the citadel?” I asked.

  “Past the compounds? There’s not much out there, wild lands, raiders, monsters and maniacs. Not good for much besides scavenging, but too dangerous for most.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to remember the compounds I’d visited.

  “Is the ash, worse anywhere?” I asked.

  “Why would the ash be worse?” he asked.

  “Nevermind,” I said quickly. “It’s stupid.”

  “There was a guy once, he told me about his travels. Said he got near these mountains, here,” he said, pointing at the top right, near the edge of the map. “Flakes as big as his palm, practically raining fire. So hot, all the ponds and streams boil over with dead fish. Smelled like sulfur, hell on earth. He was pretty drunk, so we figured he was just blabbing.”

  “But isn’t there a compound out there?”

  “Skormhead,” he said, pointing to a dot on the map, which I circled with red pen. “Built into the rock like a fort. Never did understand why King Richard built a compound in conditions like that.”

  I nodded, staring at the map.

  “How about your elite visitors,” Jacob pressed, after a few moments. “Will they fight for us?”

  “Even if they do, it won’t change anything.”

  “It could help win the battle.”

  “There’s not going to be a battle,” I said.

  “Well, that’s news to everyone here,” Jacob said crossing his arms. “What should I tell the men?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly. “You
can’t tell anyone, not yet. For now, stay here, stay safe. I have a favor to ask though, I need you to look out for Penelope. Someone has to have her back, especially, with what’s coming.”

  “I can’t guarantee that,” Jacob said.

  “She’s no threat if she’s fed. But if need be, lock her up again if you feel you have to, to keep the humans safe. Just, make sure it’s inside, hidden from the sky.”

  He nodded thoughtfully.

  “Something tells me you’re planning something foolish. How will we know if you’ve succeeded?”

  “You’ll know,” I risked a small smile. “Trust me, you’ll know.”

  “Well in that case, it’s been an honor knowing you, Emily Sharrow.”

  I squinted again at the map on the table, marking the location on my rudimentary map. Then I quietly gathered my supplies and bags. I had a compass. I took my vial of elixir. I stopped at the blacksmith area to reclaim the knife Trevor had sharpened and oiled for me, and I used the tools to tune up the string of my bow. The last time I’d used a bow, it had been at standing targets for a prize, in the citadel. A game.

  Something told me my targets wouldn’t stand still this time, and the prize was everything.

  I knew I should say goodbye to Amber, but she’d never let me go off alone, and the others would try and stop me. I thought about leaving a note or a gift, but I couldn’t risk it. This was a journey I had to take alone.

  I just had to get outside of the gates, through the smoke and ash, without being seen. At least a dozen archers were on platforms built above the wooden pikes, in trees surrounding the compound. But I was fast, and I knew how to be quiet.

  I pulled the bag tighter against my shoulder, squaring my father’s bow over my shoulders. I grabbed a dozen steel-tipped arrows from a weapons rack inside the gates and stuffed them into my quiver. I wouldn’t have time to make more, and these would do more damage anyway.

  “So what,” Trevor said, coming up behind me as I studied the defenses. “One night of passion and you’re ditching me?”

  “This isn’t about you,” I said.

 

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