I Dare You to Break Curfew

by Eva Muñoz

  The blood pool beneath Troyan grew so large, I wondered if he had any left inside.

  “Just twenty more lashes,” Perrin said.

  “Blood.” My throat felt drier than autumn leaves. I trembled, exhausted. “There’s so much blood.”

  “I know,” she said. “But he’s still alive.”

  I shook my head in complete desolation. My hearing had returned to normal. I could no longer pick out Troyan’s heartbeat the way I used to. “How can you be so sure?”

  Her gaze fell. “I’m not. I can only hope.”

  If only my heart could beat for the both of us. Staring at the ocean of blue blood spreading beneath him made it hard to continue hoping. I wanted to cry out, “Troyan, open your eyes!” But my tongue refused to move.

  The final lash became the longest few seconds of my life. I wanted to yell at the Bogatyr to get on with it. I wanted to beat up the Bogatyr. I wanted to strangle Vladimir. I wanted many things, but all those thoughts stopped the moment the last whapack bounced off the walls.

  Zaire ran to Troyan.

  “Get him down—now!” he ordered.

  He slipped but managed to regain his balance before he fell. The bottom of his robes turned a vivid shade of violet as the fabric soaked up his cousin’s blood.

  Four Vityas crowded around them, treading carefully on the slick floor. His other guards left and returned with a stretcher. Two replaced the Bogatyrs holding the ropes, slowly lowering Troyan. The other two freed his wrists while Zaire bore his weight. Then they carried him onto the stretcher, his decimated back facing up.

  Troyan groaned and my heart stopped. My legs collapsed underneath me. My palms lay flat on the freezing stone surface. Perrin encouraged me to stand, but I kept staring at the floor. He was alive.

  “Not so fast, Effendi Demarcus,” Vladimir said.

  Zaire said, “For all that we believe is holy, do not come near him or else—”

  “Yes, Effendi.” Vladimir paused. “May I inquire as to where you’re taking Effendi Troyan?”

  “My home, Imperator. With your permission, Braylin Majesty.” Zaire’s tone froze anything in its path. Darius nodded once. Then Zaire said to Vladimir, “You have taken your one hundred lashes. Now, I will take my cousin to recover. Someone look for Effendi Gaige and apprise him of what has happened here. Gaige will want to tend to his brother.”

  “What about—”

  “You will get your Sword Dance tomorrow, Imperator. Now, let us leave this room in peace.”

  Leave. They were leaving? Without me? I needed to go with them. My legs refused to carry my weight as I struggled to stand.

  Perrin poked my shoulder. “Camron, if you can’t get up on your own, I’ll be forced to carry you,” she said. “At the risk of sounding prissy, I don’t want to rip the lacing of my dress, so get up. We have to go!”

  Somehow—the details of how escaped me—I stood on shaky legs and followed the retreating party that accompanied Troyan.

  All the gory movies in the world could never prepare anyone for the actual thing. Only by the force of my remaining will was I able to make it to the weapons room without hurling. The last thing I needed was complete access to sharp weapons when a vendetta simmered in my mind.

  “Why aren’t you bringing him to a bedroom?” I asked.

  “The best place to operate is on a flat surface, and the only tables sturdy enough to support Troyan are in this room,” Zaire explained as he cleared the table closest to the double doors by shoving everything on top of it onto the floor in a clatter of chainmail and a heap of gloves. He instructed the Vityas to gently place their unconscious load facedown on its surface. “Gaige’s lab along with the Medical Wing is currently crawling with Traditionalists because of the inquest. It’s not safe there.”

  Troyan’s groan made my stomach flip. He was in pain. I wanted to move, I wanted to do something other than stand there, but I didn’t know how I could help. The skin on his back resembled blue ground meat. I gagged. The slashes overlapped so much that I couldn’t differentiate between them. To say he looked bad only mocked the situation.

  Gaige and a team of assistants in matching lab coats—carrying bags of equipment—arrived just as Zaire barked out new instructions. Perrin went off to gather towels. A few Vityas picked up the mess Zaire had made. And I stood frozen in a corner.

  Gaige took in the scene and said, “I want this room cleared of unnecessary personnel and sterilized before we begin.”

  Zaire ordered the Vityas to drop whatever they were doing and leave the room. The soldiers filed out without protest. Soon, only Gaige, his assistants, Zaire, and I remained.

  “Gaige, I want to stay,” I said.

  “If you can handle hearing Troyan scream, then fine.” He glared at me, then returned his attention to his assistants as they frantically built a clear plastic tent around the table.

  Zaire came to my side and placed a hand on my shoulder.

  “Don’t!” I stepped away from his touch.

  “It might be best if you leave,” he said.

  “I want to stay.”

  “There’s nothing you can do here.”

  “I caused this. If I hadn’t told Beatrix that I bit him, he wouldn’t be lying on that table.” I wrapped my arms around myself and clutched my arms until my nails dug into my skin. “And if you say it isn’t my fault, I swear—”

  “But you aren’t at fault here.”

  “I should’ve known this would happen!”

  “How could you? He should have stopped you, but he didn’t. Troyan knew what he was getting into by letting you mark him.”

  “Camron,” Troyan moaned.

  Without thinking, I ran to him, almost colliding with the Inshari hooking an IV into his arm. I kneeled in front of Troyan and cupped his face with shaking hands.

  “I’m here, Troyan, I’m here,” I said.

  He opened one eye. “How bad do I look?”

  “You have time to joke around even when you’re bleeding to death? You’ve got to be kidding me!” Before relief could blossom in my chest, I noticed Troyan’s skin shrivel. “Gaige!”

  He rushed to my side, examining Troyan’s arm that now resembled a loofah. “His shot is wearing off. The healing he needed during the whipping seemed to have aggravated the disease.”

  “Gaige, what’s happening to him?” Zaire asked.

  I had forgotten Zaire. I quickly whispered to Gaige, “Help him. Please.”

  He frowned. “Hurry.”

  I stood up and approached Zaire, putting a wobble in my step. He caught me before I faked a fall, blocking his view of Troyan’s rapidly desiccating body. I clutched Zaire’s arms and looked at him, beseeching.

  “I’m not feeling well. Can you bring me to my room?”

  He searched my face for a second, then nodded. He wrapped his arm around me to support my weight. Outside the makeshift operating room, Zaire picked me up and carried me the rest of the way, his robes flowing around us like red wings with purple tips. He nudged open the door to my room with his shoulder, strode in, and placed me on the bed. He pulled the covers over my body and sat next to me.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, cupping my cheek.

  A creeping blush heated my face at his tender touch. Guilt suffused my chest. I had to force myself to speak coherently.

  “I’m fine now,” I said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Really, I’m fine.” I squeezed his hand. “I’m a little hungry, though,” I lied.

  He didn’t want to leave me. I saw it in the tightening of his lips. But his quick glance at the door showed his unease. He worried for Troyan as much, maybe even more, than I did.

  He turned back to me, his brows knotted. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Just get some yusha in me and I’ll be fine,” I assured him with a smile.

  Skeptical, he stared at me a long moment before he finally stood. “I’ll send Perrin with lunch.”

  “Thank you
, Zaire,” I whispered as he stepped out of the room.

  As soon as the door closed behind him, I counted to ten, then leaped off the bed and succumbed to pacing. I never paced, but I had too much energy to stay prone. I strode to the door, turned around, and marched to the french windows. Before long, I had worn a path in the carpet. I hated not being part of the action. I hated feeling so helpless.

  “Will you be pacing while having lunch?” Perrin asked, her sudden presence a surprise.

  “I didn’t hear you come in.” I clutched my chest, breathing heavily.

  “You were too busy clomping around to notice.” She set the tray on the table at the corner.

  “Any news?”

  “From the sound he’s making, he’s still alive.”

  “The sound?”

  “Why not wait for Gaige?”

  “Tell me!”

  Her jaw tightened. “The screams. Troyan’s screams.”

  My body sagged into a chair as my nervous energy dissipated. I buried my head in my hands and moaned.

  “See?” she said. “I told you to wait for Gaige. Blaming yourself isn’t healthy, Camron.”

  I sighed. “Too late.”

  “Fine, whatever. Blame yourself.”

  After an hour of worrying, the door opened, and I jumped to my feet. Gaige staggered in. He closed the door and leaned against it, head bowed, resting his chin on his chest. His hair stood on end, the collar of his lab coat askew.

  “How did it go?” I asked.

  He lifted a finger. “Let me breathe for a second. I didn’t expect that patching him up would take half my soul with it.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  Gaige lifted his head and gave me a blistering glare. “You try scraping away dead skin and applying a skin graft to your own brother while he’s screaming and let’s see if you want to talk about it.”

  I ignored Gaige’s sarcasm. “You have to tell me how he is.”

  “Damn it! This is because of you!” He grabbed the front of my shirt. “How could you!”

  I blinked at him, speechless. Never had I thought of Gaige capable of being livid. He was so chill most of the time.

  Gritting his teeth, Gaige let me go and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. “Do I have to spell it out for you? I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “I didn’t know Beatrix would go running to her guardian or whatever Vladimir is to her.”

  “You should’ve told me you bit him when I asked you.”

  My shoulders dropped. “Troyan didn’t want me to tell you.”

  Gaige stepped back. His gaze fell as he combed a hand through his hair again. “I made a mess of things.”

  “Ditto.” I hugged myself. “So, how is he?”

  “Recovering.”

  One word. One word that erased all my previous worry. Troyan would live. No matter how screwed up the situation was, he would live.

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Confessions

  WITH TROYAN still healing from the operation, I decided to take a shower, letting the hot water wash away the tension in my muscles, before I went to see him. My mind calmed. The rush of adrenaline ebbed.

  As I finished dressing in the jeans and T-shirt Perrin had left for me, I heard a loud crash, followed by a door slamming shut, then Gaige’s voice muttering to himself.

  I came out of the bathroom and gaped. In the time it had taken for me to finish my shower, Gaige had transformed the room of frills into a minilab. Which meant more tests for me. Beeping equipment stood in one corner. A microscope along with test tubes sat on the table. I squinted, noticing the teapot, which lay in a sad broken pile that no super glue could put back together.

  I looked at Gaige. “What happened to you? Where’s Perrin?”

  He rubbed a red welt on his cheek. “She threw the teapot at me and stormed off.”

  “Knowing you, I’m sure you deserved it.”

  “What do you mean I deserved it?”

  “Gaige, the only reason you’re still alive is because you’re useful.”

  “I resent that!”

  “Admit it. When it comes to your precious experiments, nothing else matters.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I sighed. “Do I have to spell it out for you? I thought you were smarter than that.”

  The answering growl said he didn’t appreciate having his words thrown back at him. I laughed.

  “You’re selfish when it comes to needing results,” I said. “And it’s because of those results that you’re still alive.” I rubbed a towel over my wet hair and looked at Gaige, who stared into space. Could he actually be more emotionally stunted than all of us combined?

  “Why was Troyan screaming during the procedure? Didn’t you use anesthetic?” I asked.

  He snapped out of his daze. “Sedation wasn’t an option. For the skin grafts to adhere, he needed to be awake.” He massaged his eyelids with his thumb and index finger. “With the booster shot, healing is faster when the subject is lucid. If he wants to be able to perform the Sword Dance tomorrow, he needs to stay conscious all night to heal enough. Damn Zaire for even suggesting it.”

  I winced. “I don’t think he had a choice. Vladimir was out for blood.”

  Gaige said something under his breath in their language, which sounded like rocks rubbing together.

  “What did you just say?” I slipped on the sneakers Perrin had left for me by the bed.

  “Believe me, you don’t want to know.” He looked at me, considering.

  “What?” I was self-conscious.

  Then he shook his head. “I still can’t believe he allowed you to bite him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Remember when I asked you if you tried to take a bite out of Troyan and you said no? Thanks for lying about that, by the way.”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Troyan didn’t want me to tell you. I don’t know why he wanted to keep it a secret.”

  He rubbed his chin. “I assumed that since I injected you with the formula you’d wake up driven by the hunger caused by the id. You would have taken a bite out of anyone in that room. It could have been anyone. What baffles me is why Troyan let you bite him, knowing the consequences of that action.”

  My skin chilled as if a sudden draft flew through the room. “Are you saying it’s coincidence that I bit him?”

  He nodded. “But the connection you have with him because of that bite is real.”

  “If the connection is real, then why did I still feel attraction for Zaire after biting Troyan?”

  Gaige blinked. “That’s new. Normally, once a connection is forged, you’re devoted to one another. Feeling attraction for another shouldn’t be a factor. Maybe it has something to do with your body still being fundamentally human. Do you still feel attracted to Zaire?”

  I thought about it for a second. I shook my head. “Not since I woke up in the Medical Wing.”

  “Do you feel lust when you are near Troyan?”

  “Excuse me?” I spat out.

  “I’m asking this for purely scientific reasons.”

  “Sure, you are.”

  “Just answer the question, Camron.”

  My skin went from chilled to warm in a split second, especially the back of my neck. I stared at the carpet when I nodded an affirmative.

  “Do you feel drawn to his presence?” he asked.

  Again, I nodded.

  “Do you feel euphoric when you touch? I assume you’ve kissed. It’s impossible not to. It’s like defying gravity.”

  “Assume all you want.”

  “Do you feel the need to copulate with him?”

  “Whoa! None of your business!”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” His face lit up. “This is totally an unexpected result. I didn’t think a connection could be formed this way. But from your answers… this is brilliant! Just brilliant! Your attraction to Zaire was just a glitch caused by your overactive hormones. What you have with Troyan is more real.”<
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  Then, as if the bubble of his elation had burst, Gaige sobered. His gaze traveled the room, resting briefly on his equipment before landing on me again. That sense of foreboding I’d been feeling since I’d found out about the disease had returned.

  “What is it, Gaige?”

  “Shall we begin the tests?” he said.

  “Seriously? Do we have to?”

  He answered my whine by pointing at the chair beside his.

  Hours later, groggy and grumpy, I continued to endure Gaige’s tests. He drew my blood, made me dip my fingers in several solutions that stank like rotting meat, and attached me to a heart monitor. He was quiet the entire time. I tried making conversation, but he refused to engage. I gave up after he detached me from the monitor. He then took a slide with a drop of my blood and examined it under his microscope. He sat up and faced me as I sat cross-legged on the bed.

  “I’m sorry, Camron,” he said. “I really am.”

  I cocked my head to the side and asked, “What’s with the sudden apology?”

  “You’re dying.”

  His words jolted me out of my calm. “What? Wait! What?”

  “The formula is slowly eating you.” Gaige glanced at a tablet with notes scribbled on it. “It seems the reason for your bleeding has to do with the formula consuming the parts of you that remain human.”

  “You’re joking, right?” I couldn’t breathe. It felt like a bear sat on my chest.

  “I’m afraid not,” he said.

  “Then get it out of me,” I yelled. “Get it out! Get it out!”

  “Camron.” He stood up and put his hands on my shoulders. “You need to calm down.”

  “How can you ask me to calm down when you just said I’m dying? I thought you said there was no permanent damage when I woke up from puking all that blood.”

  “I didn’t know at the time what the formula was doing to your system. I only started seeing signs of degeneration when I tested you at the lab. I thought another dose of the booster would stabilize the formula. But you bled out again. And when I tested your blood a second time….”