Chapter 3

CHAPTER3

Ican’t stop myself from shaking.

It’s so fucking embarrassing. Seriously.

I’m a five-fucking-thousand-year-old vampire who has lived through all manner of horrors over the centuries, and I’m trembling at the sight of a frail old man with a needle in his hand.

At least the little bald scientist doesn’t look any more comfortable with our current situation than I do. His Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow that makes my own throat burn with hunger. The butterfly needle quivers in his expert grip. Gallus watches off to the side with a bored expression, the thick, heavy muscles of his arms bulging as he folds them across his broad chest. I glare at the sweeping lines of his tattoos flowing beneath his rolled-up sleeves. He’s not even close to me and yet I’m terrified. He doesn’t need to touch me. He doesn’t even need to be in the room.

It’s this table. This place. These silver shackles locked across my wrists and ankles. It’s this endless cycle, day after day after fucking day.

I don’t know how long it’s been now. Maybe twenty days? Thirty? My infallible vampire memory was definitely fucking fallible in the first few days of my imprisonment. The hours blended into one another, a seemingly endless loop of vomiting and seizing and sweating and shaking. But in the days since, as my condition has evened out to a more consistent level of pain and despair, I’ve memorized every detail of this place.

There’s a silver table where Gallus stores his tools. It shines with a brighter spot near the left edge where there’s a dent that captures the light of the overhead lamp.

There’s the ridge of stone that is darker than the others on the wall that faces me. It’s the shadow I focus on. In the worst moments, I imagine it can swallow my pain as Gallus takes his hammer to my bones or his scalpel to my flesh.

The smell of antiseptic. Sometimes I make stories to entertain myself about how he got it. I imagine Gallus passing into the Living Realm, waiting at a pharmacy counter to pay for rubbing alcohol as the woman in front of him buys lottery tickets and scratch cards. I imagine him becoming annoyed, yet powerless to stop the human social conventions of waiting in line. I like the idea of him being the powerless one for a change.

I look for anything that will take me away from my body, if even for a moment. As long as it’s not memory. That’s been the only condition I’ve placed upon myself. Why? Because if I was going to survive a broken body in this room, I couldn’t live in a broken heart. In the days that have passed, I’ve only allowed myself that luxury in the cell with Ediye. And it feels like a luxury to wallow in my sorrow. It’s like slipping into a hot bath. It’s like lying beneath the Reaper’s silky sheets, feeling his fingers coast across my skin.

But I can’t keep going on like this anymore. I know they’ll never let me leave. The Reapers won’t give me a swift death here in the Shadow Realm, not after the crime I’ve committed against them. Not if I’m a weapon they can’t fix or figure out. And even if this little Swiss man can do it, I refuse to fight for the Shadow Realm. I’m only prolonging the inevitable when I keep fighting to survive.

So, this time, as the little old scientist pulls the tourniquet tight across my arm and taps my weakened vein with his finger, I let myself fall away into memory. Memory of the Reaper, his hand on my back as he dipped me toward the floor when we danced in Bit Akalum. His palm on my cheek as he looked into my eyes with such sorrow in front of the cafe in Cairo. His kiss as he pressed my back against the wall by his bed.

And every word floods back to me with the images that scroll through my mind.

I’m the one who is left defenseless as you dismantle my walls, stone by stone, he’d said in his room, whispering his words across my skin.

If you’re trapped in the Realm of Light, I will still find you, he’d said as he brushed my cheek with his thumb, his face so beautiful in the lamplight and the passing cars near the Khan Al-Khalili market.

Can you try to place your trust in me? he’d asked as the song faded away and our dance came to an end. And even though I’d only smiled, that’s what I did. I placed my trust in him.

Him.Ashen.

And every word he said was a lie.

I close my eyes and tears roll across my skin.

I don’t feel the prick of the needle. I don’t notice when the tourniquet is removed from my arm. It’s not until I smell my own blood as the surgical steel is withdrawn from my skin that I realize the procedure is already over.

“I need time to analyze the sample,” the little scientist says. I open my eyes, watching as he turns toward Gallus and caps the needle, pocketing the vial of blood in his lab coat.

Gallus heaves a deep grumble that resonates in his chest. “How much time?”

“Four hours. Perhaps less.”

“Do you require anything else to complete the task?”

The scientist pulls his glasses from his face and uses the edge of his shirt to polish the lenses before pushing them back onto his nose. “If it’s not too much trouble, food and coffee would help.”

“This will be arranged,” Gallus says with a single nod.

The two men begin to talk about the logistics of the scientist’s meal.

My eyes slide to the behemoth leaning against the wall.

In their commonplace exchange, they don’t notice something uncommon at all.

The little man has stood too close to a predator.

I curl my fingers around the edge of his sleeve, drawing the fabric into my palm like a spider collecting a web around its prey.

My body can’t take much more punishment. If I destroy a piece of this little man, Gallus might just mete out more suffering than I can endure. If I have enough strength to hold onto him, to maybe reel in his flesh and break his bones, I might finally get what I’m hoping for.

Death.

Neither Gallus nor the scientist notice the stealth of my grip as they speak. They are so easily distracted by their important words, their self-interested thoughts. I close my eyes and try not to smile.

“I will gather what you’ve asked for,” Gallus says. I hear his arms release from across his chest and fall to his sides as he pushes his body from the wall. His footsteps drift toward the door. “Come.”

My heart bursts a furious beat into my throat. This is it. The last moments of life. The love I feel for living, for all these centuries past... it captures my breath. It burns in my chest like a hot knife. And the sharpest blade of all is the love for the man that I lost. I finally let myself have something I wanted, after so many years away from immortal kind, and look where it got me. The betrayal carves hot tears into my skin as I open my eyes.

The scientist seems to hesitate close to the table then tries to step toward the door to follow Gallus. His shirt pulls taut across his arm as I cling to his sleeve. His arm recoils toward mine and I grasp his warm palm in my shackled hand.

My fangs descend and paint my tongue with a thin veneer of venom. The old man lets out a surprised yelp as I meet his eyes with a menacing smile. I squeeze his hand, trapping him in the vice of my fingers.

“Fucksakes,” I hear Gallus growl.

There’s a thud, a muffled cry.

But the sounds come from the other side of the steel door.

I hear the sharp intake of breath as Gallus realizes something is wrong. The singing call of a sword sliding against a scabbard fills the room as he draws his weapon. His footsteps scramble to the door and he rushes from the room.

The heavy door swings shut with a muted thud. I hear fighting in the hall. A clash of metal against metal. My eyes dart to the exit and back to the little man in my grip.

“I’m he-here to ge-get you out,” he stammers, reaching with his shaking free hand into the pocket of his lab coat.

He draws out a key. His eyes flick to my shackles.

I nod. It takes a breath to convince my hand to do so, but I relax my tight grip until I can let go. My throat feels thick with searing heat, as though I swallowed lava. I see the red light within my eyes brighten in the reflection of the old man’s glasses before he turns away and fits the key into the first lock.

The man says nothing as he fumbles with the shackles, his eyes flicking constantly toward the door where the sounds of fighting grow louder. He releases my wrist, then my ankles, then heads back up to my remaining hand. My heart is surging against my bones. My fingers start to tingle as I strain and stretch them within the silver cuff. In my head, I’m screaming at him to hurry up. Needles start pricking at the bone behind my eyes.

Not now. Not now.

I fight my body to keep my nerves at bay. Deep breaths. Calm my heart. Center my chakras or whatever the fuck I’m supposed to do. Whatever it will take to not have a seizure.

The last shackle releases from my wrist and clanks on the steel table. For a heartbeat, the scientist and I look at one another.

If he thought I would thank him, he got the wrong girl.

I erupt from the table and crash into him, knocking us both to the floor. The air rushes from his lungs as his back hits the stone.

“Please, please no,” he whispers as I lean toward his face and smile. “I saved you.”

Maybe so. But I’m not in a merciful mood.

I tear into his neck. He squirms and thrashes against me. Blood rushes down my throat and eases some of the desperate burn that has been my most constant companion all these days caged in the Shadow Realm.

There’s a loud crash of metal against the door and the sound of fighting stops. The voices go silent in the hall. I’m probably still going to die, right here in this room, alongside this human who is quickly growing weak in my grasp. But at least I’ll die with a meal in my belly.

The door flings open.

“Shit,” Cole says, blood sizzling in the flame of his sword. He surveys the scene in front of him and I glance beyond his legs to the hall. There are bodies on the floor. “You weren’t supposed to eat him.”

I shrug, my mouth still clamped around the man’s throat. He lets out a weak cry that vibrates on my lips. Too late now.

Cole’s eyes flicker across my face and around the room then back again. A crease deepens between his brows. He walks toward me and grasps my arm, his touch both firm yet gentle, as though he’s trying to avoid causing more pain. I twist in his grip, my fangs still deep in the little man’s flesh. I’m so desperately hungry. I’m not ready to let go. “Gotta leave, Lu. There’s not much time. Ediye’s waiting.”

Ediye.

I drop the unconscious man. His breath is shallow and his heartbeat slow. Blood trickles down my chin and neck. Cole pulls me to my feet and I grimace in pain. I guess it’s not enough of a meal to fix so many injuries. Things don’t work the way they used to, it seems.

Darkness creeps into Cole’s expression as his gaze bounces between my eyes. I’m getting the sense he’s realizing this rescue mission might be harder than he thought. “Come on,” he says, turning away and pulling me with him toward the door.

The first body in the hall is that of Gallus.

Cole steps over the hulking frame of my torturer, his carcass crumpled against the wall and split wide open, his sword resting in his open palm. Before I can cross over his thick legs, I grab the dagger sheathed at Cole’s side and whip free of his grasp.

I drop to my knees and raise the blade, slamming it down into my dead enemy’s chest. No sooner does the knife crunch through his bones then I’m drawing it away to strike again. My vision vibrates with red rage. I drive it into his lower abdomen. I use both hands to drag the blade up toward his chest in a vertical line, then I plunge one fist into his warm viscera and tear his intestines from his flesh. I shove them into his face and heave a silent scream across his skin. You should know how this feels, I bellow, the sound living only in my head. I punch my bloody fist into his cheek. You should know-

“Lu… Come on Lu. It’s already done,” Cole says, catching my wrist. He squeezes when I try to pull away, but not enough to force the blade from my fingers. I turn to him with a fierce glare, my whole body shaking with fury, but he leans in closer. “Get your revenge by living.”

His words slap me out of my rage.

I bank the embers of wrath and give a shaky nod. Cole hauls me to my feet, my slew of injuries screaming their furious pain at me with every move we make. We hop over slain guards and slip through blood, passing by my empty cell where the door stands ajar, held open by a dead Reaper’s legs. I start to panic thinking about Ediye, but when I cast my frantic gaze ahead she steps from the corner of the corridor and into view.

“Thank the goddess,” she whispers when we stop in front of her. I glance down at her neck. The obsidian chain is gone, only blisters left in its wake. She gives me a lopsided smile and turns to Cole. “It’s all clear so far.”

“It won’t be for long,” Cole says, leaning around the corner to double check our pathway of escape. “Follow me.”

We take a turn to the right and jog down the hallway, twisting through the bowels of the building. There are several dead guards along the way and a few barred gates for which Cole has heavy keys. We arrive at a set of black stairs and run up them by twos. My toes ache, still so open and raw. I don’t have time to dwell on why the fresh blood I drank hasn’t healed them enough to at least keep them scabbed over.

We stop at the last step and Cole checks the adjacent corridor. His arm darts behind him and presses Ediye and I into the wall. I’m wedged between them both. I hear voices in the hall to our left.

My heart is thudding in my chest, ringing its drum into my ears. My fingertips are numb, the tingle flowing up to my wrists. I can’t feel the pain of the empty nail beds anymore. Needles drill hot cores from my eye sockets. My arms and knees start to jerk.

“Cole,” Ediye whispers, her voice urgent. I see her grab his arm and I feel them both cage me into their grip. Cole looks over his shoulder and concern flashes through his eyes. “Seizure.”

“Fuck,” is the last thing I hear before black stars collapse my vision into a pinprick of light that flares and burns out.

When I wake, I’m jostled by a powerful set of arms. Heat cascades through my body. My teeth clatter and my flesh feels numb, like a surge of electricity has seared my muscles until they melted onto my bones. I open my eyes and Cole glances down, that concerned expression firing through his eyes once more. He doesn’t break the cadence of his stride until I tap his arm and he sets me on my feet.

“Okay, Lu?” he asks, his hand wrapped around one arm, Ediye’s around another.

I nod and swallow, my tongue scraping the roof of my mouth. It feels like I’ve been chewing on cotton. Cole’s brow twitches with suspicion and I nod once more before finally turning my gaze to the space around us.

The dais.

The smoke that cascades upward like a waterfall to the height of the towering ceiling.

The shaft of light from the window that sits above the fog of the Shadow Realm.

I remember this room.

It’s empty now, no figures on the dais, no Reapers in the shadows, no souls about to be reborn into another life.

Cole presses his dagger into my hand.

“Almost there,” he whispers, pointing from where we’ve stopped in the shadows at the edge of the room toward a row of cauldrons near the door at the other end of the grand hall. “Ready?”

I nod, even though my legs feel unsteady and my body weak.

“Run.”

My heart surges and we take off from the safety of the pillars that line the room, running as fast as we can go. Cole drops my arm and leads the way, his fiery sword illuminating the shadows and the souls that linger in their dark embrace. Ediye clings to my arm, pulling me forward. My lungs protest, the broken ribs piercing my chest with every ragged breath.

A Reaper guard materializes from a hidden chamber and shouts a warning before Cole cuts him down with his sword. He’s faster and more powerful than any Reaper I’ve seen, even more than Ashen. His grace isn’t bound by this realm. The flaming arc of his blade is the perfect shape of a scythe as it swings from his left and slices through the torso of the guard, spilling hot blood across the floor.

“Don’t stop!” he calls over his shoulder as he jumps over the slain guard. He powers ahead and I know he’s aiming for the torches to light a cauldron that will take us away from this realm.

Another guard bursts from the shadows, landing between us and Cole. Ediye drops my arm and points her palms toward the demon blocking our path.

“Lizazzu salmani sunu,” she says, and the guard is immobilized, only his eyes darting around in confusion as his limbs stiffen like stone.

Ediye glances toward me and smiles as I give her the thumbs up. “Christ that felt good,” she says with a fleeting smile.

We focus on our target ahead. Cole grabs a torch and tosses it into a cauldron midway down the line. The flame roars to life across the black and gold stones. He anchors a foot in the fire and leans toward us, beckoning for us to run faster. Ediye pulls me in her wake, her free arm pumping in rhythm with our bare feet as they slap against the stone.

“Lu!” a voice calls from behind me. It echoes across the pillars and dances in their shadows.

The rich timbre. The deep pitch. The surprise and urgency. It will never cease to amaze me how two letters can communicate so much.

I halt, pulling Ediye to a stop with me. She looks beyond my shoulder with a murderous glare. I pivot a slow turn, my breath trapped in my lungs.

Time grinds to a halt. The only movement in all the Shadow Realm is Ashen’s eyes. They catalog everything in no more than a beat or two of my heart. All the bruises that haunt my skin. The gore that smears my chin. My gaunt cheeks and cracked lips. The dirty, ripped clothes that hang from my bones and the angry slashes of blood where my nails are missing from the hand that grips my blade. The fierce and feral glare that lives in my glowing red eyes.

Ashen’s lips part and his beautiful face is filled with both rage and a flash of something that crashes like a wave on a rocky shore before it’s swept back out to sea. Maybe loss, or regret. I don’t give any more thought to what it might be.

Within one sharp exhalation my hand is empty, my blade lodged to the hilt next to Ashen’s heart.