13. Silas

The punching baggroans and creaks as I pound my fists into it. The chain clatters, threatening to come loose from the metal bolt in the ceiling. But I keep punching it, imagining it's that useless, limp-dicked fuck's face.

Fuck that guy. Fuck him and his limp dick. Fuck him that he gets to touch her and I don't.

The punching bag comes loose from its chain with one last right hook, and goes flying across the gym. I stand there, shoulders heaving, sweat running down my chest. She was in my arms. She wanted me to hold her.

She wanted me.

She wanted me.

I run a hand over my face, gritting my teeth and overcome with frustration. He's touching her right now, he's touching what's… What's…

"Mine," I mutter to myself. I catch sight of myself in the mirror on the wall, chest still heaving, and I want to smash my fucking reflection into next week. "You fucking idiot."

The door to the gym flies open, and I growl over my shoulder.

"Fuck off."

"How come you're in such a charming mood?" Sam is standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.

"Long story." I turn to face her, and she looks me up and down before casting a glance past me at the punching bag that's lying in the corner.

"Well something's gotten you mad," she says, quirking an eyebrow. "Or someone."

"I'm really not in the mood to explain right now, Sam, so if you have something to say, just fucking say it, alright?"

"Fine," she snaps. "You're needed in the office, they found something on the surveillance cameras and they want you to have a look. It would appear someone tampered with the grid." She turns on her heel and storms back out into the night.

I wipe my face and chest down with a towel before pulling a black t-shirt over my head. You stupid fucking idiot. The one time she asks me to hold her, and I'm acting like I own her.

The worst part of it is, I fucking want to. I want her to be mine. I don"t want anyone else touching her. I don't want anyone else to so much as fucking think of her.

I can hear Margot laughing, chiding me, finding my obsessive nature sweet. "You have an addictive personality," she'd say indulgently, stroking my hair. "And addiction to love is no different."

I'm addicted to Juliet, and that one embrace was my first fucking hit.

I snarl as I stalk out into the yard, headed for the office block. I run a hand through my sweat soaked hair as the evening breeze washes over me. The office block is lit up, vamps arguing loudly inside. I push through the door and all eyes turn to me.

"Finally," Anderson says, throwing his hands up. "Come and look at this, King. This doesn't look normal."

I cross the room, the vamps making space for me to pass. Anderson leans back in his chair, gesturing widely to the computer screen. I lean one hand on the desk as Anderson hits play on the surveillance footage.

At first it's just static, and the only movement is the lights flickering.

"What?" I ask after a minute.

Anderson holds up a hand. "Just wait."

As I keep watching, a figure in a black hoodie emerges from the shadows of one of the buildings. The figure runs in a crouch through the lit-up areas, coming to a stop at the edge of the fenceline. They pause, turning to continue.

They stop short and take two hurried steps backwards.

In the next frame they're gone. The timestamp in the corner has jumped 10 minutes.

I shake my head, squinting at the screen. "What the fuck?" I grab the mouse and rewind the footage. But it happens again, the figure is there, obviously startled by something - or someone - and in the next frame, it's like they've disappeared into thin air.

I look down at Anderson, who pinches the bridge of his nose.

"This isn't good, is it?" He asks.

I look across the room at Sam, who's standing in the corner with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You said there was evidence that the grid had been tampered with?"

She nods. "One of the generators was disconnected from the outer wires. The Afflicted would have been able to cross that initial alarm line unnoticed."

I turn to look back at the screen, playing the video twice over. I don't know what I'm expecting. Do I think it'll suddenly change? That the fucking Houdini in the video won't suddenly vanish into thin air?

"Wait a second." I replay the video, leaning close to the screen, looking at the bottom corner. "There." I point. "There's someone there. You can see the top of someone's head."

Everyone leans over my shoulder, watching as the figure stumbles and the curve of a head covered in hair comes into view, before the image flashes back to the empty yard.

"Great, and then they disappear too." Anderson slams an open palm against the table and sucks on his fangs. "This isn't possible, though, is it? Someone's tampered with the security footage."

I straighten up and cross my arms over my chest. "Yeah, someone's deleted a timeframe here, but there'd be evidence of that in the files. You can't delete these frames without there being a trail."

Sam scoffs. "You sure about that?"

"Sure. Whoever did this, they didn't do a good job. Leaving this footage, that's just a rudimentary cut job. They'll have left a trail somewhere."

Anderson rises to his feet and points at me. "You go through those files then and let me know what you find. You know what you're looking for, and we need to know what happened here." He shakes his head. "Why the fuck would anyone want Afflicted to flood the compound?"

"Revolutionaries," Sam says, moving closer to the desk, her hands on her hips. "They want to take out the vamps no matter what. Boston's been having troubles with them. They'll even use a volatile force like the Afflicted, because the end goal is taking all of us out."

I cast a glance over her face, and she shrugs.

"We'll lay new trip lines, I'll help rig them up tomorrow," I say, not sure if even that will be enough. I have to believe it'll help, but this isn't good. If someone inside is working on this… I don't even know where to begin looking. Humans? Who can roam free without a vamp noticing?

I look around the room at my colleagues, and they're either very good actors, or all genuinely freaked the fuck out.

Something bad is coming. I can feel it.

* * *

The sun beatsdown on us as I test the newly laid trip lines. The alarm whirs as one of the other vamps steps on the sensor buried in the ground. Another one walks a little further, and the motion sensor secured to the tree sends a silent alarm to the smart watch on my wrist. The other vamps look down at their wrists, and I know it's tripped the entire alarm system.

I rub a hand along my neck, humidity sending sweat running down my back. The horizon is heavy and black with an approaching storm.

"Braun, the battery banks are full, right?"

Braun looks up from his laptop and nods, rubbing beads of sweat from his top lip with the collar of his shirt. "Sure are."

"Good." I gesture at the gathering storm. "Last thing we need is to get caught in a power outage with a new system laid."

He shakes his head, hissing out a breath. "Fucking humans, getting brazen like that. I mean, where the fuck do they get off, huh?"

I lean back against the tree I'm sitting under and sigh. "Captives tend to revolt, Braun. I'm surprised it took them this long."

"Captives?" Braun laughs out loud. "They have it good! Three meals a day and a warm bed, that's more than I damn well had growing up. You"re too young to remember the Great Depression, well I'm not. These humans would be begging to be in a facility like this back in those days."

"I hardly think that's the same thing." I meet his skeptical gaze. "Or maybe it is, in a way. You were the victim of a greedy government, and these humans are the victims of irresponsible vampires."

"Victims?" Braun lets out a hacking laugh. "Irresponsible? This all happened because vamps wanted to protect the humans, remember? Those experiments were run so we wouldn't need as much blood. They couldn't have known it would go wrong."

"The vamps thought they could outsmart science and created something they couldn't control."

Braun throws his hands up, spittle bursting from his lips as he laughs out loud. "You got this all wrong, King. The vamps who did all this, they're heroes. They tried to make the world a better place."

"You have a funny idea of heroism." I gesture around vaguely with my hand. "This? It's just existing. It's not living."

"And you got a funny idea of living." Braun plucks a stone from the ground and throws it across the grass. "This here, it's heaven. We got everything we need."

"Maybe you should ask the humans if they feel the same way about your supposed heaven."

"You're a philosophical son of a bitch, King."

"Art majors are required to take philosophy," I reply, and instantly feel a little sick that I revealed something personal about myself.

Braun instantly jumps on this tid-bit, leering at me. "An art major, huh? Fancy. Let me guess, you grew up in some country manor out in the countryside, with butlers and maids."

I shift uncomfortably. "No, nothing like that."

"You always did strike me as a rich kid," he says, leaning back on his hands on the grass. "That accent, and the way you look at us all like we smell bad or something."

I roll my eyes, slamming my laptop shut and rising to my feet. "Maybe you just need a shower, mate." I head back to the truck as Braun's laughter follows me.

A country manor. Hardly. My heart wrenches in my chest as memory overcomes me, and I'm thrown back in time to the last day I was ever in my family home, the sweet terrace house in London with the oak tree in the yard. The last time I saw my parents. My mother's tears, my father's face twisted with terror. Telling my siblings to get upstairs, to not come anywhere near me. My little sister crying for me, my brother's ashen face as he'd pulled her up the steps behind him.

I'd begged to be accepted. I'd begged them to see that it was a good thing. That I was a better person. That my life was coming together. I'd stood in my childhood home, and begged the people who were supposed to love me more than anything in the world to just accept who I was now.

You're a monster. You ruin everything. You always have.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. The crew starts to head back in from laying the perimeter wires, packing the supplies back into the trucks. I climb into the driver's seat, throwing the laptop onto the passenger seat. I stare out the windshield at the approaching storm, and my mind drifts to Juliet.

Because of course it does. I haven't seen her in a few days, and I keep trying to convince myself that's a good thing. Because I should stay away from her. This can't go anywhere. This can't lead any place.

I told myself over and over again that her wanting me to hold her was just fear. But as I look in the rear view mirror and see Braun pissing against a tree, I know it wasn't that. She'd never ask Braun, or Crawley, or Sam to hold her.

No, those grey eyes looked up at me with longing. I make her feel safe.

I gun the engine, leaving Braun to piss against the tree and catch a ride back with one of the other patrols. I drive along the perimeter line, testing the sensors, and every single one throws up an alert. The system is working.

The sun is starting to lose its fight with the approaching storm as I make my way back to the compound. The gate guards wave me through, and once I park the truck, I head to the obs tower. They're putting up fresh barbed wire along the fenceline as I pass, and the sight has me pausing to watch for a moment. This is how we live our lives now, surrounded by barbed wire and heavy gates. Sure, there's a garden, and a forest, and a stream hidden away in the trees.

But we're locked up.

Boston had turned into a giant walled city, and living there had been hell. I'd been allocated a tiny apartment, barely the size of a regular bedroom, and worked in a factory for 12 hours a day. After living a completely unfettered life of freedom with Margot for so many years, the transition had been a hard one. They'd seized all of her assets, which was easy since I'd been on my own. Margot had always rejected the idea of her own coven, she was too much of a loner. I didn't mind, I was incredibly possessive of her. The occasional orgy was one thing - sharing her with someone else full time was not an option.

It wasn't until the Affliction hit that she began to take in other vamps, letting them live with us to keep them safe. A decision that ultimately cost her her life.

After two years of that misery, mourning Margot and dealing with nights of crippling loneliness in my tiny apartment, the call went out that Milledgeville needed guards. The country compounds had been set up in the early days of the Affliction, a way to keep humans out of the big cities where the Afflicted had more places to hide, and more opportunity to attack. They had expanded, and needed more guards. I jumped at the chance.

Being out in the countryside and away from a city that had essentially turned into a giant industrial complex was better, infinitely better. But watching the guards wind out large rolls of barbed wire now reminds me that we're all just prisoners, in our own way.

Braun's right. That philosophy degree really does seem to be coming into play more and more.

The obs tower is buzzing with activity, screens lit up, vamps talking over each other as they try to decipher all the incoming data. Lightning flashes in the navy sky, and I just hope the grid stays stable and the power doesn't go out. I look at some readings over the shoulders of my colleagues, and the sensors are all up. Everything looks as it should. If any Afflicted head our way, we'll know about it.

Satisfied everything is as it should be and not wanting to be in a room of arguing vamps any longer, I climb back down the ladder. A few raindrops have started peppering the ground, the wind picking up as it drags the storm in over us.

I cross the yard, turn a corner, and am hit with Juliet's scent the split second before she runs straight into me.

"Shit, sorry." I grab on to her so I don't knock her to the ground, and she inhales sharply, her wide eyes fixed on me.

"Hi," she says softly. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, of course, I'm fine. You?"

She nods, and I realize I still have a hold of her. But I don't let go.

"I was out checking the perimeter, making sure the sensors are all where they should be."

"Oh. OK." The look she's giving me is hard to read and it's going to drive me insane. Is she frightened? Relieved? She's trembling ever so slightly under my hands, and I know I should let her go. But she feels so fucking nice, her warmth against my palms, and I don't want to move an inch.

"I told you I was going to keep you safe, didn't I?" I smile down at her.

"Hey!"

This fucking guy. I lift my eyes at the same time that Juliet jumps a little and casts a glance over her shoulder. Her stupid fucking boyfriend comes charging towards us, his features twisted with fury. Juliet backs away from me quickly, dropping her head, and rage leeches into my bones.

"You OK, babe?" He barks, and I want to backhand that fucking tone right out of his mouth.

"She's fine," I say.

"I didn't fucking ask you." He doesn't look at me as he snarls out the words through gritted teeth, putting a possessive arm around Juliet's shoulders. "Babe, are you OK?'

She nods, her eyes fixed on the ground. "I'm fine, we were just talking."

"Well you don't need to talk to him, you talk to me." His voice is cloyingly saccharine.

"She can talk to whoever she fucking well wants to, mate." I cross my arms over my chest. "If she wants to talk to me, she can."

His head snaps towards me. "Actually, according to your own little fucking rules, you're not allowed to touch her, and you're not supposed to fraternize with us, remember?" His mouth curls into a grin as Juliet's head drops further, her hair completely covering her face. "You're supposed to stay right the fuck away from her, mate. So how about you do that, huh?"

"If she wants me to stay away from her, she'll tell me. But the rules?" I take a step closer to him, and the certainty in his face falters just a little. "I've never much been one to follow the rules. So if you think some fucking by-line is going to stop me from talking to her, then you've got another thing coming."

"King?" Anderson's voice sounds behind me, and Matt's face lights up with triumphant delight. "King, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"We won't keep you," Matt drawls, herding Juliet away from us.

I grit my teeth and turn to face my boss, who's eyeing me wearily. He tilts his head in the direction of his office, turning on his heel as I begin to follow him.

"Close the door," he says once we're in his office, heading for the chair behind his desk. He loves to deliver a bollocking from the comfort of his leather chair, and I know I'm in for a bollocking. He heard every word I just said.

"Is something wrong, sir?" I try to keep my tone light.

He steeples his fingers in front of him and sighs. "You want to tell me what's going on with that girl?"

"What girl?"

"Don't play with me, King." Anderson doesn't raise his voice, he just keeps his expectant gaze fixed on me. "I asked you a question, and I'd like an answer."

"The answer is nothing." I shrug. "Nothing's going on."

"Uh-huh. Is that why Simpson found you showering with her?"

Those fucking words send a mental image straight into my brain, and this is definitely not the fucking time. "We weren't showering together." Fuck, I wish that had been the case. "She nearly collapsed, she was shaking and going into shock. A hot shower seemed like a quick way to warm her up."

"Right, and the fact you had your arms around her?"

Fuck you, Simpson, you fucking snake.I roll my shoulders, setting my jaw to stop any unwise words tumbling out. "I was holding her up. I told Simpson as much. She nearly collapsed. If she'd fallen and hit her head-"

"King, I asked what's going on." Anderson leans on his desk, his eyebrows raised. "Now, I want you to tell me what's going on, not argue semantics. I just heard you tell that bloodbag out there that you didn't care about the rules."

"The guy's a maggot."

"A what?" Anderson rises to his feet.. "I gotta tell you, King, this sounds a lot like two fellas ruffling their feathers in front of the female."

I laugh out loud. "You think I'm trying to show off to a bloodbag, sir?"

"Listen here, son, the way you're talking to that guy and the way you're talking to me now, it sounds like jealousy."

"I am not jealous of that fucking guy." I am. I'm so jealous I can"t think. I'm so jealous I annihilated a fucking punching bag imagining it was his face. The thought of him touching my girl, putting his grubby fucking hands on that body that he can't even please - I'm so jealous I can barely fucking see. But I can't admit that to my boss. "I'm simply trying to look after the humans. I take this responsibility seriously. Blokes like Braun, they see them as nothing but a blood supply. I see them as people, like we should."

"Not like a piece of ass?"

My rage is so incandescent for a second I can practically smell it, ashen and scorching straight down to my lungs. I want to jump across the table and claw his fucking eyes out. I want to rip his fucking tongue out. Piece of ass. That's my fucking girl he's talking about.

"With all due respect, sir, you're way outta line." I'm almost proud of myself for swallowing down all that rage. "I've not touched a human, not once. I've never given you reason to doubt me. I've never given you reason not to trust me."

Anderson cocks an eyebrow. "No, I suppose you haven't. But that doesn't change the fact that you need to watch yourself."

"I am watching myself, sir."

We stare at each other for a moment, as though daring the other to make a wrong move. Instead we both just watch, until Anderson dips his head.

"Alright, King, you take it easy on yourself. You're a good officer. Keep it that way."

Keep it that way. The words pursue me through the rain, all the way back to my cabin. They're a thinly veiled threat.

I've heard what happens to vamps who break the rules before. Stripped down, chained up with silver, and injected with ever-increasing doses of silver nitrate. Eventually you're nothing but a heap on the floor, screaming and begging for the pain to stop. They starve you of blood. They starve you of light. They leave you there to rot until you're a ragged corpse. Then they feed you. And then they start it all again.

It doesn't happen often. The very idea of it is so monstrous that no one dares bend the rules.

But I'll bend the rules. I'll bend them till they break and shatter around me. And if I crawl out of this a withered corpse on bloody hands, then so be it.