Chapter 25

RED

T he liquid tastes like shit. But I mean, of course it does. It's thousand-year-old god blood, what did I expect?

I lie down on the stone bed, or I think I do. Only I still seem to be sitting upright, so weird.

The atrium blurs, mist rising from the ground until it's thick enough I can't see in front of me. I swirl my arms through it, shout for Octavia, but she doesn't reach out to me.

The air cools and then warms until finally the mist clears, and I'm in a pasture full of daisies and poppies.

If this is the extent of the trial, I'm going to boss this. What was everyone worried about?

I get up off the stone bed, which disappears the minute I stand. I'm about to walk, but a black, amorphous shape appears a little way in front of me.

The blackness resolves into a strange creature. Almost demonic with it's unusual height and shroud so large when I try to catch its face, there's nothing but pitch black. It makes me think there is no head. Just a hollow void straight to the depths of hell.

It sends a shiver down my arms, goosebumps tracking over my skin.

"The fuck are you?" I breathe.

But it doesn't answer, instead it floats—though that seems like too gentle of a description. It's gracefully charging towards me, a gnarled arm leering out at me.

"Listen bitch, why don't we calm down, yeah?" I say.

I take a step back, except I don't move. Panic prickles its way up my arm. My stomach turns raw. I struggle against whatever the fuck invisible force is holding me in place. By the time shroud-thing reaches me, I'm fists clenched, ready to go out swinging.

But then, a force pins my arms in place. Its hand stretches out and plunges into my chest.

…I scream

and scream

and

scream,

and then I'm falling backwards into darkness.

When I wake, I find myself somewhere achingly familiar.

I'm in my childhood home. In the kitchen. A fire burns low in the hearth. On the sideboard are the remnants of cookie ingredients. It makes my chest ache.

"Mama?" I call.

I stand up and brush my arms down. Flour sprinkles dust the red tallies on my arm. I've always worn those tallies with pride, killing the monsters, taking power from those who wield too much of it. Those who use it to hurt the weak.

But here, in my empty childhood kitchen, the tallies take on a different feeling. My skin crawls, the tallies itch, and I'm no longer sure what they mean. They vanish, dissolving one by one as my entire being shrinks.

Suddenly, I'm not Red the hunter, I am Red the child. I am Verity.

The air is warm and still and stale. Like no one has breathed it for weeks. I don't understand. Where's my mummy?

"Mummy?" I cry out.

A baby cries in the other room. "Amelia?" I race out of the room, searching for my little sister.

I cry out for her over and over again. Finally, I find her in a cot. But when I tiptoe and peer over the cot in the living room, the blood drains out of me. I stumble back and hit my head on a chair.

My little heart stutters and pounds against my ribs.

"No. No. No." I am sobbing. "MUMMY," I scream.

But no matter how many times I cry out for her, my mother doesn't come. I crawl back to Amelia's cot and dare to snatch one more glance. But it doesn't change what I see in there.

The image of her lifeless body, her skin greyed and swollen. Patches of purple and grey all over her chubby cheeks.

I run around the rest of the house screaming for my mummy. I skid back into the kitchen and that is where I find her. Still as death, perched on a chair.

"Mummy?" I say and slide my hand into her stiff fingers.

Her skin is ghost white; puncture marks pierce her neck.

She jerks forward, sitting up, her lifeless eyes staring me down. "It's your fault I'm dead, Verity. You should have been better. You should have trained harder, taken more power."

"No, Mummy. I didn't do it."

"Weakling. Pathetic. Too scared to protect your family. You were meant to be there that night. You should have brought a carriage to collect me. And now your baby sister is dead too, and it's all your fault."

"No. Please." I'm sobbing, my pudgy hands claw at my mother's chest. But with each successive swipe, more of her body flakes away, until even her bones have disintegrated, and I am left all alone.

The room shifts. I am an adult again as mist swirls in and curls around my legs and up my body, smothering me, the table, the ashes of my mother. Everything disappears.

When the fog falls away, I am in a vampire mansion.

In a ballroom, to be specific. People in sequined gowns and rich fabrics are dancing and twirling to music. Drinking, singing and playing cards. Everything plays out rapidly as if someone sped up time.

The room empties, until only a few remain. They crowd one vampire in particular, and it makes my toes prickle. This is Dahlia's house.

This is the night Amelia was turned.

My gut swims. The room moves. I'm dragged into a grand living room. There's a small group of vampires, Dahlia leading them.

They drink, and fuck, and drag humans into their game in order to drain them half to death before discarding them and throwing money in their laps.

I'm frozen to the spot, staring in horror as their party plays out.

Their bodies move as if sped up, swirling around me as I stay the only constant. The room dims and everything grinds back to normal speed.

Dahlia is furious. Her eyes darken as she storms towards me. She passes right through me and wrenches open the cupboard door behind me.

She drags Amelia out by the scruff of her neck. Dahlia beats my sister, shreds her clothes and makes her crawl through the blood of her friends. I'm hauled from corner to corner, forced to watch the horror unfold.

Finally, Octavia appears, holding Dahlia's friend. This has already happened. I know what comes next. The scene skitters forward, and Dahlia has gone.

I scream, desperately trying to reach Amelia. But it's futile. Octavia sinks her teeth into Amelia's neck.

Over.

And over.

And over again.

Until Amelia is limp in her arms and tears streak my face.

My sister is convulsing on the floor. Writhing and screaming in agony as her body contorts and dies, her heart slows and her insides reform themselves. Her skin pales further, veins popping up. Her teeth lengthen, sharpen.

Her eyes harden. She twists up to face me, her mouth curls into a snarl, "You."

"I'm sorry, Amelia."

"You're not sorry. If you were sorry, you would have stopped it."

"I wasn't here. I couldn't stop it. I tried."

"Why weren't you here, Red? You should have saved me. You should have been faster. If you were like them, you would have been here. Instead, she saved me because you abandoned me."

"I didn't. I swear I didn't abandon you."

"It's my fault you weren't here," Octavia says.

I frown. "No. I wasn't here because…" But words fail me. I don't know why I wasn't here. What happened after I argued with Amelia that night? Where was I?

"It's your fault," Amelia snaps. "You should have been strong enough. Fast enough. What's the point of being a hunter if you can't even protect the ones you love?"

She rears up, pacing in front of me, then she turns on me.

"You're such a disappointment. Even I'm stronger than you now, Red. What's the point of you? You couldn't save Mother. You didn't stop Father leaving, and you didn't even try to save me."

As she runs at me, I attempt to stagger back and get out of the way, but my feet remain frozen in place.

I hold my arms out, plead and beg with her, but she doesn't stop. I cover my face, but the impact never comes.

I stay holding my head for a moment longer, and when I'm sure she's not coming, I lower my arms and gawp.

Dahlia's house has vanished.

I'm safe. I'm home. I'm in the Hunter Academy's foyer. Lincoln, the Chief, all my favourite people are here, and I sag against the wall.

"Thank gods, I'm exhausted." I say. I kick off the wall and reach out to fist bump Lincoln.

His top lip curls, a sneer spreading over his expression. It's jarring and makes me falter.

"Wh—what?" I stutter.

But Lincoln steps away from me. "I thought you were better than this," he says.

"I don't understand. Better than what?"

He pinches his entire face and looks down his nose at me. "Blood slut."

The word cuts me. When Octavia says it, it's degrading, but in a sexy way. Lincoln said this to hurt. Wielded as a weapon, a slur.

"Lincoln. What the fuck?" I say. "Bro. It's me."

He recoils, turns his back on me. "You're fucking a drainer, Red. How could you?"

"It's worse than that," Winston, my favourite student says, "She's in love with one."

"Vile," Lincoln says. "There's no fate worse than falling for a fucking drainer."

A middle-aged woman appears, her brown curls scooped up into a neat bun, those familiar blue eyes boring into me. She's not in uniform; it takes me a minute to recognise her.

"Chief?" I say, scanning her dress. A dress? Is this a prank?

The Chief folds her arms. "You were meant for so much more. I really thought you'd take over from me one day, Red. You are the biggest disappointment of them all."

Keir appears. Talulla, and even Fenella. Fenella? I thought she died. Where am I? They all point, their fingers trained on me like arrows.

"Traitor." Their whispers sing the word like a lullaby. It worms its way into my mind, filling my head with poison.

"I'm not a traitor. The Academy is everything to me."

"TRAITOR. TRAITOR. TRAITOR." Their whispered words scream at me.

The accusation circling.

Repeating.

Blaming.

"Please, it wasn't like that. The Chief asked me to go undercover. This is all part of a job."

I can't breathe. My chest is so tight I'm hyperventilating. My fingers tingle. They can't abandon me too.

"Is she part of a job, too?" Lincoln asks, and I know he means Octavia. How can I answer that when I wasn't meant to fall for her? I am supposed to be undercover for the Academy, but somewhere along the line, I lost my heart.

I stare at him, opened-mouthed and unable to respond. I can't lie, the lie won't even leave my lips.

"I—" I start, my vision dappling with static.

He snorts. "Pathetic. You're just like Erin, another fallen hunter."

They all turn their backs to me, leaving me alone. I fall to my knees, the ache in my chest suffocating me, drowning me. This is where my heart crumbles. Broken from the loss of everyone I love and all because I couldn't save them.

I couldn't save anyone.

"You saved me," a familiar voice drifts through my mind.

"Octavia?" I whisper.

"Every time I lose you, you come back to me. You save me, Red. Your heart, your mind, your body. You were born for me."

"But I couldn't save them," I say, my voice cracking.

"Some people aren't meant to be saved. Some people need to save themselves."

"It should have been me. I should have been strong enough," I say.

"You weren't ready for the power then."

"What? And I am now?"

"You're the only one who can answer that. But you won't if you don't get up and save yourself first. Get the fuck up. Don't lose yourself here. Leave and return to me so we can finish this together."

I stand up and get off the cold tiles where I was ready to lie down and desiccate like many of the vampires I've killed.

I flash the other hunters one last look. Their backs still face me, and I turn around. Leaving them and choosing me instead.

I choose to save myself this time.

I open the Academy doors and step out.

But instead of stepping into the courtyard, the mist reappears, and I'm dragged back to the beginning and the pasture I stood in before this all began.

The demonic creature with the head in the hood materialises to stand before me. This time, instead of plunging his clawed hand into my chest, he kneels on one leg and holds out a hand, palm up.

I hesitate. The fuck am I meant to do? I don't trust it. But he lowers his head and raises his hand. I assume I'm meant to hold it.

I sigh and place the palm of my hand over his.

There's a tingle between our skin. It itches, or maybe it tickles. I can't quite decide which.

"Congratulations, Red. And now, your reward. The Mother of Blood has decided to bestow upon you a single piece of information. You are being deceived by a woman close to you. This is the gift we give you."

The pasture moves, but doesn't disappear, instead I'm dragged to a river's edge. I'm stood across it, but on the other side is a stone arbour. Two women are inside, giggling and talking.

I can't see enough. But there's no way I can get closer without moving across the river and there's no bridge or boat in sight.

As if this dream knows my predicament, I'm propelled across the river and dropped outside of the stone arbour.

There's a cute little burner stove inside it. The women, to my shock, are making love. I avert my eyes. But as I turn away, I catch sight of the hair of the woman lying down.

It's raven black. I move, craning my head, and freeze as I catch sight of those dark eyes.

"Cordelia," I whisper. Even without the silver streak in her hair, I recognise her. But she's much younger, much more… I don't know? Human? She looks the same, only happier, content, pinker, and not just because she has a woman between her legs.

Her fingers grip the blanket beneath her, scrunching it as her mouth drops open and she cries out a name.

"Eleanor."

I gasp, realising this is the love of her life. The woman lays between Cordelia's legs. I can't see her face, only a mop of brown curls.

But something gnaws in my gut. A familiarity. I scoot around, expecting to be frozen in place, but I'm not. I move freely and head around the back of the arbour to get a better view of this woman.

I press my back to the arbour wall, the cool stone seeping into my back when I remember none of this is real. They can't see me or hear me, so I don't need to hide.

I step off the wall and to the side, getting a full-frontal view of the woman, her wavy curls and blue eyes.

And everything stops.

My mouth hangs slack as I gawp at a woman I've known nearly all my life.

"Mother of Blood," I breathe, and the vision dissolves.