CHAPTER 48 - BLAKE

"I care because I want you and Regan to both make it out of this," I lied. "Now do you want to know how I can help you or not?"

When she hesitated, I shrugged. "Fine. It's been nice knowing you, Pendragon."

I moved to go but she stepped in front of me.

I grinned.

"Get that self-satisfied look off your face," she spat.

I held my hands up in mock surrender.

She wasn't going to like this next part. I was bracing for her reaction.

"Fine," she said, tapping her foot impatiently. "What's the big tip? What do I have to do? Paint the refectory with blood? Sacrifice another blightborn virgin in the Sanctum?"

I flinched, and so did she as the cruel words left her mouth. She wasn't hardened enough to make jokes about that yet. I wasn't even sure if I was.

"If it involves you drinking me," she hissed. "Then the answer is absolutely fucking not."

I smirked. "It doesn't. All you have to do is drink some of my blood. Think you can handle that?"

She took a step back. "You can't be serious," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "No. Hell no."

I sighed, resisting the urge to point out that any other girl at Bloodwing would have been flattered. I'd never even made the offer before. But Pendragon didn't care about any of that. She didn't care about our ways or traditions. She didn't care about the power the blood of the four houses held.

After what we'd both witnessed in the Sanctum, I supposed I didn't blame her.

"You agree to drink my blood," I said. "And I'll tell you a secret no one else knows. One that will give you power over me. One that could even get me killed. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Admit it."

Something dark flickered in her eyes and I hoped I wasn't making the biggest mistake of my life.

"Well?" I said, trying to look impatient. The truth was, I didn't really want to tell her. Part of me might have even been hoping she'd say no. But if she did, she'd be screwed.

"What will it do for me?" she demanded. "Your blood."

I searched for the right words. "It'll give you an edge. Make you stronger. Faster. Give you a little taste of my vampire abilities. Temporarily, of course."

I pulled a small vial from my pocket and held it up so she could see the red liquid glistening inside. "You won't even have to touch me. Just drink this. It'll help you survive."

She stared at the vial in my hand as if I were trying to poison her. "Drinking your blood is just as bad as touching you."

I tried to laugh it off. "You might be right."

For a long moment, she glared at me. But then her hand reached out slowly for the vial.

I watched her uncork it, then tilt the small glass bottle to her lips. My eyes fixed on her slender pale throat as she swallowed.

There was something erotic about watching her take part of me inside of her.

She downed the blood, her expression twisting in discomfort. But she didn't gag or spit it out.

"Good girl," I said with a smirk.

She gave me a dirty look, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and handed the empty vial back. "There. I did it. Now let's get the bullshit over with. What's your deep, dark secret, Blake?"

I slipped the vial back inside the pocket of my coat. "Aenia. She's not my sister. Not really."

Her eyes widened slightly. "What?"

I walked past her, moving to stand at the edge of the grove, looking down at the churning sea below.

"My brother Marcus... You saw him that first day, up on the dais with my uncle." I turned to look back at her and she nodded. "Right. Well, he's the kind of highblood you'd hate. If he ever comes near you, you should run in the opposite direction. He loves the hunt."

I wasn't sure if she would understand what I meant.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for her reaction to this next part. "What I mean by that is, he loves to kill. He doesn't use thralls. He prefers to hunt and then to feed. He slaughtered Aenia's real family. He left her to die. She was barely two years old. I found her, bleeding out." I paused, swallowing hard. "I turned her."

Pendragon had walked up beside me. I could feel her by my shoulder. Now she stiffened. "You turned her? What does that mean?"

"I mean I made her," I said bluntly. "Made her like us. She was a blightborn. I made her a highblood." I shoved my hands in my pockets. "Though not everyone would see it that way."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there's another name for those like Aenia. Foulbloods they're called. Blightborn who have been turned." I turned to look down at her. "Most of the time, they're hunted down and killed."

"But she was only a child," Pendragon whispered. "Would they have really done that?"

I shrugged. "Who knows. What matters is I botched it. I was too young to know what I was really doing. Too young to have even attempted it. My mother found me with Aenia. I begged her for help." I cleared my throat, finding it suddenly thick with emotion. "She helped me hide what I'd done. She took Aenia and went away for a while. When she returned, she claimed Aenia as her own child to protect me."

Pendragon was staring up at me. I couldn't tell if it was disgust in her eyes or something else. "You let everyone believe she was your sister, this entire time?"

"Marcus probably suspects. He's an idiot but he's not quite that dense. And I'm fairly sure my uncle knows." Viktor used it as something to hold over me. It gave him more power to control me. "But if anyone else knew the truth, they could kill Aenia and be well within their rights. Or me."

"Why you?"

"Because I broke the law, Pendragon. I'd be called before a tribunal. My uncle would probably get involved but he wouldn't be able to shield me, not entirely." Even if he actually wanted to and I had my doubts. "Representatives from all of the four houses would each select a judge. They could decide to execute me."

I stepped away from her and sat back down on the stone bench, clasping my hands together. "I was too young to know how stupid what I'd done was. I thought I was saving her."

To my surprise, she came over and sat down on the bench. Though not right next to me. In fact, she sat as far away as was possible without falling off the bench.

"But you did," she said slowly. "Save her, I mean."

"It would probably have been kinder to leave her to die." I sighed. "She's alive now, yes. But look at how she's living. She's losing her mind. You saw how she is. She's becoming feral. Wild. It's always a risk when you turn someone. She's a danger to herself and to others."

Pendragon looked at me, her eyes narrowing. "I'm glad you see it that way. Where is she now? What did you do with her?"

I scowled. I'd known this was coming but I wasn't about to be interrogated. "She's somewhere safe. Where she's not a danger to anyone."

She stared at me. "And what about Marcus?"

"Marcus?"

"You said that he killed Aenia's family. What would a tribunal have to say about that?"

I didn't reply.

She threw her head back and gave a bitter laugh. "I thought so. It's so fucked up. At Bloodwing, blightborn are treated almost like equals. I think you really fool us into thinking you see us that way half the time. But we're not. We'll never be, will we? Nothing would happen to your brother for killing Aenia's family, would it? What he did probably isn't even against the law. Tell me, Blake. Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're not," I said, frowning. "But such unrestrained violence is looked down upon these days. Most highbloods exercise far more control than Marcus. There's a system. Most of us follow it. My uncle encourages restraint." I said the words as if by rote. But I knew the system could crumble apart at any moment. That the balance we had right now was precarious. Maybe Viktor even wanted it to fall.

"We need blightborns," I said, trying to hide my real thoughts. "Most highbloods know that. You fulfill roles that we need."

She shook her head. "We're useful in other words. But you don't really value our lives or see us as individuals to care about."

"That's not true," I retorted. "Some highbloods value their thralls greatly. Blightborn can be brilliant healers, strategists, scouts."

"As fodder for your armies when you go to war with one another, you mean," Pendragon cut in.

I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. "Whatever. I've told you what I came here to say. I've given you an advantage. Use it how you will."

I stood up.

"So that's it?"

I looked down at her.

"You're just going to trust me with a secret that could get you and your sister–no, your child –killed?"

I kicked at a rock on the ground. "I'm completely at your mercy. Is that what you want me to say?"

"No, what I want you to say is ‘thank you, Pendragon, for letting me get that weight off my chest.'"

"What the hell are you on about?" I asked angrily.

She stood up. "You only told me that because you wanted to. You wanted me to know so that I would feel guilty about Aenia just like you do. That's manipulative and fucked up, Blake, even for you."

I snapped. I stepped up into her space, bumping my chest against hers.

She gasped and took a step back.

"Everything I have done has been to protect you. We're bound, you and I, whether you like it or not. Marcus is a monster. He's also my family. Which makes him your family. Aenia is... She's a child."

"Is that how you see it?" she scoffed. "You think you owe them your loyalty? You know, the truth is that Marcus probably deserves to be put down even more than Aenia."

I hissed. "Don't ever say that. Don't ever speak about my family that way."

But in my heart, I already knew she was right. I'd known for a long time.

"We're done here," I said, turning away from her. "Good luck in the Games."