Chapter 23
23
Recovered Journal of Dr. Georgia Clark
May 27, Year 1, Emergence Era
I had the nightmare again. Candice. The way she looked at me, silently pleading. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep moving forward knowing what I know. I’m sinking. I’m lost at sea, rudderless and dying of starvation and exposure. I can’t tell the team what happened. I can’t tell anyone. Except Valen. But how can I confide in one of them ? Especially him. He was there. He was there and now Candice is nothing more than a recurring nightmare.
T he library has no organization system—at least not one I can follow. The bookcases reach impossibly high, and there aren’t any ladders. It’s like a library that was created for looks instead of usefulness. Then again, I suppose if I had wings or vampire abilities, the height wouldn’t be an issue. As it is, I’m relegated to examining the bottom rows.
It took almost a day of screwing up my courage, but I forced myself down to this level again. I intend to stay far, far away from Valen’s private quarters. The library, though, doesn’t feel particularly threatening. No terrible memories in here, at least not yet.
Most of the books are in foreign languages, and some of them are so old that when I touch them, they crumble, their spines rotten and the pages little more than dust.
I sneeze so much that I’ve stuffed a hand towel into my back pocket for my poor nose. It’s been hours, and I’m no closer to finding anything of use. I did discover some books on ritual sacrifice, demonology, gods, and monster of the ancient world—at least that’s what I think they were about based on the illustrations.
I’ve searched only a fraction of the stacks before I plop down in the threadbare armchair beside the lamp. The same book lies on the arm of it. Valen must be too busy killing and maiming to sit here for a bit of light reading. Still, why is this book the one he has at his fingertips?
I open it again, flipping slowly through the pages as if I can somehow break the code he’s embedded in the margins with his notes. Nothing strikes me, nothing new, anyway. I glance at the table, at the books stacked here and there. I grab one, then sink back into the unexpectedly comfortable chair. All it needs is a throw blanket and it could be decent.
The spine creaks as I open it, the pages yellowed at the edges. I sneeze. Even here in this dungeon, a library smells like every other library, the books slowly disintegrating just like the humans reading them. My metaphor falls apart when I think about the vampires. They’ll outlive the books, the humans, everything. I should’ve asked Melody that—how long do vampires live. Is it really forever? But only forever if they don’t get hurt. It’s immortality but also not.
I pinch the bridge of my nose in a fruitless effort to stop it from tingling. Two more sneezes shatter the library’s stillness.
This book is written in the same language as the other, or at least it’s in a language I can’t read. I’m back to picture books, doing my best to follow the plot through the images. The text is cramped, the lettering small. I don’t think I could read it even if it were in English. But the deeper I go, I start to realize what it is—a vampire lineage, possibly a history, too.
“Holy shit,” I mumble as I turn the next page and find the dragon emblem in stark red ink, the same dragon that adorns the walls all over the castle. Not a coat of arms, more of a sigil, it signifies Blood Dragonis. Several pages are filled with illustrations of a black castle on a craggy hillside. Then an entire barren field of bodies impaled on spikes, a forest of the dead.
More flipping leads me to the green emblem of Blood Tantun. A snake curls its way around the parchment, its eyes a vicious red. And beyond that, the dark violet crow of Blood Corvidion.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to read this. It’s a wealth of information, something the humans could use to understand the vampires, possibly to stop them.
I keep going, my fingers skating across the pages until I reach what seems to be another section. The entirety of it is written in dark crimson ink, and my throat closes at the notion it could be blood.
“Surely not,” I reassure myself and keep flipping.
Though sparse, the illustrations are full of clues, like puzzles I’m not quite able to complete.
By the time I close the book, I have a sinus headache and an empty stomach. I take it with me back to my room and find dinner sitting outside my door. I assume David is the one preparing my meals now though I can’t be sure. He doesn’t seem like the sort who cooks, but it’s not like I know him.
I open the door a crack, tuck the book under my arm, and grab the tray, then back through the doorway into my room. When I turn, I let out a yelp and drop the tray.
Fatima catches it easily, her unnatural quickness making me gasp.
“You always were so clumsy,” she chides and slides the tray onto my nightstand.
My mouth hangs open from the surprise of it as I take her in. She’s wearing a black jumpsuit that’s fitted tightly at the top and flares out into loose pants. Her hair is down, the waves like flowing ebony over her shoulder.
“Not happy to see me?” she asks and sits on my bed, crossing her legs at the knee. “Come.” She pats the space beside her, her eyes glinting.
“What are you doing here?” I wonder where David is, if he can hear the panicked beat of my heart.
“An old friend can’t stop by for a visit?” She pouts, her red lips a perfect Cupid’s bow. “Sit.” Her command is curt this time.
I ease closer to her and sink down, the book still tucked under my arm. Maybe she won’t notice it.
“I’ve been waiting for you to leave that dreadful library. What do you have there?” She reaches for the book.
I lean away. “Nothing.”
Her eyes narrow, but she drops her hand back into her lap.
“What happened to you?” I ask the question that’s been haunting me since the ball.
“I evolved.” She leans back on her elbows, her cowl neckline revealing the swells of her breasts. It’s jarring, seeing her like this. Fatima was always so modest. And religious . Her hair carefully covered, her prayers always said.
“You’re with Gregor. He’s killing everyone. He wants to destroy every last human in existence. You’re okay with that?”
“I am.” She shrugs lightly.
“What happened to you?” I ask again.
Her eyes meet mine. “I finally made a decision for myself,” she snaps. “I chose what I wanted my life to be. No one else chose for me, not this time.”
“You were part of our family. We?—”
She scoffs. “I was tolerated, nothing more.”
“That’s not true. Juno relied on you, trusted you.”
“Juno?” She smirks. “Juno is the one who set all this into motion. I should thank her.”
I stand, unable to sit next to her for another moment. She makes my skin crawl. “Why are you here?”
“Just visiting.” She tracks my movements with her eyes, her pupils dilating. “You seem uncomfortable with the new me.”
“The old you wasn’t a liar.”
“Oh, but I was.” She smiles, her beauty frozen in time, perfection etched into stone. “Everyone is a liar. Even you, Georgia.”
“Are you going to tell me what you want?” I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m tired and hungry.”
“I’m hungry, too.” She sits up with feline speed.
“Don’t.” I back up until I hit the wall.
Her eyes close. “I never heard the sound of a heartbeat before. You did. You were a doctor. But not me. Now, I hear them, and they’re a symphony. Not a simple beat, there’s more. The blood rushing through the chambers, flushing the skin, plumping the veins,” she purrs. “Beautiful.”
“The old you didn’t creep me out.” I tighten my arms around myself.
She opens her eyes. “You don’t find me beautiful?”
“Are you going to tell me what you want or are you here to fish for compliments?”
“You always were clever.”
“I thought you were, too.” I don’t know if it’s fatalism or because I survived a murder attempt, but I’m tired of her, of this. I walk to the nightstand and open the tray’s lid. A simple sandwich and some cucumber slices. Not bad. My appetite died the moment I saw Fatima, but I make a show of taking a bite of sandwich.
“Why does Valen keep you locked away in here?” she asks, her voice right behind me.
I whirl and swallow hard, the lump of food like a stone in my throat. She’s close, too damn close.
“What?”
She cocks her head to the side. “Why does he never bring you to the Black Cavern?”
“How should I know?” I stare back at her. I don’t want to think about him dragging me back to that horrible place.
She glances at my lips. “I suspect he’s become attached to you.”
I can’t help the snort that escapes me. “ Attached ? He’s kept me prisoner, assaulted me, bragged about murdering my sister to me.” My flash of amusement turns to cold anger. “So no, I wouldn’t say he’s attached .”
“Sounds like foreplay.” She presses me against the wall with her body.
“Get off.” I wince as she bares her fangs.
“No.” She grips my shoulders.
“This isn’t you.”
“Wrong. It’s me distilled to the finest vintage.”
“Why?” I spit the word like an accusation.
“Why?” she mocks, her eyes flashing. “Because I’m stronger than I’ve ever been. Because now I’m the one who calls the shots. I’m not your sister’s fucking lapdog.”
“You never were. You were?—”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you used to sing—you had a beautiful voice. You never ate meat. You mourned your sister who died from the plague. You?—”
“Shut up,” she snaps.
“You were a friend.”
“I was expendable.”
“Not to me.”
She laughs, the sound full of cruelty. “To Juno. You were expendable to her, too. That’s why you’re here.”
I grit my teeth. There’s nothing I can say to her, to this new nightmare that wears Fatima’s face.
“Gregor gave me a chance to be more. I took it.”
“What did you give him in exchange?”
Her grip tightens. “Enough of your bullshit, Georgia. Tell me what I want to know. What is Valen doing? Plotting against Gregor? Why hasn’t he stripped your memories yet?”
“What, no compulsion to force it from me?” I taunt.
She smiles, her fangs growing longer. “I’d be happy to?—”
Someone clears their throat. I look past Fatima to find David in the doorway.
“You may not harm her,” he says in a chiding tone. “That was the deal.”
“You knew she was here?” I ask.
“Of course.” He has the nerve to roll his eyes.
“Get out,” she snarls.
“No blood,” he warns, then disappears.
Her tone turns silky again. “Is he plotting against Gregor? Tell me and you can have this. Young forever. Beautiful forever.” She skates her fingers along my cheek. “I could give it to you. You could do anything you wanted.”
I have no loyalty to Valen, but I have none to Fatima, either. I don’t answer.
“Tell me.”
“You think Valen lets me in on whatever it is he’s doing? You think what, that I help him figure out the quickest, easiest way to destroy humanity?” I scoff. “I guess you’re right. We never did know each other.”
“No, I said you never knew me . You, on the other hand, I know everything about you. Juno’s adored little sister, doted on, cared for, loved above all else. Child prodigy. Scientist. You were supposed to save us all from the plague. How’d that turn out?” She grins.
“Why are you here? Just to ask me stupid questions I can’t answer? Gregor should’ve sent someone else.”
“What makes you think Gregor sent me?”
I don’t have an answer for that.
Her eyes harden. “I told you, I’m making my own choices now. No one else is making them for me. Not even him. But I need to know which way the wind’s blowing.”
“I’m locked in an underground castle, and you think I have any idea which way the wind is blowing?” I scoff at her. “That’s something else about you that’s changed. You used to be smart.”
She hisses between her teeth and backs away. “You know something, some tidbit of information that would be invaluable to me. Do you think I just floated along behind your sister for all those years? No, I watched and listened and learned. Gaining the upper hand is often nothing more than a matter of paying close attention. But Valen is inscrutable, never giving anything away. We know he’s plotting against Gregor. Torture hasn’t gotten the truth from him, no matter what Gregor tries. He won’t admit to his treason, and he hasn’t given us another target. Either he is the traitor or he knows who it is.”
“If Gregor thinks Valen is plotting against him, why doesn’t he just kill him?” The thought just pops out. I’m becoming more like them the longer I’m locked away down here.
“Kill his most powerful general in the war on the humans?” She tsks. “And he is the last of Gregor’s direct line, even if his blood is tainted by the human half.”
“ You were a human, Fatima. Have you forgotten that?”
“And now I’m something more. Humans are a species meant for extinction. It’s just occurring faster than nature intended.”
“How does that happen?” I ask.
“Extinction?” She blinks. “By?—”
“No, how did you go from having thoughts and feelings to being a vicious bitch with no regard for anyone but herself? Does becoming one of them cost your soul? Are you damned?”
She smirks. “As I’ve said, it’s humanity that’s damned. Not me.” She crosses her arms, drumming her nails along the bare skin of her upper arms. Her beautiful eyes narrow. “What do you want?”
“What?”
“I had to make a deal to get in here to see you. Now I’ll make one with you for the information I need. What do you want, Georgia? Quid pro quo .”
“Out of here.”
She barks a mirthless laugh. “Something actually doable, you little fool.”
I have a question, one that’s never been fully answered. It’s tickled at the edges of my mind, a misshapen puzzle piece that can be forced but still ruins the final image.
“I can tell you who he’s met with—the ones I’ve seen. But that’s all. I don’t know anything else. If that’s of value to you, then we may be able to make a deal.”
She wrinkles her nose. “That’s all?”
“Take it or leave it.” I shrug.
“What do you want in return?”
“An answer to a single question.”
One of her perfect brows arches, then she twirls her finger in a ‘go on’ motion.
“Gregor wants to destroy humanity. But doesn’t that mean he will also destroy vampires?” She opens her mouth, and I hold up a finger. “That’s not my question.”
Her fingers drum faster against her skin.
“I mean, this is obvious. The whole food chain will collapse if the vampire’s primary blood source is gone. Just basic math. Gregor’s end goal is irrational and nihilistic. I think you all know this.”
She doesn’t so much as twitch.
“But the vampires go along with the plan because Gregor’s the king and disobedience earns them a visit from his Specter, which then ends with their heads separated from their bodies. Maybe the vampires think Gregor just needs time to come to terms with his grief. Or maybe, as you suspect, some of them are plotting to take him down.”
“Is there a question?” she asks testily. “I’m not one of your students, Doctor. The lecture isn’t necessary.”
“There is a question. Gregor lost his only full-blooded heir, Theo. He’s a homicidal maniac, so a bloody rampage seems on track as a way to assuage his anger over the loss. But this complete extermination is something different.” I think back to the book with the joined trees, one dead, the other fading slowly. “I only did a few psych rotations, but I studied suicidal ideation. Most suicides destroy only themselves. But some—particularly if they display narcissistic traits—are what are known as family annihilators. They take everyone with them to the grave. Usually, they don’t show outward signs of their descent into destruction. Gregor though, he looks …”
She’s grown more tense, her fingers still, her gaze fixed on me.
“Well, you know how he looks. Like he’s suffering from a wasting disease. Skin gray, eyes sunken—” I grimace. “So my question is this: Is Gregor dying?”
She’s on me in an imperceptible blink, her palm across my mouth, the force of it pressing the back of my head painfully against the wall. “You will never utter that out loud again,” her whisper is a sibilant hiss.
I grab her wrist, but she doesn’t move.
“ Never ,” she repeats.
Heart racing, I stare into her eyes. And in them I see the truth. The fear. The uncertainty.
I’m right.
Gregor is dying.
She yanks her hand from me and tears from my room, the door slamming against the wall and vibrating from the force of it.