Chapter 17 Susenyos
SUSENYOS
Susenyos was in agony.
He needed blood.
It reminded him of the vicious hunger cycles the Nefrasi would enter every decade or so, when the actis bound to them eventually died or left.
Arin had not tried to attack him again after burying him alive, most likely because he looked like hell.
But Susenyos also knew it was a matter of time.
He had to act quickly and sway her to his side.
The one thing the Nefrasi always needed, above revenge, was blood. The Sicions were vigilant in maintaining perfect control over the flow of blood. One error and the whole campus would descend into lockdown.
So Susenyos bartered.
For three blood bags, it had cost him his precious collection of first edition books, two months in Rojit hospital service—which meant offering his body to science to be poked and prodded at like a piece of meat—and a contract with a mousy Delarus vampire to take on his challengers during Cossia Day.
Along with Taj and Iniko, Susenyos waited for Arin in a run-down motel, a cooler of bags full of blood ready.
“What if we try to kill Arin? Go straight for the Nefrasi,” Taj said, throwing his switchblade up and down. “And by we, I mean you two. I’ll pass around the weapons.”
Susenyos supported himself against the windowsill, drinking alcohol and coffee to temper his hunger, but it was hardly working.
He had spent all day in the Southern Sost Buildings, lingering around in the courting room, where the smell of blood rioted.
The collective stench of blood had nearly made him keel over but no acti had been interested.
Savage Susenyos was only for the daring.
But even if they had, he knew he couldn’t keep their blood down.
He rubbed his hurting jaw. He didn’t know how long he could stand being away from Kidan.
He hadn’t missed the empty glass sitting in Adane House, red liquid coating its inside.
Knowing Samson was feeding on her infuriated him beyond words.
But the only way he could kill him was after securing the blade artifact.
Iniko’s eyes were trained on the door. “Arin’s too strong. We need at least twenty of our best warriors to land a scratch on her.”
Susenyos winced as he nodded. “We do whatever necessary to get the Nefrasi back.”
Once he had his people, he would deal with Arin.
“It’s good we’re finally doing this,” Iniko said, studying him. “I—”
A blur of leather appeared before Iniko could finish her thought. She flew back, hurtling through space, colliding with the wall.
Susenyos and Taj straightened, reaching for their silver weapons.
A booted heel rested on the container of blood.
“Sorry I’m late,” Arin said, checking her claws. “Andreyas likes to talk. Oh, and that’s how you land a scratch, Iniko.”
Iniko righted herself and brushed the dust off her coat, her carved cheek bleeding.
The scene reminded Susenyos of the first time the three stood against Arin.
They had been human then. Entirely outmatched but Arin had appreciated their bravery enough to let them live.
That was the thing about Arin. She respected sacrifice and loyalty, which was why what Susenyos had done was unforgivable.
Two vampires came in after her.
Susenyos lifted his chin in surprise. Biruk and Henok. They were part of his food lovers group. Insatiable. Eager to taste everything and anything. Perfect.
It was Henok who walked in first, tall and lanky. Susenyos had a sudden image of the two in his court, stealing plates of roasted meat from his father’s table and being lashed with lion-skin ropes.
Despite every bone inside him hurting, Susenyos smiled.
Both their mouths fell open slightly.
“Y-Yos?” Biruk appeared to not believe his eyes. “Arin told us you were alive but—”
“Biruk,” Henok snapped, taking a step back, assessing Taj and Iniko. “Don’t talk to him.”
Henok removed his silver earring, in the shape of a dagger, and quickly cut his tongue. Iniko reacted instantly, bringing out her double-bladed knife and drawing her own blood, holding it flat against her forearm.
A bitter pang went through Susenyos but he pushed it aside.
Instead he turned his anger on Arin, who was studying every frame of his expression. This was another test.
She was showing him what he’d done to his own people. Turned them against one another.
“Iniko,” Susenyos said.
She lowered her weapon.
“We’re not here to fight,” Susenyos said.
Only confusion and questions waited in their gazes.
“I thought you were dead,” Susenyos told them. “We looked for you… after.”
“We wished we had died.” Henok’s dark tone was new. The past sixty years had erased the teasing light from him.
“You promised us we would take over the world.” Biruk’s voice was quieter, face always giving away everything he felt.
The obvious hurt made guilt swarm in Susenyos’s gut and he looked away. Taj and Iniko stared at the ground.
“And we will,” Susenyos said, hardening his voice. “I’ll do as I said. I’ll destroy Lusidio.”
Arin studied him with her guarded eyes; even after two centuries with her, he could never understand what game she was playing.
“Why are we here?” Arin asked.
“We brought you blood,” Taj said, indicating with his head.
A spark took to Biruk’s eyes, instantly encircling them in red.
The Nefrasi used to have four actis to feed them all—a man of seventy from the dying Abel House, a runaway husband and wife from Luroz House and Sada House, and a goth college student from Chamo House who had escaped from the Lusidios.
They’d take a couple drops from the acti available to them, hoping to find more. And it was torture.
He knew the hungriest of all his people, Biruk and Henok, had suffered the most. Even as human boys, they consumed one sheep between the two, an appetite that was near terrifying.
Arin nudged open the container to find the blood bags. “We want actis. Not curdled blood in a bag.” She frowned.
Taj scoffed. “Do you want us to die?”
Dark red was coloring Susenyos’s vision, his claws itching to break free. Actis weren’t easy to come by.
“Is your loyalty to the Nefrasi?” Arin asked coldly.
He was going to kill her.
“Yes,” he gritted out.
“Then this is nothing. Samson has promised them live actis soon. Everyone in Uxlay. Either they will offer themselves, or he will take them by force.”
Susenyos’s fingers balled into fists, it took everything not to lash out. “We don’t force actis.” Susenyos’s harsh tone surprised even him. “We’re not Lusidio.”
Arin regarded him carefully and for a moment, something shifted in her gaze. “The Nefrasi must feed to become a strong army. Bring fresh actis. At least four.”
Taj shook his head wildly. “That’s a suicide mission. We can only get blood bags.”
Susenyos gave Arin a hard glance. “Even if I got live actis, you never drink from the flesh. Why now?”
Arin had her own black flask. Once, Susenyos had touched it and she’d broken his arm. She didn’t share blood nor feed in front of him.
“You said blood bags were for roaches. Are we suddenly insects?” Arin said coldly, inspecting her black claws.
Susenyos regretted his words. He understood the defiance and pride in Henok’s eyes. Decades ago, they’d been supported well by many actis, fed and ate like kings.
“It will be difficult to access actis. Andreyas has the Sicions well trained,” Susenyos said.
Surprisingly, Arin smiled. Not in the bone-chilling way she did before she cleaved someone in half, but like he’d told a joke. “Andreyas. The name of a humble shepherd. Does he lead Uxlay, then?”
“He’s the dean’s companion.” Her face soured at that word but Susenyos continued. “He’s old. Maybe older than you. I wouldn’t challenge him.”
“You’ve lost your confidence along with your loyalty.”
His jaw tightened. “There are laws in Uxlay.”
“Since when do they govern us?”
He glanced at the ceiling, searching for patience. Uxlay’s laws were a noose around his neck and it made his skin tight to defend them.
“This Andreyas, if he’s old as you say, may know where the Death artifact is,” she said, a dangerous curve to her voice.
“You’d have an easier time drawing blood from stone. If he senses your threat to Uxlay, he will destroy you.”
A flame sparked in her gaze. “Nothing you haven’t tried to do.”
Over the last two centuries, Susenyos had tried to kill Arin four times. She always survived. He had the feeling he’d try again this year.
“Fine,” he heard himself say, ignoring Taj’s surprised sound. “I will bring in new acti to feed the Nefrasi—those willing and eager. But we will never become like Lusidio. Never.”
Arin gave him a thin smile, something like approval in her eyes. “Your choice to hide within this pitiful campus may finally serve a purpose.”
“I want to speak to all of them first,” he demanded. “Where is the Nefrasi hideout?”
“Once you prove yourself fully.” She looked down her nose at him, skilled in the art of making everyone insignificant.
Susenyos commended himself for not lunging for her throat. Still, he didn’t break his wrathful gaze until the three faded into shadows. Then Susenyos leaned heavily on the windowsill, sweat breaking out along his forehead.
His fangs were becoming too sensitive against his own tongue.
“You need to drink her blood,” Iniko said firmly.
Susenyos released a pained laugh. “I’ve ruined myself.”
The irony of it all wasn’t lost on him. He was hunting the artifacts so he could wield power and free himself from Lusidio, yet here he was binding himself to a girl who once wanted to kill him. Perhaps still did.
Susenyos didn’t remember getting back to his quarters, though he suspected Iniko and Taj carried him there.
He removed his shirt and slipped into bed, staring at the ceiling.
It was too quiet. The soundproof walls were built shortly after vampires complained about the unending stream of water in the Bath of Arowa, the night parties and feedings.
But he was searching for a specific heartbeat—hers.
Misery ached in his fangs. He hadn’t been able to sleep well since the day he left Adane House.
He didn’t think it was possible to both miss and loathe a place.
Yet Adane House lay suspended between the two.
He missed the room he’d tailored to himself, the sun reaching in like a goddess’s touch to wake him from deep sleep.
Most hated the piercing ray of a morning sun, but he adored it.
Lay half naked and let it sear into him like a white blade.
It was the only time of day he felt her.
The Sage he kept seeing at the moment of near death.
He’d extend his hand into the warmth, sunlight weaving through his fingers, reaching and trying to catch what he could not.
Run and live. Her soft voice had haunted him since the first time he heard it, familiar yet foreign. Find your strength.
The scent of ink and paper from the scrolls would wash over him gently then. And he would lose himself a little in those he didn’t abandon. Those he was strong for.
Most of all, though, he missed the study lounge where he could open “Letter to the Immortal” deliveries by the dreaded fireplace, glancing up to see Kidan’s frustrated face as she struggled with Dranacti, drawing those curious shapes.
She’d made herself part of his house, part of his mind without his permission, and now he couldn’t picture that room without her.
Only now everything was bleak. The pain and loss of his vampirism made the sun in his room heatless, bleached the scent of his letters, and made Kidan slip out of his grasp.
Susenyos had knelt before his father king once, yet that house brought him to his knees again.
He felt as he had back then. Weak, begging like a child for a lesser punishment.
There was fear too—knee buckling and familiar—that Samson would discover his secret and rip out his heart.
He was of better use outside. Strong.
When he did sleep, the dream that visited him was always the same. It started with a forest, a girl dying, and infected earth bleeding black.
Tonight, it was different.
He dreamed of Kidan. The suppleness of her skin, the way her curves fit neatly into his palms as her voice poured into him.
He imagined walking out of his rooms right now and following her intoxicating scent.
He could find it easily among the corridors and turns: broken oak and a hint of crushed rose.
A heady creation meant to torture him. She would be asleep in a corner of the library, her soft face buried in books and avoiding the house like him.
He wouldn’t feel the floor as he glided to her.
His claws, already emerged, would move aside her braids.
The hunger in him twisted and knotted.
Endless.