Chapter 16
16
Recovered Journal of Dr. Georgia Clark
May 11, Year 1, Emergence Era
The three vampire blood types are the same, at least on the surface. A new species. I can’t track them, can’t compare them to the vast wealth of knowledge I have at my fingertips. Our experiments are shots in the dark, and we’re all so tired. We’re losing Aang. He’s withdrawing more and more each day that he can’t get in touch with Idrine. I know the feeling, the distance, the loss of someone who knows your ins and outs. But I can’t share any of that with Aang. Not when my lost person may be the reason his person is lost, too.
C oal stops short.
Valen appears at my side as if from the ether, his face stern. “Don’t speak,” he says as he takes my elbow.
I wasn’t planning on it.
He pulls me forward so roughly I lose my footing. Keeping me upright with ease, he drags me through the crowd that once again parts for him. His touch is rough, uncaring. Some of the vampires snicker, others leer. I can’t clock all of them, not when Valen is half-dragging me to Gregor.
The rear of the ballroom has a short staircase leading to a stage, perhaps where a band is intended to set up. The musicians aren’t here. Gregor is, sitting on a crooked throne with a wine glass in his hand. I’ve no doubt the red liquid inside is blood.
“This is a celebration, my friends!” Gregor continues, his voice brittle like a dry, fallen leaf. “We have struck mighty blows against the human scourge, the masses of rats that bite and scurry if given a chance. We won’t let them escape. We will rid the world of their filth, one by one until they breathe their last.”
The scent of death wafts to my nose as Valen pulls me closer, my heels scraping against the wood floor. We stop at the bottom stair, and Valen forces me to my knees. A moaning wail comes from behind me, and then Vince is tossed onto the steps, his bloody body landing with a sickening crunch.
I reach for him, but Valen grips my hair, holding me in place, crushing the curls Melody so meticulously created. Death is all around me, in the air, on the faces of the vampires who watch, in Gregor’s eyes. If my stomach wasn’t already empty, there’s a good chance I’d vomit. Instead, my stomach churns, acid in my throat as I try to keep breathing. My hatred of everyone in this room might be the only thing that’s keeping me alive right now.
A female clad in gauzy crimson draped across her chest and her hips, the rest of her pale brown skin bare, sidles up to the throne and sits at Gregor’s feet.
I stare at her, recognition flaring in my mind. “Fatima?” The name falls from my lips.
Her eyes are pale now, not the deep brown I remember, and her hair is free in long waves that flow around her shoulders.
“Nice to see you, Georgia.” She smiles, her fangs almost dainty behind her lips, painted a deep plum.
Gregor strokes her hair like a pet dog, and she leans into his touch, her catlike eyes still on me. Fatima—she was Juno’s aide. We were, if not friends, close acquaintances. How many times did we share a table at dinner time in the governor’s mansion? She was like family. I thought she was dead with all the others, but here she sits. Whole but changed. No longer human. A creature that lounges at the foot of evil and purrs contentedly.
“And yours, Lord Corvidion?” Gregor asks and sips his blood. Something falls off the side of his throne and makes a squelching thud as it hits the floor.
It draws my focus, the shape of it. Long and pale like a fish belly. One with … toes. My chest tightens as I realize it’s a severed foot. I rip my gaze from Gregor and stare at his throne. My gorge rises anew, my breath catching in my throat as I realize what it is. His crooked throne is bodies. A pile of bodies stacked and arranged—some tied with rope, some leaning precariously, and some dismembered entirely to fit into the crevices. I cringe away, but Valen’s hold on my hair tightens, stinging my scalp and forcing me to remain where I am.
“High Lord Dragonis.” Coal bows, his wings tucked tightly to his back. “I believe you killed my spoils back in the Black Cavern.”
Gregor, his skin white, the veins bulging in darkened lines, looks up as if he’s trying to recall. Then he gives a short bark of a laugh. “Ah yes, I remember. You should’ve asked for another. Sadly, I’m running out of humans these days.” He smiles, his yellowed fangs elongating.
Fatima gives a little laugh, her fingers tracing across her chest. The sheer fabric of her dress gives a clear view of her dark nipples, her body bare in a way that strikes a discordant note with her former modesty. Is she still her? The coldness in her gaze says she isn’t, that she’s something else. Transformed not only on the outside, but inside too. No vestige of humanity left.
Coal bows again.
“And yours, Lady Carlotta?”
“A very gracious gift, high lord.” Carlotta, the vicious blonde, curtsies.
Gregor raises a white brow. “He certainly doesn’t look it.”
“That’s because we’ve been having so much fun together.” Carlotta kicks Vince to his back and presses her foot to his chest. “Haven’t we?”
Vince moans, his eyes rolling back in his head. Carlotta drags him down the steps, and I’m thankful he’s unconscious, that he can’t feel any of it. Not yet.
“Yours is looking quite well, Valen. Quite well, indeed.” Gregor’s cold eyes flick to me. “Stand her up. Let me get a good look.”
Valen grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet, then forces me to stand in front of him.
Gregor looks me up and down slowly, then takes a long draw from his glass. “How does she taste?”
“Like a human,” Valen answers, bored again.
Gregor leans forward. “Is that all?” He tsks. “I don’t think so. I may have been a bit too hasty with her last time. Giving her to you when I should’ve kept her. She looks delicious, doesn’t she? What do you think, Fatima?”
“Good enough to eat.” She licks one of her fangs, her gaze raking up and down my body.
“Yes, I should’ve taken you for myself.” His eyes bore into me. “You’d have fewer fingers of course and no tongue. And your eyes, a lovely shade, I’d have those for dessert.”
I press my knees together to keep myself upright. Fatima rises and walks down the stairs, her hips swaying as she locks eyes with me. There’s something in her gaze that’s threatening, feral even. Her fingertips ghost along my arm as she whispers past and disappears into the crowd behind me.
“Alas, you belong to my Lord Specter now.” Gregor’s gaze returns to Valen. “And what have you learned from her. What of Theo?”
“I’ve inspected her memories, such as they are. There is nothing in them concerning Theo. She barely has any recollection of her work on the cure. I suspect she didn’t play as pivotal of a role as we were led to believe.” I can hear the sneer in his voice. “She only gained her place at the lab because of who her sister was. The others did the actual work.”
“The others?” Gregor asks.
“The ones who attempted to flee DC. We destroyed their convoy before they ever reached Atlanta. Our human spy tells me only two remain alive, and soon enough, we’ll have them for questioning.”
Human spy? He must mean the redhead from the garden. From what I heard, they didn’t sound particularly forthcoming with information. In fact, they seemed more like enemies than collaborators. But what do I know of spies?
Gregor stares at Valen for long moments, time passing without Gregor so much as blinking. I shiver, my skin cold and my heart on ice. If Valen has a spy higher up in the human ranks, how can we fight back? We’ll never get ahead of them. Never have a chance at survival if someone is blocking us at every opportunity.
“Whitbine!” Gregor snaps so unexpectedly that I jump, my scalp smarting where Valen still holds my hair tightly.
“My lord.” Whitbine appears to my right and gives a deep bow.
“What of her memories?”
“She has recounted everything from her time here with utter clarity. There is no mental defect that would keep her from giving me the details of her time before captivity. However, she is unable to do so.”
“Unable or unwilling?” Gregor drums his long fingernails on the arm of his throne. A cheek. A person’s cheek, their eyes gone gray and dull, dried blood crusted where their nose was shattered.
“I assure you she cannot fight the compulsion. She’s only a human.”
“You’ve failed me yet again.” Gregor hurls his glass at Whitbine, striking him in the face. The glass shatters, shards littering the floor.
Whitbine only blinks, bits of his blood welling from cuts on his nose, his white tuxedo shirt turning crimson to match his bow tie. “As I suggested before, my lord, I believe she may have been tampered?—”
“Do you have any evidence of this tampering?” Gregor thunders.
“Not yet. But I would like to request that the Lord Specter allow me to interrogate her alone and more frequently. I feel that his presence may possibly be interfering with her ability to focus solely on my requests of her memory. Also, a prolonged compulsion may yield better results.”
I stiffen and clutch my hands together. At least Valen has made Whitbine cut his tortures somewhat short. If he’s given free access to me, I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t know if I’ll be able to withstand it.
“Are you accusing Valen of tampering with her mind?” Gregor asks carefully.
“Oh, no, my lord. Of course not,” Whitbine crows.
“Specter, what have you to say for yourself?” Gregor’s tone rises, furor in the hollows of his cheeks and eyes.
“If Whitbine seeks to cast aspersions, I suggest he look inward.” Snide and clipped, Valen continues, “He is the one who damaged her mind beyond repair. The only one who had access to her for the weeks she was in the Black Cavern’s dungeon. If anyone tampered with her, it was him.”
Whitbine steps closer to the throne. “My lord, I assure you?—”
“Silence!” Gregor’s voice cuts through the air surer than any blade. I wince, leaning back until I’m against Valen’s unforgiving form.
“Someone has betrayed me. I know it now for certain.” He surveys the crowd. There isn’t a sound, not a single breath from the huge ballroom. “Which of you was it? Blood Corvidion?” His gaze returns to Coal. “You’ve sought my death for centuries upon centuries. Have you finally achieved it by destroying my only heir?” He gnashes his teeth.
Coal drops to one knee and bows his head. “Corvidion is loyal, High Lord. We would not betray you.”
“Nice words.” Gregor rises and walks down the steps, his movements jerky. “But empty. All of them.”
Coal doesn’t move even when Gregor is standing right in front of him.
“Lady Tantun!” Gregor snaps, then appears in front of Carlotta in a blink.
She drops into a low bow. “Blood Tantun awaits your orders. We will slay the humans and praise you as we do it.”
“More pretty words.” Gregor looks down at her with disdain.
“And you.” Gregor materializes in front of me, his eyes focused on Valen at my back. “What of you, Valen? You’ve failed to avenge Theo. Failed to find his killer. Failed to bring honor to my line. Did you think killing Theo would elevate you? You? A halfbreed ?” Gregor’s arm shoots out, his cold palm wrapping around my throat. He squeezes, cutting off my air as he lifts me off my feet. “ You were the one sent to mind this human, were you not? You!” he yells, his fangs only inches from my face. “Has your weak human side won out finally? Have you chosen to die with these animals?”
I reach up to grab Gregor’s arm, to try to get air, but Valen snatches my wrists and pins them behind my back.
I can’t move. My lungs burn. I can’t breathe. A tiny whimper escapes, but nothing else.
“My lord.” Valen’s voice is even. “If this human has the information you seek, I will bleed it from her. No matter her refusal, no matter Whitbine’s incompetence.” His hold tightens. “I will never allow her to escape me. Her body, her mind, her secrets—they are mine .”
“Yet you have no answers.” Gregor squeezes tighter.
My vision blackens, my mind blanking.
“Not to sound impertinent, my lord, but I’ve been razing the human world at your command as well as executing your enemies within our own ranks. Give me more time with the prisoner, and I will grant you the results you seek.”
I go limp. Dark. Silent. I float along, a leaf on a still pool of cool wate—My lungs fill with a searing pain, and I gasp in air. Gregor is a few paces away, his hands in the air, and Valen holds me up as I regain consciousness. I’m still his marionette, moving only when he pulls my strings.
He shakes me, and I gulp in more air.
“Georgia—” Vince reaches for me as Carlotta drags him away through the ballroom.
My throat is raw. I can’t speak, can’t do anything except watch as he disappears, only his blood left behind.
“—lesson must be taught.” Gregor’s voice rings tinny and hollow in my ears as my senses come back.
Head woozy, legs uncertain, I stare at Gregor as he motions for someone. A vampire hoists a long spear of some sort and hands it to Gregor. His white skin smokes and sizzles where he touches it. “My betrayer is here among you.” With a flash of impossible speed he returns to the top of the stairs and slams the silver spike into the wood floor, driving it deep.
A murmur goes through the room at my back.
“Though I may not know which of you it is, I can give you a small sample of what awaits you once you’re discovered.”
There’s a slight scuffling sound behind me, and then someone is dragged up the steps between two vampires. Their body is limp, the crimson of their gown trailing behind and whispering across the floor. It’s a vampire. Finally, Gregor is going to take out his wrath on one of his own. Good. I want to see one of them die. I want them to suffer. I want to know it’s possible to kill them. This is a stroke of luck, a small dose of vengeance.
Valen puts one hand at my sore throat, the other at my waist, locking me against him. He’s almost vibrating with tension.
Gregor grabs the woman’s head and pulls her upright.
My heart lurches. The beautiful hair coiled into a crown, the smooth brown skin. I know her immediately. Melody.
Melody is on the grisly stage, her face marked with slashes, her eyes swollen almost shut. Valen wraps his palm around my mouth as I stare up at her, at the only kind vampire I’ve ever known. She looks right at me, her warm brown eyes steady despite the pain she must be in.
“No objections?” Gregor asks, his mocking eyes on Valen.
Valen remains silent, his entire form rigid, his hand tight over my mouth.
Tears well and run down my cheeks, and still, Melody holds my gaze. Unwavering. Strong. Only when Gregor takes her by the hair does her focus shift above me. To Valen.
With more strength than his withered body should possess, Gregor lifts her over his head, then slams her down on the silver stake, impaling her through her heart. No fanfare. No acknowledgement of taking a life. Just pure brutality.
She screams, the sound so full of anguish it rips apart every wound I’ve ever had. She shudders violently. Once. Twice. Her eyes going black, her mouth still open in a scream. And then she stills, her body sliding down the silver spear until she lies unmoving at Gregor’s feet.
Valen’s hand slips from my mouth. I don’t scream. I do nothing. Nothing . I let her die. Valen let her die. There’s a roar in my ears, a howling of wind and malice and icy hate. Impotent rage. Smothering me slowly with each dead body stacked on top, everyone I’ve ever cared for arranged like kindling for a fire that no one will see, no one will mourn, no one. No one. No one.
“—in. Yes, bring them in!” Gregor shouts, snapping me back, his reedy voice indulgent now. “No more matters of state. Only matters of feasting.” He gives a cold, toothy smile.
Two wide doors to my right open. Faces. So many faces.
“No.” My voice is hoarse, barely there.
People. Naked and bruised, some of them crying, others in near catatonia as they stare around. Not just adults, children too, a little girl screaming and clinging to a man’s arm. The terror in her cries breaks me.
“No,” I say it louder and try to fight Valen off, to get to her. To save her. That’s my calling, that’s always been my calling— saving lives. Helping.
“Stay still.” He wraps his arm across my shoulders in a brutal hold.
“No!” I claw at his arm as the horde of monsters encircles the humans, more of them pouring through the doors, pushed forward by the vampire guards at their backs.
“Music!” Gregor yells as he approaches me, then gives a small, stately bow. “May I have this dance?”
And then he has me clutched against his chest, spinning me onto the dance floor as the people scream and scream as they’re murdered. Violated. Dismembered for sport.
Gregor grins at me, his wiry body moving to the music as he lifts me effortlessly. “I’ve always loved music. It’s one of the small joys of this life, don’t you think?”
I can’t speak. Not because of compulsion, but because of the knot in my throat. The screams grow louder. A vampire drags a woman into the alcove I’d been standing in. She wails then goes suddenly silent as he tears her throat out, blood splashing the crimson banner.
Then Gregor spins me again and again. I get glimpses of horror with each turn, each dip and sway of the music. Bodies ripped and shredded. Tears unheeded. I don’t see the little girl. I don’t hear her anymore, either. She’s gone.
“My Theo loved music, too. You’ve seen his piano?” He waltzes faster, spinning us through the open dance floor. “He could play so beautifully it was almost as if he had a soul. You would’ve cried to hear it.” His eyes flash. “But your kind stole him from me, him and all his beauty.”
Blood splatters across us in an arterial spray. I don’t see where it comes from. It doesn’t matter. They’re all going to die. We’re all going to die.
He feigns concern. “You think my vengeance is unwarranted?”
I don’t answer. His questions aren’t for me.
“That’s because you don’t understand legacy. Humans never will. Your short, empty lives are meaningless. Not ours. Not Theo’s.” His claws dig into my side, and I bite my tongue to keep from crying out. “His death changed the world. His death changed everything . All your fates rested on him. And what did you do? You killed him like the swine you are. It’s a common theme among you animals, kill the most beautiful, the purest thing you can find. That’s what Theo was. Did you know his mother was my sister? He was pure . Every bit of our family line culminated in him, his perfection. He was my Blood!” He grows feral for a moment, then turns conspiratorial. “I suppose you think we’re even somehow?” He tsks. “As if a human life could ever equal an immortal one.”
Not understanding, I finally look into the pitiless depths of his eyes. I don’t want to understand him. To understand a creature like him means sharing something, some sort of connection, some sort of empathy. There can be none. It is his destruction or mine.
“I mean Juno, of course,” he says it like a teacher to an exasperating student. “When Valen killed your sister, it was to me like the squashing of a loathsome bug.” He shrugs. “It didn’t change anything. She was the president of this entire foolish country, and it still meant nothing . Because humans are nothing. You are nothing.”
Valen killed Juno. Until this moment, I didn’t know how it happened. She was gone, that was all I needed to know. I didn’t want to think of her being dead. It was only the abstract, the bloodless version of death. Gone. Unreachable. But this … this is so much worse.
He smirks, his smile growing even more predatory. “You didn’t know it was Valen? Quite the bloody affair. She’d been torn to slivers while still alive. Valen is quite skilled at eliciting pain. The best I’ve ever seen. I’ve often pondered the reason is in his blood. His human weakness gives him insight into your suffering and how best to inflict it. Wouldn’t you agree, Doctor ?” he taunts.
I blink away tears, but they flow anyway. Just as the blood flows all around me. Unstoppable. The walls and floors and mouths unquenchable.
“Oh, well. Enough dark talk, yes? This is, after all, a party.” He opens his mouth and slices his tongue against his fang. Then he bites my throat. It burns, tearing through my veins like razors. I barely react, my invisible wounds so much deeper than anything Gregor has done to me.
“Dance.” He stops and backs away a step. “Dance for me and me alone.”
My head swims, but my body obeys. I sway to the music, pirouetting when he spins his finger in a slow circle.
“Come.” He takes my waist again. “Dance with me like a lover. Dance like you fuck. Dance like you’re desperate to fuck me.”
I taste bile as I wrap my arms around his neck and press my body to his.
“Slower!” he snarls at the orchestra.
The tempo drops, and he sways with me, his hands at my waist, then at my back. I feel every sinewy bit of him, his cold flesh against mine, his fetid breath on my cheek.
“I should’ve kept you.” He whispers in my ear, then rips my earlobe with his fang as I scream. “Maybe I will.”