Chapter 26
26
Recovered Journal of Dr. Georgia Clark
June 7, Year 1, Emergence Era
Wyatt’s playlists are getting more unhinged. I keep wondering if there’s some way I could just ‘accidentally’ fall onto his vinyl collection. Kidding! I’m only kidding. (But am I though?) In other news, we’ve made zero progress on the virus, the power keeps going off, and I’m worried the generator isn’t going to come on one of these times. At least Gene found some jam the other day. His limp is better, too. So I guess that’s a kind of progress. *sigh*
I sneeze. The dust in this library is enough to open anyone’s sinuses. Or clog them. The books I’ve plucked from the shelves sit in a neat pile on the edge of the table. I’ve given up sneaking around. No one seems to care that I spend a lot of time in here, though David does complain here and there that he’d rather be anywhere else in the castle. Still, he hangs around in the seating area or haunts the rooms nearby while I dig through the tomes.
“Done? I feel like you’re done,” he calls for the third time today.
“No.” I finish making a stack of the few books in English, then set off into the shelves again to see if I can somehow find another copy of one of the same books but in Romanian. If I can find some way to make a cipher, I could actually get some use from the books on vampire bloodlines, history—on everything in here.
“What’s this?” Valen’s voice curls through the air like a tendril of smoke.
I lean back and spot him standing at the table, his fingers running along the spines of the books I’ve chosen. “Books.”
He looks up at me. “How droll.” He sounds anything but amused.
“If you must know, I’m trying to create a cipher so I can read these books. I can’t do anything else in this upside-down hell, so I may as well work on figuring out what makes vampires tick so I can then reverse engineer a way to murder you all.” I drop two more books in English on my stack.
The corner of his lips quirks into his familiar smirk. “Quite ambitious of you.”
“I’ve always been aces at research.” I stare up at him, daring him to try to stop me.
“Are you certain of that?” He turns and strides away into the stacks.
I lose him in the dark, then sit down and wait for him as I organize another stack of possible contenders in Romanian. From the corner of my eye, I catch movement in the dark, uppermost recesses of the library. Turning, I peer through the shadows, barely making out Valen’s shape as he scales the stacks with ease. He’s half-floating, half-climbing, as if he only needs to contact the shelves to control his direction. I gawk as he disappears into the full gloom.
“What the fuck?” I whoosh out in a breath.
He appears at my elbow, a book in his hand. “Try this one.”
“Ah!” I jerk back. “You were … Were you flying?”
“Have I finally impressed you?” He smirks and proffers the book. “Here.”
“What is it?” I take it.
“A—what did you call it? A cipher .” He taps the cover. “Romanian and English. Not, of course, the ancient tongue, but close enough.”
I gape at him. “Hang on, I think I’m having an aneurysm or something. Are you helping me?”
“All you had to do was ask, little rabbit. Or did your pride stop you from doing so? What with all your acumen at research?” His smirk turns even more snide.
I clutch the book to my chest. Finally, something helpful.
“Leave it. We’re going outside.”
“No way.” I tuck it into the second makeshift tote bag of my design and follow him out of the library. “It’s about five o’clock in the afternoon right now?”
“Yes.”
I expect him to comment on how I’m able to tell time in a place with no clocks, but he doesn’t seem the least bit impressed.
“Sun still up?” I ask.
“Yes. For a short while.” He moves the lever in the elevator, and we rise to the surface.
I all but run out into the daylight, the warmth on my skin at war with the chill in the air. How long has it been since I’ve felt the sun? I don’t know, but the answer will always be ‘too long.’
Valen keeps pace with me easily, and I slow down when I come to Melody’s monument.
“Hi.” I kiss my fingers, then press them to the top of the stone.
Valen stops beside me.
“I asked David if you had this made. He said he didn’t know—a common answer from him. But, I mean, you must have.” I turn to look at him.
He nods, his gaze on the words carved into the marble.
“It’s beautiful.”
“She deserved more,” he says curtly. “More than …” He doesn’t finish the sentence, just lets it fade.
I don’t disagree. We stand for long moments, the air still and cold. I’d like to think Melody was here with us, but that’s selfish. She should be at peace or maybe onto her next life. I don’t know—the same way that no one knows.
“You come here often,” he finally says.
“How did you know?”
“The turf.” He gestures toward the flattened patch of grass.
“Oh.” I shrug. “Yeah.”
“She would’ve liked that.” He clasps his hands behind his back, his gaze far away now as he looks toward the ridge. The setting sun casts a golden glow over the land. And over him, giving him a warmth he would eschew.
“She told me about how you found her. How you—” I tangle my fingers together. “—how you saved her.”
He barks a harsh, ugly laugh. “A whole lot of good I did her.”
“I don’t think?—”
“Come. Get your fresh air, little rabbit.” He turns and strides away into the brambles.
I stare after him. For so long I blamed him for not saving her. But the look in his eyes right then—a tortured sort of grief. I recognize it. Like knows like, after all.
I wander away, pausing at the fountain then venturing into the orchard. It looks different in the day, even in the fading light, I see so much more detail. The mystery of nighttime is gone and the starkness of winter on full display. Valen is out of sight, so I take my usual path around the garden, inspecting everything with new eyes thanks to the sunlight.
“She told me about your mother. The statue of her.” I speak at regular volume again, knowing he can hear me even if I can’t see him. “She seemed so … brave. Braver than anyone I’ve ever known. Strong, too. She protected herself, and then she protected you. I think … I think Melody told me about her so that I could see you differently.”
“Did it work?” He appears in the next row of trees, his dark hair shining black as the sun fades away.
“Yes and no.”
“Enlighten me.” He walks alongside me, though one row of trees separates us.
“Nothing deep. Just that you have a human side, one you don’t claim. One I rarely see. But it’s in there.”
“I think she was taking a rather rosy view of me if that’s what you came away with.”
“No, like I said, she didn’t change all my thoughts about you. You’re a murderer.”
“Ah, so true.” He smiles, the fake one. The cold one. I see it in the last light.
“You do whatever Gregor tells you to do.”
“With pride.” He nods.
“But you have a secret part of you.”
“Is that so?” he mocks.
“Yes. I’m sure of it now.”
“Melody, ever faithful to me, led you down the primrose path. She looked kindly upon me as her sire, so she wanted to share that with you. You ate it up. I should’ve rewarded her for it.”
I stop and turn to him. “I’m not falling for it.”
“For what?” He faces me.
“For this.” I wave my hand at him. “This one note farce that you?—”
“Down!” He’s on top of me in the beat of a hummingbird’s wing.
The breath knocked from me, I cough as he covers me with his body, a shadow passing overhead. He bares his fangs, a feral look on his face, his gaze on the sky.
“It’s me,” someone calls.
“Fuck!” He gets to his feet then pulls me up.
Coal lands outside the orchard, his black wings smoking the slightest bit.
“What are you doing?” Valen scowls.
“I came as soon as I heard.” Coal barrels through the trees, his wings clipping branches, twigs flying.
“Heard what?”
“Gregor has summoned us.”
“Does that require you to fry?” Valen swats at Coals smoking shoulder. “You could’ve waited.”
Coal shakes his head. “No. He wants you to bring her.”
Valen stills, and I could swear the air turns colder, my breath coming out in a fog.
“Now?”
“Immediately.”
“Fuck!” Valen roars.
I jump at the fury of it, and a flock of some winter bird takes flight from the next orchard over.
“Go,” he barks at Coal. “We shouldn’t arrive together.” Valen takes my hand and pulls me along the row with him.
I hear the thump of Coal’s wings as he takes flight and swoops over us, his silhouette against the rising moon, the magic of it an all-too-brief distraction.
“Why?” I stumble over a tree root, but Valen keeps me upright. “Why does he want to see me?”
“He knows I haven’t made progress, and Whitbine is dead.”
“He doesn’t know—” I gasp as it hits me. “He’ll find out. He’ll compel me. H-he’ll ask and—” I dig my heels in. “You can’t take me to him.”
“You don’t have a choice.” He wraps his arm around my waist and half carries me to the elevator. “Neither do I.”
My knees are jelly as I lean against the elevator wall. “He’ll see what you did. He’ll kill you.”
“Worried for me?” he asks.
Déjà vu hits me hard, and I catch a glimpse of a memory. Valen. He’s asked me that before. In DC. Before—the sharp stab between my eyes makes me drop the thread. And then it’s gone, as if floating away like the spool to a kite caught by the wind and sent flying, a hapless child chasing slowly behind.
“What?” He peers at me as the elevator keeps dropping, not halting where it usually does. “What is it?”
“I had a …” I don’t know what I had. I can’t remember it. “The elevator can go farther down?” I ask instead.
“Always the most observant little rabbit.” He smirks.
“You know what’s on the lower levels, don’t you?” I edge closer to him.
His eyes widen, actual alarm showing in them before he hides it with his usual stoicism. “Do tell.”
“Husks.”
“Mmm.” He looks up as if beyond exasperated. “And how did you discover that?”
“You said I could explore, so I explored.” I shrug.
He takes a deep breath, as if it requires every bit of his patience to speak to me. “And you failed to mention it to either David or me?”
“I guess I thought you knew.” Why am I getting defensive?
“I’ll have David destroy them when?—”
“No.”
“What?” He looks genuinely curious now. “Why not?”
“Because they’re victims. They didn’t choose to be that way. They were stolen and hurt and … And it’s not their fault. But, I mean, if they have to go, do it humanely. Gently, even.”
I’ve never seen him so utterly flummoxed. It would be amusing if we weren’t currently on our way to an audience with Gregor. The reminder makes me shiver.
The elevator stops with a rough creak, and Valen slides the accordion grate open. I don’t move. Beyond is utter darkness, and I remember the dank smell. We’re in the tunnels, the same place where Whitbine—I wring my hands and back away from the opening. “I can’t.”
“Come along.”
“No.” My blood pounds in my ears, the darkness beyond the elevator growing and threatening to swallow me. “I can’t.”
“You must.” He steps beside me and pulls one of my hands free, then tucks it in his.
“No.” I can’t breathe. I’m drowning.
He steps in front of me, his free hand on my cheek. “Breathe.”
“I can’t.” I gasp.
“Georgia.”
The way he says my name is jarring. I take in a breath. Then another.
“Look at me.” His thumb strokes my cheek, his skin so warm.
I look up.
“You can do this.”
I shake my head.
“Let it go.” He leans closer. “You have to let it go.” His voice is gentler than I’ve ever heard it, nothing more than the faintest brush of a raven’s wings. I remember it.
“You were there.” I clutch his hand. “I-In my room after the nightmare. It was you.”
“You can do this.” He pulls me haltingly from the elevator, my body trembling, my legs threatening to give out.
“I’m scared,” I whisper and walk alongside him, hewing close to his side.
“I know.” He squeezes my hand.
More steps into the black, more horrible memories threatening to consume me.
“I can’t.” I slow my pace.
“We’re here. I’m going to lift you now.” He grips my waist and sits me down on a bench. Then I feel him beside me, his side pressed against me, his arm draped across the seat at my back.
The carriage, or cart, or train—I can’t tell what it is—begins to move with high pitched squeals of metal on metal. I huddle closer to Valen. His arm at my back wraps around, his hand on my shoulder. Then I feel his chin on top of my head, tucking me close as the carriage rocks, brief flashes of sparks showing black walls looming close on both sides. I’d rather not see, not know, so I close my eyes and let Valen, Gregor’s executioner, hold me tight.
I don’t know how long we travel, but when the carriage slows and stops, I open my eyes. Pale light shines from somewhere far above, barely illuminating the track that continues into the inky black.
A vampire stands guard at an archway ahead of us, the top of it formed by fanged skulls.
“Lord Specter.” The guard bows as we pass.
Valen, no longer holding my hand, leads the way, his black trench coat flying out behind him. I keep up, and I notice him glancing at me over his shoulder every so often.
We come to two more vampires, each of them standing at attention. “Lord Specter,” they say in unison, deference in their tones.
Valen ignores them and continues along the hall until he comes to a set of double doors. The vampires standing here bow then push them open.
Everything is happening so fast. I don’t have time to think, to panic, to run. I just follow Valen into the lion’s den.
“About fucking time!” Gregor’s voice snaps like a whip as we enter a wide room, the walls gilded, the floor gleaming white marble. A large desk is ahead of us, and Gregor sits behind it in a throne-like chair.
I stare at him, his veins even more sinewy and pronounced, his face like a death mask, skeletal and hollowed. Sores have erupted on his forehead and cheeks, angry red and black pustules. I’ve never seen anything like them.
Valen bows then grabs my arm and pulls me forward, forcing me to bow as well.
To the side, Coal stands and stares straight ahead. Carlotta, the Tantun vampire with the white hair, the one who tortured Vince, stands beside him, her smug gaze on me.
“Carlotta, I said to bring your human with you.” Gregor turns to her, the cords of his neck straining.
“Apologies, High Lord.” She dips her head. “He perished a month ago. I did my best to keep him alive, but he proved weak, as do all their kind.”
My hands fist, my impotent rage given a clear target. She murdered Vince, and she has the audacity to gloat about it.
Valen’s hand comes down on my shoulder.
“Weak. Yes.” Gregor’s gaze snaps back to Valen. “Would you call them weak, Specter? When they yet live? When you’ve failed to eradicate them despite my distinct command!” His voice rises, spittle flying from his lips. “They have fortified south of Atlanta. Regrouping! Why are they still alive?” he screeches.
“The humans are dying in droves, my lord. I carry out your orders. They fall before me like wheat before the scythe.”
“I want them dead!” Gregor snarls, then leaps the desk and grips Valen by the throat. Valen doesn’t move, his hand never wavering from my shoulder. “I could rip you to shreds right now. I should. For Theo. He should be here. Not you.” He bares his fangs. “Never you!”
I shudder at the ferocity in Gregor’s withered frame. His claws are curled and yellowed, drawing blood from Valen’s neck as he scowls at him.
“I understand, High Lord.” Valen lifts his chin, baring his neck further to Gregor.
Gregor makes a squeaking sound.
I can’t stop shaking, my bladder threatening to let go.
Gregor makes the sound again, and I realize it’s a wheezing laugh. Then he jumps backward like some sort of uncanny hyena and retakes his seat.
“You’ve much of me in you.” He licks one of his fangs. “But not enough. It will never be enough.”
Valen lowers his chin, utterly cool and undisturbed.
“And what of Whitbine?” Gregor settles back in his throne and picks at a sore on his cheek.
“He was the traitor, High Lord. Conspiring with Corvidion rebels—” Valen cuts a deadly look toward Coal. “—and feeding information to the enemy. Now that he is gone, we’ll be able to crush the humans beneath our heel.”
“You killed him yourself?” Gregor asks.
“I did.”
“My spies told me it was quite the brutal scene.” Gregor grins, his sunken cheeks clinging to his teeth.
“He deserved far worse for his betrayal, High Lord.”
“Indeed. You should’ve brought him before me!” He flicks some of the blood from his wound onto the floor.
A memory chases through my mind, blood on white marble. On this white marble. Someone screaming my name. Pain erupts in my forehead as Gregor continues, “But it is rather curious how you managed to catch him. After all, you never informed me of his traitorous leanings.”
“I acted on information from my human spy. If I hadn’t, then even more critical plans would’ve been in enemy hands.”
“You acted because you trust the humans?” Gregor asks, his tone turning sly.
“Of course not, but my contact is firmly under my control. He doesn’t breathe unless I compel him to do so.” Valen is clinical, direct. No emotion passes through him except the slightest hint of boredom.
“Easy, is it not?” Gregor says airily, his demeanor spinning like a weathervane during a tornado. “To bend them to our will. They’re nothing more than animals, ripe for slaughter.” He presses his claw so deeply into the wound on his cheek that the tip of it appears inside his mouth. “And this delectable animal here. Where are my answers, Valen? What happened to my son?” he hisses, his eyes narrowing.
“Whitbine tampered with her mind at every opportunity, compelling her to misremember details, forget events, and any number of tricks in an attempt to cover his tracks. He programmed her to lie and lie and lie.”
Gregor leans forward, his eyes almost glowing. “You believe Whitbine had something to do with Theo’s death?”
“I have no doubt of it. The only person who can tell us what happened to Theo is this human. She’s the key. I expect to have the answers from her soon, now that Whitbine is no longer tampering with her mind.”
“Bring her to me,” Gregor commands.
Valen takes my arm and pulls me around the desk until I’m standing beside Gregor’s throne, then pushes me to my knees.
“A pretty one. Still a pretty one.” Gregor traces a claw along my cheek. “Why didn’t I keep you?” He actually seems confused, his pale brows drawing together. Then his eyes snap back to me. With a quick movement he slices his wrist, then presses it to my mouth.
His bitter blood flows across my tongue, and I gag. Valen grabs my hair in a vicious grip, then puts his other hand at my throat, massaging it until I’m forced to swallow.
Gregor grins, his tongue darting out to wet his pale lips. “Now, girl, tell me what happened to Theo.”
Gregor’s blood isn’t Tantun, but it’s poison all the same. I writhe against Valen’s hold as it scorches through me. And when the words, “I don’t know” pour from me, I feel it burning like lava in my veins.
“Tell me what happened to my son!” Gregor screams in my face, black blood oozing from his sores.
“I don’t know,” I wail, the pain rising as I burn from the inside out.
“Pah!” Gregor shoves me back. “Useless human!”
Valen drags me away, hauling me around the desk and placing me on my knees.
“She is playing games. A student of her sister, I see. The same. All of them, all humans the same. Mud-dwellers crawling on their bellies.” He gnashes his teeth, his crazed eyes on me. “And you, are you enjoying your time at the Dragonis home?”
“No.” The truth burns through me.
Gregor cackles, amusement draping over him like cobwebs. “I should think not.”
“Surely there’s something within those walls you like?”
“I liked Melody until you murdered her.”
His face contorts into a black grin. “We danced, you and I. Waltzed right past her corpse. I should’ve fucked you on it.” His voice rises. “Tell me who killed my son!”
I try to answer him, to give him what he wants. My blood demands it. But I can’t. I can do nothing but suffer through the axe that’s splitting my skull as I scream, “I don’t know!”
Carlotta clucks her tongue and walks to me, the click of her heels like gunshots in my pounding head. “Whitbine was this powerful, was he? I didn’t realize he was of Gregor’s direct line.”
“He was not,” Gregor cries.
“Oh.” Carlotta feigns surprise. “Is that right? Hmm, it certainly seems that he had great power over this human, tampering with her mind so completely.” She bends down, her eyes level with mine, her white hair falling like a curtain over one shoulder. “To ruin her so fully.” Her gaze rises to Valen. “I would’ve thought it would require a pureblood Dragonis—” She smirks “—or someone close to it, to do such damage.”
“Thought?” Valen sneers. “Since when does anyone of Tantun blood have thoughts?”
Gregor barks a laugh, the sound like splintering wood as Carlotta straightens, murder in her eyes.
His laugh dies abruptly. “And you, Coal, where is your human?”
“Apologies, my lord.” Coal bows. “But I fear my human didn’t leave the Black Cavern alive.”
Gregor asked this already, at the ball. Has he forgotten?
“Ah. Yes, yes.” Gregor waves a hand at him. “I shall grant you another.”
A similar echo from an old conversation. Gregor is fading all over, his body and mind dying. The wild swings of temperament, the forgetting—how long does he have left?
Gregor slumps back, his thin body like a bent branch. “Get her out of my sight before I rip her spine from her body,” he says. “You have one week, Specter. One week. If you haven’t gotten the truth from her by then, I certainly will. And then I’ll add her body to the pile of humanity.”
“Yes, High Lord.” Valen pulls me up, his grip so tight on my shoulder that I swallow a whimper. With a rough push, he walks me from the room, my veins still burning with Gregor’s blood. I’m dazed, barely aware of the hallway, the vampire guards. I can’t feel anything but the flames, the itch in my veins that consumes me. Crawling with fire ants inside and out, I sit heavily on the rail car as Valen takes his seat next to me. Then we’re moving again, the darkness becoming complete again.
“Georgia.” His mouth is at my ear. “You’ll be all right. His compulsion will fade.”
I shiver so violently he wraps both his arms around me to keep me still. He’s warm. He shouldn’t be. Just as I shouldn’t be leaning on him for comfort. But I do. I have nothing else, no one else. Only my jailor, the vampire who’s overseen every ounce of my misfortune. It’s so sick and twisted, but that’s what I am now. So much so that I press my cheek to his chest and let him hold me. His heart beats with thumping strength. He’s alive. But not. I was hoping the books would be able to enlighten me on vampire physiology, but I only have a week to live. One week before Gregor takes what little I have left.
“You can’t let him—” I fight back a sob. “Promise me you’ll kill me before the week is out.”
He hears me over the creaking carriage and the rushing air. “It won’t come to that.”
“It will .” I clutch his shirt tightly. “Promise me.”
“Never,” he says it with a vehemence that verges on feral.
Then I’m lost. I can’t end it myself, and Valen refuses. My death won’t be swift, won’t be anything other than pure brutality. Gregor will crush everything in me before he lets me die.
I try to pull away from Valen.
He grips me tightly, his whisper fervent in my ear. “I won’t let him take you from me.”
“You can’t stop him. Melody told me you can’t directly disobey him. Your blood?—”
“ You’re my Blood!” He cups my cheek. “You, Georgia.”
“What?”
The carriage slows.
“There’s so much. I don’t know where to?—”
“Aww, a sweet moment between lovers.” Carlotta’s voice echoes around us.
Valen tenses.
“Gregor may believe your bullshit, but I don’t.”
The carriage stops with a squealing sound. Eyes wide, I try to find her in the complete black around us, but I can’t. I grip Valen’s arm.
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion.” Valen pulls me from the carriage.
“Give her to me, and I’ll have the answers from her before sunrise.” Her voice comes from everywhere all at once. “Or have you grown attached to your pet?” she taunts.
“That’s one consistent thing about you, Carlotta, you never fail to overestimate your ability.” Valen’s tone is nonchalant, but he holds my hand in a tight grip as we move through the suffocating dark. “Leave now, and I might let you live. I’m not certain, though. I’ve imagined your death quite a few times.”
“Thinking about me often, are you?” she asks coquettishly.
“Thinking about how nice your head would look on my mantle.”
“I see through you, Lord Specter. You and your lies. Whitbine wasn’t working with the humans. He was working with me . You killed him over this disgusting human swine.”
“I’m certain the high lord would love to hear all about your machinations with Whitbine. Is there anything else you’d like to confess?”
I jump when something brushes across my arm.
Valen moves faster, keeping me close at his side.
“Perhaps only one more thing.” I can hear the grin in her voice. “That little safehouse outside Atlanta, the one where you hid the CDC scientists?”
Valen’s grip tightens, and we’re all but running now.
“I raided it just last night. Your human spy was pathetically easy to track. I enjoyed killing everyone inside, especially when I realized they were working on a cure for the plague. It’s truly too bad that I destroyed every bit of equipment, then set it ablaze.”
There’s light ahead, the faintest glow and the familiar outline of the elevator’s accordion grate.
“Running from me, Lord Specter?” She laughs, the sound raking across my ears.
Valen shoves me into the elevator and yanks the grate closed from the outside. “Hit the lever.”
“What about you?” I ask.
“She’s not alone.” His face is in shadow, only his feline eyes glowing slightly. “I won’t risk you.”
“But—”
“Hit the lever, Georgia!” He turns and strips off his coat, tossing it to the ground.
Something flashes to his right, a vampire in the darkness. Valen dodges their blow, then rakes his claws across their neck. Blood sprays onto the grate, the metal reacting with a hiss.
“Georgia, go!” he bellows, then disappears into the midnight black.
Hisses and screams erupt. I can’t fight. If I try to, I’ll die. I know that as surely as Valen knows it. So I do the only thing I can: I turn the lever. The elevator creaks to life, the cable catching and lifting as more screams echo against the black stone. I stare, looking for any sign of Valen. There’s nothing, only the sounds of fighting and sometimes, the sounds of dying.
I’m almost out of the lower level and into the elevator shaft when the carriage shakes. I back into one corner and flatten my hands against the walls. Cold sweat trickles along my spine. Then I scream when something slams against the floor, indenting the metal.
Another hit, then another. There’s someone under me trying to tear their way through. Each hit dents the floor, a bubble forming in the center. The blows are relentless. I’m frozen, watching with utter terror as the next hit sheers off some of the metal and opens a hole. A black-clawed hand reaches through and begins to pull, enlarging the hole, not stopping despite the razor-edge of the torn metal.
I stomp down on the hand, but it grabs my shoe, the claws sinking in. Screaming, I yank my foot free right as the shoe is ripped through the hole, shredded as it goes.
I back away from the grasping hand. The carriage shakes more, the floor bowing in another section. They’re going to get inside, and I can’t stop them.
“Georgia!” David’s voice filters down from somewhere far above.
“David, help!” I scream.
Two bloody hands reach inside and grab the metal, peeling it back as I look for some way out. The blood sizzles, the bubbles a sickly green. I know instinctively I can’t let it touch me.
There’s no access to the roof of the elevator, no way out for me except through the door.
I can’t wait here and hope to reach the top level. They’ll be inside before I get there. Plastered to the wall, I reach across to the lever and hit it. The elevator slows to a stop, a dark hallway halfway visible through the grate. The hits intensify, the entire thing shaking.
Keeping to the wall, I move around and yank the grate open. The landing is above me, smooth black rock underneath. I’ll have to climb up. I eye the lever, wishing it was closer so I could send the carriage back down, but there’s no way I’ll be able to get out fast enough. Indecision is going to get me killed, so I grip the edge of the floor and pull myself up, rolling onto my back once I’m free of the carriage.
The pounding intensifies, the carriage shaking violently. I get to my knees, then my feet, and take off into the dark hallway. The slight bit of light from the elevator shaft quickly evaporates, and I’m forced to slow my pace. My hands out in front of me, I feel my way along, sticking to a wall as I follow it deeper into the dark. I listen for every tiny sound, but my thoughts wander to Valen. He’s outnumbered. Even if David makes it to him, there are still too many Tantun. Something sick twists in my stomach at the thought of him dying. I left him. He told me to run, and I did. Old Georgia would’ve never done it. She would’ve stayed to the bitter end for a friend. But Valen’s not a friend. He’s … I don’t know what he is. He might be dead. I might be on my own. Which would mean I’m dead, too. Just keep going .
The cold stone turns this way and that, the hallway utterly unfamiliar. I could be on the husk level or somewhere worse, if there even is a worse.
A faint hiss reaches me, every hair on my body standing on end, and I speed my pace, yelping when I run into a wall. My panic triples as I feel along it. What if this is a dead end? I slide my hand over the stone until I find a corner. A thimble full of relief is all I get as I take this new corridor, the claustrophobic darkness like a separate being, one that swallows me whole.
Another hiss, this one closer.
I find another corner, then another in quick succession. Am I going in a circle? I don’t know. All I know is that if I stop, I’m done. They’ll catch me, and I don’t know if their orders are to kill me or drag me to Carlotta.
My steps are too loud, even the scrape of my skin along the rock a burst of unnecessary sound. They’ll hear me. I know they’ll hear me, but I have to keep moving. If I can reach David, or somehow find a place to hide, Valen will reach me. The thought hits me with a steely certainty—Valen will come for me. I just have to stay alive long enough.
I turn another corner, the faintest light glowing down a long corridor. The landings, that must be where the light is coming from. Out in the main area of the castle. I break into a run, my heart pounding as I race toward the pale glow.
A shadow passes in front of it, and I skid to a stop.
“There she is.” Carlotta’s voice. “Just the rat I was looking for.” She strides toward me.
I back away, then dart down a side hall, then another. Turn after turn until I’m standing somewhere I’ve been before. This is where I discovered the black hole, the place where I might’ve gone if Valen hadn’t caught me.
“I can hear your heartbeat,” Carlotta’s voice is razor wire, shredding any rationality I might have. The only thought that remains is escape. I have to get away from her. But the darkness ahead of me is so absolute, so impossibly black that I wonder if it’s some sort of trick or a layer of midnight velvet. “I can’t wait to taste it,” she taunts.
“Fuck you!” I yell, my voice raw with hate.
Carlotta only laughs as she moves in for the kill. She’ll be on me at any moment.
“Georgia.” A voice. Not Carlotta’s. “Georgia, I hear you.”
I gasp, a tremor going through me as I clutch my hands to my chest.
“Come this way,” she whispers. “Don’t be afraid.”
“Another victim? Is that what I hear?” Carlotta is closer now. “How many humans does Valen keep in this bomb shelter?”
“Georgia, now! Hurry!”
I put a hand into the black, then step forward, my heart quaking as I follow the sound of my sister’s voice.