Chapter 6 Branded
CHAPTER SIX
brANDED
Nightwalkers are prohibited from entering Feeding Grounds to feast.
— Serun’s Law
Emily and Manni are covering for me. Manni lies on my bed, tucked under the sheets, and Emily has arranged pillows to make it look like Manni is asleep in her bunk.
I pull myself up through the vent and move quietly through the airshaft, ducking under lights as I go. The light near Jax’s room sways, and I stop. In the depths of the darkness, I glimpse familiar red eyes. They don’t blink. There is no movement. All they do is watch.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, counting down from ten. It’s not real. It’s just my own dark thoughts taunting me for being part nightwalker. An icy burn flares across my cheek, and I flinch. With a shaky breath, I open my eyes to face my demons, but they’re gone.
The only monster here is me, I remind myself as I drop down into Jax’s room.
His hands find my waist, and his mouth closes around my pierced nipple, just as he always does. But before we fall into our relief, my hands move to his face, and I whisper, “Not tonight, Jax. All I want is for you to hold me.”
Jax lies on his back, his arm extending, and I rest my head at the junction of his shoulder and arm. I shuffle close, and he brushes his mouth against my forehead, his fingers tracing up and down my arm.
“Thanks for coming by,” he murmurs. “I thought you were gonna take Emily’s side. She’s always so pushy with you.”
“She’s just curious. We all are.”
Guilt crawls across my skin and is heavy in my throat, thickening at the lies that spill so fluently to a man I’ve grown to care for. Except, I know he won’t understand if I show him who I truly am. He would try to kill me before the words could leave my mouth.
So, what am I doing entertaining this?
We lie in silence. At times, our “situationship”—as Emily calls it—is serene and comfortable.
Lovely. His scent is pleasant. Powdery, like lavender soap.
His fingers glide from my arm to my stomach, then up to my breast, gently teasing my piercing.
Not in a sexual way. More like the curiosity of someone who enjoys tinkering.
“When did you get them pierced?” he asks, his finger tracing circles around my nipple. “I know you don’t talk about your past, but can we talk about this?”
I squirm, reminded of a life I want to leave behind. “Fifteen,” I say. “Bored and stupid.”
“Your parents didn’t care?”
“My mum didn’t know.” I place my hand over his, stopping his play. “Why the curiosity?”
“I want to know more about you, Saya.”
Tightening my hand, my fingers intertwine with his. “You know me in here. Isn’t that enough?”
“No.” With his fingers laced with mine, he climbs over me, pinning my arms on either side of my head.
“I want to know everything about you.” Jax bends down and kisses the edge of my mouth.
“Your fears, your highs and lows, and every relationship you had before me. I want to know every piece of your life, and to share mine with you.”
“Well,” I say, squirming as he uses his knees to kick my legs out wider and settle onto my pelvis, “when we get out of here, I will tell you everything.”
“Is that right?” he purrs, rubbing his growing erection against my heat. “So, is there really nothing I can do to tempt you into sharing a piece of yourself with me right now?”
“No.” My voice is firm. A shard of glass against a vein.
He stops, his teasing faltering as he lifts his head and realises I am not playing around.
“I wasn’t in a settlement, Jax. I didn’t know anything before this, and my last relationship wasn’t exactly a blooming flower.
It had more rot than growth. It wasn’t us and what we have. ”
“You mean he wasn’t this charming?” he says as he rolls off me and tugs my nightgown back into place.
“Funny,” I murmur.
Flashing a crooked smile, he draws me close and kisses me firmly. “I won’t rush you, babe. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Babe. The more he uses it, the more I suspect things will get ugly if we don’t work out.
“What if I’m never ready?” I ask quietly.
“At the very least, write it down before you die.”
I shift uncomfortably. “And if you die before me?”
“I’m inclined to believe that was a threat.” He pauses and blinks slowly. “Well, since Mother left, there’s no afterlife—unless you’re an immortal bloodsucker who can’t fuck off. So, I’ll be a ghost and haunt your sexy arse until you tell me to stop.”
I swallow the unknowingly hurtful words and mutter, “How annoying.”
Jax flashes a grin, tangles his fingers in my hair, and pulls me in for another kiss. I give in, hoping it will help it all hurt a little less.
With his hands gripping my waist, Jax boosts me up through the vent. He had double-checked that I was heading back to my room, and I’d responded with a dismissive “yes” and not met his gaze. The guilt would’ve been written all over my face.
He closes and secures the vent while I creep back the way I came, but I skip past my room and head for the ground floor instead.
I shuffle through the airshafts, the cold metal pressing against my bare feet. Dropping to my hands and knees, I scramble down a series of inclines until I reach the ground-floor vent system.
The praised room is ahead, awash in orange light and infused with the enchanting music that once lulled me to sleep.
As I reach the vent outside the praised room, I spot two Bleeders below. I glance uneasily at the light resting against my shoulder and freeze. Don’t fucking move.
“When do we clock off?” one of the Bleeders below asks.
The second looks towards the praised room. “An hour. I need to take Feeder zero-three-seven to the delivery room first.”
They sound human, which shouldn’t surprise me—because they are—but it’s a shock to hear how they speak to each other.
Friendly.
Familiar.
An unsettled feeling crawls along my spine. It’s far easier to believe those who choose to become Bleeders aren’t people at all.
“See you at the gate when I’m done with my surveillance,” the Bleeder says, heading towards the exit.
“See you then.”
When I’m sure they are both gone, I crawl in the same direction as one of the Bleeders. According to the evacuation diagram outside each room, the delivery room is to the left—down the corridor connected to the praised room and near the second entrance to the Feeding Ground.
As I step over the praised room vent, a strained moan from below stops me in my tracks.
“Ah, fuck. Jax!”
I blink slowly, trying to comprehend what I’m hearing. Through the mesh, I peer down into the praised room to see Laura on her bed with a pillow gripped between her thighs, moving up and down while she fingers herself.
Huh. So, Holly was right.
I shake my head to dispel the image and creep around the corner. When I reach the delivery room, the Bleeder is standing before large roller doors. A red light scans down their mask until it blinks green, and the door opens.
Flashing lights illuminate the scene, revealing a black truck backing into what appears to be a loading dock.
The rear doors have the same “V” symbol Emily and Manni mentioned.
I had assumed they were being dramatic because I didn’t think Bleeders would be stupid enough to mark their territory, yet here we are.
I lean closer to get a better view. To the right, a stretcher bed rolls through carrying an unconscious Bianca, her hand resting protectively on her belly.
The stretcher stops near the truck, and the driver hops out, moving to the back of the vehicle.
“Where’s she going?” the driver asks while unlocking the rear doors.
“Take her across the bridge.” The Bleeder rolls Bianca onto her side and parts the back of her hair. “There’s a settlement in Padbury that will take her in. They took in the last pregnant Feeder.”
Summer.
“Also, don’t just grab anyone you find on the streets this time. Make sure they’re a-fucking-lone. Anymore missteps and word might make its way to the Undercity.” His voice drops lower. “The Vampire Lord cannot find out.”
The driver swings the truck doors open, and another Bleeder emerges to grab the bars at the end of the stretcher. “I’m well aware of Serun’s Law. Hurry up and brand the woman, then load her in.”
The Bleeder takes out a rectangular black device slightly larger than his hand, which fits perfectly in his grip.
He holds back Bianca’s parted hair and presses the device against the back of her neck.
There is a clicking zap that reminds me of the electric fence that kept wolves away from Cherry Bloom village.
He removes the device from Bianca, revealing a barcode. I absently palm my own neck. Do I have one? My hair has always been long—most women’s hair in Darkovish is.
He hides the brand beneath her dark hair and steps back, gesturing to the others to continue.
The Bleeders slide the stretcher into the truck, and before long, the truck is rumbling to life and departing.
The remaining Bleeder in the delivery room watches until they are gone and the outer doors slide back into place, cutting through the darkness.
Alone, the Bleeder takes off their mask and turns.
My breath lodges in my throat at the sight of him.