11. Inanition
CHAPTER ELEVEN
INANITION
Saya Claymore
Serun pockets the sphere after we step out of the light stream. The shadows encasing him seem to slip away with every blink until the man behind them resurfaces. As the portal of light closes, our view of Avianna and Reyes fades, leaving me alone with the Lord of the Undercity.
One look at the bag of food Serun is holding in his non-orb hand and my stomach protests, churning with undeniable hunger. Sure, the Bleeders fed us, but it was never enough to satiate, just enough to survive without passing out.
“Come,” Serun says, heading in the opposite direction of the room I have been staying in. “Let us dine before your stomach eats itself, kamai.”
“If I cannot know what kamai means, you cannot use it,” I say.
He slowly blinks at me. Is he irritated? It’s hard to tell with Serun. “No.”
My brow twitches, and he smirks.
I follow Serun down the wet stone corridors to the sound of flowing water. Walls open, brick and dust scraping as they part. As we pass, flames in brass holders burst to life with a rush of warmth.
“You said you killed everyone who created the portal orb. Why?” I quicken my pace, and with every step, my stomach noisily attempts to make it known that I am fucking starving. “And could you take me home with it?”
“I could.” Shadows move across his face, shielding his expression. “And I killed them because it is a powerful tool. In the wrong hands, it could cause devastation.”
“And you aren’t the wrong hands?”
Serun gives me a crooked smile, his shadows quivering. “I’ve had it for nearly three decades, and all I’ve used it for is to slip into the Darkovish Feeding Ground twice, and to enter the Sunken City from my manor quickly.”
“You could rule the world with it, if it’s so powerful.”
“I have no interest in the world. Naylen is enough,” he answers with a grimace.
A stiff gust of wind from the right bites against my skin. A passage opens, and Lucifer steps out. His lip curls and face contorts at the sight of me before he looks away, touches a wall, and disappears through it.
“How do the walls move?” I ask with mild curiosity. “They seem to like to close on me all the time.”
“The Sunken City is woven with magik, alive and controlled by Lucifer’s powers, but he knows not to irritate me. It is why I told you not to stray far from me. He won’t leave walls closed on me, but he would for you and others that may roam his castle.”
So, it was Lucifer who guided me to the room overlooking the ocean.
Soon, we reach the dining room. “Wash your hands behind the bar before you eat, unless you care to ingest some of that.”
I look at my bloody hands, curling them into fists.
As I clean myself off, my fingers twitch at the sound of cans clinking when Serun sets them on the glass dining table.
Once the water finally runs clear, I shut off the faucet and dry my wet hands on my gown.
Moving around the table to sit opposite him, Serun reaches into the bag and pulls out a can, examining it with a frown as though trying to decipher it.
“When was the last time you ate human food?”
Red eyes fleetingly meet mine, then drop away. Serun sets the can on the table and says, “I don’t remember much of my human life. Only bits and pieces.”
I rest my hands on the glass tabletop and lean forward expectantly. “And?”
“They are bits and pieces that I am not fond of remembering.” Crimson eyes settle back on me as he slides the can my way. “You saw a memory when you drank from my wrist.”
I did.
After my fangs sank into his flesh, a rush of endorphins flowed like the blood down my throat. It was like honeyed wine. Thick, lathering, and sweet.
His memories came next. It drew me somewhere else, to a place unknown, but it tasted as familiar as the death in Darkovish Feeding Ground. Corpses lay desolate amid a war. There was a teenager, wounded and defeated, until…
“A vegodian saved you.” I twist the can around, grimacing to find it is green beans. Serun wasn’t lying when he said he did not know about human food. I wouldn’t give this to my mortal enemy. “Who was she?”
He shrugs.
I pop the ring pull lid and peel it open. “Keep your secrets, then.”
His fingers curl around the shadows that ghost across his knuckles. “She was a friend. Is your time here going to be spent interrogating me? You could try learning things about me naturally, you know.”
I pick a bean out of the juice and chew on the stringy, bland mush with a wince. Still, my stomach starts to settle. “You have given me little reason to trust you. And as your consort, I’d like to know quickly if you are someone I can accept, or someone I will hate for my half-life.”
Serun’s irises thin, becoming cat-like. “And what could make you hate me?”
“I know of Serun’s Law.” I peel a second bean and place the skin next to the can.
The juice drips across the table. “Your control. You only see humans as a food source. Otherwise, you would have stayed in the shadows when Mother left. If you cared about humanity, you wouldn’t have created all this. ”
A cruel grin beams across his face. “You think I did this? Turned topside into a wasteland?”
“That’s how the stories go.”
“Stories lie.”
“And so do you.”
It’s quiet. Tense. Serun watches me like a hawk as I peel the skin off another bean and dig out one of the raindrop peas inside.
Hunger doesn’t plague my stomach anymore. Instead, the feeling has turned sickly. Like there are a thousand maggots worming inside me. A ruinous anger, blistering and bruised.
Serun took away my voice and choice. Yet, a strange sensation stirs heavily inside me at his words.
He is confused and awkward, with many gaps in his memory.
I often feel the same. Most of what I know I have learned from others.
I have never experienced the Undercity or topside.
Nightwalkers rule us, powerful and damning, but now I’ve come to learn about slayers.
I thought they were a myth. A story to help children sleep better at night.
No one in the feeding ground had ever seen one. At least, not until the red moon.
I scratch absently at the scar on my chest. The first thing the slayer did was try to kill me. Serun has done all he can to save me.
“Serun…” I set the can on the table and move around until I’m beside him. Resting my cracked, bloody hands on the glass, I lean against it. “Sorry for irritating you.”
I watch the shadows near his feet stir with emotions I cannot pinpoint, but I don’t want to look up. At least not yet.
“You didn’t irritate me. They are your feelings and your truth. I also need to understand that I am your enemy, and as your enemy, I need to earn your trust.”
My fingertips press tighter against the table.
I look up as his hand nears my cheek, the softened look in his eyes melting like lava against my skin.
“All I want is to see you smile. I don’t care why, but it is a want.
And if that means I can only see it from a distance while I watch over you and your brother, so be it.
” Icy fingers touch my face, trailing up and over my ear, tucking stray white hair behind the point.
“But while I have you, let me show you my world, Saya Claymore.”
Hurt shows in his eyes. My own reflection is a wavering mess, because how can I possibly smile after all that I have lost? Cole is with the fucking slayers, my friends are bloody memories in my pocket, and the home I had before all of this was a prison laced with moonflowers.
I’ve lost everything.
“Come here…” Serun’s hand tightens on the back of my head, and he crushes me against his chest. A shallow breath escapes me when the hand on the back of my head slips lower until his arms wrap around me in an embrace.
Unexpected warmth, and the panicked thud of my heart is all it takes for the shell I hide within to crack.
My hands drag up cotton, touching the icy muscles along his shoulders. His arms crush me tighter, and I grip shadow and cloth. Burying myself against his chest, rubbing against the lace stitching of his shirt, I cry.
Each tear is another memory. Manni slamming her pillow into Emily’s face.
Braiding their hair. Sharing soap. Staying up late to talk about our crushes.
Manni offering double blood when Cole could not.
It all slips down my burning cheeks. My ears bend back as my cry turns into a wracking sob for all that I have lost.
Serun’s arms keep up their strength in the tight embrace.
It’s nice. Warm, even, despite coming from a dead man.
I press closer, wanting more of it. Breathing in, I then breathe out the last of the ache.
My hands relax on his shoulders, and his hold slackens until his hands drop to settle on my hips.
As I look up, our noses brush, and my breaths become ragged. My chest rises and falls, while his is uncannily still. My focus is fixed on his mouth, imagining the taste of nightshade on his lips.
I tip my head up, my lips brushing his, when suddenly the hands on my hips are gone, and I stumble a step. Stunned, I stare at the limestone and the space Serun left behind, my mind a scramble of unconnected wires as my brain processes what just happened.
“Let me take you to your room, Saya,” Serun says, and I turn towards his voice to see him making his way down the corridor. Shadows stretch behind him, as if desperate to stay.
A breathy laugh escapes me, and I gather up the bag of cans—and the open can of fucking beans—and follow Serun, my heart strangely lighter than it has been in some time.