58. Fixation
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
FIXATION
Saya Claymore
Beyond the water fountain sculpture of Mother, there’s a woman seated behind the marble table. Her eyes glaze over at the sight of the man in front of her. He trembles like a leaf, completely covered in dirt.
I move around the fountain where the children flip coloured coins. When two of the same colour touch, they clap in excitement. Looking away from them, I follow the red velvet rope.
The prayer sanctuary has an unsettling vibe. Remote and detached, even. Aside from the children and the trickle of water from Mother’s tears, there is no sound. No one speaks. They move in an orderly fashion, as if they have somewhere to go.
They remind me of the Bleeders in Darkovish Feeding Ground. Controlled. Robotic. Lifeless. All of it is so different from the nightwalkers in the Undercity.
I wrap my arms around my body, soothing myself, as if that would help.
“Next!” the woman shouts. I step forward with the other two. The woman in front of me rolls her shoulders and runs her hands through her curly brown hair as she sighs.
I pick at the fabric of my gown as a group of three slayers walk past me. My heart races at the sight of light brown hair. My throat closes, and with each step they take, my heart thuds lower into my stomach. They turn around, looking towards me, and I let out a sharp breath at the unfamiliar face.
“Next!” she says, and I take another step forward in the line.
The group of slayers enter the lift, and as the doors close, my attention settles on the doors next to them. A prayer place. Is that what Serun was talking about? Does he want me to go in there?
“Why are you here?” the woman at the counter asks.
“You hired me,” the woman before me drawls. “Eleonora Yener, though most call me Nora.”
Nora? Every hair on my body stands on end at Manni’s words in the feeding ground. “It was just me, Nora, and our mum for a while.”
No, that is too much of a coincidence. It can’t be Manni’s Nora, can it? I stare at the back of her head. Soft brown curls, warm skin, but that could still be anyone. Many people have curly hair and warm skin. This means nothing.
“Right, the human nightwalker hunter. They are expecting you on G4.” The woman at the counter slides a white card across. “The lift is in the hallway to the right, behind the church.”
As Nora grabs the card, her shoulder jerks and her body tenses. My hands flex, and I take an awkward step back as she turns her head slightly. Intense brown eyes study me, her frown deepening.
“Something wrong?” the woman says.
Nora looks away and slides the card into her pocket. “I’m actually tired. Even though Reynel isn’t far, there were a lot of nightwalkers. Can I sleep first?”
“Sure…” She points to the lift beside the church. “Use that one.”
“Cool.” Nora salutes and saunters away, her hands shaking and her body shivering as if a spider had crawled up her back.
“Next!” Shit. I stand opposite the receptionist, and her dull blue eyes settle on me. “Name?”
I open my mouth, only to choke on air.
She rolls her eyes and says, “Number, if you don’t remember your name, Feeder.”
“Zero-zero-eight,” I murmur.
The keyboard clacks as she types in the numbers, her focus still piercing me.
“Padbury settlement is full, and we can’t take humans there.
Tomorrow, the bus will take you to the compound in Padbury.
You will stay there for a few days until the bus to Sylvar arrives.
A slayer will take you to the settlement there. ”
“Okay…”
I jump when the static blips screech into my sensitive ears. Those piercing blue eyes turn away from me as she reaches for the thin piece of bendable plastic that comes from the machine beside her. She slides it towards me. “Put that on. If it breaks, we will be alerted, so don’t even try, Feeder.”
“What’s it for?” I wrap the plastic around my wrist, like the children are wearing.
“Easier to know who you are and where you’re going without us bothering to talk to you,” she says nonchalantly. “Next!”
The woman drops a plastic bag on the counter, and as I grab it, I point to the church and ask, “Can I?”
She lets out a huff of laughter. “You still cling to the idea of Mother.” The woman waves her hand as if to shoo away a fly. “Go, and when you are done, enter the lift and scan your barcode. It will take you to where you will sleep tonight.”
With the bag in hand, I leave before she can question me further and head to the church. The wooden doors creak, and the cathedral’s brightness vanishes, painting the room in warm browns and reds.
There is a dense smell coming from the room. Dust, old wood from the long chairs on either side of the row, incense, and a powdery lavender that clings to the back of my throat.
The tall windows blaze with fiery colours. The black, red, and orange tiles flame up purple vervain across every window. My heart contracts, but before my mind can wander too into its meaning, I focus ahead.
A man in a white, buttoned-up coat, reminiscent of what doctors looked like before Mother’s fall, sits on the stage before the podium. As the doors tremble shut, he looks up from his phone. Tired brown eyes, dark circles beneath them, meet mine.
“I’d like to pray,” I say, hoping I sound convincing.
He rises and tucks his phone into his pocket. “You’re the first person I’ve seen in days to come in here. Where are you from, girl?”
The man called me a person. He is human, at least I think.
“Darkovish Feeding Ground,” I say, as I set the bag on the seat and smooth my gown. The dagger feels heavy against my flesh.
“Ah, explains a lot. A few others who came from the dawning, a little over a week ago, did the same. You must have seen a lot, eh?” He turns away from me and heads up the stairs. “Will you be heading to Sylvar?”
“Yeah…”
“Good. Good. Lots to learn.”
As I raise my gown, I follow him, my steps quiet and my fingers quick as I draw the dagger from its holder. Take the shot. Take it, take it, take it. For Cole.
For. Cole!
Any guilt that could fester dissipates like mist. I’ve killed for him before. This makes no difference.
I take the last step and jab the dagger into his flesh, stabbing into the trapezius at an angle.
The blade comes out clean, and the man grabs at his throat as the blood swells, flowing down his chest. He lands on his knees as I place the blade back into the strap, and by the time I walk around him, the man collapses on the wooden floor face-first. A pool of blood seeps away from his corpse.
I grab the sleeve of his coat, peeling it off him.
Then I move into his pockets, take his phone, and feel around his belt when I notice a plastic card with his name and a barcode.
I take it with me, grab the man by the legs, and drag him behind the podium into the darkest corner.
Afterwards, I run my arms through the coat and button it up to resemble a white coat.
“Shit…” I touch the sleeve. Blood rings the edge. I fold the coat a few times, then clip the card to my pocket. With a shake of my head, I raise my hands to change my hair and eye colour when I notice the wristband. A tingling prickles across my skin, and goosebumps rise—a silent warning.
Without leveraging my magik, I scan the room and spot a door at the back.
I step through, shedding fear and awkwardness, and walk with confidence.
I find myself in a narrow hallway at the back of the prayer room and notice another lift on the other side.
Doors line the right, and open hallways on the left must lead back to the cathedral’s entrance.
I don’t enter them, as if my subconscious is luring me towards this lift instead.
The door ahead of me opens, and two people step out. “Can we talk about last night?” The familiar voice makes my stomach sink. My footsteps slow, and every fibre of my body screams for me to turn around—but I can’t. That would look even more fucking suspicious if I did.
Laura leans against the wall, her arms folded across her chest, anger flushing her cheeks. This finger-fucker is alive?
“I don’t fucking care,” another says, and every organ in my body nearly shuts down at the sound of his exasperated voice. My fingers twitch, itching for the dagger. A drumbeat of violent rage fills me to the bone, boiling my blood at the sound of Jax’s voice.
“You said her name! Like, fuck. She’s fucking dead. When are you going to get over her?”
He balls his hand into a fist. “Careful, Laura. Unlike Julien, who at least works at the mess, you are a waste of fucking space. No one would care if I snapped your damn neck.”
With an exasperated sigh, Laura stomps down the hallway, muttering her complaints as she leaves.
My hollow footsteps echo in my ears as I draw closer, and time seems to slow as I walk past him, my head down, glaring at the ground. A ringing in my ears stings, and my mouth goes dry, filling with cotton and aching in my throat.
Another step, and my foot forward falls back as he grabs my wrist. “I know that scent,” he says.
I suck in a breath as I am pulled away from the elevator, slamming into the wall.
His arms grab both my wrists, pinning them above my head.
Before I can speak, his mouth crushes against mine.
My glamour shifts, morphing. Dark hair drains away, leaving shimmering blonde, and the glamour I had in the Darkovish Feeding Ground returns—the glamour Jax saw me as.
His tongue darts into my mouth, and as I close my jaw hoping to rip it off, he breaks the kiss, his hands falling from my wrists and grabbing my cheeks. Blue as the sea darts from one eye to the other. “You’re alive, baby. Fuck, you are alive.”
Every fibre of my being wants to shove him off. Every part of me wants to drive a dagger into his eye. All of me wants him to become nothing. But I can’t. Not when I am this close to getting my brother back.
For Cole. For Cole. For Cole.
Jax grabs my waist, the lure of lust pulsing inside him more than any question could erupt from his mouth.
One moment we are in the hallway, and the next he guides me into the room he came out of, slamming the door shut.
Once inside, his mouth is on mine again, and I stand there, stunned and disgusted.
Every breath. Every touch. Every moan. Every piece of his skin that touches mine sends a sickening sensation through my body, tightening my nerves that burn with acid.
His hands lift the coat, but before his fingers can slip between my legs, I suck in a breath and push him away. “I’m here for Cole. I heard the survivors came to this prayer sanctuary. Is he here, Jax?”
“Fuck, you’re alive,” he breathes against my mouth. “How? I saw—”
“Jax,” I say sternly, grabbing his face, which repulses me further at the thought of him touching me after fucking everything. “Help me get Cole, and when we leave, I will tell you.”
There is something wrong with him. Something I haven’t noticed until now. He is… desperate. Entranced. Lured?
Am I luring him?
I’m not sure, but whatever it is, he doesn’t question why I am here, dressed as a white coat. Maybe he knows something I don’t. I don’t know. But his desperate need to touch me to know I am real outweighs any sense he has.
“He is in G4, but we can’t…” Jax’s brows bunch when his thumb runs across my knuckles. He lifts my hand and stares at the silver band on my ring finger. “Saya, what the fuck is—”
“Het gu,” I breathe, and a pulse of wind erupts from me. Jax flies back, crashing into the cabinets on the other side. Without missing a beat, I reach for the door handle when the band on my arm burns. Suddenly, the fluorescent light flashes red. “What?”
“WARNING! WARNING! A VEGODIAN IS IN THE PRAYER SANCTUARY! A VEGODIAN IS IN THE PRAYER SANCTUARY! WARNING! WARNING!”
I rip off the bandage and toss it on the ground before I leave the room. Chaos ensues, with white coats, people, children, and maybe even slayers running, so I match their rhythm. My panicked heart sputters, and I make my way to the lift. It opens, and white coats hurry out.
I step in and turn around to the unlit buttons on the side. Out of the corner of my eye, the room Jax dragged me into opens, and he stumbles out, blood dripping down his forehead.
G4. G4. G4—Wait, no. I need to destroy Mother’s light. I need Serun. I need him.
His blue eyes roll in my direction, and my gaze settles on Jax.
His eyes widen, and he pushes off the wall, racing towards me.
Adoration is gone, replaced by a determined resolve to reach me before the door closes.
I punch in the button for the top floor, and as it closes on him, an earth-shuddering sound comes from the other side.
I gasp, choking on my saliva. Clutching my chest, I double over as panic claims me.
“Saya!” he calls, his voice fading as the elevator moves. “Baby, please, talk to me. This isn’t like you! He is controlling you!”
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Kill Mother’s light. When we do, Serun will come, and we will find Reyes and Cole and leave.
Ignore Jax.
Ignore Jax.
Ignore Jax.
Dragging my fingers through my hair, I expel enough crippling anxiety to nod and accept my driving thoughts. But before I can settle my nerves, the doors open. In the centre of the octagonal room, a crystal hovers within a transparent cube.
I press the emergency stop button on the lift to buy myself time before I step out into the aura of Mother’s burning light.