Chapter 11
The bunker
Brir
My face scrunched up in confusion. Who or what was Polly? Why was Artemis calling out for it? How the hell had he lit up my threads?
I gazed down at the stranger lying in my bed, and I wished I had answers.
My fingers traced the intricate patterns of glowing blue threads wrapped around my body. Only my family possessed this unique ability to light up the threads that traced my skin. The soft blue light highlighted his features, casting an otherworldly glow on his face, and it was a shock to see someone else capable of this. It was unexpected, and it left me in awe.
I watched as he lay peacefully on the bed, his features aglow from the luminescent threads. His calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the violent events that mapped his body. Artemis’s chest rose and fell steadily.
I felt a strange mix of confusion, curiosity, and warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. I stared at him, studying his features as they relaxed into sleep. He looked peaceful, the harsh lines of pain smoothing out from his face.
Positioning myself in front of him, I gently ran my hands over his body, searching for any bruises or injuries. With careful precision, I applied the soothing salve to each tender spot, hoping to alleviate some of his pain.
My hands had just started exploring his ribs when I must have hit a tender spot because he jumped, and his tired eyes cracked open. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he tried to move away from my fingers. His clawed hand wrapped around my wrist.
“Sorry, ticklish.”
“Did the military do all of this to you?” I asked, looking over a spot that looked like a shoe impression.
His words were barely a whisper as he spoke. “No one,” he said before adding, “I just got sick. At first, I thought it was just a bad case of the flu, but then my fingernails started falling off. I joined the military a few months before, and my bunkmates found me hysterical on the floor, and next thing I knew, I woke up and looked like this.” His eyes closed tightly.
“You were in the military?” I paused in my ministrations.
He nodded weakly. “I enlisted when my sister went missing,” he murmured, his eyes still closed. A sad smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “The hospital told me she died, but I don’t think she did. I think the military took her. I had been doing everything I could to find her. Guess that didn’t turn out too well.”
“Why did they keep you locked up like an animal if you were one of their own?” Anger rose within me, but I managed to push it back down.
His lips twisted in a bitter smile, eyes opening but clouded with sorrow. “You assume they care about anyone?”
The depth of his desolation took me aback. His words burned like acid as he told me what he went through. He stopped several times, taking a moment to take several breaths before continuing. I could tell how exhausted he was, but he fought it like he needed to tell someone all that had happened. I sat there listening to his story, my anger rising and pulse racing, but I ensured it never reached my face. I never interrupted or asked questions. I kept my hands clenched on my thighs where he couldn’t see. Let him get it all out.
His features twisted in grief. Tears filled his eyes. His voice broke several times as he told me his story. Artemis felt deeply. I could see that. He had clung on to his last family member just like I had.
My eyes wandered over his body. His human features mixed well with the new ones. The scales tapered off into soft human skin, so fluidly you never would have thought they hadn’t been there before. He was so beautiful I didn’t want to stop looking at him, though his honesty tore at my heart. It made my chest physically ache from everything he had been through.
The last few days I had cared for him, I had gotten to study his body. In the light, I could just see the glitter of green on those dark-colored scales. It awed me. I couldn’t help but think he was breathtaking even as he spoke about his changes with disgust written on his delicate features. I hated that he was talking badly about himself, but he wasn’t mine to correct.
“I… I think they saw an opportunity in me.” His words hung heavily between us, carrying secrets and sorrows too heavy for any man—human or monster—to bear alone.
“An opportunity?” I echoed back, my brow knitting together.
He nodded slowly, grimly. “Something to study… or a weapon.” His gaze shifted from mine to somewhere distant. “Something to sell. I heard them talking about bidders.”
“What do you mean?”
He winced and shrugged his bare shoulder. “I guess I killed someone when I wasn’t lucid,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sadness and regret. “I’m dangerous, but the captain saw an opportunity when they gave me to him. He was supposed to take me to the labs they were running. I guess not many of the humans who get sick live. So I’m precious now.” Artemis spoke with an almost twisted smile on his face. “He had been bartering with several people to sell me to the highest bidder.”
“Was your sister sick like you?” I asked. “You called out for someone named Polly. Was that her?”
“Yeah, that’s my sister,” he confirmed with a sad smile. “Her name’s Apollo. I called her Polly.” He paused. I could see the questions on his face as he thought momentarily. “She was sick like me. Her fingernails fell out like mine. They took her before she looked like this, but they were giving her a ton of drugs. I joined the military, trying to figure out where they had taken her. I got sick a few weeks later. I hadn’t told anyone I was sick. I tried to work through it until I collapsed when I was on shift.”
“Can you tell me where they were taking you?” I took his hand in mine, trying to comfort him with my light touch. I watched my threads, but they didn’t light up again. His direct touch must be the only way they would illuminate. I almost wanted to place his hand back on my arm to test it.
He took a deep breath. “They were moving me to another facility,” his voice quivered with fear. “Most people who catch this disease don’t make it. But somehow, a few of us survived. They wanted to know why.” He looked at me with haunted eyes, and I could see the toll this experience had taken on him. “They were conducting experiments on us, trying to figure out what was causing the illness and how to stop it.” Exhaustion overtook him, and he slumped in his seat, his body drained. “They’re scared that everyone will end up like me,” he added before closing his eyes.
“I’ve never seen anything like this.” I looked him over, studying the more monstrous parts of his body.
“Neither have I.” His voice was raspy. I could tell he was starting to flag. “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. But those in charge seem convinced that your people are responsible.” He opened his eyes to look at me again. “I overheard them talking about it. They think your people brought it here.”
“No, there is no sickness like this in my world. I don’t even know of a species with gifts that could do something like this.” I stared into his deep blue eyes, trying to read him. I hoped he could see the truth, that we wouldn’t do this to anyone. The only soul alive who could change a being was Arya, and she would have had to make that person physically drink the blood from her body.
I hesitated to reveal too much, especially about Arya and her abilities. As a world eater, she could rewrite what blood did and how it functioned. But every time she used her abilities, those abilities took something from her. And with the military involved in this situation, it was likely connected to Arya, the only other who could manipulate blood bonds.
The thought of what Artemis had gone through was horrifying—it was beyond inhumane what they’d done to him. I could see where scales had been ripped out of his arm, a large patch of them. New ones were trying to regrow, but the skin was very infected. I brushed it with more salve.
He flinched as I touched the raw skin, a soft hiss emanating between clenched teeth. “Sorry,” I whispered, my fingers trembling as I pulled them away.
He shook his head slightly, giving me a wan smile. “It’s fine,” he murmured. His gaze softened as he added, “You’re not the one who did this to me.”
Guilt gnawed at the edges of my conscience. But it was true; I hadn’t done this to him. It was mankind’s fear and ignorance that led to such monstrous acts of desperation.
The sight of his injuries filled me with an intense protectiveness towards him, as if I could somehow make up for what had been done to him.
I swallowed hard. “We need to get your wounds dressed now. Let me do your arms quickly, and then you can lay down.”
“Ok,” he answered faintly, his gaze not meeting mine. He held out one shaking arm.
My hands moved slowly. The scales felt cold and rough under my fingertips, a stark contrast to the warmth of his skin beneath. As I touched the infection site more closely, a gasp escaped his lips. He bore the hurt stoically, but his face grew paler. My heart tightened involuntarily at his reaction. I retreated slightly, murmuring an apology.
“Did you find out what happened to your sister?” I asked, trying to distract him with conversation as I smeared a thin layer of the salve over the infected skin.
A shiver ran through his frame.
“No.”
I didn’t want to push him anymore, so I remained silent as I worked on his arm before moving to the next.
Ignoring the shift in the electrifying atmosphere between us, I focused on the task at hand. Each passing moment echoed in my chest like a drumbeat—thud, thud—resonating with a rhythm I had forgotten I possessed. Healing the human was necessary for my survival and his. We were both monsters in our own right.
“I’m sorry, Artemis.” My heart broke for what he had lost, and my own sister was at the forefront of my mind. He winced occasionally but didn’t protest; instead, he watched me in silence, his gaze unfocused and distant.
I wiped the salve around the spines of his back. When I got to the one closest to his neck, I brushed his dark hair away so it didn’t get in the salve. My thumb ran over the numbers that branded his flesh. 1134. The numbers were healed—one of the few things that were.
I whispered the numbers aloud, tracing them with my fingertips. It was inhuman, reducing him to just a number, an object for testing. I felt the rage building beneath my skin till it shimmered in the air around us.
“They did this to you…” The words came out as a low growl, more beast-like than humanoid. Every fiber of my being screamed against the injustice, the horror of it all. He was not some test subject; he was Artemis, and he deserved better than this.
Artemis didn’t respond. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was shallow. The exhaustion had finally taken him away, leaving me alone with my anger and fear. He started to sway, snapping me back into the moment. I steadied him with a hand before moving to lay his sleeping form back in the nest. Dune whined as I moved Artemis away from him.
“Thank you.” The words came out in a gurgling noise. I looked back at him and saw black liquid running down the edge of his mouth. I grabbed a clean cloth and wiped it away.
I felt the rhythm of his pulse—weak but constant. Relief washed over me as I realized that he was merely asleep, succumbing to exhaustion.
“No one deserves this,” I murmured, my voice barely echoing through the silent room. I moved my gaze to his face, a canvas of pain for far too long. His features were relaxed in sleep, and the shadows of agony momentarily lifted.
I sighed, a weight settling on my heart.
His chest rose and fell slowly, a silent testament to his resilience.
A soft whimper escaped his lips. Reflexively, my fingers brushed his hair away from his forehead. The intimacy of the act startled me; it was a tenderness that I had not allowed myself in a long time.
I ran my fingers lightly over his claws, marveling at their sharpness and strength despite all the trauma he had endured. I couldn’t help but wonder at the resilience buried deep within his bones, a testament to his spirit that refused to succumb to the torture.
As I watched him sleep, a sudden surge of protectiveness washed over me. Everything else ceased to matter. The world could burn outside, and I would stay by his side. I wouldn’t let Artemis face the horrors alone anymore.
A flicker of movement caught my eye. A shiver ran down Artemis’s spine, and he twitched in his sleep as if haunted by nightmares. Another soft whimper slipped past his lips.
“Shh,” I hushed softly, brushing my fingers through his hair in soothing motions. “You’re safe, Artemis.” Despite uttering those words several times before, it felt like a mantra now, one meant to soothe not only him but me as well.