Chapter Thirty-One #2
I scratch my neck so hard that I accidentally open a wound.
Elia’s pupils dilate, and she bites her lip, hard.
I wipe the blood from my neck, staring her down, waiting for her to pounce on me.
But after a long breath, the thirst leaves her eyes.
“They died a month later,” I finally say.
And as I say it, I can feel my insides twisting.
Elia doesn’t speak, letting my thoughts breathe.
It may have been a coincidence. Yet at the same time, it doesn’t make sense. If Gustavsson was looking for blood party victims, why wasn’t I taken to one? I should have been the one who died, but instead, it was my parents. And somehow, Callisto was waiting on the sidelines to recruit me.
I remember Penny standing next to my parents’ corpses. Her red hair was in a neat bun, her pale skin stark against her black clothes. I’d thought she was a police officer, though soon she told me that what had happened to my parents was a crime that no ordinary cop could solve.
I’d never questioned Callisto finding me, Callisto betting on me, deciding that this random eighteen-year-old would for some reason be a good hunter.
My blood smelling good was something they only found out later.
But what if they had already known? What if Gustavsson, the Vassals, gave them a heads-up? My chest aches. Surely they could have found someone better than me. An athlete, a soldier. The only thing I had going for me was my blood.
“You know, if Callisto was interested only in protecting humans from vampires, I would have nothing against your organisation, Rebecca,” she says, taking my hand.
Her nails are pastel pink. “I would even help them, just as I help the Council. And the Council is by no means perfect. But the Council is not in bed with the Vassals.”
I don’t look up at her. I wish her words were jarring. I wish they didn’t make sense.
“Do you believe in coincidences?” she asks.
I don’t. But all the same, I don’t want to believe it. Callisto allied with the Vassals. “Why would they work with them?”
“Both Callisto and the Vassals want to destroy the Council,” Elia says, looking up at the crystal chandelier hanging from her ceiling.
“The Vassals want the world to go back to how things were before the treaties. Callisto wants to rid the earth of vampires. They have entirely different goals, so you wouldn’t think they’d ever work together, but while the Council still exists, they might as well help each other out. ”
“All my missions have been to dismantle blood parties,” I say. “I’ve never once targeted the Council.”
“Of course you haven’t,” she says, resting her head on her arm, looking at me with her piercing blue eyes. “But Callisto has rankings, don’t they? Crosses, Hymns, Silvers, and Stakes. I’m assuming you’re just a Cross.”
I look away from her. She’s right. I’ve been a Cross for four years. Penny was already a Stake when I met her. I know that the missions Stakes go on are different. “How do you know so much about Callisto?” I ask, trying to keep my mind from racing.
“I had the pleasure of meeting its founder,” she says, acid dripping from her tongue. Catherine Lovelace. I have a million questions. But I get the sense Elia doesn’t want to talk about her.
What if she’s right about Callisto?
If Callisto really does work with the Vassals, if I was scouted for them by Gustavsson, then there’s a chance Callisto may have arranged my parents’ deaths, just to make sure I had a reason to join them.
What if they’ve spent the last four years dangling the carrot of revenge in front of me to keep me fighting, when they were the culprit all along?
What if Penny lied to me?
“If you’re right about Gustavsson, what should we do?” I ask. I’m happy to take him on myself. But when we were alone in his classroom, I froze. That might happen again.
“I need a band for my Halloween Ball,” Elia says, picking up her phone. “And I believe he’s part of a quartet. Ada’s little palace has many hidden corners in which we can ask him questions.”
I nod. I find my thoughts spiralling back to what she said before. Callisto, working with the Vassals.
“When did you figure out I was a vampire hunter?” I ask. “When you found the garlic in my room?”
“No,” Elia scoffs. “I knew the moment I first saw you,” she says. “Your eyes were full of the hatred only Callisto’s hunters have.” She puts a hand on my head. “But you’ve changed.”
I take in a deep breath, and I look at her as I exhale.
“If they are behind my parents’ deaths, I’ll crush them,” I say.
“Them?”
“Callisto,” I say. “So, I can’t quit. Not if I can destroy them from the inside.”
“My conditions haven’t changed,” Elia says.
Whether or not Callisto is working with the Vassals, I still need to get into the library.
I need to convince Elia that she can trust me.
“My mission here was to steal The Book of Blood and Roses,” I say. “From Ada’s secret library.”
“The Book of Blood and Roses?” Elia raises her brows, leaning back. “Why does Callisto want a book of remedies?” She pauses. “It makes sense for your current predicament, of course.”
“Remedies?” I ask. “I thought it was a list of every vampiric weakness. A way to—”
“Cure vampirism?” Elia mutters. “She certainly tried. But those weaknesses you speak of are in the ‘Blood’ section of the book. The remedies are in ‘Roses,’ which takes up the bulk of her work.”
That bizarre name finally makes sense.
“I suppose Callisto is interested in the ‘Blood’ part of the book, then,” I say.
Elia stares at me and finally sighs. “All right, Rebecca. Once the moon’s in its first quarter, I’ll take you to the library. But if you go back on your word and work for them again, I will kill you.”
“I thought you’d done enough killing already.”
“There’s always an exception,” she says, grinning at me.
The week, which I’d assumed would feel like an eternity, staggers to a sudden end.
The half-moon sits atop the hills, a faint glow through the thick clouds.
I’ve stopped going to Gustavsson’s class, afraid that if I see him again, I’ll either freeze or kill him.
Julia eyes me warily; ever since I ran from her painting, she’s been distant, as though she knows the effect it had on me.
And even though I haven’t gone to Gustavsson’s class, I still can’t stop replaying prom, over and over, in my head, until what I remember becomes a tattoo, and the missing memories a void, threatening to pull me in. My only respite is Aliz, who can twist every emotion, every anxiety, into longing.
“Are we really doing this here?” I ask. Aliz presses her lips to the black moon on my neck, bringing my every nerve to life.
The fifth floor of Kinsnet Library is empty, but I can hear the low murmurs of my fellow students in the floors below.
I swallow and look at the clock. Elia told us to meet her by the nook at midnight, in just two hours.
In two hours, the fire that’s been kindling between us will be snuffed out. For her, at least.
“You don’t want to?” she asks, doing up the buttons she just pulled loose. I swallow hard.
“I do.” I pull her closer, into a tight hug, and Aliz kisses my head, squeezing my shoulders. I just don’t want it to be the last. I know it would be stupid for me to say that. But the price of my freedom is not only leaving Callisto. It’s also losing Aliz.
“We can go back to our room,” she says. “I don’t want you to think I’m an exhibitionist.”
“You’re worrying about that now?” I laugh, tugging her shirt out from her trousers, just to allow me to press my hand directly against her skin. “Do I have to remind you of the first time I saw you?”
“No,” she says, cupping my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze. “But I bet you couldn’t stop thinking about it,” she says. “I remember how fast your heart was beating.”
“Yeah, because I was scared,” I say, running my hand higher, until I find the clasp of her bra. I tug on it, but don’t undo it.
“And now?” she whispers, lips close to mine.
“Terrified,” I say, digging my nails into her back.
“Liar,” she says, and she slips her hand between my legs, her fingers already familiar with every inch of me.
I grit my teeth, biting my lip to keep myself from moaning, all while Aliz presses me against the bookcase.
“What’s wrong?” she asks innocently, two fingers slipping inside me, soon joined by a third.
I pull her hair, trying to wipe the smugness off her face, but she knows she’s in full control.
She kisses my neck, and I feel it deeply, viscerally.
My blood burns, craving to be tasted by her.
And I’m not sure if she could read my mind, but Aliz is able to distract me by slipping a fourth finger inside, fucking me harder than she ever has before.
Being, as I asked her, a little less gentle.
I bite her neck to keep myself from crying out, and it’s the sound of her moan that drives me over the edge, the world momentarily disappearing as pleasure sears through me.
I hold her tight, breathing heavily, and Aliz kisses my cheek.
“I wish I could return the favour,” I whisper, still pressing myself against her.
“I wish I could get down on my knees for you,” I say against her ear, and I feel her shiver, her breath hitching.
She lets out a nervous laugh and shakes her head.
“I’d love that, but I’d lose control.”
I’m filled with momentary bitterness as I think of another girl touching her in a way I can’t, feeling Aliz’s fangs piercing their skin in a way that I’ll never be able to feel.
“Maybe I could tie you up,” I say. She sighs, and when our eyes meet, there’s a slight red tinge to her irises. “And blindfold you,” I add.