Chapter 21 #2
Still, I find myself bringing out the necklace and staring at the blood-red vial. Lucan told me to check in with him right before the Choosing, so I try to calm my heartbeat before I finally slip it over my neck. Instantly, the howls from outside my window cut short.
What’s wrong? Lucan hurries out as soon as it settles along the length of my sternum. Why are you breathing so heavily?
I suck in a surprised breath before I fall back onto the bed. Nothing’s wrong, I tell him as mortification spreads across my skin in heat waves. Thankfully, he can’t see me.
But he can—
Ohh, he chuckles out, pure arrogance overshadowing his worry.
I can’t shut my brain off, each thought like a firecracker, exploding one after the other.
A tsk sound echoes in my skull before it travels down between my legs, where I’d imagined him touching me only moments earlier.
I clamp my thighs together. You like the sound of my voice in your head?
My eyes flutter closed involuntarily at how close he sounds.
His voice drops dangerously low. Do you want my help next time, little nightmare?
I’d drag moans louder than that out of you—without laying a hand on your body.
Thankfully, a completely opposite and smooth female voice saves me from having to respond.
“Eligible citizens of Xantera, please report to the Blood Moon Palace for the Choosing.”
Drowning her out, his rough, gravelly tone suddenly turns serious. Are you ready?
I have to be. I raise my chin, because what else can I possibly do?
This is the only time the Guardians are guaranteed to be looking the other way, preoccupied with their new sacrifices they choose tonight.
If I falter now, I’ll have to wait for the rise of the next blood moon, which would be months.
No. For my mother, for Diggory and his daughter, for all the Chosen Ones who don’t come to the balconies anymore and all their families who don’t know what happened to them, it has to be tonight.
I’ll let you know as soon as I make it back, I start, already raising my hands to take the necklace off as quickly as I put it on, and then we’ll go to the catacombs togeth—
What did you just say?
Um. I blink as the loudspeakers repeat that smooth beckoning and the floor creaks outside my bedroom door—Malcolm is probably waiting for me on the other side. I’ll let you know as soon as I make it back, I start to repeat.
Hell no, Saskia. Lucan’s growl could saw through stone. I’m coming with you to the Choosing, too.
My hands pause around the chain. I can’t wear this thing around the Guardians. They might see it as they’re passing by. Even if I tuck it into the folds of my cloak, there’s still a chance one of them could glance at me and catch a gleam through my hair or something.
Then hide it on some other part of your body, Lucan says firmly. As long as that vial connects with a pulse, we’ll be able to communicate. Doesn’t have to be your heartbeat.
I cross my arms. And what other pulse are we talking about here?
I don’t know. His voice flickers, as if he very much does know. You tell me.
“Saskia?” Malcolm’s voice follows a soft knocking on my door. “You ready to go?”
“One moment!” I call. “Just putting on my cloak!”
Why do you insist on coming with me? I hiss at Lucan. He has to realize that he doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. I could just rip this necklace off right now like I’ve done before and take off without him. There’s no way he can make sure I obey him.
I don’t need to make sure you obey me, Saskia.
Once I’m inside that Wall, you’ll be crawling after me of your own accord.
My eyes fly open, but he plows on before I can process what he just said.
Now find another pulse, because I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you around those parasites. I need to make sure you’re okay.
The dichotomy of his words rattle me, and I try to stumble through my own.
I’ve been to plenty of Choosings before without your mind inside my own, you know. There’s nothing you’d be able to do to protect me even if they randomly decided to attack me. Which they won’t.
No, the Guardians attack their victims in the confines of their palace, where nobody can see what they really do to them. My fingers tighten with a flash of anger at the very thought, and then a cacophony of voices washes over me all at once.
“Eligible citizens of Xantera,” the loudspeakers repeat, “please report to the Blood Moon Palace for the Choosing.”
“Saskia!” Malcolm calls again.
Another pulse, Lucan says, his voice dropping into something pleading. Please.
I huff out a breath of frustration and rip the necklace off my neck. Instantly, our connection is severed, the Monster in my head cutting out like a slammed door.
“Stubborn male,” I mutter under my breath, and quickly slide my pants off before putting one of my feet on my bed so that the edges of my cloak fall back. Then, I slide my foot through the necklace and shimmy it up my leg.
When it’s just above my knee, I stop, but it slides right back down, and I grit my teeth.
It’s not quite long enough to loop around my leg twice, but too big to stay put where it’s at, so I pull it up even higher.
Higher, higher, higher, until it’s secured around the widest part of my thigh, the vial resting right between my legs—touching the part of me I just satisfied minutes ago.
Well, I found a pulse for Lucan, that’s for sure. He’s going to be so satisfied.
Great. Just great.
His presence reappears in my mind merely seconds later, oozing just as much satisfaction as I expected, but I’m already pulling my pants back on, throwing open my bedroom door, and marching out into the living room to Malcolm’s side, determined to give Lucan the silent treatment until he stops feeling so smug.
I don’t know if that’s possible, little nightmare. This connection is so much warmer and wetter than—
“Sorry for the wait!” I interject a little too loudly, forcing myself to smile at Malcolm. “I was having some problems pinning my badge.”
Malcolm eyes my badge like he doubts that’s true, but nods and gestures at the door.
Together, we join the crowd slipping down the main road toward the Blood Moon Palace.
The clatter of thousands of footsteps merges with the ticking of my heartbeat in my throat, and I can feel the necklace pressing against me from beneath my clothes, creating a chaotic mess of confusing sensations that I try to shake off by focusing on the moon: a bloody eye looking down on us from the sky, monitoring everyone’s march toward what they think would be an honor if they’re Chosen.
An honor, Lucan scoffs.
Shhh, I scold him. The last thing I need right now is to be distracted by how his voice seems to be coming straight from my core.
Too soon, Malcolm and I are in that courtyard before the double doors, herded into positions by the sentries forming a blockade around us.
I look down at the rows of people, packed as tightly as crops ripe for picking.
Twelve inches apart, shoulder to shoulder, line by line, we stand and wait for the Guardians to come out.
And wait.
And wait.
The ridiculousness of this settles into the marrow of my bones. At how accepting we are. How utterly used I feel. Why I never realized this before.
A few of my neighbors glance up at the sky, their foreheads furrowed in confusion, and I realize that it’s a little too quiet tonight.
The air is stagnant, almost like it’s missing the very thing that produces the wind.
During every other Choosing I’ve been to, the Monster has made his fury loud and clear, but tonight, the blood-red ink stain spilling in a halo around the moon is unmarred by any sound that usually fractures the sky right around now.
You’re too quiet, I tell Lucan. Howl so the Guardians don’t get suspicious.
Look who’s bossy now. His voice rumbles between my legs, making me tense with a shudder, but he obliges.
The next second, it’s his real voice that splits my eardrums, swooping over the courtyard in wave after wave until my neighbors look back down.
The echo inside my head is like the inside of a drum, and I shove down the insane urge to cover my ears and experience it inside myself.
Beside me, Malcolm straightens his shoulders, facing straight ahead, and I hear the creak of the doors as they open.
Like always, I can sense rather than see them, as if they’re wisps on the breeze that suddenly blows through everyone.
The slight stirring in the crowd alerts me to their presence, and Lucan falls silent again as he listens to me concentrate on not moving a muscle—though his fury leaks through me anyway, even more potent than his howls indicate.
Relax, I tell him. I’ve only ever even seen two of them before. I probably won’t even—
The people around me tense. Okay, never mind. Malcolm inhales through his nose, and one of the Guardians prowls into view like a flash of brightest skeleton-white among all the black cloaks.
My stomach bottoms out as I catch sight of him again: the Third Guardian, the one with golden, wavy hair, bone-white skin, and crimson eyes. He weaves slowly through his options, eyeing the colors of the badges around him with his hands clasped casually behind his back.
What are the odds that I see him twice in a row?
Surely, I didn’t accidentally fall into the same exact place I stood last time?
In all my times sneaking through the catacombs, I’ve watched a few other vampires slink past without noticing me hiding in the shadows, but I haven’t seen the Third one down there at all.
Don’t look him in the eye, I remind myself. This will all be over in a couple more minutes.
If one of them fucking touches you… Lucan rumbles.
I can almost see the future five seconds from now.
The Third will approach me like he is now, that small purring sound growing louder in his throat the closer he gets.
He’ll pass me by with a quick glance at my scarlet badge.
His eyes will shift to the person behind me, and he’ll move on to find his Chosen One.
But the Third Guardian doesn’t pass me by.
When he approaches me, he slows, his eyes on my badge—
And then he halts in his tracks and looks up. Right into my eyes.
“Hmmmm.”
His voice nauseates me, and I try to swallow the sudden acid in my throat.
Lucan himself stays silent, but I feel his energy—burning hot with loathing as he realizes who I’m staring at.
A savage possessiveness slams into me, so hard and fast that I almost double over.
The hatred almost spews from my mouth like they’re my own thoughts.
Back the fuck off. She’s mine.
But of course, the Third Guardian doesn’t hear Lucan’s snarling words. He merely tilts his head as he analyzes me, his lips pulling up in a smile to display his fangs.
“Yes, I think you’ll do nicely,” he tells me.
NO!
Whether it’s me screaming in my own head or Lucan, I have no clue.
I don’t even have enough breath left to gasp as the Guardian’s hand—as cold as ice—places itself on the small of my back and gives me a small push.
I stumble forward, and all I can think through the sudden crescendo of frenzied howling that explodes through the air is that I have to hold my chin high. I won’t be walking into my potential grave like a trembling coward.
I’ll kill him, Saskia. Lucan’s voice drags down my spine like claws, as if he’s desperate to hook himself into me, ground me, keep me. But I can’t do anything except put one foot in front of the other. Eventually, he adds, tone grating. Eventually, I’ll rip out his fucking throat. I promise you.
Beside me, Malcolm inhales and raises a hand as if to pull me back. I glance over my shoulder once to give him a look that I hope conveys what I need it to: don’t risk yourself.
His eyes widen. His hand falls back down. I return my gaze to the path that forms ahead as the crowd parts for me and the Third Guardian, his hand like a cattle prod against my back.
Everyone’s eyes follow my trek to the Blood Moon Palace, mixtures of awe and jealousy and admiration pricking me from every direction as they behold one of the newest Chosen Ones.
And as the Monster rages, both beyond the Wall and from within me, I walk through the courtyard with thousands of eyes on me, up the steps to the enormous front doors looming overhead.
Like a gaping mouth ready to swallow me whole.