A Violet Fire (Vampires in Avignon #1) - Kelsey Quick Page 0,41

within the shade of pure darkness. The pain of my blood curdling unnaturally icy beneath my skin. The haunting, and very real possibility that my actions may lead to the death of my best friend, who’s currently comforting me.

But more so, I cry because despite the increased value of what I have to lose, I still want to escape. So badly that I consider unforgivable and gut-wrenching things. Despite the circumstances of this situation being better than expected, the thought of living the remainder of my life in yet another cage doubles me over. I’m not meant for it. I will go insane doing the same monotonous thing day after day to be readily available should Zein ever need me. Hatred reignites in my veins. I need to leave. If only to die a miserable death on my own time, I need that time.

But I can’t lose Savvy.

She strokes my back, consoling me, which fills my heart with even more shame. I leave the comfort of her shoulder and put in distance. For the first time, a wedge develops between us as real as the walls of Nightingale. Our biggest difference, the one we never needed to acknowledge because our friendship was so strong, is creating a fork in our lives. If only she wanted to be free like me. If only I could be as content as her.

“What happened to you?” she prods in a whisper, pushing hair out of my face to better look at me.

“I’m happy to see you,” I say in French, faking a smile.

She grins, dimples assaulting her cheeks as Katarii approaches.

“Wavorly, what happened? Everyone has been...” Katarii looks around the room uncomfortably. The other supply units quickly turn their attention elsewhere and I near shake my head. Why is it always me?

“...worried,” she finishes, quieter now. ”Apparently being summoned so early on is very unusual and the rumors just exploded.”

Great, I think to myself, looking around again as the idle chatter restarts across the room. If I wasn’t a popular conversation topic before, I definitely am now.

Even though all other gazes have left mine, one pair of blue eyes still have the confidence to linger, bitterly. Anaya’s.

“29734,” Anaya hisses my number from across the room. “Now that you’re done feigning sickness, it might be a good time to scrub the troughs.”

The other supply units wrinkle their noses—a few of them even gagging a little.

“The troughs?” I ask.

Katarii enlightens me with a begrudging definition. “The latrines.”

✽✽✽

“Oh my.” Savvy gasps.

A putrid waft fills my nose and burns my eyes. I cover my mouth while muffling an apology to my companions.

“The faster we do it, the faster we can forget it,” Katarii sighs, picking up her pail that’s loaded with an off-colored sponge, a roughly-cut bar of yellow soap, and a scrubbing brush with gunk on the ends. I’m grateful for Katarii’s optimism. Right now, “forgetting it” is enough of a motivator.

The toilet troughs are literally troughs made of wooden “X” beams and steel landings. The steel is old and rusted, and most of the beams are water damaged to the point of rot—though I doubt water has ever been the culprit. It’s clear that the cleaning will not accomplish much—since the stench of sewage is most likely burned into the walls—but we at least give it a good effort.

“So, Lord Zein actually bit you?” Savvy asks off-hand to me. Katarii looks my way briefly before going back to her scrubbing.

“What?” I ask, and Savvy’s eyes drop to my neck.

“Oh… yeah. They have vaccines now.”

She nods. “The others told us. They said vampires prefer to bite, but apparently Lord Zein rarely does.”

“That’s surprising.” I roll my eyes. “Let me guess, he bites when he’s mad?”

She chews on her lip uneasily. “Usually when he doesn’t have time to wait for the kortrastet to pour, actually... but your guess would make sense, too...”

Savvy switches from sponge to brush, awkwardly. “So, did you think you were going to turn into the fallen all the way up until he did it?”

“Yes,” I groan, “Ended up looking like an idiot and passing out after begging him to kill me instead.” I shake my head at myself as I recall that moment. It’s one of those moments that will pop into my brain in the dead of night to remind me of how pathetic I am.

“Wait, you can beg?” Savvy speaks French to me and gives me an incredulous look.

“Shut up.” I laugh, smiling through the horror of getting some foreign substance from