my muscles tense.
“But you are required to,” I state.
His eyes shift wearily to mine. “I didn’t purchase you from Saya. I owe them nothing, regarding you.”
I swallow thickly. I guess I should believe this, too? I sigh. Right now, though, does it even matter?
I rest my head against him and nod, giving up the fight, begging myself to let go and trust his word. Even though I want to ask, “Why me?” I don’t. I don’t want to know that anymore. Instead, I say, “Thank you,” for many things. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for remaining patient. Thank you for saving my life.
My breaths fall in line with his, each comforting me in a sweet and intangible rhythm. A certain memory resurfaces, unprovoked, from the depths of my mind, from the cold, dark infirmary within the Distribution hall. From the doctor’s cracked lips as he suspended water tantalizingly over my mouth,
“Do you truly think that if you lived a free life you would give your blood to a vampire in need? Even if it left you bed-ridden for a few hours, could you find yourself selfless enough to do so?”
My brows furrow slightly.
“…Yes,” I think to myself with a completely altered state of reasoning. “If Zein is the recipient, I would.”
chapter 15
When the chariot hits the ground to charter the last of the trip by land, Zein rises and takes his leave from the main cabin.
“I need to inform Narref of the procedures from here forward. I will return shortly.”
I sit up and examine the cabin more thoroughly, anxious to find a window or something of the sort. A narrow, though long, metal handle hangs inconspicuously above my head on the wall, attached to a plank that seems cut off from the rest. Aha.
I push the plank to the left, and it slides across the smooth wood, opening the cabin to an effervescent dawn. Once my eyes adjust to the refreshing rays, I take in the rounded green mountains in the distance, cluttered with hundreds of acres full of thousands of red and orange maples at their bases. Lush. Lively. Not at all like the blackened grey tunnels that suddenly envelop the chariot.
The long passageways are drilled through the mountainside and are manned sporadically with soldiers—though they are much more sinister than the ones at Zein’s castle. Black leather and scathed armor from head to foot, and obscenely long, open-jawed masks with jewel-encrusted eyes. The entire ensemble creates a terrifying contortion of a demon’s face, like an inane monster laughing over a mutilated carcass.
The exit to the tunnels reveals several rows of the same soldiers with the same deranged masks. Every one of them has an arm crossed over his heart, and a face turned downward while our convoy passes through. Showing their respect for Zein, no doubt. Beyond them is a girth of cityscape made from painted, galvanized steel and chiseled, dying brick. Glass windows are covered with thick black curtains—shaming the sunlight—while large diamond street-lanterns still needlessly flicker a dim blue over the tar-black concrete.
The rows of guards start to seem endless, like a consistent, recurring pattern, a cyclical picture, until one fine detail mars the uniformity. A mask, rather than turned down toward the ground, is turned lopsided in my direction. Looking straight at me, even swiveling to follow my eyes as the chariot advances past. Out of instant, and irrepressible fear, I shut the paneled window. As the plank locks back into place, the sectional door to the cabin slams open and I jump.
Zein is standing there. “What happened?”
“Huh?”
He narrows his eyes. “Your scent spiked.”
I forgot that he had the typical vampire ability to sense fear. “I was looking out the window and—”
“Leave the windows closed.” He glances to the now-shut panel, and then back to me.
“Remember that I have a reputation to protect. I cannot have anyone seeing you in my personal cabin.”
“Right,” I say as cold reality smacks me in the face.
Zein changes the subject. “Once we arrive, Ceti will come to dress you. Until then, sit still.”
“Okay,” I say a bit too shortly.
Zein closes the door again, resuming the business he evidently has on the other side.
Eventually we stop and Ceti enters the chariot. A pastel purple dress, covered by a white silken robe that scatters the floor, drapes over the thin vampire. She walks toward me with passion, every step calculated and fluid, like every movement of her life is driven by music.
“Hello, my love! What an honor to be in