Black City (19 page)

He’s alone in the laboratory, hunched over a microscope, his half-moon spectacles perched on the end of his long nose. On the workbench beside him are beakers filled with a rainbow of pretty, colorful liquids: reds, golds, greens, whites and blues.

I pass the door with the silver marker above it on my way to Craven.
What’s inside there?

“Hello, young lady. What can I do for you?” he says.

I can’t look directly at him—I’m terrified he might see the guilt written all over my face. No one must ever know what I did with Ash.

“I have a science question. We’re covering genetics in biology, and my teacher said that twin-blood hearts don’t beat. Is that right?”

Craven wipes his glasses. “That’s correct.”

“A boy in my class said he knew of a twin-blood who had a heartbeat, but is that even possible? Has it ever happened?”

“I don’t think so. Half-breeds’ hearts don’t beat, because there’s simply no need for them to.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, the official line is that twin-bloods are Damned souls forced to live between the realms of the living and the dead.” Craven raises a skeptical brow. He collects a blood sample from the fridge and places the slide under the microscope. I peer through the lens. Tiny microscopic creatures wriggle around in the blood plasma.

“What are they?”

“
Trypanosoma vampirum.
They’re what keep twin-bloods alive. They feed oxygen to their organs—”

“So their hearts don’t have to do it?”

“Exactly. So it becomes dormant. It’s just one of the many quirks of mixing Darkling and human DNA.”

“Can their hearts ever become . . . er . . .
un
dormant?”

“I’ve never heard of it happening.”

My shoulders slump. I must’ve been imagining things. I mean, I kissed Ash . . . sort of. That’s going to make any girl’s heart pop, right? That’s clearly all it was.

I go upstairs, more confused than ever. I have to talk to him about it tonight at Beetle’s party, but what will I say? I don’t know how I feel about our near kiss. Mother would never forgive me if she found out I was attracted to a Darkling, and I can’t simply forget the fact a Wrath killed my father.
But didn’t he want Darklings and humans to be together, as equals? Would he really mind?

I rub my temples, feeling a headache coming on. There’s no point getting my head in a spin until I know how Ash feels about what happened. First things first. I need to ditch Sebastian somehow, as there’s no way I’m letting him follow me to Beetle’s barge and ruin everything. My best bet is getting a new guard to look after me; I’ll work out how to ditch them when I get to Beetle’s place.

I go to Mother’s room. She’s sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the pearl bracelet in her hand. She’s dressed in a long blue gown, cinched in at the waist to accentuate her fashionably skinny frame, and her glossy black hair is tied up in a bun, giving her gaunt face a stretched look. If I hugged her, I’m sure she’d shatter like glass. I guess it’s lucky she never wants me to touch her.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“I can’t do up the clasp.”

I clip the bracelet around her slim wrist.

“I’m presuming this wasn’t a social call. What do you want?” Mother says.

“I want a new bodyguard.”

“This again?”

“Yes, this again. You know Sebastian and I aren’t dating anymore. It’s getting awkward having him around all the time.” I don’t add that I’ve got a date with a twin-blood tonight and don’t want Sebastian finding out.

“Fine,” Mother says wearily.

“Thanks!” Wow, that was easier than I expected.

“But only in the evenings and weekends. Sebastian will continue to take you to and from school.”

I knew I’d gotten away with that too easily. “Why?”

“Because I said so,” she says.

It’s better than nothing.

I hurry to my bedroom and instantly start searching for the perfect outfit to wear tonight, pulling off my clothes at the same time. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the full-length mirror and pause, my eyes resting on the raised scar scratched down my heart. It was so silly of me to think I’d felt Ash’s heart beating inside me. Like Craven said, it’s not possible. Besides, even if twin-bloods did have a heartbeat, that wouldn’t explain what I felt inside my own chest. The only rational explanation is my heart was overexerted from the sword fighting and I had a funny turn, that’s all.
Then why don’t I believe that?

Half an hour later, I’m dressed and ready, wearing black cropped pants tucked into over-knee boots, a bustier top and Ash’s jacket. I open my bedroom door, and Sebastian’s waiting for me in the hallway.

“You
replaced
me?” he says.

I push past him, checking Father’s watch on my wrist. The crystal is cracked, but I can still just make out the time underneath it: six fifty. I’m going to be late! Sebastian chases after me.

“Get a clue!” I yell at him. “I don’t want you around me anymore, all right?”

“I won’t let you ditch me like this,” he says.

“Get out of my way before I get my new guard to escort you out of the building.”

Sebastian’s jaw clenches, but he steps aside.

My new guard, Malcolm, is waiting for me by the front door. He’s around forty years old, with slicked-back brown hair and eyes that are constantly searching his surroundings.

“Any chance you won’t come?” I say.

He shakes his head, and I roll my eyes.

We go outside. The air feels rinsed after the rain, and I anxiously pat down my hair, trying to tame the frizz. All around us, colorful flags have been strung across the streets in preparation for the Armistice Day celebrations this Saturday. I wonder if Ash still wants to see me tonight. After my running out on him earlier today, I’m probably the last person he wants to see. But maybe (I’m clutching at straws here) he wants to talk about what happened? I mean, I felt his heart beating inside me! I
think.
Oh, I don’t know! It sounds so crazy, but
something
happened.

I’m so busy thinking about Ash that I don’t immediately notice the air temperature around me dropping a few degrees. A sudden electric shock crosses my skin, making my flesh goose pimple, just the way it did during Tracker training when my V-gene triggered. Malcolm stops. He’s sensed it too.

“What?” I whisper.

He surveys our surroundings, checking the shadows for signs of movement.

“Do you see anything?” I ask, my heart hammering. “Is it a rogue Wrath?”

Wraths have been getting over the wall more often these days, mainly because there are so many of them as the disease continues to spread through the Legion ghetto. The Wraths don’t have any fear of being caught by Trackers; that part of their brain has turned off. All they want is to hunt.

“No,” he says quietly. “You can smell those a mile off . . .”

He waits another moment, then signals for me to carry on. His hand doesn’t leave his sword the entire way to Beetle’s boat. I keep close, worrying that the Darkling we sensed was the same one who killed Truffles and followed me to the museum. I can’t feel it anymore, though; perhaps seeing Malcolm scared it off?

“Wait here,” I say to Malcolm when we get to the embankment.

He scowls at me.

“For His Mighty’s sake! I’m going to be on the
barge
with my
friends.
No one’s going to hurt me, and you’ll know exactly where I am. We’ll only be going a short way down the canal.”

He makes a gruff noise that I interpret as “okay.”

The yellow barge is lit with strings of glass lanterns, the kaleidoscope of colored light reminding me of Winterfest. Beetle and Day are already on the deck, drinking Shine from coffee mugs and flirting with each other. Beetle’s normally unruly hair is clean and brushed, and he’s wearing a smart shirt and black pants, while Day is wearing a simple but pretty blue dress. Beetle sees me first and mutters something, which I know isn’t a compliment, given the punch on the arm he receives from Day.

Beetle spots Malcolm watching from the embankment. “Is he coming with us?”

“No. I told him to stay put.”

Day offers me a drink, and I take it, looking past her shoulder for any signs of Ash. My stomach sinks when I can’t see him.

“If it’s just going to be us three, I can go and leave you two alone,” I say.

“Ash is joining us in a minute; he’s waiting under the bridge. I figured you’d bring a guard, so we thought it best he hang back,” Beetle says.

Beetle starts the engine, and a minute later, we’re cruising down the waterway, the chilly air brushing against my skin, the stars sparkling overhead. I wrap my arms around myself, my breath a ghostly mist as it spills out of my parted lips. It’s going to snow soon.

We approach the bridge, and Beetle eases up on the throttle, slowing the boat. There’s a heavy thud as the boat rocks to one side. Ash appears a second later. He’s still dressed in his Tracker uniform from training earlier today and looks oh so gorgeous in the red coatee and black trousers. His black eyes meet mine, and my knees feel weak.

“What are you wearing, bro? It’s not a costume party,” Beetle says.

“It’s just easier walking around the city wearing this. People respect Trackers,” Ash replies.

“That’s not respect—it’s fear, and you of all people should know that. How can you?” Beetle says.

Ash grabs a drink and knocks it back in one hit. “Leave it alone. I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s just a uniform.”

“That’s bull, and you know it,” Beetle replies.

“Fragg off. What do you know about anything?” Ash says. “Do you have any idea what it’s like being a twin-blood in this city? I’m not going to apologize for wanting an easy life for once.”

He takes off the red coatee and tosses it on the bench.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Beetle says to Ash. “We still buddies?”

“Yeah, we’re buddies,” Ash replies.

“Let’s get this party started!” Day says, pouring me another cup of Shine.

Beetle puts on some music and tops off our drinks. I try and focus on what Beetle and Day are saying, but the subconscious part of my mind is fixed on Ash, acutely aware of his presence all around me, my body aching to be touched by him again.

I take a risk and look at him full on, holding his gaze for a second longer than necessary. The air between us crackles, and a thrilling darkness slides over my skin. The Sight. He’s marking me as his prey.
Mine,
he’s silently warning others. I tremble slightly, afraid of the thought of him biting me, but liking the fact that he wants me. It’s so messed up. My head’s telling me he’s dangerous and to run away, but my heart is keeping me here.

Beetle grabs Day and swings her around to the music.

“I’ve missed you,” Beetle whispers to her.

“I’ve missed you too. But we can’t do this.”

“Why not? Don’t you love me anymore?” he says.

“Of course I do. I never stopped loving you. But nothing’s changed. I told you it was either the Haze or me, and you chose Haze.”

“I made a mistake.” He kisses her, hard.

They’re so caught up with each other, they won’t notice if I slip away with Ash for a while. We climb onto the barge’s flat roof and lie down, looking at the stars, our arms pressed against each other. Even through our layers of clothing, crackles of electricity shoot down my arm where we’re touching. We’re so close, I can see the tiny silver flecks in his black eyes.

In the distance is a strange, eerie music. Often you can hear Darklings singing to each other inside the Legion ghetto; songs of woe, songs of celebration. Tonight, the song is beautiful and joyous.

“What are they singing?” I whisper.

“The Blood Vow,” Ash explains.

“What’s that?”

“When a Darkling finds a Blood Mate, they sing the vow to consummate their union, like wedding vows. It roughly translates as ‘So begins my heart, so begins our life, everlasting.’ They then feed on each other to seal the bond.”

“That’s both beautiful and utterly gross,” I say, half jokingly.

Ash stands up, making the boat rock slightly. Tilting his head up to the sky, he lets out a long, low howl. Somewhere from the Legion ghetto, another Darkling howls back at him. Then he sits down.

“What did you say to them?” I ask.

“It’s hard to translate—it’s more an expression of an emotion. I was telling them ‘love.’”

“It must be hard for you, being so close to them and not being able to see them.”

He sighs. “I’m used to it.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“What for? It’s not your fault.”

I prop myself up on my elbow. “Do you miss your Darkling family?”

“I’ve never met them. I’m not even sure they’re alive.”

“Maybe the wall will come down one day and you’ll get to meet them,” I say.

“I doubt it. Besides, even if it did, I’m not sure they’d want to see me. My mom’s family didn’t approve of me.”

“Because you’re a twin-blood?” I say.

He nods. “A lot of them turned their back on Mom when she married my dad.”

“It must’ve been tough growing up in a mixed-race family.”

“Actually, it wasn’t so bad. Our neighbors were mostly tolerant of us, and we had a lot of friends. My dad was one of the few ministers in the city who did both human and Darkling sermons, so my parents were very active in both communities. Obviously that all changed when segregation started.”

He doesn’t need to say any more. Even though I was only a child when segregation began, I remember how quickly friends turned on each other just because they weren’t of the same race.

“You mentioned your parents split up?” I say, remembering his conversation with Martha at the market.

“Yep,” he says, not meeting my eye.

I anxiously play with my watch strap, worried I’ve said the wrong thing.

“Isn’t that a man’s watch?” he asks.

I nod. “My father’s.”

“I’m sorry about your loss,” he says sincerely. “It must’ve been hard for you.”

“I guess.” It doesn’t feel right talking about my grief to Ash, when my father was involved in sending the Darklings to the Barren Lands to die during the war. He was a faithful follower of Purian Rose until he saw the horrors of the concentration camps. That was the turning point for my father. That’s when he flipped sides.