Blood Day (25 page)

“I’ve gotten mixed up with someone who is very dangerous,” Mike said at last. He still wouldn’t look at her. “Someone worse than them. Someone they’re real goddamn afraid of.”

“That explains the bounty,” said Viv. “They never offer that much.”

“He’s not someone you can ignore,” said Mike. “But he wants the same thing we do. He wants the Revs gone.”

“Who is he?”

“They used to be like him,” said Mike. “Do you remember the Dark Days? Some people don’t. All the Slack and fear. It broke a lot of people.”

“I remember,” said Viv softly. “I won’t ever forget.”

“Right,” said Mike, glancing at her again. “Sorry, Viv. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s all I have left,” said Viv. “The pain of losing him.”

“Do you remember how they were? Back before Conrad defanged them. Do you remember?”

Viv searched her memory. All she could come up with was a feeling: Cold, bowel-chilling terror. She shuddered.

“They did something to my mind during the Blackout,” said Viv. “I know it was terrifying.”

“They looked human,” said Mike. “Right up until they ripped you apart. And then they changed. Their bloodfaces, that’s all they have left now. They’re more tame, without the ferocity. They’re almost helpless now. A single germ and they’re gone. They’re fragile without the rage that made them strong. They don’t kill anymore, and that weakened them. And now if they kill, and drink the blood, it twists them, makes them sick, crazy. Eventually it kills them. They’ve made things so sanitary they can’t survive the way they used to. They’ve changed their own DNA for the worse.”

Viv was staring at him, wide-eyed. “How do you know about this?”

“Whispers,” said Mike, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “What the Revs talk about when they think they’re alone. They used to be able to read our minds, wipe our memories. That’s why you don’t remember them before. They’ve always been in the shadows, and there’s at least one who always will be. He’ll never stop. Not until they’re all dead. And then he can go back to being the monster no one remembers. The beast who feeds on us like cattle. But you know what, Viv?” He finally looked at her, met her eyes. “It’s better that way. It’s better to be occasionally hunted than brought to our knees. At least if we’re hunted, we remember how to live. At least when we’re dying we have something to make it all worth it. This isn’t life. Survival doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have something to survive for.”

“Who is he?” said Viv.

Mike swallowed, staring at her. She saw fear in his eyes. And something else, something like acceptance.

“Joshua Flynn,” he whispered.

“And this Joshua Flynn,” said Viv. “What has he asked you to do?”

Mike looked away from her again. She could see the pulse jumping in his neck by the streetlight shining down on them.
 

“Just one last thing,” said Mike. “One last thing and he’ll forget he knows me.”

Viv was silent for a few moments.

“I’m going to poison them,” she said. “That’s what’s happening tomorrow.”

“Poison?” said Mike. “How?”

“Blood, fresh blood. Germs and all,” said Viv. “Griff, he left a note in an old book. Maybe it wasn’t meant for me, maybe he just wrote it down so he wouldn’t forget, but I figured it out.They purify the blood. That’s my job. All the blood is going to be processed in one place so Conrad can keep an eye on it. One drink of raw blood and they’re gone. And all I have to do is drop it in in the machine after the purification has taken place. I just have to figure out how to do it without being seen.”

“You work at the experimental hospital,” said Mike, realization in his voice.
 

“I’m the administrator,” said Viv. “There’s a big party tomorrow. They won’t say what it is, but lots of Revs are coming in. Important Revs. I’m going to use it.”

“We may see each other again after tonight, then,” said Mike. “I’m going there too.”

“No one should go there,” said Viv. “It’s an evil place. You could run, Mike. I know you had all that money you were hiding. Take it and go.”

“Where would I go?” he said. “There’s nowhere to run, Viv. Besides, I gave it all away.”

“What? Why?”

“Because my friend is young and he might outlive all this.”

“The man you were arguing with.”

“He wanted me to come with him,” said Mike. “He wanted to save me. But he couldn’t even save himself. He’ll be lucky if he’s alive more than a week.”

“So why did you help him?”

“Because he had hope,” said Mike. “I envy him for that. Even if it’s simply a hope to save his own skin.”

“Why are you going to the experimental hospital, Mike?” said Viv.
 

Mike hesitated. “I have to help someone. I have to save her.”

“Why?”

“So the monster will have hope and save us all.”

“Won’t he just keep killing us?”

“Yes he will,” said Mike. “But then he becomes a story. He’s not in front of us, he’s not a reality. He’s just another boogeyman in the dark. We step into the light, and we can forget. We can live and hope and be human again. We can dream again.”

“They’re not going to simply kill you if they catch you, Mike. You know that.”

“I know,” he said, with a grim smile.

He abruptly turned and opened the door and Viv did the same. Mike stood at the trunk, looking out across the road.

“That’s odd,” he said, turning the key in the trunk. Viv looked down at the lumpy, body-sized package wrapped up in the trunk. The streetlight reflected off the garbage bags, making it shine.

“What’s odd?” said Viv. “That I killed a horrible man and you’re helping me dispose of the body?”

“No,” said Mike. “There was a van here. A Mover van. Someone must have taken it.”

Viv paused. “Why was there a Mover van here?”

Mike didn’t look at her, but bent over and lifted the body half out of the trunk.

“Because there’s a couple of dead Movers down there,” he said. “And a mobster named Matthew. I didn’t kill them. Matthew killed the Movers and Joshua Flynn killed Matthew.”

“And one more body won’t raise an eyebrow,” said Viv.

“It’s not like they’re going to investigate,” said Mike.
 

“You really need to get some safer hobbies, Mike.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “You’re one to talk.”

“You think we’ll be alive come tomorrow?”
 

Mike shook his head. “If we are, we should go for a drink.”

“If I make it out of this alive,” said Viv, “I’m never drinking again.”

“A cup of coffee then,” he said.

“It’s a date,” said Viv.
 

She lifted the dead man by his feet while Mike took his head and they hauled him into the basement. And there they left him, tossing the black plastic garbage bags into a nearby dumpster three blocks away. Viv marveled on the ride home how easy it was, to dispose of a dead man. And she thought about how, in the end, spitting on Tom’s corpse felt far too good for comfort.

“You shouldn’t have had that last drink, Tom,” she murmured. And then she put him out of her head forever.

It was that easy.

Twenty-Two

Sia sipped coffee by the open window. She felt the frigid wind blow in, making her face numb and her coffee cool. It helped to make her alert. She had always liked the cold, ever since she could remember.

She hadn’t slept at all. Thoughts and memories of Joshua Flynn washed over her all night long. The dark eyes that haunted her dreams were real, he was real, and he wasn’t someone who she wanted to kill. Just the opposite. She was here for a reason, and now she remembered what it was.

Ana, her sweet girl, as perfect as a song, was here. And she was going to find her and take her away.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Sia called, not turning from the window. Big, wet, black clouds were rolling sluggishly in from the distance. It would snow tonight, Sia could smell it in the air. A blizzard perhaps.

“Ma’am?” said a high voice from behind her. “Madame Briar sent these for you. Where would you like them?”

Sia glanced at the girl carrying a cream-colored garment and something that looked like a hat box. The girl made Sia think of Evelyn Hauser as a young woman. Eager to please those in charge, though this one had not yet found her steel backbone. At least that was how Sia had seen Evelyn Hauser in the beginning. Ever since Sia had played for her, the old woman had seemingly aged twenty years and walked around with a pained expression. Sia avoided her in the halls because the old nurse would just look at Sia with a simpering, pathetic expression, a quiver on her lip. Sia felt no sympathy. Evelyn had tortured her, made her feel like nothing. Before she remembered who she was, Evelyn had showed nothing but contempt for Sia.

Sia motioned to the bed. “Just leave it,” she said. She turned back to the window and sipped her cold coffee.

“You didn’t sleep last night,” said the girl. Sia turned to see the girl fussing with the still-made bed.

“I don’t sleep at night,” said Sia.
 

“You’re not sleeping now either,” said the girl, “and it’s daytime.”

“I don’t sleep much at all any more,” said Sia.

“I can bring you something to help you,” said the girl. “A sleeping pill to help you relax. It’s a big night tonight. Everyone’s talking about it.”

“Big for whom?” said Sia, raising a critical eyebrow. The girl quailed under her cold eyes. It didn’t please Sia to frighten the girl, but she didn’t plan to go to any Revenant party.
 

“Mathilde said to give you a message,” the girl said nervously.

“I’m listening,” said Sia, turning back to the window. She watched the trees that now filled up the courtyard. A forest of twisted trunks and black flowers, forever green, even in the snow. She looked for movement, but she saw none. Good. Joshua must let her do this. She was strong enough now. She had to do this by herself. She would not be the weak woman with the powerful lover. She wanted to be powerful too. She would take her daughter and bring everyone to their knees. Joshua and Ana and Sia.

“She said to tell you that the party wasn’t optional. That if you don’t attend the party, then your deal is off. She said you would know what she meant.”

Sia set her cup down with a clink. She felt the girl jump behind her.

“You can go now,” said Sia.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said. She opened the door.

“Wait,” said Sia, turning. “Are you on the nursing staff?”

“Of course,” she said. Sia looked at the name tag on her chest. C. Avery.

“What’s your name?”

“Christine,” said the girl, blushing a bit in her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Her hair was red and pulled back in a tight ponytail.
 

“Christine,” said Sia. The name felt so plain on her lips. “You should stay away from this place, Christine. It’s not going to be very safe here.”

“Because of the Revs?” she said with wide eyes. “Don’t be silly. They’re our protectors now.”
 

“As you wish,” said Sia. “But it won’t be said that I didn’t try. I’m not cruel.”

Christine left, closing the door silently. Sia went back to the window and closed it. She looked up at the storm clouds in the distance. It may as well have been evening, rather than mid-morning. Sia put her forehead to the cold glass.

“I’m not cruel,” she said again. “I am not a monster.” The silent room didn’t argue with her as she closed her eyes against the glass and tried to cry. The tears wouldn’t come and she felt colder than the frozen windowpane.
 

Sia pulled herself together and washed her face. She rang the bell and asked the bearded attendant to bring her tea, piping hot. Then she held up the cream silk dress Christine had brought. It was beautiful. Simple and elegant, it had no frills or beads or sequins. Just a soft, gathered neckline, and a hem that would come just above the toes of her shoes, which were set neatly beside the dress. Simple cream satin pumps to match the color of the dress perfectly. Sia would have gladly worn such an ensemble for one of her concerts, back when such things were possible. She opened the large hat box, and instantly dropped it in surprise. Recovering, she reached into the box and brought out the odd object. A mask, covered in silk, with pure white feathers adorning the holes where her eyes would go. It looked like the mask of a plague doctor, with a long, pointed nose like a beak, only dressed up like royalty.
 

Sia remembered Mathilde’s words then:
It is to be a masquerade.
Sia had forgotten.
 

“A masquerade,” Sia said to herself, holding up the mask. The princess in a plague mask. She set it back in the box, gently so as not to damage the feathers, then sat on the bed.

She could call for Joshua. He was always nearby. She could sense him now, ever in the shadows, should she need him. She could call him and he would come and help her, take them away from all this, kill everyone who had harmed her here, anyone who even crossed her path. He would kill them all for her.

What sort of a woman would that make her? She’d spent her whole life struggling to be known by her own merit. She’d never used her looks or her body to get ahead. She’d made it clear to everyone she ever met that she was not just her face, not just her body. She had a magnificent gift and she knew it, spending every waking moment from childhood honing her talents. Until she was better than everyone else. Until she was the best. The moment she began to play, it was evident that she was not to be dismissed, she was cold fire within a pleasing package. The only person she could never impress was her own mother.
 

Sia remembered now. She’d gone to Philadelphia on the night train, Joshua at her side. He had come to her every night since the night she played for him. For a time, she would awaken confused, her fingers bloody from playing, unaware of the events of the night before. But in time, she kept the memories, she recalled the passionate nights of making the most beautiful music she had ever made, with Joshua watching her quietly, his dark eyes piercing into her. And then, the passionate nights were not all about music, but the two of them. No beginning and no ending to them, Joshua much warmer than she’d fantasized he would be, his mouth much hotter and sweeter that she thought was possible in a man.