Darkness Falls (23 page)

 We continue on with our journey, passing by building after building with no sign of life.

“Maybe I should start checking inside them,” I suggest after a while.

He considers this, eyes locked on a large triangular building stacked of fractured glass. “It seems kind of dangerous. You know that’s where they hide out during the day.”

“That’s why
I’ll
go in.” I step for the building, but he pulls me back. “We’re never going to find him if we just wander up and down the streets.”

“I told you I can track him down,” he says. “It’s just going to take some time.”

“By time also means giving people time to find us,” I say. “And darkness is coming quick, so we’re running out of time.” I go to move again, but he draws me back. “Aiden, this is getting us nowhere.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but then snaps it shut, dropping his hold on me as he pulls out his knife. “We’re being tracked.”

My ears instantly perk.  “I don’t hear anyone.”

His breathing is loud and erratic and I notice how unsteady his hands are. “That’s because they don’t have a heartbeat.”

Before I can respond, he’s running up the street, staying in the shadows that the buildings make. I chase after him, drawing out my knife. 

“No vampires are out yet,” I hiss. “Whoever it is has to have a heartbeat.”
Unless they’re me.

“No.” He shakes his head, peering into a store filled with shredded t-shirts and hats. “That’s not true.”

We pause at the edge of a street, our backs pressed against the brick walls of a building. Aiden’s heart is an anxious mess as he peeks around the corner, out into the next street. His head snaps back hastily and I lean over, wanting to see what he saw, but he elbows me back.

“Kayla, I haven’t been completely honest with you,” he whispers, his hand on my chest, holding me in place.

My protective instincts kick into gear and without even thinking, I slide to the side and jump in front of him, putting my knife to his throat and backing him to the wall.

“What are you doing?” His words rush out, panicked.

“Protecting myself,” I say steadily. “The last time you weren’t completely honest with me, I almost wound up dead.”

“No, it’s not like that.” He moves as far away from my knife as he can, his hands up in front of him. “This was to protect you, not hurt you. I swear.” He holds up his hands and carries my gaze, frantic for me to believe him.

I lower my knife, but don’t put it away. “Start talking.”

He nods. “Okay, but first we need to get off the streets.”

I glance through the smashed glass window behind us and then stick my head inside. Chairs are knocked upside down, tables turned over, crushed glass piles the floor. I step through the crunching glass and do a quick hunt for any signs this place might be a nesting area for vampires.

I stick my head out. “All clear.”

He hops through the broken window and hauls a table over to it. He flips it up on its side and shoves it against the window, locking away the outside. I latch the front door locked and as an extra precaution, prop a chair against the door knob. 

He lets out a tired breath, sweat dripping from his brow as he turns a chair over and sinks down in it.  “I’m really sorry.” He pants. “But this one I kept from you for your own good to protect you.”

I flip my knife in my hand, letting him know I still have it out. “Protect me from what?”

“From yourself.” He rests his head back, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling. “If you found out, I knew you’d freak.”

“I don’t freak about anything.” I move in front of him and dip the blade of my knife for his throat. “I thought you knew me.”

“I do know you,” he says. “Better than anyone. And that’s why I know that this is going to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.”

I cross my arms and stare him down. “Try me and let’s see if you’re right.”

He raises his head, reaching for a chair, and drags it beside him. “Sit down.” He pats the seat and I sit, laying my knife of my lap, just in case.

“You know how some call the vampires the living undead?”

“People call them that,” I say. “Because that’s what they are. The virus killed them, took away their pulse, their breath, yet they still walk.”

He drops his head in his hands. “Right, but they’re not the only ones walking around without a pulse.”

Does he know about me? “What’d you mean?”

He raises his head. “I’m talking about the things that are between human and vampire, ones that aren’t quite dead but aren’t quite alive.”

“I’ve never heard of anything like that,” I say, the silence of my own body almost maddening.

“That’s because they’re not that common.”

I shake my head. “I think they might be more common than you think.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Have you  seen one before?”

 “No,” I say. “But I think I might be one.”

I become painfully aware of what I am.  Ever since I’ve left The Colony, my heart has been as soundless as the vampires.

“You’re not one of them, at least not the ones I’m talking about.” He turns in his chair so he’s facing me. “All Bellators are kind of like them when they’re first thrown out. We’re technically dead when we wake up from The Gathering, just like the vampires. But eventually your heart starts beating again, after time.”

I think of Maci and how her heart was fully alive again, right before we left. “How long does it take for, you know, the heart to start beating again?”

“Yours will,” he assures me, like he knows it hasn’t. “Just give it sometime—some are just a little bit slower than others.”

That’s ironic, considering how fast I am. But I nod. “Why didn’t you just say this in the first place? I’ve been worried about it.”

He takes a deep breath, struggling for words. “There’s more to it than just the heart restarting. Once you start returning to your normal self, you lose things like your strength and speed, your fighting skills.”

Every part of my body feels like it’s sinking. “So I’ll become weak, and eventually I won’t be able to fight anymore.”

“You’ll be able to fight,” he mutters quietly. “You just won’t be as strong.”

“So I’ll lose my strength.” I stare at the ground, eyes wide. “I’ll lose everything.”

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” he says, taking my hands. “Eventually, you’ll get used to it. In fact, you might even prefer it.” He lets go of my hands and stands. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I know you enough to know you’d take it hard. I mean, you were always so into the fighting thing, you know. More than any other Bellator.”

“Is that why the vampires are afraid me?” I ask. “Will that change when my heart starts again?”

“No. That I was honest about. No one, at least as far as I know, has ever walked with them like you do.” He pauses. “Kayla, I think we should keep that a secret. I mean, you saw how Dominic reacted to it—he tried to kill you over it.”

No he didn’t. He tried to kill me because, for some reason, he thinks I’m a Higher. That’s what I should have said at the moment; I should have put it out there and gotten the worry off my chest. But all I do is nod, locking the secret deeper away.

“We need to get out of here.” Aiden changes the subject as he peers over the table through a crack, staring out into the street. “I think whoever’s tracking us is gone, for now anyway.”

“You never said who’s tracking us.” I move to the side of him and peer out. “Or do you even know?”

He pauses, like he was hoping I’d forget. “The ones who decided not to let their hearts start beating again.

My mind frazzles. “That just goes against everything you just told me.”

“No it doesn’t.” He backs away from the window. “Your heart will start beating again. These guys, they just chose not to.”

“How? How do they keep it from starting?”

“I have no idea,” he says, but I’m sure he’s lying because the inside of him is a nervous wreck. “What I do know though, is you wouldn’t want to be like them.”

My eyes narrow. “Like who?”

“Hopefully, you won’t have to find out.”

He doesn’t say anything else and I consider throwing him down and threatening him until he spills whatever it is he’s withholding, but the winking of darkness warns us that it’s time.

“Where are we going to hide for the night?” I ask. “In here?”

He darts off for the back of the store, which is a torn up kitchen with shelves that hang crookedly across the faded walls and pots rust away on the chipped tile floor. He rummages through the cupboards and drawers, tossing out whatever he comes across.

I lean against the doorway, watching him. “So we’re just staying here for the night,” I assume.

He pulls out a can of food and shakes it. “It’s as good a place as any.”

I glance around the deserted store, which is similar to every other vacant store in the city. “I guess so … but I think it might be better if we go up higher. Like maybe the roof.”

“No.” He bangs around in the bottom cupboards, knocking around pots and pans. “The vampires might not go looking for us up there, but
they
will.”

“They as in the ones without the heart beat,” I say. “The ones like me.”

“They’re not like you.” He snaps a cupboard shut. “Your heart will beat again. I know it will.”

I squat down beside him. “What are they like? These half-vampire, half-human’s? Do they have a name? Do they drink blood? What makes them so frightening?”

“They’re killers, Kayla. That’s all that’s important.” He stares at a can, his eyes burning intensely. “They’ve killed some of The Gathering members before.” His heart knocks against his chest and his hands shake, upset.

“Did they kill someone you know?” I soften my voice.

He blinks the pain away and stands, moving to a row of drawers.

I stand, setting my knife on the counter. “What are you looking for?”

His eyes light up as his hand reaches inside an open drawer. “For these.” He holds up a box of matches and shakes them.

“Are you planning on starting a fire? Because the streets have plenty of them I’m sure you could borrow.”

He shakes his head and puts the matches into his pocket. “No, I’m going to cook us dinner,” he says, already heading into the other room.

Picking up my knife, I follow him, taking my time, deciding how long I’m going to let this secret keep going on. Aiden is setting up a few chairs, like we’re formally dining. Then he heats up two cans of food over a small flame in the middle of the floor where he builds a small fire. When he’s done, he hands me a can and starts eating out of the other, scooping the food out with his hands.

“So how long until you forgive me?” he asks and scoops out a bite of food.

I take a small bite of my food, which tastes more awful than anything I’ve ever tasted.  “Forgive you for what?”

He chews on his food. “For lying to you.”

“I already have.” I smile, a big plastic smile, just like I used to do all the time.