The Coldest Girl in Coldtown (14 page)

She wondered what he’d done to get those boots.

Please
, she thought.
Please, no more. Please, no more horrors tonight
.

“The gates of Coldtown are close as my own shadow,” Gavriel said. His wine-colored eyes studied her in her new dress and combed hair, as if he was trying to memorize the way she looked. It made her conscious that she was wearing barely more than a slip, and she pulled at the hem awkwardly. “You can turn me over to the guards when we arrive. There’s a reward for vampires, I’m told.”

Tana gave Aidan a look, remembering what he’d said at the gas station. “I wonder who might have mentioned that.”

Just then, Midnight came up behind Tana, looking between Gavriel and Aidan intently. “Is he okay?” She tucked blue hair behind her ears.

“He will be,” said Gavriel. “He’ll be a new creature made from old skin.”

Aidan tilted his head toward Midnight. “Sorry about—you know. I want to come to Coldtown with you.”

Tana wanted to object to his giving up on getting better, but resisting blood would just get harder with time. He was being realistic. And who was she to tell him to throw away immortality?

Midnight gave him a wavering smile. Winter, behind her, glowered. He had two overstuffed black garbage bags slung over one shoulder and a beat-up suitcase hanging from his other hand.

Since listening to her phone messages, an awful numb calmness had settled over Tana, one which she was afraid to consider too closely, one which fed on bad ideas and adrenaline. She ached to
make awful choices, to drown out all her thoughts in a cacophony of
doing
. She wished it was an unfamiliar feeling, that ache, the urge that made her hit the gas when she ought to hit the brake.

She hoped this wasn’t one of those decisions.

But she couldn’t imagine pleading with her father through the door to let her in, couldn’t imagine trying to prove that she wasn’t infected—if she even turned out not to be—and didn’t want to upset Pearl.

Sometimes it seemed as though all her life was already used up in that dark basement, as if her mother’s mouth on Tana’s arm was the last thing in her life before this that had felt
real
. Everything else was just prologue and epilogue. A grace period of pretending that her life was going to be like other people’s, that the bite didn’t mark her as already touched by darkness, fated for darkness, a girl with one foot already in the grave.

“Instead of money, you can get a marker if you’re turning in a vampire,” Tana said, her mind finally starting to plan a future for herself, one where she came out ahead, one where she could survive. “A marker that lets one person out of Coldtown. We could get one of those.
I
could get one of those, if Gavriel will let me turn him in.”

She’d seen pictures of markers, silver and iron disks with symbols around the outer rim, gold at the center surrounding a small hole, and supposedly some kind of chip inside. There was an heiress who ran away to Coldtown; her parents, hoping to lure her out, hired bounty hunter after bounty hunter to get markers for her. She made a necklace out of them and wore it to the Eternal Ball every night until a gang member slit her throat and sold them off to the highest bidder.
If Tana went inside with Gavriel and Aidan now, she’d be going to Coldtown with a way out. If she went Cold and got caught later, she’d be chucked into a Coldtown anyway and then she’d be stuck there.

Her nihilistic plan was actually starting to make sense.

“Tana,” Gavriel began. “You should not—”

“Yes, please come, Tana,” Aidan said, cutting him off. He grinned in that persuasive way he had, half as if he’d be lost without you and half as if he thought he’d done you a favor by suggesting the thing you secretly wanted. “Think of all the fun we’re going to have. Midnight’s going to show us around, right? She forgives me, doesn’t she?”

“I don’t know. That really hurt,” Midnight said lightly, a teasing half smile on her mouth. Her gaze was hungry, though, focused on Aidan and Gavriel. Every part of her vibrated with the desire to be as they were. Changed or changing.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Aidan said, and his expression was a match for hers, full of greedy desire.

“You know what I want in return,” Midnight said silkily. “We didn’t tell on you. We proved we’re worthy. Your friend’s probably hungry and if he wants, he can—”

Gavriel grabbed her chin before she could even gasp, swift and deadly as a shark rising from the depths. “Unless I am much mistaken, you told
everyone
. I saw your phone; do you think I don’t know what it does? I should drain you both and leave your bodies as a warning to those who seek death as if it were some hidden treasure.”

Midnight’s skin was flushed, her eyes bright with want. It was as
though the words rolled past her and all she saw was the nearness of his mouth. Tana took a step closer, despite herself, drawn into the same delusion.

“Let her go,” Winter said. He pulled at Gavriel’s shoulder, but the vampire boy didn’t move.

“Perhaps Midnight and I should show Aidan what it is to truly feed, what it would be like for him if he tasted blood.” He spoke the words sweetly against Midnight’s ear, as if to a lover. She swayed against him, his arm coming up and tightening, holding her in place. She looked confused then, instinct tinting her expression with the beginnings of panic. “I can hear your heart beating, like a wounded animal hurling its broken body against the walls of its cage. A pretty song.”

Tana thought of what Gavriel had said in the car.
There is a madness that comes over us… a madness that can be cured only by feeding
. Gavriel had given some of his blood to Aidan—that’s what he’d obviously been intending to do when he sent them away. And how else could Aidan be so much better, unless something hadn’t taken the edge off his craving?

But that meant Gavriel must be very hungry.

“We don’t have time for this,” Tana said desperately, trying to sound reasonable despite her frayed nerves. “Gavriel. We have to get to the gate before dawn. There might be paperwork—or a line. It’s not safe to stay here anymore.”

Gavriel wasn’t looking at her. He contemplated Midnight’s throat.

“It’s definitely not safe to
kill someone
here,” Tana said, louder, touching his arm. It had worked in the past, being calm, acting as
though everything was normal. She hoped it would work again. “Gavriel, we have to go. Stop being so scary.”

At that, he looked over and smiled again, spinning Midnight in his arms as if they’d been dancing. Winter caught her and held her upright.

“I can wait a little longer,” Gavriel said. “A very little longer.”

“The car keys,” Tana demanded, holding out a trembling hand. He fished in his pockets—an utterly normal gesture—then dropped them into her palm ceremoniously. She picked up the bag of cash and jewels from beside the hood of the car, shoving it into her purse.

“I won’t always obey you,” he said softly. “One night you will ask me for something I cannot give.”

She’d started to relax, but his words sent a fresh spike of terror up her spine. Marching to the driver’s side, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before she got in, then slamming the door behind her. She was shaking again and mad about it.

“What is it about vampires?” Aidan muttered as he walked toward the car. “Only ever interested in biting people that don’t want to get bit.”

Midnight sniffed, offended. “He was interested.”

“Didn’t bite, though,” said Aidan, getting into the backseat of the car.

“Midnight.” Winter touched his sister’s arm. His voice carried in the parking lot. “We don’t have to go with them.”

She looked at him coldly. “No more birthdays.”

Tana turned the ignition, listening to the comforting growl of
the motor and inhaling the faintly burnt-plastic scent of the heater. The clock on the dashboard read a little after two in the morning. Gavriel took shotgun; Winter and Midnight joined Aidan in the back. Winter made sure he got in before his sister, positioning himself in the middle like some kind of chaperone—as if, when the infection kicked back into high gear, Aidan was going to care whom he attacked. Not to mention that Aidan liked boys just fine anyway.

It was easy to get to Coldtown, even without looking at a map. All Tana had to do was follow the path of warning signs.
RESTRICTED ACCESS 15 MILES
, the first one said, sending her turning onto an empty four-lane road riddled with potholes. They passed abandoned industrial parks, large dirt lots with the burnt-out remains of cars, scrub bushes, and shadow.

The original barricades had annexed about a third of a small city, but by the time the towering gates were built, more like half the city was considered under quarantine. The walls of the Coldtowns went up with lots of regular people trapped inside. The rest moved as far away as they could as quickly as they could. Every house they passed was dark inside.

They drove for a couple of miles until Gavriel said, “You’re going to have to restrain me.”

She looked at him in alarm, her hands jerking the wheel. The car swerved in its lane.

The vampire grinned lopsidedly, showing one sharp tooth. “There’s a checkpoint coming in maybe a mile. If I’m to be your captive, I must look the part. Otherwise, I’m bound to make them nervous.”

“A checkpoint?” Aidan said, leaning forward in his seat. “Like, cops?”

“Homeland Security,” said Winter. “And sometimes the National Guard. He’s right. People posted about them on the boards. They’re just going to ask us what we’re doing here. Probably try and tell us we’re not allowed through. But they can’t keep us out; they just bluster.”

Midnight looked up from her phone. “Gate guards think anyone who wants to live inside is scum.” Her tone was acid.

“They’re not going to think that since we’ve got him with us. They’re going to think we’re badass bounty hunters,” said Aidan.

Tana pulled onto the dirt shoulder of the highway with a sigh. In the distance, behind a stretch of trees and down a slight hill, she could see a McDonald’s with all the windows smashed in and graffiti covering the booths inside.

“How did you know about the checkpoint?” Midnight asked Gavriel softly, leaning forward in her seat so that she was asking the question over his shoulder.

“Research,” he told her, then he turned to Tana. “Once we’re there, you must go home. Death has passed you by twice, Tana. Don’t court him a third time.”

“No, she’s got to come with us,” Aidan said, leaning into the gap between seats. “You are coming, aren’t you, Tana? You won’t let me go on this adventure alone, will you?”

“There is nothing for her beyond those gates,” Gavriel said. “Do you think to bring her along like a talisman to remind you of your humanity? Or do you think sharing your damnation will lighten the burden of it?”

“You seem to like her,” Midnight said archly. “Maybe she’ll lighten your burden instead of his.”

Gavriel gave her a look as though he might reach into the backseat and snap her neck. Then he threw back his head and laughed an eerie, wild laugh. “Clever girl. You play with fire because you want to be burnt.”

“
Midnight
,” Winter said through clenched teeth.

Tana got out of the car, slamming the door behind her. The trunk was already half open, Gavriel having bent it when he kicked his way free at the gas station; it didn’t close right anymore. She fished for the chain beneath Winter and Midnight’s garbage bags, willing her breathing to even out.

Gavriel caught her arm, his fingers cool against her skin.

She gasped in surprise, pulling away and taking a staggering step back. She hadn’t even heard him get out of the car.

“I didn’t mean to—” He stopped, and when he spoke again, he sounded oddly formal. “Tana, I have no skill in this—I am long out of practice at keeping my thoughts clearly ordered and the sort of persuasion that might convince you may be beyond my clumsy tongue.” He brought his hand up to touch her hair, the brush of his fingers so light that she wasn’t sure if he’d actually touched her at all. “You’re brave and you’re good, anyone can see that—you dared to save even an unhappy creature like myself, merely because I needed saving. You have parried everything this night has thrust at you. But surely it’s enough. Whatever is driving you—please, please let it drive you no further.”

“You think I want to die,” Tana said. “I don’t. That’s not what this is about.”

He shook his head. “I mean only—do not come to Coldtown. You may love Aidan and you may think you can save him—”

For a moment, Tana was confused, then she remembered Aidan’s arm slung over her shoulders, introducing her to Midnight and Winter. “Oh, no, it’s not like that. Aidan isn’t my
boyfriend
. I know he said he was, but—”

Gavriel’s red eyes narrowed, but she couldn’t read his expression.

She stumbled on. “He
used
to be and he just said that because—because that’s the way he is.” Tana peered into the backseat of her car, where Aidan and Midnight were talking. Winter sat between them, fitting a cigarette into a long, pretentious holder, his body hunched forward. Tana sighed. “He didn’t mean anything by it. I think he thinks about
girlfriend
like some kind of honorary title, like the way that every president is still ‘President So and So,’ no matter who’s currently in office.”

Gavriel started to say something else, but Tana held up her hand to stop him. She was babbling, but she wanted to see her babbling through. “Listen, back at the farmhouse, on my way out, one of the—”
Monsters
, her brain supplied. “One of them got me on the leg. It’s not deep or anything, but—but it was his teeth. He was trying to bite me. He
did
bite me—a little.” Saying it out loud made it real all over again. She could feel herself start to shake.

He looked at her with alarming intensity, his red eyes like hot coals. “Where?”

She turned a little, to show him the back of her leg. The dress was short enough to show the bottom edge of the scrape.