The Fugitives, A Dystopian Vampire Novel: Book Four: The Superiors Series (22 page)

“Not forever,” he said. “But a few days, perhaps.”

“Thank you,” Cali said, throwing herself into his arms.

He caught her up, laughing, and checked himself at the last moment, reminded of the moment he’d forgotten and squeezed her too hard. “I should make you happy more often if this is the thanks I get,” he said, setting her on her feet.

“You should,” she agreed.

“I’ve got to do one more thing outside,” he said. “Do you need to…relieve yourself?”

Cali smiled. “No, I did my business while you were down here before. I’ll be here.” She made her way down the set of shelves, running her fingers along the books as she went.

Draven gathered the sheet with the bones and climbed the ladder, all the time waiting for Cali’s questions. For once, she seemed too preoccupied for curiosity. He flung the door open with some effort, sure he’d break the ladder with the force of straining against the door, but it held. After disposing of the bones, he sprinkled the door with some of the camouflaging scents Sally had given him—lemon juice, clove powder, and a clove of garlic—before descending the ladder again.

CHAPTER forty

“Can I drink this?” Cali asked, holding up a glass bottle, half filled with clear liquid. Draven plucked it from her hand to examine the label, most of which had disintegrated.

After inspection, he handed the bottle back. “I can’t imagine why not.”

She twisted off the cap, inhaled the fumes, and made a sour face. “It doesn’t smell very good.”

“Don’t drink it, then. We have water.”

Cali sniffed at the mouth of the bottle, then turned it up and took a sip “Oh, it burns, it burns,” she said. “What is this?”

Draven accepted the bottle and took a sip. “It’s alcohol.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s…like medicine. It numbs pain. If you drink a lot, it makes you drunk.”

“Ohhhh,” she said, comprehension dawning in her eyes. “Like corn whiskey.”

“Exactly like that.”

“Well, I’ve had that before. It’s not nearly so sharp, though. I used to drink it when…you know. When I had my woman’s days and my stomach hurt.”

“I didn’t know humans still drank alcohol. I’ve never tasted it on one.”

Cali laughed. “I didn’t think Superiors did. Give me that back. I think it’s better than corn whiskey.”

“Have you been drunk before?”

“Sure, everyone has. I mean, it’s one of the things we can make for ourselves. I’ve even heard of people making corn whiskey out of potatoes or watermelons—all kinds of things.”

“Wouldn’t that be potato whiskey? But I think it’s called something else. Vodka, perhaps.”

“Vutka?”
Cali took a swig from the bottle. “We should keep this. Can we take it with us?”

“Take anything you like.”

“Can we take all the books?”

“Choose one, and I’ll read to you.”

“Is this supposed to be one of you?” she asked, holding up a book. The front cover featured an illustration of a man wearing a black cape, his fingers curled like claws, his drawing teeth so long there was no possible way he could close his mouth.

Draven laughed. “It might be. Is that what you want me to read?”

“No, that’s boring,” she said, sliding it back onto the shelf. “Are these books by humans or Superiors?”

“Humans. Look, here is one called
The Secret Garden
. You like gardening. Shall I read it to you?”

“Yes, perfect. Now come lay with me,” she said, skipping to the bed and flopping down. The bed frame squeaked terribly. Mice had chewed holes in the blanket and stuffed the threads into a hollow in a pillow, along with paper and plastic to pad their nest. Draven tossed the mouse nest in a corner, flipped the pillow, and slid it under the good one. Cali scooted close, rested her head on his arm, and sipped from her alcohol bottle while he read. Her body lay warm against his, soft and luscious, and he grew as drunk on her scent as she was on alcohol.

“Stop drinking that,” he said, reaching for it. “I’ll get drunk when I draw from you.”

“No,” she said, laughing and holding it away from him. “I found it, so it’s mine.”

“You’ll make yourself sick.”

“I will not. Now keep reading.”

After listening to him read for a few more minutes, Cali rolled onto her side and pressed the bottle against his lips. He relented and took a swallow, but he quickly pulled away with a grimace.

“What, can’t you drink corn whiskey?” Cali teased before downing another mouthful.

“I haven’t ever. People act foolish after alcohol.”

“What if I want you to act foolish?”

“Why would you want that?”

“Because I’ve never seen you act stupid. You see me act stupid all the time.”

“Not all the time.”

She pinched his arm. “Don’t be mean. You promised you’d be nice to me.”

“I’m reading to you, yes?”

“I’m tired of that,” she said, standing to stretch. Draven captured the liquor bottle and tried not to watch Cali stretch her body to its last millimeter. She collapsed out of the stretch, stumbled, giggled as she caught herself, and bent to open the pack. After a bit of digging, and a bit more stumbling, she pulled the black party frock from the bottom of the bag. “I still have this? Why didn’t I know, all this time? This is the funniest shift I’ve ever seen. I mean, look at it. There’s no place to put your arms.”

“I see that,” Draven said, sitting upright on the bed and covering his lap with the open book. He turned away as Cali began to slip her trousers down.

“You can look,” she said. “I don’t mind anymore.”

“I’d better not.”

“You’re missing some very fantastic legs…”

Surprised by the teasing in her voice, he forgot himself and turned towards her. He looked away again quickly. When she’d succeeded in pulling on the sleeveless frock, she came to him where he sat on the edge of the bed, and drew his hands up to her waist. The dress was satin and tight to the waist, where it flared out in ruffled layers. His breath caught, and he had to force himself to raise his eyes to hers.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing. I’m out of my mind. What is it you want?”

“Give me my whiskey back.”

He laughed, both relieved and crushed that nothing had come of the moment before. He took a sip from the bottle. “This is terrible. How can you like it?”

“Because I’m drunk, that’s how. Aren’t you?”

“Perhaps a bit.”

Cali took the bottle and held it out of his reach. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

“Ravishing.” He reached for her or the bottle, he wasn’t sure which.

She darted between the shelves, turned, and stood smiling an invitation at him.

“Do you want me to chase you?”

“Of course I do, silly.”

He was on her before she could turn to flee. He let her run, but he was waiting for her at the end of the aisle when she arrived there, too. She let out a shriek and pushed at his chest. “That’s not fair,” she said. “You’re too fast. I can never win.”

“That’s right,” he said, drawing the bottle from her hand. “You never can.”

She ducked under his arm and raced down the next aisle. After a few minutes of finding him before her at every turn, she fell into him, laughing and out of breath. “You’re no fun. Can’t you just let me win once?”

“Yes. But not this time.” He took her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. When he lay her down, she closed her eyes and held to his neck.

“Why won’t you play with me?” she asked. “You don’t have to be old and mean and boring all the time.”

“Yes, I’m quite dull.”

“I don’t believe you. Now kiss me.”

“No.”

“Why not? Is it because you think I’m rotty with drink?”

“You’re not thinking clearly.”

“I don’t care. Kiss me. I won’t let go until you kiss me.”

He slipped from her hands as easily as if they weren’t there at all, but she reached for him, curled her fingers over the waistband of his trousers, and tugged. “Please?” she said. “You wanted me before. Can’t you do it for me? I want you to.”

“Do you imagine you can simply decide you want something, and you’ll get it?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you can’t.”

“I can keep trying,” she said. “I ran away three times, and it didn’t stop me from running away again with you.”

“You’re headstrong.”

“But I want you, and you want me. Why can’t we have each other?”

“You don’t care that I might kill you?”

“You wouldn’t. You love me too much.”

He let her pull him against the edge of the bed, but he couldn’t lie with her.

“What did I do wrong?” she asked. “Why won’t you have me? Don’t you want to, even a little bit, just to know what it’s like? I love you. Why don’t you love me anymore?”

He snatched her hand from his trousers and fell upon her, trapping her beneath him, pulling her hands above her head. “You have to stop this nonsense, you sexy little fool. Of course I want you. I’m mad with wanting you. Is that what you want, my admission? Of course I love you. But it means more. That I want you, I want to have you, and kiss you, and eat you, and love you madly, and make you love me. But I can’t risk losing you forever just to lie with you a few times.”

“Just a few times?”

“Perhaps only once, perhaps ten times. But I’d hurt you, even without wanting to. I told you I’d get you…a mate.”

She wrapped her legs around his hips and linked her feet together. “I don’t want a mate. I want you.”

“If you’re so desperate, I’ll pleasure you myself. But I won’t have you.”

He jerked up her frock, but she began fighting before he’d even gotten it around her waist. He rolled off her. “Good. You’ve got more sense than I imagined.”

“I don’t have any sense at all,” she said petulantly. “That’s not what I want. I want you. But you don’t have to be mean about it, like you want to hurt me. You could just say you didn’t want me.”

Draven sighed, turned his back, and slipped out of his clothes and into the bed, where he turned his face to the wall. After a bit, Cali switched off her flashlight and climbed into bed behind him. The bed squealed as she moved about to make herself comfortable.

When he heard her crying, he worked his way towards her, cautious of her drunken unpredictability. The frock felt slippery beneath his hand as he found her hip and patted it. “Do not cry, my
jaani
,” he whispered. “Please don’t.”

“I don’t understand,” she said through her tears. “You’re so nice sometimes, and sometimes you’re just mean.”

“I’m sorry I’ve hurt your feelings.”

“Why don’t you believe me? You won’t even try. Maybe you would like it. I’m all you have, too.”

“I know, little pet. Come.” She rolled into his arms and pressed her face to his chest. Gradually she calmed, but her warm tears slid from her cheek onto his arm long after her sobbing ceased.

“You’re going to hate me now, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Of course I won’t.”

“I’m sorry I acted like that,” she said. “But I’ll still want what I want. I know what I’m saying.”

“Of course you do, my
jaani
.”

“Can we at least try? Just once. We don’t have to do it again if we don’t like it.”

“Perhaps, just once,” he agreed, stroking her tangled hair. He kissed her eyelids, delicate and wet with tears. When her fumbling fingers found him ready under the blankets, he drew a sharp breath. He could see it all happening so smoothly. He would kiss her mouth and draw it open, touch her and draw her legs open and move inside her.

Just once, to rid himself of the intensity of his perversion, that awful, blinding desire. Then he could control it.

He pulled her hand away.

“Not now,” he whispered. “Not yet.”

“It feels so good.” Her warm breath swept across his face, her heartbeat coming slow and hard, surrounding them with its pulsing rhythm.

“Not like this.”

“When?”

“Soon,” he said, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. If she had insisted for another moment, he might have done it. But she’d relented.

The alcohol made him feel a bit dizzy now, fuzzy around the edges, warm inside and sick. When he pulled Cali against him, she pressed herself into his arms and aimed a kiss that, in the dark, landed on his chin.

“I love you,” she said. “I mean it.”

“Good day, my pet.”

“Goodnight.”

CHAPTER forty-one

Cali woke needing to relieve herself, but she lay in bed for a while before moving. Her head felt thick and her body tired. She thought over that morning, all they’d said and done. When she turned and patted the bed beside her, she found it empty. Seeing her act foolish and crazy with drink had probably disgusted or offended Draven.

She couldn’t find the flashlight, so she stumbled towards the ladder, bumping into a shelf and knocking a tin can to the floor. The clattering noise still echoed in the chamber when the door in the ceiling groaned and lifted. Cali followed the light and climbed the ladder to find Draven standing outside. She staggered away and did her business behind a pile of rubble. When she stood, her stomach lurched, and she bent and vomited in the pile of broken cement pieces.

She trudged back towards the shelter, stopping next to Draven, who stood with hands in pockets, staring off across the grey concrete and twisted trees of their surroundings. “Rough evening?” he asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

“Why?”

“I heard you being sick.”

“Oh.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Well, I’m sorry.”

He looked awfully surprised by her apology. “For what?”

“You know why,” she said. “For the way I acted last night.”

“I warned you it would make you foolish.”

She hugged herself tighter, biting her lip to hold back her hurt. She’d wanted him to say she hadn’t acted stupid. But of course she had. She took a deep breath. “Well, you were right. And I’m sorry about it.”

“I said some foolish things as well. Let us forget them all, shall we?”

“Yes.” She relaxed her grip on herself, then smiled and added, “We shall.”

They watched the light fade from the purple sky. Frogs and birds sang in the spring evening, and everything felt peaceful and hopeful.

“I would like to eat,” Draven said at last, turning to her. “Then I will hunt.” He took her face in his hands and released a little laughing breath with no sound, then shook his head, turned her face and leaned down to find her throat with his mouth. She held onto him while his hands caressed her back, bare shoulders, and shoulder blades, her neck and arms and chest. It made her feel lightheaded again, like when she’d been drunk. Finally, he pulled out and began licking her with his cold tongue, which made her shiver in the cool evening.

She’d said things that morning, drunken things, but she’d meant them. He’d said they could forget, but she didn’t know if she could. He probably could. He could do anything.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away. “You’re shivering. I can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

“Oh,” Cali said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Good. I thought…after last night, you might not…like me as much.”

“Even more,” he said, sliding his fingers into her hair. His eyes bore into hers with that same burning intensity they’d gotten when he named the feeling between them. When he said that word,
desire
, in his silkily melting voice, a hot tremor ran through her and lodged itself between her thighs. Now he had that same look, so hungry, even though he’d just eaten.

She turned her face away, her heart hammering suddenly. She wanted him to want her, but maybe not quite so much.

He stepped back and dropped his hands. “Don’t close the door unless you hear someone coming,” he said. “I don’t want you trapped down there if something happens to me.”

“But what if it’s you?” she asked. “I don’t want to lock you out.”

“I’ll call to you when I come.”

This became their routine for the next week. He’d hunt while she waited in the shelter, and when he called, she’d rush up the ladder, excited to see what he’d brought her—curling green sprouts, smooth red stalks that were sweet but fibrous, sour leaves and pods of sorrel, delicate greenbrier tendrils, white and purple violets, wild mint that left her mouth tingling. Sometimes he brought mushrooms—round white ones, flat brown ones, and tall ones with holes in their formation that reminded her of sections of corncob, stripped of kernels. If he caught a small animal, he’d light a fire and cook it, and they’d sit talking and absorbing the flames’ warmth.

When they’d both eaten, they’d settle into the bunker, and he’d read to her, sometimes from the book, and other times, from labels on the remaining packages on the shelves. He struggled with the unfamiliar words humans had used, and Cali laughed at their funny sounds and enjoyed that almost as much as the book. While he read, she’d lie on his arm, and he’d play in her hair. While she slept, he spent most of his time rooting through the shelter, looking for things they could take with them when they left.

Cali wanted to stay forever. She loved the cozy little hole in the ground, and she loved Draven in it, how playful he’d get sometimes, tickling her while he read until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She didn’t like how cold and damp it was inside, but if she sat by the fire outside, and stayed under the blankets inside, she could keep herself warm enough. One night, she discovered that Draven wasn’t always cold, but absorbed the temperature around him. He’d been near the fire, and when he slid into bed, his skin was hot against hers. He spread the mummy bag on top of the chewed blanket to keep their heat through the night. No light or water came into the shelter, even when it rained that night and they lay nestled tightly in the bed, listening to the thunder rumble and the rain roar, far away and muffled by the heavy roof and the thinner door.

Cali tightened her arms around Draven and thought of their first day in the shelter, of his kisses on her eyelids, soft and loving, and of the other time he’d kissed her. Not the first time, which had been as clumsy and unwelcome as all her kisses before, but when he’d kissed her so gentle she wasn’t sure he’d kissed her or only breathed on her. She wanted to kiss him again, to know if he kissed like that always.

On the seventh evening, Draven said that they should move on. Together they packed the backpack and two cloth bags he’d found and filled with supplies—rope, socks, sheets, a knife, bullets, a spoon, a pan with a lid, and a few books. But once their bags were packed, Cali convinced him to stay with much begging and poor reasoning.

When she begged, and said the right things to him, she could get him to do almost anything. First she’d ask, then pout, make promises, tell him she loved him, and pout a little more. If she asked the right way, he’d probably climb into the hole and let her lock him down there. If he said no to something, she tried to figure out where she’d made mistakes and why he’d refused her. But that night, he finally relented and agreed to stay. They spent the seventh night as they had all the others, reading and eating and talking together. When morning came, they took sleep together, Draven curled around Cali in her triumph.

“But we’re leaving in the evening,” he said, giving her a little squeeze and burying his face in her hair.

“Of course we are,” she said, arching her back and pushing into his lap. The rigid thing down there pushed back for a second, but then he drew away. She liked to play this teasing game with him. She wanted more, but she was scared, too, so she didn’t press him like she had when she’d drunk the whiskey. Now she only went as far as he’d let her, and when he pulled away, she stopped. But if he didn’t pull away one night, she’d be ready.