The Fugitives, A Dystopian Vampire Novel: Book Four: The Superiors Series (4 page)

“I worked in the sapien clinic for a while.”

“You did? When?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Some time ago.”

“How long ago?”

“Perhaps…twenty-five human years? Perhaps less.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Indeed.” Draven pressed gently on her side while they talked, glad to distract her from the pain with anything he could tell her.

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-three. You know that.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re not twenty-three. You were twenty-three when I met you, the first time I got bit.”

“You remember that?” He’d assumed she’d forgotten that day. After all the Superiors who had bitten her since then, he’d imagined she’d forgotten that one time.

“Of course I remember,” she said. “You were my first.”

“I see.”

Cali gave a little laugh. “You weren’t being very nice, but when you found out no one had bitten me before, you were nice about it.”

“Is that how you remember it?”

“Well, that’s what happened. I thought you were going to kill me, but you talked to me and petted me until I calmed down. I’d thought it would be really scary before that, and then I thought I was silly for being so scared. It wasn’t so bad.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t too unpleasant.”

“You never answered my question.”

“Oh?”

“I asked how old you were. You were twenty-three when we met, and I was only eleven. I’m eighteen now. So you’re at least…thirty.”

“That’s impressive adding you can do.”

“I can count.”

“You’re clever for a sapien, you know that?”

“I know,” she said. “But you still didn’t answer my question.”

Draven smiled and pulled her shift back down. “I think you’re alright. I may have fractured something, or bruised your ribs. I’m terribly sorry. I should have…I don’t know what I was thinking. I forget sometimes how different we are. That you break so easily. But it’s nothing serious, and you should heal fine on your own. You’ll probably be sore for a bit is all.”

Cali sat up. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“What’s to understand? It’s a number. How many years. It’s not that complicated.”

“But it is. Because you only see the number of years in terms of human life. We count time differently. By Superior time, I’m twenty-three, and I’ll always be twenty-three Third, until another evolution comes about, if one does. I’ll still be twenty-three Third then, but it will mean something different.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand. Why can’t you talk normal and make things simple?”

“Because things aren’t simple, Cali.”

“Okay, then explain it to me. Make me understand.”

“Why? That doesn’t help you to survive. It means nothing to you.”

“It does, because I want to know. What does twenty-three and third mean?”

“No, twenty-three Third. It means I’m of the Third Order, which means, in human years, I’m a hundred years younger than Seconds, like Byron. Your master.”

“He’s not my master anymore. You are.”

“I’m not your master, either. You’re your own master.”

“I am?”

“Yes. You are.”

“I’m my own master? I’m my own master.” She repeated it, as if trying it out. Then she smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Although so far it hasn’t worked out in your favor too often.”

“I know, and…I’m sorry. That I made you take the baby, and I didn’t keep my promise to be obedient all the time.”

“That’s alright. I didn’t want you to. Then I’d be your master. I don’t want to be anyone’s master but my own. That hasn’t worked out too well for me, either.” Draven smiled and touched Cali’s hair, which had darkened in the winter to a warm light brown with lighter streaks. The kind of hair Superiors paid hundreds of anyas to perfect every year while never managing to look quite as natural as Cali. Even though all saps kept their hair loose, touching her hair had become something different than it had been when he petted her. Something…erotic. Like a woman who left her hair down, it made her look always ready, although he knew she was not. Not for him, at any rate.

He withdrew his hand quickly and shook it as if he could rid himself of the tactile memory. His voice came low and even, controlled. “Do you want to go see the house?”

“Yes,” she said, struggling out of the mummy bag. “I’d hug you again, to thank you, but…”

Draven cursed himself. Why had he done that? He knew, he always knew, but it was so easy to forget for one moment. That’s what happened when he allowed a tendril of his desire to escape his iron hold. He should be glad he hadn’t severely injured her. He could kill her by forgetting even for a second she was only a sap.

Byron would never do such a thing, would never, ever, even for a fraction of a second, forget the difference between them, forget their places. She was always a fragile, brainless sap, and Byron was always her Master Superior. He would never hurt her that way, not even when he beat her. He calculated everything, stayed rational, doled out punishment. Draven was too impulsive and weak to own a sapien.

He didn’t speak while he stuffed the tent into the bag and jerked it closed. He yanked the packs onto his back and nodded to Cali, and they began the climb out of the rubble heap.

“Are you mad at me?” Cali asked when they had reached ground level. Her breath came faster after the climb, but she sounded sure.

“No.”

“Then why are you being… Mad. Is it because I asked about your age?”

“No.”

“Then what is it? I know you’re mad. I can tell.”

“How?”

“Because. You’re quiet, stomping around and shoving things into the backpacks, and being rough. I’m not stupid, you know. I can tell every time you’re mad at me. I didn’t mean to be rude. I was just curious.”

Draven stopped and faced Cali. He took a deep breath. “I’m not angry with you. I’m only angry at myself for hurting you. You didn’t offend me. And your inquisitiveness is perfectly lovely to me. Satisfied, my
jaani?
”

“Oh. Okay.” They began walking again. After a few minutes, she added, “It doesn’t hurt that much. I can hardly feel it now. And I shouldn’t have hugged you, even if you’re not my master. That’s just what I do when I’m excited. But it’s oddball to hug a Superior. You’re so…cold and…separate. And inhuman.”

“Yes. We are that,” he said. “But you’re not.”

After a long, silent walk, they reached the house without incident. Draven kept a lookout for the pack of dogs, but they did not appear again. When he’d helped Cali over the wall and they’d crossed the backyard, Draven knelt and retrieved the pebble. While Cali watched and nodded, he explained its importance to her, that without it, they would be locked out, and their possessions locked in.

Once inside, Cali marveled at everything, touching the electronic devices on the shelves, running her fingers over the screen in the wall until it buzzed to life and the computer generated woman asked Molly about her vacation again. Cali jumped back and covered her heart. Draven had marveled at the find already, and now he could enjoy Cali’s awe. It was even better than his own. He’d been in a few houses, one much nicer than this. But she hadn’t.

After Cali explored the house, Draven took the shower room and undressed. He turned the shower on hot and scalded his body, scrubbed every inch of his skin with soap and washed his hair three times. When he finished, he looked a bit better, but he still had the gaunt look in his eyes, a hungry emptiness. He should eat.

He found Cali in the tiny kitchen area, standing before an open cabinet and eating beets out of a jar of purple juice. When she saw him, she froze, then wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Eat as much as you like,” he said.

“Are we going to live here?” Cali asked. “Can I have a garden?”

Draven shook his head. “No. Someone lives here. I don’t know where she is, but I’m sure she’ll be back. But for now, it’s ours.”

“So we’ll have to leave?”

“Yes. I thought you knew that when I told you about it. We’ll have to be alert for someone returning. Then we’ll run.”

“Again?”

“It’s the best I can do right now.”

“Okay. I mean, thank you. It’s great. It’s wonderful. I’m happy.”

But Draven knew he couldn’t make her entirely happy. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that they’d probably never get to stay somewhere long enough for her to have a garden again, that they’d both run for the rest of their lives. As long as Draven lived, someone would hunt him—and eventually catch him. It wasn’t a matter of
if
, but one of inevitable
when
. That was the drawback to living forever. There was always time to die.

CHAPTER six

“Hey there, Byron,” Milton said, stepping into Byron’s office.

“What is it?”

“This sound familiar?” Milton asked, reading from his pod. “Man in early twenties, approximately 70 inches, slender build, wavy black hair and dark eyes, last seen wearing dirty blue jeans and tan canvas jacket. Had with him female homo-sapien, appears to be of similar age, blonde hair past its shoulders and light brown eyes, emaciated. Wearing Superior clothes, stained and ill-fitting. Both appear dirty and ill-kept. If you see someone fitting the description of either or both, or someone suspicious in the West Moines area, please contact your nearest Enforcement Office immediately. Both are considered armed and dangerous,” Milton finished before raising his eyes from the screen.

“Armed and dangerous, huh?” Byron said, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t think my sap is either of those things, but Draven might be. Did they draw up a picture or match his face in the database?”

“Not yet. Think it’s your sap?”

“Sounds like it. Guess they aren’t trying to disguise their looks, either. I wouldn’t have thought they’d make it to Moines already.”

Milton scrolled through the information, fingers flying over the screen to pull up another report. “Says here they…were picked up by an Enforcer at a dump. Someone turned them in, I guess, thought they looked suspicious. A dump truck driver saw they had…a tent set up,” Milton said as he read through the report. “The Enforcer caught them both and took them to the Office…Yeah, it says here they were being extradited back to Princeton for trial. That’s your guy.”

“Why didn’t we get a report in the office here?”

“That is strange,” Milton agreed, not sounding concerned in the least. “Says the Enforcer restrained the man only, and left the sap free. She stabbed him when he opened the trailer to take them out and they…Christ almighty. The man cut off the Enforcer’s hand. Sounds pretty violent.”

“He’s not what he seems at first meeting,” Byron said, thinking with disgust about his former friend fornicating with his livestock. He held back the urge to vomit. That warmth, that stench…

“I’ll look through the reports that came in. I haven’t seen anything about it. I’ll double check.”

“You do that,” Byron said. “Is he on the kill-on-sight list yet?”

“I don’t know,” Milton said. “I didn’t get a report on him. I don’t think so, though. Says here the Enforcer lived. He’s in the hospital recuperating from the stab wound. This guy ever kill anyone before?”

“Not that we’ve proven.”

Milton pocketed his pod but paused in the doorway. “Now I know you’re frustrated about this other case up here, and you’ve been wronged,” he said. “But you got a pregnant sap now and things will work out. We’ll get this guy soon enough, and you can have your other sap back if you want her. Or we can send her on to the blood bank. You can’t go thinking everyone is a criminal.”

“Don’t patronize me, Milton.”

Byron brushed past his commander and stalked out. Since he’d decided to wait for the snow to melt, only a little had cleared off. But he’d grown tired of waiting. He’d go get some snowshoes, make his way back over the mountain, find his proof that Draven was a murderer, and then he’d kill the man himself. And he’d laugh while he did it.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he wouldn’t even kill Draven. After feeling like a fool for too long, maybe it was Byron’s turn to have a little fun. He could always kill Draven later. First, he might toy with him, get inside his head, play a little cat and mouse of his own. It might be fun to be the cat for a change.

CHAPTER seven

“Hey, pretty boy, you want some of this?”

Draven awakened slowly and opened his eyes.

“Mmm you look good enough to eat,” Cali said from nearby. “Let me show you what I got. You want some?”

Draven pushed up on one elbow and looked past the foot of the bed to where Cali stood in front of the huge mirrors, talking to herself. She turned sideways and pursed her lips and tried again. “Don’t you look fiiiiiine tonight,” she said. “I got what you need right here, pretty boy.”

“Cali,” Draven said. “What in hell are you doing?”

Cali whirled to face him. “I didn’t know you were awake,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You said I should pick out some clothes and take what I wanted.”

“And
that’s
what you wanted?” Draven asked, gesturing to the shiny metallic underpants she wore, teal with the pattern of fish scales.

“I just wanted to see if I looked as good as those girls on the street,” she said. She had found the matching bra to the set, but it didn’t fit well, and her breasts swelled over the top.

“
Mon dieu
. Why don’t you just put a stake through me and get it over with,” Draven said, flopping back on the bed and pulling a pillow over his face.

“Because how would I live?”

Draven breathed into the pillow, then pushed it off his face. “I meant…you shouldn’t wear things like that. It’s not…appropriate.”

“I think it looks good,” Cali said. “I just wanted to look pretty.”

He held onto the pillow and sat up. “I meant no offense,” he said. “You do look pretty. Only…you look…sexy.”

“What is sex-y?”

“You don’t know what sexy is?”

She scowled. “I guess not.”

“It means…you look in a way that makes a person think of sex when he sees you.”

“You’re thinking about sex?”

Now he’d frightened her. She should be frightened. It was difficult enough being always in her company, with her loose hair always looking like she was ready for a tumble. He didn’t need this.

“Yes,” he said. “Come here.”

“I don’t want to,” she said, shrinking back.

“Then take it off.”

She paused and then slid her thumbs under the band of the underpants. He could hear her heartbeat increasing speed.

“Not here!”

“You said…”

“Never mind. I meant you shouldn’t wear it at all. Come here, I’m just going to eat.”

Cali hung back, her skin prickled with chill bumps but wary of climbing under the blanket with him

“You have my word,” he said. “Honor of Thirds.”

She nodded and came to the bed. When he lifted the blanket, she climbed in beside him. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, that he was only torturing himself, he couldn’t help himself. He pulled her against him, excited and scared and hungry at once. After turning her body away from him, he lifted her hair from her neck and leaned his head down into the hollow of her throat and let his teeth penetrate softly. He stroked the bare skin of her shoulder while he ate. After a few minutes, she relaxed and her heartbeat returned to normal.

So warm… How had he ever found her heat repulsive? Skin so soft, so smooth… He didn’t pull on the vein, just let her sap flow into him, and his hands moved over her shoulder, down her arm, back to her shoulder, down her back, stroking gently, lost in breathless anticipation—of what? He stopped himself, tried to focus on his shallow breathing, on her deeper breathing. He slid his hand along her side, over her now-protruding ribs, into the hollow between her ribs and her hip, onto the rise of her hip and back down the dip of her waist, around the soft curve of her belly. She was thinner than she should be, but something in her was softer than other women—the warmth that made her feel soft and delicate, and mortal.

He couldn’t seem to stop touching her, waiting always for her to stop him, though she didn’t. Letting his hand slide around her waist again, he tucked it under her and pulled her to him, briefly, but that proved too much for him. He released her and stroked her arm once more. Again, he couldn’t stop himself, and his hand slid over her shoulder, along her clavicle, down the center of her chest where only the swell of her breasts hinted at his inappropriateness. He ran his fingers along the bottom edge of the stretchy fabric, down her stomach, over her bellybutton, cupping the swell of scratchy padding under her underpants. When she didn’t move, he jerked away and sat up.

His head swam with a maddening, feverish desire. Why hadn’t she stopped him? He waited for her to turn, to say something, to scold him. For one brief moment, he allowed himself the tip of a thought, the thought that perhaps she wouldn’t stop him, that she’d turn and open herself to him.

But of course she wouldn’t. When she didn’t move, he leaned forward to gauge her reaction. Her eyelids lay closed, her face lax and peaceful. She was
sleeping
. He was raging with soul-ravaging desire for her, touching her until he couldn’t breathe for the agony, and his stroking had put her to sleep.

He covered his face and sat beside her curled form, trying to calm himself. He wondered that he hadn’t split the front of his trousers with the wildness of his arousal. What was he thinking? How could he, when he’d seen, only the night before, how breakable she was, how easily he could forget and hurt her? Now that she’d grown so thin, her thinness amplified his knowledge of her fragility. He loved her in all her forms, the healthy look she’d had when he had known her at the Confinement as well as the delicate beauty of her undernourished body. Mostly, though, he loved that she had these forms, that she could change.

If he let himself do what he wanted, he’d kill her. She would never change again.

He rose from the bed and paced the room. He didn’t love her.

Did he?

He couldn’t. Couldn’t let himself. It wasn’t her that he loved, only the availability. If he imagined he loved and longed for her, it was only loneliness, the accessibility of her, his isolation and over-exposure to her. He’d spent too much time with her, without seeing anyone else. Since he wanted a woman, and Cali looked like what he wanted, he thought he wanted her.

He had to do something, to get some relief, before he forgot himself and hurt her. Killed her. So he’d find what he needed and desired. Though he didn’t have papers, he knew ways to get around that, if he was clever about it.

In the shower room, he stood leaning over the sink, looking into his eyes in the mirror.

Cali was there, that was all. He hadn’t mutated into an incubus, so he couldn’t want a human that way. A bit of him wished he had, so he’d have an explanation, something to blame, without admitting it was perversion in him.

Releasing his breath, he returned to the bedroom. The woman who lived in the house had scores of shirts, sweaters, trousers. He found a pair of linen trousers that nearly fit him, and a cream-colored cashmere sweater he could squeeze into. With his thin frame, he could just fit into the woman’s looser clothing, although they fit more snugly than he would like, but the shoes posed a problem. He had two pairs of his own, and he chose the better pair, which were only slightly more presentable than the other. But he’d cleaned up, and his hair smelled of shampoo, and he looked good enough. He considered shaving but decided the shadow of stubble gave him a more masculine look. When he turned away from the mirror, he found Cali watching him.

“Where are you going?” she asked, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Out.”

“Out where?”

“To find something we need.”

“But there’s food here.”

“Something for me.”

“You can draw from me again, if you need to.”

“No. I’m going out to find…” He met her eyes squarely. “A woman.”

“What for?”

“Because I want one.”

“Well…okay,” Cali said, as if reluctantly granting permission. “You look pretty,” she added.

“Oh?” Draven frowned and glanced in the mirror.

“Yes. You look good.”

It may have been the nicest thing she’d ever said to him. The most like…but no. He’d never expected her to want him in return. It would always be one-sided. His thoughts would turn away from her soon enough.

“Thank you. Do not go outside while I’m gone.”

“Okay. I’m going back to sleep, anyway.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She lay back, and Draven stood frowning at her, wanting something but not sure what. Then he shook his head, turned, and left the bedroom. It was the first time he’d drawn from her and not found satisfaction.