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Authors: Wynne Channing

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BOOK: What Kills Me
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“That was what I was told.”

“Well, you were misinformed. It’s just
a vampire urban legend to scare newbies.”

Bells attached to the front doors
announced our arrival, but the attendant didn’t look up. The store
was so bright that it made everything look surreal; the colors were
extra colorful, the whites were fluorescent white. I could smell
the chocolate and the pastries through their wrappings. While Lucas
talked to the man, I wandered the aisles, touching everything. The
packaging snapped like firecrackers under my fingers. When I was
little, my father used to let me choose one treat at the gas
station for the ride home. Though I wanted a Coke slushie, I always
chose a bag of barbecue chips. They were my father’s favorite and
this way we could share.

I lingered in front of the shelf of
chips and scanned the shiny, bulgy bags: pizza and prawn and
seaweed-flavored chips. There were potato twists whose brand name
in English read “Lonely God.”

“That’s an interesting
name,” I muttered to myself.
Lonely
gods.
I thought of the Ancients,
imprisoned forever in gold.

I glanced at the counter, and Lucas
and the attendant were looking my way. The attendant was examining
me and talking in animated tones. When I met his gaze, he averted
his eyes and said something to Lucas. He scratched the back of his
skull, the vein in his temple throbbing. Lucas replied with some
sarcastic quip and the man threw his head back in
laughter.

Back in the car, Lucas spread out a
map.

“So what were you guys talking
about?”

“Hmm?”

“You guys were talking about me. What
were you saying?”

He smiled. “He asked if you were a
movie star.”

I coughed. “He what?”

“He said that he thought you were
beautiful.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said, ‘Yes, but she can be a
pain.’”

Ignoring the last part of his comment,
I sat back and blushed. Only two men had ever called me beautiful.
One was my father. The other had killed me.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Lucas
said.

“Oh, it’s too late,” I
said.

We exchanged a smile and I laughed. It
felt good to laugh. I sounded like me.

 

 

Chapter
29

 

I sat on the stone edging around the
pool, my pant legs rolled up over my knees and my feet submerged in
the hot water. The stench of rotten eggs from the sulfurous hot
springs was smothering. A ghostly mist floated over the surface of
the water, obscuring the moon’s reflection.

The resort was nestled in among
mountains that rose around us like the furry backs of bison. Sounds
of civilization were muffled by chirring bugs and bubbling water.
Everyone at the inn was fast asleep, including the concierge who
was supposed to be manning the front desk.

Without turning around I listened for
Lucas, but he was silent. I thought he had gone back to our room,
but I heard the wind rustle his shirt. He was several feet behind
me, perhaps on one of the patio chairs.

“When was the last time you killed
someone?” I asked.

“Do you mean someone
human?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly he was kneeling beside me.
The pool lights made his eyes appear almost yellow.

“We killed a lot in our early years.
That was how we fed. But in the last century the Monarchy took over
the supply of blood. They made it easier to access, and it was less
necessary to hunt.”

“Where do they get the blood
from?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know where your food comes
from?”

“No,” he said. “The Monarchy doesn’t
have an obligation to tell us.”

“Good point. They probably don’t have
a customer service department where you can send your concerns.
So—no one knows?”

“Samira has her theories, but then
again she can be a bit of a conspiracy theorist.”

“The Monarchy could have human farms
where they’re draining the livestock,” I said with a
shudder.

“It’s possible. All of the blood
tastes the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kinman occasionally feeds on humans
and he says the taste of blood varies depending on the person. The
Japanese, for example, eat a lot of fish so their blood contains
more mercury. Humans have altered their environments and their
diets so much in recent times that their blood is full of
chemicals.”

“So some people taste like
feet?”

He smiled. “Possibly.”

I tapped my forehead to clear the
image of Kinman pouncing on people like a crazed gorilla. I
preferred to think of his friendly grin.

“I can’t believe Kinman would do
that,” I said. “But I have to remember that my moral compass
doesn’t apply anymore.”

“I don’t know that he kills people. He
might just frequent dens.”

“What are dens?”

“They’re like underground clubs for
vampires. Humans who want to be fed on visit them.”

“Really? I thought no one knew about
vampires.”

“There are small groups of humans who
worship vampires and who serve vampires in hopes of becoming
one.”

“Vampire groupies,” I said with a
sniff. “Must be nice to have food that begs to be
eaten.”

“No one forces them to be
there.”

“So do you go to these
clubs?”

“I have in the past but they’re not
really my scene.”

I was relieved and realized that I had
felt jealous. Of strangers throwing themselves at him.

“They’re mostly run by members of the
rebellion,” he said.

“Did you ever consider joining them?
To be with Samira?”

“I did. For a while I wanted to fight
the Monarchy. To punish them for what they did to my family. But I
needed to stay with my father.”

“He wouldn’t have joined?”

“No. He would never have put himself
in direct battle against my brother. And maybe he thought that by
making weapons for the Aramatta, he was somehow helping
him.”

“Taren,” I said softly. “That was his
name?”

Lucas stared into the steam swirling
from the water and nodded. “He took great pleasure in training with
the Aramatta and guarding the elders at court. I wasn’t even
surprised when he chose to stay at the castle. But I was happy to
leave. I hated being there, at the beck and call of the Monarchy. I
hated the rules, the ceremony, the ostentation. But the first years
away were hard. Without my siblings and Nuwa.”

“Are you excited to see
her?”

He furrowed his brow and cocked his
head as if confused. “I suppose I am,” he said, sounding surprised.
“It’s been a long time.”

“What are you going to
say?”

“I haven’t a clue. I’ll know when I
say it.”

We sat this way for a while without
speaking. I leaned over, lowering my head until it rested on his
shoulder. I felt his cheek against the top of my head and I closed
my eyes.

When we get to Nuwa’s, we
can stop running.

“Zee?”

“Yeah?”

“What does Axelia mean?”

“It means ‘protector of mankind.’
Maybe my parents thought I’d grow up to be Superwoman.”

“You do have superpowers.”

“I don’t think this is what they had
in mind.”

A few birds twittered in the distance.
He shifted so I sat up. “We should go inside. The sun will be up
soon.”

“You go first. I’m going to watch the
sun come up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ll be there
shortly.”

I patted his back and he pitched
forward, his eyes wide, his hand reaching back for the edge of the
pool. I gasped and tried to grab his arm but it was too late. He
slipped into the pool. By the time he was halfway in, he had given
up, sinking under the surface with a small splash. I burst out
laughing.

“Oh my God,” I said, pressing my hand
over my mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

Lucas floated to the top. He was not
smiling. “You did that on purpose.”

“I swear I didn’t. Are you okay?” I
pressed my lips together to hide my smile.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, swimming over
to me.

“I forgot that I have superpowers. I’m
sorry. Here,” I said. I stood and reached my hand out to
him.

“It’s all right,” he said.

“No, let me help you.”

He gripped the edge with one hand and
reached out with the other. We clasped hands. Then he yanked me
toward him.

“No!” I screamed, flying off my feet.
I instinctively went to plug my nose. I hit the hot water, slapping
it with my floundering limbs. It felt like I was swimming in bath
water.

“Aaaah,” I cried, coming to the
surface. “It’s boiling in here.”

Lucas’s laugh was low and
throaty. It made me laugh as well. He orbited me, treading water as
if he was walking. I dipped my head back to get the hair out of my
face. “Put a couple of humans in here and you could have soup,” I
said.
That was a sick joke.

“The humans like hot tubs,” he
said.

“I wasn’t that kind of
girl.”

“What kind of girl?”

“The hot tub party girl,” I said. “I
was the play Scrabble with my parents girl.”

“Is that what you did for
fun?”

“Well, I hung out with my best friend,
Ryka. And I loved taking photos. On the weekends, I’d spend hours
hiking with my camera. My idea of excitement was getting the
perfect shot of a ladybug on a leaf. Now I’m getting into car
chases and sword fights. And I’m in a hot tub with a
boy.”

“You’re in a hot tub with a vampire,”
he said. He hit the surface with the heel of his hand, splashing me
in the face.

“You didn’t just do that,” I said. He
dived and I chased him eight feet under, until the bottom was
against my belly. He swam with his hands at his sides, twisting and
curling his body to avoid me. When we surfaced, I grabbed his
shoulders and pushed his head under. We sank down together and
bobbed up, laughing. I slung my arm around his shoulders and the
side of my body was pressed against his. Beneath his soft skin his
muscles were hard, like stone. Our laughter trailed away. I felt
his hand on my waist. His legs brushed mine as we treaded water. I
searched his face. His expression was undecipherable. He just
looked into my eyes, clenched his jaw, and swallowed. I looked at
his lips. They gleamed from the water, the steam. I thought he
might kiss me. I wanted him to.

He put his other hand on my
waist and gently moved me away. My arm slid off of his cool
shoulder into the hot water. I sank, as did my heart; I let my face
disappear under, as if to wash away my feelings. I felt confused by
the urge to kiss him and embarrassed that he didn’t return the
feeling.
I blame the hot tub. It makes
people wild.

He swam to the shallow end and leaped
out of the water, landing poolside. His black clothing clung to his
sinewy body and appeared to be dripping off like oil. I tried not
to stare.

“Hey, hot tub party girl. Don’t stay
out too long,” he said. “We’re heading out at nightfall. Into the
mountains to find Nuwa.”

I glanced at the rocky peaks in the
distance—a red glow radiated along their edges—and when I looked
back, he was gone.

 

***

 

“How much further?” I said, clinging
to the side of a rock face.

“Stop asking that,” Lucas
said.

He was several feet above me and
pebbles were tumbling down the escarpment, hitting me in the
forehead.

“Grab that hold there and swing up to
this one,” he said. “Hurry, but be careful!”

When he said “into the
mountains,” he wasn’t kidding.

The climbing part wasn’t difficult but
the height made me queasy. “Remember, don’t look down,” he said, as
if reading my mind.

We had left the resort at sunset and
had spent hours hiking through the mountains. We loped across
valleys, plowing through grass that was taller than us. We leaped
up boulders as if they were stairs and launched ourselves from
cliffs, snagging faraway ledges. I imagined my fingers walking
across a map, and that was how fast we must have been traveling and
how much land we were covering.

Lucas helped me onto a landing place.
I shifted the rope across my chest that fastened my sword to my
back. Having recovered my senses following the hot tub incident, I
felt normal around him again. And having him scold me for the
entire evening had helped.

“Hey, what if she doesn’t like me?” I
asked.

“What?”

“What if Nuwa doesn’t like
me?”

“Why are you talking
nonsense?”

BOOK: What Kills Me
10.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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