Authors: Jessica Sorensen
“I’m not afraid,” I say, looking for an escape route. “And I’m not stupid enough to believe you.” The hallway is close, but how can I leave Aiden behind?
“He’s okay,” Sylas says, stepping after me. “He’s just taking a nap.”
“I know he’s okay.” Because I can hear his heart. “But I don’t know if he’s going to remain okay.”
Sylas presses his hand to his heart, his teeth shining as he grins. “You have my word. No one will harm you or him.”
“I’m not believing anything you say, until I have an idea of what this all is.”
Sylas stops, exchanging a glance with the red-headed girl again. The other three Day Takers spread across the front section of the building, so there’s a wall of bodies and Aiden’s lying unconscious on the floor in front of them. They’re trapping me, but for what purpose I’m not sure.
It’s enough for me to run, though.
I slip down the hall, hearing the commotion rising behind me like a wave. Sylas is calling orders out to them, not in English, but in the language of the Highers. There’s a glass door at the end of the hall and the obvious thing would be to run out. But I’m not a fan of the obvious or with leaving Aiden behind.
I dive into a nearby room and shut the door behind me. It’s black as death and I can hear the echo of their footsteps trampling down the hall; one, two, three sets of footsteps and then nothing. Two more are out there somewhere. It feels like I’m being chased by vampires, with no pulse to guide me. And I’m going in more blindly with the Day Takers. Do they bite? Feed? What’s their thing? Aiden said they were killers, but in what sense?
Another set of footsteps pad down the hall. These are lazy and careless and they pause in front of the door. I press my lips together, scooting to the side of the door. It clicks open, bringing a shudder with it. I poise my knife out in front of me as someone steps in. I close my eyes, take a breath, and lunge out, slamming my body into theirs. It’s like hitting a rock wall, and we both tumble out the door and to the floor. There’s a rustle and then I’m on top of him. Sylas. He seems to think this is funny and lets me straddle him and presses my knife to his throat, refusing to fight back.
“Done?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow.
I don’t know what to do with this, so I crack my knuckles into his cheek.
“Ow,” he chuckles, clutching his jaw. “What’d you do that for?”
I hold my knife to his throat. “I don’t know.”
He laughs again and I get the feeling that this is all one big joke to him and that really he could take things over whenever he wanted. “Go head.” He takes my hand, pushing it against his neck.
I look into his black eyes, wondering what it would be like if I did; if I just took his life. That’s when I realize I can’t—I don’t have it in me. I think that’s when I realize that the odds of me turning out to be a Higher are low because I don’t have killer instincts, at least without good cause.
I start to pull back and that’s when he takes over. Flipping us over, so I’m the one trapped below him. Glass cuts into the back of my head as I try to slide out from under him. He uses force to knock my knife out of my hand and pin my arms above my head.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says. “I just need you calm.”
Then he sinks his teeth into my neck.
“What do you think it’s like to live in the outside world?” I’m twelve, maybe thirteen years old, sitting on the concrete floor.
The guy I speak to is a few years older, with dark hair, and eyes as black as ash. Sylas.
“Better than in here,’ he says, pointing at the red door. “Anything would be better than living in here.”
A scream reverberates from the hall and I shudder. “You don’t think that’s Aiden, do you?” I ask.
Sylas looks at me, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Do you worry about me like that? When I’m back there?”
“Do you want me to worry about you?” I try to sound confident, but he makes me nervous.
He smiles, leaning in. “Never. I only want you to worry about yourself.” The he brushes his lips against mine.
“You’re next,” Aiden says and we pull away. His arms are covered in cuts, bruises covering his face.
I jump to my feet, leaving Sylas on the floor. “You’re not healing.” I touch his bruises.
He covers my hand with his. “He didn’t want me to heal today.”
I frown. “I’m sorry you’re hurt.”
“It’s okay.” He brushes my hair back. “I’m feeling better now.”
Sylas jumps to his feet and stomps down the hall.
“You shouldn’t let him confuse you like that.” Aiden sits on the ground and crosses his legs. “He loves to get inside your head.”
I sit down beside him and rest my head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. He won’t hurt me.”
Aiden shakes his head and then rests it on top of mine. “He’ll hurt anything if it means he gets something out of it.”
“You shouldn’t be so mean to him,” I say. “He’s you brother.”
“Only by blood,” he whispers. “And maybe one day that will change.”
My face rests in warm, sticky liquid that coats my hair. Blood, leaking from my neck. My eyelids flutter open and I see shoes, black with clunky soles and broken shoelaces.
“You sure she’s not dead?” A voice says. “You dropped her pretty hard when you brought her in here.”
“She’s not dead,” another answers. “Look, she’s still breathing. And if you listen really really hard, you can detect her tiny little heart beat.”
“So she’s turning human,” he says. “That means Aiden wasn’t lying—she chose not to take the medicine.”
“Well, it’s not her choice now,” the other replies. “You know Sylas will make her do it—she has to be one of us, or this won’t work.”
I analyze my options. There are two of them and one of me. And I’m bleeding. I never bleed, which means the medicine has finally left my system, leaving me vulnerable. My heart’s also starting to come to life again and is going to take my strength away. Plus, if these guys have any of the strength Sylas has, they’ll be able to kill me with a simple snap of their fingers.
And what if they bite like him? The bite—that’s where the blood’s coming from. God, what does that mean? That I’m infected with something? Strong or not, infected or not, I’m not one to give up. I take a deep breath and swiftly roll on my back, kicking one of them right behind the kneecap and the other one right between the legs. One collapses to the concrete ground, but the other only stumbles. I leap to my feet, but the room sways and I teeter to the side, smacking my head on a steel beam.
One struggles to his feet, while the other charges. Both their eyes are black, but burn a fire to kill. I try to run, one foot in front of the other. But I’m weak and I hate the feeling of no control. A hand grabs me by the shoulder, his strength cutting into my skin.
I kick at him, but he only laughs. “Let me guess. You used to be really, really strong.” His teeth are sharp, his lips a deep red. His sandy hair chops across his head. He’s not afraid of me, not by a long shot. But the other one, the one standing behind me, fears I’ll kick him between the legs again.
I knock my head back, trying to hit him in the face.
“God damn it.” He grabs my hair and tugs at the roots. “Knock that crap off.”
I try not to wince or scream in pain, but it’s hard. It hurts and I don’t know how to deal with pain. It feels like fire, hot and unnatural and it won’t go away.
“Easy, boys,” Sylas says, emerging from the shadows of the beams. He moves like he’s commander of an army, like he knows he holds all the control in his hand. “Let her go.”
They obey, but the blonde one shoves me forward. I blink, grabbing my head, my stomach churning as the world spins a wild color of chaos.
“Are you stupid?” Sylas asks, his words harsh, but his voice eerily calm. “I said not to hurt her.”
“I’m sorry,” Raymond apologizes, terror rushing through him. “But she kicked me.”
“She can do whatever she wants,” Sylas answers, black eyes on me, taking me in like I’m something delicious he wants to sink his teeth into.
“I’m sorry,” Raymond apologizes with a bow of his head. “It won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t,” Sylas says with an underlining threat in his tone.
Raymond nods and then him and the other head for the door, locking it behind them.
“Are you okay?” He asks me, a hint of concern lacing his voice. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
I run my hand down the side of my neck, wiping the blood away. “Not as bad as your bite did.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not contagious.” He walks the cement floor. “Do you know who I am?”
“You’re Aiden’s brother, Sylas,” I answer, leaning back against a beam, clutching my head.
“Yeah, but do you know who I am,” he says. “Can you remember me at all?”
I decide whether to lie, but it seems unnecessary. “You and I were behind the red door together at one time or another.”
“That’s all you remember?” His mouth curves to a pout. “I’m heartbroken.”
“Maybe that’s all I remember,” I say. “But maybe not. Perhaps I might be more willing to tell stuff if you were to tell me a few things.”
He crosses his arms, facing me, and taps his finger on his lips. “You’re exactly how I remember you.” He shakes his head, smiling to himself. “All right, what do you want to know first? What we are? Why we’re here? Go ahead and try to stump me with your questions”
I hold his gaze steadily. “Where’s Aiden?”
His face falls into irritation. “Aiden’s fine.”
“That’s not what I asked? Is it?”
He laughs, giving a soft roll of his eyes. “Aiden’s upstairs, sleeping soundly like a baby.”
I glance around at the vacant building with steel walls, pillars, and a concrete floor. “And where are we?”
“A safe place.” He raps one of the beams. “Where no one—or nothing can hurt you, which is really important right now, since you’re turning human.”
I’m defenseless and I’m missing my knife and backpack. “Where’s my stuff?”
“In a safe place too,” he says tauntingly and pauses. “So Monarch ended up giving you his watch.”
I scowl. “You went through my things.”
His grin’s all wicked as he walks in front of me and traces a finger slowly down my arm. That strange nervous feeling from my memory creeps up in me.
“You know, a while ago you wouldn’t have cared if I touched something of yours,” he breathes.
I squirm uncomfortably, not sure how to react, yet unable to back away.
“Easy,” he laughs softly. “I’m just messing around.” He steps back. “What’s your next question?”
“What are you going to do with me?”
He reflects this deeply. “I’m not sure yet.” His eyebrows incline together, like he’s confused himself. “So you remember the red door. What else do you remember?”
“I thought I was the one asking the questions?”