The Fugitives, A Dystopian Vampire Novel: Book Four: The Superiors Series (7 page)

“I swear that I’ll never touch you again. I’d put a stake through my own heart before I’d hurt you. Please don’t do this.”

“It’s not about that,” she said, although of course they both knew it was.

“It’s cold out, and we haven’t any fuel. If anyone stays out here, it should be me.”

Cali looked at him, not able to hide her shock. The thought almost made her laugh. Her in a big Superior house with a hot shower, and warm air, and all the electronics she didn’t even know how to use, and him out here in the dirt house with nothing.

“That’s madness,” she said, but she smiled when she said it. “Besides, I like it out here. This is how it should be. You in your house and me in mine. I have clothes, and food, and supplies.”

“I don’t like you out here by yourself. I can sleep on the couch and you can have the bedroom…”

“Draven, it’s fine. I’m fine. Let me do this. The other sapiens live in these houses, right? And they’re fine. I’m not going to run away, and nothing is going to happen to me. I have the knife, anyway,” she said, pulling up the side of the mattress to show him the wooden dagger he’d made, now stained dark. “You can come out and check on me and eat whenever you want, and I don’t have to worry about waking you during the day. I’ll come inside if I get cold. I promise.”

He frowned at the sky.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” she said. “Close the door, it’s windy. Why are you standing out there?”

Draven looked at her and then at the doorframe. “I…I can’t come in.”

“Don’t be silly, of course you can. I’m not going to knife you. Close the door and come eat.” She tightened the blankets around her. Draven sat cross-legged on the floor beside her, pulled up her sleeve, and studied her arm for a long time. He’d taken all the bumps out of the other arm and had began working on this one. But after a while, he pulled her sleeve down without biting and stood up.

“Not tonight. I ate last night when I was out.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and stood looking down at her for a minute before he turned and left without saying anything else. Cali pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and lay with her eyes open, a sadness as bone-deep as the cold settling into her. She thought it must be almost time for her woman’s days. She wasn’t usually so emotional.

CHAPTER twelve

For a few days, it seemed almost like the tracker’s pod knew Byron was following it. Byron was sure it wasn’t on Draven or Cali, and he cursed himself for telling Draven that was how they’d tracked Ander together in the desert. Now Draven knew to leave his pod. But he didn’t know they had other ways of tracking him.

The device stopped moving the fourth day Byron spent in the woods, and two days later, he found it on the shore of a river, in the pocket of a belt that had been chewed through by an animal. He picked it up and turned it over. The belt had animal fur stuck along the inside. That bastard. That too-smart-for-his-own-good
backar chodu
had belted the device to an animal instead of destroying it, making it look like it was moving. It had been turned off for months, but even when it was off, they could track it.

Byron couldn’t understand why Draven would save one tracker’s pod and destroy the other’s. Maybe it had been destroyed when Draven killed Lapin, or maybe it was all part of his elaborate plan. Byron couldn’t figure out Draven’s strategy, why he did these things, what had happened out here in these woods, what had happened to the trackers.

He had figured out enough, though. They had followed Draven into the woods and disappeared. Their tracking devices were ruined or made to fool anyone who followed them. Byron knew enough to make Draven a suspect, officially. Before continuing, he turned on his own pod and entered the information into the database. He found nothing in the files that night, but the next evening, he received a message that another tracker and an Enforcer were being sent to search the woods for clues.

His job done, Byron returned to his car. He didn’t need to confirm the kill. Now he had just cause to kill Draven. Back in Princeton, he visited his saps at the farm where he’d left them, had a meal, and took the bottled sap the farmer had collected for him. Then he showered and repacked his gear. Things weren’t going to be so rustic on this trip. He’d be taking the car, and he’d only need to camp if Draven had gone into the rural area around Moines, which Byron doubted. Moines was a populous area, and until a hundred miles south of the city, Draven would be easily accessible.

Byron entered his information into the system, just in case. He’d get the bloodbagging bastard, but there was always that chance… He had a wife and kids to think about. The trip was legitimate now, though. As an Enforcer, he was going to collect a stolen sapien and capture a suspect. He had nothing to hide anymore—except activating Draven’s tracer. But that was a small matter, easy to overlook. Besides, he’d been right in doing it. Draven had turned out to be a suspect in a double murder, which was more than Byron had hoped for. When he’d set out, he’d assumed one of the trackers lived. He’d thought Lathan was incapacitated, but he hadn’t thought him dead. Draven was crazier than he’d imagined.

The next evening, when the sky had reached a deep navy color, he set out. He maneuvered his way through traffic with unusual patience. He even whistled as he called up music on his car’s electronic device. Drumming on the steering wheel to keep the beat, he sang along to some music from his human life—an awful ballad by a band called Snakebite that he wouldn’t have admitted to knowing when he’d been human. He didn’t remember hearing the song before, but somehow, he knew every word.

Soon traffic thinned, and he could push his speed higher and weave between cars easily. His spirits lifted as he thought of leaving Princeton, the city he’d grown to despise to his very marrow. When the lights grew dim behind him, he turned to watch them twinkle, merry and deceptive in their warmth. He knew better. The city was cold and frustrating. He breathed a sigh of contentment when the last of the lights disappeared and the road aimed downward more often than up.

He hadn’t known it was possible to hate a place so much—it was only a city, after all, and cities were impersonal by their very nature. They weren’t living or dead, but frozen. He’d never held any animosity for something so artificial. But this city was a place that tried to suck away the life he’d held onto for two centuries. Something about it was evil, as if the very ground under the concrete seethed with hatred for its inhabitants.

That day, Byron stayed in a hotel at the foot of the mountains. He loved the town upon sight. But he still had to cross the plains to get to the man who had wronged him, so he rose at dark and set off.

His second life, his Superior life, had been a gift, the greatest blessing he’d ever received. Without the evolution, he would have lived out his life as an ordinary, unimportant man, who never made history, did anything of note, left a mark on the world or even the small part he’d inhabited. Now he was important, a Second Order, an Enforcer. Now he had power. And now, it was time to use it.

CHAPTER thirteen

Draven woke and showered, as usual, and dressed in the homeowner’s clothing. She had something for every occasion, and her looser trousers, sweaters, and t-shirts fit him snugly. He wondered where she was, who she was. Most of her equipment was outdated but still functional. That worked out well for Draven. He could use the appliances, lights, music players, and even one ancient pod to access the news. Though he didn’t imagine he’d need IDs even for the communications device, he didn’t dare use it.

After several days, Draven stopped trying to convince Cali to come back to the house. At first, he’d found evidence that she came in while he took sleep. Though she was not one to punish herself, nonetheless it comforted him to know she fed herself. He hadn’t noticed evidence of her visits in a few days or caught her scent clinging to things.

When he’d dressed, he ate a packet of powdered sap from the cabinet. The supply had dwindled to three remaining packets. He stood, his attention caught by a strange, metallic hum in his head. It had begun a month ago, and every now and then, a pang, almost painful, buzzed through him and disappeared as quickly as it had arisen. He pressed his palm to his forehead, shifted his shoulders, rubbing his wrist against his hip without thought. He was hungry, and weak, and his head had adopted a constant dull pain along with the strange twinges that didn’t seem to originate in his head but ended there.

He paced the small kitchen area, then stepped out into the hallway and opened the back door. The wind still blew with the sting of winter, though the sunlight had taken on a warmer aspect as it lay over the damp backyard. That evening, the light was diluted and gentle, thawing towards spring. Draven stepped back inside and took a light jacket from the hook inside the door. He had grown so used to the house in a few weeks that he almost thought of it as his own.

In the backyard, a solitary bird sang. At Cali’s hut, he stood listening a moment. He could hear her moving inside, could savor her scent lingering and mixing with the musty scent of her food. She was eating. He moved away, towards the fence, then stopped. He hadn’t seen her in six nights. Backtracking, he assured himself he had good reason to look in on her. He knocked and waited, but she didn’t answer.

“Cali?” he said. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she called back.

“May I come inside?”

“Of course.” The door swung inwards and she stood before him, wearing the same outfit she’d worn the last time he’d seen her, the night she’d moved out. “Oh, hi,” she said, as if she hadn’t known it was he that knocked.

“You’ve…your place looks lovely,” he said, holding his hands clasped in front of him. She smelled achingly luscious and febrile.

“Thanks,” she said. “Um, so, how are you? You hungry?”

“That’s not why I came.”

“Oh. Then why are you here?”

“I thought I’d ascertain if you needed anything. Food or anything else.”

“Maybe…I don’t want to ask for a lot, but I don’t have any other clothes, just this one thing and a ratty old shift…”

“The house is full of clothes, Cali. It’s safer to take them here than go to a store.”

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I wanted my clothes from the backpacks. I don’t need any Superior clothes. I just want my old ones.”

“Then take them,” Draven said. “The house is yours as much as it is mine. And you don’t have to wear those stained old things. Get some new ones, whatever makes you comfortable.”

“That’s what makes me comfortable.”

“The door is open. I’ll be gone most of the night, so go in and take what you will, you don’t have to see me. If you want to leave while I’m gone…”

“Where would I go?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought since…you’re no longer happy…”

“I’m happy,” Cali said, shaking her hair back and meeting his eye. “I’m fine. It’s great.”

“Very well, then. I’m glad. So you don’t need anything? Food or…”

“What are you eating?”

“I’m eating.”

“You look sick.”

“Do you want me to send you back? I could drop you off…” He’d become so tongue-tied with her, but what could he say? Nothing that would erase what he’d done, his unpardonable sin against her.

“No,” she said. “I don’t know why you think I’m not happy. This place is the best place I’ve ever lived.”

The barren, dismal room depressed him. In it, Cali hardly seemed the same girl he’d caught cautiously examining the contents of his undershorts a week ago. Strong and detached, she showed none of the fumbling embarrassment of that night. The night he’d taken advantage of her so shamelessly.

“You’re alright then? I don’t mind getting you things. I’ll be near stores.”

“Are you going to find…another woman?” Cali darted a quick look at him and then away.

Draven shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps. Unless…you don’t want me to.”

“Why would I care?”

“You wouldn’t,” Draven said, turning away. “I’ll be going, then.”

“Draven?”

“Yes?” He turned back, a foolish desire rising in him for her to say she did care, to tell him not to go, not to find someone. But she would never offer him the alternative.

“Don’t you need to eat?”

“Do you not think I can care for myself?”

“No, of course. You’re right. Of course you can.”

“Goodnight.”

“Oh, wait…can you get me…” Cali shifted around, her face reddening. “Well, for my woman’s days…I need some things…”

“Yes, I know what you need. I’ll bring them in the morning.”

Cali gave him a small, relieved smile, like she was thankful for not having to name what she needed. She nodded and her lips bit off the smile. “Thanks.”

“If you want anything in the house, I’ll be out, so find what things you require.”

Before his hunger could overwhelm him, he turned to go. As he scaled the fence, dropped to the other side, and walked out of the neighborhood, his thoughts turned to Cali. She looked better already, better than when they’d arrived over a week ago. Color had seeped into her cheeks, the hollows around her eyes had filled in a bit, her eyes grown brighter, her movements less lethargic.

He jumped the fence into a nicer neighborhood, cast his senses, and scanned the layout of the backyard. He fed on a sapien, then two more in another neighborhood. He had become an expert at quieting them, using just the right balance of soothing and threatening to ensure their obedience.

For a moment, he wondered if the criminal he’d killed had used this same technique. Being a Second, Ander had likely loved his life more than Draven did his. Though Draven had often suffered the burden of guilt for what he had done, he’d never wondered before if Ander was simply a man, like himself. More like himself than he’d like to admit. After all, didn’t they share the same perversion, the attraction to humans?

After eating, Draven worked his way into the business sector of Moines. There, he sat on the low wall surrounding a huge building and tried not to think about the night when he’d awakened to find his arms empty of the warm girl he’d fallen asleep holding, about the way she’d come back to him and the warmth of her tiny fingertips probing his skin, about the careful slip of her finger under the band of his shorts and how much he had wanted what came next—what hadn’t. He hadn’t doubted in that sleepy moment that it was right, hadn’t thought he’d stop her. He hadn’t thought of her fragile body, of her death. He’d only thought of his own longing, of remaining perfectly still to see what she wanted.

But nothing had happened. He hadn’t hurt her or done anything to endanger her. But she’d known, known his deviant desires, and had taken herself out of his reach, as she should have. She had done the right thing even when he hadn’t, when he hadn’t strength enough. Though she was only a sap, she’d known right from wrong more certainly than he had.

“Eva,” he said, rising from the wall. Eva turned to him, her hair pulled up into the stylish netting women wore. She looked surprised and guarded and smug all at once. “Is it wrong for me to have come?”

“That depends on what you’re here for.”

“An apology?”

“Then let’s have it.”

“I’m sorry I judged you so quickly,” Draven said. “I know people have different views, and sometimes they are driven by necessity. I did not mean to be harsh.”

“That was a good start. Do you want papers? I’m afraid Meyer’s not here now, but he’ll be in tomorrow.”

“No. Not that.”

“You’re hungry,” she said, tilting her head to study him. “I can tell. Do you want me to take you back to the saps?”

“Not that, either.”

She smiled. “Then I’m glad to see you.”

Draven had crowded her against the wall while they spoke, but he reminded himself she liked a gentle lover, so he only brushed his mouth against her cool cheek and returned her smile. “I’m glad you’re glad,” he said.

It was all so easy with Superior women. He had only to say a certain thing, in a certain manner, with just such intonation and a look just so, and she would know what he wanted. She would say yes, or no, and they’d fuck or they wouldn’t. Nothing could ever be that simple with… But no. It wasn’t simple with Cali, because she was not a Superior. It was complicated, as it should be, to remind him of the wrongness of it. If it had been simple, he would have done terrible things to her and lost her.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a very nice place,” Eva said, then hurried to add, “Not because you’re not a nice guy and all, and I’m sure you have your pride. So let’s just say I’m inviting you back to my place?”

He forced his thoughts to the present moment. “I’m honored.”

“We’ll see. I hope you’re worth it.”

He smirked at her. “I imagine I will be.”

Eva’s place was small and neat, not unlike Draven’s last apartment. It seemed years since he’d seen his place. He could hardly remember it now. Eva’s place was a bit larger, with two windows and a nicer living area. She dropped her bag on the table and began to pull off her high heels.

“Leave them on,” Draven said.

She gave him a calculating look, and he thought she’d say no, but she returned her foot to the floor, shoes still in place. “Okay then,” she said. “Want a drink first?”

“After.”

“Well, I’m not sure you’re living up to your boast.”

“Now it is you who judges. We’ve not even begun.”

“Okay. We’ll do it your way.”

“I like it my way.” He picked her up and leaned over her, laying her back on the couch. He kissed her, hardly felt the tingle in his teeth that used to arouse him so much. But she was here, and he needed this. Needed to get it out of his system. He sat up and took off her shoes slowly and kissed her ankles.

“I thought you wanted them on,” she said with a smile.

“I wanted to take them off.”

“I apologize for judging.”

He kissed her again, slowly, his mouth moving over her ankles and the rest of her body before he tasted her mouth. When the thing was over and done, he stood and pulled up his trousers. “A drink now?”

She sighed, but she rose and brought two cans of sap, room temperature. As she sipped her sap, he studied her. She was beautiful in a way that Cali wasn’t, but lacking something. Though her hair had nearly the same color, it had an overly shiny, plastic appearance, and even out of the netting, it looked too neat and artificial. Her breasts were full but high, certainly plastics, and her legs were smooth and shiny, pleasantly thick in the thighs. A year ago, he would have called her perfect, as any man would. And though he couldn’t point to a particular flaw in her, something wasn’t right. Her beauty had a cold and calculated aspect, the same as he’d expect from a prostitute. Were all women this way and he’d never noticed?

“Did I deliver on my promise?” he asked after a long silence.

“You were gentle,” she said.

“And you were satisfied?”

“I suppose.”

“But…?”

“You weren’t there.”

“Pardon?”

“You were so gentle it was like you weren’t there at all.”

“I thought that is what you wanted.”

“No, I wanted gentle and…caring. You were gentle and vacant.”

“But you were fulfilled?”

“Yes, but only because you did the right things. You might have been absent altogether, sleeping standing up, for all the ways you showed you cared about me. A plastic device would give me as much satisfaction, and I’d feel as cared for as I do now.”

“I don’t care for you, so how could I make you feel as if I do?”

“Maybe you can’t,” Eva said, shrugging. “At least you tried. I’ve never met a man who could give me what I wanted.”

“Perhaps you want too much.” Without knowing why, he suddenly he wanted to offend her.

“I want it all,” Eva said, gathering her hair up into its netting once more.

He’d taken a challenge to prove something, and only afterwards realized he’d been drawn into a trap. Technically, he’d succeeded, and yet, she’d proved him nothing but a fool.