I Am Forever (What Kills Me) (18 page)

I turned my head away so fast that a sharp pain bit at my neck.

The spike punched through their flesh with two quick thuds. The vampire groaned. The human retched.

I peeked through my hair. They were both impaled through their chests on the giant needle. The vampire’s blood wormed its way down the spike and onto the limp human. He was wheezing, red bubbling from his lips. His heart beat slowed. Thump. Thump. Silence. Thump. Silence. His eyes stayed open. Dark red spread across his white tunic.

He’s dead.
I was relieved.
Now he can be reborn?

I waited for him to stir. For his body to bronze. For his hair to become spun gold. For his pupils to catch fire.

But instead, his skin grayed. Blood pooled in his body and bruises blossomed on his arms and legs.

Why isn’t he becoming a vampire? Why does he look like he’s decomposing so fast?

All of sudden his back rose up off the slab. I gasped. The spike was retracting, pulling itself from him. The vampire hissed as it slid out of her. I watched its ascent back to the ceiling; heavy droplets of blood rained from its point and plunked onto the vampire’s white clothes.

The clerics wrapped the human in a gauzy white fabric, its web of fibers soaking up the blood. They hoisted his body onto a wooden stretcher. The vampire stayed on her back, her eyelashes flapping, her fangs exposed. After a moment she climbed down from her bunk as if awakening from a deep slumber and turned unsteadily to me and the Empress. She put her hand over her gored heart and bowed. I was afraid she’d tip forward. Instead she rocked back and onto another waiting stretcher. The clerics carried the two out.

“My lady?” Uther said after we returned to my room.

“Yes?”

“You are not your usual merry self. You have not said much since the ritual.”

I watched a man die. What’s merry about that? Though you’d think I’d be used to seeing people get killed.

“Are you all right, my lady?”

The burden of seeing made my eyelids heavy and my stomach sick. I was too drained to even joke.

“Do you have any questions?” Uther asked.

“Who was he?” I asked.

“The human was a soldier. The Monarchy watched him for years and chose him for his skill and his bravery. His platoon was recently under attack, and insurgents threw grenades at them. He picked them up and flung them back to protect his comrades. The last grenade took his right hand.”

“And the vampire?”

“Lady Bo acted as the sire to this honored young man.”

“Will they be okay?”

“Lady Bo is Annu. She is thousands of years old and very strong. She will recover quickly, my lady. The young man will be put to rest in a tomb and will awaken within twenty-four hours with his right hand and with immortal life. He will become a soldier with the Aramatta.”

I hoped that he would not be alone when he awoke. At least I’d had Uther and Lettie to usher me into the underworld.

I said, “It all would’ve been less frightening if they’d just stuck to the cup.”

“The ceremonial drink is a reference to our history. But it used to take hours for a human to drink the amount of blood necessary for rebirth. Now we quicken the process with transfusions."

“And what’s with the giant spear?” I asked with a shudder.

“It is a symbol of their connection. There is an old fable,” he said, holding his finger in the air, “that tells of an Ancient feeding a human her blood to give him immortal life. She is about to stab him with her sword to kill him so he can awaken a vampire. But he tells her that he is afraid. Now the Ancient loves this human, and in response she stabs herself and the human with the same sword—”

I rolled my eyes. "Because nothing says ‘I love you’ like a sword through your heart.”

“You see,” Uther continued patiently, “the Ancient wanted to show the human that she was willing to suffer with him so they could be together. It was the grandest gesture of unity and sacrifice, and we continue to use that gesture today. It declares to the world that the sire and her child are one.”

I imagined the spear as a needle in a sewing machine, piercing through two layers of fabric and binding them. This thread would link them for eternity.

“It sounds nice, but if I were that guy, I would’ve settled for a high-five. It would’ve saved everyone a lot of pain.”

Uther smiled. “You’re channeling Jahl, the wise, today.”

Well, Jahl wasn’t wise enough to avoid war and capture.

I must have made a sarcastic face because Uther opened his palm and gestured to the bed. “My lady, you should rest. I believe you are worn from your nights.”

“I’m sorry, Uther,” I said. “I don’t mean to be moody.”

“You are anything but.”

“Speaking of moody, I want to go downstairs and talk to someone.”

I descended the stairs and Lucas was in the foyer, leaning on the mantel of the fireplace and staring into the flames. I hated seeing him so sullen.

“Hey,” I said.

His eyes flicked up and then back to the fire. “How was your first creation ritual?” he asked flatly.

“Oh, you know, I see vampire-human shish kebabs all of the time. No big deal.”

He smirked.

“To be honest, it was really disturbing,” I said.

“That’s the third ritual I’ve ever witnessed aside from my own,” he said. “My father’s, Taren’s, and now that soldier’s.”

“I can’t imagine how horrible that must have been for you.”

“It was terrifying. I was only nineteen years old.”

“You’re nineteen? I mean, you were?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m seventeen.”

“I figured.”

“Why? Do I act seventeen?”

“Yes.”

“Well, how many seventeen-year-olds have rescued you from death? I think I’m a pretty special seventeen-year-old.”

“I never said you weren’t special. But you’re naive.”

You jerk.
I crossed my arms. “Then why don’t you teach me something instead of just criticizing me all of the time?” I said, my voice rising, my pent-up emotions bursting through the gate.

“I think you have plenty of advisers already.”

“You’re barely talking to me,” I snapped. “And you disappeared when I needed you!”

His face suddenly went slack. I had hurt him. He spoke haltingly, his teeth chewing his words as he chose them. “I am truly sorry that I was not there. It upsets me that I failed to protect you...”

I regretted saying it. I knew it reminded him of how he had failed to keep the Monarchy from killing his sisters.

“...but you didn’t need me anyway,” he continued. “You have guards, soldiers, the lieutenant general and your precious chaperone to protect you.”

“My precious chaperone?”

He turned away.

But I do need you. I always need you.

Before I could speak Uther came into the room.

“I am sorry to disturb you, my lady,” he said. He must have heard us and was coming to defuse the tension.

“It’s okay.”
Uther, you had awesome timing when you stopped the soldiers from killing Lucas and me. But this is crappy, crappy timing.

“I am turning in for the day,” he said, “and I wanted to know if you needed anything.”

“I’m fine, Uther, thank you.”

“All right, my lady. Please rest, as you need to recharge yourself.”

“I’m going to lie down,” Lucas said.

Wait. We’re not done.
He avoided my gaze and walked by me.

“Fine. Me too,” I said. I stomped on the first stair so hard that it came out of the wall.

“Oh!” I covered my mouth. I then swatted the air before stepping up on the next stair. “Bah, whatever!”

I paced my room. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. I wanted to crawl into a dark place. I didn’t know what I wanted. I felt bruised and shredded on the inside. The person here that I cared about most was slipping away. Yet I couldn’t grab him because I was carrying an impossible weight.

The well. Noel. The general. The senator’s attack. The ritual.
It’s all too much.
I feared that one more thing would break me beyond repair.

I stood at the front door of my home, listening to the chime of our doorbell.

My father answered the door. His face was gaunt; the skin under his eyes was purple and puffy. For a second, maybe half a second, he looked hopeful. His bushy eyebrows lifted, his mouth opened.

Dad. I’m home. I’ve missed you. Oh God, I’ve missed you.

I didn’t realize just how much until I saw him. And it broke me. I wanted to say his name. So he wouldn’t be afraid. So he would know it was me in case I looked different.

It’s me.

But instead, his brow pressed down on his eyes. Suspicious. Angry.

“Who are…” he started.

A shadow shoved my father inside. A burlap sack thrown over his head muffled his cry. The figure lifted my father off his feet with one hand and dropped him, as if picking up and tossing laundry.

Vampire.

My father’s legs buckled and he crumpled onto our welcome mat, a bag of moving bones. He groaned.

“John!” my mother called, high-pitched and panicked from the kitchen.

No no no no no.

Something dropped into the sink with a clang and my mother rushed into the foyer. Another vampire intercepted her, enveloped her in a bag, and hoisted her over his shoulder.

Oh my God. Oh my God.
I was frozen.
Horrified, I could only scream and watch as if invisible chains tied me down.

I heard a gasp and looked up. I met my sister’s eyes. She had just come out of her room, her hair mussed, an earbud dangling from one ear. She stood frozen at the top of the stairs, looking over the railing.

Tiffany.

We both screamed at the same time.

RUN!

A vampire leaped up from the first floor and grabbed the railing. Tiffany reeled away and fell. As he swung himself up and over, she crawled to her feet and dived into her room. I ran up the stairs.
No. There’s no way out there.

Sprawled on her stomach, she crawled under her bed. But she was so loud. Her pounding heart. Her rapid breath. The tick of her tears onto her arm.

STAY AWAY FROM HER.

The vampire bent over, grabbed her ankle, and dragged her out shrieking and clawing at the carpet. He forced a bag over her head and bunched it at her waist, trapping her arms against her sides. He then carried her out of the room as if she was a duffel bag.

Downstairs the vampires had brought a big wooden box into the foyer. “Who are you?!” my father cried through his canvas mask.

They picked him up and dropped him into the box. They then put my mother in beside him. She was sobbing unintelligible words. They laid my sister on top of them and shut the lid.

Don’t do this. Stop. STOP.

Suddenly I was inside the box. In the darkness I could hear my father yelling. My sister twisted herself to take the weight off my parents. They rattled against each other.

LET US OUT.

I slammed my fist into the wood, and all of a sudden cold water rushed against my skin. I gasped and it filled my lungs. Water? Had they filled the box with water? Or had they dropped us in the ocean? My family would drown. They would die.