The Night House (26 page)

James

I don’t know how long I’ve been in here. It’s barely light enough to see, and I haven’t heard a sound in what feels like days.

I’m helplessly rubbing my wrists against the rope, trying to loosen it or something, anything. It must have been at least an hour, maybe two. I can feel several vampires outside the room. Eventually, the door opens.

In come two vampires: my stalker and a teenager. Stalker shoves a gag into my mouth before I can even say hello. I cough helplessly against it. Then he sits across from me, staring between me and the other vamp. The teen can’t seem to sit still. I think he has to be around my age, until I remember he’s a vampire. Who knows how long he’s been 17. He’s pacing back and forth in front of the fire.

“When do we start moving him?” the teen asks.

Stalker shoots him a look. “You don’t listen to anything, do you?”

“It’s hard to pay attention when I haven’t fed all day.”

Stalker forces my head back by my hair, exposing my neck. Pain shoots down my whole body, and I let out a muffled yelp. The teen can barely contain himself. I feel his excitement crawling over my skin.

“Go ahead,” Stalker says. “It’ll help you focus.”

Teen Vamp buries his fangs in my neck.

I cry out from the surprising amount of pain—and then I can feel the nauth cooling that pain and spreading through me.

I have to stop him.

I keep rubbing my wrists against the rope, more urgently than ever, and I feel a spike of pain. With Teen Vamp feeding from me and my wrists bleeding, I feel like a balloon with a hole in it. He’s drinking so fast; I can feel him getting stronger. If I just focus on him, maybe I can take that strength. I just have to focus.

Focus
.

It’s like I’ve had a shot of adrenaline. I feel no pain, only pure energy.

The ropes start to slide down my wrists, my blood acting as a lubricant. I take my shot: I ram my feet straight up between Teen Vamp’s legs. He releases me, giving me the chance to wrench my hands free and snatch Micah’s pin from my pocket. I jab the rusted point into Teen Vamp’s arm with all the strength I can muster. He gasps and stumbles back.

Stalker shouts, “Damn it!” And then he’s in front of me, his hands around my throat. “You’re done,” he growls.

I can’t breathe.

I try to stab him, too, but he forces my arm back, all while strangling me with his free hand.

There is so much pain, too much to feel. My vision starts to fade.

Teen Vamp cries out, “Alec!”

Stalker tosses me aside like a rag doll. I desperately tear at the gag as I cough for air. When I finally pull it out, I gasp like a fish out of water, my throat burning while I dry heave. I see the two vamps on the ground. Stalker is leaning over Teen Vamp.

“Hold still,” Stalker barks. He puts his mouth over the stab mark on Teen Vamp’s arm and sucks, then spits out blood—like you’d do for a snake bite.

Teen Vamp is terrified.

I jump from the sound of the door banging open.

“What the hell happened in here?” Finn actually shows emotion: anger. He takes in the scene, then turns to me.

“He brought rusted iron.” Teen Vamp pants like he’s losing his breath. “The smell of his blood must have covered the scent.”

Finn steps in front of me, arms crossed. “I’ve had enough of you.”

I take a deep breath and fill myself with Finn’s outer calm and the anger buried deep underneath, and then I launch myself at Finn, the sharp end of the pin sticking out between my fingers.

Just when I think I’m going to connect, he’s not there.

I hit the ground, hard, and then Finn presses his foot into my back. He bends down and jerks my wrist backwards.

White-hot pain rushes down my arm. I think I’m screaming, but I can’t hear it.

As black spots dance in my vision, I watch Finn pick up the pin from the ground—so delicately that he could be performing surgery—and sticks it to his jacket.

“Let’s get him out of here,” he says. “Our beloved monarch is waiting for us.”

Finn steps out of the room and three more vampires rush in. One of them kicks me onto my stomach, but I barely feel it over the way my wrist is screaming. I curl into a fetal position and clutch my arm.

I hear one of the vamps say, “Maybe we should make this a little easier, you know?”

“He’s gonna die anyway,” another says. “What’s a little nauth gonna change?”

And so a vampire kneels down next to me and does me the biggest favor I could have asked for at that moment.

He bites me.

Bianca

We still haven’t moved. By the time I have swallowed my tears, I don’t feel like talking. The promise of another slap is not worth asking where we’re going.

I remind myself that I have to save Micah. I’d do anything for him. I’ll be Jeremiah’s doll for now.

“They’re will be no biting tonight,” Jeremiah says. “My circle master will be attending, and we must show him the proper respect. It is far too easy to drink to excess when biting.”

No biting?

The one time I actually need him to bite me. The one time it has nothing to do with drugs.

“Are you nervous?” he asks. “Is it that bad? I don’t pretend to know what it’s like to be an addict.”

The car jerks forward, but it slows almost immediately. It comes to a halt in front of the subway station on Market Street—literally less than a block away from the Night House.

The door is opened for us, and I climb out into the warm night. Though I can’t see anyone, I can feel vamps hovering in the shadows.

Jeremiah holds his arm out to me. “This way.”

I freeze. We’ll be on the subway, headed anywhere. What if the movement makes James lose track of me?

“Bianca,” he whispers. “Do not make me wait for you.”

I take his arm, feeling sick from the touch.

We walk to the turnstiles; instead of going through them, Jeremiah jumps over the mechanism. Two vamps lift me off the ground and set me on the other side. I catch up to Jeremiah as we head down the stairs. He holds his arm out to me once again, and I take it.

The platform below is crawling with vampires, their humans in tow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so horrible. So many girls and boys, not much older than me, hanging onto the arms of vamps. They are all sick and pale.

Everyone watches us.

Jeremiah practically shines from the attention of the vampires. Now he is the nobleman who deserves every single stare and feeds off it.

The humans stare at me, not him. Some of them pity me, I can see. They know what it means to be on the arm of the Monarch. Some of them seem jealous, and that sickens me even more than touching Jeremiah’s arm.

He smiles widely for the crowd. “I am so glad all of you could make it. I have been looking forward to this.” His voice echoes through the empty subway halls. “We’ll be leaving momentarily.”

We step off to the side where two vamps wearing all black stand silently together. Their black officer pins send chills through me. One with blond hair watches the crowd. The other, a thickset brunette, stares at me. Jeremiah motions for me to go to them.

“Arms out,” the brunette says.

I do as he says, wondering where I could have possibly hidden a weapon. The blond spins around to face me, his left eye twitching.

“What is that?” He swoops in and presses my left wrist to his face.

“Vanilla,” I say, trying to control my heart rate. “It’s edible perfume. My boss makes us wear it.”

He frowns, and I try not to panic.

The brunette says, “Seems clear to me.”

The blond crosses his arms and says, “Move along.”

Jeremiah takes my arm. That is when I notice that one of the subway trains has opened its doors. We walk the length of the platform, heading for the last car. Priscilla waits in front of the doors, with a human teenage boy at her arm. Her long black gown is stunning, accenting her pale skin and jet-black hair. She is movie star glamorous. There is a pin on her dress, shiny blue.

“Jeremiah.” She beams at him. “How nice to see you again.”

He nods and kisses her hand. “My lady.”

“I must say,” she says, glancing around the subway, “you’ve done an excellent job securing the location. Not an uninvited human in sight. How did you manage?”

“Patience and funding. This line is closed for roughly four hours at a time. All we had to do was find the right people to make the necessary arrangements.”

Priscilla smiles as she and her human step onboard. Jeremiah and I follow. Another vampire, also in all black, comes in after us, and then the doors close. He opens a small kit and offers what’s inside.

Needles.

My hand twitches.

Even when my life hangs in the balance, I think about nauth.

Jeremiah points out a seat for me, and Priscilla sets her human beside me. The vamp in black lowers himself before us and removes an unused syringe.

The boy and I study each other. We reach a silent understanding.

In this one glance, I can see his history. He has soft eyes that I know are used to crying. His brown hair is thin, from the stress and anemia. Vampires still make him nervous. He probably hasn’t spoken since she took him.

The vamp with the needle begins filling a glass with the boy’s blood. And then it’s my turn. I don’t even have to share a needle. Micah would be happy.

Priscilla smirks. “I do hope the girl’s owner isn’t too upset that you’re taking her away from him.”

Jeremiah smiles. “Even if he is, he can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“Right you are, my dear.”

When the vamp has two half-full goblets of blood, he hands them to Priscilla and Jeremiah. They accept them gingerly. The mouths of the cups are wide, so they can drink through their fangs without bumping them on the glass.

Priscilla raises her goblet as her fangs slide into place. “May you both be very happy together.”

They laugh and toast with our blood.

James

The world is like a smear of paint. All the colors around me are blurring into one. The orange and red of the fire melts into the dark ceiling, which washes over me in a wave. It’s beautiful.

There is a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that says I should be trying to focus, but I see no need. There is nothing as important as this amazing feeling building up inside me. All my blood has been replaced with happiness. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s so perfect.

There are more important things than this. Than me. Someone is counting on me. Bianca.

Where is she?

My head is so foggy, I can’t even think about trying to find her. I have to get out of this haze. I need a clear head. I need strength.

I need Shiloh and Ally.

They’re still at Shiloh’s. Ally is terrified, probably because she can’t find me. Shiloh holds her, feeling guilty that he’s glad he gets to hold her. He’s worried, too, and cursing himself for encouraging me to get caught up in this mess. I wonder if they’ve told my parents yet.

My eyes burn and cheeks feel sticky. Ally is crying and I feel her tears. She’s been crying for a while now. Shiloh rubs her back and whispers softly. This is torture for Ally. Sitting still has never been her strong suit, especially when she’s upset or nervous. Shiloh will keep her safe, though. She knows that.

The more I think about them, the more I begin to feel them, and the more I am able to think clearly. The nauth is still in my system, which numbs me physically, but as long as I am connected to Ally and Shiloh, I can at least understand what’s happening. I just need to replace my high with their relative calm. My connection to them, however, won’t clear up my vision.

I know this much: I am Jeremiah’s guest of honor. That most likely means that Jeremiah wants to kill me. The terror that weaves through my body makes my blood run cold. I also know that I have been moved. My body is starting to ache from the hard floor I’m on. I try to notice my surroundings. I see pictures on the wall—ads. And a map.

The subway. Of course. No one except the homeless to see you, and it’s underground so the noise won’t carry to the street. They probably paid off a few humans to keep the trains running after hours. Or threatened them.

I tell my body to fight, but I can’t move. The nauth is too strong.

And then, everything changes. I see
him,
a crumpled form on the ground. I am no longer the only captive.

Micah.

He’s passed out next to me. Limp blond curls surround his boyish face. His hands and feet are bound, too, but I can’t imagine he’s been putting up much of a fight. His skin is so pale and sallow. His white shirt is stained with sweat, like every breath is a challenge.

This is what Bianca has been fighting for.

I’ve never felt someone so close to death.

Bianca

The train starts to slow.

“The fun is about to begin.” Priscilla winks at Jeremiah. She sticks one of her fangs into the glass, drinking the blood silently. I can
see
the blood traveling through her fang, turning it pink momentarily. “The youngest King of the Northeast. Darling, you are special.”

The doors open to reveal Caesar, elaborately dressed in black and gold. He’s beaming.

“Jeremiah, my boy.” He is like a proud father. “Everything is ready for you.”

“Thank you, Caesar.” Jeremiah nods at him. “We’ll see you soon.”

Priscilla takes Caesar’s arm, leaving her human to follow behind her. I keep my eyes on Jeremiah until he returns my stare.

“May I speak?” I ask.

He straightens the sleeves of his suit jacket and puts on his best cold stare. “Yes.”

I gaze up at him. Micah can’t be far from here, and the reality of this hits me hard. My poor Micah. I’m his Bumble Bee. I should never have let it get this far. He probably needs blood. I know what I have to do to save him.

“I’ll willingly go with you. All you have to do is let Micah go. Just promise me he’ll be safe, and I’ll be your St. Germain.”

Jeremiah’s eyes narrow ever so slightly.

My hands are shaking. “You know me. And I know you. Just because I’ve never seen you be merciful doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re capable of it. And I think it matters to you how I see you.”