Phoenix

by Elizabeth Richards

  She looks up at me expectantly, and all thoughts of tomorrow vanish from my mind. It’s just her, me, in this moment. I cup a hand around her face and gently kiss her. The echo of her heart tremors inside my chest, nervous and excited, as is mine.

  We lie down, and her blond curls spill across the pillow. Anticipation hangs in the air between us. The moment has finally come. My eyes drift over her face, her body, my vision shimmering around the edges. The Sight. It’s a force Darklings use to mark their prey, to ward off other Darklings. I envelop her in its enthralling darkness, telling her one thing: you belong to me.

  My fingers glide over her flushed cheeks and lips, down her neck, stopping at the gold pendant peeking out the top of her purple corset dress. A silk ribbon crisscrosses up the lacy bodice, secured at the top with a simple bow. I playfully tug on the ribbon, and the bodice unravels to reveal the creamy, rose-blushed flesh underneath, marked only by a thin red scar from the heart transplant she had as a child. Fire blazes through my veins, and I let out a ragged breath, barely able to control my thirst.

  Natalie’s blue eyes simmer as she holds my gaze for a lingering heartbeat, knowing the effect she’s having on me. Finally, she entwines her fingers in my hair and draws me toward her. The kiss is like lightning, sending shock waves into my heart. Ba-boom, ba-boom! I hardly notice when she unbuttons my shirt. There’s none of the uncertainty of this morning. Her fingers caress my back, my arms, my chest, sliding over my stomach muscles toward my belt buckle. My poison sacs flood with venom.

  She parts her mouth, deepening our kiss, and I let out a low groan. My whole body trembles with pent-up tension; my skin is ablaze. My hands slide up her legs, lifting her tulle skirt at the same time. I roll on top of her and force myself to hold back, just for a moment, and drink her in. I want to savor this perfect moment, because tomorrow everything is going to change. She won’t look at me like this ever again, with pure love, trust, desire. One way or another, tomorrow I’ll reveal myself for the man I truly am. A traitor.

  “I love you,” I say, my voice hoarse.

  “I love you too,” she replies. “With all my heart.”

  I kiss her, unable to wait a second longer. She gasps, then a sigh, and it’s just like I remembered. Bliss.

  * * *

  A shaft of sunlight spills between the wooden boards in front of the windows, waking me up. I rub an exhausted hand over my face, struggling to drag myself into the land of the living. My left hand dangles over the edge of the bed, and my fingers brush against the lacy material of Natalie’s torn, discarded dress. I grin. I’ll have to buy her a new one.

  The mattress dips slightly as Natalie rolls over to face me, the white sheet twisting around her body. A tangle of curly blond hair surrounds her flushed face, her blue eyes sparkling the same color as the engagement ring glistening on her finger.

  I tuck a curl behind her ear. “Last night was . . . wow.”

  She shyly bites her lip.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask.

  “Famished,” she replies. “What time is it, anyway?”

  I check the clock on my nightstand and then leap out of bed, panicked.

  “Grab some clothes—we’re late!”

  Twenty minutes later, we’re pushing our way through the crowds in the town square where one of the polling stations has been set up for the public vote today. I can’t believe we’re late. Of all the days to sleep in! I snatch a look over my shoulder. Two Sentry guards are walking a short distance behind us, guns slung over their shoulders. They followed us here from the church. Natalie glances at them too, frowning.

  “They’re not very subtle, are they?” she murmurs. “If they’re trying to intimidate us, it’s not working.”

  Yes it is.

  I tighten my grip on her hand, my mind racing with ways to protect her, if it comes down to it. I still haven’t decided which way I’m going to vote. My guards will slice bits off her, piece by piece . . . I look over my shoulder again. I can probably take on those two guards, but not the hundred others patrolling the town square. What am I going to do? I’m running out of time to make my decision.

  “Phoenix!”

  The three boys I saw playing in the street the other day run over to me, followed by their mom, Sally. She looks anxious and fidgety. Little Phoenix tugs at my jacket sleeve. I’m dressed in my Phoenix outfit today—LLF jacket, black pants and boots—as Roach requested, although I drew the line at putting on the makeup. Natalie’s wearing a pair of my pants and a shirt tied at the waist with a leather belt.

  “Good luck today,” Little Phoenix says.

  My stomach knots.

  “Leave him alone, boys,” Sally says, ushering them away. She doesn’t wave good-bye this time.

  Everyone’s tense, but I’m not surprised; this isn’t an ordinary day. On the rooftops of the buildings around us, giant digital screens broadcast live footage of the voting that’s happening in the other megastates across the United Sentry States. At the bottom of each screen is a graphic letting us know the results so far.

  It’s rare to have a vote done in public this way. Usually they’re secret ballots, but Purian Rose insisted on it, claiming he didn’t want Humans for Unity to “try any tricks” and fix the voting. That probably was one of his reasons. I’m guessing the other reason is he wants the whole nation to see me vote in favor of his segregation law.

  The polling station has been set up beside the three wooden crosses used to execute traitors. The middle cross still bears the scars of my torture and failed execution, the acacia wood blackened with soot, the cobbled ground forever stained with my blood. I look away.

  One of the benefits of the voting being done in public is that the Legion guards are able to watch from the Boundary Wall and report back to the other Darklings. They’re not allowed to vote themselves, nor are the Bastets or Lupines, as they’re not technically citizens of the United Sentry States. I’m only allowed to vote because I’m half human, and have a citizenship card. I can just picture them: whole families huddled together, waiting to hear their fate, relying on me. Trusting me.

  Also standing on the wall are Garrick and Sigur. A gold mask obscures Sigur’s scarred face, protecting him from the worst of the misty sunlight. It reminds me of the first time I saw him and Evangeline standing there, during his niece’s execution. Evangeline. Desire and grief jumble up inside me as I think about her, the girl who was meant to be my Blood Mate. I haven’t heard from her since she left Black City, in search of more twin-bloods. I have no idea if she’s still alive, although if anyone could make it on her own, it would be Evangeline.

  We finally reach the stage and find a frantic-looking Day waiting for us.

  “I was just on my way to get you,” she says. “Why are you so late?”

  “We slept in,” Natalie says.

  “You might want to come up with a better excuse than that,” Day says. “Roach is out for your blood. You were supposed to be meeting and greeting people hours ago.”

  “I know,” I say. Roach wanted me to help Humans for Unity drum up some last-minute support, before the voting started in Black City.

  “Where’s Polly?” Natalie asks, looking about her.

  “She’s babysitting MJ. His back was hurting him too much to come out,” Day explains. “Besides, I don’t think she could face all these crowds. She’s having one of her bad days . . .”

  Natalie nods, understanding.

  “There you are, bro!” Beetle says, pushing his way toward us, followed by a thunderous-looking Roach.

  “You were told to be here hours ago,” Roach says to me. “How do you think it looks if Phoenix can’t even be bothered to show his fragging face?”

  “I’m really sorry,” I say.

  We’re soon met by my dad, Sumrina, Michael and Amy. Juno is on the stage with Stuart, filming the public vote in Black City. She’s
wearing her signature look—tight black leather pants and corseted white blouse, with heavy Cinderstone eyeliner rimming her pale blue eyes, while Stuart’s made less of an effort, wearing a faded patchwork tailcoat and brown suede slacks, his brown hair spiked up in its usual style. TV crews have been placed at all the polling stations across the city, but the one in the town square is getting the most focus, because of me.

  On top of the platform is a pair of large glass boxes, each two yards tall and wide, with a metal slot in the front of both boxes for people to post their ballot papers through. All the ballot slips have a microchip built into them, which contains your citizenship identification number, to prevent fraud. A computer, which is hooked up to the voting boxes, records this information as you drop your ballot slip into the box, and your vote instantly appears on the screen behind the stage. A sign above the box on the right says YES, and on the left, the sign reads NO.

  “How’s it going?” I ask the group.

  “Not too bad,” Amy says. “We lost the vote in the Plantation State, but it wasn’t by much.”

  The Plantation State was always going to be one of the hardest states to win over, because they rely on government contracts to sell their crops, so the fact that the vote was close is really encouraging.

  “The real surprise is the Dominion State,” Amy continues, pointing to the digital screen above Black City School.

  Currently the people of Centrum, in the Dominion State, are voting, and the screen is showing 8,476,802 YES; 6,098,156 NO. I do a double take, stunned by the numbers. I thought Centrum would vote almost entirely yes, given it’s the capital city and Purian Rose’s home turf.

  “Those numbers are great!” Natalie says.

  Beetle grins. “Yeah, and just imagine what they’ll be like for the cities that hate the Sentry.”

  No wonder Purian Rose paid me a visit yesterday. He must’ve known the vote was going to be tight. And it hits me: we could actually win this. I’d always hoped we could, but looking at those figures, that hope is becoming a reality. All I have to do is vote no to Rose’s Law, and my people could be spared from going to the Tenth.

  But then Natalie will die.

  My stomach clenches.

  Natalie or twenty million people.

  Who do I choose?

  “Bro, don’t make a scene,” Beetle suddenly says to me, peering over my shoulder.

  I turn, wondering what he means, and my fangs instantly flood with venom as I stare into the callous green eyes of Sebastian Eden. I take a protective step toward Natalie.

  “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d show up,” Sebastian says, looking pointedly from me to Natalie.

  “What, and miss the chance to humiliate Purian Rose on live television?” I say.

  “I would tread very carefully, nipper,” Sebastian says icily. “Don’t forget what’s at stake here.”

  “I haven’t,” I reply.

  A cruel smile breaks out on his lips. “Give my regards to Polly,” he says to Natalie, before walking onto the stage.

  “God, he’s such a jerk,” Natalie mutters, then turns to talk to Day.

  “What was he talking about?” Beetle whispers to me when she’s distracted.

  “Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” I reply.

  He presses his lips together, not believing me. Beetle knows me almost as well as Natalie does, so he can tell when I’m lying. To his credit, he doesn’t push it.

  On the digital screens the cameras cut back to SBN studios. Glamorous news presenter February Fields gives us a wide, glossy-lipped smile.

  “The final votes are in for the Dominion State.” We all stop talking and look at the screen. “The state votes in favor of Rose’s Law.”

  “Two-zero,” I mutter.

  “Don’t stress about it, mate.” Beetle claps a hand on my shoulder, making my scars sting. “We’re next. We’ll swing the vote back in our favor.”

  My neck muscles tense up. The time to make my decision is nearly upon me. I look up at Sigur, who is still watching the proceedings from the Boundary Wall. I can’t see the expression behind his mask, but his body language is stiff.

  Natalie or my people?

  The footage cuts to the town square in Black City.

  “Next up, Black River State,” February Fields announces. “First to vote will be Black City.”

  My stomach lurches. Showtime.

  Traditionally, the state capital votes first, mainly so the lesser cities in the state know how they’re meant to be voting. It’s an unspoken rule among the cities to do this, to show strength and unity in the state, although the lesser cities don’t always listen.

  The television cameras turn toward Sebastian, who stands primly on the stage next to the glass cubes. Behind him, a row of Sentry guards stand at attention, their guns locked and loaded. The message is clear: vote yes.

  Sebastian waves a hand, ushering the first voters up. Normally, the Emissary would vote first, but since Black River State doesn’t have an Emissary at the moment—no politician seems willing to take on that poisoned chalice—the citizens go straightaway.

  “Here we go,” Beetle says as Sally walks up to the stage, her black bustle dress dragging through the ash coating the cobblestones.

  The tension in my shoulders unwinds a little, knowing we’ve got her vote.

  Juno commentates live on camera. “The first brave citizen steps up to the podium, a vision in black—the color that has become synonymous with hope in this city,” she says, alluding to my Phoenix outfit. “After months of campaigning, it all comes down to these next few moments . . .”

  Sally’s face is projected on all the digital screens as she walks up to the voting boxes. She glances toward Sebastian, who is standing beside the NO box, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. She hurries over to the YES box and drops in her vote, then quickly returns to the crowd and drags her boys out of the town square.

  “I thought we could count on her vote,” Natalie whispers. “I guess we don’t know who to trust.”

  I look behind me. The two Sentry guards who were following us are still nearby, watching me.

  The next few dozen votes go like this, with people visibly shaking as they hurry to drop their ballot papers into the YES box. I look up at the screen: 48 YES; 0 NO.

  “Fragging hell,” Beetle mutters under his breath.

  “Hang on,” Natalie says.

  James and Hilary Madden from Firebird radio walk up the steps to the platform.

  I take a deep breath, and Natalie gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

  They fold their ballot papers and walk toward Sebastian. James flashes a look in our direction, and there’s a cold gleam in his eyes. In that moment, I know we’ve lost them. They veer to the right and drop their ballot slips into the YES box.

  Beetle swears loudly. “Those traitors. I bet they were the ones who stole our weapons! They should be hanged!”

  I swallow a hard lump in my throat. Will he want to hang me as well? I think Beetle’s suspicions are right, though. As prominent members of Humans for Unity, James and Hilary have full access to all areas of the Legion ghetto, including the weapons store. They defiantly walk down the steps, their heads held high.

  Beetle spits on James as he passes by, and the man turns, swinging a fist at Beetle, missing him by a hair’s breadth. It all happens so quickly: James and Beetle start fighting, throwing wild punches at each other. Day and Hilary try to pull them apart, but they get knocked to the ground as more people join the fray. Two people soon turn into twenty. Fists fly, and people are pushed and shoved. In the melee, James and Hilary manage to flee. Flashbacks to the riot two months ago crash into my mind. I can’t let this happen again! I rush onto the stage and grab Juno’s microphone.

  “STOP!” I yell at the top of my lungs.

  My voice reverberates
around the town square. Everyone is deathly silent. Thankfully, the fighting stops immediately.

  Thousands of faces stare up at me from the crowd, reminding me of the day I was crucified. My mouth suddenly feels dry, and I can almost taste the acacia fumes. Not now . . . I lick my dry lips, and start to speak.

  “We’re here to vote, not to fight,” I say. “Don’t resort to bloodshed and undermine what we’re trying to achieve today. The government may think it’s acceptable to intimidate us with their guns and their soldiers”—I slide a look at Sebastian, who glowers at me—“but that is not our way. We will not be governed by fear.”

  A lone voice calls out across the crowd. “No fear, no power!”

  The chant is picked up by another person, then another, just like on the day of my crucifixion. Soon the whole city is chanting, “NO FEAR, NO POWER!”

  I should be happy. This is exactly what the rebels wanted, but I can barely breathe. It’s precisely the thing Rose wanted to avoid. I’m meant to be showing my unwavering support of him. If I don’t . . . I glance from Natalie to the two guards standing a short distance behind her. They’re going to cut her up. There’s still a chance to make this right.

  I take out my ballot paper. Never has a slip of paper felt so heavy in my hand.

  I shut my eyes.

  Vote yes and save Natalie.

  Vote no and save twenty million people.

  My heart hammers. Everyone in the nation is watching me now, waiting to see what I’ll do, including Purian Rose.

  Natalie.

  Twenty million people.

  The girl I love.

  Twenty million people.

  There was never a choice.

  I slip my vote into the ballot box.

  “Ash Fisher votes no to Rose’s Law,” Juno reports to the camera.

  I look at Natalie down in the crowd, and my heart splinters into a million pieces. I’m so sorry.

  The rebels cheer, but I barely hear them as I sprint off the stage and grab her hand.

  “We need to leave the city,” I say to her in a rush.

  She raises a brow at me. “What? Now?”