Dissension 1

by Katie Salidas

  They passed through a large corridor of prison cells before finally reaching Mira’s, a small six-by-eight-foot cage of silver-coated steel bars with an automatically locking doorway. Her door, marked number 8254-A, was locked via an electronic keypad. Mira casually glanced over, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, as they entered the ten-digit access code on the keypad. 753951…

  The butt of a UV torch connected with the back of her head. A lightning fast jolt of pain had Mira hissing through gritted teeth.

  “Eyes forward, slave,” the female handler ordered.

  Instinct more than anger drove Mira to turn on her handler. The fresh throbbing in her head mixed with frantic energy from her recent feed. Mira snarled, fangs bared, ready to strike, and advanced on the female handler.

  Gone was the stony expression on the human woman’s face. Fear widened her eyes. Realization. Complete understanding of what a vampire is capable of, especially a formidable arena gladiator who’d just fed…

  “Stand down, vampire.” The human woman tried to put authority into her voice, but her fear was clear, and Mira wasn’t in the mood to take orders.

  With little effort, Mira snapped apart the silver shackles and grabbed hold of her handler’s neck. Ready to squeeze the human woman like a bug, Mira tightened her grip, choking off the handler’s air supply as she forced her backwards onto the silver-coated cell bars.

  Alarms sounded all around her. The other handler turned on his UV light and shined it in Mira’s face. She closed her eyes against the sting but refused to let go. Fangs still bared, she bit blindly at her handler, enjoying the terrified screams, savoring the delicious tremors running through the human’s weak body.

  An army of heavy-footed steps flooded the corridor. More handlers were arriving. Mira had shaken up the hornets’ nest this time. The taste of the handler’s fresh blood would not be worth the punishment they’d deliver if she killed the human. Just as she was ready to release her prey, the entire cell block flooded with light. In a fraction of a second, Mira’s skin felt as if it had gone up in flames. She, however, was not the only one to suffer. Other vampires peacefully lounging in their cells began to howl in pain as the dreadful light filled every inch of space.

  Her whole body on fire, Mira released her prey and balled herself up, trying to hide in the small shadows created by those standing around her.

  Something hard connected with Mira’s head. She blacked out for the briefest of moments, which was all the humans needed to shove her into her cell and slam the door shut. Once secured, the lights went out and an eerie silence replaced the previous chaos.

  “Try that again, you fucking leech, and we’ll see you staked out in the morning sun,” the male handler spat at her. He held tight to his compatriot, inspecting her Kevlar suit for any signs of damage.

  Skin crispy, flaking off of her body, there wasn’t an inch of Mira that didn’t hurt; yet still she managed to laugh. “Come in here and say that, big man.”

  The male handler, having finished his once-over of his partner, turned his UV torch on Mira in response.

  Already at the limits of what she could feel, Mira continued to laugh through the burning blast of light.

  “She’s fucking crazy,” the female handler yelled over Mira’s cackling laughter.

  The male handler nodded stiffly and clicked off his torch. “What do you expect, she’s a leech.”

  “Yeah, because humans are so sane,” Mira retorted. Though she tried to sound cocky, she couldn’t hide the edge of pain in her voice. There was not an inch of her body that was not raw and angry at that moment.

  “Don’t let her taunt you. File an incident report on that crazy leech, and she’ll get what’s coming to her.” The voices trailed off.

  Mira stared up at the ceiling. The coolness of the concrete floor was a small comfort to her searing skin. Her wounds were already beginning to heal, thanks to the blood she’d been able to drink in battle, but Mira knew that was the last she’d taste for a while. No doubt the handlers would report her to her Owner, and she’d be given some archaic punishment for her crimes. Even in their heyday, vampires had never been as cruel as the humans now were to them. Some deserved death, sure, but the rest just wanted to live their eternity in comfort and peace.

  “Good job, Mira,” George, a male vampire in the adjacent cell groaned. “Did we all need to suffer for your midnight snack?”

  Mira huffed in frustration, at war with herself over what she’d just done. Part of her felt guilty for what the other vampires had endured because of her actions, but another part was not going to stand by idly while the humans attacked her for no reason. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have the balls to try it yourself.”

  “I’m not that stupid.” George’s dark bald head appeared at the bars. Though he sounded angry, none of it showed in his concerned expression. “This is a maximum security facility. There are cameras, monitors, sensors. Face it, honey, we’re stuck in here until the day we die.”

  “Well, as I recall, you were the one doing the fucking last night. You were gone more than five hours.” Her muscles protested every movement, but Mira slowly rolled over on to her stomach and gingerly pushed herself up to her knees. She was healing, but not quickly enough for her liking. “Is it true? Did you get a new Patron?”

  “I know how to play the game.” A cocky smile replaced the look of concern. George flashed her his perfectly white, perfectly sharp teeth. Tall, well-built, dark skinned-for a vampire – and that beautiful bald head human women seemed to just adore. That man knew his strengths; he was a handsome devil who flaunted it every chance he got, and it worked wonders. He hadn’t been in the arena for well over a month, too busy with his ever-growing list of admirers. “Yep. Got myself a hot vein and a little free time. Which is more than most of us can hope for.”

  “Well, have fun being a human’s play toy,” she grumbled. Jealousy burned in Mira’s gut. She may not have been a traditional beauty, but she was the best fighter in the place, and she’d never attracted a Patron. Fresh blood. Small comforts. The ability to leave your cell, even if it was only to service your Patron. Those were luxuries she’d never been afforded. George was a pretty face, he wasn’t even that great a fighter, and somehow he had managed to get Patrons lining up around the building for a few moments of his service.

  “Oh, I will. Beats the punishment you’re about to endure.”

  Mira lifted her head just enough to see a pair of expensive heels walking down the way toward her cell. She knew the familiar clip-clop of her Owner’s stilettos. Damn. She’d hoped it would be a little while longer before her Owner had gotten wind of Mira’s disobedience.

  Speaking of traditional beauties… her Owner, a former runway model and a pretty little princess in her own right, seethed with anger as she approached the cell. Mira didn’t need to look up to know the deep hazel eyes of Olivia Preston were staring down at her through impossibly long and thick eyelashes. Her perfectly pink lip would be curled upward in a dangerous sneer. Olivia was the worst kind of Owner Mira could have landed: beautiful, spoiled, and self-important. “Stand up, slave. Show your master some respect!”

  Respect. The woman didn’t know the meaning of the word. Olivia Preston was well known for treating everyone — vampire and human alike — as if they were her things. Try as she might, Mira could hardly hold back her contempt for the pampered little princess. “The fact that I haven’t attempted to rip your throat out is a show of respect all its own.”

  Unaffected by Mira’s threat, Olivia continued to stare down the imprisoned vampire. “If you weren’t such a damn good fighter, I’d have you put down like the dog you are.”

  “I should be so lucky.”

  Olivia wouldn’t follow through with that threat; Mira knew that, though she could do many worse things. She wouldn’t kill her prize fighter. The money Mira earned her for all the battles she’d won had paid for every piece of expensive clothing she wore, all the way down to her ga
udy, gem-encrusted heels.

  “I had come here to congratulate you on your win today…”

  Mira waited in silence, refusing to look up at her Owner, who was impatiently tapping her heels on the concrete ground. She knew there was nothing at the end of that sentence that she really wanted to hear.

  Olivia’s foot came to rest. “…Instead, I get a report you attacked your handler.”

  “She threw the first punch.” Mira laughed. “Too bad she couldn’t back it up.” She shouldn’t have said it, but couldn’t hold her tongue.

  “This was meant to be your reward.”

  Mira had to look up this time to see just what her Owner was holding.

  Clutched in her pale pink claws, was a small vial with red liquid inside.

  Instinctively, Mira began to salivate. Blood. As much as she enjoyed disrespecting her Owner, this might not have been the best time to do it.

  Recognition flashed in Olivia’s hazel eyes. “Yes. Now I have your attention, don’t I?

  She dropped the small vial to the ground, where it shattered.

  The sweet scent of that crimson liquid wafted up to Mira’s nose. Such a terrible waste. It almost brought a tear to her eyes. If she hadn’t already fed today, she’d probably have licked it off the floor, shards of glass and all. Other vampires in the area had caught wind of the smell too, and they whined and begged for a small taste.

  Olivia sneered at Mira. “You need an attitude adjustment. You want to smart off and be disrespectful to me… you’ll pay for it.”

  Here it comes: the punishment. There was nothing for her to say; she’d already said enough to piss off her Owner.

  “Forty-eight hours in the lightbox. No blood after. Perhaps that will teach you a little respect.” She turned on her heel and stormed away.

  “Respect. Ha! I haven’t learned it yet. And you haven’t earned it,” Mira shouted back to her Owner. She was already in for the worst punishment possible – might as well get in a final jab while she could.

  “Damn, girl.” George whistled. “Humans do love a tan, but you’re going to be one crispy thing after forty-eight hours.”

  Mira had no reply. He spoke the truth. The lightbox was truly the worst kind of punishment a vampire could be given. Intermittent flashes of light just long enough to burn but not long enough to kill. It was with methods like this that the humans had enslaved her kind. One weakness was all they needed to exploit. Humans grossly outnumbered vampires, and with this one weakness, they had brought the vampire nation to its knees.

  Chapter 3

  Two days of pure hell inside that tiny metal box had fried more than Mira’s skin. Anger boiled over inside her. At that moment she hated humans and everything about them. Worst of all, she hated the fact she had once been a human. To have anything in common with those savage inhumane beasts was an outrage. Weak and exhausted, Mira needed blood so badly she could barely walk, a fact that had her handlers noticeably on edge. A starving vampire could snap at any moment’s time. Taking extra precautions, they used the thickest silver coated chains and cuffs possible. She’d also been fitted with a ball gag for the trek back to her cell. Even with the additional precautions, Mira could tell the female handler was nervous. There was no mistaking the tang of fear in the air. Still, though she was clearly still concerned about Mira’s temperament, the female handler did not hold back her contempt as she roughly pulled Mira’s lumbering and aching body towards the cell.

  Just the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other was a laborious task. Every movement hurt, every muscle ached; her skin, burnt and raw, pulled and ripped with each movement. Wanting nothing more than a few moments of darkness and peace, Mira found the strength to lift her gaze long enough to watch the male handler’s fingers nimbly tap the ten digit code into the lock pad. 95182… Before she could spy the last few numbers, her handler shifted his body in front, blocking her view. The pattern seemed simple enough that she might guess the next few numbers. When she was healthy enough, she’d try it. For now, she could barely hold herself upright. A rarity for her, Mira didn’t even move as they undid her bonds. She welcomed their removal. One less pain in the sea of agony she was swimming in.

  Like a sack of garbage, Mira was tossed down on the cold concrete floor. She hissed as her head came crashing down against the unyielding ground. Stars danced in her vision. They slammed the cell door shut behind her. The echo of the bars clanging together added to the sharpness of her aching head.

  Every inch of Mira was raw and exposed. Her burned skin cracked and peeled. Nerves on edge, even the slightest flicker from the overhead lamp caused her to jump.

  Damn them. Fucking humans.

  “How was the tanning salon?” George taunted.

  She was in no mood for his playful jabs, and feared opening her mouth because there was no telling what manner of verbal bile she might accidentally spew in his direction. Times like this, there was only one thing to soothe Mira’s vicious spirit. She needed blood. Fast. Problem was, Mira couldn’t remember if she’d stashed the last of her rations, or if she’d been too gluttonous the last time she’d been punished. Rations, even for her, a prize fighter, were few and far between. Every tiny drop was coveted, and occasionally, she overindulged. Mira hoped there would be something left over. Who knew when she’d be allowed to feed again? And in her current state, she was this close to losing all control.

  “Seriously, girl, you all right?” All humor had left George’s voice.

  “Blood,” Mira rasped, still trying to summon the energy to check her hiding spot, a small pocket she’d created inside her mattress sitting on the floor.

  George’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I got you, girl. Just give me a minute.”

  Not sure what he meant, Mira grunted, neither in agreement nor protest. Using all of her remaining energy, she rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, enjoying this brief moment of peace. In the cell next to hers, Mira heard George rumbling around in his cell.

  “Had a little something stored up for a rainy day,” he whispered, and Mira’s mood lightened.

  George to the rescue. As much as she was jealous of him for the easy lifestyle he had in comparison to hers, she was glad to count him as a friend. He had a good heart, offering to share his blood rations with her. That quality was extremely rare among the other vampires. Caged as they all were, most had reverted to animalistic creatures, embodying the savage image the humans wanted everyone to believe rather than remaining the once-proud vampires they had been. They’d just as easily kill you for the practice.

  George tapped on the cell bars. Mira’s eyes opened and she zeroed in on the small thing clutched in his hands.

  “I’m going to roll it between the bars. You think you can grab it?”

  Mira groaned in assent. She barely had the energy to keep her eyes open. Moving, rolling, anything involving actual muscles seemed almost impossible, but for blood, she’d have to try. She turned her head toward his cell and watched as he bent down low and released a small red vial. Salivating as if it were the last supper, she followed with her eyes as the small glass tube rolled toward her.

  George stood and turned back to his mattress. “It’s not much, but it will help.”

  With all her might, muscles screaming, she threw herself over, rolling on top of the vial as it came toward her. Not wanting any cameras to spot her with it, she rested her body over the small vial. Gingerly, she moved, every motion pulling away loose scales of burned flesh. The full-body pain was beyond measure, but still she pressed on, lifting her arm, moving her hand over the vial. Still hovering over it, she unscrewed the cap and palmed it her hand. The scent of it was intoxicating, even stale as it was. The moment the scent hit her nose, it was all she could think of. Pretending to have a coughing fit, Mira brought the vial to her lips. The first drop of old rat’s blood hit her tongue. Thick and gelatinous as it was, it still tasted like heaven. Her parched throat burned for more, but after only a few mouthfuls the tiny vial w
as empty.

  The effect was immediate: Her skin began to tingle, and wounds started to knit themselves together. Healing had always been a vampire’s best gift. Given just a little blood, the renewal and repair happened within minutes. Raw, angry burns cooled and the pain slowly receded from her head. Looking more like her old self, but still not quite feeling it, Mira attempted very clumsily to stand. She was too wobbly to make it the first time, but at least her voice had returned.

  “Thanks,” she said earnestly to George. His act of kindness would not go unrewarded. She’d make sure of that somehow.

  “I’m just glad to help a fellow vamp out. We got to stick together.” George waved a dismissive hand and relaxed back onto his mattress. “You’d have done the same for me, girl.”

  “Probably.”

  “Oh, don’t act all tough. I know you got my back.” George’s playful tone had returned now that it appeared everything was okay with Mira.

  Testing her legs, Mira attempted again to stand, but her muscles had not yet regained their strength, and she collapsed back on the ground.

  “Take it easy, girl.” George propped himself up on his elbows and stared into Mira’s cell. Their eyes met for a moment while Mira struggled to move. “You don’t have to always be so tough.”