The Scarlet Dagger (The Red Sector Chronicles, #1)

by Krystle Jones

  She nodded, eyes glazed over, and backed away from the bars as I pulled out my key ring. As I inserted the key – the one that had unlocked my cell – I bit my lip, hesitating. If I took her with me, she could slow me down, even get me caught. But looking at her, seeing how pitiful she was, I couldn’t bring myself to simply leave her here to die.

  I twisted the key and the padlock fell open. Pulling the door aside, I gently reached in as her face swiveled into shock and she opened her mouth to scream.

  “No, no. It’s okay,” I said quickly, ducking in front of her and locking gazes. “I’m here to help you.” I brushed a few damp strands of hair back from her face and she started to calm down, the fog returning to her eyes.

  In my head, I raced through my options. I couldn’t very well walk backwards down the hall while I kept eye contact with her. For this to work out for either of us, I was going to have to try something else.

  Keeping a firm grasp on the connection, I broke her gaze, feeling the rope of her thoughts and emotions in the back of my mind. Clasping her hand in mine, I led her from the cell into the hall. As an afterthought, I found a pair of cuffs along one of my belt loops and fastened those around the girl’s wrists. I leaned toward her. “Now don’t make a sound, and come quietly,” I ordered gently.

  She nodded, and I nervously began leading her down the hall, one hand firmly on her shoulder. My attention was split, with half my concentration focused on keeping hold of our connection, but I managed to lead us up a set of stairs and into the next wing. It was too quiet here, with closed doors stretching out on the walls to either side.

  This hall looked different, as if frequented often. It was more welcoming though still a bit shoddy, with wooden floors that had an old green rug running up the middle of the hall. The walls had been painted white, and simple white-shaded lamps dotted the spaces between the doors, giving it a “homey” feel. My eyes lifted, and I froze.

  There, at the end of the hall, was a very visible EXIT sign.

  My heart sped up as I quickened our pace, pushing the little girl along. She stumbled once and I had to catch her, nearly breaking the connection and giving my heart a little start, but I quickly recovered and we resumed walking. The door, like the entrance to the Promised Land, was only a few precious feet away.

  Almost there. Keep walking. Stay calm, stay calm.

  Behind us, a door opened and closed.

  “What’s she doing up here?”

  Chapter 6

  I cringed at the girl’s voice, swearing under my breath. I could run, but she would surely notify security. Maybe I could subdue her long enough to get the child out, or possibly hypnotize her, but I knew I couldn’t sustain two connections at once. I was having a hard enough time holding on to one.

  “Hel-lo?” the girl called, clearly annoyed. “Are you deaf? I just asked you a question.”

  I bristled at her haughty tone. Bracing myself, I turned around.

  She looked sort of how I expected, like a Barbie doll shoved into a military outfit. Her skin was all dark chocolate, and her sleek, brown hair was highlighted with blond streaks that hung in big barrel curls past her shoulders. A pair of gold hoop earrings shone beneath her hair, and a white lab coat – much like Paris’ – hung loosely around her body, with a blood red cross stamped on her right shoulder. Beneath the lab coat, I made out a white uniform similar in make to the one I wore, with a skirt and tall, knee-length boots. Around her neck was a stethoscope, and although her face bore a suspicious glare, I had to admit she was very pretty. A name badge was clipped to her coat pocket, and I barely made out the name DEZYRE DRAKE.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Drake,” I said as politely as I could manage. “I must not have heard you the first time.”

  “Obviously.” Dezyre cocked her hip, placing a hand on it. “And it’s Doctor Drake, moron.”

  I looked her up and down, not impressed. “You look a little young to be a doctor.”

  She siphoned in a tight breath, outrage burning through her doll-like features. “Age is irrelevant. In six more months, I’ll be certified, the youngest doctor on staff.” She studied me. “You don’t look familiar. Not that I have any reason to pay attention to security guards.” She spit out the last two words as if she was talking about cockroaches. “And you didn’t tell me where you’re taking Ms. Bryant.”

  I looked at the little girl, as placid as a lake on a spring day. “I’m taking her in for her check-ups,” I lied, hoping it sounded convincing.

  Dezyre narrowed her eyes. “We don’t bring the patients up here. The nursing staff goes to them.” She took a step toward me. “I’m not sure you know what you’re doing, Sergeant” – she glanced at my name badge – “Black.” She checked my sleeve, which had two silver chevrons. “For someone of your experience, I’d think you’d at least have it straight by now.”

  I glanced at her chevrons. She had three and they were all gold. It must mean something significant, and I made a mental note to look into it later.

  “I might have to report you to Captain Knight,” she said, her magenta-glossed lips curling into a devilish smile. “I don’t like dealing with idiots.”

  “And I don’t do well with being bullied,” I said, standing straighter. I rose a little over two inches above her, and she pressed her lips into a hard, thin line. “Normally, I’m not the type to judge, but you don’t exactly look like you could hold your own in a dark alley, if you get my meaning.”

  Her mouth gaped open. “Is that a threat?” she hissed.

  “Only if you want it to be.” My patience with Dezyre was quickly giving way to anger, and if I snapped, I didn’t know if I’d be able to hold on to my connection with the girl.

  “Ah, there you are,” said a deep voice. My face paled as Aden strolled up, coming to stand between us. He gave me a strained smile. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Sergeant Black.”

  I kept my face composed and nodded. “Captain Knight.”

  My gaze dropped to the floor as my nerves twitched. Would he call me out for who I really was? For that matter, for what I really was? I’m sure the base would go on lockdown if they knew a hunter was freely roaming the grounds.

  Aden acted completely nonplussed. “Ms. Drake,” he said, and I suppressed a laugh at Dezyre’s indignant glare at not being addressed as “Doctor Drake.” “I apologize, but it seems there’s been a slight misunderstanding in our young ward’s schedule.” He patted the little girl on the back, and I reluctantly let him pry her from my grasp and hand her over to Dezyre. “Would you mind escorting Ms. Bryant back to her room?”

  My eyes widened. No! You can’t take her back down there! Can’t you see you’re killing her? She’s just a child!

  Despite my warring conscience, I stayed firmly rooted to my spot.

  “I’ll have a word with Sergeant Black,” Aden added, giving her a bright smile.

  Dezyre faltered, her eyes growing wistful as she stared back at Aden, and for a moment I thought she might protest. But she nodded and turned, guiding the little girl back the way we came. I tried to hold on to the connection, but the second the door closed the mental rope snapped, severing it. Within seconds, her screams ripped through the air.

  I started forward when Aden seized me by the arm and swung me back around. “Oh no, you don’t,” he said, pulling me to him.

  I rounded on him with a glare. “She needs help! You can’t just leave her down there!”

  “You’re the one who’s about to need help.” He glanced around, making sure we were alone, before hissing, “What are you doing here? When surveillance told me Sergeant Black was behaving strangely, I didn’t think you’d actually try to run again, not after what happened last time.”

  So there are cameras around here. I just can’t see them. I fidgeted under his glare, not meeting his eyes. “I…” Excuses ran through my head, and I finally settled on one that wasn’t a total lie. “I got bored.”

  He blinked. “Bored?”

  I nod
ded. “You try being in the same room for days on end, and see how well you adapt.”

  Aden studied me. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. “How did you escape?” he asked.

  I bit my lip. “I’m not entirely sure. I hypnotized the guard, I think.”

  He cocked a thin, white brow. “You glamoured a guard?”

  “… yeah?”

  This time, both brows rose. “Glamour is a skill that takes years to master. It’s hard enough glamouring a human, but a vampire, too?” He shook his head and whistled low. “How the hell did a girl who’s been a vampire for less than two weeks pull that stunt off?”

  “I don’t know how I did it. It just kind of… happened.” I thought of the rope of emotions, how I had latched on to it with my mind, and decided to keep that part out. The pale, malnourished face of the girl floated across my memory like a ghost, and my eyes sharpened with fury. “Why are you holding that little girl prisoner?”

  Aden seemed unaffected by my anger. “Exploring a lead,” he said wistfully.

  My mouth opened to reprimand him on her appalling living conditions when he began leading me down the hall, in the direction of the cells. “Come on. We should sort this mess out before the authorities begin to suspect something’s up.”

  “No!” I dug my heels in, pulling against his grip, and he stopped. I searched for the connection, but he had a fairly solid wall up, guarding his emotions. But not so strong that I didn’t detect the faint strand of sympathy and regret, both linked to his memory of turning me. Maybe… just maybe if I could earn his trust, I could roam free and find a way out of here so I could warn Leo and my mother.

  And maybe I can save that little girl. It made my insides cold, knowing she was being taken back to that awful cell.

  “Please,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut and drawing on his emotions. “Don’t make me go back there.”

  Aden tensed, his sense of duty warring with his feelings toward me as I whispered, “All I can think about is my brother. Please, don’t leave me all alone in there again.”

  He chewed on his lip, and the silence grew thick as I waited for him to answer. My stomach groaned, loud and obnoxious, and Aden smiled.

  “Even if I wasn’t a vampire, I would’ve heard that,” he said. Though anxiety still radiated off of him, his shoulders slacked with resignation and I knew I had won.

  He sighed. “Come on. Let’s get you some real food. But then I’m taking you back to your cell.”

  I forced myself to smile, feeling slightly pleased with my performance.

  “Whatever you say, Captain.”

  ***

  The base was tiered, like an inverted pyramid, and larger than I had originally thought. Upon our agreement, Aden had spun in the opposite direction, turned a corner, and began ascending a stairwell I hadn’t noticed. A sign detailing the best evacuation routes for each level was tacked next to the door, and I paused, trying to memorize it. I always had a decent memory, nearly photographic.

  The lowest (and smallest) level held the prison block; the next, the medical laboratories; the third was the hospital wing I first awoke in; the fourth housed the training academy level, and judging from the graph, it was massive. The fifth and final level held no labels.

  “What’s on the top floor?” I asked, my voice reverberating around the cement stairwell.

  Aden paused on the stairs, eyes sparkling with mischief. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

  Too late. You’ve sort of already done that. I shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “Just curious.”

  He rolled up his sleeve – I noticed the bandage on his hand was gone, revealing a thin strip of shiny new skin where the Scarlet Dagger had cut him – and checked his watch. “It’s nearly noon. Come. I only have about a half hour window to eat before the cell block shifts switch out.”

  He started back up the stairs, and this time I followed.

  At about the fourth landing, we stepped through a door that read 4: Training Academy. I could feel Aden’s precaution ease up as he decided I wasn’t going to bolt for it, and I took the opportunity to pepper our conversation with questions about the facility, trying to collect as much information as I could. Each answer of his was vague, as I could have probably figured it out for myself by simply observing my surroundings.

  “The academy level serves as the training grounds for our soldiers,” he explained. “But we also house a lot of civilians who help run the base, like nursing staff, electricians… those sorts of jobs.”

  Black tiled floors shone beneath me as I followed Aden into a sparsely populated corridor. Every person, I noticed, wore the same black uniform as Aden, only the girls wore black skirts and tall boots instead of pants. Some of the uniforms were red; others white. I did notice that the white uniforms all had a red cross on their right jacket shoulder. All of the military personnel wore at least one gold, silver, or bronze chevron on their right sleeves.

  “What’s up with the different colored uniforms?” I asked.

  “Black,” Aden said, pulling at his own sleeve, “is for the soldiers. Our medical staff wears white, while our technical staff wears red. Color coding is mostly to help the new recruits quickly distinguish a person’s rank and position. And if you’ll notice –” he pointed to an older man talking to a teenage girl, both wearing white – “the medical staff all wear crosses on their sleeves, with the certified doctors bearing a caduceus.”

  I remembered reading something about the caduceus – the winged staff of the god Hermes – back in my freshman literature class. It had been a symbol for healing and medicine for many years, and was later adopted by the U.S. Army to represent their medical corps.

  “And the chevrons?” I asked.

  “They go by rank and years of experience. Obviously, the more chevrons you have, the higher your rank, with bronze marking you as a newbie. If you make it through your first year, you advance to silver, and then it’s a five year stretch before you get to gold.”

  I took in the three gold chevrons on Aden’s sleeve. “Then you must have been a vampire for, what, a decade or so?”

  He looked at me sidelong, smiling slyly. “Maybe. Or perhaps I’m just really good at what I do.”

  A few heads turned, all teenage males, but for the most part no one paid me any attention. I wondered if I should be worried about someone recognizing me (if Aden and Paris said they knew me from the media, than why shouldn’t other vampires know my face?), but nobody showed any sign of recognition when they gave me the “once over.”

  The tension in my shoulders eased a little. Maybe I’m not as famous as I thought.

  Whenever Aden passed someone in a black uniform, they would turn and salute, and he would nod at them before they returned to whatever it was they were doing.

  As we walked, the interior curiously shifted. This part of the base was fairly pretty and surprisingly stylish for a military outfit. The walls were a deep brown, with gold-gilded lamps hanging from the spackled ceiling. The heels of our boots clicked along polished marble floors of swirling caramel and cream.

  “Stay close,” Aden said, and I jogged a bit to catch up as he turned a corner. He walked straight toward a set of double doors – a plaque that read MESS HALL hung beside them – and opened one, spilling noise into the hall and motioning me inside.

  I walked through, muttering “thank you” for the held door, and found myself standing in what appeared to be a fancy, restaurant-style cafeteria. Polished black booths and tables – all lined in red cushioning – were set up around the circular room. Several cash registers and buffets were situated on my right. It was pretty packed, and everyone was chatting and relaxing while enjoying their meals together. It looked like any other cafeteria I’d ever been in, only more nicely furnished.

  Aden turned to face me, and discreetly unpinned my name badge, slipping it into his pants pocket. “Better for you to remain Jane Doe for this interaction,” he said quietly. “Let me do the talking. This way.” He
directed me to a corner booth, where a pixie petite girl with peach-colored skin and curly blond hair pulled up in pigtails sat talking to a tall, muscular man with a bulky frame and dark skin. He had his back to me; I couldn’t see his face, only that he had long hair tied back into several long, thick braids. The girl had on a red uniform, so I knew she was some sort of technical staff, while the boy was clearly marked a soldier by his black outfit.

  Aden’s right. Color coding does help. At least I now know which ones will pose the greatest threat.

  The girl slurped on her soda can, babbling excitedly to her friend each time she took a breath. His broad shoulders shook with laughter as she made a funny face, emphasizing whatever point she had been making with quick hand gestures. Watching her, I wondered how someone could possess that much energy. It seemed exhausting.