“I wasn’t aware I had a choice.”
“Your natural voice isn’t a hoarse whisper. The attack damaged your vocal chords too, didn’t it?”
She nodded again. “Do you think you can really help me?”
He almost winced at the soft lilt of hope in her voice. “I’ll do the best I can with the herbs we have in the city.”
“It’s not much, is it?” Her breath shuddered out of her. “Lucas told me about the limited herbs you have here. I’m not surprised. We tried to salvage as many plant and animal species as we could, but I don’t think we managed to save more than fifteen percent of them. We have seeds and embryos stored in the ark as well.”
“You have seeds of plants? Other than those growing in the city?”
Siri nodded again.
His smile flashed. “That’s fantastic. Do you know if you have—?”
She laughed. “It’s been a thousand years since I reviewed the list. I could probably recite it and get ninety-five percent right, but you’d probably be more comfortable reviewing the list in person if you came up to the tower.”
His chest tightened. “The tower?”
Siri pressed her lips together. She looked pained. Only then did he realize that he had retreated several steps until he hit the wall. She swallowed hard; the horrific neck wound shifted with the motion, causing her to wince. “We’re not monsters, Rafael.”
“I know.” The reply was automatic, but he did not believe it.
“You were willing to help me.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “Yes, but—” But I never thought it would require going back to the tower, to the ark, where Stefan is.
“We would like you to represent the humans on our council.”
“Council?”
“Ashra rules Aeternae Noctis. The council advises her and executes her commands.” Siri’s upper lip tugged into a half-smile. “Things were easier when we governed the city through fear and terror, but now, in the spirit of cooperation—”
“I can’t represent the city.”
“You’re the best person for it. The people respect you, and you know what’s going on in the city—”
“I know their health problems. I know if someone has gout, an aching tooth, or a persistent headache. None of that gives me any insight into their thoughts or feelings. I can’t do this.” He turned away.
“You’re not afraid of the icrathari or the vampires, so why are you retreating?”
“I…” His glance flicked toward Stefan’s abandoned bedroom. The house was quiet without his son; the rooms were painfully empty. “I can’t go back to the tower.”
Siri’s gaze followed his. “Oh…”
The gentleness in her voice grated on him. Where was that sympathy when he led his only son into the tower? When he told Stefan his final bedtime story? Where was that empathy when he stepped back from the glass tube, his vision blurred with tears, and watched as his son’s body stiffened from the cryogenic freezing process, his last breath frozen upon those lips that had kissed Rafael goodnight? Where was that compassion when life was routinely, perfunctorily extinguished in the child he cherished?
To Rafael, Stefan had been a child bursting with laughter and love, generous with hugs and kisses, uncomplaining of his weakness, always hopeful for the future.
But to the Night Terrors, Stefan was no more than a line in a list of names, a data point that had not met the minimum quality standards, and was therefore eliminated.
Rafael’s breath shuddered. “I can’t help you.”
“But you said—”
“I know why the Night Terrors take the children, but it shatters our families; it destroys us. You want me to stand in the council and condone your actions? I can’t do that. I can’t help you.”
Hurt ripped through her eyes.
The matching ache in his heart startled him. “This isn’t about the healing salve. I’ll do everything I can for you, but I can’t and won’t support the Night Terrors.”
A slight frown furrowed her brow. “That’s a subtle distinction.”
“An important one.”
“I can see that.” She sighed. “Is there anything I can say or do to convince you to be a part of the council?”
My son. I want my son back.
He swallowed his desperate need. “Expand the settlement. Find a way to release the children, all of them.”
Siri’s gaze jerked up to him. Her lips moved soundlessly before she found her voice. “Heal me.”
“What?”
“Find a way to heal me completely, and I will return to you your son, and to the people, their children.”
Their eyes met, the room silent save for the crackle of flames. Doubt frayed his nerves. Could he, with his limited resources, heal her? What was the penalty for trying and failing?
His heart and mind flicked to his child cocooned in a glass coffin. He’s sleeping, not dead, but only if I can change his destiny. A muscle twitched in Rafael’s smooth cheek. “I accept. Your life for all of theirs.”
Siri remained as still as a statue, yet he was certain she had flinched at the brusqueness of his tone. Finally, she nodded. The slight incline of her head sealed the bargain.
In silence, Rafael watched her leave, an angelic figure framed by demon’s wings. He had made a compact with an angel or a demon; he was not certain which. Who had gotten the better end of the deal?
Rafael’s work on Siri’s healing salve kept him occupied through the long and lonely days and nights. He toiled in the kitchen, sparing occasional glances at Stefan’s empty bedroom. Often he paused as the ghostly memory of his son’s laughter echoed through the cottage. It was easy, during the day, to get lost in the illusion that Stefan was out in the garden or the forest, hard at play, that he would be home in hours, tired and dirty, wearing a wide grin on his face.
Thus, Rafael welcomed the mental concentration and hours of work that Siri’s new medicine demanded. Weeks passed before he felt certain enough of the salve he had prepared. He glanced out the open window as he sealed the jar. The moon shone, bright and full, over Aeternae Noctis.
A full month had gone by, but Stefan’s loss ached as much as it had the first night.
Rafael stifled a sigh as he packed two jars of salve into a small basket and included a note with written instructions. Although Siri had not said as much, he sensed that her injury was not common knowledge among the Night Terrors. Her secret was safe with him, he reflected as he covered the jars with fresh-cut flowers.
He knew of no way to get the medicine to her, short of going up to the tower or waiting in the city square for the announcement of the names of the children who were to be culled.
Siri, however, did not appear in the city square. Instead, Jaden Hunter, the elder vampire who had been human only seven months earlier, showed up with the list. That night, fifty-eight children were named.
Rafael lingered on the outer edge of the crowd, watching in silence as fifty-eight families shattered. He knew all those children too. He had prescribed essential oils for rashes and colic, had mixed herbal brews to ease fevers, and had watched the children and their parents respond with gratitude.
All that care, that love, for naught.
He ground his teeth. Each night of the full moon would be a reopening of the wound, a fresh surge of heartache, a reminder of how he had lost Stefan. Silently, he cursed the Night Terrors and looked up at Jaden who stood at the top of the steps, in front of the cathedral. Many tear-streaked faces stared expectantly at the elder vampire. Jaden had been human once. Surely, he would be even kinder than the icrathari had been the prior month.
Shadows shifted beneath the glow of the moon as vampires stepped forward to surround the crowd. A flicker of emotion—too quick to discern—passed over Jaden’s face. His voice revealed none of his emotions. “Turn your children over to us now.”
“What?” Hans, the village grocer, exclaimed. He wrapped his arms protectively around his young daughter. “No, no.
You must let us say goodbye.”
“Say your goodbyes here.”
“We will say our goodbyes in the ark.” Hans’s voice raised several notches. Other men arranged themselves around him. Their hands tightened around the hilts of the swords and the handles of the axes they carried.
Jaden’s eyes narrowed into emerald slits. “Careful, Hans. I can distinguish between grief and anger in your accelerated heartbeat, and right now, your anger far exceeds your grief. I can smell the alarm pheromones on your skin. I am not a fool. I sympathize with the loss of your children, but I will not tolerate rebellion. You shouldn’t either, not when it will cost you far more than it will cost us.”
A babble of outraged voices drowned out the quiet sobs of the children. “Who the hell do you think you are? You’re a goddamned traitor—”
Jaden twisted aside in a precise and fluid movement. An arrow arced past him, an inch from his skin, and sank into the ten-foot-tall cathedral door. The line of his jaw hardened. He made a forward gesture with his hand. At his command, vampires lunged, sweeping through the crowd, tearing children from the arms of their parents.
Swords and axes in the hands of poorly trained villagers could do little against the preternatural speed and agility of the vampires, but the people fought anyway, often with nothing but their fists. Shouted curses became screams of desperation.
An icrathari in flight sliced across the glow of the moon. Like a banner of war, its shadow unfurled across the cobblestone streets.
People looked up, their eyes wide and faces pale. A mouse chittered, the sound audible in the otherwise silent city square. Overhead, the powerful beat of wings grew louder as the icrathari spiraled down toward Jaden.
With a vast groan, the mob broke and fled.
Teeth gritted, Rafael fought to hold his ground against the rush of humanity scrambling away from the impending approach of the icrathari. He tightened his grip on the basket of flowers and took shelter in a doorway until the square cleared of people.
As simply as that, the rebellion was over.
Jaden nodded to the vampires who carried the trembling children. “Take them into the tower.” His sigh sounded exasperated, but his voice betrayed sorrow beneath the façade of absolute control.
A female vampire with a long red braid stalked toward Jaden, dragging a pale-faced man by his ankles. “This is the man who shot at you.” With a snort of disgust, she dropped his feet to the pavement. “Shall I kill him?”
“No. There is more fear than hate in him. Let him go.”
The vampire rolled her eyes, but complied with a light kick to the man’s bottom to send him scrambling from the city square.
The rush of wind through the square collapsed into dead calm as the icrathari landed. Tera strode forward, her wings folded against her back. Her long silver braid draped over one shoulder, accentuating a slender body encased in a black leather bustier and pants.
“Tera,” Jaden acknowledged with a slight incline of his head.
“I apologize for spoiling the fun, but Ashra decided it wasn’t the right time for a pointed lesson on how vampires are stronger than humans.”
Jaden shook his head. “It was a pointed lesson on how much terror is associated with a mere glimpse of an icrathari. All in all, it might have been a more effective lesson.”
A smile tugged at Tera’s lips. “Glad to be of help. The council is waiting for you.” Her black wings rustled as she took to the air.
The vampires departed, too. Jaden alone stood in the square. Only then did Rafael step away from the shadow of the doorway. “Jaden.”
“Rafael.” Jaden turned to face him. “How is your injury?”
“Much improved.” Rafael held out the basket of flowers. “Will you take this to Siri, please?”
“Siri?” Jaden accepted the basket with a speculative gleam in his green eyes. “You could deliver this directly to her if you came with me into the tower.”
Rafael shook his head, stepped back, and turned away. It was better—safer—to keep Siri at arm’s length. She was, after all, an icrathari. One of her kind had broken the back of an impending human rebellion with no more effort than casting her shadow on the ground. As an individual, though, something about Siri’s quiet strength in the face of overwhelming pain reinforced his courage and ability to get through each bleak day and lonely night.
If she could survive extreme anguish, so could he.
She was a Night Terror, but he could not shake the feeling that they were somehow connected. Was that feeling anchored in logic or driven by emotion? He did not know, and increasingly, he wondered if it even mattered in the face of the unnatural attraction he felt for her.
Emotions tangled his thoughts into knots. Something was wrong with him, and he had no idea how to fix himself.
Chapter 6
In a corner of the large chamber, Tera spoke quietly with Ashra, apparently updating her on the human rebellion that evening. Neither seemed particularly concerned with the turn of events, and Siri saw no reason to muddy the waters by pointing out the increased frequency of human rebellion. Instead, she lounged in a chair, careful to maintain her languid pose even when her breath caught with pain. She had run out of Rafael’s salve; she would have to make another visit to the city when the council meeting ended.
“Isn’t he coming?” Ashra’s voice cut into Siri’s thoughts.
Siri looked up. “Jaden?”
“No, Rafael Varens.”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t want to be on the council. He insists that he cannot adequately represent the people of the city.”
“Oh?” Ashra tilted her head to one side. “And what is the real reason?”
“He hates what we do…the culling of the children. His only son was taken last month.”
“Only son?” Ashra echoed. “When did we start culling only children?”
“When their genetic flaws exceed the value their genetic diversity offers the city.” Siri shook her head. The statement sounded cold coming from her lips, but it was the unfortunate truth. She had returned to her computer and reviewed the algorithms. No matter which way she sliced it, Stefan’s name always made the list. The boy was too sickly.
She could have, however, overruled and allowed Stefan to live, for whatever good it did. Unless his prognosis changed significantly, his potential lifespan could be counted on two hands. Rafael would have lost Stefan within a few years, but it would have been in a different and neutral situation, to disease rather than the culling of children.
Rafael would not have had any cause to hate her.
She traced a circle with her toe. It did not matter, she supposed. In the grand scheme of things, Rafael’s hate meant little. He was a human; what was a human lifespan compared to hers? Perspective. She needed perspective to counter the inexplicable flutter of nerves in her stomach every time she thought of him. She was an icrathari. She had no business longing for a human.
The elevator drew to a stop on the uppermost floor of the tower, and Jaden stepped off. The subtle fragrance of lavender wafted through the chamber. Siri looked up as Jaden stopped in front of her. “Rafael sent this.”
“What?” Siri stared at the basket of lavenders and decorative grasses. She took the basket from Jaden and brushed her fingers lightly over the pale violet flowers, sending an explosion of perfume into the air. Two sealed glass jars lay beneath the profusion of flowers. Rafael had sent salves for her and buried their unique herbal smell beneath the overwhelming scent of fresh-cut lavenders.
Siri relaxed into a smile as she raised the basket to her face and inhaled deeply. Oh, Rafael was a wily one.
Ashra arched an eyebrow. “Is there something we should know about you and Rafael Varens?”
“Only that he has excellent taste in women,” Siri said as she pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek.
“It appears he’s overcome his revulsion of what we do.”
Siri shook her head. “No, but he’s able to draw a ver
y clear line between what we do and who we are as individuals. Most people look at us, and all they see are monsters. Rafael accepts us as individuals, but despises the monstrous things we do. In his mind, at least, the separation is clear. He still won’t represent the humans on our council.”
“Not under any circumstance?”
She should have known that Ashra would work around to the same point she had. Could Rafael’s cooperation be bought? “He asked for an expansion of the settlement and the release of all the children who have been culled,” she said.
“And his own?”
“As an extension of the general release, but he did not specifically ask for his own child to be released from the ark.”
The line on Ashra’s brow vanished. “An impressive person.”
Siri agreed. “Who wants nothing to do with us.” Though, she realized, it wasn’t entirely true. Rafael’s calling as a healer compelled him toward compassion. He would have supplied her with fresh salve for her wounds even without his son’s life hanging in the balance. He was becoming the one thing she had not expected to find among humans—a friend.
And then she had cast his altruism into doubt by turning it into a bargain. Her life for the children’s.
A devil’s bargain. Siri inhaled deeply. She did not have the faintest idea how to fulfill her part of the deal.
Ashra cast Siri a speculative look before turning to pace the chamber. “How are we doing on the fuel we need to explore the palladium deposits?”
“We have sufficient, barely, for our needs, and stockpiling is challenging,” Siri said. “The daevas are destroying our recharging stations. I’ve calibrated the city’s movements to ensure that we always have enough fuel, at least to make it to the next recharging station. Even if it’s wrecked, we can sit over it and provide the necessary cover to repair it. But stockpiling…that’s a pipe dream at this time.”
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