A Shade of Vampire 65: A Plague of Deceit

by Bella Forrest

  My stomach churned. On one hand, it was great to see her. But, at the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if her presence here was part of Ta’Zan’s new plan to mess with our heads. This wouldn’t have been his first, nor his last, attempt to play us.

  “Well, we’re glad to see you’re okay,” I said, giving her a genuinely warm smile. “Has Ta’Zan spoken to you since last night?”

  She nodded. “Yes. He sounded normal, not at all angry with me. I was quaking in my boots, sweating and barely controlling my breath, but he was so calm. He just told me to get other Faulties to help me with the food delivery this morning, because the others were no longer available. I didn’t have the courage to ask him for details.”

  “No, no, you were right not to ask,” Derek said. “If he doesn’t suspect you, there’s no reason to draw attention to yourself.”

  “If Amal didn’t tell him about you, it raises a whole new line of questions.” Claudia sighed, pursing her lips and crossing her arms. She sat on her bed and rejected the food, but Yuri was smart enough to save her a portion. Hunger was going to strike, sooner or later. “First and foremost, why didn’t she tell Ta’Zan about you?”

  Isda blinked several times, as if asking herself the same question, for the very first time.

  “I’m not sure. And I wouldn’t dare to talk to Amal about it,” Isda replied. “What if I’m wrong, and she didn’t know about me, and that’s why I’m not in prison with my people? If I ask her, she’ll realize I was involved, after all, and turn me in.”

  “No, that’s okay, Isda. Don’t worry about it,” Derek concluded, his jaw locked and expression firm. The decades of experience and fighting evil had drawn a few fine lines at the corners of his eyes, but, other than that, he was still the handsome, valiant young man I’d fallen for. I knew each of his faces, and this belonged to a man who’d made a plan. “Keep your head down. Do your job as usual. We’ll handle Amal.”

  Isda frowned. “What do you mean ‘handle Amal?’” she asked.

  “Well, she’ll be held accountable for what happened to her Faulty brothers, sooner or later,” Derek replied. “I’ll just have to remind her of that. What she did is unforgivable. Lucky for us, we had you and Monos watching our backs. Your distrust of her saved Varga,” he added, then let out a discreet hiss, as the shock collar around his neck began to burn hot.

  “We won’t stop,” Lucas said, gritting his teeth. Thoughts of rebellion angered his collar, but he’d built up a certain tolerance, much like the rest of us. But the body had its limits, and an electric shock was imminent.

  Marion squeezed his shoulder. “Babe, take it easy.”

  “I will,” he replied, then gave Isda a faint nod. “Just know that our fight isn’t over yet. We’re not giving up. We’re just getting started.”

  Isda smiled, seemingly encouraged by our still-high morale. It was going to take more than a foiled escape attempt to bring us all down. We’d made it this far, after all. We weren’t going to stop, not when we’d just begun to figure out what Ta’Zan’s limitations and weak points were. For as long as there was a sliver of hope, there was the strength to keep going.

  The sound of the doors opening again caught us all by surprise. Isda’s eyes grew wide with terror when she turned her head to see Ta’Zan coming in, accompanied by two Perfect guards. He was as sullen as the last time we’d seen him, the night before. Ta’Zan sure didn’t like it when his prisoners escaped.

  “Go about your business,” Derek whispered to Isda. “Ignore us.”

  She didn’t wait to be told twice, pushing the cart away and moving through the crowd, dispensing food and water to all the prisoners on our side of the diamond dome. Derek and I stayed close to each other, facing Ta’Zan as he walked over to us, his hands settled behind his back, as usual.

  “Ta’Zan. I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Derek said, keeping his chin up.

  “I have something to show you. Derek, Sofia, please come with me,” Ta’Zan replied.

  The tone of his voice was sharp, cutting through me like a hot knife. This wasn’t a request. It was an order, and we had no choice but to obey it. My blood ran cold, my fingers digging into Derek’s arm.

  This wasn’t going to take us anywhere good.

  Derek

  An ominous tension weighed heavily on my shoulders as I held Sofia’s hand tight in mine and followed Ta’Zan out of the diamond dome. We were flanked by Perfect guards, but I was still able to glance over my shoulder and notice the concerned expressions of everyone in our crew.

  I set the worry aside, though, and focused on what might come next. It couldn’t be good.

  “What are we doing out here?” I asked Ta’Zan.

  We walked down a hallway, the colorful glimmers of light breaking through the diamond walls, dancing all around us. The ethereal beauty of our surroundings had nothing in common with the dread creeping through my veins.

  “Like I said earlier, there’s something I need to show you. Wasn’t that clear enough?” Ta’Zan said.

  Oh, he was mad at me, all right. I’d annoyed him. I’d let him down by attempting to escape. It spoke volumes about him, actually, as only an extremely naïve person could believe that I would just sit back and accept my imprisonment without finding a way to get out.

  We turned several corners, noticing the increase in Perfect security at each door. There was definitely a change in the overall atmosphere, too. The Faulties’ stolen glances as they passed by us. Their fearful, over-the-shoulder looks as they went on their way, keeping their distance from the Perfects. There was definitely a shift between the Perfects and the Faulties, too, but from what I could tell, most of the rage didn’t come from the former, but rather from Ta’Zan. He was angry with his creations because they’d rebelled against him.

  I had a feeling that he was actually more upset about the Faulties’ rebellion than he was about our attempt to escape. He was trying to keep his cool about it, but I could tell it irked him more than he wanted to show.

  He led us toward a side door, in front of which Amal was waiting. She wore a dark blue silk tunic this time, quite different from her usual white garb. Her orange eyes seemed sad, and she looked right through me, not at me. It didn’t take an expert psychiatrist to figure out that she was miserable, to say the least.

  “Are they ready?” Ta’Zan asked Amal.

  She nodded once. “As they’ll ever be.”

  He went in, joined by Amal. The guards stayed back but motioned for us to follow Ta’Zan. As soon as we set foot inside, Sofia and I froze for a moment, staring at the black, obsidian-like glass walls that no one could see through. This was a dark room with artificial overhead lighting.

  In the middle, a large glass box had been fitted to hold around two hundred people, connecting the floor and the ceiling. A ventilator hummed on the side—an airing system had been set up for the box. Inside, we recognized Monos and the other eighteen Faulties we’d seen fighting the Perfects last night.

  “Derek…” Sofia mumbled.

  I tightened my grip on her hand, then kept walking until we reached the box, standing next to Ta’Zan and Amal. The rebel Faulties were bruised and battered, but they were all standing. Monos’s left eye couldn’t open anymore, as it was swollen and red, but he kept his chin up, strong and defiant, despite his imprisonment.

  “Why are we here, Ta’Zan?” I asked again.

  “Sometimes, your deliberate attempts to seem stupid can be endearing. But not today, Derek,” Ta’Zan replied. “Pray tell, what do you think is going on here? I’m sure you must have some idea.”

  I sighed heavily, resisting the urge to punch his lights out. My collar was already hot. “I see you’ve gathered all those who rebelled in that box,” I said, my tone clipped. “I suppose you’re planning to do a show of force, or something.”

  Ta’Zan gave me a dry smirk. “Not of force, but of authority,” he replied, then gave Amal a brief nod. “Derek, last night cannot and will not happen
again. And I intend to make sure that everyone gets the message.”

  Amal went to each of the obsidian walls and pressed her palm against each corner. One by one, they lit up as display screens, revealing well over a hundred Faulties, watching us from somewhere else inside the colosseum. Behind them, Perfects were also present, frowning as they saw us, then Monos and the others in the glass box. From what I could tell, not everyone was aware of what was going on.

  Ta’Zan turned to face one of the wall screens and raised his voice, making sure everyone could hear him. “I do not tolerate mutiny, sedition, rebellion, or any other form of disobedience. My word is law. That is the way of this world, and that is how it will always be. It was literally the first thing I taught you all, Faulties and Perfects alike,” he said. “Even so, it appears that some of your brothers and sisters thought they could rise up against me, against the Perfects, against this new world order. As you can see, that minor, collective effort failed,” he added, pointing at the glass box. “Nineteen of my children now stuck in a glass box, about to see a side of me I wish I didn’t have to show.”

  Amal handed Ta’Zan a small glass capsule with a metallic, circuit-like end. That side was going to get screwed in somewhere. Inside, a yellow liquid glimmered in the faint overhead lights. It spoke of all kinds of doom, and I could feel my heart rate spiking.

  “Let me be clear,” Ta’Zan continued. “I will create the ideal society, free of warfare, conflict, and greed. Whether you all join me on this mission or not is not up to you. We have to start somewhere, and we have to be strict and merciless, striking down all those who oppose us, if we’re to succeed. Therefore, rebellion is unacceptable. In fact, it is now a capital offense.”

  “Ta’Zan, what are you saying?” I mumbled, dread clutching my throat.

  He looked at the capsule in his hand, then at me, raising an eyebrow. “An example must be set,” he said loudly. “This is a new toxin I’ve been working on, designed specifically for larger target groups. I hate to have to do this to my own children, but it’s clearly time to set some ground rules, the kind that will bring on the death penalty, if broken. I want you all to see this, to understand what happens when you go against my will. And to those of you thinking you can do what Monos and his brethren did, without paying a price, I have this to say: abandon your thoughts of sedition now, or suffer the same fate. There are more of us than there are of you. The Perfects will lead us into a new world, and there is nothing you or anyone else can do to stop us.”

  Inside the glass box, the rebel Faulties grew restless, their eyes wide and filled with horror, as they realized what was about to happen. My instincts got the better of me, and I moved toward Ta’Zan, to stop him. My collar burned and hummed. Sofia jerked my hand, pulling me back.

  “You can’t,” she murmured, tears glazing her eyes. She, too, knew what was coming next.

  “Sofia, I… I have to stop him… Argh…” I hissed from the collar’s persistent stabs of heat. It was warning me, as always, that if I tried to do something, I’d get shocked out of consciousness. The conflict inside me rumbled to new heights, making my heart ache and my soul rage like a thunderstorm.

  The Faulties watching from the giant screens were equally terrified. Hell, even the Perfects standing behind them seemed uncomfortable with what was about to happen. Despite what we’d seen them do to our fleet, I couldn’t help but wonder if they were just drones, carrying out orders without actually liking what they had to do. Then, my mind wandered back to Abaddon. He certainly enjoyed it, and then some. But, if I were to compare him to the other Perfects, he was the aberration.

  Ta’Zan went back to the glass box, scowling at Monos and the others.

  “You did something unforgivable,” he said to Monos. “I trusted you. I made you. I raised and taught you everything you needed to know, and—”

  “You taught me what you wanted me to know! What suited your agenda!” Monos spat, no longer hiding his contempt for his own maker. “You lied to us! You said the future belonged to us! But what did you do?! You went and made the Perfects, and turned us into misfits, into their servants! And now, you made Cassiel, superior to your Perfects. You always aim higher, and you never think about us, about what we really want! You’re just a god with the knowledge and power to create life, and no consideration for what happens afterward! And you know what? That’s not even the worst part of you! No! The worst part is that you’re using us, you’re using the Perfects to get back at a world that rejected you, a world that’s already dead! We’re all chasing ghosts because of you, Ta’Zan! We’re all miserable and unhappy!”

  “I gave you life!” Ta’Zan roared, clearly displeased with Monos’s beratement. It was being done in public, before everyone else. I could see why Ta’Zan didn’t like it. Hell, no one liked being called out like this.

  “You gave me life, then you took it away! The moment you started mass-producing your Perfects, my brethren and I were done for. I didn’t see it at first. I thought it was just a phase… that it would pass. Then, I wound up cleaning their rooms and serving their food! Next, I hear that you’re thinking about wiping the Faulties out altogether, since we may not be suitable for your ideal world. You know, since we still carry traces of the animals you used to make us! You’re sick, Ta’Zan! None of us have any value to you! You use us, and then you throw us away like we’re nothing! So, kill me now. Kill us all, and prove exactly that! Prove how little you care. The world you’re trying to build doesn’t exist. It never will, because no matter how hard you try to control our genes, you will never fully control our nature or individualities!” Monos retorted, and stepped back from the glass.

  Ta’Zan shook his head in disdain, then mounted the capsule in a slot on the ventilation system’s control panel.

  “Ta’Zan, don’t do this!” I begged him, my heart already breaking. “Please. Don’t do something rash! Punish them if you must. But don’t kill them!”

  “Shut up!” Ta’Zan snapped, giving me an icy sideways glance. He twisted the capsule in the slot until it locked on, and the yellow liquid was released through the ventilation pipes leading inside the glass box. “Let this be a lesson to all of you! Rebellion is punishable by death. Those of you who assist in the creation of our world will live. Those of you who don’t… Well, see for yourselves.”

  Horror unfolded quickly as yellow smoke filled the glass box. The Faulties didn’t even get a chance to react. As soon as the smoke touched them, they turned into puffs of ash, scattering across the box.

  “No!” I growled, and Sofia held me tight.

  We both dropped to our knees, crying and watching the nineteen Faulties turn into piles of ash. They were dead so fast.

  “It is painless,” Amal whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  I couldn’t control myself, and bared my fangs at her. “They’re on you! Their deaths are on your conscience! You killed nineteen of your brothers and sisters, Amal! Screw you!”

  The Faulties on the screens burst into tears, covering their mouths and leaning into one another as they cried for their fallen brothers and sisters. Ta’Zan stood there, narrowing his blue-and-green eyes at the glass box, a muscle angrily twitching in his jaw.

  Monos and his rebel Faulties were gone. Ash piled up beneath a yellow cloud.

  My hazy gaze found Amal’s. She’d definitely helped Isda—I couldn’t describe the gut feeling I had about this, but nothing could change my mind. Amal had kept Isda from ending up in that glass box with Monos and the others. Was she as heartless as I’d thought? Or was Amal planning something more complex?

  Then, I looked at Ta’Zan. He gave me a faint smirk.

  Bile rose in my throat.

  And, just like that, I understood the lengths to which Ta’Zan was willing to go in order to get what he wanted. He was ready to kill his own without even blinking, if it got him closer to what he aimed to achieve.

  The so-called perfect world, built on nothing but pain, misery, and blood.

/>   Elonora

  I still couldn’t believe my eyes.

  Draven, Serena, Avril, Heron, and his wards, along with Taeral, Bijarki, Bogdana, and Lumi, had come to Strava. In addition, they’d stumbled upon perhaps the most precious treasure of this planet: the Draenir that had survived the plague and their offspring. They’d been living on Merinos in complete isolation, kept safe by the hostile weather clusters and the thick jungles lining the river.

  But, with this discovery, darker truths had come to light, as well.

  Sure, we’d made an ally in Raphael, but, as soon as Rakkhan, the Draenir Elder, recognized Amane, her earlier deeds were revealed. Amane and her twin sister, Amal, had helped Ta’Zan create the plague, which he’d then used to wipe out the Draenir.

  That was ancient history, so to speak, but it still resonated with the survivors of a species we’d thought to be extinct. The virus had been designed to be carried by creatures with a partial percentage of Draenir genes in them, such as the Faulties and the Perfects. However, it was only activated when it came in direct contact with full Draenir. While Ta’Zan had designed the virus to be airborne and fatal, the cells had mutated after it spread to all the victims within its reach. With no more Draenir to infect, the virus lay dormant—it probably still was.

  The worst part was that Amane, Kallisto, Leah, and Samael could still be carrying a sleeper version of this plague, without even knowing. We may have brought danger back to the Draenir’s doorstep, and that made me the angriest, especially where Amane was concerned. She’d told us nothing of her involvement in the plague’s creation. Heck, until a few minutes ago, we’d all thought it to be a terrible natural disaster. But no, it had been made by Ta’Zan, in retaliation for his maker, Mudak Marduk’s, suicide. He’d blamed the Draenir for it, refusing to accept that, after being imprisoned, Mudak could no longer live with himself, knowing what an intelligent monster he’d created.