by Kelsey Quick
Katarii’s mouth drops. “You mean… a free-roaming colony? I didn’t know human colonies still existed!”
I nod, and softly reply, “Who knows, mine could have been the last one.”
I’m sure she can see by my face that I have no interest in discussing the topic further so she changes course. “Will you teach me French? I’d love to be in on the jokes, too.”
“Of course!” Savvy squeals before I even have a chance to think through the question. She’s excited to include others, as usual. I bite my tongue as she back pedals. “Well, if Wavorly is okay with it. It’s really her language to share after all.”
They both look to me.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” I lie, aching as a piece of my exclusive friendship with Savvy cracks beneath the pressure of social courtesy. Katarii might be a great friend if I give it a chance, but then again, she might have a knack for sabotaging nice things like so many others. I shrug.
If she takes Savvy from me, that’s less guilt for me to feel when I escape.
As the thought crosses my brain, I instantly regret it. My emotions go numb and the walls lift around my heart. I can’t believe I just thought that. Why would I think that? I’m too sensitive. Too cynical.
Besides, Savvy won’t ever leave me, I think to myself, trying to choke the root of a deeply planted, blossoming fear. If she does, then that’s life, I guess.
✽✽✽
At the chime of the second hour, we filter into the cafeteria hall to wait in line for dinner’s meal tags. The new supply units are last, the oldest first. So Anaya is the first to move through the line, standing as if she owns the world. I guess she might as well own ours. In such a small world beneath ground, it’s like a miniature Cain. A couple rule the top and control the rest with just enough leverage to keep the others subdued, no matter the injustice.
She gives me a side glance and grimaces. I have words for her that I one day hope I get to say. Savvy is ahead of me, complaining about how much her arms hurt from stirring the bucket of synthetics, while Katarii comments on the true chore of listening to some other supply unit cough up mucus all day. We talk away the hearty smells and impatience for food until finally, Savvy reaches the front of the meal tag line. She holds out her time stamps reluctantly. I observe as the old female vampire analyzes it with a scowl.
“I’m afraid you need at least a quarter night of work to receive any portion,” she explains, handing back the stamps “Maybe tomorrow.”
Savvy’s bright features sullen somewhat, leading me to step in.
“Wait. You mean she can’t eat today? Erm… madam?” I ask, facing the large woman.
“That’s right. She only worked an eighth. They can count toward her ration tags tomorrow, but she will not be awarded any today,” she proclaims with a voice growing more menacing. “Any other questions?”
I frown, about ready to give this lady a piece of my mind before Savvy pulls on my sleeve, whispering, “Don’t do anything stupid, Wave. You’re on thin ice already.”
Suddenly I remember Zein’s threat, and I shut my mouth. Savvy continues, “And she’s right, I worked very little today. I understand the system. It’s my fault.”
Savvy smiles before leaving the line to go find a spot for the three of us to sit. The compact dining hall is lined with concrete slabs for tables and carved stones for chairs, many of them empty. I turn to Katarii who trades her full night worked for half a meal tag.
“Katarii, why didn’t Savvy work with you the whole time?” I ask.
She studies me for a moment, returning her thoughtful gaze to her time stamps and half a meal tag. “Well, she didn’t want me to say anything but… she had been so worried about you that she begged Emi to find answers. She called Gemini and he admitted that you were recovering in the infirmary. And I suppose he escorted her there and she waited around for as long as she could.”
My heart clenches in my chest. I pull the five full ration tags that Narref had given to me from my sash, giving one to Katarii.
“Take this,” I say, my mind elsewhere. “It’s for you.”
Her mouth drops. “Where did you-?”
But I don’t stick around long enough to hear the end of her question. I march to the next checkpoint in line where the tags are traded for food. An auburn-haired vampire with blue eyes looks over me.
“...Good evening,” she says, her voice illustrated by a strange accent. “What have you to trade?”
I open my palm near my chest, unintentionally revealing the four count of ration tags to the woman. “Two portions, please,” I request, holding out two of the tags, uncertain if I’m doing it right.
Now her stare is full-blown skeptical, but she smiles warmly. “Sorry dear, only one full portion per day.”
Her wide eyes grow ever-wider. “Wait a minute, you couldn’t be...” She breaks her train of thought, thinking to herself for a moment before completing the question. “... supply unit Z-two-nine… oh, I can’t remember. The one who stood up to Lord Zein at the Distribution?”
Now it’s me that gives her a questionable look. Somewhere in the depths of my mind, I recall Gemini’s secretive nature when retrieving us from the fallen reservoir at distribution. For the first time, I find myself questioning the motives behind that secrecy. I decide to play ignorant.
“No, I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh? Forgive me… my dear friend is a dorm mother at Nightingale and she told me this rumor of a red-haired supply unit who disgraced our honorable leaders, even that of Lord Giomar.” She continues her lingering gaze, expecting some sort of reply.
“I’m sorry to say that you must have heard a false rumor, madam. I don’t think I have it in me to do such a foolish thing.” I may have called myself foolish, but my apparent talent for lying carries me through seamlessly.
“Ah.” She sighs, disappointedly. “I really should stop listening to all of that nonsense then.”
I nod, solidifying my stance. “I’d rather be burned to death than test any leader of Cain.”
She bursts out in a fit of chuckles before turning toward the kitchen. “Yes, yes. Well, me too. If I could burn, that is.”
She laughs her way to the food trays while I shoot Katarii a quick glance, creating a visual statement for ‘What the hell was that?’ Katarii shrugs, but looks to be pretty confused, herself.
Soon, the giggling vampire is back with a tray full of delicious food.
“Well, here you are. I hope I didn’t offend you by jumping to conclusions,” she says, a look of formulated guilt stitched across her brow. Since when did vampires care if they offend humans?
“No, of course not, madam,” I say submissively.
“It’s Seriesa.” She grins. “Seriesa Tamoir.”
“Oh, um, Wavorly,” I half-smile while nodding, taking my leave from the window as she nods back.
What a strange vampire.
While on my way to the concrete table that Savvy has picked out for us, an unusual weight lands in my gut. In light of that previous conversation, I wonder.
Did Zein purposely sentence me in front of the crowd at the Distribution, only to recover me later on when less eyes were watching? But, why would he? Because my sewage-like blood would go to waste? Because of the worth of my red hair and green eyes to his collection?
I’m beginning to doubt such shallow reasonings for his actions. To salvage someone like me for the sake of hair and eye color that would disappear after a short time—short for vampires, anyway—is a bit difficult to believe. As I near Savvy, I push the thought to the back of my mind, excited to surprise her.
“Hey, Sav, this is for you,” I say, smiling at her widely and dropping the tray with a clank to scare her. It works.
“H-how did you get this? You didn’t work at all!” she says, her eyes growing wider the more the juicy peas, baked potatoes, and honey-drizzled strawberries ensnare her senses.
“Don’t worry about that,” I say, pus
hing the tray more toward her so that she knows there’s no room for debate. “I’ve already eaten, and you need to eat, so don’t fight me on it.”
Skeptically, she eyes me before blinking down at the food—as if she doesn’t know what to do with it. She finally relents to her instincts and stuffs her face. Katarii joins us, sitting next to me and thanking me for the meal. However, she seems extremely uneasy.
“It looks like most now know that we are the odd ones out...,” she states, nervously scanning the room.
“It’s not fun, that’s for sure.” I mutter, “Feel free to sit elsewhere if it bothers you too much.” I give her the brunt of my assumption and all of a sudden, the image of Katarii slapping my welting face those years ago pierces my thoughts, and a reluctant anger festers. But, to my surprise, she looks horror-struck.
“I... I won’t do that,” she stumbles over her words, clearly embarrassed. Maybe we are dwelling on the same memory.
There is a moment of tense silence before she says, “I don’t want to be that kind of person. I’m sorry for, you know, everything back then.”
Caught off guard, I open my mouth and swiftly close it, averting my eyes elsewhere. No one except Savvy had ever apologized to me before. I finally manage a small and chaste, “...It’s okay,” before the heavy air lifts from the table.
Savvy’s face alights, and it’s obvious as to why. She has always wanted me and Katarii to get along. I have to admit, I’m kind of happy about it, too.
“Hello girls.” The voice of Emi approaches from behind. She struts over with her tray, and with Glera at her side. Emi takes the seat next to Savvy, across from me, while Glera takes the one to my right.
“Is it okay if I sit here?” Glera asks me softly. I nod, unsure of her intentions and if they coincide with any of my fears. She seems timid, yet kind so… perhaps not.
“It’s Wavorly, right?” Emi addresses me. ”How are you doing? Is it painful?” She touches her own neck in reference.
“Oh, um,” I start off slow, moving my hand to the covered puncture wounds in a copycat fashion. “A little, but not too bad now that there’s salve on it.”
Why is talking to these girls like this so nerve-wracking? Usually I have no problem saying what’s on my mind, but never have I been in a situation when multiple people want to hear what I have to say.
“What did he do to you?” Glera offers her concern, looking over my neck and torso as if searching for something that might have been misplaced. “We heard you went to the infirmary.”
“He didn’t do anything serious, I just fainted.”
“Was he... angry?” Emi asks.
“Well, I did make him wait three seconds instead of two,” I say.
It takes the same three seconds for the girls to realize it’s a joke, except Savvy, who started chuckling right away. I look at Emi intently.
“Emi, may I ask how you, and Anaya for that matter, knew about what I did at the Distribution?
She tilts her head, slightly taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“Neither of you seemed all that surprised when Katarii and Savvy showed up,” I say, ”It was odd that you were so open to our arrival, and you even had red robes for Katarii and Savvy waiting for them.”
Both Savvy and Katarii exchange quizzical glances, suddenly interested in hearing Emi’s answer. Glera looks between us. She had seen them in the amethyst dresses too. Surely, she also wants to know.
“Oh!” Emi’s voice raises an octave. “I suppose that is a bit weird. While we’ve never had something like that happen before, there are always communications in place to let the escorts and head of supply know who will be arriving or not arriving to the seraglio. Madam Ceti gave us the first list from the Selection Hall, without the three of you on it, but a little after, she brought us a new one from Lord Zein himself—which is quite unusual—explaining your arrivals and what to do.”
“I see…” I simply fill the silence. A part of me was hoping that her answer would shed some light as to why the whole thing was so hush hush, but it appears that I’m not the only one suspecting things.
“So, if it’s not too forward… what exactly is the relationship between you and Lord Zein?” Emi asks me.
My eyes flit between everyone as I try to understand her meaning.
“Um, master and very reluctant servant, I guess?”
“Well, Savvy mentioned you two have a strange history, so…”
I offer Savvy a trite glare and she mouths a quick apology.
I turn back to Emi and smile none too genuinely. “Yes, we do have a strange history.”
She raises her eyebrows which inadvertently asks her next question.
I clasp my hands together and inhale deeply. Surely, she isn’t thinking what I assume she’s thinking.
“He’s a typical, blood-thirsty vampire who keeps me here against my will… and that’s about it.” I pick at my fingernails as I make eye contact with Emi. “Did you think it was something more forbidden?”
She and the rest of them fidget a little in their own way, their eyes darting back and forth from mine to each other’s.
“Is that the latest supply talk?” I ask, annoyed. “I’ve only been here for one day.”
Emi slides her petite hands along the edge of the table in front of her, tinkering with one of the two circlets on her fingers. “It’s just strange behavior… coming from our lord. He usually only summons a handful of his supply units, while the rest primarily go un-summoned, tending to the chores. On top of that, he rarely ever uses his fangs.”
I knew the fangs part, but the rest is weird. I scan the room of supply units, hunched over, eating their bowls of potatoes, and quickly find that most don’t have a red ribbon around their neck or arms: no marks. They’ve never been summoned before. Anaya has a ribbon around her neck and arm, Emi just around the arm, and then a handful here or there, but they all seem clumped together. In fact, ribboned units are cleaner, hair pinned and lips painted, noses higher in the air than usual. Like they actually form status cliques based on whether Zein drinks your blood or not. I shake my head. Two, fresh puncture wounds on a new unit must really be a rarity to make everyone think the new supply unit is getting frisky with their master. I gag thinking about it.
“No. There’s no truth to that assumption whatsoever,” I say, still trying to get the taste out of my mouth. “And I have no idea why he summoned me.” Except to make it clear that Savvy’s and Katarii’s lives were in my hands, but we can leave that part out.
“Well—,” Savvy butts in, looking to me as if asking for permission that I don’t give—but it doesn’t stop her. “—I don’t know if it means anything, but Wavorly was born into a free-roaming colony. She apparently has a hair and eye pairing that’s uncommon, so that’s probably why he decided to take her from there instead of going to Saya.”
Emi’s eyes nearly swallow her face while Katarii’s shift with unease.
“So that’s the strange history.” Emi rests her chin on her knuckles.
Glera merely tilts her head, crossing her arms over her chest.
I nod lightly. Every other supply unit here was probably harvested from Saya’s breeding houses, judged for investment on blood type, future beauty potential, and how meek they were expected to be in nature. My being here is especially strange because my blood type is B-, and Zein tends to stick with O’s and A’s. My beauty potential is lacking, though I do have the unique features to negate that, I guess. And as for meek in nature? We don’t need to go there. I was far from it even back then.
“What was it like? Growing up in a place ruled by humans?” Emi asks with immense interest.
“I don’t really like to talk about it,” I mumble as dark and bloodstained memories try to resurface, but I bury them expertly.
“I can understand that,” Glera responds, “Don’t worry. We don’t need to know.” I meet her warm, steadfast gaze, and I smile.
“Thank you.”
Luckily, Emi fol
lows Glera’s lead and says nothing more.
“You were brought in by Lord Zein, himself?” Katarii asks quietly.
“Yeah, he saved me from a rogue vampire when I was little.” I sigh from the tiresome subject. “A poor investment on his part. I’m nothing like what I should be.” And it’s true. Zein has saved me several times. I should be grateful, but something holds me captive to the edge of chaos. What is mercy if I’m still in chains? I’m unable to answer that question, so it only solidifies my resolve.
Katarii shifts her gaze downward and picks at her food. She’s upset. I half expected her to react this way, though I will never understand it. Cain-bred supply units are raised to desire the favoritism of their vampire master. So, to her, I’m an unworthy and unappreciative recipient of Zein’s sparse attention. In fact, everyone at this table, in this room, even—if rumors spread as they did in Nightingale—probably thinks that. I swallow down a sudden wave of nausea.
Glera uncrosses her arms and shifts toward me. “Well, your luck has been remarkable, Wavorly. And Zein choosing to accept you despite all that you did? You can’t blame people for asking questions. You’re an anomaly.”
I drop my gaze, analyzing the sands of the concrete table.
“So, you all should know that I do hate him...,” I pause for effect. Emi, Glera, and Katarii all look at me like I have the plague while Savvy continues popping potatoes into her mouth, as she’s accustomed to my open distaste for vampires. “...so then are you assuming he feels differently about me?”
I suddenly recall him catching me this morning and how he took me to the infirmary last night. Emi offers a shrug, uncommitted to any real answer while the others remain silent. None of them know what to make of it and the thought only sickens me.
Although their opinions influence me to consider every possibility, I still can’t fully wrap my mind around this particular idea. Zein’s still blackmailing me after all, like the raging ass that he is.
“That’s what Anaya thinks,” Emi explains. “Which is why she’s not taking too kindly to you.”
