by Tanith Frost
There’s so much pain there. Not the kind the Agonites use to make themselves stronger, but the kind that’s shameful for one of our kind to admit to suffering, one that threatens to destroy even the strongest of us if we don’t face it. He’s containing it, but one crack in his walls could release a flood he’d have no hope of controlling.
There’s so much I want to ask him. To tell him. Even if it’s just letting him know that I still want to save him from this, even if he doesn’t feel the same way about me. I almost do.
But then I remember how Lachlan keeps everyone on their toes, ensuring they can never really trust each other.
I’m becoming a good liar, but Daniel has always been a far better one. He has a gift for hiding the truth, whether it be about his power, his feelings, or his other gifts. He knows how to play the games of power, how to rise slowly and quietly, gaining respect, becoming necessary.
Lachlan doesn’t trust Daniel, but he doesn’t trust me, either. He’d be a fool not to have Daniel spying on me, and anything I confess to Daniel now could be beneficial for him if he wants to survive here.
He did try to kill me to save his own ass. And if that’s not proof that we’re through, I don’t know what is.
I take a step back, and whatever was between us vanishes. My own mask slips into place, and all is as it should be. I, the vampire who might once have been voted least likely to succeed, here now in my fine dress that hides bloodstains so well. Daniel, once my trainer and practically the god of my dark new world, standing with his shoulders stooped in the filthy work clothes he’s been wearing to spread shit in a flower garden to please vampires like me.
It’s just so goddamn fucking poetic.
With our connection broken, I’m free to feel other things: my own power, somehow as bright as it is dark even with my fire suppressed; the life that surrounds us.
The undisguised, overwhelming void presence that’s quickly approaching from outside the garden.
“Hide!” I order.
Daniel doesn’t ask why. He races for a vine-covered trellis at the back of the room and slips behind it, instantly covering every trace of his own presence and power. Even I wouldn’t know he was here.
I hurry back to the roses and turn my attention to studying them, immersing myself in this moment. This is what I’ve been doing since I entered the garden, after all. Daniel was never here.
Only Ava. Hyde doesn’t need to know what Jekyll was up to.
I turn to Lachlan as he enters and offer a hesitant smile. “Is it okay that I’m here?”
He opens a panel on the wall and flicks a switch, and the overhead lights go off. We’re left with the dim lights that illuminate the pathways and the twinkling strands tangled in the willows’ hair. “Better?”
“Infinitely, thank you. I couldn’t resist coming in to take a look around, but those lights are horrible.”
He strides toward me and reaches out to stroke the velvety petals of a blossom. “Stopping to smell the roses?”
“It was that or tiptoe through the tulips, and I didn’t want to crush them.”
His fingers still trace the edge of a crimson petal, but his eyes are on me. “You’re an odd sort of vampire, aren’t you?”
I let myself be drawn to him, allowing that to cover anything else I might be feeling.
“I guess I am. Is that bad?”
“No.” He brushes a lock of hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear, letting his fingers rest against my cheek. “You’re like fresh air. Like seeing the stars for the first time away from city lights. The same, but new. Something I didn’t know I wanted until I found it.”
“I know that feeling.”
I don’t let myself think of Daniel, who’s surely watching as Lachlan touches my lips as gently as he did the rose. He trails his fingers along my jaw, lifting my gaze to meet his.
“Do you want me as I want you, Ava?”
I imagine kissing him, how he’d taste like the sharp sting of venom. I sink into the depths of his presence, so dark and unfamiliar, so tempting in its own terrifying way. I wonder what his body is like under that gorgeous suit and what it would be like to be fully at his mercy… or to have him begging for mine.
Warmth spreads through my body.
“I want,” I whisper back, but can’t find the right words to finish the sentence. I do want him, but I’m ashamed. I’m afraid of him and of how easy it would be to forget the past and everything that holds me back from becoming the monster I was made to be.
And of my mistakes. I shouldn’t have gone to Bethany’s workroom and definitely shouldn’t have stayed here to talk to Daniel.
I have to get Lachlan out of here.
“The truth, now.”
I look up at him from beneath my eyelashes and pull at my lower lip with one fang. “I want many things from you. Maybe we could discuss it in your rooms after we feed?”
Lachlan lifts my left hand and places a light, lingering kiss on the backs of my fingers. “As my lady pleases.”
He doesn’t pause to turn the lights back on as we leave.
I won’t ask Daniel to thank me for that later.
16
I can see why Lachlan needed time to set this up.
We’re next door to the room where I was interrogated on my first night here. This space is larger, divided by a wall made mostly of glass instead of bars, with a white speaker next to the window that allows us to hear what’s happening on the other side. A door would allow us entry into the space beyond, but Lachlan doesn’t seem to have any intention of passing through.
For now, we’re just spectators.
On the other side of the window, two humans kneel under a dim spotlight, heads down, both of them facing Willard, the vampire who interrogated me. There’s no furniture or decoration over there save for a round clock hanging next to a metal vent cover. White face, stark black numbers. The second hand is red, though, and through the speaker, I hear every tick.
The woman is pretty for a human, with thick brown hair braided behind her neck. He’s a big fellow, clean-shaven, strong.
“This will be fun,” Lachlan tells me, practically purring the words. “Best feed you’ve ever experienced without killing, I promise. If you’re ready, that is.”
“I’m always ready to feed.” I watch as the man glances up, trembling. “Is Willard going to hurt them?”
“No. He could, but that’s not why we’re here tonight.” Lachlan looks away from the humans and studies my face, searching for something. “Physical pain is a strong spice, but cheap. Fine in its place, but there’s so much more you could experience here. And I promise that real experiences in humans, whether it’s pain, fear, or something more pleasant for them, are far more compelling than what you’ve tasted with the help of the ridiculous little potions they offer in your former clan.”
I step closer to the window. The humans are obviously terrified.
“I tasted so much at the Inferno,” I tell Lachlan. “Joy, euphoria, lust, contentment… I never tasted the darker things. They seemed cruel and unnecessary, and I didn’t want to be that kind of a monster.”
“You were, though.” His voice is behind me now, but I feel his attention. “Even if you didn’t want to admit it.”
“I was.” I can give him what he wants to hear without lying. I just have to make sure he doesn’t see how it still hurts me to admit it. “I tasted fear in the blood of an unwilling victim, and it was the sweetest blood I’d ever known. I killed. Unwillingly, but that didn’t keep me from benefitting from his terror before he died. I hated myself for it, but I liked it. I was that monster, and it felt like the fulfillment of everything I was supposed to be. But I went back to offering stock the pleasant emotions after that, hoping I’d forget how right it felt to do the wrong thing.”
Lachlan places a hand on the back of my neck. “They taught you to feel shame. Not because they have morals in a human sense but because it’s how they maintain order and control. We’v
e found a better way here.”
Better for whom? I think as I watch the humans who wait with leaking eyes and trembling limbs, but keep my lips shut. He’s not wrong. My mouth is watering despite my mind’s weak objections. Whatever’s about to happen will be good for us, better than what any vampire in Maelstrom gets by legal means.
We answer to no higher power. We fear no eternal judgement. If I accept that we have no responsibility to anyone but our own kind, this all makes sense.
I should feel something for these humans—pity, guilt, an urge to save them. But all of that is buried, and I won’t dig it up when Lachlan is obviously testing me.
What troubles me is that I’m not sure I even want to feel those things.
“Please, what’s happening?” The woman’s voice trembles. “Have we done something wrong?”
“Are they servants?” I ask.
“They are. Much like the one who’s been serving you, in fact. Well cared for, rarely used for feeding. They’ve been here for years and have become content with their lot. Comfortable enough to relax and make their home here.” A smile enters Lachlan’s voice. “Comfortable enough to find love.”
He can’t know about what once existed between me and Daniel. This is a coincidence, not a warning. Still, the hairs on my arms stand on end. “I guess that was stupid of them.”
“They’re not the first to be so foolish, and they won’t be the last. Humans can’t help what they are.” Lachlan taps on the glass, and Willard steps toward the humans.
“One of you will die tonight,” he says, his voice without emotion or apparent interest. “You will have five minutes to decide which of you it will be.” He gives each of them a hard glare and nods toward the clock on the wall. “If you do not come to a decision in the allotted time, you will both die. Do you understand?”
The woman glares right back at him, though the visible whites of her eyes betray her fear. “You can’t do this. We’ve served you well. We’ve—”
“The timer starts now. Make your decision.” Willard leaves them through another door in the side of the room.
As soon as the door is closed, the humans embrace each other. Lachlan stands beside me, chin resting on the fingers of one hand, smiling faintly as he watches and listens.
I want to run. Not just from their pain and the stark reminder of what could have happened if Daniel and I had come here together, but from myself and my cold curiosity about where this will lead.
I can’t escape this, though. This is what I became when the light abandoned me, making me its enemy. It’s what I’ve always been, deep down. I’ve just spent the years since my death hiding from it.
The void whispers through me, telling me that the light was never really mine, that I am where I belong, that all I need to do is let go. It’s compelling. Comforting. Exciting.
“I should die,” the man says with the jarring bravado of an action film hero. He turns to the woman. “The vampires like you better. You’ll be safe.”
“Safe?” The woman stands and shakes out her black skirt. “It will never be safe here. We were stupid to think it could be.” He rises, and she holds him close, cheek pressed to his chest. “But you’re strong. And people listen to you. If you live, you can tell them what happened to me, find a way out.”
“We’ve both known for a long time that this is the only way out.” He kisses the top of her head. “Do you want to die?”
“No. I want to live, but not without you.”
Lachlan rolls his eyes. “Such melodrama.”
Both humans are crying now as they cling to each other.
“What’s the plot twist here?” I ask. “Are we getting them worked up and then killing them both?”
He gives me a smile that wants to be mysterious but which betrays how pleased he is with himself. “Not at all. One will live.”
I frown and turn back to the window. The one who dies will be heartbroken, but will go knowing they saved their lover. A heroic end. Hardly the kind of thing I’d expect a vampire with dark tastes to go for. Unless they turn on each other and end up filled with anger and hate, each insisting that the other should die. But if that was Lachlan’s plan, it seems to be failing.
They’re whispering now. Kissing. Wiping each other’s tears away. It would be dreadfully overdone if I were watching it in a movie, but this is real. They’re terrified as much for each other as for themselves.
It’s terrible. And absolutely pathetic.
“One of us could survive this,” the man says.
“But for what?” she asks. “To go on serving the ones who killed the only thing that made this place bearable, knowing that their appetites will catch up to us one day?” She shakes her head firmly. “No. I’ll die before I live without you. When the vampire comes back, we each offer ourselves, no compromises. We die together and hope we’ll find each other in whatever world comes after this.”
My hands clench at my sides. How much easier it must be to choose death and self-sacrifice when there’s hope of something more.
Damn the light.
The man pulls her close again. “You know that I love you, right?”
“Beyond any doubt.” She smiles sadly and takes a deep breath. “Even if we have to die, at least we won’t give them the satisfaction of destroying that.”
“What strange creatures,” Lachlan says as the second hand ticks past the twelve, marking the end of their time. Willard re-enters the room.
“Your decision?” he asks. He sounds as if he’s taking their order in a restaurant, not hearing who’s to be sacrificed.
The woman clenches her fists and looks him square in the eye. “Take me.” She turns to the great love of her life, the man who’s made imprisonment and servitude bearable, but he doesn’t look back at her.
My chest clenches.
“Take her.” His voice comes out in a harsh rasp.
The woman’s mouth opens, though she seems incapable of speech as Willard twists one of her arms behind her back. The look she gives the young man says everything she can’t, expressing her confusion, her heartbreak, the sheer sense of betrayal that’s caught her by surprise. The man looks away quickly, but he saw.
I hope he never forgets it. Not if he lives another decade in this place.
Lachlan sighs contentedly. “Notice the emotions in them. Guilt, betrayal, shame, disgust, regret, loathing, even hatred… all mixed with their fear. It will be absolutely intoxicating if we feed now. You can’t fake this sort of experience.”
The man falls to his knees, then curls up on the floor as Willard drags the woman out.
“I hope it was worth it for him.” I speak through clenched teeth. I know I should be laughing at him for his weakness, but all I feel is rage—not for the woman’s sake, but because he’s just demonstrated everything I’ve resisted believing about how worthless love is in this world. I’ve been clinging to a dangerous lie since my death. “When will she die?”
“Oh, no time soon.” Lachlan folds his hands behind him and rocks back on his heels. “That’s the twist, as you called it. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s pregnant. We have so few humans who have been raised entirely in captivity, but the possibilities are enticing. Imagine its reaction if we spoiled and pampered it its entire life, then ripped all of that away at the end?” His eyes sparkle.
“Sounds like quite the investment.”
“One I can afford, I assure you. Shall we?” Lachlan opens the door into the other room.
The human scoots away, pushing his ass across the floor with his legs, backing into a corner. His eyes are bloodshot, his nose running freely. It’s disgusting.
But not unappetizing. I let my anger grow, shielding me from my doubts. He deserves to die. He betrayed someone he loved to save his own ass—and for a life he doesn’t want. He knows he’ll never escape here, and that he’ll have to live with his regrets forever. He’s a coward. Nothing more, nothing less.
I smell his misery, self-loathing, and fear. Th
ey’re more tempting than the aroma of the finest feast I could have imagined when I was alive.
He glares at Lachlan. “I guessed it would be you behind all of this.”
“I’m flattered. Tell me, are you pleased with your decision?”
His breath shudders. “No. But she was going to die either way. At least this way, one of us will survive.”
“Indeed. And she’s better off without you.”
Lachlan moves quickly, grabbing the man by one arm and jerking him to his feet. One hand twists the human’s wrist behind his back while the other grips his hair and tugs, exposing the frenzied pulse in his throat. The human’s feet kick against the floor as he groans with pain and fear.
“This death is mine, remember,” Lachlan says, watching me over the human’s shoulder. “But I invite you to draw first. Unless you propose we release him.”
An obvious test. The first human we killed together was easy. Willing. He wants to know that I’ve truly let go of my past inhibitions, that I’m ready to embrace Tempest’s ways.
“Please,” the man whispers. “Tell him to let me go.”
If I tell Lachlan to show mercy and prove myself unable to take an unwilling human life, I’ll give myself away. I’ll be questioned, tortured, executed, probably alongside Daniel. And I’m not enough of a fool to think that Lachlan will actually let this guy go. The question is whether I fall with him to preserve my sense of self.
And what self? One who let herself be used and discarded by those in power, who shot herself in the foot by not taking advantage of a demon’s offer to bind him to her, who came here believing love would conquer all and somehow win the day—all so she could go back to being overlooked and held back from embracing her true power?
The darkness of the void wraps tight around me, shielding me from what I once was, moulding me for the moment into the creature I need to be to survive here: dark, terrifying, remorseless.
The past was the lie. This is everything I’m supposed to be.
I let my hips sway as I cross the room in long strides, then smirk slowly as I trail one nail down the human’s throat. Lachlan knocks the backs of the guy’s knees and lowers him to kneel before me.
