The sunlight filtered through, broken on the color spectrum and casting rainbow flakes across the room. I spent hours in absolute silence, wondering where I was and how I could get back to my husband and my friends. I did know that this whole situation had been created by Ta’Zan purely out of spite and in a moment of anger.
Derek had made him snap, and for good reason, too. There was no way that Ta’Zan would’ve ever seen this coming. We knew too much, and so did our people out there. They’d used that information against him, and they’d set him back by a week or more. It had to sting, and Ta’Zan had to retaliate in order to not lose face in front of his Perfects. With powerful weapons or not, a weak leader was no leader at all, not when he ruled over a nation as powerful and as raw as the Perfects.
On a coat rack, not far from my glass box, there hung dozens of gray silken tunics, all clean and perfectly smooth. Judging by the diamond embroidery on the chest and sleeves, they could only belong to one person. On the other side of the room, just inches from the terrace archway, was a writing desk with a chair. A computer system was mounted on top, its glowing blue cables going into the diamond walls and rushing somewhere else in the colosseum. Next to it were notes and a quill, the feather from one of the multicolored birds I’d seen out in the wild.
I was alone for hours, and I spent each second taking in every single detail that the room had to offer. When he finally came through the door, I already knew I’d been brought into his home. Ta’Zan ignored me that morning as he crossed the room and took a seat in front of his computer system. He said nothing for a while, working.
It was as if I were invisible. Or maybe a goldfish inside an aquarium bowl. A mere decorative mouth-breather. Nothing more, nothing less. Normally, that would’ve made me feel insulted, but, after the kick in the nuts he’d gotten from my Ben and Rose’s operations, I was grateful.
After he was done, he walked past my glass box to pick up another silk tunic. He changed behind a decorative screen, emerging in a new outfit—this time, riddled with diamond embroidery. His usual choice of tunic was much simpler, but, for some reason, he’d chosen the most bejeweled outfit in his wardrobe. That had to have a purpose. Ta’Zan was not a slave to vanity.
He gave me a sideways glance as he moved toward the sliding double doors leading into the hallway. Suddenly, heat burst through me. I never liked his attention. It always bordered on creepy, and, given the circumstances, it could be a signal of something worse headed my way.
I was practically helpless here, and I still had the collar around my neck. I couldn’t talk to anyone, since I’d left the earpiece with Derek before Ta’Zan came to the dome, all storms and thunder. He’d isolated me from the rest of the pack, basically, and it had the intended effect on me. I was on edge and working hard not to give him the satisfaction of seeing my discomfort.
Instead, I took a seat on the ground and watched as the doors closed behind him.
A couple of hours later, as the sun moved to a higher point in the sky, Amal came in. She carried a syringe on a silver tray, her face straight and her orange eyes filled with secrets—some she’d probably never even shared with Ta’Zan. I’d met enough creatures in my lifetime to recognize the vibe of someone who kept secrets.
She stopped in front of my glass box. I narrowed my eyes at her and slowly got up.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I need some blood samples from you,” Amal replied.
“Why?”
“The usual, Sofia. Your vampire genes are the backbone of Perfects. Just because you were separated from the group doesn’t mean you’re any less important.”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms.
“When am I going back?” I retorted.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. When he’s less angry, I suppose. He’s doing this to punish you and Derek. He knows how close you are to one another, and he’s using it against you.”
“That’s more than obvious, thank you,” I said.
Amal sighed, clearly disappointed with my replies. I couldn’t care less. She’d screwed us before; I had no reason to trust her or take her at her word, anyway.
“I’m telling you so you don’t let it happen again,” Amal said. “Be a little wiser, Sofia. It’s not how you’ll get ahead in this world.”
“Sorry, I don’t take advice from Ta’Zan’s minions.”
She didn’t reply. Instead, she focused on her task and placed a hand on the glass. An opening formed, leaving room for her to put her hand through, the syringe ready to draw my blood. I pursed my lips, staring at it for a while.
“I don’t see why I should make it easier for you,” I muttered.
“Protocol Bell, five, seven, two, three,” she said.
It didn’t make sense, until a mild electrical current zapped through me and startled me. I froze, realizing what she’d just done.
“Vocal commands for the collar? Seriously?” I breathed.
Amal smirked. “I know all the codes, all the tricks and loopholes. If you want to make this harder on me, I’ll gladly reciprocate.”
I didn’t have much to say in return. Once more, I was at the mercy of my captors, and I hated it. I also had to comply, since I knew the shocks would only get worse if I resisted. At the same time, I was curious about what other so-called tricks and loopholes she knew—and whether she was disclosing them on purpose.
I put my arm out for her to draw the blood she needed from my wrist. She could’ve picked any other, better length of vein, but she seemed to prefer the wrist. It stung, and I bit my lower lip to stifle a gasp. She drew about two hundred milliliters, then moved back. The glass opening was sealed, and I was isolated once more.
Amal placed the syringe back on the tray, then walked away. She stopped in front of the doors but didn’t turn to look at me.
“I’ve put Isda in charge of your care. She’ll bring you blood soon,” she said. “Ta’Zan wanted to starve you, but I convinced him not to.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mumbled.
I had a hard time being friendly at this point, especially with Amal. Her kind of treachery was the worst, because she poisoned me with hope before stabbing me and my people in the back. The Faulties had obvious reasons not to trust her, even though she was one of their own. Amal was too devoted to Ta’Zan to think clearly. She’d saved Isda from getting destroyed like Monos and the other rebels who’d helped us, but I wasn’t sure she’d done it out of the kindness of her heart.
“I don’t need your thanks,” Amal replied. “I don’t need your judgment, either. I know exactly what I’m doing, and your irritating sense of righteousness won’t change that. In the meantime, I strongly advise you not to annoy Father anymore. He’s already on edge, and your people have tripled my workload since the ships were destroyed. Neither of us has any patience left for snark or threats.”
“What is he planning next?” I asked, though I was pretty sure that I wasn’t going to get an answer. Amal wasn’t the sharing kind. “Our people screwed up his flight plans pretty good.”
Amal didn’t move. I would’ve killed to see the look on her face, but I resigned myself to hearing the bitterness and irritation in her voice, instead.
“You didn’t screw anything up. You merely postponed the ships’ construction. We’ll start from scratch,” she said. “He only has me to rely on, as far as the blueprints and the ship mechanics are concerned. I’m training other Faulties to assist me. All you did was buy yourselves some time, but it won’t do you much good. Even with the towers down. You can chat amongst yourselves all you want, but it won’t change what’s coming. Our ships will rise, and our people will conquer the universe.”
“You continue to underestimate us.”
“No, I know exactly what you’re like, and, most importantly, I know what you’re up against. These little gimmicks that your people have managed to pull aren’t nearly enough to bring my father down. Up your game, or spend the rest of your lives inside the dome, like a
nimals in an enclosure.”
Amal left the room. I listened to the hiss of the doors closing behind her, wondering if there was any hidden meaning in her words. Was she actually encouraging us to try harder and take heavier measures against Ta’Zan, perhaps? Or was she just droning on about how undefeatable he was?
Without Amal’s honesty, I didn’t really have an answer. I only had enough patience to settle back on the floor and wait for Isda. She was going to help me. I didn’t expect her to get me out or anything, but she was capable of passing messages along between Derek and me.
Suddenly, I was baffled, left with a question I hadn’t thought of asking. Out of all the Faulties in this colosseum, why had Amal chosen Isda, specifically? She knew our history. She knew that Isda had helped us. What was the point?
Douma
I didn’t immediately open my eyes when I woke up. My instincts had warned me against it, since I remembered everything that had happened. I knew I was being watched, and, judging by the straps I’d felt tightened around my neck, waist, wrists, and ankles, I was heavily immobilized.
For a while, I just listened to the sounds around me. Computerized systems beeping, metal tools clanking, the sound of rushing water in a nearby basin, and footsteps. There weren’t that many of those. Judging by their pattern and sound, I counted two Faulties and one Perfect. The latter I instantly recognized by scent alone. Cassiel smelled of oceans crashing against the rocky shores and fragrant musk from the tops of desert cliffs.
When the ground had split open before us, back on Merinos, I’d had every intention of following Dmitri down the hole. Cassiel, however, had other plans. I hadn’t even seen it coming. One moment I was rushing to jump in, and the next, I’d been snatched like a small animal by a winged predator.
My heart ached. I didn’t like being away from Dmitri. From the moment I’d become aware of my existence, and in the absence of memories, I’d only had his face and his warm smile to comfort me. His sharp features and curious green eyes sent tingling sensations through my body, and his snappy comebacks made me smile a lot. Dmitri was my guide through this world, and despite my clearly superior physical abilities, I found myself in awe of him.
What he lacked in supernatural prowess, he certainly made up for with his intellect and sense of humor. He came from a happy family. He’d been a happy kid. He’d experienced the ups and downs of life already. He’d fallen, and he’d had to pick himself up, more than once. And to think I’d tried to snuff out his dreams and help Ta’Zan destroy his life by imprisoning him.
When I finally opened my eyes, I prayed to all the stars that they wouldn’t wipe my memories. I was terrified of the prospect, actually. I didn’t want to forget anything—I didn’t want to forget myself. Ta’Zan had no right to dictate what I could do or say, what I could forget or remember. I was not his tool.
I was inside a lab of some kind, with white crystal walls and a multitude of computer screens and large circuit blocks. Probably processing units, if I remembered correctly. Dmitri was really good with the tech stuff. I got most of it, but he was the crew’s genius. From what he’d told me, he, Phoenix, and Jovi formed the Techy Trinity of The Shade. That title always made me chuckle. I missed him already.
Two Faulties were monitoring my vitals on one of the screens. Wires were connected to the backs of my hands and my temples. I instantly recognized Amal, since she was a perfect copy of Amane, with her long white hair, her amber scales, and her bright orange eyes. She briefly glanced over and noticed that I was awake.
“Watch her,” she said to Cassiel, who was standing next to me, uncomfortably close to my head. I looked up at him and narrowed my eyes, wishing he could feel the hatred I harbored toward him.
He didn’t. He just grinned. “Morning, sunshine.”
“I swear, as soon as I get out of here, I will tear you apart and feed you to the turquoise tigers,” I snapped, suddenly furious enough to fight against my restraints. It was useless, but I’d managed to at least startle him.
“Easy on the aggression, Douma. Amal devised a new tranquilizer, and it knocks the living daylights out of you,” Cassiel replied.
“At least I won’t have to put up with your smug face!” I said.
“True, but the aftereffects are horrible, like hammers repeatedly bashing your head in.” Cassiel chuckled. “So simmer down, Douma. What comes next is inevitable.”
“You betrayed us all!” I said. “Elonora, Raphael, Nevis. They all trusted you! You helped them, even! How could you do all that? How could you turn on us the way you did?”
Cassiel lowered his head, his lips inches from my ears. “Bringing Ta’Zan down isn’t as easy as one, two, three. Breaking a couple of towers and burning down some ships won’t stop him. I’m not stupid, Douma. I know where I’m better off right now, and it’s not the losing side,” he whispered, as if not wanting the Faulties to hear him. Part of me told me not to give him away, in case he was, in fact, secretive toward them. He could be useful later, and I could eventually hold it as leverage against him. “That being said,” he added, then raised his voice for the others to hear, too, “you’re lucky that you’re wanted back here, Douma. Take advantage of this opportunity. Consider it a new beginning.”
“You’ve already stolen my new beginning,” I hissed.
“Listen, I’m not proud of all the lying and backstabbing I’ve had to do,” Cassiel replied, straightening his back. “It’s for the greater good, though. Our people deserve the best future, and we all have to pitch in. You included.”
“I want freedom. Nothing more, nothing less,” I retorted, struggling more against the restraints. I could feel the thick and harsh textile bands digging into my skin.
Cassiel placed a hand on my shoulder. “Stop struggling. You’re heavily medicated, anyway. You wouldn’t even be able to stand up.”
I immediately understood what he meant. Despite my ability to move and react against my restraints, there wasn’t much strength in my limbs. My muscles felt soft, like jelly. My head was pretty light, and the room started spinning as soon as I moved my head left and right. They’d drugged me to keep me under control.
“I’ll never forgive you for this,” I muttered.
“You don’t know me well enough to forgive anything,” Cassiel replied, smiling. “We’ve only just met.”
“It doesn’t matter. We’re the same people. We should be fighting together, not against each other.”
“Which is why you were brought back here,” he said.
“Dammit, it’s not what I meant!” I growled, rolling my eyes.
He knew what I’d meant, but he’d chosen to irk me, instead. Amal moved away from the monitor and came to my side. She motioned for Cassiel to step back. He did as instructed, while she pressed a button under the mattress I’d been lying on. The bed’s upper half bent upward, giving me a better, more upright view of this world.
The place was beautiful and pristine, and it smelled of wildflowers and sanitizing substances. It felt eerily familiar, as if I’d been here before. Technically speaking, I came from here, but I didn’t have any memories of the place. Dmitri was right, it seemed. One’s olfactory sense could trigger memories thought lost. I was definitely experiencing a bit of déjà vu here.
“Stop agitating her,” Amal said to Cassiel. “Father isn’t too happy with how you conducted yourself on this mission. Don’t make it any worse.”
Cassiel sighed. “Good grief, you’re aspiring to become a Ta’Zan yourself, huh?”
Amal blinked several times, then shifted her focus back to me. “Father will want to talk to you,” she said.
“He can talk all he wants. I’m not really the listening type,” I replied, prompting Cassiel to laugh lightly.
Amal shot him a deadly glance, then looked at the other Faulty. “Bring Father in. Douma is ready to see him.”
The Faulty didn’t wait to be told twice. She scuttled out of the room, leaving me with Amal and Cassiel. I took advantage of the tempo
rary silence to think about Dmitri and the others. Even without my memories, I could still be useful, and there was a part of me that ached to be with them, to guide and protect them. They needed me. And I needed them.
When the doors opened again, my stomach churned at the sight before me. Ta’Zan was tall and handsome, but there was a coldness about him that I couldn’t overlook. He made my blood curdle without even speaking. This wasn’t a feeling that a parent was supposed to inspire, especially in his children. No, he felt clinical. Dead inside.
“My darling, you’re back,” Ta’Zan said, the shadow of a smile fluttering across his face.
It didn’t do much for me. He still freaked me out, but I kept myself calm, quietly observing his every feature, trying to assess whatever I could at this first glance. He came closer, his eyes—strange, like Cassiel’s and Raphael’s, one blue and one green—fixed on me. Shivers ran down my spine.
“Cassiel, you’re no longer needed here,” Ta’Zan added, without looking away from my face. “Meet me in the ruby hall. We will talk some more.”
The sound of his voice wasn’t exactly encouraging, and Cassiel didn’t seem excited with the prospect of meeting him later. Nevertheless, he nodded, then left the room, leaving me with Amal and Ta’Zan. I was now more vulnerable than ever, and I hated it. All I could think of were ways of escaping, so I could get back to Dmitri. I couldn’t bear to be away from him. It wasn’t just the urge to protect him, though. There was something else that was calling to me, pulling me toward him. I just couldn’t figure out what it was, exactly.
Silence settled for a minute or so, while Amal checked something on a glass tablet—a computer I’d seen Amane use, as well. Ta’Zan gave me a warm smile, but it only made me more anxious.
“Douma, what do you remember?” he asked.
A Shade of Vampire 66: An Edge of Malice Page 5
