by Rachael Byrd
"Angel?"
"He's a—"
"I know who he is,” she muttered.
Crow raised an eyebrow. “Get me out of here. We can talk this morning and I'll lead you to the Chaotics tomorrow night. Do you have a Den?"
"Yes.” Intrigue tore her claws downward through the chain link fence, then stepped away.
Crow peeled the metal back, then proceeded to work at the lock on the second cage. “You want to help me? You can get them out a lot faster than I can."
"You're with the Chaotics?"
"Already said that. Help me."
Intrigue hurried down the aisles, stripping the fence off the supporting bars as she went. Humans and vampires huddled in corners as far from her as they could get, staring up at the newly made exits with wide, uncomprehending eyes.
The girl in the last cage shifted her weight from foot to foot, all but hopping behind the fence that held her back. Intrigue froze as she lifted her claws. She'd intended to sever the fence and leave quickly but her curiosity pled with her to pause, and so she did.
The girl's hair was a long, golden-brown waterfall that shone radiantly beneath the restlessly flickering lights. Her skin was dark and coppery but it was her eyes that held Intrigue momentarily captive.
There was no trace of white in them. The ring of gold extended almost to the sooty line of her lashes, and was surrounded by a narrow strip of black. Her pupils were elongated black almonds, giving her eyes an eerily cunning, catlike look.
"Please let me out!"
"Where would you go, cat?"
The girl pulled back as if burned. “I'm human. Get me out of here."
The others were scurrying surreptitiously out of their pens, glancing over their shoulders, but Intrigue paid them no mind. “I mean to push back the tide; you may yet have time to live as you are. What is it that colors your eyes like that?"
She shrugged. “Life. I doubt you remember real life, vampira, but if you have some remnant of your soul left, set me free."
Intrigue pulled her claws slowly through the chain links, delighting in the screech of the metal as it protested her abuse. The girl stepped out of the cage, not pushing past her, but not cringing in fear either.
"My name is Talon, and I'm long overdue at Asylum."
"Asylum?"
Talon froze. “Are you a Chaotic?"
"Yes."
"I've said too much. I'll be on my way."
"What's Asylum?"
"A place you'll never see, love.” A hand closed over Intrigue's shoulder, and she spun to look into the Aymir's olive eyes. His skin was pale, sweaty, and translucent in the unflattering light, and his rich red-brown hair was tousled. Intrigue took one look at his sweat-beaded brow and wondered why he had bothered to show up. She tossed him deftly to the floor.
"I'll see it if I wish, Aymir."
He grinned, his lips spreading slowly into a malicious snarl as he stood back up. “Maybe. I don't think so, though. I could take care of you myself, but I don't want to damage the goods, now...” He frowned, his eyes flicking to her shoulder as he pulled a stake from his pocket. “And where's the mark of the slave?"
His smile broadened as his eyes flickered to Talon. “I didn't forget you, Talon. Why waste your talents serving the vampires in Asylum? I've got my own house; I'm a second term recruiter. Come with me, whore. I'll keep you safe."
Talon spit in his face. Aymir's expression contorted and he lunged up at Talon, his mouth working furiously. Intrigue stepped forward, caught him by the throat, and hurled him aside. He howled as he flew through the air and an alarm brayed. Aymir stayed where he had fallen, red welts rising on his throat where the claws had caught his skin.
Intrigue turned, instantly noticing that the heavy metal door had locked itself from the outside; the only way out was the way they'd entered. The wailing alarm rose in volume and Intrigue hesitated grabbed Talon around her waist, tossing her lightly over her shoulder.
"Hold on,” Intrigue whispered.
She rushed forward, scrambling up the wall toward the air duct. Holding on with only one hand now, she reached over her shoulder and grabbed Talon's shoulder, careful not to sink the claws into the other girl's skin. She pulled her forward, tossing Talon roughly ahead into the black square of the duct. Talon howled as she collided with the dismantled vent cover but Intrigue had no time to worry about whether the girl had hurt herself. She dropped back to the floor.
The alarm screeched with hideous intensity but Intrigue could clearly hear the thunder of numerous footfalls now. They were coming and Aymir would direct them back to catch her. She didn't have time to help Crow.
She sprang forward to him anyway, skidding and turning. Not hesitating, he leapt onto her back, tightening his knees around her ribs and supporting his weight against her shoulders rather than her throat. She returned to the wall, climbing with ever-increasing fervor. The door burst open beneath her and she heard Aymir's shouts. The surprised roar of the vampires was thunderous and one voice rose above all the others.
She lunged forward into the duct, flipping Crow over her shoulders as she did so and forcing him along ahead of her.
"No!” Talon's voice, up ahead.
Intrigue shoved Crow against the bottom of the grate and crawled impatiently over him. She grabbed Talon and lunged into the cool night air. Intrigue pulled Talon onto her shoulders as she fell and caught most of the shock with her legs when she landed. Talon tumbled off Intrigue's back and onto the ground with a heavy thud. Intrigue barely heard it; she was halfway back up the wall by the time Talon hit the ground.
Crow soared over her head and it took Intrigue a moment to realize that the boy hadn't waited for her; he had hurled himself out of the shaft. She leapt away from the building, caught him, and dropped him neatly on the ground. Intrigue grabbed his wrist and hauled him up after her.
A door flew open barely three yards from the group, and vampires poured into the night. “Up!” Intrigue shouted
Crow sprang back onto her back but Talon hung back. Intrigue snatched the girl and tossed her halfway over her shoulder. She took off running for the tree cover, scarcely slowed by the weight of her passengers. The thunder of vampires’ footfalls roared behind her. Intrigue maneuvered easily ahead of them, pushing herself for more.
"Intrigue!” The thunder subsided.
Intrigue hesitated, though her mind howled at her to disappear into the night. The shout was repeated—she recognized that voice. It was Angel.
She kept running.
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15
"What's Asylum?"
They were sitting together in the forest, near the black house. Intrigue had considered taking them there before realizing that Talon was already affiliated with someone—it could well be a vampire's organization and she was not in the least moved to reveal her whereabouts to them. She had removed her claws and they were crossed and hanging over her back.
The story came out little by little. Intrigue was well aware that there was not much time to spare; it was well after midnight, and she could almost feel the sunlight's threat against the horizon. Talon had nervously explained that Asylum was a bar and she had been forced there to work by necessity. Crow gently explained the second function of Asylum and Talon had hesitantly admitted to being one of the seven of Asylum's mistresses.
After nearly ten minutes of quiet discussion, Intrigue decided that she would be forced to allow Talon to return to Asylum—but that didn't mean she'd let the establishment stand.
"We'll take you back to Asylum."
Talon's eyes widened with relief and surprise, but there was something else—sadness and hurt?—beneath the glimmering gold rings.
"How vital is Asylum to the vampires?"
"In terms of trade? Not particularly. Most of them prefer the drinks to what they can get elsewhere; the Asylum's stuff is cheap but expertly mixed. Myst manufactures her own liquor. She's one of the richest shopkeepers in The City."
&
nbsp; "Visited by many important vampires?"
Talon sighed. “Downstairs or up?"
"Either. Both."
"I don't think there's a decent Nest leader who hasn't had a few drinks downstairs; Myst makes a point of serving them well. Upstairs...” She clenched her jaw for a moment, tears glittering in her eyes. “Yes—recruiters in particular. I can't count the number of times Aymir's come to my room."
"Aymir ... and Angel?"
"What use would he have for a place like Asylum? If Phoenyx displeases him, I'm sure there are plenty of young slaves who would be happy to take her place."
Intrigue's face remained impassive. “All right, then. What is there to raid there?"
Talon chuckled derisively. “Raid? Intrigue, if you have illusions of some glorious liberation of Asylum, you're off-track."
"I just want to know what's there that could be taken from the vampires."
"Her breweries. That's all I can think of, unless you want to stake a few vampires while you're there.” She lowered her voice and her eyes. “The ladies upstairs would be loathe to leave; the pay is good. And..."
Intrigue leaned forward, eager. “And?"
"There are a few Chaotics who drop in now and then. I can usually recognize them when I come downstairs. They usually don't order drinks with human blood, but when they do, they empty them into one of the bottles of Vomit when no one's looking. They're terribly devious. I don't know what they're there for; I think I'm the only human who lives upstairs. None of them have ever attempted to rescue me.” Her voice trembled, but she pressed on. “Not that I want rescued. I could leave. It's just the pay, you know?” She paused. “There might be one other human upstairs; I'm not sure. At least four are vampires."
"And the fifth? The math doesn't add out ... if two of you might be human and four are vampires, that's six..."
"Lord knows what the other girl is. Hideous, monstrous thing. No one ever comes for her sober; sometimes Myst sends one of the really drunk ones to her. I don't know why she doesn't just replace her."
Intrigue toyed with the stake Angel had given her, then nodded and stood up. “We're going."
Crow frowned at her, uncertain. “We?"
"Would you like to stay with me? I can't just leave you alone here, in good conscience. I helped you; I'm at least partially responsible for your continued life."
"I'm not a Chaotic."
"Of course you're not; you're not completely dead. Undead. Whatever we are. Would you like to stay with me, or would you like to try to go ... home?” Intrigue frowned at the dim lights of The City, trying to imagine what it would be to be freed from the Warehouse only to scurry back to your house and try to live a normal life. She couldn't see it.
"Go home? When I've got the chance to help stop the spread of this awful disease?"
She smiled broady. “All right, then. Lead the way, Talon."
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16
"It was a brilliant effort, Angel."
Melissa's ice-chip eyes smoldered in the darkness. Her hair had been trimmed to shoulder length and she'd lost a considerable amount of weight.
"They escaped, Melissa. No effort is brilliant when it fails so severely."
"Oh? And how many Chaotics were there?"
"Intrigue. Just her."
Melissa frowned. “Really, sir? She owes you so much. You brought her here and gave her a house, food ... freedom. And she walked out on us..."
Angel frowned but didn't turn away. “You agree with me, Melissa? Phoenyx does not. She has not set foot into the Haven since you and Intrigue arrived."
"The Haven?"
Angel shrugged. “Most Nest leaders keep them to house a number of vampiras. Phoenyx alone has rights to my Haven. Intrigue would have been brought in had she not turned out to be Chaotic."
Melissa nodded, relaxing against the walls and falling deeper into shadow. “I thought she was my friend. I met her in the Shop and I thought we would be loyal to you together. I'd prayed for you to come and rescue me and when you came for the pair of us, I thought you were a gift from God."
"Did you? And was she looking forward to living a good life as a slave?"
"I don't know ... she wasn't really conscious for very long before you came to get her. She seemed odd, though. She thought she saw a little human girl looking in through the Shop's windows."
Angel nodded, moving closer to her. Broken starlight glittered in her hair.
"What hopes did she seem to have for her future?"
"I don't know."
He nodded and leaned against the wall. If he half-closed his eyes, he could imagine that Melissa's hair was red, that her eyes were green, and that her name was Intrigue. “You're so new to Nest life, Melissa. Would you like to see Phoenyx's Haven?"
She arched an eyebrow. “Certainly."
He led her slowly down the red plush carpet and they continued their discussion. Their conversation concerning Intrigue's past wrapped up quickly as he proceeded to give Melissa the details of the raid on the Warehouse.
The Haven basked in candlelight. The walls were black, splashed in places metallic crimson, gold, and silver. Votives burned in clusters and candle holders on the walls stretched their elegant arms outward to hold the taper candles in place. There were two rows of twenty canopy beds, each all but concealed by translucent overhangs of black and red netting. The room was clean and the candles were fresh but the air was musty with the scent of neglect; no one had been here recently. At the far end of the room, one bed stood alone, perpendicular to the others. The diaphanous curtains shone with every color imaginable. It was toward that bed that he led her.
Angel pushed her back through the folds of gauze, his eyes a dark, haunted blue shot through with stark flashes of cold mint-green and glacial violet. The tortured soul cavorting behind those flat artist's palates had receded; the creature left behind was soulless, damned and monstrous. His skin was white and supple, his cheeks lightly colored. His mouth yawned open, short fangs stretching toward his bottom lip and glistening with tainted saliva.
"And for you, Melissa Drake. What is it that you longed for when you sat huddled in your pen in the Shop?” He pulled her shirt slowly open, thoughtfully, leaving the white skin of her throat and shoulders exposed. “Was it for one of the Chaotics to come and rescue you? Was it for freedom?"
She smiled, arching her back and wriggling further back along the bed. “The blessed freedom that comes from loyalty, my Angel.” Melissa looked into those deep, soulless eyes, into their silvery depths lined with death and plague, and her mind went blank.
His blood red lips were striking against the unmarked white of his incisors. Their needle tips pricked her throat, drawing the first beads of blood, and she moaned, arching her body up against him. He slid the full lengths of his incisors into her throat, cutting cleanly into an artery and her fear was mixed with a sweet pain. His fangs were cold, his poison was arctic, but the pain was hot, real, and intense. His cold, dead hands moved along the length of her hot, writhing body, and he taught Melissa the first lesson of the vampires: not all deaths come quickly.
He would need to feed on her many times before bringing her fully into the circle of the night, but she had already been pulled into the Haven that was no longer fully Phoenyx's. The mattress groaned through the hours, and Angel's only regret was that Intrigue's death had not happened so slowly. Her blood had been sweeter still.
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17
Aymir smiled drunkenly. The events of earlier in the night had left him shaken but he was back in his favorite hideaway, drinking with the more important political figures and hitting on the lady of the bar.
For once going against her own creed, she had begun to tip the bottle as well, and her breath was heavy with vodka. White Russians had been one of her favorites in life; now it was a stream of Red Russians that lacquered her throat. She had found that the cream, vodka, and blood blended well to form a drink that was
as potent as it was flavorful.
Barely half an hour later, Aymir led the tipsy bar owner up the stairs, toward her room. There was a brilliant flush of heat in Myst's stomach and Aymir seemed oblivious to the danger.
Her room was cool and dark but Aymir was sweating heavily as he pushed her back onto the floor. He was after her in a flash, biting at her throat.
Trembling with eagerness, Aymir leaned back for a moment, away from Myst's encouraging hands and clicking fangs. He reached into his pocket and found a small silver scalpel which he slipped into Myst's hand. Not missing a beat, she sliced open the skin below his throat, crying out as the wound darkened and spilled. She pulled him back down, her mouth wide to receive the blood that slicked his chest.
Downstairs, a long, pained howl silenced all of Asylum's drinking patrons. It was not the scream of one of the girls in pain and Aymir and Myst were silent in their exchange.
One of the brewers burst in through a back door. His face was ashen and tortured; his nose had been severed completely from his face and a tree branch protruded from the left side of his chest. His heart had not been pierced; he was still walking, but the blood leaking over his shirt was ominously dark.
"Fire!"
He dropped on the floor, his blood splattering up onto several of the bar stools. The branch was forced backward into his heart, and the floor suddenly gleamed with black. The patrons of the bar stood quickly, disconcerted and frightened, and stampeded toward the door. The smell of burning alcohol flooded the room through the open door. Asylum wasn't afire, perhaps, but the breweries were.
Intrigue stepped in through the door over the corpse of the vampire. She was silhouetted by the flames behind her: a tall, slender, radiant villainess whose hair shone like fire before the fury of the inferno of her creation. The silhouette of her left hand was grotesquely extended; she had strapped claws onto her wrist. In her right hand, she clutched the stake given to her by Angel.
She entered the vacating room slowly, seeing no one who caught her attention immediately. There were no important vampires here, not tonight. A single figure stepped forward to meet her and Intrigue paused, unsure for the first time since the memory of Gemstone had come to her.
