The City

by Rachael Byrd

  A hand closed over Myst's shoulder. She spun and looked straight into the black, smoky face of a terrible demoness. The Nightmare smiled at her, a cold sneer that only increased the cruel look of the black eyes. Long, needle-like fangs protruded from the lips pulled back in a snarl.

  The smoky skin paled, the fangs withdrew into the hateful mouth and blanched, and Myst found herself staring back into the warm, smiling face of her mother.

  "Where have you been? I've waited so long already for you to return to me. Why have you resisted for so long? You first felt the kiss on your neck so long ago, long before any of the transporters ever thought of the word ‘vampire', and yet you hesitate. You will join us soon."

  Myst froze for a moment, struggling to think of a way to respond to, when she noticed something odd about her mother's face.

  The skin was pale, sagging.

  Half of the flesh on her mother's face suddenly fell away from the grinning skull and tumbled to the ground where it lay in a stinking heap.

  Myst's eyes flickered from her mother's deformed face to the pile of putrid flesh on the ground. The air grew colder; frost formed on the slender stalks of corn and the hot mound of angel-skin steamed in the frosty night air. Myst looked back up at Trinity, bewildered, and found herself standing face to face with her dead mother, whose skull was tilted in the attitude of a kiss.

  The corn stalks burst into flame. The frost did not melt and Myst felt no heat coming from the hungry black conflagration. Heavy globes of crimson life rained down from the black sky above, splattering on the corn stalks and running down to feed the flames.

  A scream built in her throat but would not release. She couldn't run. Something was going to happen, something inevitable, but it might've been easier to face if she could've turned and run.

  The dead queen grasped Myst's shoulders and threw her body to the ground.

  But the ground wasn't there anymore.

  Myst gasped in surprise as her body sank into the chilly depths of a fast running river. She struggled to come back up for air but Trinity's hands closed over her face, forcing her under.

  Something grabbed her shoulders from beneath her. She struggled but it was too strong for her. She refused to surrender, but this was meaningless to her underwater captor. It dragged her deeper into the icy waters until she felt her lungs would burst, and everything went black.

  * * * *

  Flat green eyes, rimmed with red, opened on a cozy bedroom setting. The blonde thing stared for a moment at the boy sleeping there beside her, his auburn hair ruffled and spiked with sweat. Her cooling white hands closed around his throat, drawing him upward. He moaned and his eyes fluttered open. The boy looked up, his gaze still cloudy with sleep, his senses still weak and distorted.

  Aymir pulled back, whispery screams dying on his lips, but Myst's grip was too strong. The beautiful bar owner he'd fallen asleep beside was long gone; in her place was a two dimensional monstrosity. Her eyes were dark and empty; they drew him in and he was lost, hopelessly and mercifully gone. She arched her back over him, the knife forgotten on the floor.

  Her breath was hot and reeking against his neck but he was beyond noticing. Myst's body stank of corruption and there was no soul left to guide it; hunger was left alone. Long fangs sank like hypodermic needles into the soft skin of his neck, slipping smoothly between the tendons and cords of muscle. She held him there like that for a long time.

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  22

  Intrigue shuddered as something cold entwined itself around her mind. She was not quite asleep. She couldn't open her eyes or sit up and she felt certain that if she resisted, she would be forced under more quickly. She felt Crow's hand against hers. His breath was warm against her face. She allowed herself to fall.

  In the beginning, there was blackness. Intrigue felt herself standing in the middle of nothing, suspended only by her own knowledge that there was nowhere to go.

  A bright, burning sphere flashed across the nothing. She turned, her eyes following its path. It turned toward her, rushing toward her, and the light swelled until it was too bright to stand. She closed her eyes and the light engulfed her, then faded away.

  Thunder rocked through her body. Intrigue opened her eyes, seeing the blackness for a moment more before the atmosphere around her exploded with color. Ground flew up under her feet. Objects rained down from the sky, falling into an order that she realized she had anticipated.

  A black house thumped against the ground, landing unharmed about ten yards from her. The cool blue sky turned first purple, then red. Blood misted down from the cloudless sky, but the drops striking Intrigue's body were cold. The grass blackened and died beneath her feet. Black flames spurted spontaneously from the house where she'd spent most of her life. The house did not crumble as it had before. There was no roar of burning wood, of breaking timbers, of dying children. Everything was silent except the splatter of blood on the ground.

  "Gem, Gem!” A little child walked from the house, as perfectly innocent as she had been when Gemstone killed her. “Help me, Gem! Why won't you help me?"

  As Intrigue watched, a bullet hole appeared in Hera's chest, followed by one in her forehead . The child did not glance down, did not hesitate. Blood spurted from the wounds, splashing down the child's body, then ceased. Snow clung to Hera's face and her eyes were lined with frost. Her blue lips parted in a threatening sneer as she moved closer.

  "Why wouldn't you help me, Gem?"

  The body aged and decayed as it walked forward. Hera kept babbling on but Intrigue was too preoccupied to listen. She kept glancing at the dead girl's hand, waiting for the inevitable. Soon, she supposed, whoever was in charge would decide to start playing games.

  Hera's flesh crumbled and melted away, followed shortly after by her skeleton. The bones crumbled to yellowing dust on the ground. A transparent, ghostly figure kept walking toward Intrigue. Hera's innocent face was twisted in a brutal sneer and she stopped short, barely ten feet from Intrigue.

  "You watched my blood run over the ground; you smiled and thought everything was all right. You left me here to rot in Mara's land, and you took Mara's child with you to ruin someone else's life."

  The ghost child pulled a metallic weapon from nowhere—the bizarre gun that Gemstone had used to kill Hera.

  Hera pulled the trigger twice. Intrigue saw the metallic spheres rushing toward her, then they were gone. Hera giggled, a soft, childish sound that soon gave way to a hyena's brutish cackle. She tilted her head back and flesh began to reassemble itself around her ghostly form.

  Crystal's head sat atop the furry, malformed body of a wolfish creature. Same two bullet holes, right where they would have been in Hera. Intrigue stood still, absorbing this information quietly.

  Panic snatched her a heartbeat later. Something was behind her, coming for her, driving her toward the apparition. Intrigue sprinted toward the house where black flames still shot up from the roof. Hera cackled, waving her on.

  The door opened too easily and Intrigue slipped it closed behind her. There was a quiet thud and she realized that the scene had changed yet again. This was not her house. The grey floor was warped with age and coated with a thick layer of dust. An ancient staircase ascended on her right. Yellowed lights glowed softly above them.

  Whatever had driven her to the house was now in the house. Intrigue crept up the stairs, careful to be silent, her heart in her throat.

  There was a hallway at the top of the stairs, lined by doors on either side at regular intervals. Moths fluttered lazily around the soft yellow lightbulbs and Intrigue's stomach tightened. Phoenyx's name was written on the wall in deep maroon letters that were easily four feet tall.

  An enormous grey rat poked its head out of the wall, squeaking insistently. It vanished a moment later and something appeared on the floor—a carton of broken eggs leaking over the floor, a spilled quart of milk, and a loaf of bread. An ominous shadow fell over her. Fear pressed its lips against her
s, drawing her breath away, and Intrigue glanced up.

  A huge brute of a man stood over her, his lips hanging slackly. His face was gaunt, his expression vague. With Intrigue's next breath, the scent of booze and vomit became overpowering. His sallow skin was yellowed by cigarette smoke and his beady eyes stared hungrily at her from the loose flesh of his face.

  His expression was decidedly vacant. A bloody handprint was smeared across the sickly mound of flesh that scarcely passed for a face. A sudden draft swept through the hallway, revealing three long tears in the weathered grey fabric of his shirt. Through the gaping shirt, Intrigue saw deep gashes in the monster's body. Maggots wriggled in the putrid lacerations and the surrounding flesh was rotting away.

  Her heartbeat quickened and she looked up at him, realizing for the first time that the slackness of his face was more than age or drugs. She could see the black, fuzzy mold that was eating away at one side of his face, and the powerful scent that hung like a heavy fog was more than booze and dope.

  She was standing in the doorway of a dead man.

  Intrigue took a step backward, slipping in the puddle of eggs. She hit the floor hard and her breath fled. The creature looming above her giggled and leered back down at her, revealing a sparse collection of teeth, yellowed and decaying.

  As she watched, the teeth lengthened into rotting fangs, long and thin as hypodermic needles. He took a step toward her, and fur sprouted from his body. His shoulders hunched and he staggered toward her. Bloodshot yellow eyes mocked her from under a shaggy mane. The sagging, sallow face lengthened and stretched, the dog-like snout opening in a grimace.

  Intrigue caught a foothold against a warped, graying floorboard and propelled herself backward. She tumbled down the stairs, her fear unable to muffle the sounds of the monster following behind her.

  She hit the floor hard, but there was no time to breathe. Intrigue stumbled to her feet and raced to the door. It was stuck.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the maddened look in the hideous yellow eyes, the snarl of satisfaction smeared across the wolfish face that was bristling with long, grey hair, the massive rotting claws that curled from the too-large hands and feet. From above them, she heard the piteous sounds of a child sobbing.

  Intrigue darted to her left and darkness closed over her. Her mind racing, she struggled to remember what would free her from this.

  The paws closed around her. The creature lifted her up into the air, razor claws digging furrows tight into her skin. She closed her eyes, sure she was about to die.

  The pressure stopped suddenly. She felt the warm, soft skin of gentle arms wrapped around her waist and realized that her eyes were closed.

  She was sitting on a bed, Crow's arms wrapped around her. Warm sunlight streamed through an open window. Startled, she pulled away. Crow didn't resist; he didn't even seem to notice she had moved.

  No, that wasn't quite right; he didn't seem to notice that she was there. His arms fell limply to his sides and Crow stood up, walking to the window. He leaned over the windowsill, his eyes closed as he whispered into the darkness.

  The darkness? Night had completely overtaken daylight in the blink of an eye; Intrigue's mind was struggling to keep up.

  "I still can't find what keeps me here. I know you're still there. I'm still bound by the life I left behind, but I can't remember. And would you even remember me? We've both been lost for so long. From what, I don't know."

  The moonlight streaming over his face gave him a solemnly mournful appearance. Intrigue put her hand on his shoulder. “Crow, can you hear me?” she whispered.

  She touched his hand and for a moment, she was sure he felt her there. Crow sighed and rested his forehead against the glass of the open window.

  "I look in the mirror, and I can sometimes see your face,” he whispered. “I can't remember your name. Each morning, Caele looks at me so coldly. It's as though she knows, as though she remembers what I can't ... Just let me find you."

  The temperature dropped and Intrigue hugged him gently, wondering if he was all right. Warmth flushed her hands and Intrigue recoiled.

  Her hands were dripping with fresh blood. Crow turned slowly.

  His face was beautiful. He had attained a physical perfection which should have been divine. The porcelain skin was flawless, and his icy blue eyes stared straight into hers. He was not Crow.

  "Angel?"

  "Do you miss the winter, love?"

  Angel snatched her and held her body tight against his. His fingers knotted themselves in Intrigue's hair and he pulled, tilting her face up to his. Snarling, his shoved his mouth against hers. Intrigue's heart quivered in her throat; she tried to pull away but her muscles were frozen.

  He dropped her body and grabbed her hands, suddenly clean of blood. Angel stared at her, his eyes a fierce glacial blue, and Intrigue had the sensation that he could see every thought and sensation that ran through her mind.

  His perfect mouth pulled into an odd expression that was neither snarl nor smile, but a hideous combination of both. Pointed fangs glistened in the moonlight, and he lifted her in his arms.

  "You'll not walk away from us like this, Gemstone. Perhaps the others see you as Intrigue now; perhaps you see yourself as her, but I can remember.” He hauled her closer, his nose pressed up against hers. “I can remember the other side of the river, Gemstone. I can remember when I was the Angel of Anger and I remember how you destroyed our world, our life. Do you prefer this world?"

  The room around them melted and he was still holding her. He stood perfectly still, his feet resting on the surface of an enormous lake. The water glittered black in the darkness; the moon cast its silver glare across the gentle waves. The black sky stretched forever above them and massive pines stood sentry at the edges of the lake.

  He bent toward her again and she pulled back.

  "What's wrong, love? You won't even kiss your Angel?"

  He dropped to his knees on the surface of the lake and forced her under. The shock of the cold water against her skin made her head throb. She struggled to come back up for air but his hands were unyielding. Water flooded into her mouth and nose and Intrigue fought the urge to inhale.

  The panic began to subside as the pain increased. She stared up through the clear water, and realized that the face above her was not that of Angel, but of Crow.

  In that instant, she felt another pair of hands close around her shoulders, pulling her up out of the water. She heard Angel's infuriated shriek, but she was struggling, kicking up toward the surface.

  * * * *

  Her eyes flew open, and her hands flew to her throat. She gasped for air, tumbling off the side of the couch. Crow put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, restraining her.

  "Intrigue? Are you all right?"

  Instinctively, she pulled away from him. Seeing the wounded look in his eyes, she paused.

  "Did you wake me?"

  "You looked ... frightened, afraid. You said my name; I thought you were having a nightmare..."

  "He came for me, Crow, and I know what it means. Arjuna was right. They are turning into something worse, and I almost...” She shuddered, unable to finish her sentence. “I need some of that oil, I think."

  "You can't resist it alone?"

  "It wasn't a choice, Crow. A few more seconds...” Her voice drifted off. “I wonder if it's the same for the others. Do they have a dream? Does it ... rob them of their souls somehow?"

  "I don't know. Should we wake the others?"

  She paused, torn between having to wake the others and possibly letting one of them succumb to what she'd just experienced. The discussion earlier had not ended well and tempers were running high, but things could get far worse if she did nothing. Still, though...

  "Do you think it'd wake one of us if someone did ... whatever I just did?"

  "I think so."

  Intrigue nodded. The others needed their sleep and she was sure that it was rough on Crow, Caele, and Talon to have to sleep during
daylight hours.

  "Intrigue?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I think I love you."

  She paused, watching him with raised eyebrows. He'd not acted unusual earlier; there had been nothing to precede such a wild statement.

  "Is that a joke?"

  "No."

  She hesitated, frowning. He was still human and she intended to keep it that way. Did she feel anything for him? She rolled back onto her side, not facing him.

  "Go back to sleep, Crow."

  * * * *

  He watched her sadly for a moment longer, feeling déjà vu and a miserable sense of incompletion; she wasn't supposed to have reacted like that. He didn't know why he'd said that; he'd not known her for so long as twenty-four hours, but it had felt like getting back in touch with one's best friend after they had been removed for a year or two. Not knowing what other choice he could possibly have, he turned away from her and fell asleep. His eyes had barely closed before dreams of a thin, pale girl with black eyes and indomitable spirit began to play over in his mind again.

  * * * *

  "I think I love you.” Tyrhennia mocked him, rolling her eyes. She'd have to move quickly; discovery would be a tragedy.

  She scanned the room, considering where to start. She knew where she'd like to start: the damned girl, Caele. Caele and Adrienne had been the undisputed leaders only a day before, but after the discussion the previous evening, she was fairly certain that Intrigue had taken charge. She was not entirely sure yet where Intrigue stood, only that she'd swallowed Arjuna's speech hook, line, and sinker.

  Arjuna. He was weak already, surviving only on heavy doses of oil. But what after him? Her hunger was strong this evening. Tyrhennia had been completely honest with the others. She had no real desire for human blood; it was vamp blood that she craved.

  Carmine? Belle? Adrienne? Perhaps, but not yet. Kshatriya was strong, and there was something almost frightening about him. He'd realize what had happened, and that would be the end of her happy existence. Aurelius? He was sleeping contentedly beside Adrienne, his arm around her shoulder. Adrienne feel the change in him. Perhaps he would be an eventual target, but it was too dangerous for now. Caligula? No. Just not tempting enough. Jonathon? And see the weakness in those beautiful eyes the next evening? Never. Hadrian? He had annoyed her, but his art was fantastic.