Zinnia put her hand on her belly. “I lost two,” she said. “They were in there together, so the midwife said it was good, because…you know.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Having two at once is bad, and I’d be cursed.”
“And then the boy thought she was cursed anyway, even though her body threw the cursed babies out, and she had to come back here,” said Poppy. She leaned forward to rub Zinnia’s belly. “Which we like anyway, since now she’ll have a baby to play with mine. And her new boyfriend is nicer anyway.”
“Gwen?”
Gwen shrugged. “I had one. By accident. But he died after almost a year.”
“Wow. You guys all have so many friends and boys and everything. And kids.”
Poppy laughed. “That’s what you’re supposed to do. And don’t worry, we’ll show you around and you’ll have a boyfriend in no time. So, were there any cute boys in the restaurants? Did you have any babies?”
“No, they wouldn’t let boys and girls sleep in the same rooms. They didn’t want us to have babies.”
“Why not? Babies are the best.”
“Because they wanted us to be in the restaurant all night so Superiors could always feed from us.”
“That’s okay, we’ll find you a boy, and you’ll have a baby like all us do. That’s how you get out of here, if they like you enough and you have enough babies. Then someone will buy you.”
Cali looked at her mama, who’d had a lot of babies and was still there. And now she’d gotten older and probably wouldn’t have any more babies. And no Superior had ever bought her, and probably none ever would. Even if a Superior did buy one of them, they wouldn’t be free. But she didn’t have the heart to tell Poppy, who looked at her with those kid eyes. She was only thirteen. She’d have lots of time to figure out that no one was free.
20
Draven had never dined with a Second Order Superior before. In fact, Seconds rarely conversed with him, and never outside of business. He wasn’t sure what to expect, how to appear. He didn’t know anyone he could ask, either, since he didn’t know anyone who had encountered a similar situation. The orders didn’t mix. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen a member of the First Order.
He dressed in his nicest clothing, which was not very nice, even after his attempts at improvement. In the car, he punched in the address Byron had given him and waited for the map to squiggle onto the screen on the Mert’s dash. Following the directions, he arrived punctually. He had only been inside a few houses in his life, and never one as nice as the Enforcer’s. After following the driveway up a small incline, he parked near the end of the circle so he could continue downhill upon his departure. The circular drive had a wall about the height of Draven’s shoulders, made of red brick like the drive. The bricks under his feet, arranged in a circular pattern around the small island of greenery in the center of the drive, continued up the steps and along the pathway to the front door.
Draven started up the walkway, worrying he’d not dressed according to the correct manner of Seconds. He looked like what he was—a poor man wearing his best attire, making an inadequate attempt to appear better than he was so he might impress someone better than he was.
He arrived atop the sloping walkway and stepped onto the porch. He hesitated, took a deep breath, straightened his shirt, and tapped on the keypad to announce his presence.
The tall woman who opened the door was younger than Draven had expected, only a few years older than he, attractive but thinner than the current curvaceous ideal for Superior women. Women like her looked fresh no matter their age, necessary to staying married for hundreds of years, he imagined.
“You must be Draven.” She took his hand in both of hers and smiled as she greeted him. “I’m Marisol. It’s so nice to meet you. My husband talks about you all the time. Won’t you come inside and join us?”
“You’ve a lovely home, sir,” he said as he followed her inside. Her hair, pinned up and veiled in intricate gold netting on the front, presented him with a small shock when she turned. A section of thick, dark waves tumbled down the center of her back. He tried not to think about the blatant lack of modesty it conveyed, but it drew his attention nonetheless, a pathway that led the eye down the sway of her lower back to the swell of her buttocks and the secret entrance hidden there. He looked away from her hair, uncomfortable with such a sexual display on his friend’s wife and his inability to control his thoughts when he saw it.
“Did you have any trouble finding it?” she asked.
“Finding what?” he asked, still thinking about where her hair led his thoughts. “Oh—no. No trouble. None at all. I look forward to meeting the rest of your family, sir. What I’ve met thus far has been quite pleasant.” He tried to shine his mind, but it had been seduced against his will by someone he could never have. Even if she hadn’t been a Second, women like her scared him a bit.
She laughed and gave her hair a subtle toss, as if to punctuate his compliment. She led him into a living area roughly the size of his entire apartment. Byron sat in a heavy chair that matched the rest of the furniture. He set his cigarette on the edge of an ashtray and stood when Draven entered.
“Please, sir, keep your seat,” Draven said, bowing his head in greeting. “I am very much obliged to you for the invitation. Your home is impressive. I am honored to be present.”
Byron gave a wry smile and sat. “At ease, soldier. We’ve been friends half a year. You can relax. I’m not your superior while you’re visiting. Just your host. Have a seat, here, have a cigarette.”
Though Draven hadn’t smoked in quite some time, he accepted, uncertain of the protocol in the situation. Already he had dressed too formally and had spoken that way, as well. Byron leaned forward and lit the cigarette between Draven’s lips, then studied him as they sat smoking. Draven found the scrutiny unnerving. He hoped he wasn’t offending his host in some way. Perhaps he should not have accepted the first offer of something so expensive.
“You have met my wife?” Byron said at last.
“Yes, sir,” Draven said, nodding. “She is lovely. And your children, sir, are they around?”
“They’re out collecting our dinner.”
“Pardon me?”
“Our livestock are quartered out back. Some people keep them inside, I know, but I really detest the smell. I don’t even let ours inside to work or clean like most people. I’d rather have a messy house where I can breathe than a clean one with the stench of cattle.”
“Your house is far from messy, sir. Quite the contrary.”
“Yes, the little ones can’t work, so they take care of the house while my wife and I are working. And they don’t mind the sapiens’ smell as much, either. They’re like pets to the children, I’m afraid.” Byron shook his head and smiled in an indulgent manner, as if to say children had a mind of their own. Draven didn’t know any children so he didn’t know what kind of mind they had.
They served no purpose as far as he could tell. They couldn’t work, and they didn’t produce anything, not even sap—they were less useful than sapiens. And yet, Byron’s children would outrank Draven by default. If they ordered him to do something, by law he must obey. Draven liked being part of the Hundred Year Peace, but sometimes he wished it would end simply so a Fourth Order could be created and he could rise from the bottom. But he would always be subject to the law, and the law stated he must obey all Second Order commands, even if the member of the Second Order happened to have been five years old when she evolved.
“So your children take care of your saps?” he asked his host.
“Not take care of them, exactly. Sapiens can take care of themselves, except when they get sick. They don’t need much—eating, sleeping, water, and toileting. These things they’re capable of on their own. The children are bringing in the sap for our dinner.”
“You don’t tap them directly?”
“Not if I can help it. I’ve grown to where I can hardly stand to touch them. T
he children don’t mind, though, and the ones I have are well-trained and give what’s needed without argument,” Byron explained. “Have you worked with other kinds of livestock, Draven?”
“Yes, sir. Once I inspected incoming goats, and I’ve tended the llamas once, and vicunas and sheep and alpacas several times over the years.”
“It sounds like you’ve had an interesting array of jobs.”
Draven shrugged. He’d never have a good job, no matter how many different ones he had. He’d always have Third jobs. “I like animals, sir. And I like what they give us. I’ve worked in all stages of the process, from the animals to the clothes in the store.”
“I guess that’s an admirable thing, a person who can be so adaptable. I myself could never stomach working with smelly animals, no matter what they give us.”
“After a bit, you stop noticing the scent. They only smell…natural. It goes with them, like the savory of sap goes with saps. And I like that we can use their coats without harming them.”
Byron laughed. “Ah, so you’ve never worked with the pigs.”
“No, never. As far as I know, saps take care of their own pigs.”
“I guess that’s so. A sap is just one step up from a pig or cow, though. They’re like cows who milk themselves. It does make things convenient for our family, or we wouldn’t have them at all.” Byron stood. “The children are bringing in the food. Come, let’s eat.”
“I’d like to see the living arrangements you have made for the saps. Perhaps after we’ve eaten?”
Byron gave him a sharp look and his eyebrows drew together. Draven cursed himself silently. He hadn’t known the proper etiquette for asking to view a man’s livestock—perhaps the question itself showed a lack of manners.
“Are you thinking of procuring livestock for yourself?” Byron asked.
“I have toyed with the idea lately. If I could save enough money, perhaps.”
“We’ll talk more after dinner. I have something to share that might be of interest to you regarding such a purchase,” Byron said quietly, his frown still in place.
Draven, uncomfortable after his obvious offense, hoped he would not be punished monetarily for his unintentional misstep. But that would likely happen. He could never quite manage to get ahead. Sometimes he started saving, but something like this always came up, and there went his savings once more.
The five Superiors sat at a large table and talked while they sipped their drinks. The children sat quiet, and while his hosts talked, Draven found his mind wandering to the children from time to time, wondering what it must be like for them to be forever stuck in that stage of their lives, a stage he had found particularly unsatisfying. After hundreds of years, Byron’s children seemed to have learned obedience, but Draven wondered if they were happy children or only docile.
He also wondered how their parents felt about them. Having children forever underfoot, the same children of the same age, struck him as hugest inconvenience. And unlike a wife, a man couldn’t very well leave the children and find something he liked better. Draven wondered if the parents regretted bringing their children through the evolution process. The girl, who looked older, kept staring at him, which he found unnerving. Their very presence made him uneasy—the way they sat so quiet and stared with their creepy big eyes and drank their sap like little robots.
“Would you like some wine?” Marisol asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“If you’re having some, perhaps just a sip for me, thank you, sir,” he said, trying to remember the last time he’d drunk anything besides sap. He accepted the glass of clear yellowish liquid and held it up when Byron toasted.
“To our new friend, and to many more mornings like these.”
Draven had to fight not to spit the bitter liquid back into his glass. After years without drinking anything but sap and an occasional glass of water, the wine tasted terrible. He managed to get it down without letting his face show his distaste. After the pleasantries of dinner, the children took the glasses to the sink and began washing, and Byron motioned for Draven to follow him from the room. Draven began to relax a bit when he couldn’t see the silent children anymore.
“There’s something I want to discuss with you in private,” Byron said.
“Yes, sir. Of course.” Draven followed Byron into a smaller room lined with digital picture frames interspersed with antique electronic devices. Byron sat behind a large desk and made his fingers into a tent in front of him on the desk. Draven sat opposite him, feeling as if he’d come to an interview completely unprepared. Byron watched him for a few minutes.
“So, how have you been the past few nights?” Byron asked at last.
“I’ve been well, thank you, sir. And yourself? Any progress on the case involving Ander?”
“Not progress exactly. We did close another restaurant the other night, and when we were filling out the formwork, we discovered that Ander rents the place. Another man owns it, so we hadn’t noticed it before in our investigation. We’re looking further to see if his name is connected to any other establishments in the area. This is the file on the restaurant we closed,” Byron said, opening a drawer and pulling out a flat black screen about the size of his hand. He set it on the table in front of him and turned it on. He studied Draven a moment before pushing the file across the desk towards him.
“Do you want to know the name of the place we closed?”
“Indeed,” Draven said, his stomach tight with dread.
“Sap Heaven. It’s one of those seedy places in the South End. Really a dump. Nearly dead humans, all overdrawn and prostituted. Some of them had been rented out for days.”
“Yes, sir.” Draven kept his eyes on the desk in front of him. He knew how his friend felt about these things—even more strongly than he did. His friend also knew the illegality of consorting with humans, and his friend also had the power to arrest him.
Byron remained silent and, after a while, Draven ventured a glance at him. His elbows rested on the desk and his hands returned to that tented position, under his chin this time. He seemed to be contemplating his next move with as much thought as he did on the chess board.
At last Draven spoke. “I do not have the girl—the human, I mean. I did go into the place.” He stopped, knowing Byron could ask for the information from anyone, that he could find a lie easily, even if his training failed him. “I went in, but none of the humans were fit to draw from. They all appeared weak and over-drawn, and some of them were diseased. I had already quit the inspector job or I would have called it in that night.”
He looked at Byron, who sat still, his face impassive. He would let Draven make his case or bind himself in steel, one of the two. Draven had never been a great orator, but he did his best not to worsen the situation.
“The sapien I took from the place was the worst—almost dead, and two people on her at the same time even while she was unconscious. I simply pitied her. I am fond of animals, and although I find touching them unpleasant, as you do, I do not dislike them as you do. I took her to the Confinement and left her there. Sir.”
“Two nights later.”
“Yes. I was quite tired the morning I removed her, so I let her sleep on my floor while I slept. I thought she might recover strength and I’d take her back that evening, but I overslept. I worked the next night and left her there.”
“At your apartment, inside?”
“Yes, sir. I agree that they do have a strong odor. My place smelled quite strongly of her. I even used my own money to feed her the next night, and when she seemed better, I took her to the Confinement.”
“Why didn’t you just report the place?”
“When a place like that gets shut down, more spring up in its place. I’ve seen it many times as an inspector, sir. I thought they might suspect me if I reported them. I…may have been angry when I took the sap from the restaurant.”
“But you weren’t afraid to return her to the Confinement instead of the restaurant? Then they would ha
ve known for sure you had turned them in. The Confinement would have made the call themselves if you brought them a nearly-lifeless sapien from a restaurant.”
“I thought of this, and decided I would return her to Sap Heaven and act quite grateful to them, pretend I had enjoyed her company more than I had, and then call the health department. Then they wouldn’t have cause to suspect I’d turned them in. But when I went to return her, the place was in a raid, so I took her to the Confinement.” He had no reason to lie about it. The truth proved less tangled, less messy. Draven would accept punishment for his actions, probably lose his meager savings paying the fine, and that would be the end of it. He only hated to lose a friend as well.
“Did you have unlawful carnal knowledge of the sapien?”
“No,” Draven said quickly, almost shuddering at the thought of all that warm flesh. “No, sir, I did not. I only took pity on the poor creature. She was suffering greatly when I brought her home. I only meant to give her a chance to recuperate.”
“And did you draw from her?”
Draven faltered before answering. “Yes, sir. Several times.”
“I see.”
“But she was much stronger when I returned her than when I found her. I did not overdraw her.” Draven bowed his head. “I know I should have returned her right away, sir.”
“Did you lend out this homo-sapien to anyone else?”
“No, sir.”
“Very well. I hope you’re not lying to me. I don’t believe you are. I ordered her brought to a doctor like the others from the restaurant. But her examination will be of a different nature. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m glad I’ve made myself clear. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw your name on the register for renting out a prostituted sapien. I ordered her to be checked when she was admitted. If I find that you were consorting with a sapien in a sexual manner, I will make sure you are aptly punished.”
Blood Moon: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Vampire Novel (The Superiors Book 1) Page 12
