by Eva Muñoz
“Is something the matter?” He touched my forehead. “You look flushed.”
I stumbled away from him. The edge of the balcony bumped into my lower back, and I hissed from the sudden pain. I had let my guard down too long.
“Careful.” Zaire gathered me close. “I wouldn’t want you to fall over.”
“I—I’ve got to go.”
“You are not seriously considering following Troyan around all day, are you?”
I was seriously considering getting away from Zaire.
“Then bring me to Gaige’s lab. I’m sure you know where that is,” I said.
“I can take you there. But don’t you want to know more about us and how we live?”
My curiosity sparked. Of course I wanted to know more. When did I ever not want to know more?
Pro: more answers awaited me if I said yes.
Con: I risked exposing myself.
Pro: I would learn more about the Inshari than Troyan would ever let me know.
Con: I’d be with Zaire.
Pro: I’d be with Zaire.
Chapter Eleven: Empty
ZAIRE LED me out of the palace through a back entrance. I had to widen my steps to keep up with his ground-eating strides. Not once did we run into anyone as we made our way through a long tunnel lit by lanterns. The musty smell of damp walls caused me to wrinkle my nose. I paused.
“Little cat?” Zaire said, halting to study me.
“Don’t you think it’s odd that we haven’t passed anyone since we left the balcony? Where is everyone?” I asked.
“The market, probably. And Assembly has started. There’s not that many of us around. And most of the servants are busy preparing for the Festival.”
“Then where are you taking me?”
“Braylin.”
“I’m not supposed to go there.”
Images of my potential reaction to the way they smelled pinged in my head. Was it really like being in front of an all-you-can-eat buffet? If my earlier reaction could be trusted, then I may not have any control of the hunger if faced with temptation. I swallowed. The last thing I wanted was to think of Riya as a plate of pasta.
“That’s what makes it fun.” He inched closer, fire behind his clear eyes.
“No, Zaire, you don’t understand. I can’t be among the students right now.” The thought actually made me salivate a little. I grimaced and pushed down the primal instincts.
“It’s night up top. I have a class to attend, which I’m already late for.” Zaire frowned. He ran his fingers through his curls, a worried expression marring his face. “After it’s over, I’ll take you to the market.”
Relief flooded my insides, followed by a brand-new kind of eagerness—one that made my fingers tingle. He was taking me to a class. I’d get to sit in a classroom filled with Inshari. I gave him a mischievous smile.
“Lead on,” I said.
“That’s more like it.” He returned my smile with a devastating one. I had to blink several times to break its spell.
In minutes we reached the end of the tunnel. A wall lamp illuminated elevator doors. Zaire fished out a key card from his jacket and slipped it into a slot. He punched in a code on a number pad and the doors parted.
With a bow and a flourish, Zaire motioned for me to enter. I gave him a small nod before stepping in. He joined me and pressed the only button, which I assumed led up to the surface. A swift tug and the car rose at a speed that made my stomach flip.
“How deep underground are we?” I asked, staring at my reflection on the stainless-steel paneling. I still felt disconnected from the person. This Camron looked too handsome, too perfect….
“Thirty stories, give or take.” He leaned his back on one side of the elevator and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
He stared at a point beyond where I stood in silent contemplation. Such a faraway look for a small space. I couldn’t stand it. Warmth blossomed in my chest. It begged me to peel away the layers Zaire had until I met the real Inshari underneath. He may smile, he may joke, but deep down, he drowned in a sorrow I understood on some level. A level I hardly visited in fear of breaking down and being unable to function on a daily basis. What could have caused Zaire to be so unhappy? What could have happened in his life that pushed him to shut himself away? Troyan played the emotionless robot, but something told me Zaire held more behind his smile than Troyan ever did beneath his expressionless mask.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Was I thinking?” Zaire seemed to have forgotten he had company. He blinked several times before his eyes focused on me.
“Well, you were something,” I said.
Smooth as a limo, the elevator slowed to a stop. My ears popped at the sudden pressure change. With a ding, the doors opened into a clearing powdered by fresh snow. The waning moon cast the pine trees and benches in a silvery light—a barren winter paradise waiting for spring. Haunting and so familiar.
I stepped out of the car.
“Are we in the—” I spun around and looked up. We’d just exited the bell tower. Zaire came to my side as the elevator doors shut.
“Come,” he said, taking my hand. I was too dumbfounded to blush from the contact. “I’m late enough as it is.”
I let him pull me away, my gaze still locked on the tower that I once thought held nothing but the bell. The genius of it blew my mind. Nobody ever visited this section of Braylin. Campus had far more interesting places for students to hang out in.
After my surprise wore off, I focused on where we were headed. It felt strange to be following someone along halls I knew by heart. Braylin wore a darker dress at night. Shadows danced around the flickering sconces. I squeezed Zaire’s hand to get his attention.
“What class are we attending tonight?”
“Sociology 102,” Zaire answered over his shoulder. I choked down a laugh.
“Learning about humans, I suppose?”
He stopped and stared at me. The orange light gave his hair copper highlights. As seconds ticked by, his silence grew too loud for comfort. My jaw dropped.
“You’re serious?” I asked. He winced, so I tried for a more curious tone. “You’re serious?”
“Okay, now you’re just mocking me,” he said.
“I’m not.” I disguised a chuckle as a cough.
“Right.” He smiled, all teeth. Totally predatory. “Oh, a small request?”
“Name it.”
“We’re sneaking into this class, so if you can just observe and not say anything, that would be great.”
“I can’t make any promises.”
I entered the classroom and heard him curse. I tried not to smile as I chose a seat at the top row of the amphitheater. Zaire settled in beside me, slouching and entwining his fingers over his belly.
“What sets us apart from humans?” a wizened yet still-handsome Inshari wearing barrister’s robes asked as he stood on the teacher’s platform, his voice like gravel. “This is the question on our minds this semester. We ponder its truths and its falsehoods to better understand ourselves.” He paused to scan the room.
My gaze surfed through the sea of twenty or so attendees. Disappointment clawed at my insides. Nothing about the class seemed any different from those held during the day.
Black-haired students composed a majority of the class. A small group had brown hair like mine. They sat together to the side. Zaire was the only blond. Interesting. I had trouble identifying who smelled like what since they sat too far away. Then my eyes landed on Troyan’s unmistakable blue-black hair held by a ribbon.
My heart revved up, sending scalding blood to my cheeks.
To his left sat a petite Inshari with a cascade of midnight locks held in place by a silver circlet. Beatrix.
A pinch of annoyance came out of nowhere at the sight of them sitting together. I focused on Troyan. Beneath all the layers of his uniform was the bite mark that connected us. If I held my breath, I could almost distinguish his heartbeat from the
rest of those in the room.
A student raised his hand and recited the differences between the Inshari and humans. It was Eli. I recognized his voice as he listed what I already knew about them. They healed. They had preternatural speed. Blah, blah, blah. I had a feeling the professor wanted a more philosophical answer.
I leaned toward Zaire and whispered, “I thought Troyan was at Assembly.”
“Sociology 102 is a required subject.” Zaire followed my gaze down the rows of seats. “You can’t miss it, or else you fail. And for a subject that’s only a pass or fail, being absent is a big mistake. Why do you think we’re here instead of exploring the marketplace? Anyway, Assembly lasts hours.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off Troyan’s broad shoulders. Beatrix reached out and rubbed his arm. He stiffened slightly, as did I, but he made no attempt to move away. She leaned in and he bent down as she whispered something into his ear. From her profile I saw her flirtatious smile. So different from the murderous intent she had shown me the first time we met. Troyan shrugged without looking her way.
A low growl vibrated inside my chest. My fingers curled, scratching grooves on the desk’s wooden surface as I made a fist. Tremors reverberated all over my body, so strong I thought my chair would collapse underneath me. I couldn’t understand the sudden urge to rip off the hand resting on Troyan’s arm. It was an irrational rage. Troyan could sit with anyone he wanted. Who was I to stop him?
A cold hand wrapped around my fist.
“Camron,” Zaire whispered. “You look like you’re about to pounce. Calm down.”
“Huh?” I turned to him to discover only a few inches separated our lips. I leaned back.
“It’s okay.” He squeezed my fist. “Relax.”
I blinked several times before coherent thoughts formed in my head. Zaire regarded me through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Why’s Beatrix sitting beside Troyan?” I finally had enough sense to ask in a calm manner.
“She’s his fiancée.”
The news sank like a concrete block in my stomach.
“He’s engaged?”
“More like arranged, but yes.”
Somehow, knowing his engagement had been arranged didn’t make me feel better. That was why he wanted me to control my urges around him. He was already taken.
Beatrix raised her hand and said, “Professor, may I interject?”
Her voice sounded pleasant, far from the heat she had shown when she threatened to end my life. The teacher nodded at her.
“You may, Ms. Oslov.”
“Eli has a point when listing our differences from humans,” she began, straightening in her seat. “We are stronger, faster, and we live longer, which only befits the hunter of prey as smart and as formidable as the humans have become. But those are only superficial differences.”
“Continue,” the professor urged.
I sat on the edge of my seat.
“I believe we are not that different from humans since we are what we eat,” Beatrix continued. “Like humans, we gossip. We are social. We like material things. We make connections, friendships. We have families. We love.”
She glanced at Troyan as she said the last item on the list. My vision narrowed. I saw nothing but red. What little control I had crashed and burned. My lips moved of their own volition before I could think of stopping myself.
“I disagree,” I said. I didn’t even care that Eli looked as if his eyes would roll out of his skull the moment he recognized me. “Even if feeding on flesh is forbidden, it doesn’t remove the fact that we are natural predators.” We? What did I mean by “we”? “We prey on sentient beings with—as you said—feelings and personal connections. Doesn’t that make us beneath them?”
Beatrix’s expression was priceless. Her left eyebrow lifted so far up that her circlet shifted. Her pouty lips parted in shock. The look on Troyan’s face came in at a high second. His stunned disbelief at my presence in his class broke his impeccable emotionless mask. His gaze flicked toward Zaire, and he narrowed his eyes.
“And who are you?” the professor asked, breaking the tension mounting between the empty rows separating Zaire and myself from Troyan and Beatrix.
Before I could speak, Zaire said, “He’s new.”
“May I address his claims?” Beatrix turned to the professor.
The old Inshari gestured his assent by flicking his hand at her.
“I understand where our new classmate is coming from.” She shot a pointed stare my way. “But, like he said, we are forbidden to consume our prey. Humans must consider themselves lucky. They have their freedom. That is the fundamental difference between humans and Inshari. We must deprive ourselves, while they are free to live their lives without any restrictions other than the laws that govern them. Imagine what would happen if we were given free rein again? Humans would be nothing more than cattle once more. As they should be, if you ask me.”
A murmur of agreement came from the other students. Some nodded while others whispered to one another. The hunger that entered Eli’s eyes was unmistakable, but I refused to show fear.
“So, you’re saying you want to hunt, to consume them again.” My voice quavered. “That’s unforgivable!”
With a gotcha smile, Beatrix said, “Don’t you?”
Troyan shot me a “keep quiet if you know what’s good for you” look.
“What’s wrong with being vegetarian?”
Taking my challenge, Beatrix responded. “Becoming a vegetarian is a choice. We were never given a choice.”
“Not the point,” I continued.
“Then what point are you trying to make?” Beatrix waited, and so did the rest of the class.
Troyan scowled and faced forward.
“Camron!” Zaire warned.
“You’re saying humans are lucky?” I scrambled for my next words. “What’s so lucky about getting sick and having none of the doctors know how to make you better? What’s so lucky about wasting away day after day, month after month, and only finding relief in death?”
Zaire had his hand wrapped around my arm before I could say anything else. In one tug he steered me out of the classroom.
“What happened to just observing?” he growled at me.
“I couldn’t help myself,” I said, allowing Zaire to sweep me onward. To struggle seemed futile. Now that I was outside the classroom, the fight left me. “Beatrix started speaking and something in me snapped. I can’t stand her!”
“And what was with that speech?”
“I got carried away.” I shrugged.
“And then some.”
“I was just giving an example.”
“Why am I finding that hard to believe?”
My eyes stayed glued to the floor, as we kept moving toward the bell tower. I wasn’t about to spill my guts to someone I barely knew, especially when it involved my mother.
“You can believe whatever you want,” I whispered.
“We’re going back to the palace,” he said.
“What about your class?” Guilt punched my gut, but I couldn’t face Troyan right now. Remembering how he scowled at me after I ignored his warning messed me up. He was just trying to save me from myself, like he always did, and I spat in the face of it.
“I’ve made my appearance.” Zaire forced a grin. “That’s more than enough for today.”
“Well, look at you, Mr. Model Student.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. “Zaire, one sec.” I fished out my phone.
“Who is it?” Zaire peered at the glowing screen in the dim light of the hallway.
“My best friend,” I said, excited and nervous at the same time. I tapped the screen and held the receiver close to my ear. “Hey, Riya….”
“Where are you?” Her stern voice came clearly from the other end, as if she stood right in front of me. “When I went back to the clinic to get you, you weren’t there. And then you didn’t come back to the dorms that night. I was worried sick, so I went to Headmaster Kiev for answers. He said
you’re on some sort of retreat?”
I could hear her disbelief. I scrambled for the appropriate lie. A retreat? That was what Troyan thought was “handling it”? I wanted to smack him.
“Yeah, something like that,” I said.
“Why?”
“Headmaster Kiev thought it would do me some good to get away.”
“I don’t understand.”
My heart skipped in panic. Riya wasn’t buying my story. Zaire’s brow wrinkled as he watched me.
“Riya, I’m sorry, but now’s not a good time. If they catch me on my phone, they’ll take it away. Gotta go.” I ended the call and tapped the Off switch.
Guilt replaced my panic. I hated lying to Riya, but it was for her own good. She didn’t need to start investigating where I really was. And if I knew her, her experiments would hold her attention long enough that she’d forget about me for a while.
“You’re not going to say ‘it’s complicated’ are you?” asked Zaire.
“Ha!” I laughed, ignoring the bitter taste in my mouth. “I wish.”
Chapter Twelve: Status
RUNNING ALONG halls with endless white walls and tons of navy curtains didn’t strike me as fun. It sucked the adventurous mood out of me faster than a Sex Ed lecture on STIs. I had no idea sneaking into the palace could be so tedious. When I made my impulsive decision to follow Zaire, I expected exotic locations, a bounty of information, secrets revealed. Instead, I made a fool of myself in his class and ended up playing hide-and-seek with palace guards afterward.
In their defense, the guards didn’t know we were hiding from them. Every time we ran into someone, Zaire would drag me behind a curtain into a secret alcove, nudging me back until I had my spine flat against the wall. Zaire always faced me with his hands splayed on either side of my head.
I wanted to scream my annoyance at him for constantly invading my personal space, but being sandwiched between a wall and Zaire’s long, sinewy body turned into a practice of ultimate patience. I was bathed in the scent of honeysuckle clinging to his skin—the scent of the cusp of spring and summer.
