A Whisper in the Dark

by K J Sutton

  “She’s a 34DD,” he informs me without missing a beat.

  “Jesus Christ, Drew. How do you even know that?”

  “Did you forget who does your laundry? Typical. This just proves how much you take me for granted. Oh, Charlie, that was Sylvia back there. She’s one of the best bounty hunters in the city.”

  By this point, Drew’s twin has slowed to walk alongside us. The fresh slave marks on my skin hurt anew, as though agitated by her mere presence. “So how long are you going to be slumming it with us?” the girl asks me, shifting a backpack slung over her slender shoulder.

  My mouth curls into a humorless smile. “Ada said I could only stay for two days, but I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go.”

  Drew laughs, and I shoot him a questioning look. “Don’t worry about Ada—she likes me. I’ll talk to her.”

  I blink at him. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” he asks. There’s genuine confusion in his tone. He can’t be that naive, can he? That oblivious? A human like him wouldn’t have survived this long.

  The human in question is still waiting for a response, and I struggle to find the right words. Nina observes our exchange with an expression I can’t put a definition to. “I just… I guess I’m not used to someone being so kind. Like, genuinely nice.”

  “That’s because you’ve been hanging with royals your whole life. Don’t worry,” Drew adds with a playful head tilt, “we won’t hold it against you.”

  My cheeks heat. Feeling like a song on repeat, I say, “Thank you, Drew. That would be amazing.”

  As we fall silent, laughter drifts back to us, and I finally notice the group of air nymphs walking ahead of us. They’re not going to the sewers—they’re me, just two nights ago. Off to the next club. On the hunt for a one night stand. Drinking their weight in sugary cocktails.

  There are moments like this, when reality hits me like a fist to the stomach, and I’m forced to grieve all over again. I resist the urge to tug at my sleeve and make sure no one else can see the angry marks staring out from my skin. The one on my neck, thankfully, is hidden by my wild hair.

  As we walk along behind, though, Drew’s arm brushes mine and I forget about the nymphs. The touch is so brief, so casual, that I know he couldn’t have done it on purpose. I’m about to ask him more about what to expect when he says, “Shit, I’m sorry, you probably have no idea what we’re walking into. Okay, let me think… at the start of each night, we head to the warehouse right next to the Public Works office. First we grab our weapons, then Bill reads off the daily assignments as we change into our gear. After that, we head down into the tunnels.”

  Weapons? Gear? Oh, god. “So I’m just diving right in, huh?” I ask, keeping my gaze on the busy street around us to hide how nervous I am.

  Drew casts me a sideways glance. “Yeah. As opposed to what?”

  “Well, there’s the small detail that I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m not a killer.”

  He chuckles as we keep walking. “It’s simple, Charlie. You learn by doing, or you die. But don’t worry, we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. Right, Nina?”

  His sister just grunts. Drew turns off into an alleyway as I stare after him, speechless. I jog to catch up and see the short blond several yards ahead of us, heading straight for a thick, dented door on the left side. It’s obviously a back entrance, and it hits me again, how far I’ve fallen.

  We file one by one into a cool, damp warehouse, and I cringe as a sulphuric scent assaults my senses, making my nostrils flare. Drew snickers at me, and I glare in his direction, holding my breath to keep the rancid smell out. I know it’s only going to get worse once we’re in the tunnels.

  We walk down a dark hall—passing one wide, bright doorway leading into a cavernous room—that turns sharply and becomes a much smaller room. I suck in a breath when my eyes fall on a wall full of weapons. Daggers and swords of differing lengths, as well as throwing stars, clubs, and chains.

  I watch as workers choose their weapons and remove them from the wall. Drew and Nina come back, each of them holding a blade with such familiarity that I know they go to the same one every night. Drew’s has a handle made of intricate silver, while Nina’s is gold, almost red, like a flame. Both suit their handlers, I think faintly. Out loud I say, “Why swords? New Ve isn’t exactly lacking when it comes to modern weaponry.”

  “Think about it,” Drew says, bringing out a third sword out from behind his back. He hands it to me with a dramatic bow, and I take it gingerly, afraid I’ll accidentally stab someone. “The vamps don’t trust us with guns. And unless you’ve got some impressive upper body strength, a club will only slow the weepers down. Swords make sense. They’re quick and clean.”

  I nod to indicate I’m listening, but my attention wanders as I study the weapon he’s chosen for me. The steel is lighter than I expected. The half-rusted hilt I’ve wrapped in my shaking fist is etched and gilded, the edges revealing it was obviously silver in another lifetime, but I can’t discern whether the shapes are meant to be flowers or birds.

  Workers have already started hurrying from the room. There’s a sense of urgency hovering in the air, and Nina is the first of us to break away, setting a brisk pace that even my long legs must put in a little effort to follow. I note how other workers are carrying their swords—tucked beneath the armpit, blade down—and do the same with mine. An instant later, we reach the wide, dusk-lit doorway again, and this time everyone goes through.

  “Wait here,” Drew says as we walk to the center of the space, touching my elbow. I just nod. He jogs away, toward a row of dented lockers, where Nina already stands. She finishes the combination on her locker and it swings open.

  While Drew starts rummaging through one of them, too, I look around, curious about this place in spite of myself. The warehouse itself is fairly empty, but the space is well-lit with fluorescent lights and skylights overhead. Along the far wall, three enormous doors loom, made of metal and rust. The acrid scent of them drifts through the air. Standing against another wall, there’s a row of lockers.

  Movement draws my gaze upward. High above us, there’s a middle-aged human in a box with clear walls. His bald head gleams in the harsh lights. He must turn on a microphone, because feedback crackles for a moment, and then his voice blares into the stillness. My pulse races at the mention of my name, and I turn toward Drew with wide eyes, who’s returned to me with two pieces of clothing draped over one arm. Dangling from his other hand are two pairs of boots. I know without putting them on that they’ll be too big.

  “Relax,” he murmurs, holding his arm out to me. Understanding, I take one of the shirts. No, not a shirt, I realize as it unfolds in my grasp. A green jumpsuit, its color like forest leaves during a storm. Oh, god. What are we going to be doing that requires a full body suit?

  Drew gives me yet another smile—I’ve already seen it so many times that I can conjure it from memory. But there’s nothing funny about our circumstances. It feels like all the blood has drained from my face and rushed to my heart, where it’s overworking to keep up.

  “Everything is going to be fine,” Drew says under his breath, squeezing my elbow. However brief this offering of comfort, I see several workers around us stiffen when his hand makes contact. “Remember what I told you.”

  “You mean the part about making sure I don’t get killed?” I manage, unzipping the jumpsuit with cold fingers. All I know is that I don’t want those doors to open—nothing good awaits in the belly of New Ve, a city of monsters, blood, and death.

  Following Drew’s example, I step into the jumpsuit and zip it over my clothes. In doing so, I notice the workers closest to us sliding their swords into a holster on the backs of their jumpsuits, pointed vertically, blade downward. Handy. I fumble with my sword as I try to follow suit. How do they do it without a mirror?

  Drew hurries to help, his eyes gleaming with barely-suppressed laughter. I’m too nervous at the thought of what’s c
oming to react.

  After my sword is tucked away, he hands me a pair of boots, and I start the process of putting these on, too. Still talking above our heads, the bald man finishes giving out the assignments. A moment later, there’s an ear-splitting buzzing sound. Red lights flash.

  The crowd instantly disperses as those three doors begin to rise, hidden gears creaking and groaning. Once again, my heart picks up speed like an animal on the verge of fleeing. Forget dying at the hands of a weeper—I may fall down dead of sheer terror. Drew must see something in my expression, because his eyes dart to the bald man up above before he puts his hand at the small of my back and propels us into the closest tunnel.

  I glance behind my shoulder in time to see Nina’s lavender eyes notice the touch. Her mouth tightens, and this time her expression is unmistakably furious. She breaks into a run and joins a gathering of women up ahead. I hear her asking them about someone named Rowan. Everyone’s footsteps echo around the shadowy space. The metal walkway shudders with each footstep and movement. I resist the urge to grab onto the handrails. My gaze flicks to the darkness below, half-expecting a glimpse of movement.

  “Why don’t they just close off the tunnels?” I murmur, more to myself than Drew.

  He flashes a grin at me anyway. “You really are a princess, aren’t you? Haven’t you heard of public transit? Or flushing a toilet? We need those tunnels open or the street will overflow with people and shit.”

  Nina comes back, tugging at the long, thick gloves she’s wearing. She overhears the end of Drew’s response and remarks, “What a lovely image.”

  Just as Drew starts to respond to her, someone calls his name, farther down the ramp. Drew hollers back a greeting, making me wince, and he leaves us without warning, his long legs eating up the distance quickly between him and the other group. I watch him go, and a moment later, my sensitive ears pick up his voice, telling an animated story. “Is he just this kind to everyone?” I wonder out loud.

  “Pretty much,” Nina answers. She doesn’t look at me. I feel the dislike rolling off her, the distrust, and words fail me. There’s nothing I can say to reassure her, because the truth is, I am a predator. I am a disruption to their lives. Maybe it would be best for everyone if I just promised to stay away from Drew…

  He returns a few seconds later, though, interrupting the uneasy silence between Nina and I. As though he’s completely oblivious—or maybe just truly unfazed by everything—Drew fills it with his easy chatter. As he starts talking about a new music video made in one of the other five cities, we arrive at a machine room, of sorts. A mammoth generator hums across the length of the dim space. Pipes shudder and hiss overhead. Along a far dirt wall, there are multiple service elevators that look seconds away from falling apart.

  Drew approaches one and bends to pull the rusted metal door up. Several jumpsuit-clad slaves get on without a word, but I hesitate. Drew smiles at me, prompting a soft warmth to spread through my cheeks, and offers an encouraging nod. As I did with the front door of the boardinghouse, I move without letting myself reconsider. But I step lightly and hold my breath, as if this will lessen the weight I’m adding.

  While even more workers pile in, Drew shifts around me, brushing my skin again, and the muscles in his arms flex as he pulls the door down. reaching forward to press a button. And then we’re moving, down, down, down into the earth’s belly. All the busy sounds coming from the machine room fade away. The cage shakes and rattles. After one particularly alarming shudder, I gasp and grab for Drew. My fingers wrap around his arm in a death grip, and he grunts in pain.

  “Shit, sorry,” I mutter, letting him go. Stupid vampire strength.

  He glances down at me and shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. You’re just… a bit stronger than me. It’s okay,” he assures me. I force myself to stand still as the elevator continues on. Gears moan and grind all around. Someone coughs into the stillness.

  Then everything stops. Silence falls upon us like a layer of dust.

  “Are you ready?” Drew whispers yet again, nudging me with a narrow hip. Never has someone touched me so casually. Not even Gabriela, who was the mother of my soul.

  Just behind us, I hear Nina’s teeth grind together.

  Her mounting agitation is nothing compared to my own. I remind myself that I looked directly at the King of New Ve with bright, lavender eyes—this should be nothing compared to the terror of that moment. My hand itches to reach for the sword, but no one else has. I bite my lip almost to the point of drawing blood. “Ready,” I say again. I see Drew’s amused smile in my peripheral vision, but I don’t look at him.

  Another worker, burly in stature, his hair shaved down to stubble, steps forward and pulls the door up.

  It slides open with a mournful screech.

  Lightbulbs gleam on both sides of the tunnel. One gives an ominous flicker.

  The end of it—if there is one—is swallowed by darkness, even to my Lavender eyes. The silence seems to be a presence all its own. I remain frozen while the other workers in the elevator shuffle off without hesitation, their pulses steady and even. Everything about the humans’ behavior says they’ve done this hundreds of times before. Their lack of fear comforts me.

  “Hey, new girl!” Nina calls from up ahead. I turn toward her and she points at a human hovering nearby. “Didn’t you hear Bill’s assignments? You’re with Lucas—he’s got the walkie talkie. Take the south tunnel and clear it out. Drew will stay close in case you run into any issues, and we’ll all meet up at the next crosspost.”

  Drew nudges me with his elbow and I look at him. “It’s going to be fine, Charlie. Remember, you’re a badass vampire!”

  He wastes no more time coddling me and jogs over to his own partner, a girl sporting a shaved head and tattoo sleeves on both arms. When our gazes meet, she gives me a chin-up gesture, then turns away before I can reciprocate. Drew slings his arm around her shoulders, which she immediately shoves off, and the two of them head into the darkness.

  Chewing the inside of my cheek, I glance at the boy coming toward me. He looks around my age—maybe a bit younger—and not too thrilled to be stuck with the new girl. Once he’s close enough, I try to give him a friendly smile. “Hi. I’m Charlie,” I say.

  “Lucas,” he says back with a smile that seems equally forced. His dishwater blond hair is tousled, as if he just rolled out of bed, and his round cheeks are flushed with color. A human, through and through.

  “Are you new, too?” I ask as we walk along the empty ramp. I hear the faint sound of trickling water, echoing from farther ahead.

  The boy shrugs. There’s a sword against his spine, like all the others, but he’s holding something else in his hands. A tool, of sorts, which ends in a triangular shape with several long teeth. “I guess,” he answers. “I’ve been working this sector a little over a month.”

  “Why were you assigned here?” I ask without thinking. Lucas stops walking, staring at me, and I immediately wish I could take it back. The last thing I want is to make an enemy in these tunnels. “Shit, I’m sorry. That’s not okay to ask, is it? Please forget I said anything.”

  After a moment, the boy’s gaze drops to the dirty, damp metal under our feet. “It’s fine,” he mutters. “My family lived outside. Beyond the walls. We were found by one of the king’s supply runners, who killed my dad on the spot, and he brought us back here. Sold all of us at the Sunday auction. I haven’t seen my little sister since the vampire who bought her took Lizzie away.”

  Remorse fills my throat, making it impossible to speak. Not for the first time, I wonder if I could have done more as a royal vampire. Could I have used my influence on the king to make life more bearable for the slaves living beneath his thumb?

  Eventually I say, my voice sad and quiet, “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I can’t imagine how horrible it must’ve been.”

  Lucas blinks at me. “You actually mean that, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I say with a short l
augh. “I guess so.”

  He scratches the back of his neck. “Okay. Well, thanks.”

  “Hey, there should be some perks to getting stuck with the Lavender,” I say suddenly, hoping to ease the tension between us. As we walk deeper underground, my mind fills with the memory of a new slave that once arrived at the mansion. She, too, had been from beyond the wall, and living as such had meant she knew almost nothing about my kind besides rumors and folklore. I’m not sure it would’ve helped her, anyway, once she caught Henry’s eye. I found her body in my garden just a few days afterwards. “Is there anything you’d like to know about… about vampires?”

  Lucas is silent for a moment. But he’s a human, and they’re more curious than any other species I’ve met. In less than a minute he blurts, “Is it true that wooden stakes don’t work?”

  I smile at his wide eyes. “Yes, that one is true. Holy water and garlic don’t phase us, either. But we’re highly photosensitive—our skin blisters within minutes of sunlight touching it. We also dislike salt, since it causes a rash if we’re exposed to enough of it. Makes swimming in the ocean just a little unpleasant.” I pause to think, pursing my lips. “Oh, even though we have venom, vampirism cannot be contracted. All you’ll catch from a vampire bite—although it’s really rare to catch anything—is Rabies or HIV. Another fun fact, I guess, is that we can’t digest meat.”

  “You can’t digest meat?” the boy repeats, a note of incredulity in his voice. I just shrug, not sure what to say. But Lucas is warming to the subject now, and in the next breath he asks, “How do you become a vampire? If you’re not born as one?”

  My nose wrinkles. “Oh. Turning. It’s a gross process… not to mention dangerous. The vampire must allow the other to drain most of their blood, and it’s difficult for anyone to stop drinking from a vampire, considering how addictive it is. For humans, I mean. If a vampire drinks too much blood from our own kind, we go insane.”

  “I did know about that,” Lucas admits. He pauses. “I met a blood dealer on the auction block. He told me some things before he was sold.”