by K J Sutton
Of course I’d heard about this—nonvampires selling vials of our blood to the citizens that can afford it. Years ago, Father came down hard on anyone that was caught doing it. Public executions. Lifetime sentences within the New Ve prison. Once, in the case of a human who had been selling it, the Vampire King ordered him strapped to a chair in Midtown, where he was forced to drink vial after vial of the dark liquid, until he got so fucked up from the high that he smashed his own skull in against the back of the chair.
I’d been twelve years old. It was the first time I saw the monster everyone else did.
What had we been talking about? Oh, right, the Turning process. I clear my throat and add, “Turned vampires are a lot more bloodthirsty than one who’s born, though. It doesn’t happen as often as books or movies make it seem.”
Lucas absorbs this for less than a second before he has another question ready for me. I answer it patiently. And the one after that, too.
The rest of our shift passes more quickly than I expect. Though Lucas has only been assigned to this sector for a month, he navigates the sewers without difficulty. We clear two blockages—a grueling process that involves stepping into rushing water and poking at a slimy grate with the tool Lucas is carrying—and lay down several rat traps. Apparently they’re becoming a problem in New Ve. Two hours later, Lucas’s walkie-talkie makes a trilling sound, and a male voice blares into the quiet of the tunnels.
With Lucas leading the way again, we move to rejoin the others.
The crosspost Nina mentioned is a spot where four of the metal ramps meet over a vast body of water. In some parts, where there are no waterways or grates, the surface is smooth as glass.
Spotting me, a tall figure breaks away from the group and jogs down the ramp to meet us. “So? How was it?” Drew asks, grinning behind a plastic mask. Most of its clear surface is covered in green foam, and the instant I notice this, I hold my breath to avoid learning what it smells like.
To his question, I mentally review the night. An entire evening spent below the city… and we didn’t encounter a single weeper. Maybe Drew was telling the truth, and this work isn’t as bloody as the stories make it to be. “I mean, it wasn’t an afternoon at the mansion, but I wasn’t beating off weepers with a rusty sword,” I tell him.
Raising his brows, Drew starts walking back in the direction of the service elevators. Everyone else follows his lead. “Sounds like a win to me.”
For some reason, the journey to the surface feels shorter than the one going below. When we arrive at the lockers, I pull off the borrowed boots delicately—they’re caked with mud and god knows what else. The scents wafting off them make me want to vomit. Drew shows me the way to a shower, with a small grate beneath it, meant to clean off tools and gear. There’s a short line, and as I wait, Lucas walks past. We exchange a tentative wave before he disappears through that distant doorway, and as I watch him go, I allow myself to hope that I’ve found one more ally in this frightening place.
Minutes later, I’m back in my normal clothes, and I’ve never been more relieved to be wearing a wrinkled sweatshirt. Drew stands beside me, pulling on a coat he took from his locker. “Want to come out with us?” he asks, glancing at me sidelong. There’s no sign of the smeared goggles he’d been wearing earlier. The collar of his coat brushes the edge of his jawline. “There’s a bar we always go to on Friday nights. Well, every night, really.”
“Oh. Yeah, okay.” While it’s tempting to hurry back to the boardinghouse and hide under that scratchy blanket again, I could also really, really use a drink.
Feeling nervous again, I follow Drew out of the warehouse and into the night.
The barest hint of light touches the horizon. Leaves skitter across our path, and a single bird sings the moon to sleep. We only have an hour or two before sunrise. As Drew and I walk together, we’re oddly silent. Even when he reaches over and tugs at the band around my ponytail, Drew doesn’t say a word. Before I can stop him, my hair falls around my shoulders in limp waves. I roll my eyes, but the effect is ruined by the tiny smile curving my lips. I snatch the small band away from him and shove it into my pocket. It feels as though we’re forming a language of smiles and brief touches, and I’m reluctant to return to words and difficult questions.
The choice is taken from us a few moments later as Nina catches up to us, telling Drew that someone named Hannah is looking for him. She jerks her thumb behind us, and the boy between us sighs, backtracking while Nina and I continue forward.
Who’s Hannah?
“So how was your first day?” Nina asks, twisting the backpack around so it rests against her stomach. She pulls the zipper open with a sound I barely hear, amongst all the clamor of the street. Apparently most shifts end at this time—the sidewalks are bloated with creatures rushing home or hoping to arrive at the bar in time for happy hour.
I let out a breath. “You know, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
Nina nods, as if this doesn’t surprise her. “We’re a family. We look out for each other and get the job done,” she says simply. A moment later, she finds what she’s been looking for—lipstick.
I watch her apply a new layer of it, the color red as a freshly-slit throat. “That’s really great. The family part, I mean. You and Drew, you’ve made me feel like this isn’t the worst thing in the world that could’ve come from me being a Lavender, so... thank you. Seriously.”
Rubbing her lips together to blend the lipstick, Nina follows my gaze toward Drew. “My brother is good at making people feel welcome,” she says after a moment. “He has a big heart and he cares about everyone.”
“I noticed that, too,” I murmur. “He’s slow to judge and quick to smile. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone else like him.”
Nina slants her eyes my way again. “About that,” she starts, lowering her voice an octave.
As we continue down the street—a glowing neon sign appears on our right, announcing the workplace of a fangsmith—I glance at the human girl beside me. “Is there a problem?”
Nina smiles, but it’s far from friendly. The slight curve of her lips sends a shiver down my spine. “No problem. And we won’t have one as long as you don’t get involved with my brother. Anyone close to a Lavender tends to get killed, and Drew is too naive to look out for himself.”
My stomach somersaults at the insinuation, my cheeks flushing hotly, but before I can respond, she stops in front of a black brick building. There’s a small black awning over the door, and the windows on either side are tinted so outsiders can’t see in.
“Welcome to Rowan’s,” Nina says. A memory clicks from hours earlier, when I’d caught mention of the name. Apparently they’d been talking about a bar. “We come here after shifts because Ada doesn’t allow liquor at the house, so be careful not to piss off the bouncers.”
Nina glances past me and shouts to the others to hurry up before pulling the old wooden door open. Yards back, Drew appears deep in conversation with a pretty, silver-haired girl. The infamous Hannah, no doubt. A dark impulse steals over me—a thought that I could eavesdrop with no one the wiser. But that’s not who Gabriela raised me to be. Moving quickly, I step inside Rowan’s before the door closes.
A wave of noise hits me like a battering ram, and I squint while my eyes adjust to the dim room. Everything is exposed wood, including the floor, which feels sticky under my boots. My senses are overwhelmed with bass blaring through speakers and a toxic mixture of alcohol, sweat, and body spray.
It’s hard to tell how big the space is with so many bodies dancing, drinking, laughing. From what I can tell, there aren’t any other vampires here, but there are several fairies and shapeshifters. One blue-skinned female is showing off in a booth—her power manifests in dancing wisps of blue and pink, as if her hands are spinning cotton candy from the very air.
The noise and movement is almost overwhelming as I hurry after Nina, who’s charging toward a table in a corner. She stumbles once when a green-hair
ed girl shoves her in trying to get to the bar, but Drew’s sister just shoves her back and keeps moving. I arrive at the table a moment later. Nina says nothing to me. With a sharp gaze scanning the room, she slips off her glitter-encrusted jacket and hangs it on the back of her chair.
Feeling out of place in my NEW VEW UNIVERSITY sweatshirt, I pull it off—along with the long-sleeved shirt—and drape it over the chair beside hers. Underneath, I’m wearing the silky, lace-trimmed top I’d worn to bed the night before my Awakening. Hopefully it’s only obvious to me that it’s part of a pajama set. I’m just sitting down as Drew approaches our table. I catch his gaze flick down the length of me, taking note of the tank top.
“Thirsty?” he shouts over the music.
Why, are you offering? I almost ask, eyeing the vein at his throat.
Jesus, where the hell did that come from? Seeing him with Hannah must’ve chipped away at whatever calm I’ve managed to achieve. It doesn’t matter that I’ve only known this human less than a day—it’s a vampire’s nature to hoard, possess, consume.
Fighting the instincts clawing at me, I push my tongue against my gums and run it over my canines, and wince inwardly. Damn. I should feed again soon. Not on Drew.
“Charlie?” he says, close to my ear this time, as though he’s worried I didn’t hear him before.
Holy shit, he smells good. Like blood and boy and eucalyptus-scented deodorant. Smiling tightly, I nod at him. “Thanks. Whatever they have on tap is fine.”
Drew leans close so he doesn’t have to shout. “Do you have a blood preference?”
The question makes me feel warm. “They serve blood here?” I ask, faintly surprised. Who knew Oldbel was so accommodating toward vampirekind? When Drew nods, I give him my usual order. “Half O-positive and half A-positive, please.”
He winks. “Coming right up!”
He disappears into the crowd. I peek over at Nina, anxious that she’s going to be glaring, as if she can hear my thoughts about the brother she just warned me away from, but she’s still scanning the crowd.
Drew comes back with the drinks a few minutes later—he ordered me a cocktail instead of a beer, apparently—and plops down into the seat beside me. Some liquid sloshes onto the table. Blood, I recognize a second later, when the smell greets my senses. My mouth waters. I try not to appear too eager as I take a sip from the glass, and the familiar taste of blood explodes on my tongue.
“What do you think?” Drew asks, gesturing at the room around us.
It takes every shred of self-control I have left not to down the rest of the cocktail. Clearing my throat to buy myself time, I cross my legs and swirl the drink around in my hand, listening to the ice cubes clink against the sides of the glass. “It’s a little more… rustic than I’m used to, but I like it.”
“You’re too serious, Charlie. The discovery that everything is shit is the most important revelation of all time. Now, you’re free.” As Drew finishes speaking, a tall human approaches our table. Drew turns to him, flashing his unstoppable grin, and shouts a greeting. They shake hands before the redhead’s eyes shift to me. “Oh, shit. Yeah. Simon, this is Charlie.”
Simon extends his hand, something straightforward in his manner, and I don’t hesitate to shake it. “What are you doing on this side of town?” Drew asks, drawing Simon’s attention back to him.
He groans, tugging at the collar of his white dress shirt. “Saffron has been bitching at me to bring her here for months. Figured her birthday was finally a good time to do it.”
Drew laughs. “Probably. Tell Saff I said happy birthday.”
“Will do. I better grab our drinks and get back.”
“Catch you later, man.” Drew turns back to me and starts talking about how he met Simon and Saff. I have some trouble listening, because once again, I find myself admiring him. Getting caught up in how the dangling light over our heads casts down on his features. The more time I spend with this human, the more comfortable with him I get. He has the kind of charismatic personality that can make anyone feel as if they’ve always known him.
I realize that Drew has stopped talking. I blink at him and scramble for something to say. “He seems nice.”
“Yeah, Simon is cool.” He leans back, casually draping his arm along the back of my chair. It brushes against me. “You know, there’s a TV at the boardinghouse—we could watch a movie on Sunday. That’s our day off, in case no one thought to tell you.”
“Sure,” I answer, feeling warm again. “I’d like that.”
We’re both smiling like maniacs. To avoid Nina noticing this, I watch the dancing for a while. I get lost in the movement as I sip on the cocktail Drew ordered for me. My brows tug closer when a section of the crowd parts and a familiar figure walks in. She walks with such confidence that people literally move out of her way.
Sylvia, Drew had called her. The bounty hunter.
And this time, Sylvia isn’t alone—another vampire follows her toward the bar. His hair is dark as onyx and brushes the back of his neck in soft-looking curls, complimenting olive-toned skin. He scans the crowd with green eyes so penetrating they shake me to my core. For once, I’m glad to have the eyesight I do, as there’s no way a human would be able to see him so clearly in this room… but he’s all I see right now.
“You’re staring,” Drew teases, his mouth close to my ear.
I jump, then turn to him with a scowl. “I’m not staring.”
“That’s Noah,” Drew informs me, ignoring this. “He’s another hunter. Bounty hunter, not vampire. In case you were worried he’s going to break into the boardinghouse with an axe.”
His eyes are on the vampire, too, so I turn back around. Two human women walk up and start talking. From the shy, appreciative expressions on their faces, I can guess what their motives are for approaching him—some humans actually prefer sex with vampires over their own kind. I can hardly blame them, since the bite makes everything more pleasurable. But Noah humors the humans only for a few seconds before turning on the stool, effectively putting his back to them. He says something into Sylvia’s ear, and she tips her head back, laughing.
“Are they… together?” I ask, noticing for the first time that a blood bottle glints at the hollow of Sylvia’s throat.
Drew tosses a peanut into his mouth. “Not sure. They mostly keep to themselves.”
Nina chooses that moment to take interest. “They aren’t together. Word on the street is, they’ve known each other forever, but they’ve never been romantically involved.”
“I knew you read V Weekly. You said that magazine was Clarissa’s!” Drew reaches over and ruffles Nina’s hair, earning a frosty glare as she bats his hand away.
The exchange causes a pit to form in my stomach. I haven’t had much time to miss my siblings or cousins, but when I see these two together, it reminds me what I was forced to leave behind.
“You good?” Drew asks.
“Yes.” I throw back the last of my drink. Too much teeth, I think when I see a faerie draw back at the sight of my fangs. “I just need to use the restroom.”
“It’s over there,” Nina says, pointing across the space.
“Thanks.” Sliding off my chair, I walk around the edge of the room the best I can to avoid the mass of bodies grinding against each other.
After walking down a long, dark hallway and standing in line for fifteen minutes, I finally reach the restroom. It’s not the cleanest place. Frankly, in comparison to the lavatories at the mansion, it’s horrifying.
I catch sight of those hateful, vivid lavender eyes in the dirty mirror as I’m washing my hands. I’m about to drop my gaze when I notice the tattoo on the side of my neck. Despite the many hours that have passed since meeting Hideshi and his delightful tattoo gun, I haven’t yet seen what my new mark looks like. I run my fingers gently over the small, black numbers. No. 2300761. To New Ve, that is now my legal name.
“Awesome,” I murmur to my tired-looking reflection. “Nice to meet you, No. 23
00761.”
The Lavender slave staring back says nothing.
When I shift my attention away from the tattoo, scanning the rest of my face, a sigh slips out of me. I run my fingers through my hair and loosen the waves a bit, then swipe under my eyes to clean up any residue mascara. God, I need to shower.
Sighing again, I leave the restroom and squeeze through the growing line of women waiting to get in. In the midst of the crowd, I get turned around and end up at the opposite end of the hall, where the music from the bar is muted. There’s a doorway with a dark purple curtain pulled back against the frame. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I poke my head inside, needing a few more minutes before I return to the atmosphere of the bar.
In here, different music plays from the speakers overhead, softer than the painful bass in the other room. My eyes immediately go to the black leather couch in the middle of the dimly-lit space, to the human laying on it with her arm draped over the side, and a dark-haired male vampire on top of her, drinking from her groin. She moans deeply, as if he’s fucking her instead of feeding on her, and it sends my pulse racing, flooding my cheeks with heat.
I suck in a breath, my gums throbbing as the sweet scent of her blood reaches me. My feet are moving toward them before I realize what’s happening.
A second later, the vampire pulls back, his arm flexing on the back of the couch as he gets off the now-unconscious woman and turns to look at me, knocking the breath right of my lungs.
Holy shit. It’s him—the vampire that came with Sylvia. What did Drew say his name was?
Noah.
He focuses on me, and it seems impossible my body still feels so hot when the ice in his glare is so frigid. Blood drips from his mouth, his fangs still protruding from his lips, which curl into a slow smirk.
I start to back away, alarm bells clanging in my head to leave. Everything about this vampire reeks of danger and destruction. I whirl on my heels and start for the doorway, but before I get close, Noah is there, blocking my exit.
