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THE FACT THAT WE’D been plagued by a cloud of mosquitoes before we entered the corridor seemed to make for the perfect opening to a horror movie. If locusts had flown down to greet us too, it wouldn’t have surprised me in the least.
After we’d entered through the opening, a long passageway stretched out before us. At the end of the corridor, we found an elevator. Once inside, it silently whooshed closed. The disintegrating exterior was in stark contrast to the inside of this place. There were no buttons displayed on the elevator door. I assumed this meant it only went one way. We were on the longest elevator ride down to what Corinth kept saying led to the pits of hell, and all I could think about was all that strange, uncontained lightning in his eyes—with each flash, it had exposed a black void of nothingness—as if the light had sucked his eyes right out of his skull.
His white-knuckled grip on the blade was proof of how much he didn’t want to be here. Corinth was covered in scrapes and bruises, and the dark circles under his eyes had returned. I sensed he knew he had reached a turning point with the blade. He kept giving me surreptitious glances when he didn’t think I was looking, as if he were afraid he’d done irrevocable damage to me. It broke my heart to see him lose himself in this way. But underneath all of that fear lay a conviction that surprised me.
Back in the cavern, when Corinth had accidentally cut me with his blade, there had been a flash of pure rage on his face. Seeing such an intense reaction out of him, well, he might as well have clamped a fist around my heart and squeezed it to a bloody pulp. The prospect of throwing Corinth to the very thing he wanted to annihilate was also worrisome. It was Alastair’s words of warning that had sealed it: They said if you do choose to go through tests to find out more about your situation… it would be strictly voluntary. What was that supposed to mean? What kinds of tests?
Alastair seemed antsy as soon as we entered the elevator; he kept bouncing on the balls of his feet, and his eyes had taken on the color of the churning ocean we’d left behind.
As we hit the ground floor, Corinth mumbled, “Well, that was fun.”
We followed Alastair, me taking up the rear behind Corinth. It was my job to watch his back. An ice-cream parlor filled with screaming kids could still be a lion’s den in disguise. Make note of the entrances and exits, and always stay alert, that’s what Dad had taught me. I tugged on the end of my long shirt-sleeves, making sure my vambraces were safely tucked away.
A light scent of bleach and orange citrus assailed me. What I didn’t expect, however, was the fresh scent of the outdoors. It was earthy and fresh and oddly comforting, not at all like being in a tunnel underground.
Alastair seemed to read my mind. “Not what you expected?”
I shook my head as he led us through a set of double doors at the end of the hallway, into a reception area with a stern-looking woman sitting behind a desk. She had a head full of curly dark hair, and a jawline that could cut glass. I was pretty sure she had been patiently awaiting our arrival, because when she saw us, her sharp eyes zeroed in on Corinth first, whose hand rested near his blade. I knew that cautionary look she was giving him, because I’d worn it many times before.
We were led into a comfy-looking reception area filled with chairs that were arranged around small tables and overly stuffed sofas. It had the charm and quaintness of a coffee shop. Mini trees in pots, like the one that marked the way here, lined the walls. Their red berries added a touch of color that made it feel even more welcoming and homey. The thing that surprised me most, though, was the panoramic view behind the receptionist’s window: a dark and swelling ocean, ebbing and receding with the undulating tide. I could almost smell the salt, feel the water hitting my face …
The woman behind the desk must have seen the impressed look on my face, because she said, “I like the desert better—more expansive and hot and uninhabited.” She inclined her head at a remote sitting on top of her desk. “It’s a projection.”
Corinth inched closer, examining it with interest. “It looks like I could just walk right on out for a swim.”
The receptionist turned her beady eyes back to him, and her frown returned, eyes skimming over his worn and muddy clothes—then back to the dagger strapped to his thigh and to the blood coating his elbows. He did look a mess.
She pushed clipboards at each of us. “Alastair Iszler, your visitors need to sign in.”
“What’s this?” I asked, eyeing the paperwork.
Her dark, impenetrable eyes pierced right through me. “An agreement that states we don’t condone weapons or violence. We are a peaceful clan.” She pointed at Corinth. “No riffraff.”
“Forget it—I can’t guarantee that there will be no riffraffery.” Corinth turned to leave, but Alastair caught his arm, stopping him.
“No weapons are allowed inside. We deal with rule breakers accordingly, or you can head back to where you came from.” She inclined her head again. “That especially includes the dark, tall one with the knife.”
Alastair spoke up, trying to stop the onslaught before it even started. “Stephanie, It was agreed beforehand that we keep our weapons. Please check with Sozo directly before you kick us out.”
The woman’s gaze could melt titanium, but Alastair wasn’t backing down either. I was only mildly surprised that he knew her name. I assumed he met her the last time he was here. His eyes were just as steely as Stephanie’s. Eventually, when she knew he wasn’t going to give up, she nodded and then reached across her desk to a small, round device.
Pushing down on the lid, it opened with a soft swoosh. She lifted a tiny earpiece to her ear and shoved it inside. Whoever was on the other line must have been expecting her call, because she didn’t say a word.
After a second, she only nodded, pulling the earpiece out; then dropped it back into its holder. The woman straightened her blouse in agitation, apparently not used to being told no. With an indignant sniff and a nod in Corinth’s direction, she said, “He still needs to sign the paperwork. And you two don’t have clearance to bring in weapons.” She pointed to Alastair and then me. “If he chooses to use the dagger on anyone, we will hold Alastair accountable. He is the one who vouched for the tall one.”
Corinth gave a reluctant nod. “It’s Corinth, ma’am.”
She waved her hand as if she didn’t think it was important enough to learn names.
After signing all of the paperwork, dotting all of the i’s, crossing all of the t’s, Alastair and I opened our backpacks so that she could search further. Once satisfied, Stephanie moved to another set of doors and motioned for us to follow.
Corinth’s hand never left the blade’s handle. I didn’t let her know my pocketknife was hidden inside the interior of my vest, and my vambraces were still at my wrists. No one was taking them from me.
As soon as we walked through another set of expansive double doors at the end of the corridor, I heard an alarm sound so loud it could boil ear-wax. Red lights flooded on overhead and the doors slammed shut behind us. Several guards arrived to block our entry into the complex. All of them were wearing white pant-suits with gold trim on the sleeves. Even though the guards looked feng-shui-laid-back, they all still had stern looks on their faces.
I knew what they were after, so I held my hands up, showing compliance as soon as they focused all their attention on me.
One of the first guards stepped up, pulling out a device that looked a lot like a baton, except this was powered—he had his thumb on a trigger, like a gun. Something told me I didn’t want to find out if it worked like one either.
Alastair’s hands were balled into fists by his sides. He had inched his way into my line of sight, his eyes hard, just like the night Gabriel had come into my room-turned-prison-cell at his manor. I gave a minute shake of my head, indicating Alastair should back down. He shook his head vigorously to let me know his extreme disagreement.
Corinth had his dagger in hand almost as if by magic. That’s what gave me pause. I knew he could take out these guys if he wanted to. We didn’t need to start a war before we even got inside though.
“It’s okay,” I said evenly. “There’s no problem here, guys. I just forgot to take out my pocketknife.” I pulled the small blade from the inside of my vest, holding it up for them to see.
By now there were five more guards circling us like vultures, all of them looking more nervous and jumpier by the minute. One younger man who looked to be in his twenties, accidentally pressed his thumb down on the mystery button, and it crackled to life, sending sparks shooting out of one end. He jerked back in surprise, as if he hadn’t pressed the button in a really long time and had forgotten what it did.
I guess we all know now.
Their eyes kept darting back to Corinth and the blade. I think they’d come to the same conclusion that it hadn’t been a good idea to show force right away. I’m sure they’d heard enough rumors to make him a cautionary tale. They seemed confused, frightened, and agitated all at the same time.
“Wow, you guys really take this no-weapon thing seriously,” I muttered. “And apparently the X-rays are impeccably well hidden,” I added under my breath.
An authoritative voice broke over the rest of the guard’s grumbled murmurs. “Leave them be. I am sure our guests meant no harm.” A man materialized from behind the security detail. He stood regally tall, wearing stately robes that had a pearlescent sheen to them, and the end of his sleeves were striped with intricate silver filigree patterns that suggested a leadership role or dignitary. He had a thin, angular face, with jet-black hair swept to one side. He looked like a horse had kicked him in his jaw—it appeared to be off-kilter, but strangely, only seemed to make his appearance that much more striking. I couldn’t decide if he was attractive or the exact opposite. I decided to go with attractive.
In order to keep the diplomacy, I said, “I am sorry. It was not my intention to pull one over on you.”
“No apologies necessary,” he said smoothly. “As a sign of good faith, please, keep your weapons.”
I inclined my head in thanks and the guards, realizing we were no longer a threat, dispersed accordingly to let us pass.
Corinth sheathed his blade back at his hip. The tension left Alastair’s shoulders but I could see the alertness in his eyes, as he had appeared on edge ever since we’d stepped off the elevator.
“I am Sozo.” He turned his attention immediately to Corinth, his gaze slowly sliding down to the blade in curiosity. “You must be Corinth Taylor. I’ve heard a lot about you. You and your group are welcome here.”
Corinth looked around at the surrounding security detail and to more guards behind him. “We appreciate your hospitality. I know it couldn’t have been an easy decision to let some guy wander in off the streets with a dangerous weapon …” His hand lingered near the hilt of his dagger. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to make a point, have a dig, or if he was truly sincere—maybe all three. Corinth did babble when he was nervous.
But if Sozo felt threatened, he didn’t show it. “It is a pleasure to meet you all. I must warn you that there are a lot of curious people who want to know all about you. I have chosen to speak in front of them today to allay any fears you or my people might have toward one another.” He took in our ragged and filthy appearances. “But if you’d like to get cleaned up first—”
Corinth stepped forward, suddenly a lot more sure of himself than I thought him capable of right now. “No—let’s get this over with.”
A nervous, prickling sensation bloomed in my chest at the thought of being introduced to a crowd of people without being properly prepared for it or cleaned up. I tried to smooth my hair back down. I’m sure I looked a fright. I pulled a face at him as he passed, wondering why he would want to rush into this. I guess I didn’t blame him. If you were going to decide to stay in a place full of vamps and you had the one weapon designed to hurt them, well, I’d also want to know right away if I would fit in.
“Excellent,” Sozo said, sounding pleased. “If you would follow me into our meeting hall, we can get the introductions out of the way. I am sure you are tired from your long journey. I have your quarters set up and ready to go once we are done. There are extra clothes in the wardrobes as well.”
“A warm bed and meal sound great,” Corinth piped up quickly.
We fell in line behind Sozo, and then his detail fell in line behind us.
I whispered to Corinth on our way out. “Are you trying to make yourself a target? You’re covered in blood and about to enter a room full of vamps that drink blood.”
He let out a deep sigh. “I’m already a target—I need to know what I’m walking into here.” His eyebrows drew together. “At least this way, I can decide if we need to turn right back around and leave in a hurry.”
I didn’t want to say it out loud, but I was pretty sure we were both thinking it: if they let us leave. One thing bothered me: for a society claiming to be peaceful, they had already shown an unnecessary amount of force. It reminded me of winding my way through gravestones at St. Owens with Gabriel’s clan gawking at us like we were freaks. Why had my dad sent us here in the first place? There had to be a reason—I just couldn’t see it yet. That’s why I’d been studying his journal more closely. Maybe there was something else in it that I was missing.
The corridors were exceptionally white, and the floors scrubbed clean. Nothing was out of place; not even a speck of dirt or piece of trash littered the hallways.
As we entered through a set of large wooden double doors, I found myself marveling at the intricate designs and Celtic knots carved deeply into the ancient wood. I wanted to study the symbols more closely, but we were being ushered through quickly and I needed to keep an eye on Corinth, now more than ever. If something was to happen to him, it would probably be in a room full of a hundred pairs of prying eyes, where opportunity lay.
Glancing around, my mouth hanging open, I realized this was no ordinary meeting hall. It was like walking into a courtroom the size of a stadium, except instead of the podium or a giant iron throne center stage, there was a massive rectangular iron table—and it was standing room only. There were hundreds of people filling the room. From the young to old, small and large, all races, sizes, and ethnicities. The seats were higher up in the back so that people in the nosebleeds could get a bird’s eye view of the proceedings.
As soon as we entered, a buzzing of nervous, excited chatter filled the room. Panic, curiosity, fear; all emotions as palpable as anything I’d ever felt before. Their whispered words hung in the air: “slayer,” “hunter,” “threat”.
Your entertainment has arrived.
I found myself immediately disoriented by the crowds surrounding us on all sides. We should have gotten cleaned up first. People were packed in close, making it harder to work our way through the throngs of onlookers. Fortunately, as they saw us approach, they fell silent and parted to let us pass.
Corinth’s shoulders were pushed back, his posture rigid and guarded as he stopped behind Alastair.
On any normal day, I’m sure Sozo commanded the attention of every single person in the room.
But today, Corinth was the main attraction.
The walk from the giant oak doors to the iron table seemed to last forever. As soon as it became visible through the parting of people, I was able to see the seven-foot-tall man wearing a stylish tan linen suit and a fedora on his head. Right away, by Corinth’s description, I knew this man was Dave—the healer who had shown up in Corinth’s dream. My gaze landed on him as an unexpected and overwhelming hush fell over the entire assembly. I heard Corinth inhale as he laid eyes on the tall stranger at the same time I did.
He stopped to let me catch up, and as soon as I came up beside him, he said, “That guy in the linen suit… that’s Dave… the dude from my dream.” His mouth fell slightly open. “He’s real… I mean, I hoped he would be, but I still wasn’t sure …”
If we could get answers from this Dave guy, it might have been well worth coming here.
Everyone was curious to hear about the new arrivals now standing dead center in front of the iron table. The murmuring and excited chatter died down as everyone seemed to realize that the sooner they quietened down, the sooner they’d have answers.
People collectively took their seats as my eyes scanned the overcrowded venue. I felt the twist of trepidation in my gut as I saw the flickers of emotion cross people’s faces. They all had the same look in their eyes: curiosity, fear, and apprehension. Our arrival had apparently been filled with much speculation. We’d been warring with Gabriel’s clan for eight long months, and in those months, Corinth had made a name for himself. Running, hiding, fighting—we’d been so out of touch with the outside world that we didn’t know what kind of impact we even had on it.
Surrounded by all these people, I kept thinking about the price on Corinth’s head and how far some might go to get a payday. Alastair’s caution had definitely been warranted. These rampant thoughts made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
So consumed with everything going on, I didn’t notice the swell of excited chatter begin once again, as if the spectators around us were witnessing something we couldn’t see. The excited buzz of hundreds of people all talking at once increased until we couldn’t hear anything else. I found myself looking around in curiosity, to try and find out what everyone thought was more interesting than Corinth.
Alastair’s hand shot out, and he was pulling me roughly back, his grip so firm on my arm it hurt. My eyes narrowed in concern and annoyance. I started to question him, but as soon as I saw the look on his face I stopped, my heart leaping into my throat.
He had gone from watchful and cagey, to panic-stricken and ashen. It was like the wind had been sucked right out of him. Seeing that look on his face made my inner voice cry out: Don’t look. Don’t follow his line of sight. You don’t want to see what he’s staring at.
I couldn’t help it—
There was no option but to look.
When my eyes locked on what Alastair was glaring at, the world around me faded, then folded in on itself like a collapsing star. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew Alastair’s hand had tightened around my arm to a bone-crushing degree, but right now I only felt a sort of shocked numbness.
Suffocating and all-consuming, I suddenly found that breathing felt like a foreign concept.
His scar was the same as I remembered: an uneven line zigzagging down from his left eye to his cheek, standing out against copper skin. He wore a well-tailored suit and had a nauseatingly sure-of-himself smirk that matched it. Aside from the scar, his skin was so smooth he looked like he was carved out of wax. Dark hair curled just over the tops of his collar. Tyrant. Killer. Deceiver. Gabriel Stanton. I didn’t know what I expected him to look like when I saw him again, maybe for those ink-jet eyes to hold a healthy dose of fear, but it proved to be the exact opposite. I’d been waiting a long time to look him in the eyes again.
We’d been warned not to do any harm to anyone here. Unfortunately, there was no question I was going to hold back. The vambraces burned at my wrists: an itch to spill blood. His blood.