“Hi,” I say.
“Hello,” the human says back. “Would you like me to sit up?”
I approach slowly and take a seat beside him. “However you’re comfortable is fine.”
Surprise passes over his features. He stares at me. “You have lavender eyes.”
Does this guy not know who I am? Not that I particularly enjoy being recognized—it’s just so rare that someone doesn’t, especially in light of recent news broadcasts. You know, exiled from the royal family, mother killed on live television. Just normal, totally mundane things. “Uh, yeah,” I say. “I’m half-human, but I still need blood to survive.”
“Do you eat human food, as well?” He props himself up on his elbow. His voice is so full of curiosity, I can’t bring myself to feel irritated by the delay. The monster disagrees, but she’s more subdued today. Maybe she doesn’t enjoy hangovers, either.
“Except for meat, yes.” I press my lips together and lean against the back of the chair. “Hey, aren’t you a little young to be doing this?”
The feeder shrugs, and the gesture makes a scraping sound against the paper sheet. “I’m twenty-four. The cost of living is high where I live, so I do this to make ends meet.”
I try not to frown. “I see.”
“Do you like to bite somewhere specific, ma’am?”
“Not really,” I answer. He offers me his wrist. I wrap my fingers around it as my fangs slide down. At the sight of my sharp teeth, the boy closes his eyes. Not in fear, but anticipation. I sink my fangs into his wrist and let the blood flow freely into my mouth. I swallow greedily, again and again, until the ache in my muscles is gone and my senses sharpen. Soft moans from the other feeding rooms make my pulse race as delicious warmth spreads through me. I pull back and focus on the sound of my feeder’s heart, listening for the moment I know will come shortly, when I’ll need to stop drinking his blood.
Once I’m done, I retract my fangs and lick my lips. “Thank you,” I say softly.
The human’s eyes are hazy when he opens them. “You’re welcome. I’m Deacon, by the way.”
I smile at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Deacon. I’m Charlie.”
“Will you be at Alexander’s long?” he asks. His words slur ever so slightly, my venom running through his bloodstream. He’s likely feeling high as a kite right about now.
It takes me a minute to respond, mostly because I’m a little shocked a feeder is asking such personal questions, and so casually. Maybe he isn’t intimidated because I’m partly human. His mistake, the monster croons from within.
“I’m not sure,” I finally answer, thinking of the traitor I’m still not any closer to finding. The Vampire King didn’t exactly put a deadline on his task, though I imagine—as anything with the man—he wants it done yesterday.
“Well, I hope to see you again, Charlie.”
I stand and head for the door. “Take care of yourself, Deacon.”
Closing the door behind me, I walk back to the reception desk. The same chipper man is standing there. “I hope our feeder was to your liking,” he chirps.
“Very much so,” I tell him. “I was wondering if it’s possible to leave a tip for him?”
The concierge blinks. “For the feeder?”
“Yes. I’d also like to formally request him each time I visit, so please arrange his schedule accordingly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” I walk out of the feeder suite feeling rejuvenated but confused. I’m not sure how I feel about feeding exclusively on Deacon, or why I even requested it, but there was something about him. Maybe I saw a bit of myself in the human, because of how he’s forced to do dangerous things to make ends meet. To take care of himself.
After a short, restless nap, I tie my hair back and switch out my flats for running shoes to make the trip to the Public Works building. My stomach churns when I think about seeing Drew and Nina.
Despite my anxiety, though, I’m the first to arrive at the warehouse. I go through the motions of changing into my gear and strapping a sword to my back. I’m leaving the weapons room when the others walk in.
“Charlie!” Leo calls. “You trying to brown-nose Bill? What’re you going here so early?”
I force out a laugh. “Oh, yeah. That’s it—I’m really holding out for a big pay raise.”
The rest of the group laughs, but the sound dies on my lips when Drew and Nina walk into the room. A lump forms in my throat. I swallow hard and try to smile. When Drew looks away and Nina just glares at me, the smile falls off my face, and I hurry out of the small room. I know I need to apologize to her again—or at least try to—but the weapons room probably isn’t the best place. All those clubs and swords within easy reach.
Apparently, fate is on my side today, because Bill pairs the two of us together before we descend to the sewers.
I keep my mouth shut as we ride the elevator. I remain silent when we start down the tunnel we’ve been assigned. I wait until I feel as if I’m going to burst if I don’t say something. “Look, Nina—”
“Keep your apology,” she cuts me off, whirling toward me. Her goggles shine beneath the fluorescent lights. “I don’t want it. In fact, all I want from you is to stay the hell away from me and my brother.”
I stand there and blink at her for a few seconds before I find my voice. “I was assigned to the sewer sector, Nina. I can’t exactly control our proximity here.”
“Your problem,” she says and walks away.
I exhale over the tinny sound of water dripping off concrete around me. Nina doesn’t wait for me, and I don’t bother trying to catch up—I’ve accepted the fact I’ve been ditched. I know these tunnels well enough now that it doesn’t bother me, but I wish there was something I could do to make Nina consider forgiving me. I didn’t expect to mourn such a brief friendship.
Maybe Drew hates me, too. By the blood, we need to talk about what happened.
A blow from behind sends spots dancing across my vision.
I reach for the sword at my back and spin. Panic rushes through me, like ice in my veins, when I come face to face with a weeper.
I hold the sword in front of me. “Stay back,” I warn shakily.
The weeper is female. Her balding hair hangs in dirty blond strands around what’s left of her face. Hollowed cheeks, black eye sockets, and mostly missing teeth. She reeks of death and decay.
I try to hold my breath as I widen my stance to fight. “I’m sorry,” I tell the creature who was not always this way.
She swings her arm out and wails, the sound echoing off the stone walls. Maggots fly from her mouth, and I swallow a gag, backing up even more as I hold my weapon steady. The cold, hard wall meets my back, and I suck in a breath. No more defensive maneuvers, I think frantically. I need to kill this weeper before it bites me.
With a deep breath, I bend my knees slightly, readying myself.
“There is no sanity in the dark. There is only chaos,” the weeper whispers. The blackness where her eyes used to be is fixed on something over my shoulder.
I freeze. “You... you can speak?”