Black City Page 33


Sebastian presses his sword into the back of my neck.


Panic surges in me.


“Who should die?” he says to me.


He lifts his sword and points it at the twin-blood boy instead.


“Seb, don’t!” Natalie cries out.


“Who’s it going to be, Fisher? You or him?” he says.


The boy’s hand tightens around mine. Sweat trickles down his brow, dripping into his sparkling black eyes. Eyes just like mine.


“Me,” I say.


“No!” Natalie shouts.


Sebastian raises his sword and swings. I shut my eyes, waiting for the pain. There’s the gruesome squelch of metal on flesh. Something hot and sticky splashes over my face and hair.


I open my eyes. The twin-blood boy’s lifeless eyes stare back at me, asking just one question: Why me?


I smash my fists against the cobbles as grief rips through me. Sebastian never intended to let the boy live. Natalie rushes over and helps me to my feet.


“Why did you do it?” she says to Sebastian.


He gives her a cold, frightening smile. “Because I can.”


I flash my fangs at Sebastian, wanting nothing more than to rip his fragging head off.


“Don’t,” she whispers to me.


“That’s what happens to race traitors,” he says to Natalie, then waves his men on.


One of the female cadets turns to her friend, her voice shaking. “Do you think the other cadets are doing this?”


The other cadets . . .


My heart stops beating.


My mind flashes back to Sebastian’s conversation with Gregory at Mr. Tubs’s and how he was being sent on a hunt in the Rise.


“Mom!” I say, terror rushing through me.


I grab Natalie’s hand and break out into a sprint, dragging her along with me. She struggles to keep up, stumbling more than once.


“Stop! Please . . . ,” Natalie pants.


I don’t have time to wait. I scoop her up in my arms and keep running. I don’t stop until we reach my house.


“Dad!” I yell, running down to the crypt.


But Gregory is already standing in the center of the room, his sword drawn. Even in the dim light, I can see the line of blood oozing down the metal blade. Next to him is Dad, hunched over a skeletal figure on the floor. I don’t move. I can’t.


Dad stands up and walks toward me.


“Son,” he whispers.


That’s when I see her face, partially covered by a few limp strands of dark hair. I see past the rotting flesh, the thin black lips, and picture the woman she used to be. Her head is tilted to one side as if she’s asleep.


Mom.


“How could you?” Natalie says to Gregory. “You monster!”


I charge at Gregory, slamming him against the wall. His feet kick at thin air as my hand clenches his skinny throat.


“Ash, let him go. You’re not a killer. Your mother wouldn’t want this,” Dad says.


Gregory’s fingers claw at my hands.


“You’re killing him,” Natalie says, trying to pull me off him.


“Why?” I scream at him.


“It’s . . . your fault . . . Chris is dead,” Gregory gasps.


“I didn’t give him that Golden Haze, Linus did,” I snarl.


“But he . . . asked you first, and you said no. If you’d given him the Haze . . . he wouldn’t have . . . he wouldn’t have gone to Linus. It’s your fault he’s dead,” Gregory says, his eyes filled with pain.


“Ash.” The word is just a whisper.


I drop Gregory and wheel around. Mom stirs on the ground. I thought she was dead!


Gregory runs out of the crypt before I can finish what I started.


Mom sucks in a raspy, painful breath as sticky blood oozes out of the wound in her chest. I kneel beside her and desperately cling to her hand. I don’t see the Wrath in her anymore, just the woman she used to be. My mom.


“I’m sorry I left you . . . ,” she says. “Forgive me, my sweet boy.”


“I forgive you,” I say.


She faintly squeezes my hand.


“Don’t leave me, Mom. Please . . .”


I feel her slipping away.


“I love you,” I say.


She exhales.


“Please don’t die.”


Her fingers slip through mine.


“Mom?” I whisper.


There’s silence.


“Mom?”


Dad touches my shoulder. “She’s gone, son.”


Natalie wraps her arms around me, kissing my cheek, not saying anything. We stay like that for what seems like an eternity. I don’t want to move. As soon as I do, then the world will start turning again and then it’s real. Mom’s dead. Somewhere in the distance, I hear singing. A mournful, heartbreaking lament. I know it’s Sigur. His dual heart must’ve stopped beating.


“We need to get her ready for So’Kamor,” I say, referring to the Darkling ritual for the dead.


Dad doesn’t hear me at first. He holds Mom’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb over her index finger where she used to wear her wedding ring. Darklings believe the index finger is directly linked to their dual heart. That’s why they wear their rings there.


“Dad?”


“She should be with her own kind,” he says quietly. “We’ll bring her to the boundary gates after curfew. Sigur will let us in.”


* * *


Natalie pulls me into a hug the instant we’re alone in my bedroom.


“You don’t need to be here,” I say, my voice choked with emotion. “I know you’re still mad at me.”


She lightly kisses me. Even through my grief, I ache for her.


“I love you, Ash. Let me be here for you.”


Taking my hand, she leads me to the bed. We climb under the covers. She places a hand over my heart, opening a channel between us. Soul Sharing. All my emotions instantly flood into her, my pain, my sorrow, my heartbreak. She absorbs it all, sharing it with me so I don’t have to suffer it alone.


I stroke her skin, kiss her lips, run my hands over her legs, needing her. There’s no embarrassment as our inquisitive fingers and lips explore each other’s bodies. We silently remove our clothes, dropping them to the floor. I take a lingering look at her before lying down and pulling her toward me. Her body fits perfectly against mine, like we’re two halves of the same whole.


“I love you, Ash,” she says.


“I love you too,” I say. “So begins my heart . . .”


“So begins our life,” she whispers back, remembering the words I told her the night we first kissed on Beetle’s barge.


“Everlasting,” we say together.


The Blood Vow. We’re now united under Darkling law.


I tilt my head to one side, offering my throat to her to consummate our union. Natalie runs a fingernail down my skin and tiny beads of blood bubble out of the wound. She gently licks the blood away.


Sitting up, Natalie scoops her hair to one side to reveal the two puncture wounds on her neck. I hesitate, remembering what happened before at the mansion.


“It’s all right,” she whispers. “I trust you.”


I lightly scratch the scars with the tips of my fangs, opening the wound, and press my lips to her neck. Her hot blood spills over my tongue. It takes all my strength to only drink a few drops, sealing our bond.


She lies back down, and without another word, I maneuver myself on top of her, being as gentle as possible. She lets out a small gasp, then it’s just bliss. All thought of nerves vanish as we kiss each other and let instinct guide our way.


Later, I hold Natalie as she dreams, her head resting on my chest. I can’t sleep, although I wish I could. I know Dad will be knocking on my door soon, telling me it’s time to leave.


Rain splashes through the open window, hitting the bell with a melodic dong-dong-dong. The air smells fresh, rinsed. Mom would’ve liked it. From the stories Dad told me, I know she loved the rain. Natalie stirs, and I kiss her head.


I get out of bed and walk to the window. The chilled night air prickles my skin, and I shiver, but I don’t turn from the cold. I stare across the cityscape toward the Boundary Wall, which carves its way through the center of the city like a concrete spine.


The city is deathly still. Lights are out, streets are empty, the world is silent. I go over to the sink in the corner of my room and run some water through my hair, washing the dirt and blood out of it, thinking about the twin-blood boy. I wish I’d known he was in the city. I would’ve visited him and let him know he wasn’t alone. In a small way, seeing him has given me hope that maybe there are more twin-bloods out there, not just me and Evangeline.


I return to the archway and tilt my face up to the moonlit sky. The Darkling in me awakens, lured by the night. I let out a lamenting howl, singing my sorrow for all my brethren to hear. In the distance, my song is picked up by another Darkling, then another, until the entire city is alive with their unearthly music. “We are here. You are not alone, brother,” they sing back. “We love you.”


Natalie stirs.


“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” I say.


“It’s okay,” she replies sleepily.


There’s a soft knock at my door.


Natalie pulls the covers around herself as Dad enters the room. He glances at her quickly, but doesn’t say anything.


I’m surprised to see he’s shaved off his beard, and he seems taller, like the weight of the world has lifted off his shoulders. He’s wearing a smart gray robe, the one he saves for funerals.


“It’s time,” he says.


30


ASH


WE WAIT BY THE IRON GATES as the Legion guard goes to inform Sigur we’re here. The part of the wall that was damaged in the bombing has been crudely reconstructed, and just a single squad of Sentry guards patrols it. We held back until they went on their rounds before approaching the gates.


Natalie peers up at the Legion guards patrolling the wall.


“Don’t worry—they won’t hurt you,” I say softly. “They’re not allowed to attack unless Sigur or his kin orders it.”


The iron gates open, and we step inside the Legion. It’s even worse than I remember. Debris from the bomb is scattered about the wet, stinking earth, and numerous shacks have collapsed. Hundreds of glittering black eyes peer at us from the buildings as I cradle Mom’s body in my arms. She’s wrapped in her Lupine-fur coat—the one Dad got her on their wedding day. He keeps resting his hand on her, muttering soothing words under his breath as if she can hear him. Natalie puts a hand over her mouth as the sights and smells of the compound assault her.


Evangeline is waiting for us, surrounded by two dozen guards. She stares at my mom’s body, her eyes watering. Natalie steps closer to me.


“Sorry about the cavalry. It’s safer this way.” Evangeline nods toward the emaciated Darklings who have come out of their homes, lured by our human scent.


Our escorts jab them with sticks, keeping them away from us. Dad murmurs a prayer.


“Stay close,” I say to Natalie.


Something brushes past my leg. A young Darkling boy runs between us and lunges for Natalie, sinking its fangs into her leg. She screams, and one of the guards pulls the child off. Blood drips down Natalie’s shin, and the Darklings howl.


“Move!” the lead escort says to us.


We run to the boat. I hold on to Mom as my feet slip and slide in the mud. I shouldn’t have brought Natalie here; it was selfish. What was I thinking? Dad takes her hand and guards her. I give him a thankful smile.


Sigur approaches us, letting out a throaty growl. The Darklings back off immediately. They still respect the alpha, no matter how hungry they are. He glares at Natalie.


“What is she doing here?” he says.


“She’s with me. You can trust her,” I say.


Evangeline lets out a derisive snort.


“You should not have brought her here. You’ve put us all at great risk,” Sigur says.


“Please, I need her. You of all people should understand,” I reply.


Sigur glances briefly at my heart. So he can hear my heartbeat? He must understand how I feel about her, then.


“My father gave his life for you, Ambassador,” Natalie says to Sigur. “You trusted him—you can trust me. I’m not like my mother. I don’t agree with anything she’s doing.”


“The first sign of trouble, and she must return immediately,” he says to me.


I nod.


We climb into the rowboats and cross over to the zoo. Natalie dabs the Darkling bite on her leg with a tissue.


“I’m sorry about them,” Sigur says, meaning the Darklings. “The Emissary cut off our food supply when the wall was bombed.”


“My mother did that? Why?” Natalie says.


“The Sentry government thinks we collaborated with Humans for Unity to bomb the wall. It’s just another thing to blame on us. Whatever helps them pass Rose’s Law,” he says.


At the zoo, Sigur leads us into a small chamber carved out of the rock. The room is lit by torchlight, casting long shadows around the circular room. There’s a stone altar in the center of the chamber, with an enamel urn on top of it. Sigur places the urn on the floor, and I gently rest Mom on the altar. She looks so small and frail wrapped up in the fur coat.


Sigur tentatively peels back the blanket and looks at Mom. He starts to sob.


“She’s at peace now,” Dad says, his voice cracking.


Sigur embraces Dad. It’s so bizarre, looking at them comforting each other, united in their grief.


Tears spill down Evangeline’s cheeks. We both lost a mother tonight.


“You should go to her. She needs you,” Natalie says.

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