***

  The shrieking scream of the woman in his arms was not what woke Apollo first. Her balled fist punching him in the face is what jolted him from his slumber. She scrambled to get out of his lap while her hands punched uncontrollably in the air.

  Apollo jumped up and tried to grab her hands, but once she worked her way out of his lap and landed on her feet, she was fast. She turned and ran, howling like a dying animal—screaming as if her life teetered on the edge of existence.

  Apollo wanted to quiet her when he jumped off the boulder and ran after her. Her screeching was going to alert the clan of their whereabouts.

  He saw no other way than to tackle her. He knew he had to time his jump precisely. When he saw the opportunity, he leaped into the air and landed on her back, bringing her down hard to the ground. He heard her grunt and felt her slide against the forest floor. When she did not move beneath his body, he became concerned.

  He quickly jumped off her and turned her over. Her eyes were open, her mouth trembling, and then her fingernails raked across his face and reached to gouge his eyes. Apollo straddled her, grabbed both her wrists in one hand, and slammed them to the dirt. He then covered her mouth with his other hand.

  “Stop it! Stop it! You’re going to get us killed! Calm down, I won’t hurt you. Please,” he whispered through his teeth.

  Sophie’s eyes were fearful while she flung her head back and forth, trying to get out of the restraints of Apollo’s hands. She tried to scream and bite at his hand that covered her mouth. She used her hips to thrust up, trying desperately to get him off her.

  “Sophie!” Apollo yelled.

  She instantly stopped. Confusion crossed her face, her eyes softened to a questioning glare.

  “Please, Sophie. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m hiding just like you, but if you keep screaming like this, you’re going to get us both killed. Now, can I take my hand off your mouth?”

  She nodded, still glaring at him inquisitively. Her eyes were still frightened, but in a questioning gaze.

  Apollo removed his hand slowly. “I’m going to let your hands go, too. Please, don’t do anything rash; I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

  Apollo slowly released her hands and moved to her side. He was still cautious that she might try to strike out again. He watched her closely, taking in every move she made. She watched him with the same intensity—the same curiosity.

  Sophie sat up and scooted further away from him—not sure what to make of the dried mud over his face, hair and hands. She controlled her breathing but kept her eyes on him. She saw his cheek where she had used her nails to scrape past the mud and tear into his skin. He was dripping blood. “Who are you? Why were you holding me?” she asked.

  “Apollo . . . my name is Apollo. I found you alone, hiding in a bush. You were scared. You seemed hurt and cold, so I was trying to keep you warm.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because you were in shock and if I left you in that bush, you would have frozen to death.” Apollo’s eyes searched her face. He wanted to know everything about her, but he knew he needed to start with the basics. “Why are you out here?”

  “I don’t know. I-I don’t remember. I know something horrible happened, but I can’t remember what it was.”

  Apollo knew that she was in shock when he had found her hiding in the bushes. Once her body found warmth against his, she came out of the mental state of shock she was in and forgot that he had helped her.

  “Listen, we’re in danger sitting out here like this. I’m trying to find my way out of the forest. Do you remember how you got here?”

  “No, I was running. I was running away from something.” She drew her eyebrows together. She tried to remember what it was that brought her into the forest.

  “Okay, never mind. We have to keep moving.” Apollo reached down, scooped mud into his hands and reached for her arm.

  Sophie pulled away.

  “Trust me, please. We want to throw off our scent,” he pleaded with her. “I will explain everything later, but for now, please trust me. We have to go.”

  Sophie, although hesitant at first, reached down, scooped a handful of mud, and smeared it on her skin. She repeated the process until she looked like a wet version of the dried mud on Apollo. “What are we running from?”

  “Creatures that want to hurt us.” He wanted to tell her more, tell her about his family and their secret, but now was not the time. He knew every minute they wasted sitting, talking or sleeping in the forest was going to give those vampires a chance to catch up to them. “Give me your hand; I need you to keep up with me.”

  He applied more mud to the wound on his face where her nails had torn into his skin. After he had buried the scent of his blood beneath the mud, they took off running through the forest trees.

  Their pace was steady, dodging around the low-hanging tree branches and maneuvering between massive tree trunks. Apollo knew they were running south, away from his home. But, he was not sure if south was the direction they wanted to go. He figured if they ran away from the vampire cave, the better off they would be. With his bow and arrow gripped tightly in his hand, he glanced back every so often to make sure Sophie was behind him. Suddenly, Apollo slowed down to catch his breath.

  “What happened? Why are we stopping?”

  “I just want to catch my breath, but we need to keep moving.”

  “Are we going the right way?”

  “Honestly, I’ve no idea. I just think we need to keep moving, and we’ll eventually get out of here.” Apollo suddenly stopped and leaned his shoulder against a tree. His left hand flew up to his chest, and his breathing intensified.

  Sophie saw him struggle to take in air. She ran back to him. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

  “My heart—I’m getting a pain in my chest,” he explained, struggling to talk.

  “What can I do? Tell me what to do and I’ll help you.”

  “Oh, man,” he gasped as he fell to his knees still holding his hand over his chest. He leaned his head against the tree and closed his eyes.

  “Please, don’t die. Don’t leave me out here,” she begged, kneeling in front of him and wrapping her arms around his body.

  Apollo focused on his breathing. He slowed his heaving chest and sucked in the air slowly, releasing it even slower. He could feel his pulse pounding and his blood bubbling. Minutes felt like hours. He centered his mind and his body to try to defuse the bomb in his chest. His heart was beating entirely too fast.

  Like the dimming fire under a boiling pot of water, he began to feel his blood lose velocity and flow easier through his veins. The pain in his chest subsided, and he could feel himself begin to breathe easy again.

  “I’m okay. I’m better now,” he whispered in Sophie’s ear.

  Her body was up against his. Her head resting on his shoulder and her fingers clasped together against his back. She lifted her head and pulled back just far enough to gaze into his eyes. The full moon provided enough light for her to see his features clearly. Something about him . . . something about her . . . there was a bond that seemed entirely too strong for two people that had just met.

  Apollo got up and extended his hand to help her stand. She locked her hands in his with trust. For once, it seemed they were both able to see past their muddy circumstances and connect with a submissive gaze.

  Apollo felt an emotion he had never felt before—a desire that pulled at his inner need. He could feel his blood start to simmer again, and he quickly looked away out of shyness. He nervously ran his hand through his red, muddy hair and turned his back, clearing his throat.

  Sophie reached up and rested her hand on his back. “Has this ever happened before? The pain-in-your-chest thing?”

  “It’s happened often since I was young. A few times a month, if I’m overly active or my adrenaline is pumping too fast then my body will feel like it’s on fire. There are times that my chest will feel as if it’s going to explode.”


  “What has the doctor said?” she asked concerned.

  He could have told her that his father had a medical background, but he was not ready to open Pandora’s Box.

  “I haven’t been to a doctor about it. I don’t need one; I’m okay. We should keep moving.”

  They both navigated by moonlight and the use of their hands in order to get around tree branches and bushes. They were quiet, both processing their thoughts. Using the silence as a time to reflect and try to understand everything that had happened in the last few hours. Finally, Sophie broke the silence.

  “What were you doing out here?” she asked.

  Apollo was hesitant before he spoke, remembering Ori telling him that no one could know about his family or the land that his family occupied. He shrugged at his thoughts. “I was raised in a house deep in the forest.”

  “So, you should be familiar with this area and how to get out of here,” she commented.

  “I’ve never been this far away. We were restricted.” He glanced at her, trying to see her expression in the dark. The trees were especially thick, and the moonlight was not filtering through as it was before.

  “That’s sad. Why would they keep you locked up like that?”

  “My father told me and my sister that it was for our own protection.”

  “Protection from what?”

  “I don’t know. I left because I didn’t feel safe. My family wanted me to protect their horrible secrets. We found out about things that put us at risk. Unfortunately, my sister is still there because she refused to come with me. I still don’t know why she stayed; I just know that I don’t want to go back.” His thoughts traveled to his sister’s smile, her competitive nature. He missed her dearly.

  “You have a sister?”

  “Yeah, she’s my twin.”

  “It must be cool to have someone that looks like you,” she said.

  “Actually, we don’t look anything alike. She got the looks, I got the brains.” He tried to find humor while they were dealing with their challenging situation.

  “I think you two shared the looks.”

  “My sister looks more like my father, and I resemble my mother. Father said I got Mum’s genes and Amaya got his.”

  “Well, your mom is beautiful then,” she shyly whispered. “Where is your family from?”

  “Mum is Spanish and Irish. My father is English. He met my mother in England when they were teenagers. Eventually they married and . . .” Apollo’s voice trailed off, and he was silent for a few seconds.

  Sophie knew something dreadful must have happened. “And then?” she asked hesitantly.

  “She died during childbirth.”

  “That’s horrible. I can’t . . .”

  Apollo stopped abruptly, which caught Sophie’s attention. He stared at her, which made her fidget uncomfortably.

  “What?” she asked.

  Apollo did not move; instead, he continued to stare at her with his eyebrows furrowed. Then he lifted his index finger and placed it gently against his lips, hushing Sophie from saying another word.

  She looked around the area surrounded by trees. The subtle rustling of bushes nearby kept her head turning from one side to the other.

  “Something’s not right. I’m sensing we’re being watched,” he whispered.

  Sophie moved in closer to Apollo, gripping on to his right, muddy arm. They stood in complete silence, as if waiting for the worst to happen.

  Finally, Apollo wrapped his hand over hers and continued walking with caution in the same direction they had been. After a few moments, she broke the silence.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your mother.”

  Apollo kept her close to him while his eyes scanned every direction as they walked, searching for a way out of the forest. He could feel Sophie shiver. He took his right arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her even closer to him. In an attempt to keep her from panicking over what he sensed, he turned his mouth near her ear and whispered, “Where do you live?”

  “Billings, Montana.”

  Apollo shook his head, “I’ve seen that on a map. That’s pretty far, isn’t it?” he asked, as the two of them ducked under a low branch.

  “It’s about twelve hours from here.”

  “What are you doing out here, so far away from your home?”

  Sophie smiled, “My dad wanted to take us out here for a getaway, so we could . . .” Sophie stopped in mid-stride. Horror and shock swept across her face as she sucked in her breath. Tears welled up in her eyes. Her heart was pounding faster and harder. She backed up as she remembered why she was in the middle of the forest.

  “What’s wrong?” Apollo raced to her side.

  She could not speak; the horror of her thoughts constricted her throat. She was finding it hard to breathe. She needed to catch her breath, so she could scream. “Oh, no . . .” she cried. She pushed Apollo’s hand away from her. Her voice was low, strained and unfamiliar to herself.

  “Sophie, please.” Apollo wrapped his hands around her arms, holding her tight as her legs buckled from under her; he helped her fall to the ground slowly.

  “They took my family! I saw them, I saw them, I saw them bite into my father’s neck.” Her sobs were fierce, her body convulsing just as he had found her earlier.

  Apollo knew. At that moment, he knew. The Sanguis took her family—the Sanguis took them to the blood bank to keep as food. He knew he could not tell her; instead, he would let her cry into his chest until she had no more tears—until she had dispelled enough sorrow.

  She cried, rocking back and forth in Apollo’s arms. He pressed his warm lips to her forehead several times while he held her close. He needed her as much as she needed him. Together, they were going to get out of the forest, away from the horror of the entire night.

  If he could fix any of this, he would go back and get Sophie’s family. While he was there, he would drag Amaya with him. But, he couldn’t. He refused to accept the future his father had chosen for him.

  Out of nowhere, two bright lights caught his attention. He was not sure what they were, but through the trees, he could see the lights approaching.

  “Sophie, Sophie,” he anxiously tried to get her attention.

  She glanced up at him and then in the direction of his gaze. “A car, it’s a car, Apollo,” she jumped up and started running toward the two-lane highway that was now visible.

  Apollo jumped up and ran after her. He had no idea what a car was, but her desperation to make contact with it was obviously something worth reaching for.

  Together, at top speed, they ran toward their freedom, toward their salvation. The wind was blowing through their hair, their lean bodies jumping and dodging faster than they ever had. They ran with purpose—with determination.

  As they approached the highway, Sophie slid to a halt and fell on her behind. Apollo watched her fall and crawl backward on her hands and feet in one sudden motion. He looked up and into the eyes of Ori and Tereq. He instinctively grabbed Sophie, pulled her up, and swung her behind him.

  Ori was in human form. Tereq’s face was in between human and vampire. His eyes were black, his eyebrow ridge extended and straight across his forehead, but he had not released his fangs.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Polly?” Tereq demanded.

  “Please, please you guys, let us go.”

  “You know we can’t do that, Apollo. Vasco would kill us if we were to let you go,” Ori explained.

  “Ori, please, don’t do this.” Apollo had one hand up, trying to keep them at a distance. He wrapped his other hand with the bow and arrow around Sophie’s arm, while she hid behind him with her head buried into his back.

  “You were hard to find, Polly. I see we’ve taught you well. But . . .” Tereq slowly circled around them as he talked. “Her dramatic scene of remembering her family was quite a show from the trees.”

  Apollo could feel his blood start to boil, anger coursing through his body. “Tereq, you have a c
hoice, please. You don’t want me around here. Let me take Sophie and leave.”

  Tereq laughed at Apollo’s plea. “Your father already chose your fate,” Tereq said, grinning at the pain and betrayal he knew those words would inflict on Apollo.

  “This is bullshit! Ori, do something, please,” Apollo pleaded with his close friend. “You’re like a brother to me. Don’t let him turn me. Didn’t you have a life before you became a vampire?”

  Ori glanced at both Tereq and Apollo. “Your sister needs you right now; at least, go back for her. Be there for her.”

  Apollo knew there was some logic to Ori’s words. The void of his sister tormented him. But, he knew there was nothing he could do to convince Amaya. He looked to the sides for an escape. But the reality was, he could not convince himself that he had the possibility to escape his grim situation. The only thing his defeated spirit was compelled to do was negotiate.

  “If you let Sophie go, I’ll go back with you.”

  Tereq laughed, “That’s not for us to decide, you idiot.”

  “Apollo!” Sophie screamed as he felt her yanked from his side. Vasco had his grip around her arms, his thick teeth extended with his hand under her chin, extending her neck for full visibility.

  “No, Vasco! Don’t touch her, don’t hurt her, please,” Apollo pleaded. He lifted his bow, quickly lined up the arrow and released it toward Vasco’s head.

  Vasco’s hand grabbed the arrow inches from his eye and then threw it to the ground. “I don’t make deals, Boy.” Without hesitation, Vasco opened his mouth and sank his teeth into the side of Sophie’s neck.

  She screamed in pain. Within seconds, her scream turned to a whimper and her eyes began to roll back into her head. Apollo charged at Vasco and attempted to knock him off her. Vasco’s left hand swung at Apollo, hitting him on the chest. Apollo flew into a tree off to the side. He lay on the ground, unconscious.

  Vasco pulled his teeth from Sophie’s neck and threw her to the ground like a rag doll. He’d always found pleasure in human anguish. He found Apollo’s pain especially sweet. It was a small payback for all the years of rules that imposed upon them from their arrival.

  Vasco turned his attention to Ori and Tereq. “Why were you wasting your time listening to this useless boy? The next time Maximiliano gives you an order, you had better obey him, or I will personally feed you to the Sombras. Quickly, grab them both and bring them to the caves as our King commanded. Their fate has yet to be determined.”

  -10-

  Apollo was not fully coherent when he reached his hand up to massage the pain in his neck. As his vision began to return, he saw a large rodent sniffing at his face.

  “Get away from me.” He swung his hand at the animal and watched it run off. Where am I?

  He pushed himself up onto his knees and brushed at the gravel that clung to his face and side from the ground where he was lying. He gripped the back of his neck while he tried to assess his location. He was not sure where he was, but he recognized the rancid, humid smell of the cave. The foul, thick air and rotted flesh made his stomach queasy. The small room he was in had three walls and one iron prison-like door with a huge padlock.

  The only source of light in his room came from three pillar candles that sat on a makeshift wall-shelf just outside his cell.

  He pushed himself up onto his feet. His shoulders and neck were sore from Vasco thwarting his attempt to save Sophie by throwing him against a tree. Apollo winced at the pain that shot from his shoulder down his arm. He shuffled his feet through the pebbles toward the bolted, thick iron door that sealed the diamond-shaped space where they left him.

  His hands grasped the rusty bars, and he pushed and pulled to pry it open. It would not budge. Apollo tilted his head to see down the long hallway. His prison cell was at the end of a long tunnel. There was nothing but solid rock to his left, the pillar of candles on the wall four feet in front of him and the only tunnel passage to his right.

  “Father!” he yelled. When his voice echoed off the walls, he cringed.

  Once the echo of his voice stopped, the only sound left was his heavy breathing and the eeriness of the silence around him.

  “Father, get me out of here. Father?!” he yelled again. The silence was eerie.

  “Apollo, your father’s laboratory is too far from here. He won’t hear your distress call.”

  Apollo was instantly quiet. He looked around startled because he thought he was alone, but the stranger sounded as if he were in a room next to his. Apollo did not recognize the stranger’s deep, raspy voice. “Who are you? How do you know my father?” Apollo was anxious for answers.

  “I’m a prisoner like you. I’m here to tell you—”

  “Are you a vampire?” Apollo’s mistrust interrupted the voice.

  An uncomfortable silence lingered while Apollo waited for him to respond. “Why are you in here?” he impatiently asked again.

  “I don’t have much time,” the voice said. “Your father has been misled.”

  “What do you mean, ‘misled’?” Apollo’s voice rose with anticipation of what this stranger had to say.

  “The night your family was attacked, I was there.”

  “You were there?” Apollo questioned.

  The mysterious voice in the other cell did not respond. The silence infuriated Apollo.

  ”Hey, I’m talking to you, what did you mean you were there?” Apollo grew angrier at each passing second that the silence lingered. After a minute of dead silence, he burst into his angriest, loudest cry.

  “ANSWER ME, YOU COWARD!” Apollo grabbed hold of the bars again and yanked on them. “Anyone, Father, Ori, anyone, get me out of here!” Saliva shot from his mouth with fury. “Get me the fuck out of here!” He shook and kicked the door in desperation.

  Apollo looked around his cell for something to throw, but it was empty. He paced back and forth like a caged animal. No one responded to his plea. The only sound that remained was his fierce panting and his aggressive pacing.

  In his final attempt to get the stranger to respond to him, he yelled in desperation. “WHO ARE YOU? WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME? Someone let me out of here. Father, Father, FATHER!”

  “I ended my priesthood years ago,” Tereq said as he stepped in front of the bars with his arms tight across his chest.

  Apollo jumped away from the gate with Tereq’s instant appearance. “Tereq, get me out of here, please.”

  Tereq grinned. He enjoyed basking in Apollo’s desperation. He opened the door and signaled him to come out of the caged cell. “It’s time for you to follow me.”

  Apollo was hesitant to move. “Where are you taking me? Where’s—”

  In a blink of an eye, Apollo went from being inside the cell to standing in front of it. Apollo rubbed his already sore neck from the whiplash of Tereq’s unexpected pull.

  “I said, follow me, boy,” Tereq growled.

  When Apollo passed the cell next to his, he glanced inside to catch a glimpse of the man he had spoken with a few minutes earlier. There was someone in the cell, but he was cowering in the shadows and just the whites of his eyes were visible. Apollo quickly looked away.

  Although he had no idea where Tereq was taking him, he followed close to Tereq’s side. “Where’s my father? Where’s Sophie?”

  Tereq walked a few steps ahead of Apollo. He ignored Apollo’s desperate questions. Instead, he allowed himself to enjoy Apollo’s torment. Finally, in his deep, unemotional voice he said, “Sophie? Are you referring to that human girl you brought us?” When Tereq laughed, it was more of a sadistic growl.

  Apollo felt the adrenaline race through his blood. His breathing was growing deeper with each thought that they may have hurt her. Emphasizing each word, Apollo’s voice was low and distinct. “God damn creatures better not have touched her.”

  Tereq’s body tensed. He whipped around on Apollo and released his vampiric features.

  Apollo stopped and swallowed against the instant fear that rose in his
throat.

  Tereq took a step toward Apollo and backed him up against the wall. “God damn creatures? Is that what you just said?”

  Apollo lifted his head in defiance, making a stand not to back up any further.

  “What do you know about God and his creatures? We are all creations of God. And, according to God, we have all been created in his image. Didn’t Ms. Beasley teach you anything?” Tereq snapped his teeth together close to Apollo’s face.

  Apollo stood silent unsure of Tereq’s intentions. “I just meant that you better not have touched her.” He felt chills run down his spine. Tereq’s sadistic, deformed features were horrific enough to feel the fear crawl under his skin.

  “And if we have, do you plan on asking God for his help?” Tereq glared at the human.

  “I didn’t say that,” Apollo quickly retorted.

  Tereq could hear Apollo’s rapidly beating heart. He could smell his fear. The essence of Apollo’s fear was what Tereq loved most about being a vampire. He glared at Apollo before he turned and continued their walk, a little slower now.

  “After many faithful years in the monastery, I’ve come to learn a few facts: The first is that God is a vampire.”

  “Tereq, I—”

  “History has taught us that God has always demanded blood through sacrifices. God has had a vampiric fascination with blood since the beginning.”

  Apollo tried to ignore Tereq’s blasphemous words by noticing his surroundings. He could not help but notice the eighteenth-century artifacts and Spanish tapestries on the walls. The farther they traveled through the intricate system of tunnels, the farther they descended through what appeared to be neverending paths.

  “Where’s my father?”

  “Hush, I’m teaching you something. Fast forward two thousand years, God demanded the blood of his own son. I would say that such an act is vampiric. God basks in the torment of his people. He has more bloodshed on his hands than any vampire ever has.”

  Tereq stopped abruptly and faced Apollo. “The truth is, vampires are neither accidents nor freaks of nature. God created us in his image. We are truly god-like in our quest for blood.” Tereq retracted his vampiric features and continued walking in silence.

  Apollo was relieved when they had reached their destination. They stopped in front of a large iron door with a crest that Apollo attempted to read: Nunquam Dormio.

  Tereq threw open the steel door, and Apollo braced himself against the cold air that engulfed him. They walked in silence down a winding stairwell until they reached a door at the bottom of the stairs.

  Tereq knocked on the steel door. Before he turned to leave, he had leaned forward and whispered in Apollo’s ear, “Welcome to my world.”

  Tereq began his way back up the staircase as the door creaked open. Apollo stepped inside the room. He looked up at the marble pillars and stared in amazement of its beauty. It was not until he looked down to appreciate the floors that he noticed his father and sister stood before a throne in the center of the lair. When Apollo realized the importance of the regal presence sitting on the throne, he walked toward his father and stood by his side.

  Apollo soaked in the layers of dark evil that surrounded him. He quivered at the thought of the weakness in which he stood before their beastly leader. He held his breath, watched every movement Maximiliano made, and kept his senses alert.

  Apollo jumped when he felt a warm hand slide into his. Amaya had moved next to him. She wanted to comfort him. She respectfully kept her eyes focused on their leader. He glanced down at their fingers intertwined and directed his attention back to Maximiliano.

  “You are here to be sentenced.” Maximiliano was an impatient leader of few words. His deep voice seemed to vibrate from all directions.

  “I did nothing but try to leave.”

  Maximiliano slammed his fist on his hand-carved throne, shaking the floor beneath their feet. “Do not interrupt me.” In the blink of an eye, Max was standing within inches of Apollo.

  Apollo could smell his rancid breath; his withered body reeked. Apollo lifted his chin to look up at Max, ready for his sentencing. He felt Amaya grip his hand tightly.

  “Your actions will affect those you love. Therefore, you both will spend the next two days cleaning the Sombra pit.”

  Amaya’s face turned stark white. “What? Why am I being sentenced when I did nothing wrong? Father, tell him?”

  Nicholas hand-signaled Amaya to be silent and cease her protest, but it was too late.

  Maximiliano raised his hand and with a telekinetic elder ability, stopped Amaya from breathing. She felt a squeezing sensation around her throat. Her face turned blue, and her eyes bulged. Amaya held her throat and gasped for air with her mouth wide open.

  Maximiliano only held his mental grip on her long enough to make his point. When he released her, she coughed and gasped for air as she reached for her father. Maximiliano continued his cold verdict, “As I was saying, you will both clean up the Sombras’ pit until the turning ceremony. Then we can be done with these trivialities.”

  Apollo’s heart sank to see his sister weeping. He was not sure what a Sombra was, but he already sensed what the punishment entailed. His mind went to the glimpses of the putrid blood bank and the creatures that wallowed in human carcasses.

  Apollo looked at the horror on his sister’s face. He had run, and she had stayed, yet she would serve his punishment right by his side. How could he fight for his own rights when everything he did would affect his sister and his father?

  “I’m sorry, Amaya,” Apollo muttered.

  Amaya frowned at Apollo with hurt, desperate eyes. Then she fell to her knees and continued to weep into her hands.

  -11-

  No human had ever spent time in the pit unless they were thrown there for the Sombras to eat. It was clear to Apollo and Amaya that the pit was nothing more than the bowels of the cave—a sewage dump for the carcasses from the blood bank. To the Sombra, the carcasses meant a barbaric feast of limbs and body parts flying throughout the room.

  Today, however, Vasco escorted Amaya and Apollo into the cavity of the Sombras’ pit to start their two-day sentencing. Two days of janitorial work in the Sombras’ feeding hollow.

  Did Maximiliano care whether the pit was clean? No. He wanted to desensitize the twins before their ceremony. The less they cared about being human, the more they embraced being vampires.

  However, it was Amaya’s wrenching sobs that echoed through the cave. Those echoes reminded Apollo of a dying animal. Her high-pitched noises traveled through his senses like fingernails that dragged across a chalkboard. He wished he could get her out of the pit. Oh, not because he felt guilt or empathy, but because there was nothing he could do and yet his sister continued to cry.

  “Stop crying, please . . . I can’t think when you’re crying.” Apollo pressed the palms of his hands over his ears.

  “Oh my God, Apollo, what is that right there?” Amaya pointed to a pile of bloody slop bubbling on the ground. “I want out of here, please get us out of here!” she screamed hysterically, leaning over and throwing up acids from her empty stomach.

  Apollo turned away. If he watched his sister vomit, he would dry-heave the lining of his stomach. The smell of the room was unbearable. The reek of a pit full of uneaten, rotted body parts was so potent that even blocking their sinuses from the smell turned the odor into a thick taste in their mouth.

  “Why am I here with you?” Amaya ran the back of her hand over her mouth, swiping at the string of saliva mixed with stomach acid that ran down her chin. “I don’t belong here.”

  “Neither of us belongs here,” Apollo yelled.

  “Yeah, but you’re the one who ran. You’re the one who wouldn’t accept your fate.”

  “And you’re telling me that you’re looking forward to this?” Apollo threw his arms out to either side, displaying the disgusting mess that the Sombras had made.

  “No, Apollo. I’m not looking forward to this.” Amaya mocked
him and then rubbed the tears from her eyes. “I want my bedroom, my bed, food, and I want out of this, this . . . whatever this is.”

  “Yeah, well, I want my life. Damn it, Amaya, I want my fucking life back.”

  It was a surreal scene. They stood alone in an octagon room that was roughly carved from the existing rock. There were no embellishments. The walls that imprisoned them were twenty feet high with an open ceiling to a path above so vampires could view the scene below. The sides of the pit resembled a high-powered blender with the remains of victims stuck to the rigid walls.

  The architect who had designed the room had thought out every detail. With rough, beveled walls, halfway up, a victim who was still alive may think he could escape his fate until he realized the surface from midpoint to the top was glassy smooth.

  Apollo walked toward the other side of the pit and grabbed the push broom that was propped against the wall. He refused to look at his sister. Instead, he pushed the broom across the slippery floor. He closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth.

  He loathed being at odds with her. After a few moments, he glanced at her. Amaya’s long brown hair was matted from sweat and tears. She wore a t-shirt and a pair of light blue jeans that hugged her slim curves. She had on a pair of black boots that extended over her jean pants and stopped just below her knees. They had thick, heavy soles and zipped up the sides.

  Apollo watched her sob in the corner near the only door that led in and out of the pit. He let out a heavy sigh, full of despondent guilt, frustration, and hopelessness. He held the tears back that welled up in his eyes.