What Kills Me

  “We have to go now,” Lucas said.

  I ran to Kinman and threw my arms around him. He hugged me, crushing me, lifting me off the ground.

  “Thank you for your help,” I said into his ear.

  “Safe travels, Zee,” he said. “Stay alive.”

  I climbed into the car and Kinman shut the door. He reached through the open window and handed Lucas a map.

  “Kinman. I am in your debt,” he said.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll meet again. Be safe. Oh, I almost forgot.”

  Kinman turned and grabbed something that he had propped against the gate. He put it through the window and into my lap. It was a short sword in a gleaming ivory sheath.

  “For the lady,” he said with a grin.

  I touched the pearl inlays that decorated the handle, tracing the intricate floral patterns. Two butterflies flew among the flowers.

  “Thank you,” I said, forcing a smile.

  “Don’t be upset,” he said. He rubbed the top of my head. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  Lucas put the car in gear. “Thanks again,” he said.

  “Hurry. You need to get out of here,” Kinman said. “Follow my directions. Call me if you run into any problems.” He stood and patted the roof of the car twice. As we drove away, I looked into the side mirror to see Kinman, but he was already gone.

  We drove in silence. Lucas leaned forward, scanning all the street signs and double-checking his rearview mirror. I lay my sword on the floor against my knees and sat back.

  I should not have gone down that alley. But I needed to help that girl. I should have been more in control of my emotions. Then I wouldn’t have been so violent.

  When we pulled onto a highway, Lucas asked: “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing,” I mumbled.

  He shifted in his seat and studied my face. I could see him in my periphery, his eyebrows pinched, his lips tight.

  I remembered Lettie’s warning: “Their impulses could manifest themselves in you…They were vicious. They were pure evil.”

  I had been vicious. I had been evil. And then cowardly. I had left the men there. In broken piles. They had deserved punishment—but not the kind of pain I had inflicted. They could be dead for all I knew. I could have killed them. I could have killed that girl. I was what the prophecy had warned. Dangerous. Unpredictable.

  In my mind I heard bones crunching. The girl’s wail. The strained breaths of the wounded. I saw the leader’s horrified expression. The blood on the girl’s neck. The desperation that I felt to taste her blood. The images haunted me, tortured me, shamed me. What had happened in a blur was so crisp now in my memory. It was cruel.

  “I should have listened to you,” I said. “I should not have gone out.”

  “It’s my fault,” he said.

  I looked at him. “Seriously? Don’t…” I started.

  “It’s my fault,” he repeated. “I should never have left you alone. You’re my responsibility.”

  “No, Lucas, I’m not…”

  “Yes, you are my responsibility. If you had a sire, he would be the one taking care of you and teaching you. So, in the absence of a sire, I’m it.”

  “I’m sorry that I’ve been a burden.”

  “You’re not a burden.”

  “I did a terrible thing,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “I hurt those guys in that alley. I really hurt them.”

  “You didn’t mean to.”

  “But I did.”

  He didn’t respond. My guilt was excavating my heart.

  “I wanted to hurt them,” I said. “I wanted them to suffer. What does that say about me?”

  “It says that you got angry. It says that you fought for something. You were trying to protect the human.”

  I shook my head. “I might have killed them. I don’t even know because I ran away.”

  “Listen,” he said. “You’re still young. You’re still getting used to your abilities. You don’t have any sense of what you’re capable of. When I first became a vampire, Nuwa was constantly testing our powers and our strength. That doesn’t stop. The older we get, the more powerful we become. I still test myself. I tested Jerome every night. I should be testing you. I should be teaching you how to be a vampire.”

  Jerome.

  “Since I became this, only bad things have happened,” I said. “Everyone who I come in contact with is in danger. I used to be…good.”

  “Zee,” he said. “These horrible things that have happened, they do not define you. You are still good.”

  For a moment we were silent. He looked so troubled by our conversation, by my misery. I was making him suffer with me.

  “Hey,” I said, fighting to lighten my tone.

  “Hmm.”

  “I think that was the first time that you’ve ever called me by my name.”

  “What? No.”

  “Yes,” I said. “See? You do like me.”

  He clucked his tongue and shook his head, but he had a faint smile on his face. It loosened the grip of grief. Feeling bold, I reached over to the gearshift in between us and rested my hand over his. He stiffened. I gave his hand a squeeze.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  He nodded once. If I had blinked I would have missed it. I was about to move my hand when he closed his fingers around mine. He didn’t look at me. I watched him watch the road. He now wore a slight frown but he looked peaceful.

  My hand was the only part of me that was not hurting. It made me forget that we were running. It made me forget my fear and my remorse. The only thing that I wanted to be real was the pressure of his fingers gripping mine. And I thought if he could enfold me in his arms, if he could bury me in an embrace, then I could escape from this chaos, this pain.

  He finally glanced over at me. The left corner of his lip curled and he winked. I smiled. I loved that. It filled the emptiness inside of me. It was a flash of light in the darkness. I felt grateful for his presence, his friendship. I thought of how he had encouraged me during our sword tutorial. How earnestly he had explained the correct stance and how pleased he’d looked when I countered his attack. I thought of how he called me “schoolgirl” and “killer” and how he’d called me by my name.

  He released my hand to turn the wheel, crossing two lanes of traffic, and my hand felt naked. He shifted in his seat, making the leather squeak. His brow wrinkled, his eyes narrowed.

  I had clung to his fingers like a starving leech and it creeped him out. My hurt was followed by the realization that I might have feelings for Lucas.

  No, wait. You’re confused because you’ve gone through craziness together. You feel gratitude because he’s always saving your life, and you feel dependency because he’s your only ally. And most of the time, he’s sort of mean to you. But he’s not. He’s great to you. He takes care of you. He reminds you that you’re good. Oh geez. He’s going to feel weird around you if he thinks that you like him. Say something.

  “So, if you’re my substitute sire, does that mean you’re like my dad?” I said, staring into my lap.

  Oh my God. Of all the things you could say.

  When he didn’t respond, I looked at him. His eyes darted to the rearview mirror.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I think we’re being followed.”

  Chapter 27

  I twisted in my seat to look behind us. “Where?”

  “A black sedan,” he said. “Three cars behind. Every time I change lanes, it shadows us.”

  “Are you sure?” I inspected each of the vehicles behind us.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see who’s driving?”

  “I can’t get a good look at them.”

  “Well, step on it. Let’s get out of here.”

  “I’m not speeding.”

  “Why not?”

  “There are other cars on the road and I don’t want to get into an accident.”

  “Seriously?”

/>   “Why do you always say that word? Of course I’m being serious.”

  “We’re being hunted and you’re driving below the speed limit.”

  “We have to stay calm. We can’t draw attention to ourselves.”

  “We’re being followed. It’s kind of too late for that.”

  He huffed. I twisted to the left, leaned over him, and reached around his body.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, alarmed.

  “I’m hugging you goodbye,” I said. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m putting your seatbelt on.”

  I pulled the belt across his chest and wrestled it into the buckle. Then I sat back and fastened mine.

  “Seat belts save lives,” I said, annoyed.

  Lucas surveyed the highway and glanced in the mirror, then made an abrupt right down an off-ramp. I pressed my hand against the window to steady myself around the turn. In the side mirror, I saw a black car follow us down the ramp.

  “Oh no,” I whispered.

  The car’s windows were tinted but I could make out two figures in the front seat. We sped down an empty, darkened stretch of road. I heard their engine rev as they pushed forward in pursuit. In the side mirror their headlights rushed at us.

  “Go faster!” I blurted.

  They rammed us, smashing our bumper. The shock of it made my teeth crack against each other. Our car pitched forward but my seatbelt held my body down. I screamed, drowning out Lucas’s cursing. He wrestled with the wheel, trying to keep the car straight. I heard them accelerate to hit us again and I braced myself. When the strike did not come, I searched the side mirror for their lights. The road behind us was empty.

  “Where…” I started.

  I turned to Lucas and saw the black car pull up beside his window. The faceless figures inside looked at us. Their car moved away and then veered back.

  “Watch out!” I cried.

  Lucas jerked the wheel toward them and the vehicles crashed into each other, metal scraping metal. We were stuck together for a few seconds before separating and bashing again. As our vehicles played bumper cars along the road, I gripped my seat.

  Then Lucas pressed the gas pedal and our car jolted forward, edging in front of the black car again. His side mirror, which dangled by a cord, banged against his door. He gritted his teeth and grimaced, his fangs pressing into his lower lip. The road curved around a rock face and we could hear the rumble of approaching traffic. As we screeched around the corner, the black sedan rear-ended us again, propelling us into the other lane. The lights of an oncoming truck blinded us. It blared its horn and I gasped. Lucas swerved but it was too late.

  The truck clipped the back of our car on the left-hand side and we were spinning. Everything was a blur. There was darkness, headlights and then darkness again. And then came an explosion. Glass burst inward and a blizzard of shards filled the car. The thunderous crunch of metal rattled my brain, and I saw Lucas’s head snap toward his window. The car skidded sideways, skating across the pavement before stopping.

  My ears were ringing. The windshield hadn’t shattered, but, its surface had crackled into an intricate, aquamarine cobweb. Immediately I looked at Lucas. His head was flopped forward. With a trembling hand I touched his shoulder.

  “Lucas?”

  He didn’t stir. Through his broken window, I saw the black sedan about twenty feet away. Its front end was crushed, the hood curled in to reveal its twisted innards.

  I tried to turn to him but my belt trapped me against the seat. I fumbled with the buckle, pebbles of glass falling out of my lap, and yanked the belt away. Leaning over I put my hand on his chest and called his name. I held his chin in my palm and gently lifted his head. A piece of glass jutted out of his hairline and blood streamed over his closed eyes. Cuts on his cheeks opened like fish gills.

  “Lucas!” My voice was shrill. I pulled the shard from his forehead. Almost three inches of it was stained with blood.

  The doors of the sedan opened and two vampires emerged. They were mirror images of each other, clad in black suits without ties, both tall and muscular, with sloping foreheads and protruding jaws, like chimpanzees.

  “Lucas,” I said, shaking him. “Please wake up.”

  I pushed open my door and climbed out. Glass, metal bits, and pieces of plastic littered the road. My legs wobbled. Bracing myself on the hood of the car, I ran to the other side. The driver’s side of the car was crumpled inward; it was as if a giant fist had punched the car into a U shape. The car, under the red paint, was gray.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

  I tugged the door handle but it didn’t move. Lucas had yet to stir. I looked back at the approaching vampires. They were unsmiling, their dark hair slicked back against their scalps.

  Crap.

  I grabbed the handle and the window frame and, with a grunt, I tore the door free. Staggering backward I dropped the door and reached inside. When I ripped Lucas’s seat belt buckle out, he groaned. The cuts on his face had healed and the gaping wound above his forehead was closing, squeezing out a clot of blood.

  “Come on,” I said. When I took his arm to pull him out, he gasped.

  “Everything…is…broken,” he said.

  “Let me help you.”

  I heard a voice yell at us. I glanced over my shoulder and saw a man in jeans and a T-shirt. It was the driver from the truck. He had parked around the bend and had come back to check on us. He jogged toward the vampires, speaking in another language.

  “No!” I hollered. I waved at him. “Run!”

  But one of the vampires grabbed the man’s throat and snapped his neck.

  “No!” I screamed.

  The vampire tossed the man onto the road. Slowly the vampires turned their heads to stare at me with their black, unblinking eyes. Then they started running. Desperate, I searched for a weapon, a distraction, and I picked up the car door. They were closing in on me. With a cry, I launched the door at them. It sailed through the air like a disk. They both leaped to avoid it, but it caught one of them in the midsection.

  The vampire appeared to jump over it, but just his top half flopped over and he fell to the ground in two parts. The door kept flying through the air, and a split second later embedded itself into the side of the black sedan with a crash.

  Both I and the vampire were immobilized by shock. Someone grabbed my wrist, startling me. It was Lucas. He was still sitting in the car but he had seen what happened. “What the…” he started.

  The remaining vampire howled. He drew his sword, his beady eyes on me. Lucas squeezed my hand, wincing.

  He’s coming.

  The white sword on the floor of the car caught my eye. I leaned over Lucas’s legs, grabbed the handle, and whirled around to face the vampire. He was almost upon us. I looked him in the eyes—he was seething, spittle spraying from his mouth—and unsheathed the sword. I moved toward him, putting my body in front of Lucas.

  The vampire spoke to me in another language.

  “Get the hell away from her,” Lucas snarled.

  “You are the one that the Monarchy seeks,” said the vampire.

  “I don’t want to fight you. Please walk away,” I said.

  He spoke through his clenched teeth. “You’ve slain my brother. I don’t care if the Monarchy wants you alive. You’re going to die.”

  “Please don’t do this,” I said.

  “You’re going to pay,” he said, ignoring my pleading.

  I had no choice. I had to protect us.

  With a howl he charged. Steeling myself, I positioned both of my hands on the sword handle. He swiped wildly at my neck, but he wasn’t as fast or as graceful as Lucas or the soldiers. I gasped, swinging my sword, knocking his blade away. He paused, slightly surprised, his blade quivering from the force, before attacking again. I ducked under his blade and batted away his strikes, stumbling back a few steps. My shoulders had crept up to my ears in fear.

  The vampire hissed through his teeth, drawing backward for another c
harge. He rushed at me, his sword high above him, and slashed downward. Raising my sword I turned it sideways to block my head. Our blades clanged together, our elbows touching, our faces inches away. His onyx eyes bulged; his lips were pulled so taut that they curled under, disappearing. He opened his jaws as if to try to bite me and a rasp vibrated in his throat. Suddenly his arms fell, his sword dangling at his side.

  “What…?”

  I looked down between us and saw a blade through his heart. In that instant I felt Lucas behind me and I understood. Relief flooded my body. Lucas’s hand was on my back. He moved me aside. As the vampire began to lift his weapon, Lucas pulled the sword from his body and beheaded him. The head bounced and rolled under the wreckage, and the headless body fell into a sitting position, propped against the car.

  I turned to see Lucas stagger and fall to one knee. His left arm was pressed against his chest.

  “Lucas!” I knelt beside him. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Still healing. I’ll be fine in another minute.”

  After a moment he stood, stretching his neck and maneuvering his arm in its socket, his joints and bones cracking.

  “Thanks for saving my life,” I said. “Again.”

  “Who saved whose life?” he said, nodding at my sword. “You did pretty well.”

  I smiled but because I did not feel happy, smiling made me feel crazy. I slipped my sword back into its sheath. “I can’t believe I had to do that,” I murmured.

  We stood in front of our doorless car. “I can’t believe you did that,” he said, pointing to the door stuck in the sedan.

  “I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

  Shaking his head he looked at me. “How strong are you?”

  I shrugged.

  “Were you hurt?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  He looked at the car. The metal was crumpled and puckered like aluminum foil. “How is it that you don’t have a scratch on you?”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “Maybe I do feel a little bit sore.”

  “That accident destroyed me. I had a skull fracture. My ribs punctured my organs. But you. You were unharmed. You walked out of the car, ripped the door away, and threw it like a Frisbee.”

  He was still shaking his head.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I said.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you did when Lettie told us that story.”