What Kills Me

  Be brave.

  Chapter 34

  It took several soldiers to wrestle me into a metal coffin. I heard their scramble to lock it, and I shouted obscenities at them from inside. I blinked furiously against the black, expecting my eyes to adjust, expecting to see something. Inside my narrow prison I thrashed away, pounding my fists, banging my knees, and trying to kick out the bottom. I don’t know how long I struggled or how long I screamed. At one point, I thought I couldn’t breathe, which made me panic and fight harder.

  Then I stopped. I stopped when I realized that I didn’t breathe. And when the dull ache subsided in my hands and feet from hitting the metal, I became still. No noise. No light. I felt nothing. This is what it’s like to be dead. I’m dead.

  I imagined the Ancients. Trapped but alive, like this, with nothing but their thoughts—forever. Perhaps this is worse than death. To spend eternity missing life, missing people. Missing Lucas.

  I scratched my scalp. Vampire blood was viscous and sticky on my skin. It smelled bitter. It made me sick. There had been so much blood, so much death in recent days. In the darkness the images of the fallen and the dead were so vivid. The visions terrorized me, and I could not escape them. I could not escape the despair.

  They’re going to kill me. They’re going to hunt Lucas and kill him. What had he said to me? It had all happened so fast. “I’ll come for you. Wait for me.” I couldn’t recall anymore. I couldn’t remember his last words to me. “Be brave.” I remembered that.

  I’m sorry, Lucas. I can’t be strong right now. I can’t do this. I can’t.

  Instead I wept.

  If the Aramatta catch up with him and kill him, will I ever know? Does it even matter, because I’ll be dead too? Is there an after-afterlife for vampires and will we meet there?

  I conjured up our day at the resort, when I had accidentally pushed him into the hot springs. I had knocked on the bathroom door that morning and asked for his clothing before picking up detergent from the front desk. When I returned, I found his clothes folded outside the door, and I had gone and washed the sulfur out of our garments in the women’s change room. The soap was called “Heaven Clean.” I had wanted to tell him about it; I was going to make some joke about being ready to die in fresh laundry. It seemed inappropriate now.

  I wanted more than anything to see him again. To tell him how much he meant to me. To have him hold me. To have him kiss me.

  And now it was too late.

  The coffin suddenly tipped upright so that I was standing. I heard them lift a latch, and a small window opened in front of my face. I peered through the small square pane; the glass was so thick it distorted my view. The lights in the room were bright, like in a convenience store. I could see only glossy black floors and a table with a mirrored surface, on which sat a single silver sculpture. It looked like a tree made of razor blades. On either side of my prison, two rows of soldiers faced each other.

  The Empress crossed the room. She stopped ten feet from the coffin, wearing a double-breasted, knee-length burgundy coat with gunmetal domed buttons. Her gloved fingers were interlocked over her stomach. She glared at me with her ultraviolet eyes, and I pressed my back against the steel.

  “Axelia,” she said. Her voice was muffled through the metal.

  I nodded.

  “Address me as Empress.”

  “Yes, Empress.”

  “Do you know why you are here?”

  Because a prophecy says that I’m the destroyer of your kind.

  “Because you think I am dangerous,” I said.

  “You are dangerous.”

  “I’m not. I don’t mean anyone harm.”

  “But you’ve done so much harm already. So many vampires have died because of you. My soldiers, the swordsmith and his young steward. There was also your Taiwanese accomplice and my exiled child.”

  I noted that she did not mention Lucas.

  “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen,” I said.

  “If you had died with the transporter, Paolo, then no one would have been hurt.”

  She took a few steps toward me. I noticed that her black leather boots rose above her knees. A soldier must have raised some concern because she put her hand out as if to quiet him.

  “Tell me, then,” she said. “How did you escape?”

  “I escaped through the top of the tower.”

  “How did you avoid the sun?”

  “I didn’t.”

  She didn’t move, didn’t speak.

  “The sun…it doesn’t burn me,” I said.

  Her hands broke apart and wavered before she clasped them again, squeezing her fingers. She glanced at someone to the right of my coffin, then back at me.

  “I see,” she said. “What other abilities do you have?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “The general reports that you are already as strong as ten soldiers.”

  “Empress, in all honesty, I don’t have any intentions of hurting anyone. If you’ve been informed otherwise, it must be a mistake.”

  “Our kind has been waiting for your arrival for ages. We knew this day would come. And we are prepared to stop you from doing what you are fated to do.”

  “I’m not…”

  “I heard you, young vampire. You swear that you have no ill intentions. But this has all been foreordained. You don’t know what your future will hold. But we do. Our earliest ancestors said that you would come to destroy us, and we cannot ignore their warnings. They did not describe your abilities, your strength, your immunity to the sun. But now, I do not doubt that if you are allowed to exist you will use these powers and gain other powers to fulfill your destiny.”

  I slammed my fist against the glass, shaking the box. The soldiers grabbed the handles of their weapons. “This is not my destiny!” I shouted. “People make their own destinies.”

  “You’re not a person, Axelia.”

  I splayed my fingers across the glass and hung my head. Then, as tears of frustration sprang to my eyes, I banged my forehead against the pane. “I know. But I’m not what you say I am.”

  When I looked up, the ethereal queen’s face was in the window and I gasped. Up close she looked like a mannequin. Her skin was white and waxen, like the surface of a boiled egg. Her pupils shrank as she pierced me with her eyes.

  “Do you have a family, Axelia?” she asked in a softer voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Would you protect them at all costs?”

  “Yes.”

  “As Empress, it is the sole purpose of my existence. To protect the Monarchy. To protect the empire and our children. Do you understand?”

  I nodded.

  “Right now I need to protect them from you,” she said. “It has already been decided. I, the court, and the council of clerics will witness your death in an hour.”

  She began to walk away.

  “Empress!”

  She turned to show me her profile but she did not look at me.

  “What if there’s a chance that I won’t do the things you say?” I cried.

  “That is a chance I cannot take.”

  ***

  The ballroom was as I had remembered, majestic in ivory, gold, and jade. But this time it was filled with more soldiers than clerics and members of the court. Those not dressed in combat gear were wearing suits. They assembled on elevated platforms along the walls of the room. Others were dressed in blue robes, as Uther had been, and they stood in three rows, like a choir, below the Empress’s balcony.

  They had removed me from the coffin and I knelt on the cold floor, my wrists cuffed and the chains held by four soldiers flanking me, as if I stood in the middle of their tug-of-war. Other soldiers stood behind me, the points of their swords aimed at the nape of my neck. Slumped over, I hid from everyone’s prying eyes behind my matted hair. I looked at my trembling hands; they were stained with reddish-brown blood, likely from the battle at the temple.

  I’m a monster to them. And they’ve come
to see the monster die.

  The voices subsided and when I raised my head, the Empress was on her balcony. She had changed into a leather turtleneck dress; its shiny vinyl sleeves appeared to be separate from the dress, revealing her white shoulders.

  The general strode into the middle of the room, wearing a boxy black military jacket and pants. His epaulettes bore the Monarchy’s gold emblem, and the sword at his hip was encased in a silver bejeweled sheath.

  “Children of the Monarchy,” the Empress said. “Tonight, we may stand down and glory in our triumph. The reign of terror brought upon us by the demon vampire is over.”

  Reign of terror?

  “Our esteemed general has succeeded in capturing she who kneels before you defeated and humbled. We will now all bear witness to this extraordinary moment in history when we end her existence, preserving ours for all eternity.”

  She paused to allow murmurs of approval and continued: “The Ancients predicted the demon vampire’s terror, but they could not predict our power in the new millennium. The Monarchy is at its strongest. We are unbreakable. Throughout the ages our empire has faced many threats. But we have always prevailed and we will always prevail.”

  The crowd clamored in response. A broad smile spread across the general’s face. He turned his steely gray eyes to the Empress and she returned his gaze. Without a word she sat down on a high-backed, ornate wooden chair and curled her fingers over the armrest. She appeared rigid and anxious. Hungry for my death.

  With a satisfied smirk the general approached me. His rubber-soled boots squeaked with every step until he stood in front of me. The soldiers rewound the chains around their hands to pull them taut. The general made a grand gesture of reaching for his sword, gripping the handle one finger at a time, and retracted it from the scabbard. I saw my anguished expression reflected in his blade, but it didn’t register as me. I felt numb. I felt outside of my body.

  This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. I can’t die like this. In front of all these vampires by his savage hand. Not without seeing my family again. Not without seeing Lucas again.

  The general raised the sword. I didn’t blink, afraid that I would miss the final blow.

  Please. Not. Like. This.

  Suddenly, screams and banging erupted outside the ballroom. Vampires started murmuring and the general looked at the double doors. They burst open. The crowd gasped. From the corner of my eye I saw the Empress rise, knocking her chair backward.

  Lucas.

  Chapter 35

  For a moment, chaos erupted. Everyone was yelling. Soldiers swarmed around me. Still kneeling on the ground, I could only see legs. I heard the clash of weapons and the disgusting squelching sound of separating flesh.

  “Order!” The Empress’s voice boomed. “Order! Fall back!”

  The soldiers withdrew to the edges of the hall, leaving me, my four captors, the general, and Lucas in the middle of the ballroom.

  “Lucas!” I shouted.

  I moved to run to him but the general pointed his blade between my eyes.

  “Stay where you are or I will split the demon’s skull,” the general said.

  “Zee, are you all right?” Lucas asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m so freaking happy to see you.”

  “General, is this the swordsmith?” The Empress asked.

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “I thought you were to have disposed of him,” she said.

  “I sent a battalion after him.”

  “Yes, about that,” Lucas said. “They’re all dead.”

  The crowd murmured.

  “Swordsmith,” she said. “This is foolhardy. What do you hope to accomplish by storming into my court?”

  “I’m here for Zee,” he answered.

  “You’re here for the vampire demon?” She sounded baffled.

  “Her name is Axelia.”

  “Why?” The Empress asked.

  Yes, why?

  “Because, Your Highness,” he said, “she is mine.”

  I smiled. I am yours.

  The Empress shook her head. “No, Swordsmith. She belongs to no one. She has no sire. She is the harbinger of doom. Do you not understand that? If she lives, she will kill everyone. She will kill you.”

  “With all due respect, your Highness, I have a difference of opinion,” he said.

  “This is heresy!” the general roared.

  “And you are willing to die for your beliefs?” the Empress asked.

  “Yes,” Lucas said.

  She showed us the length of her throat and stared down her nose. “Then it shall be so.”

  “Your Highness, I request the honor of fulfilling your wishes,” the general said.

  She gave him a nod. The general threw his scabbard across the floor. Lucas twirled his swords in his hands and glared at his opponent.

  “Please be careful,” I whispered.

  “Do you know who made this weapon, Swordsmith?” the general asked. “Your father. How fitting that I will now use it to reunite the two of you.”

  Lucas moved in, his head lowered, his shoulders hunched. They circled each other, a bear against a wolf.

  The general went on: “You should be pleased. You will also be joining your sisters. I still remember their cherubic faces and their little voices. They cried for your father when we burned them alive.”

  Lucas attacked. The general warded off the torrent of hits, meeting each strike with a sneer, his sword unyielding, like a steel rod rooted to the ground. Then the general thrust his sword at him and Lucas flipped forward, landing on the blunt edge of the general’s blade. Pushing away the general’s weapon, Lucas tried to cut off his head. But the general was ready. He ducked and used his shoulder to knock Lucas back.

  “I know all of your moves, Swordsmith. They are exactly like your obaia’s.”

  The general swung at him and Lucas clamped the thick blade between his two swords. Then he head-butted the general in the nose. I heard it crack. As the general stumbled back, Lucas swiped him across the face.

  Yes!

  The general shook his head. A line of blood leaked from his left nostril, and his chin bore a two-inch nick. He dabbed at his face with the back of his hand.

  “That one I learned from my father,” Lucas hissed.

  Snarling, the general rushed him. They collided, their swords producing a flurry of sparks. With every hit I grew tenser until I was paralyzed. A black hole in my gut was pulling me inside out. Though the general was stronger, Lucas was fast and unpredictable. They both launched themselves into the air and clashed ten feet off the ground. The general landed on his feet but Lucas crashed down on his back, causing a web of cracks to appear in the marble beneath him.

  Lucas!

  My gasp attracted the general’s attention. As Lucas climbed to his feet, the general reached for a strap around his thigh; he took out a silver stake, and with a spin he whipped it at me.

  But I saw it coming. My eyes followed it—like the time Nuwa aimed that rock at my head—and I snatched it out of the air, jerking the soldiers holding my chains. So predictable, General. I squeezed the metal stake and glanced at Lucas. He looked at me with relief.

  Then I saw the blur coming at him. There wasn’t time to scream. Suddenly the general plunged his sword through Lucas’s chest. The force took him off his feet; his body curled over the blade and his swords fell from his hands. Lucas turned his head to look at me. Our eyes met. His lips moved but no sound came out.

  “LUCAS!”

  Chapter 36

  Something in me snapped. Broke. Exploded.

  I threw the stake back at the general. He must have heard it because he jerked his head. Too late. It skewered his right eye. He cried out and the crowd gasped.

  I yanked on my chains, pulling the four soldiers to me. They were in mid air when I grabbed a sword from one of their belts and flung it at the general. They collided behind me, cracking their skulls and crumpling into a groaning heap. br />
  Tearing his sword free of Lucas just in time, the general batted away the oncoming weapon. The stray sword flew over the crowd and pierced a column next to the Empress. The general tore the stake from his face, pink goo squirting out.

  Lucas staggered two steps toward me and then collapsed. I ran, dropped beside him, and pressed one hand to his wound. Choking, he tried to speak.

  “Shh,” I said. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

  I cradled his face. Blood sputtered out of his mouth and I wiped his lips with my thumb. I saw my panicked reflection in his filmy eyes. “I’m here,” I whispered.

  I heard the squeak of boots. Enraged, I reached over Lucas’s body and grabbed one of his swords. I stood up to face the general, curling my lips to bare my fangs. My body burned and shook. I stepped over Lucas, pointing the sword at my enemy.

  “What are you going to do, demon?” The general sneered. His face was red and his right eye was a black pit. The top two buttons of his jacket had come undone.

  “You’re going to be sorry,” I said through my teeth. “I’m going to make you sorry.”

  “Come on then!” he screamed.

  I rushed him, slashing at him with the sword. The chains affixed to my hands whipped around as I moved. The impact of our blades vibrated down the shaft of my sword to the hilt, jolting my hands like an electric shock. The general grunted, his hideous face contorting and his scar twisting, as we clashed again and again and I tried to hack at his neck. When he countered, my strike pushed him back. He fought to maintain his balance and a flash of fear appeared in his eye as it darted from me to the Empress.

  I’m stronger than you. Faster than you. The thought filled me with energy. He was twice my size but I was more powerful. It made him clumsy. Made him vulnerable.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” I yelled.

  He charged me. Our swords clanked above our heads. As I pressed into him, his arms wavered, his sword bending back toward his forehead. Suddenly he spun out from under me and I fell forward. From the corner of my eye I saw him turn to try to wound me from behind. Twisting in mid air, I blocked his blade with mine. My back hit the floor and I was pinned beneath our swords. Screaming, I lashed out at his leg with my heel. I felt his knee cap detach and heard his tissues tear. His leg buckled and he hopped back from me.