Mother narrows her cold blue eyes at me. “He’s not a person. He’s a soulless half-breed. Why do you care so much about him?”
“I don’t care about him,” I lie. “But he’s innocent. He didn’t kill Chris Thompson.”
“Well, it hardly matters whether he did or not. Sigur Marwick’s made sure of that,” Mother replies, her eyes burning with fury.
The mention of Sigur’s name reminds me of seeing him upstairs with Ash. What was Ash doing with the Darkling ambassador? Why didn’t he tell me they knew each other?
“How dare Sigur just waltz in here making demands? This is my house. If he wants to meet with me, he needs my permission first,” Mother says to no one in particular, on a rant.
“That Dark needs to learn his place,” Sebastian says to Mother. “We should revoke his diplomatic rights and ban him from leaving the Legion.”
Mother laughs bitterly. “Oh, I’d love to do that, but I have to at least pretend Sigur has some authority. Otherwise, the Darklings will stop following his orders. I’m relying on him to keep control over those nippers.”
“Don’t call them that,” I say, anger welling up inside me.
“Since when do you care what I call them?” Mother replies.
“Since when did you start thinking it was okay to torture innocent kids?” I say. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you, Mother?”
“Don’t you talk to me like this, young lady—”
“Or what?”
“I’ll have you punished.”
“For what? Pointing out it’s wrong to hurt people?” I say incredulously. “If that’s suddenly a crime, then go ahead, punish me.”
Mother slaps me across the face. My skin burns where she hit me, but I don’t react. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.
“Sebastian, take my daughter out of here. I have work to do,” she snaps at him. “And make sure she doesn’t leave her room. She’s grounded.”
I open my mouth to protest, but then let it go. Let her ground me—I don’t care. Sebastian takes my arm and leads me back up the metal stairs. I peek over my shoulder at Mother as she talks to Craven.
“Open the door,” she says to him, indicating the cell with the silver marker over it.
“Emissary, are you sure—”
“Just get the operating table prepared,” she snaps.
“But it’s not ready,” he says meekly.
“I don’t care. We’re running out of time,” she replies.
I tug on Sebastian’s sleeve as we reach the platform overlooking the room.
“I want to see,” I whisper, curious to know what’s been hidden in that cell.
I can tell he’s interested too. We lean over the steel barrier to get a better look. The three guards cautiously enter the pitch-black cell. Something roars. There’s a struggle, then a loud wail, and one of the guards rushes out of the room, his face slashed to shreds. I clamp my hands over my mouth to stifle a scream.
Mother steps back as the remaining two guards emerge from the cell holding the struggling creature. They drag it to the operating table in the middle of the room and stand back. I gasp.
It’s a boy. More accurately, it’s a naked boy.
I shouldn’t look, but my eyes are glued to him. He’s the same age as me, short, with a tangled mane of chocolate-brown hair that surrounds his feline features. His skin is the color of honey, with brown spots like a leopard’s down his flank and legs. My eyes widen when a long spotted tail coils around his leg.
The guards pin the cat-boy down, and Craven quickly injects him. He thrashes and snaps at Craven with his saber teeth, his eyes glimmering gold. His movements gradually became sluggish, and his arms fall to his sides; he’s unconscious.
“Do it,” Mother orders.
Craven clamps open the boy’s mouth and jabs a syringe into the soft tissue behind one of his saber teeth. Honey-colored fluid fills the syringe.
“Neat,” Sebastian whispers. “It’s a Bastet. I’ve never seen a live one before.”
Craven extracts the needle and places it on the tray beside him.
“What’s Mother doing with a Bastet?” I whisper to Sebastian.
“They have natural defenses against Darklings, like toxic venom and this terrible-smelling musk that they spray from . . . well, you don’t want to know where.”
“Is that what was in that Go Away Wrath Spray?” I ask, remembering that horrific stench when Craven used it on the Wrath the first time I was down here.
Sebastian nods. “Probably. Come on, let’s go.”
I peer at the Bastet boy one last time. His eyelids flutter, like he’s lost in a terrible nightmare. I wonder if he’s dreaming of us.
* * *
The next day I pace around my bedroom, scheming up ways to get out of the house without being noticed by Sebastian or Mother. I called Ash earlier, letting him know I’d been grounded but that I wanted to see him . . . somehow. I need to make sure he’s okay after last night. I’m also curious about why he left with Sigur Marwick.
There’s a knock at my door, and Sebastian enters before being invited in. He’s holding a letter and grinning from ear to ear.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“I’ve been summoned to Centrum to spend a few days with Purian Rose,” he says breathlessly, showing me the letter.
I scan the note. Sure enough, Sebastian has been invited to a spiritual retreat hosted by Purian Rose.
“Only a dozen other people are going—it’s really exclusive,” he says.
“Congratulations,” I say flatly.
I wonder what Sebastian did that piqued Purian Rose’s interest. It must’ve been something big. I consider talking Sebastian out of going, but the thought of him not breathing down my neck for a few days is too good to pass up.
“Have a good time,” I say.
“I’ve arranged for Kurt and Aaron to guard you while I’m away.”
“Brilliant,” I mumble. Two guards? Argh!
“I’m going to pack.” Sebastian pecks me on the cheek and leaves, humming a happy tune.
At that moment, my heart tugs, and I rush onto the balcony, knowing what it means. Ash is leaning against the balustrade, an enticing smile on his beautiful lips.
“I figured since you couldn’t come to me, I’d come to you,” he says.
I throw my arms around him, and we embrace.
“How on earth did you get onto my balcony without being caught?” I say.
He indicates the flattop roof a few feet above us. “It’s surprisingly easy to get up there if you know how.”
I bite my lip. That’s probably how the other Darkling managed to get into my room without being spotted. There are no guards on the roof.
“The view up there is amazing,” he says. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
He hoists himself onto the roof and pulls me up after him. The motion makes us both fall over, and I land on top of him, giggling. We sit up and survey the burning ruins of the city. It really is amazing. Church bells ring out in a joyous chorus of music, celebrating the anniversary of Armistice Day, while ribbons of black smoke lace the skies. Below us, the streets are filled with families dressed in their finest clothes, all hurrying to get somewhere. Then I start to notice the less pleasant things: Sentry tanks patrolling the streets, barbed-wire blockades, the Boundary Wall.
Up above us, a crow soars through the gray skies, its long black wings cutting through the clouds of smoke and ash that continue to rain down on the city.
“Sometimes I wish I could fly away,” I say.
Ash stands up and takes my hand.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Do you trust me?”
 
; “Yes . . . I trust you,” I say. “What are we doing?”
He grins. “Flying.”
He starts to run, my hand still entwined in his. I have to sprint to keep up with him. The edge of the roof gets closer and closer. I start to panic.
“Ash!”
We’re going to fall off, we’re going to die, we’re going to—
Ash leaps into the air, bringing me along with him. For a brief second, it feels like we’re flying as we jump toward the building on the opposite side of the street. We land with a thud on its roof. I grin at him.
He lets go of my hand and bounds onto the next roof. The distance between the buildings isn’t that far since the city is so crammed together, and it’s surprisingly easy to get around. No wonder Ash managed to get on my roof without trouble. I chase after him, like a game of cat and mouse. The world around me blurs as we leap from rooftop to rooftop. Icy wind courses through my hair and stings my cheeks, and for a short time, I feel like a bird soaring through the sky.
I jump off another roof, and Ash catches me when I land. We fall down, wrapped in each other’s arms. His body is hard underneath mine, his taut muscles easily carrying my weight. Every time he breathes, my body moves with him, like I’m bobbing up and down on the waves.
I trace my fingers over his lips, and he sighs, parting them slightly, showing a hint of fang. My heart quickens. The sight both scares and thrills me. I gently press my lips against his.
The jolt of electricity that passes between us is intense.
I laugh. “Did you feel that?”
“Feel what?” he mocks.
“That zap of electricity?”
He shakes his head, but I know he’s lying.
“Maybe we should try again?” he suggests.
I roll my eyes. “For scientific purposes only.”
We kiss again, and it’s just like a bolt of lightning zinging through my body. He pulls me closer to him, and our kiss deepens. I can feel his fangs against my lips, but it’s not an unpleasant sensation. After a few minutes, I grudgingly pull away, but I continue to lie on top of him, just listening to his heart. He plays with my hair, twirling a curl around his index finger.
“You should wear your hair down more often. It looks so beautiful,” he murmurs.
I giggle. No one’s ever called my hair beautiful before, not even Sebastian. But I don’t think he actually likes me that much; he just wants to possess me. Ash sighs contentedly.
“Are you happy?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I shift slightly on top of him, and his heart quickens. I still find the sound amazing. I did that.
“What was it like not having a heartbeat?” I say softly.
He’s silent for a moment, and I wonder if I’ve put my foot in it.
“It was hell,” he eventually says. “It was like being stuck between life and death; I could walk, talk, breathe, eat, but I never felt truly alive. I never felt part of this world.”
“And now you do?”
“Yes. Because of you.”
I snuggle closer to him.
“Do you only have one heart like a human, or two like a Darkling?” I barely know anything about twin-blood physiology, and I want to know everything about Ash.
“I only have one heart, like a human. When I met you, though, it activated just like a Darkling’s second heart, so I guess whatever I have inside me, it’s a combination of both species.”
“Best of both worlds?” I say.
He chuckles. “I never really thought of it like that before; I always thought it was the worst.”
We stay wrapped in each other’s arms until the sun starts to set over the city. Overhead the clouds turn heavy and black, threatening to storm. In the distance I hear the eerie wail of Darklings calling to each other from within the Legion as they wake from their slumber. Ash quietly listens.
“Do you wish you were there with them?” I roll over onto my stomach to face him.
“Yeah. It’s not easy being the only twin-blood in the city. It’s . . .”
“Lonely?” I fill in for him.
He nods. “But I don’t feel that way anymore.”
He takes my hand and places it over his chest. His heart beats steadily under my fingertips.
“That’s the beauty of having a Blood Mate. You’re always with me. I’m never alone,” he says.
“Don’t you wish you could see your family again, though?” I ask.
“I’m seeing them tonight.”
He tells me about Sigur and how he’s been invited to the Legion. I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly filled with an irrational fear. I don’t want him to go, but I can’t tell him not to see his family.
“How do you know Sigur?” I ask.
“He and my mom are Blood Mates. Mom left my dad to be with Sigur just as the war broke out.”
“That must’ve been very tough on you and your father,” I say.
He sighs. “It’s okay. I think I finally understand she didn’t have a choice. If she felt for Sigur what I feel for you, she had no option but to be with him.”
“How did they meet? You don’t have to tell me,” I add quickly, realizing I’m being tactless again. I’m just so curious about his life.
“Before the war broke out, Mom got involved with the Legion Liberation Front, back when they were civil rights activists rather than freedom fighters,” he explains. “She really cared about the cause. She even went to a sit-in at the Black City University, demanding that Darklings be given the right to an education.”
“Wow, I can’t believe she was involved in that,” I say, remembering my father telling me about it.
He nods. “Sigur led the movement. She was infatuated with him even before she met him. Dad used to tease her about it; he thought it was just a silly celebrity crush. Guess he was wrong. Thing is, I think Mom would’ve left my dad eventually anyway.”
“What makes you think that?”
“They fought about me a lot. The deeper Mom got involved with the civil rights movement, the more she wanted to raise me as a Darkling.”
“And your father didn’t want that?”
“He thought it would be easier for me to integrate if I was more human. They never even asked what I wanted.”
“And what did you want?”
“I wanted to be a Darkling. I wanted to live with my mom when the wall went up.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Ash looks off into the distance. “She never asked.”
“I’m glad you stayed. We wouldn’t have met otherwise,” I say.
He kisses me then. Softly, slowly, and my body fills with sunshine, making every part of me bloom into life. When we eventually pull apart, he stands up and helps me to my feet.
“I should really go. They’re expecting me,” he says.
I lower my gaze. “You promise you’ll come back to me?”
He lifts my chin and softly kisses my lips.
“Nothing will keep us apart,” he says.
The storm clouds above us finally burst, and the first drops of rain splash against my cheek. A chill seeps through me. I hope he’s right.
21
ASH
THERE’S A LOUD CLUNK as the metal gates slowly open. My stomach lurches, my nerves on edge. I’m finally going to step inside the Legion! I didn’t tell Dad I was coming here; he doesn’t even know I met Sigur last night or that I was arrested. It would just upset him, and he’s got enough on his plate with Mom. He thinks I’m spending the evening with Beetle.
Two guards appear in the entranceway, silhouetted in the moonlight. They’re over seven feet tall and broad like bears. Sigur stands between them, and although he isn’t as t
all as they are, he exudes more power. His pure white hair has been tied back with a bronze band, and he’s dressed in an intricately embroidered orange robe that matches his glittering eyes. He’s not wearing his gold mask, but then again, it’s nighttime, so there’s no sun to burn his skin.
He embraces me, and I tense up. I’m not prepared to play the role of the dutiful Blood Son just yet; we’re a long way off from that. The guards usher us into the holding area and close the main gates. One of my escorts shouts a command to the gatekeepers at the second set of gates, and they open. The other escort faces me and gives me a fangy grin. He’s an Eloka Darkling like me, with black eyes and hair, although his face is sharp and angular, with a pointed chin and long nose.
“After you,” he says, bowing low.
I step over the threshold.
I’m inside!
The smell hits me first. Decay, sewage, sickness—all the worst smells on Earth, and they’re all shooting up my nose. Sigur places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“You will get used to it soon enough,” he says, then turns to one of the guards. “Go ahead and prepare a feast for my guest.”
The guard nods and rushes on ahead.
I breathe through my mouth, horror-struck at the sights around me. We’re in a colossal shantytown, filled with thousands of ramshackle huts. The ground is covered in ash and mud and things I don’t even want to think about. Outside every hut, emaciated Darkling women hold their children up beseechingly, calling to me in their native tongues.
Our escort leads us through a warren of passageways and narrow streets. I try and keep track of where we’re going, but soon lose my way. I’ll never get out of here on my own.
The escort looks me up and down. “Mmm. Not so different from us. Just a little pikko.”
“Pikko?” I ask.
“Small,” Sigur explains.
The two men laugh, and my cheeks turn hot. I’ve never considered myself small before, but then again, I’ve been raised around humans. Darkling children gather around me, curious. I smile at them, trying my best to look friendly. They are, after all, my extended family. They stare back at me with wide, black eyes.