Page 14 of A Whisper in the Dark

He rested his hand on my shoulder. “You’ll get better at it with time, sweetheart. And we have nothing but time.”

Remembering how it used to be makes me want to cry again, but I refrain from doing so as I head down the street with a full stomach. Once again, I pull my hood over my head in an attempt to block out the daylight, however gray it may be, and move at inhuman speed back to the boardinghouse. By the time I creep up the stairs, my limbs are heavy with exhaustion.

It starts to rain again as I’m hurrying down the hallway. Water pounds against the roof with insubstantial fists as I slip into my room. Fully clothed, I lower myself onto the thin mattress and try to coax sleep to me. But now, with the hunger pangs gone, everything else I’ve been holding at bay has a chance to sweep down in a burst of flapping wings and flashing fangs. I wish I could be a child again with the belief that a single blanket will keep the monsters away.

Where will I go in two days?When the money runs out, I won’t be able to rent a room or an apartment. Maybe there’s a homeless shelter nearby? Theremustbe other Lavenders in the city…

Suddenly there’s a soft scratching at the door. I’m already on edge, and the sound makes my heart lurch in my chest. I sit upright in a blur, uncertain whether I want to fight or flee, hardly daring to breathe… until I hear a heartbeat that’s faint and small through the thin layer of wood.

“Damn cat,” I mutter, getting off the bed with a relieved sigh. I cross the room on silent feet and open the door. The little beast runs in, brushes past me without expressing any sort of gratitude, and immediately leaps for the windowsill. Her calico fur glows prettily in a flash of lightning as she sits, curls her tail around her paws, and gazes out the glass at the rain falling from heavy clouds. I close the door and hurry back into bed, making the bedsprings squeak.

Within seconds, the fear and the worry comes back, wrapping around me like a blanket of thorns. The air is so cold that it seems to sprout icicles that sink into my skin. I combat both shivers and sobs, but as the day wears on, I lose the war to both. Again and again, I relive the expression on the Vampire King’s face as he closes himself to me. Forever.

An hour passes. Two. On hour three, though my heart still aches, my tears run dry. My face feels swollen as I roll over and stare at the cat. I pray to sleep like it’s a god, able to grant wishes and pay visits. Meanwhile the sun plods along the cloud-filled road it travels every day. Shadows shift over the uneven floorboards. All the while, the creature on the windowsill doesn’t do anything—she just stays through every pang of panic, every tear of terror, a silent presence.

Sometimes, though, that’s really all you need. And at long last, keeping my gaze on the cat’s demure face, I fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

I wake to the sound of sirens and the sharp bark of gunfire.So it wasn’t a terrible dream, I think as I open my eyes. A sigh fills my throat. Just in case I forgot where I was, Oldbel is here to remind me.

“Drew, you havegotto stop watering dead plants. Throw themaway.”

Shouts float through the paper-thin walls. There’s a flurry of activity on the other side of the door. More footsteps pound past. Doors open and slam. Ada’s voice thunders from somewhere downstairs, and in that instant, I realize breakfast is over.

Shit. I’m going to be late on my first day.

I hurry to yank my shoes on. My phone still rests on the nightstand. I snatch it up, then open the door just in time to see a thin human fly past. I poke my head out and watch the young boy, wearing only a towel around his boney waist, slip into one of the other bedrooms.

“Shower’s free!” he hollers, his voice breaking mid-sentence. He can’t be more than twelve or thirteen. The door slams shut, making the walls on the entire floor tremble.

An instant later, another set of hinges groan. A harried-looking woman emerges wearing pink floral pajamas. She notices me standing there, frowns slightly, and walks by without a word before rushing to close the bathroom door behind her.

Nice to meet you, too.

Then, within my next breath, two more doors open. Nina brushes past, and I notice the reek of dust and sweat on her clothes. Working clothes. My nose wrinkles. “You missed breakfast,” is all she says.

Drew is right behind her. “I tried to wake you, but you must be a heavy sleeper,” he offers apologetically.

The confirmation that I missed a freshly-made meal makes my face fall. Despite what old human literature says, vampires eat solid food… we just don’t have to in order to keep living. As the twins reach the end of the hall, my stomach makes a sound of protest. Both humans look back at me, Nina wearing an expression of impatience and Drew looking expectant. “Aren’t you coming?” he calls, forgetting there’s no need to raise his voice. “Our shift starts in fifteen minutes.”

Oh, god. This is really happening.

“What would happen if I didn’t go?” I ask, thinking of the weepers. I’ve never fought anyone in my life. Well, aside from my siblings, and they never truly tried to harm me. This… this is life or death.

Nina snorts, as if my question is ridiculous. She’s not wrong.

“After the king personally made sure you were assigned to this sector?” Drew clarifies. He tilts his head and falls silent for a few seconds, as though he’s really considering it. “You’d probably be treated like every other deserter—they’d add your name to the bounty list. Every hunter in New Ve would be out for you.”

I’ve heard of bounty hunters, of course. In the interest of delegation, the king had decided to keep certain aspects of the humans’ judicial courts intact. Each district has its own law officials and hearing courts. If someone tries to run, a bounty hunter steps in.

I don’t really feel like being hunted today.

“I guess we’d better get going, then,” I manage, glancing down at the clothes I showed up in last night. Since I slept in them, they’re even more disheveled now. But they’ll have to last a while longer.

As we descend the stairs, the cat twining between our ankles and yowling for its breakfast, Ada’s voice drifts to me again. I hear my name. Unnerved, I follow the sound of murmured conversation into the parlor. To my surprise, Drew and Nina follow.

The boardinghouse owner stands in the middle of the room, her posture stiff and furious. She must wake up earlier than everyone else, because her blond hair is tucked back in an elegant chignon, and the scent of soap rolls off her skin. When my eyes fall on the man standing next to her, I frown and take in his almost-completely tattooed skin. He’s wearing leather pants and a v-neck shirt that shows off his smooth skin and defined muscles. Why would these two be talking about me?

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