Page 2 of Hunted
I turned the fancy taps and washed my face.Cold water.Sharp-scented soap.Mechanical motions—it gave me a flashback to all the time I’s spent cleaning blood off the floor back in Acacia’s cathedral, back when I was her assistant, her fixer of broken toys, the silent little caretaker of her involuntary blood donors.Here I was, her slave again, just when I’d thought I was free.
I glared into the mirror.My skin was too smooth.My coloring wasn’t as warm as it once was.There were dark circles under my eyes, and the eyes themselves looked bright and brittle, like shattered glass.It was the face of a stranger.
Sighing, I left the bathroom and plopped down in the chair at the far side of the suit to try meditating again, to build walls around the part of me that was still me and keep the monster who had sired me out of my head.But my defenses were weak.Instead of sturdy barriers, I only managed to erect fragile, fractured glass walls.No shelter.Just—crack after crack, and the thing on the other side pacing the perimeter, laughing at me, multiplied in every mirrored shard.
Snorting in disgust, I gave up the mental and magical exercises and picked up the nearest book in the pile Richard had dumped on me a few days ago with a muttered “for your bedtime amusement,” and a crooked grin.
The Quest for Liberation: Journal Accounts of the Blood Bonded.
It turned out to be a compilation of dozens of old journal entries and accounts from humans who had been turned into vampires against their will and sought a way to sever the blood bond.The book was ancient, the paper yellowed and fragile.And I doubted a single one of these poor bastards had ever succeeded in breaking their blood bond to their sire.
My newfound pessimism rose up and threatened to choke me.Very useful.In the way a paper umbrella is useful in a thunderstorm.I shoved my skepticism away and forced myself to read.It wasn’t like I had anything else to do at the moment.
I read for hours.Passages and diagrams began to blur together.I underlined a few sections I didn’t understand, and circled one name again and again—Claudius.Apparently,someonehad gotten free without simply killing their maker and hoping they didn’t die along with the vampire who created them.But the mysterious Claudius’s story wasn’t actually included in the book.It was just mentioned in passing about a million times.
Awesome.Good to know.
I shoved the book off the table with a frustrated groan and leaned back in the chair, pushing into it with my increased strength until it creaked under my weight.Anger was starting to overtake the despair.The simmering rage was definitely a more empowering and useful feeling.But it didn’t help with the hunger, or the potential for violence inside me.
Across the room, Ruya’s pet crow, Odin, sat on the curtain rod over the painted-on window, as still and dark as ever.It was odd for Ruya’s pets to glom onto anyone other than her.But Odin had been here all night.
“You spying on me?Going to tell the others how messed up I am?”I asked.But the intended wry humor fell flat.My voice cracked halfway through.
Odin didn’t answer.Just blinked.Tilted his head like he was studying an interesting new puzzle.
He’d been sitting there since before I’d tried to lose myself in sleep.Ruya trusted him.And she trusted me not to hurt him.Which meant...maybe she still trusted me, a little.
I dragged a blanket off the bed and curled up in the armchair, knees to my chest.The urge to cry came and went like a tide.Mostly I felt hollow.Like I was wearing a Josh-shaped skin over something much uglier.
When the dreams had first started, I thought the trauma would pass, that the voice would fade.But she was a part of me now.And it seemed that connection only grew stronger as the days passed.
I missed the others.Badly.Craved a comforting touch or a soft kiss.Something to remind me that I was still...human, I suppose, even though I really wasn’t.Oh, they still tried to interact with me like nothing had changed.But I couldn’t let myself reach out to them for comfort the way I might have in the past.
Every conversation.Every apology.Every glance, or touch, or stolen from Sadavir or Ruya in the hallway.Every flinch when Cicely smiled too brightly.Every time I lingered near Ruya’s aura like it was a balm, and then darted away because I didn’t want Acacia to see.The monster saw it all anyway.She saw the respect, and care, and love we had for one another.And I knew she would use it against me, against us all, whenever it best suited her.
No one said the word spy.Or weapon.They didn’t have to.It was obvious.I curled tighter into the blanket.
The overhead light flickered.The wards flaring again.Sanka hadn’t been able to find a way to block the blood bond entirely.But he had been fiddling with the protections around The Fox and had managed to at least make it so Acacia had to work harder and expend more energy if she wanted to reach me.The pressure in my head grew sharp, like a needle twisting behind my eyes.Her punishment for the interference.
I pressed my hand to my chest.Whispered the words again.Not for Acacia.Not for anyone else.Just for me.“I am not yours.I belong to me.”
Odin clacked his black beak loudly and croaked in what I hoped was agreement.
