Read What Kills Me Page 5


  I tried to resist, tried to think of something else but my head lowered and my lips gravitated back to my legs. I lapped the blood from my skin, tentatively at first. Then more eagerly. I felt pleasure and then guilt. But before I could stop myself, I was dragging my tongue across my leg like a cat. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I felt.

  When I had licked away the last of the blood, I chewed the back of my index finger and felt self-conscious, which was absurd because no one was watching. I’m disgusting. I shuddered at the thought of ever having to bite someone and rubbed the pad of my thumb against my dull incisor.

  The general had fangs like a wolf. Will I grow fangs? That would be hard to explain. I could tell Mom and Dad that I got contact lenses and a chemical peel for a perfect complexion, but why do I have pointy teeth? That is, if I ever see them again.

  I couldn’t remember the last thing that I had said to my father. Did I say, “I love you?” What did he say to me? I tried to recall his voice. I pictured him calling my name, the way he would when the phone was for me, or when dinner was ready. I heard him chortle, the way he would when he was laughing at his own jokes. He sounded like a barking seal. I smiled at the memory.

  My nose prickled and I started to fray at the seams. Don’t cry. I could not come undone. I could not lose control because I would never get it back. Uther said it would be okay. My thoughts were unrelenting and so loud in the dark. And I had been in the dark for so long—maybe hours. The truck hurtled up tortuous roads. I teetered about like a bowling pin. I thought I could smell salt water. I thought I heard crashing waves. The sound was so loud I thought my head would burst from the pressure.

  The general had mentioned the Monarchy. He’d spoken of the Empress, so the vampires had a queen and she wanted to see me. She wanted to see the abomination. I hoped that she would be kind.

  Chapter 9

  The soldiers yanked open the doors of the truck. Behind them, I saw a castle—a massive, gothic stone structure, illuminated by floodlights at its base. The main tower had three long vertical windows and the light inside shone red.

  A soldier engulfed my head in a velvety black bag, while others chained my hands behind my back. My toes banged against the stone steps as they dragged me up a flight of stairs. Doors slammed behind me. Whispers swept by me, like cars speeding past. I heard the clank of metal and wood creaking. Incense was burning. They opened a door, releasing a cacophony of voices. People were speaking everywhere. I could hear heavy, measured footsteps and the squeaking of leather as the soldiers moved. A soldier shoved me to the ground. Someone grabbed my neck and pushed my forehead to smooth floor.

  “Kneel,” he ordered. “Don’t move.”

  The crowd quieted, becoming only the rustle of clothing, the shifting of feet.

  “General.” A throaty, female voice penetrated the hush. “We await your report.”

  Footsteps approached and the bag was torn from my head. I blinked and squinted to adjust my eyes to the light and flipped my head to remove the hair in my face.

  Oh my God.

  Hundreds of dark figures surrounded me in a white marble-floored ballroom. The light from a turquoise-colored glass ceiling cast a greenish pallor over their dour faces. Some—men and women in tailored black suits—appeared dressed for a funeral. Others—women in slim burgundy or black floor-length gowns—appeared dressed for the opera. They watched me with their flaming eyes and whispered to each other. A fence of soldiers separated me from the onlookers.

  “Your Highness,” the general said. He put his fist to his chest and bowed his head. “We visited the sanctum and discovered Cleric Uther with this—creature.” He aimed a finger at me. “The human gained access to the sanctum shortly after dusk. Cleric Uther confirmed this. He had failed to properly secure the entrance. The human was able to reach the shrine and tainted the Crucivium.”

  The crowd murmured.

  “This is the trespasser?” the Empress said. She seemed to exhale all of her words. She had an accent but it didn’t sound Italian.

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  The Empress stood on a balcony above the crowd. She gripped the white balustrade, her fingers adorned with bulky gemstones, her fingernails red. Her pale face was framed by a sleek sheet of ink-black hair that cut across her jawline. She wore a sculptural piece of jewelry, a spiraling steel ribbon that coiled around her slender neck and rested on her collar bone and chest. She studied me with her eyes. They were as vivid and blue as her strapless ultramarine gown, which featured a tight mosaic of mirror shards in a panel down the center, like the scaly underside of a dragon. I wanted to kneel before her glory. But I was already doing so.

  The Empress pursed her scarlet lips.

  “What of her abilities?”

  “She is a vampire. But she is extremely weak.”

  “Is she hostile?”

  “No. She did not resist arrest.”

  “Does she have a name?”

  “Yes, Your Highness. But I did not catch it.”

  “Child,” she said. It was as if I was hearing her breathy, lilting voice only in my mind. “What is your name?”

  “Axelia,” I said, my voice trembling.

  “Speak up for the court.”

  “My name is Axelia.”

  “Do you know what you are?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know why you are here?”

  “No.”

  “Where did you come from?”

  “I’m from Canada. I came here to study for the summer.”

  The Empress crossed her arms, her movements smooth and serpentine. Her dress reflected a patchwork of light under her chin. “Tell me then, what was your business at the church?”

  “I…I was taken there by a boy, uh, a vampire named Paolo,” I said.

  “How did you end up at our sacred well?”

  “He told me that he was going to kill me. So I ran. I just wanted to get away. He cornered me in the basement and then I fell.”

  I swallowed.

  “Had you ever been to that church before?”

  “No.”

  The Empress looked past me, and the crowd followed her gaze. I swiveled my head around and instantly my body locked up.

  Paolo walked into the ballroom with two soldiers at his side. He gave me a brief look of surprise and then disgust before focusing his gaze straight ahead, his chin high and his shoulders pressed down. Clad in a black jacket, dress shirt, and dress pants, he looked older. I loathed his haughty expression. Inside I raged.

  “Transporter,” the Empress said.

  Transporter?

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Paolo answered.

  “Do you recognize this vampire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who is she?”

  “She is the human who brought me to the church.”

  I whipped my head around to look at him. “What?”

  “She wanted to see the church. Once inside, she ran away and I followed her.”

  “He’s lying,” I said.

  A soldier struck me with the back of his hand and stars exploded before my eyes.

  “Ow!” I hit the floor with my shoulder.

  “Soldier,” the Empress said.

  “Forgive me, Your Highness,” he said. He pulled me back upright, and the stinging in my cheek and the ache in my shoulder receded.

  “Were you going to drink from her?” the Empress asked Paolo.

  “Yes.”

  “We should all be so lucky that our prey invite us to a secluded spot for a feeding.”

  The crowd tittered.

  “Were you going to kill her?” said the Empress.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re a monster!” I blurted.

  As the vampires around us started whispering, the Empress raised her left hand to silence the voices. The soldier moved toward me as a warning and I flinched.

  “Transporter, will you remind the court what your duty to the Monarchy is?”

  “I deliver p
rovisions.”

  “And have you ever been to the church before?”

  Paolo paused. He was paralyzed. Like a rat afraid to move in the presence of a predator. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “That’s right. You’ve delivered blood to the cleric,” she said. “Our Roman emissary’s daughter, Merrill, says that she has seen you around the premises.”

  The Empress’s tone dropped an octave. “Did you know about the shrine?”

  “No, Your Highness.”

  “But you knew that it was sacred ground.”

  “I…”

  “You knew that the cleric ran errands on Sunday so he would not be there to disturb your feast.”

  “No…” His mouth opened, his lower jaw jutting out.

  “Your behavior, Paolo, is most displeasing,” she said. “Your wanton trespassing on holy ground to satisfy your bloodlust is a disgrace.”

  Paolo looked as if he had been punched in the gut. “Please,” he said, his voice wavering.

  “Your behavior is unworthy of the Monarchy,” she said.

  I saw the faces in the crowd. Grim. Unforgiving. I looked back at Paolo. His eyebrows had shot up in alarm. He slapped a hand over his chest and dropped to his knees.

  “I beg Your Highness for her forgiveness.”

  “The Monarchy accepts your apology,” she said. “However, your transgression requires punishment.”

  “Please…”

  “For your actions that led to the desecration of our sacred shrine, I condemn you to death.”

  “No!” Paolo cried out as two soldiers grabbed him.

  He managed to push one away, sending the soldier flying, but then four more swarmed him.

  “Axelia,” the Empress said, surprising me by using my name. “Your existence is in violation of all that we hold sacred. You are a mistake, one that requires immediate correction.”

  No. Please.

  Unconsciously, I rose from my knees to face her verdict.

  “I condemn you to death.”

  Chapter 10

  “Please!” I yelled. “Let me go. I haven’t done anything wrong!”

  Sinking onto my haunches, I pulled against the shackles that bound my wrists behind me. My throat burned from screaming and from thirst, and I felt hysterical from fear and exhaustion. I longed for the metal door to swing open and for Uther to be standing there.

  “Is anyone there?” I cried out. “I need to speak to someone!”

  Paolo and I were trapped together inside a tight, cylindrical enclosure. The soldiers had chained Paolo two feet away against the opposite wall.

  “Will you just shut up?” He wore a look of disdain on his once-charming face, his nose scrunched as if he smelled something foul. One sleeve had been torn from his jacket, and his shirt had come undone. Several threads stuck out like spider legs where the buttons of his shirt had gone missing in the struggle to lock him up.

  “Hello?!” I hollered.

  “No one can hear you, you fool,” he growled.

  “Don’t talk to me,” I snapped. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You did this to me. You stole my life.”

  He lunged at me, gnashing his teeth, baring his fangs. I jerked back. His chains held him inches away from me.

  “You wretched little girl,” he said. “It’s your fault that we’re here. You’re the one who fell into the well. Now we’re going to die together because of you.”

  “The last thing that I want is to die here with you,” I said. “I hope you burn in hell.”

  His lips slowly descended back over his teeth and he looked away. He took a few steps back and leaned against the wall.

  “We’re both going to burn,” he said. “At least this way I get to watch you die.”

  “Why are you so cruel?” I whispered.

  He curled his lip. “You think I’m the villain.”

  “I wasn’t the one luring girls to the church to murder them.”

  “You do not comprehend, do you? You are insignificant. You humans crawl around the earth like insects, destroying the land. Do you think it matters if one of you gets crushed? You are food. I like to say you are nothing but ‘meat on feet.’” He laughed scornfully.

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Do you know what is wrong? When humans whine and cry before I feed. But hours earlier, they were eating steak. Where does that meat come from? I do not see people giving any sympathy to their meals.”

  He pointed at me. “You would understand now that you are a vampire. It is a pity that you will never get to drain a human being. It is exquisite. It is best when you hunt your own game and the blood is fresh. It is best when they struggle. It makes the blood flow faster…”

  “Stop it!”

  “I was looking forward to tasting you. I would have drawn every last drop.”

  “Shut up!”

  A minute of silence passed between us.

  “I didn’t want this,” I muttered.

  Paolo sniffed. “You should be grateful that you were even blessed for a moment. You have been rescued from your rotting corpse. You have experienced immortality. You have experienced perfection. Look at yourself. This is your purest form. Your worst qualities have been sifted out, the flaws and weaknesses blown away. The way you have been experiencing the world with your pathetic human senses? Now you know. You were living in a fog. You were appreciating only a fraction of what this world has to offer. That life was worth nothing.”

  “At least I had a life. I had a family. I was going to go to university and get married.”

  “That is pitiful, Zee.”

  “Don’t you dare say my name.”

  I can’t die here with him.

  I pulled at my chains. They were attached to a metal ring bolted into a plate in the wall. I scanned the ground for rocks, tools, anything that might jimmy the fastening.

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

  “We have to get out of here,” I said.

  “There is no way out. When the sun comes in, we are gone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He looked up. Our prison was topped with an iron grate. The sky through the grate was blue. It was dawn.

  “What happens when the sun comes in?” I asked.

  “We burn to dust.”

  ***

  I should have never trusted Paolo. My entire life I had been a good, cautious person. Just this once I had wanted a little adventure—and now this. Why? Why me?

  “You want to know?” Paolo said. I had unwittingly asked the question out loud.

  “Why you? Because you looked,” he paused, “as if you were bursting with energy. You were rushing through the streets with your pastries, looking wildly around, your cheeks flushed. And everyone else in comparison appeared in black-and-white slow motion.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was trying to be tender in our last moments. Perhaps he was sorry.

  “And as we walked, you babbled endlessly about your thoughts, your wants, your future. I didn’t care about what you were saying, but the way you spoke, so excited, it had been a long time since I had seen that kind of passion.”

  He looked me in the eye.

  “You were so full of life,” he said. “I simply wanted to take it. And you gave it so willingly.”

  I shook my head. “You disgust me.”

  The sky lightened and the air warmed. I heard gulls and waves. I could smell the sea. Paolo sat against the wall, his arms resting on his knees and his head down. I paced the floor and pressed my body against the stone walls. I thought of my parents. I thought of Ryka. I thought of Uther. Maybe there was still hope that he could get me out.

  “It is hopeless,” Paolo said. “Sit down.”

  “Why don’t you help me? You’re supposed to be stronger.”

  “What is the point? There is no escape,” he said, sniveling.

  “Are you…are you crying?” I asked, surprised.

  He raised his head and crimson tears leaked out of his
eyes. “I cannot die. I am too young. There is so much that I have not done,” he cried, his face contorted.

  “You’re too young? I’m seventeen. You’re like, a million years old.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Stop it. Stop crying. We need to figure this out. Listen. Paulo, listen to me. If we can somehow get these chains off, maybe we can climb the walls. The stones stick out a bit so I think I can get my fingers in…”

  Paolo started to wail. “The sun is coming!”

  I looked up. The light blue sky was cloudless and the sun’s rays came in at an angle on the wall above Paolo’s head. I could see particles of dust doing their dance in the sunlight.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  I grabbed the length of chain behind my back and ran toward Paolo to try to rip it from the wall. It didn’t budge. I threw myself forward again and again until I slipped and fell face down. Worn out, I rolled onto my side and pushed my feet against the wall, pulling the chain taut.

  “Please, I do not want to die!” Paolo moaned.

  “Shut up! I don’t want to die either,” I shouted. I meant I didn’t want to die again.

  The sun’s slow creep downward was agonizing. Paolo wept, his words becoming unintelligible. The light caused him to squint. Whimpering, he curled into the fetal position as the rays hovered over him.

  I continued my desperate work on my chains. Please break. Please break. The metal plate on the wall was secured with four bolts. I yanked on my bindings and I thought I saw the bolts jiggle.

  Yes!

  All of a sudden, Paolo shrieked. I turned and screamed.

  He was burning in the sun. Smoke lifted upward from his writhing body. His face, his hands and chest, were dark red and wet like a skinned animal. Yellow blisters bubbled up all over him and then burst as the skin tore into open wounds. The pus, viscous like tomato pulp, hardened into a brown layer. The sun singed off his thick hair and scabs spread across his scalp.

  Still in the shade, I pulled at my chains with all of my strength. Come on! The bolts loosened. I saw them spring up with every jerk.

  Paolo was now unrecognizable, covered in a smoldering, crackling charcoal crust. He had stopped moving. He was no longer screaming. Through the haze I could see that the door was already bathed in sunlight. I’m going to burn.

  I let out a piercing cry and wrenched the chain from the wall. The metal plate shot off and hit Paolo in the head, causing parts of his blackened face to crumble off. His body was starting to disintegrate, like a collapsing sand sculpture. I fell backward and wrestled my shackles under my butt and my legs so that my hands were at least in front of me, though still bound together by about a foot of heavy chain. I scrambled to my feet and reached for a handhold.