His heart’s been torn out.
A pair of headlights illuminates the road beside us, heading in our direction. It looks like the Sentry guard has already been called to the scene.
“Go. It’s not safe here,” I say to Ash.
Ash takes one last lingering look at me, then disappears into the shadows.
* * *
Back in my bedroom, Martha wraps a blanket around my shoulders and hugs me tight. She’s so soft and plump, it’s like cuddling a pillow.
“It’s my fault. I told him to wait there. If I hadn’t . . .” My sentence is cut off by more tears.
She strokes my hair, saying soothing things in my ear. Part of me can’t help but resent my mother for not being here with me. She even delegates her motherly duties to the staff. That’s all I am to her, another chore to be dealt with.
“What’s worse is I’m almost relieved,” I admit. “That could’ve been Sebastian. Is that terrible of me?”
She shakes her head. “You care for him, no matter what’s gone on between you both.”
There’s a knock at the door and Sebastian strides in, worry etched over his handsome face. Martha moves aside as he pulls me into a tight embrace and kisses my forehead.
“I’ve spoken to your mother. It was a mistake to let Malcolm guard you tonight; we’ve agreed that I’ll be the only person protecting you from now on,” he says.
I expected as much, and to be honest, I’m grateful. The thought of that Darkling still out there, hunting me, is terrifying. I know Sebastian will never let it hurt me.
I sit up, remembering something. “Someone was following us earlier.”
“Are you sure?” Sebastian asks.
“Yes, Malcolm sensed it. I’m certain now it’s the same one who killed Truffles and stalked me at the museum.”
I burst into fresh tears. Why did I go out tonight? I should’ve turned back the instant Malcolm sensed something was wrong. I don’t understand what’s happening. Why is that Darkling after me? And why is it ripping out its victims’ hearts?
“I want to be alone,” I say.
The instant they’re gone, I grab Ash’s jacket off the floor and wrap myself in it, letting the tears fall freely, wishing more than anything he were here with me. I breathe in the scent of his jacket and my heart flutters.
Blood Mate. I’m his Blood Mate.
The door opens, and Polly slips into the room. She lies down beside me and strokes my hair. The zigzags of scars down her face look stark in the moonlight. More tears spill down my cheeks, remembering how she used to comfort me like this back in the old days, before she got hurt.
“I’ve met a boy,” I confide in her. “But he’s a Darkling. I don’t know what to do. Mother would kill me if she found out, and after what happened with Father . . . I just feel like I’m betraying him by wanting to be with Ash.”
“You’re not betraying Father—you’re honoring him. He wanted Darklings and humans to live as equals. It’s what he died for,” she whispers back.
“But they’re so dangerous,” I reply.
“Is this boy dangerous?” she asks.
“He’s my Blood Mate. He’d never hurt me.” I tell her about Ash’s heart and how I activated it. “He’s not like those other Darklings. He’s kind and generous, and he cares about me.”
“It sounds like you know what you want to do,” she replies.
“I’m scared,” I admit.
Polly squeezes my hand. “Don’t live your life in fear. If you want to be with him, then do it. Be brave, little sister.”
Her words ring around my head. Be brave. I’ll do my best. I want to be with Ash, and I’ll fight for him, but deep down, I worry we’ll never get our happily ever after. Polly wraps her arm around me, and I’m soon asleep.
* * *
I’m inside the red cave. The walls around me pulse, and I finally understand why they feel so warm and sticky to the touch. This cave isn’t made of stone; it’s made of flesh. Terror rips through me. Where am I?
The shaved-haired child stands in the center of the cave wearing nothing but a green sheet around his waist. Lying by his feet are the corpses of Malcolm and Truffles. Blood continuously seeps out of their bodies, filling the room until it sloshes around my ankles.
“What is it you want?” I yell.
The boy brings his hands up to his face and starts crying, a horrific, chilling sound. He slowly turns, his hands still obscuring his face. Something is terribly wrong.
I scream when I realize what it is.
There’s a hole in his chest where his heart is meant to be.
18
ASH
THE NEXT DAY IS TENSE. I didn’t pick Beetle up on the way to school like normal, and he enters class just after the morning bell rings, looking more of a mess than usual, his nose still swollen from our fight last night.
He walks over to Day’s desk.
“What are you doing?” she spits.
“Sitting down?” he says.
“Not next to me,” she replies.
His brow furrows. “But . . . last night, we kis—”
“Sshhh,” she says, placing a finger to her lips. “Nothing’s changed. I can’t be with you. Go away.”
There go Beetle’s ears again, turning bright pink. He scans the classroom for another place to sit. There are only two other spaces available: one at the table beside me, next to a girl named Annabelle, who looks at him like she’d rather vomit than have him sit next to her, and one next to me.
He opts for me. I don’t say hello; I’m still mad at him for calling me a collaborator. What the hell does he know about anything?
I overhear Annabelle chatting to two girls in front of her.
“I can get my hands on some of that Golden Haze for the party,” she says quietly. “You can buy it from this guy, Mr. Tubs.”
My fangs throb at the mention of Mr. Tubs’s name. He runs a Haze den in Chantilly Lane, and Linus used to work for him. I’m surprised anyone would buy Golden Haze after Linus died, but then again, Hazers don’t really care about the risk; they just want to get high. Besides, it’s not like everyone who takes the drug dies. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have become so popular with the Hazers. Linus was just unlucky.
At that moment, Sebastian enters the classroom, followed by Natalie. My heart somersaults. Her lips flicker into a smile, but she quickly hides it. Sebastian leads her toward Day’s desk.
“Not there,” she says, and sits next to Annabelle instead.“I’ll be waiting for you by the steps after school. Don’t be late,” he says to her.
She nods, but doesn’t look at him as he leaves.
We have a study period now, so we all get out our textbooks to catch up on the week’s homework. Natalie glances over at me, just for a few seconds, but so much meaning passes between us in that look. I need to talk to her; I have to find out where we stand. I tear off a corner of paper from my notebook and scribble a note:
I can’t stop thinking about you.
I screw it up into a tiny ball and wait until Annabelle gets up to sharpen her pencil before tossing it onto Natalie’s desk. She furtively looks around her, checking no one is watching, before unfolding the note. Smiling, she quickly writes a separate reply.
Picking up some pencils, she walks over to Annabelle, dropping the note on my desk as she passes by, the sleight of hand so good, no one except Beetle notices. He flashes me a disapproving look, but he can go fragg himself. This is none of his business.
I open the message:
Me too. So what now? I’m willing to take the risk, are you?
The memory of Tom Shreve and Jana Marwick being executed comes into my mind. Can I really do this? Dare I risk it? Natalie sits back down and flicks a look at me with those beautiful cornflower-blue eyes of hers, waiting for my response. My blood suddenly feels red hot in my veins.
I nod.
She shyly smiles.
Natalie tucks the note I wrote to her into her satchel. I pop hers in my pocket. I can’t believe we’re really going to do this, but at the same time it feels inevitable that we would. The instant we met, our fates were sealed; we were destined to be together.
Next to me, Beetle takes a ragged breath. He’s holding back the tears as he stares forlornly at Day.
“I’m sorry, mate. She doesn’t know what she’s missing,” I say before I can help myself.
He wipes his eyes and shrugs. “Whatever.”
I mutter a curse under my breath. Why am I being nice to him after what he called me last night? Fury wells up inside me.
“I’m not a collaborator,” I whisper, so we can’t be overheard. “I’m not one of those Darklings who hooked up with Trackers during the war. She’s my Blood Mate. Do you understand what that means?”
He looks at me with wide eyes. “I didn’t know.”
“Do you really think we’d risk everything if this weren’t serious? Honestly, I thought you of all people would be happy for me. You’re such a hypocrite.”
“She’s the Emissary’s daughter. The Sentry government bombed this city and killed my parents. I can’t just forget that,” he replies.
“No one’s asking you to forget,” I say. “Just put the blame where it belongs. Natalie had nothing to do with those air raids. She can’t help who her parents are; it doesn’t automatically make her a bad person.”
“I know. I’m sorry I was such an ass, bro.”
“You really were.”
“We okay?” he asks.
I shrug. “I’ll think about it.”
The rest of the day goes better than normal, and it’s all because of one thing: Natalie. We make sure we’re not seen together very often, and when we are, we keep our distance so people don’t suspect anything. But even so, we pass secret smiles and more notes between us. Her heart beats inside mine, and it’s like I’m carrying a little piece of her with me wherever I go.
At some point during the day, it begins to snow, and by the time it gets to last period, the city is covered in a blanket of white. I head to drama with Beetle. Natalie and Day are already in the dark auditorium, although they’re not sitting together. I steal a look at Natalie, and my heart somersaults. I can’t believe we’re together. Beetle slumps down in his seat and shuts his eyes. He’s looking sweaty and pale. He’s either getting sick, or he’s going into Haze withdrawal again. I suspect the latter. I’m not going to give him any Haze, unless I can’t avoid it. The longer he goes between hits, the less he’ll need it.
Our drama teacher, Mr. Kimble, a slender man wearing a velvet patchwork suit, walks onto the stage and runs us through the day’s assignment: acting out a scene from Elward’s play Demetrius and Helene. All the boys in the auditorium groan, while the girls giggle. Mr. Kimble assigns us all our roles. Of course, the two most popular students in the group get the lead parts.
“Who would like to help with the props and lighting?” Mr. Kimble asks.
Natalie and I shoot our arms up in the air.
There are more mumblings from the boys as we head backstage. Natalie and I search for props to decorate the stage sets, while the cast gets props for their outfits.
“I’m going to find a sword,” Beetle mumbles, heading into the depths of the prop store.
Day ponders what costume to wear, while everyone else just grabs what’s nearest. Natalie strolls over to me, and we pretend to look through a wooden box of clothes. Our hands slide under the material, and I lace my fingers through hers. Her cheeks flush.
Day shoots us a bitter look.
“I take it Day’s still mad at us?” I whisper to Natalie.
“She can be as mad as she wants. It’s her fault we’re not friends anymore,” she replies.
“Maybe we should cut her some slack?”
Natalie raises a brow at me.
“I just feel bad for her. She’s all alone,” I say.
“She has only herself to blame. If she apologizes, then I’m willing to forgive her, but until then, she’s on her own,” Natalie says.
“Everybody back onstage in one minute,” Mr. Kimble says.
Natalie takes a handful of props up to the auditorium while I look for Beetle. He’s tucked away in a corner of the room, wedged between two rails of costumes. In his hand is a phial of Haze, which shimmers gold, just like the stuff Linus had.
I grab it from him and smash it under my boot.
“What do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be quitting,” I say, keeping my voice low.
“I can’t do it, bro. I’m not strong enough.”
“Yes you are.”
He lowers his eyes. “I just need a small hit to tide me over.”
His skin has a ghostly pallor, and his hands are shaking. He looks really sick. I’ve known users to die from Haze withdrawal.
I sigh. “This is the last time.”
He tilts his head to one side, revealing two old puncture wounds. Guilt squirms through me, but he needs this. I sink my fangs into his neck. Hot blood splashes over my tongue, and for a second, the predator in me hungers to just drink him dry. I only release a small amount of venom into his system before—
“What are you doing?” a shrill voice says nearby.
I turn to see Day, her hands laden with props. She drops the items on the floor and rushes out of the room.
“Day, I’m sorry,” Beetle says, staggering after her.
I wipe the blood from my lips, hating myself.
I head to the auditorium to meet Natalie. We climb up to the rafters above the stage and check the lighting rig while the other students run through their lines. Even from up here, the tension between Day and Beetle is palpable as she shouts her lines at him during a comedic scene while he just silently sways. I only gave him a drop of Haze, but even so, he’s probably feeling pretty spaced out.