Darklight 4: Darkblood Read online

  Dorian's broad shoulders stayed hunched below the tall tangle of grasses and vines as he moved assuredly toward the trees lining the back of a towering, curved structure. Was it a building? It was hard to tell—it twisted so organically that it didn’t seem possible that it was a deliberate construction.

  Laini carefully scanned the area, her violet eyes quick to take in everything. “There’s no darkness close by from the living,” she reported quietly. “Only from the souls in the ground.”

  I wondered if it was tough for vampires to differentiate between the kinds of darkness, depending on whether they came from a living being or from a loose soul. Inkarri had been confused when she’d interrogated me during our battle by the lake, as if she wasn't sure what to make of my energy. I’d wanted to scream at her cruel face that it was live human light energy she sensed.

  “Keep an eye out for skimmer patrols,” Kane whispered hoarsely. “The Hive said there are always a few flying over the city, even if they weren’t stirred up by Kono.” He bent to avoid a bunch of fruit hanging from the oily, seaweed-like vines on the tree.

  I’d become familiar with skimmer patrols over the past day of hiding, though I had yet to see the flying vessels up close. I kept my eyes on the sky, looking for the flashes of white edged with soft light moving deliberately among the aimless souls, warning of the incoming craft.

  A small rustle sounded up ahead. Dorian put his finger to his lips and motioned us forward. For a long moment, nothing moved except for us. Dorian took a step forward, and something small darted away through the grass.

  Up ahead, the vines and grass and algae-covered trees gave way to a clearing in a park area. Shivering lavender grass covered the small hill. Leading up the hillside, the trees Dorian directed us toward swayed slightly. They were like the palm trees I had seen on rare childhood vacations, a far cry from the hardier trees of Chicago. Their leaves appeared rigid and tough. When they brushed against one another, they let out tiny metallic scrapes. Roxy glanced over her shoulder and sent me a furtive glance. What sort of bizarre nature grew razor-sharp palm leaves?

  As we trudged toward a city bathed in the light of innumerable souls, I shivered, unable to help myself. Dorian’s cloak flapped ahead in the slight breeze, the same wind brushing the groaning leaves together and ferrying the souls above us. In this place, he was the leader we needed, just like when we were on the run from the Bureau and I had taken up the primary leadership position on the human side. Admiration felt warm when it spread through my body, and it melted away some of my unease. This was the person I had chosen to follow for now, and I had chosen him for a reason. There were feelings so deep inside me that they frightened me. Maybe one day I would put a name to them…

  Dorian darted around a patch of tall flowers—the stems black and the flowers white—weaving effortlessly across the grass. He radiated confidence despite our intense circumstances.

  My stomach sank for a moment as a thought teased across my mind like a spider’s ghostly legs tiptoeing down my neck. He charges ahead too often. He’s right to take point on this, but we can’t afford for his confidence to become recklessness.

  I hopped over a puddle of aquamarine water. It reflected the clouds of amber souls drifting in the gloomy sky above us. For a moment, I saw a flash of my own face. My skin had paled from our time on the run. I ached for real sunshine.

  Keeping to the shadows, staying low and fast, we stealthily hurried to the structure. As we drew closer, it finally began to resemble a building. It was hard to tell with the structures inside Itzarriol. The buildings stretched and bent strangely, sometimes seeming to change shapes as I squinted at them. Would I ever get used to the Immortal Plane?

  I caught the profile of Dorian’s handsome face.

  Maybe I would find a reason to want to.

  Chapter Two

  The ghost of tension that hung over us had only grown stronger by the time we gathered at the base of the trees. Laini looked around, listening intently for something. Maybe the call of a hunter’s horn, or the sound of velek hooves thundering toward us. Kane rubbed his chin, staring at my backpack.

  “You little turtles will never make it up there quietly,” Kane said sourly.

  I shifted the bag. “It's not that heavy.”

  Dorian reached out a tentative hand, feeling the bark. “The bark isn’t going to be easy for the humans.”

  I stepped up to another tree, dragging a finger down it. He was right. The bark looked rippled from afar, but up close, it was much smoother. There was a slight grain and lumps here and there, but not enough to get a good grip, even if we wrapped our rope around it and counterbalanced ourselves as we walked up the trunk. It would take too long, leaving us vulnerable to being spotted.

  Laini began to stretch. “We need strength and speed here.”

  Dorian caught Laini’s movement, and a lopsided smirk crossed his face. “I’ll get up there and drop a rope down. You two will carry the humans on your backs for this one. It’ll be faster and easier.” His eyes darted briefly toward me. “Laini can carry Lyra.”

  “What is that?” Roxy muttered, eyeing the height. “A two-story-high tree?”

  “It's not that bad,” Kane said and shook his head in Dorian's direction. "Thanks for volunteering us as babysitters, brave leader."

  "Like we want to be vampire backpacks," Roxy shot back. They dissolved into good-natured whispered bickering, both of them grinning as they prepared to climb. It was best for them to get it out of their system now, since they wouldn’t have a chance in the city. Laini rolled her eyes and crouched, patting her back.

  "Get on, Lyra. Let's leave the two whiners to climb together." She winked at me, but there was something sharp in her eyes that I wasn’t used to seeing. It was as if the Immortal Plane had shifted her sweet nature into something rawer.

  I climbed onto Laini's back, which was surprisingly sturdy beneath my weight. Dorian was already halfway up a tree, his strong fingers finding ridges and knots to grip until he reached the more robust branches. Then he clambered from one to another quickly and easily.

  "You'll choke me if you hold on like that," Kane hissed quietly.

  "You're trying to throw me like a sack of potatoes," Roxy protested. “And I only choke people if they ask me very nicely, so feel flattered."

  Up above, I could see Dorian had already made it to the treetops. He carefully held back the leaves, which were apparently as sharp as they looked, as he dropped a rope down for our less dexterous pairs, tying it around the thick branch he was balanced on as Laini, and then Kane, practically ran up the sleek tree trunk with the extra aid. We made it to the treetops and stooped in the branches, keeping clear of the razor leaves. Laini gently eased me off her back but kept me close as we tried to get our bearings. The smooth bark felt slippery beneath me, which was alarming at this height, but the tree itself was as solid as stone, not swaying even a little in the breeze. Looking out at Itzarriol from the trees was almost mesmerizing, if I forgot about the pack of power-hungry homicidal rulers inside the city limits.

  Once everyone was gathered and steady, we followed Dorian as he stepped lightly onto the nearest rooftop. We were forced to reduce the fifteen-foot limit, and the burning heat flared in my chest. I fought the pain, knowing that the stealth aspect of our mission required that we keep close.

  The rooftops on the nearby buildings—consisting primarily of tiles in jarringly different colors of blue and neon pink with splashes of dirt brown—overlapped a little with shadows from the bordering trees, but it wasn't much. I frowned as I crouched, carefully placing my feet on the bright stone to make sure I didn’t send a tile sliding down the angled roof. Dorian placed himself at the very opposite edge of the roof. Still, a bead of sweat dripped down my forehead.

  Kane and Roxy scrambled to join us.

  "You’re being very inconsiderate," Roxy muttered, swiping at a cut on her cheek where Kane had evidently run her into a leaf by accident.

  Kane snorted, but there was a punch of amusement in it. "My apologies, Your Royal Human Weakness."

  Dorian gestured for us to follow. It was a small movement of his hand, but the kind that came from someone wholly immersed in their leadership role, completely focused on getting us safely across these rooftops. It was very attractive.

  I massaged the tiny knot in my chest, knowing that any increase in feelings could pose a risk to our mission. The mission. The Immortal rulers. The compromised safehouse. Serious risk of capture and torture. God, I needed to get my head on straight and focus.

  Reaching into the front pocket of my pack that held the scope from my disassembled rifle, I surveyed the dazzling cityscape of Itzarriol through its magnifying lens, searching for any sign that hunters were on the move in the direction we were heading. The dim sky was often hazy with soul-light during the brighter times, but the illumination here was a maelstrom of chaos. Lights flashed across the sky just above the city, strobing to the dull amber-edged clouds. Souls pirouetted inside the clouds, sometimes escaping to float up or down, only to land in another cloud. The sleek white form of a skimmer momentarily cut through the colored clouds, thankfully too far away for its pilot to spot us.

  It was nauseating and beautiful, but I didn’t see any commotion that suggested hunters were on the move.

  I put my scope away as Laini gently nudged my hand. We were moving. We leapt from one roof to the next, leaving the shadows behind with the treetops. Fortunately, the tops of the bizarre buildings—made of a disconcerting mix of materials and textures—often held elaborate chimneys, statues, or metallic frescoes that provided us with cover.

  I let Roxy overtake me again to put more distance between Dorian and me. We crept along as carefully as we could, using the occasional clouds of color
ed smoke rising from the chimneys to hide our movement, the scaled leather of the Hive-made boots helpfully quiet on the polished brass of the roof. Figures wearing ornate robes began to dot the streets, and I kept my eyes peeled for any individuals wearing the garb of hunters. The knives hidden within my boots provided a familiar sense of comfort.

  Just a young woman, her closest supernatural friends, a compromised safehouse, and a perilous mission. Typical Tuesday. Not that I’m even sure it’s a Tuesday.

  From beyond the rooftops, I could hear the rising mirth of a city that reveled in its power. Laughter rose in the air alongside the silvery tinkling of bells. Kane swore as we all ducked behind a series of golden statues depicting various horrific-looking creatures that I had no names for. Dorian turned to glare at him, but the loud music easily covered our movements.

  Was Itzarriol always so violently vibrant? Was this place like the stories I had read about ancient kingdoms celebrating large feasts every night? Irrikus's stony face drifted back into my mind. I wagered the Immortal rulers celebrated themselves and nothing more. What a fitting people to potentially reach out to Alan and the old board, who did the same.

  Dorian led us quickly and made sure to point covertly when we passed certain buildings. He told us the night before that there would be landmarks that the Hive used to reach their safehouse. It was located in a quiet section near an extensive collection of gardens in one of the suburbs.

  We had more than the intel from the Hive vampires on our side, though. The vampires' innate ability to sense darkness meant it would be difficult for an Immortal to sneak up on us. And a living human soul hid well among this jumble of frequencies. Or auras. Or whatever. But I remembered Dorian mentioning that vampire senses became less reliable with multiple presences. Would they get confused by the buffet of darkness teeming on the ground?

  The buildings began dropping in height. Voices around the sides of the buildings were louder, closer. My pulse staggered as someone ran right by the alley next to us. Sound still had a strange way of traveling even in the confines of the Immortal capital. Kane turned to the side slightly, showing off his strong nose and the hint of a fang.

  Definitely darkness around us.

  I ducked behind a diamond-studded chimney as tall as four men and peeked around the edge for a moment. I could now make out the tops of heads as they walked past, footsteps clacking across tiles and stones. Towering hairstyles with green, pearl-studded combs sat atop the fussy heads of two Immortal rulers, defying the laws of gravity. Perhaps they were literally defying the laws of gravity somehow. Laini prodded my side, urging me to continue. She growled under her breath. Her fangs were fully extended, black-ringed violet eyes blazing with hunger, reminding me of her moment on the harvester's boat. I nodded and focused on where I was putting my feet as I caught up to the others. The vampires were on high alert, but my wandering eye kept returning to catch glimpses of life in the Immortal city.

  If Las Vegas paid homage to gaudiness, Itzarriol had transformed it into an organized religion. Dazzling silver, gold, and evergreen ribbons were tied in bunches from impossibly ornate lampposts that held jars stuffed to bursting with souls. I spotted flashes of scarlet robes that swept through the spaces between buildings. A few groups appeared to be sashaying down the main street. A house shaped like a gingerbread cottage began to crumble on the other side of the street. Nobody stopped to pay it any mind. The house melted then sprang back up into a castle made entirely of bubbles. The next moment, all the bubbles popped simultaneously, exploding into glitter that spelled out “Zedera’s Magic Mansions”. Apparently, it was an ad… for a magical architect.

  Next to it, a hot pink temple built in Greco-Roman style trembled as thunderous drum music played within its walls. The temple was built on a higher platform, and a group of tall, beautiful Immortal rulers dressed in shimmering robes of gold gathered around the fountain. With a jolt of alarm, I realized they would be able to see us from their vantage point if they looked up even a little.

  Dorian clicked his tongue, and Laini and I ducked behind one of twelve spindly black chimneys all twisting together out of the roof. The others, who were farther ahead, took refuge on the next roof behind the large towering bust of a woman. Laini glared at the merry group of partiers. We would have to wait for them to slip inside.

  One of the Immortal rulers, the tallest with long braids of pastel pink hair, abruptly held up an elegant finger. She plucked something from her bag dramatically while her friends tapped their feet, clad in heels that must have put another ten or more inches on their already willowy height.

  At least we can be sure they aren’t hunters.

  The pink-haired Immortal fished a silver tin out of her clutch and undid the top. She dipped a finger into a glittering yellow substance. I squinted, and Laini cursed quietly. The Immortal smeared the substance over her lips. It glistened with a familiar amber glow. Nausea and rage surged up my throat. She had applied dark energy to her lips! My eyes flicked to the others. The same shade was liberally spread on her companions’ eyelids. Their cheeks were dotted with it. One wore an amulet with a soul squirming inside. She placed a loving hand on it as if to remind the pink-haired one that she wouldn't be outdone by soul lip gloss.

  They had completely separated the cold reality of death from their extravagance. They used souls like water.

  "Ruling class," Laini whispered over the cover of the music. The women disappeared inside in a fit of laughter, despite nobody having made a joke. "Vapid and evil. Powerful and cruel."

  I dropped my gaze to the streets below. Immortal wildlings, stone and shaggy grass ones like I had seen before, walked through the street. An Immortal ruler with shorter hair, dressed a fraction less nicely than the women had been, carelessly dragged a fine linen sack behind him along the golden cobbles. Something in the sack kicked wildly. He ignored it.

  We hurried ahead again, stopping to rest across from a bakery, based on the scents swirling around us. I leaned forward a fraction, hidden as I was under a statue of a bulbous shrieking decay, to watch a small boy with long hair trot happily out of the entrance. He paid our group no mind, too short to see us. For a moment, he waved his treat around with delight. I caught a glimpse of glowing red eyes and fangs painted on with frosting. It was a vampire cookie. He bit into its head, severing it at the neck.

  We moved on.

  Up ahead, I occasionally caught sight of Dorian looking out to survey the scene. His extended fangs glinted as the smoke continued to change in brightness and color above us, a kind of laser show against the soul-light of the sky.

  The building beneath me trembled slightly. I stopped to stabilize myself and spotted a type of Immortal Plane creature that I’d never seen before moving down the road. His skin was metallic, resembling the palm leaves from earlier, but the color was like brass. More oddly, he had two sets of arms, one pair strong and muscled, and another pair that looked almost vestigial folded across his chest.

  As we continued along—the vampires keeping a sharp focus on any approaching auras that could be hunters—I tried to piece together a little of what I’d seen. The ruling class favored long hair and gaudy outfits, the ends of which could survive trailing only on these impossibly clean golden streets. But how did they get this obscene amount of wealth? Maybe it came from the dark energy taken from souls by harvesters. It was depressing to think humans contained enough evil to fuel these extravagant displays across a whole city.