Black City (21 page)

* * *

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.

“That was a very
interesting
direction to take the scene,” Mr. Kimble says. “But perhaps next time do it with a little more . . . er . . . humor?”

Day stomps off stage, Beetle walking unsteadily after her.

“What was that all about?” Natalie whispers.

I don’t like reminding her I’m a Haze dealer, but I can’t lie either, so I tell her the truth, including the fact I’m trying to wean Beetle off the drug.

“I feel like such a jerk giving my best friend Haze,” I admit.

“You’re trying to help him,” she says.

We sit down on the rafter, our legs dangling over the edge, as we watch the play.

“Ash, why do you deal Haze?” Natalie asks.

“My dad and I need the money,” I say.

“Does he know you deal?”

I nod. “He’s terrified I’ll get arrested, but we don’t have much choice. If there were any other way for me to earn money, I’d take it, but there are no opportunities for me in this city.”

Natalie looks at the copper band around my wrist. “People like my mother have made sure of that.”

“Does it bother you that I deal Haze?” I ask, covering the wristband.

“Yes,” she admits. “But I accept you for what you are, the good and the bad, the same way you’ve accepted me, despite my family.”

I slide my hand along the rafter until our fingertips touch. It’s a small gesture, but I can’t risk holding her hand in case anyone looks up at us.

The lesson ends and the students hurry outside to play in the snow. The air is crisp and cold, and the city feels at peace for the first time in weeks. Students laugh and run around the town square, throwing snowballs at each other and hiding behind the three crosses. The snow on the crosses has turned pink as it soaks up the dried blood stained into the wood. It’s chilling watching students play beside the crosses, but that’s life in Black City. Everywhere you turn you’re reminded of death, but you have to block it out, otherwise you couldn’t carry on living.

A snowball smacks me in the face.

Beetle grins sheepishly at me. He’s clearly feeling much better. I lob a snowball at him, and he staggers back like he’s been shot. Natalie giggles. I grab some snow and toss it playfully at her.

“You’re in big trouble, Fisher,” she warns, scooping up some more snow.

We break out in a full-on snowball fight and are drenched in icy cold water within minutes, but none of us cares. Day walks out of the school, her arms laden with library books, and rolls her eyes at us. Beetle chucks a snowball at her, hitting her on the cheek with more force than I know he meant. She stumbles back into Natalie, knocking them both to the ground. Day’s library books fall everywhere while the contents of Natalie’s bag spill over the snow. Other students have stopped their own games to watch.

Beetle rushes over to help Day.

“Leave me alone!” she yells, her cheek red and raw where the snow has stung her.

“I’m sorry . . . I . . . It was a mistake,” he babbles.

She scoops up her books, glowering at me. “I bet
you
put Beetle up to this, Fisher. You’re such a bad influence on everyone.”

“Hey!” I object.

“Don’t you dare say that about Ash,” Beetle snaps.

We’ve never heard him tell Day off before, and it surprises all of us.