sunfall (18 page)

Read sunfall Online

Authors: Nell Stark

BOOK: sunfall
8.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I could tell the moment she caught sight of me, because her body went still and her eyes widened ever so slightly. In the next moment, she adopted a look of nonchalance, but that single instant gave me a burst of confidence. I’d chosen my silver Under Armour shirt because it highlighted the muscles in my arms and abs while leaving no doubt that I was a woman. Apparently, she approved.

“Good morning,” I called as I approached her.

“Hi. Glad you made it.”

“Wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” I grabbed the fence a few feet away and began stretching out my calves. “I can’t believe how warm it is.”

“I know. Crazy. So, how late was your night?”

“The tourists were still out in full force. Didn’t make it home until three.”

“And here I made you get up early.”

“No place I’d rather be.” I switched to stretching out my hamstrings. “Besides, I’m bad at sleeping in.”

“Why is that?”

I rose slowly out of the stretch, looking up to meet her questioning gaze.

“I don’t know, exactly. Guess I’m not that good at relaxing, in general. There’s…there’s just a lot to do.”

Leaning back down, I mentally cursed myself for my vague and ineloquent answer. Now she probably thought I was some kind of hyperactive idiot who could never sit still. But then I felt her touch on my shoulder.

“I know what you mean.”

Drawing myself up to my full height, I raised my arms above my head to loosen the taut muscles in my shoulders. She was looking at me thoughtfully, and I wondered if she really meant what she’d said. The restlessness that burned at the core of me wasn’t something I had discussed very much with past girlfriends. They’d thought I had it all—the last name, the access to money, the connections. I had never known how to tell them that I didn’t really care about those things. That I was driven to make my own mark on the world. Was Alexa someone who might empathize? Would she be—could she be—someone in whom I’d truly be able to confide?

When color bloomed in her cheeks and she suddenly looked away, I wondered what she’d been thinking.

“Ready?” she asked, gesturing toward the open gate.

“Whenever you are.”

She walked out onto the asphalt and broke into a jog. I fell into step with her, welcoming the warm air into my lungs. Had it not been for the utter bareness of the trees, this could have passed for a morning in early April.

After descending a shallow slope, our road merged with the long loop inside the park. Alexa hadn’t told me how far she wanted to run, and I wasn’t about to ask her. I just hoped I could keep up.

“Let me know if you need to slow down at any point,” she said.

“I’ll be fine.” Glancing sideways, I grinned at the challenge in her eyes. “Set any pace you like.”

Immediately, she sped up, and I lengthened my stride to match. As we rounded a curve and headed uphill, we found ourselves passing many of the other runners. Currently, I did most of my running on a flat treadmill, and my calves protested the incline, but I ignored them and concentrated on taking deep, even breaths. When we reached the top of the hill, I realized we were breathing in synchrony. Suddenly exhilarated, I turned my head to watch her move. Ponytail bouncing against her shoulders, arms pumping steadily at her sides, face flushed and glistening, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. And what I loved most of all was that she was allowing me to see the real “her,” not just the version in a little black dress. I had invited her to dinner with the intent to impress. She had invited me on a run with the intent to show me her true colors.

Our eyes met, and I stumbled slightly. She reached for my arm, fingertips lingering even after I’d regained my balance.

“What?”

She had showed no pretense, so I didn’t either. “You’re beautiful.”

Laughing, she pulled her hand away and picked up speed. “I think we need to go even faster.”

We ran for over an hour—through the park and then down along the West Side Highway—before Alexa slowed to a walk. After we’d stretched out, she led me to a small, nondescript diner in the West Village. She claimed it served the best Oreo milkshakes, so I ordered one along with a massive breakfast burrito topped with avocados. Technically, I’d probably had a better brunch or two, but in that moment nothing could compare.

For over an hour we sat across from each other at a table next to the window. Alexa insisted on paying. She also insisted on talking politics. When I balked, she took my hand and entwined our fingers. My heart began to race far faster than it had even on the steepest climbs of our run.

“Look, Val,” she said, rubbing her thumb very gently across my knuckles. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable or dig up dirt about your family. I don’t really care about them at the moment. But I’m starting to care about you, and I want to know what you think about…this.” She waved her hand in the air. “Life. New York. The country. The world.”

Stuck on her soft touch and the part about her starting to care about me, I quickly mustered my wits.

“Okay. I’m sorry if I seemed defensive. I guess I’m just not used to that.”

“You’re not used to other people caring what you think?” She sounded incredulous. When I shrugged, her eyes narrowed. “What about past girlfriends?”

“You might find this hard to believe,” I said quietly, “but it’s been a long time since I pursued someone. Women tend to want me for my last name and my family’s money, not for my intellect.”

Alexa arched an eyebrow and squeezed my fingers. “Not this woman. Now. You’re studying to become a doctor, so you must have some thoughts about the health care crisis. Let’s hear them.”

Eventually, we had to give up the table, but when I offered to walk her home, she agreed. She shared an apartment in SoHo with several friends, and this time I was the one to join our hands as we began to walk. We took our time navigating the spidery streets of the Village, both of us apparently unwilling to end the conversation. She was passionate and well spoken—a true believer in social justice—and I was starting to think that her political views leaned even more heavily toward the left than did mine.

“So,” I said as I steered her around a sidewalk puddle, “how does someone who just identified as ‘practically a democratic socialist’ decide to study corporate law?”

She smiled. “Sometimes the best way to change something is from the inside, isn’t it? I think I’ll be better able to accomplish my goals if I have an intimate knowledge of all the gears and cogs inside the behemoth.”

“You don’t think you’ll be tempted to turn to the Dark Side?”

“Well, probably at some point. I just have to trust that I’m strong enough.” Her eyes met mine, appraising. “Is that why you didn’t follow in your father’s footsteps? Temptation?”

It felt like she was staring right into my soul, and I had to stop myself from looking away. Her insight made perfect sense. How did she see so much?

“Maybe. Probably. I’ve never thought about it that way before.”

She pulled me under the awning of a flower shop and reached up to twine her arms around my neck. Her fingertips stroked my hair as she eliminated the space between our bodies, bringing her chest flush with mine. My head spun as I let my palms come to rest on her hips. She felt incredible in my arms, and it was so hard to resist the impulse to dip my head and kiss her.

“Do you know what I think, Valentine?”

“What’s that?” I breathed, lost in the patterns made by the various shades of green swirling in her eyes.

“I think you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

And then she raised herself onto her toes and kissed me.

 

*

 

As the memory faded, I opened my eyes. The contours of the ceiling were a little crisper now, and I realized that my vision was beginning to sharpen. Had my subconscious chosen that memory for a reason? Was Alexa speaking to me even now, reminding me of my inner fortitude, inspiring me from deep inside my own psyche?

Returning back into myself, I plumbed the depths of my brain. The first time we’d made love. The first meal we’d cooked together. Staying up all night watching B-rated horror movies. Studying for final exams together on the top floor of the library. Over and over and over I traced the memories with my mind, recalling the sights, the sounds, the scents. They had happened. She was real. I was real, and I would find a way to return to her.

The door opened. Rough hands squeezed my left bicep and jammed a needle into my arm. Liquid fire streamed into my vein, then spread. My heart pounded against my ribs. Flames trailed down my abdomen, into my legs. My skin was burning. Thousands of tiny pins and needles pierced every muscle, igniting my synapses. A moan escaped before I could clench my jaw to contain it. Every cell was an agony of flame, and in that moment my mother’s words came back to me.
Unless you repent, Valentine, your soul will burn in flames for eternity.

Someone was screaming. The pain grew exponentially. Blood filled my mouth.

And then finally, darkness.

 

*

 

I woke to the foreign sensation of softness beneath my cheek. Having learned my lesson, I took stock of my surroundings before I dared even to open my eyes. The light beyond my eyelids seemed softer than it had before, though the air still smelled of metal and antiseptic. I was curled on my right side on what felt like a mattress, and I was no longer naked. Every muscle in my body ached, my left leg throbbed in time with the pulse beating in my temples, and my throat was parched.

Questions flooded into the forefront of my consciousness. Had Brenner’s men injected me with the modified parasite? Was I a cannibal? How would I know? What were Brenner’s plans now? Had he turned Tian as well? How was I going to find my way back to Alexa? Was she even alive?

My heart thundered in my chest, and I opened my eyes to distract myself from the panic. I lay on a narrow cot in a rectangular, windowless room. Several feet away, another cot stood unoccupied, though its blankets were mussed. I sat up slowly, wincing as my muscles protested even the tiniest movement. Someone had dressed me in a pale blue pair of scrubs. I felt like I’d been hit by a bus. How much of the soreness was due to having been strapped to a table for eons, and how much had to do with the injection I’d received, I couldn’t tell.

My thirst was strong, but it didn’t feel qualitatively different from what I had experienced before. Aside from the soreness, I felt remarkably normal. When would the new parasite make itself known? If I were in the presence of a vampire, would my bloodlust take over? Cradling my head in my hands, I stared at the floor and willed myself to stay calm.

“Now that you’re awake, the show can begin.” Brenner’s disembodied voice filled the room. Before I could control myself, I had jumped to my feet, adrenaline propelling my aching body into motion. I scanned the room, head pounding, but I couldn’t pinpoint the camera.

Brenner’s laughter at my reaction was overshadowed by the whir of electronics as part of the far wall retracted to reveal a pane of glass looking out on an examination room. Aside from the stainless steel table that was bolted into the center of the floor, the room was empty. This place, or something like it, was surely where I had been kept. Bile rose into my throat, but I forced it back. I would not give Brenner the satisfaction of seeing me choke on my own fear.

The door to the examination room opened and a man was shoved inside. His dark hair was greasy, his clothing unkempt. He stared at his surroundings with wide, suspicious eyes. Letting his fingers trail along the wall, he traced the circumference of the room.

“My soldiers caught this piece of filth draining the blood from a teenage girl in an alleyway behind a cinema. She survived, thankfully. He won’t be so fortunate.”

Again, the door opened. This time I recognized the person who staggered inside. Tian. She looked to be on the edge of sanity; sweat dampened her hairline and her fingertips were ragged and bleeding. Red furrows marred her arms below sleeves identical to mine. She had been self-mutilating.

“We infected her two days before you. She has degenerated quite rapidly, as you can see.”

When Tian caught sight of the vampire, she snapped to attention. The man was looking at her curiously. I saw his lips move, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she began to stalk him, moving quickly around the table. Alarmed by her predatory attitude, he backed away. She toyed with him for a while, gliding from side to side, forcing him to mirror her movements. A cat playing with a mouse.

I knew the minute she grew tired of the game. Her eyes narrowed, her body tensed, and in a blur of motion she leapt across the table to pin him against the wall. He was twice her size and likely three times her weight, but her grip was iron. Under the influence of a blood high, I too had incredible strength and speed. But they paled in comparison to the abilities Tian now possessed.

When her teeth struck his neck, blood spattered the whiteness of the ceiling and ran down the wall to pool on the floor. I watched him scream but heard only the sound of my own ragged breaths. Tian feasted viciously, heedless of the hands that scrabbled against her head in an effort to push her away.

My own throat burned in empathy as I watched her drain him dry, but I couldn’t tell whether the mere sight of Tian drinking had further whetted my appetite, or whether I was craving her victim’s vampire blood. When he slumped into unconsciousness, she kept his deadweight pinned to the wall. She drank until his body had nothing left to offer, then pried herself away and crouched, shivering, next to the corpse. Clutching her own knees, rocking back and forth, she seemed vulnerable despite what she had just done. Never had I seen a vampire take so much blood at once.

Other books

The Daylight Gate by Jeanette Winterson
Menudas historias de la Historia by Nieves Concostrina
Camouflage by Bindi Irwin
Chosen by V. Vaughn, Mating Season Collection
Dead is the New Black by Christine DeMaio-Rice
Disarranged by Wolf, Sara
Man Tiger by Eka Kurniawan