What Kills Me (6 page)

“Axelia,” Uther said. His voice
startled me, snapping me back to this new version of life. “It
might be better for your family not to receive that
letter.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t want them to
think that I just disappeared or that I’m lying in some
gutter…dead.”

“But Axelia,” he said in his low, calm
tone. “If they believe that you are alive, they will wait for you
to come home.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I said,
though I knew the answer.

“They will wait forever. They will
never grieve and they will never move on.”

“I don’t know which is worse. Having
them wait or having them move on.”

Uther stood behind me, his hands on my
shaking shoulders.

“My heart,” I said, crying. “It
hurts.”

“It will be all right,” he said. “I
promise. This period of mourning will pass. Of course, you will
miss your loved ones but you will never forget them. You will see.
Everything is going to be fine.”

He crouched beside me and fixed his
gaze on me, as if he was willing me to understand, as if he could
instill strength through his eyes. “Normally, people choose to be
blessed in this way. They undergo a sacred ritual to become a
vampire. I know that you didn’t have a choice. But no one asks to
be born. This is the nature of fate. It is beyond your control. You
must endure whatever comes. You must be strong.”

I scrunched up the paper and pushed it
away. My hand fell limp on the desk and the pen rolled away. He
took my hand and held it for a long time. I let him. I still felt
broken but I didn’t feel as alone. I swallowed the lump in my
throat and swiped at a tear on my cheek with the back of my wrist,
marking it with red.

“In the movies, when vampires crawl
out of graves, they are just so excited about being dead and
sucking blood,” I said. “I’m not excited.”

“The movies aren’t real,” he
said.

“Does that mean you don’t drink
blood?”

“No. We subsist on blood.”

My nose detected the faint scent of
baby powder before I heard the hardwood creek under Lettie’s
footsteps. She walked in and I frowned at the pungent, rusty smell
coming from the mug in her hand.

“I brought you something,” she
said.

She set the steaming mug down in front
of me. It had, “I Love Rome” written on it in red, white, and
green.

“Where did you get the cup?” Uther
asked.

“On the street,” she said with a
shrug. “I thought it would please her.”

“Is this blood?” I asked,
alarmed.

“Is it hot?” Uther said.

“I thought it could be like having a
warm cup of tea,” Lettie said. “Humans like tea.”

“This is not exactly…my cup of tea,” I
said.

“You need it for strength,” Uther
said.

I hooked my fingers around the handle
of the mug and peered at my disgusted reflection in the
liquid.

“I can’t do this.”

“Sure, you can.” Lettie said
encouragingly.

“I guess it could have been worse. You
could have brought me an actual person,” I muttered.

Lettie made a face. “I’m not
savage.”

“Our blood is supplied,” Uther
said.

“What does that mean?” I
asked.

“It means that we have no need to hunt
humans. We are provided for.”

“So someone else drains the people and
you get it out of a tap?”

Lettie and Uther exchanged a look.
“Not exactly,” Uther said. “But fresh blood is delivered to the
church.”

“Did you think I was out there
grabbing tourists off the street?” Lettie said.

I didn’t answer her because that was
exactly what I thought.

“Some vampires hunt for pleasure,”
said Uther, “but generally it is considered
unsophisticated.”

“Some vampires,” I said. “Some
vampires like Paolo.”

My life was over the moment I saw him
in the crowded piazza. Or rather, the moment he saw me. He had
hunted me. And the way he came to the apartment. He must have felt
like he was picking up food from a drive-thru window.

I should never have
climbed out that window. Then I wouldn’t be a walking corpse. Or I
should’ve just stayed home the night before. Then I never would
have met Paolo.

“Do you know him?” I asked.

“Yes,” Uther said.

“Does he know that this has happened
to me?”

“He doesn’t know. He ran as soon as
you fell,” Uther said.

“If I drink this, will I be strong
enough to kill him?”

Lettie grinned, showing both her top
and bottom teeth, but Uther shook his head. “Elders are always
stronger.”

“Can vampires even be
killed?”

“Oh, yes,” Lettie said. “Vampires are
physically able to kill other vampires.”

“Don’t you worry about Paolo,” Uther
said, patting me on the back. “He will be judged.”

“I’m probably as old as he is. I could
beat him up for you,” Lettie offered.

Uther grunted and wagged his index
finger at her. Suddenly he stopped, his finger pointing to the
sky.

“Uther?” Lettie said.

“Shh,” he said. “Stay here.” He darted
from the room.

“Don’t worry, Zee,” Lettie said. But
she turned away from me and fingered the collar of her shirt, so I
worried.

“What’s going on?” I
whispered.

Uther burst back through the door, his
eyes wide.

“Lettie, did you tell anyone about
Axelia?” he asked.

“What? No,” Lettie said.

“Letticia, did you tell anyone about
Axelia?” he asked again.

“I…I just mentioned it briefly to
Merrill. I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”

He looked around the room. “It’s too
late to hide her.”

“Hide me from who?” I said.

A door closed inside the church.
“They’re inside,” Lettie whispered. “What do we do,
Uther?”

He thought for a moment, glanced at
the window, and shook his head. “We can do nothing. They’ll hear us
leave.”

Heavy footsteps echoed in the hall—it
sounded like marching troops—and we all backed away from the
door.

“Neither of you speak,” Uther
said.

A chill ripped through my body as we
stared down the door. I was struck with the ridiculous thought that
it might be Sofia and the police coming to take me home. Then we
heard a pounding knock and the door quivered in its
frame.

They filed into the room, a dozen
stern-looking men in black. My nostrils filled with the scent of
leather from their kneepads, gloves, and heavy boots. A circular
gold symbol of a snake swallowing its own tail sparkled on the
upper corner of their Kevlar vests. Sheathed swords hung across
their backs, the handles braided in black cloth like those of
samurai swords. Daggers and other objects were strapped to their
belts and to holsters on their arms and thighs.

“What is the meaning of this?” Uther
demanded.

The soldiers parted and a huge man
turned sideways and ducked to enter the room.

“Cleric,” he said in a deep, rumbling
voice.

“General,” Uther said,
surprised.

“It’s been a long time,” the general
said.

“Yes,” Uther answered. “Not since
Letticia was blessed.”

The general glanced at Lettie, who had
inched in front of me; he nodded at her with his cleft chin. His
protruding brow was missing a chunk of hair where a scar cut across
his right eye. The mark was like a worm crawling under the surface
of his skin down to his cheek. His close-cropped hair was ash blond
on top and silver around his pointed ears, and his hairline formed
a V in the middle of his forehead. When he moved, his leather
jacket groaned and pulled taut around his shoulders and
arms.

“To what do we owe this honor?” Uther
asked.

“I wish we were visiting on better
terms, but the Monarchy received some disturbing news tonight,” the
general said. He sauntered around his men, who lined the room like
statues. He was a head taller than most of them.

“It seems, Cleric, that the shrine has
been breached,” he said.

He waited for a reaction. Uther
remained silent.

“We received word of a human entering
the shrine and gaining access to the Crucivium, which you were
entrusted to protect. Is this true?”

“Yes, General.”

“We understand that the human
desecrated the Crucivium with her body. We understand that she
emerged a vampire. Is this true?”

“Yes, General.”

The soldiers remained still but they
watched me with their eyes.

“Most unholy,” the general whispered.
“When did this occur?”

“Shortly after dusk,” Uther said. “It
was my mistake.”

Uther looked at me apologetically. “I
was careless and left the door to the sanctum open. I had gone to
pick up some supplies and when I returned, I heard the girl and a
vampire in the church. The girl tried to escape and she ran to the
shrine and fell into the well.”

“Was it your intention, Cleric, to
hide this from the Monarchy?”

“No, General,” he answered. “I had yet
to contact the Monarchy because I wanted to first ensure her proper
care. I also wanted to study her and gather information for a full
report to the Empress.”

The general approached Lettie and me.
He looked at me for the first time and gave me the once-over. His
dark gray eyes bore into mine and I looked down. As he towered over
me, I felt like a child who’d misbehaved. My head sank and my
shoulders rose up to my ears.

“This is the trespasser?” he
asked.

“Yes,” Uther said. “Her name is
Axelia.”

The general paused, absorbing my name.
He scowled.

“We have been ordered to bring this
abomination before the Monarchy, by order of the Empress,” he
said.

Abomination?
Stunned, I raised my head and met his
glower.

“General, could we not wait until
tomorrow evening when she has had time to rest and I have had time
to observe her?”

“Cleric, are you questioning the
Empress’s orders?”

“No, General, of course
not.”

“Tread carefully, Cleric. You too will
be judged for your failure to do your sacred duty.”

“Uther, they can’t take Zee,” Lettie
said.

The general whirled around and growled
at her; she was like a mouse who had bitten the tail of a
tiger.

“Insolence!” he hissed.

“Lettie, please,” Uther
said.

“But Uther…”

A soldier marched up to her and
grabbed her arm.

“Hey!” she cried.

“Seize the vampire!” ordered the
general. His mouth twisted into a snarl, revealing two gleaming
fangs.

Two soldiers gripped Uther by his arms
while the others converged upon us.

“No!” Lettie shouted. A soldier
grabbed her with both hands, crushing her arms to her sides and
lifting her off of the ground. “Stop!” she cried out.

Screaming, I tried to run but they
were on me in an instant, grabbing my arms, wrenching me away from
Lettie. I kicked at the desk and the mug fell, exploding on the
floor, splashing blood on my legs. They pulled me from the room
like a rag doll.

“Uther!” I cried.

“General, this is unnecessary…” Uther
said.

I heard his voice grow fainter and
fainter as they dragged me through the dark halls, my heels sliding
all over the hardwood and then across the cold, marble church
floors. Overhead, paintings of saints witnessed my
abduction.

Outside, an engine started as the
soldiers pushed open the heavy front doors. The night air rushed me
and chilled my bare, wet legs. A cube truck was parked in the
courtyard, and they tossed me into the cargo area. I landed on my
shoulder blade and did a backward somersault, hitting my head on
the back of the truck.

“Ow!”

The general walked out of the church
and crossed his arms. We stared at each other for a moment and then
he turned his head and spat on the ground.

“Lock the door,” he said, and they
shut me in the dark.

***

The street’s symphony blared outside
the truck. Over the drone of the engine, I could hear the Vespas
zipping around the vehicle like flies. And voices. Music from a
radio. A dog barking. A passing bus. Footsteps, the snap of sandals
against soles. The truck grumbled to a crawl and spluttered and
coughed before starting again. I could smell exhaust, French fries
as we rounded a corner, coffee at another turn. And then for a long
while, there was nothing but the wind assaulting the sides of the
truck and the smell of gas.