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“You want to do this, then we need to do it right,” he explained.
I agreed.
I was also aware that the very being who inspired fear in the most savage of men was the man I was going to see.
He could end my life if he wished, and death was something I still hadn’t made peace with.
As I had told Toby, though, if I lost my life in place of helping my people, it mattered little. We were all destined to die if I failed.
My sage eyes locked with Scarlett’s shamrock ones,.“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I go where you go, in this life and the next,” she tacked on, acknowledging that this could well be a suicide mission.
“And you?” I looked at Jacinda.
“Always with you,” she signed with no hesitation.
Rolling my lips together, I shut my eyes for a second, using that small fraction of a moment to prepare myself for what may come.
Lids opening to Toby’s dark blue hues watching me closely, I held out my wrists and let him bind me like a prisoner.
Leaving Zenith behind was never something I thought I’d do, at least not in the back of a transporter rig.
As Keith had promised, heavy sacks of burlap covered our laps and were wedged behind our backs to offer comfort in place of the chilled slate pressing against us.
My eyes wandered the floor, seeing old blood and tread marks from those who had sat on the metal bench seats before us.
Maybe an hour after we’d crossed the threshold from Zenith to the open plains that lay beyond, Scarlett shifted her body in my direction.
“Do you think we will be put through selection like the others?”
I shook my head, “I wouldn’t see the point of it, but I have no idea what’s going to happen when we get off the rig.”
Looking down at the thick metal coils showing early signs of rust, I wondered how many demis had been secured in them, whisked away to an uncertain future.
If not for my station, I would never have considered this. From what I knew by the whispered words on the street brought back by Toby or Keith, and the fuzzy broadcast we often listened to, it held some weight.
The primitive depires saw my kind as little more than trophies, wanting only the best of us. It was a drastic change from being looked at like vermin
My mother was dark fae, my father one of the nine classes of demon. Their coupling produced me, a half breed, a demi.
Scarlett was much the same, only her mother was half succubus.
This meant we were dormant, the reason society looked at us so distastefully. We didn’t have any of the perks or prowess that came from being a full fledging. Sure, we were harder to kill than human cattle, but we couldn’t bear children without extreme difficulty, and we lacked in many areas they excelled.
It was almost cruel when one thought about it, the fact we could even exist. Even crueler were the babes killed off because of such a coupling. After all, what good was a powerless supe with a muddied bloodline in a world where it was all about power and prestige?
I’d been beyond fortunate to be born to the types of parents who loved me regardless. Scarlett, too. It made me all the rarer.
Never had there been a demi king or queen.
As such, if I weren’t the only child of Gideon Vasiel, I’d have simply been another being carted off.
Trying to remember the process in detail, I recalled that the healthy were kept; those not up to par were sent to Gods know where. Then, if a demi passed the health screening, everything from looks to intelligence went into determining where and with whom they would be placed.
I’d not voiced it yet, but I couldn’t help but find myself wondering if, instead of death, the same would be done to us.
I stared at the tall buildings that loomed in the distance.
The sun had completely fallen from the sky at his point, its hazy glow like darkened embers.
Our rig was halted, a gruff demand for the registration that granted transporters entrance to this twisted region given. It was now that my nerves made their first appearance in the form of twiddling fingers and sweat.
The second another guard spotted who was contained in the trailer, the entire mood shifted. Static from communicators gave way to excited voices. A declaration that the sovereign was alerted of our impending arrival saw us waved through the previously blocked entrance without incident.
Two depleted white signs were placed on either side of the thick stoned gateway. Both read in black lettering: WELCOME TO PURGATORY, and in smaller print: The Region That Never Wants You To Leave.
How welcoming, I thought bitterly.
The chilled air of Zenith having faded away miles ago, warm air was now wrapping us in a blazing vise-like grip. Not a single breeze blew to offset the sticky heat.
