Page 41 of Vervain

The doors of the carriage clank open, but I don’t dare leave. There is movement in the darkness outside, but no sound hints at what it could be.

For a time, I will have to consider this my home. A place infested with nightwalkers, and with it, I may have to accept that I am one of them.

“Nervous?” Serun steps beside me, his knuckles brushing mine.

I shake my head. “Afraid of what I will become being around monsters that look like me.”

As cautious as a rabbit in the presence of a fox, Serun’s clawed hand closes around mine. “No matter what it is you become—or if you don’t change at all—I will be here, beside you.”

Pressing my lips inwards, I say nothing. The thousands of emotions swirling in my heart are telling enough. Instead, I let his hand squeeze mine and guide me out of the carriage and into a pitch-black tunnel. My fingernails dig into Serun’s flesh at the many pairs of glowing red eyes looking at us, and the whispered conversations that cause my ears to twitch.

“Here.” Serun presses a cold metal object into my hand. An oil lantern. He lights it, casting a circle of light around me. “Your eyes will adjust to the night in time. Until then, use this to see.”

“You don’t have lights in the Undercity?”

“Why would we need lights when we can see in the dark? Only humans use them.”

Carriage doors open behind us. The flame flickers chaotically as I lift the lantern towards the sound. Olivia steps out cautiously, eyes darting left to right before settling on me. A wash of relief settles my spasming heart when she joins us.

Serun’s hand squeezes mine once, a reminder of how Cole would ground me when I was lost in thought, as we make our way down the tunnel. My breathing is loud, my footsteps even louder. I assume I’m the only one making any noise, because I can only hear myself.

We reach the stairs, and as we climb, nightwalkers come into view. One leans against the wall ahead of us, and as we pass, he crouches—submissive—with a low hiss before he bleeds back into the darkness.

Approaching a group of nightwalkers, Serun pulls me into his side. His shadows curl tenderly around me, soft, as if delicate fingers graze against my flesh. The group stops talking, glowing red eyes appraising me as if I’m a foreign specimen—a stranger in their home.

They don’t curl their lips. There is no disgust. Just…coolness as they look me up and down. Serun packed lots of clothing options for me from the closet in the Sunken City, but tonight, I’ve once again reached for white. Maybe because it’s what I have always worn. Simple white dresses, a comfort in a world so unfamiliar to me.

They, though, wear lavish clothing. The men wear ruffled jackets, long coats, and jewels on their fingers and around their necks. The women wear silk slip dresses, thigh-high boots, and long feathered scarves draped across their shoulders.

Oil sloshes in the lantern when I direct it away from the group to illuminate the steps ahead. Metal, brick, steam, and rust tickle my nostrils, suffocating my senses.

Once we reach the top, he guides us to the right. Another light is coming towards us, swaying on creaking hinges. My ears bend back at the sight of someone following two nightwalkers. They draw closer, and when they do, I see her bite marks and black, mismatched ink running up her neck and dotting across her jaw.

I try to step towards her, but Serun’s hand is iron, stubborn as he continues ahead. The glow of her lantern catches on a structure, revealing a shop, with metal sheeting covering the top and sides. Through the large front windows, a nightwalker is holding up blood in small tubes as a crowd forms around him.

“She is a Feeder, kamai,” he says, voice low enough for me to hear.

“I was a Feeder.”

“Yes. Darkovish Feeding Ground was tainted. Feeders aren’t supposed to be controlled as you were. The fact that the slayers didn’t alert me to this, bothers me.”

“They were afraid that if it wasn’t true, you would punish them.”

Serun breathes a dark laugh. “Would I now?”

“You wouldn’t have?”

“I have not punished anyone for false information before.” A cruel glint reaches his eyes. “But if that is what they believe, perhaps I will.”

This nightwalker is what Emily would call a red flag.

With a shake of my head, I say, “Regardless, nightwalkers have the power to keep a human subdued. They can paralyse them, like the one in Darkovish did to me.” I blink slowly to conceal the reminder of his disgusting hand in my hair. “How are you so sure her words are her own?”

Serun’s clawed hand slackens, and the silence around us fills with hushed conversations, making me hyperaware that we aren’t alone. Nightwalkers still watch us, curious. “Talk to her. I’ll wait.”

I can’t comprehend his expression. Shadows wrap so tightly around him that all I see is the deep darkness and red eyes. Still, I take the bait. I take it because Serun, so far, has been compliant when it comes to my demands—as far as I know.

This could all be a ploy. He might agree now and deny it later, but a strong part of me doubts that. For some unfathomable reason, he wants me. And he knows he isn’t in a position to break trust and keep me.