Page 42 of Vervain

That is my power, and I will wield it to ensure humans are no longer cattle, and to get my brother back.

I break away from Serun, and Olivia follows close behind. “As your servant, Lord Serun would cut my head off if I don’t come too,” she says icily.

“He won’t. You are my servant, not his, as much as I abhor the notion,” I say, my voice growing smaller with every word. “You listen to me, not him.”

“Do you want me to die?”

I smile at her incredulity. Her dramatics amuse me.

I follow the Feeder into the shop they just entered. The glow of my lantern and theirs combined catches the walls, bathing the shop in a dusky orange. There are three aisles of frosty fridges, the chill in the air covering my ankles in clouds. The male nightwalker at the register stands abruptly. He goes rigid at the sight of me, and he speaks in Daryun, but it’s nothing I can comprehend. Which reminds me… “Do you know what kamai means, Olivia?”

“No?” she says, confused, more like she is asking a question than anything else.

With a tight smile, I make my way to the back of the shop. The Feeder is with the two nightwalkers, examining a fridge lined with bulging blood bags. The hairs on my arms stand as I walk past all this chilled crimson.

I’d never seen where the blood went after the Bleeders drained us. I never really pictured how the rest of the process went. In my mind, blood bags went to the Undercity, where there would be a monstrous frenzy…not…this. In a store, echoing life before Mother left.

The nightwalkers notice me first, straightening from their stooped postures. Sickly smiles click into place, and intense, shimmering eyes burrow into my flesh. The man crouches lower, panicked eyes darting around the room, probably expecting Serun to appear.

The woman, however, keeps her tight smile. “Lady Consort, how were your travels?” she says in a strained voice.

Now I wonder if Serun has compelled everyone in the Undercity.

The Feeder woman—with a working heart and flushed cheeks—turns, slowly and moving with…flaws. Flaws I shouldn’t be noticing, but I do.

After a slow blink, digesting everything, she takes a cautious step back from me. “Is this Lord Serun’s consort?” she asks the nightwalkers.

The man grabs a blood bag from the fridge and hands it to the Feeder. His fear, or whatever his reaction was, subsides, and he straightens up enough that it doesn’t look too awkward. “Yes. Thanks to her white hair, we will all recognise her anywhere.”

Ignoring their obvious attempt to remind me that I wouldn’t be able to take two steps without being hunted down, I step towards the human, only for her to stumble away from me. “Do you like it here in the Undercity? Is this your home?” I ask her.

All three of them furrow their brows. I try to see signs of robotic speech, jaded eyes, or stiff, awkward movements. Even if her words are normal, if her eyes beg me to help her, I will.

And I will leave without looking back on the complicated feelings I have for Serun.

The hazel-eyed woman furrows her brow and says, “I don’t understand the question.”

The nightwalker woman gestures to the Feeder. “She wants to know if you were forced to be here, sweet.” Red eyes linger on the Feeder’s neck. “She worries you’re under our spell.”

“But Serun’s Law!” the man says dismissively.

The Feeder’s eyes crinkle, and she bursts out laughing. This time, I am the one who takes a step back, guardedness turning my face to stone.

“No, Lady Consort. I came here of my own free will after I entered the private room of a feeding ground,” she says.

I don’t believe her. I can’t believe someone would willingly choose to live with nightwalkers. Even I can’t accept it when it’s half of who I am.

“Why?” I say, raising the oil lantern higher, exposing the age lines on her face instead of the lies I had hoped for. “Why here and not in a settlement topside?”

She winces slightly, taking another cautious step away from me.

“Nyun puhn we aheruni,” the man says, and the Feeder nods.

The two nightwalkers step away and head down another aisle. Olivia takes a few steps back, giving us privacy. Comical, considering nightwalkers have impeccable hearing. An aisle away does nothing to ease the already uncomfortable tension in my chest.

“Aren’t you afraid for your life surrounded by nightwalkers who want to eat you?”

She cocks her head to the side, and a wave of dark hair spills down her shoulder. Bite marks dot her exposed neck. So many of them…