Page 43 of Vervain

“No,” she says with pursed lips, a shake of her head and a shrug of one shoulder. “We have an understanding. They feed me. Shelter me. Dress me nicely and give me the freedom to roam the city without fear. In return, I offer them my blood.”

“But if you didn’t have to do that to gain these things, would you still let them bite you?” I step closer, my grip tightening on the handle of the oil lantern while my other hand desperately clutches her arm. Her whole body stiffens at my touch, and wide, frightened eyes dart to the nightwalkers, but their attention is on the exit. “What if there were no such thing as nightwalkers?”

Drawing her focus back to me, she gives two heavy-lidded blinks before saying, “Then who would protect us from the slayers?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE UNDERCITY

Saya Claymore

“Okay, nightwalker. You have my attention,” I say as I rejoin Serun, recalling the face of the man who shot me. “Why is everyone afraid of slayers? Even that Feeder fears them.” I shake my head in disbelief. “We’ve been told they are our saviours. Sure, most of us believed slayers only exist in stories, but they were highly regarded. Our fantasy protectors.”

Serun takes my hand, though I’m unsure if it was an automatic movement or out of curiosity—testing to see if I will pull away and start spitting threats. Instead, my fingers slip between his, and those dewy red eyes draw ahead to the exit.

“I’m going to ask you a question. If you can answer it, you will understand everything,” Serun says, his eyes narrowing. “Why do they have feeding grounds on their side of the border when they could easily dismantle them?”

A simple question. No riddles or double meanings. Yet, my mind goes blank. Why do slayers allow feeding grounds topside? Why haven’t they pushed all the nightwalkers out? Serun’s Law states that any nightwalker who crosses the border risks their life.

Why was I trapped in a feeding ground for a decade?

“I don’t know…”

Serun pulls me into him as we step towards the other side of the train terminal. “It will come to you the more you get to know the Undercity.”

I grunt my response, and he chuckles. Serun’s hand squeezes mine, and his clawed thumb swipes across my knuckles. I should hate this—the way he makes me feel. But the more I am around him, the more I revel in his nightshade scent, practically drunk on him.

Suddenly, a new light hits me, and I flutter my lashes to adjust. When my sight returns, a city appears before my very wide eyes.

Moving lantern lights sporadically illuminate the Undercity as people with heartbeats roam across steel structures. Everything is stacked together in blocky cubes: buildings, ladders, bridges, and open staircases for travel between them.

A clanking rattle of metal comes from the right, and my ear flicks at the open elevator cages. After a group moves inside, the last person slides the gate across with a thunk, and it starts its ascent. Silver lights sparkle across the steel sky. They remind me of a cluster of stars; pretty, but they do little to shed any light on the Undercity.

Below, the city is supported by an intricate webbed design, with metal crossbeams, ladders, and bridges into a downward spiral. Lanterns move like spirits through a haunted house, illuminating homes, stores, and market stalls.

It’s an entirely new world. My eyes widen, and I clutch the skirt of my gown as nightwalkers slip through the shadows of the lanterns, red eyes glowing and avoiding the light as they prowl the streets. But it’s not the nightwalkers that seem strange. It’s the living with lanterns, confidently wandering the streets like I imagined people would before Mother vanished.

“Welcome to the Undercity, Saya,” Serun says.

Steam escapes from the mesh flooring nearby, condensing into a haze, sending clouds across bustling streets. Murmured conversations begin to overlap, a thousand voices in my ears, while sharp red eyes watch from the gloom: dilated, aware, and unwavering.

Serun takes me deeper into his city. The radiance of my lantern reveals three paths, and we take the middle. Deep red, brown, and black colours blend with the shimmering chrome, becoming a dusky brown in the glow of lanterns.

As we pass, signs above doors describe the different wares inside: blood, clothing, and human food. My stomach growls. I haven’t eaten very much since the feeding ground. Whenever I try, my throat constricts.

Perhaps my gut isn’t ready to digest too much, and I just need to take it easy. It has been a while since I’ve eaten more than my daily bread roll and egg.

Turning away from my thoughts, I lower the lantern, realising I don’t need it as much now, thanks to the glow from others burning the city bright. An entire community lives here, with nightwalkers in the shadows, smiles on faces I’ve never seen before.

In comparison, topside is a shambles. From Emily and Manni’s stories, the people there scavenge for food—all are desperate for shelter. Down here, the rich eat the poor.

“Why doesn’t it look like this topside?” I ask, watching two men leave a store, bags hanging off their arms and jewels shimmering across pale necklines.

“Some places do. There are settlements, and slayers have barricaded parts of towns and cities off for humans to live freely in compounds. At least, they are as comfortable as they can be surrounded by nightwalkers desperate for a feed.”

Nightwalkers recoil away when my lantern hits them. Crouching low, their fingertips graze the stone and they hiss. A warning, though submissive, as they shrink into the dark.

I draw nearer to Serun, and it eases my heart. He is far too powerful for anyone to risk an attack.