Page 93 of Vervain

This casts serious aspersions on my character, especially when so many people topside are out there suffering right now.

I am truly selfish by design.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

MILIARIA

Saya Claymore

We stop on the highway to refuel. Serun strolls into the gloom as Penumbra and Olivia stay to “keep an eye on me,” in Serun’s own words.

While we wait, I move my hands between my legs and wince as the tension pulls at my skin. There’s a slight burning and stiffness from being on a motorcycle for at least three hours, and we still have another six to travel.

“Hungry while we have stopped?” Olivia says. She opens the bag, offering me the fruit sticks Maeve mentioned. I take one, and Olivia pulls out a blood bag and sinks her teeth into it. As I stare at the blood, there is no innate urge to drink it. Maybe it was a one-off.

Penumbra claps their hands together, and as they pull them apart, smoky letters appear, asking me how I am. As I peel off the plastic wrapper, I say, “I didn’t think sitting on a motorcycle would be exhausting, but it is.”

Penumbra hangs their head, with smoky love hearts floating above their head. They certainly don’t have Serun’s personality.

Olivia tosses the empty bag off the road and pushes herself up onto the bonnet of an old car. Rust stains most of it, and once a loved vehicle is nothing more than a memory in someone else’s past.

I take a bite of the fruit stick, chew for a bit, then try to swallow, only for my throat to close. My eyes widen, and I cough, leaning forward and spitting out the piece of fruit. Olivia slides off the bonnet and says, “Are you okay?” Her hand rests on my shoulder, her ears pricked and her eyes searching as I rise and cough to clear my throat. “There might be other nightwalkers in the area…”

Penumbra looks around as well, as if my loud coughing is going to draw nightwalkers or echoes straight to us. Fuck, it might very well.

“Here,” Olivia hands me a bottle of water. “I sense nothing yet. They might be lurking in the shadows.”

I take a few swigs of water to wash down the tension, then hand the fruit stick and the water back to Olivia. “I will eat later. I’m not feeling it now.”

Serun appears a moment later with two jerry cans sloshing with liquid. He hands one to Penumbra, and as he moves around the motorcycle, his eyes remain on mine. He says nothing, though, and I wonder whether it is because Olivia is here.

Diverting my gaze from him, I survey the highway. So many cars cluster on the dark road. With only moonlight to guide me, I find it hard to see beyond the trees. There might be nightwalkers out there, too afraid to come closer because we are with Serun.

“I wonder how everyone is doing at Coven,” Olivia says. “It has been almost a year since I’ve been there.”

“You can’t see family,” Serun declares. “Your head will be on the ground if you try.”

Shifting my gaze between them, I say to Olivia, “What were they like?”

Serun’s shadows ripple, but he keeps his focus on filling the motorcycle.

“I had no family. After my immediate family died, my extended family threw me out because they didn’t want me to gain resources, so I connected with some street rats to create my own family. We usually travelled in pairs for scavenging, but we got too cocky. Most places had other street rat groups who scoured them before us, as if someone was feeding them information. So we scavenged at night, and that’s when I died.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah. Fucking good timing, right?”

“Sure…”

Olivia frowns. “I hope they’re doing okay, though. I doubt they’d remember me if they saw me—you know, pointy ears and all.”

“How does that transition happen?”

She raises her brow as she looks at me and says, “You don’t remember yours?”

My eyes widen a fraction, and I turn to Serun, but he’s no longer crouched beside the motorcycle. He stands before Olivia, pushing the jerrycan towards her. “Penumbra will teach you how to fill a tank.”

She glances between the shadow and him, nodding repeatedly before following the shadow. Once they’re on the motorcycle, Serun kicks his leg over his, raising his hand in offering. I take hold, and as I lift myself onto it, I hiss as the stinging sensation rubs up my thighs.