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"How?" I asked, impatient.
"We met at school. She was one of the few Sapiens to be decent to the fanged kids when we were integrated into human schools. After graduation we lost touch. I heard she met your father and got involved in the One Species movement while I went on to ... other things." She looked off into the shadows of the tunnel, as if it was a portal to the past. "Alexis didn't have blood in her veins--she had fire. "
The admiration in Agrippa's tone made my skin feel too tight.
"I heard she passed away during the battle of New York," the sister said after a few moments of tense silence. "I was sorry to hear that. Anyone ever tell you that you could be her twin?"
I swallowed hard against the unwanted rush of emotion rising in my throat and shook my head. The Troika hadn't been real interested in reminiscing about my mother.
She glanced at me sharply, like she wanted to interrogate me about my upbringing, but we'd reached the end of the corridor. "We're here." She pointed to a red door set in the dirt wall.
Red means life.
She knocked once, twice, a pause, twice more. Obviously a code. A panel slid back in the door, and two eyes peered out. "Password?" The voice sounded female, but husky enough that it might have been male.
The Chatelaine leaned forward and whispered something I couldn't hear. The door opened almost immediately.
Over the sister's shoulder, I got the impression of shadows milling around the dim space. The scent of unwashed bodies punched me in the nose.
The sister turned to me. "I must leave you here. They'll take care of you."
"What? You can't--I have no idea who these people are."
"They're friends. Members of the resistance."
"Who've you brought us, Chatelaine?" The male voice had the sharp-edged confidence of one used to being answered.
The light was so dim, I couldn't make out his face except for the outline of long hair and the stock of a shotgun jutting over his shoulder.
"This is Carmina, daughter of Alexis Sargosa." I glanced sharply at the nun. This was a fine time to finally start using my real name. "The Troika call her Meridian Six."
The man came forward into the light of the Chatelaine's torch. When his features came into view, I gasped and stumbled back into the nun. Scars webbed across his face like a mask of wax. His ruined mouth twisted into what I guessed was supposed to be a scowl. "So you're the infamous traitor?" He sniffed and jerked away like he'd smelled something foul on me. "The Troika's whore."
"Icarus." Each of the three syllables were weighed down with censure from the Chatelaine. "She's a fugitive. And she has information that could help the cause."
A female stepped forward. Her thin frame contradicted the posture of a warrior. Brown stubble sprouted from her pale scalp. A piercing yellow vampire's gaze raked over my body. "Bullshit. She's a Troika spy."
Sister Agrippa sighed. "No she isn't, Dare. Bringing her here was my idea."
"She just wants you to think that!" the female named Dare spat back.
"If the Troika wanted to use me to defeat the rebels," I shot a pointed look at her threadbare clothes, "don't you think they'd send me to infiltrate one that posed an actual threat?"
She gasped and Icarus's eyes narrowed to sharp slits. Besides me, the nun muttered a curse under her breath. I should have regretted my words, which had been motivated by anger more than logic. But didn't. It sounded a lot like Agrippa wanted me to team up with the rebels, but my only plan was to get as far from the Troika as possible. I braced myself for the return attack, hoping the Chatelaine would step in should it get out of hand. Instead, after a couple of tense seconds, the vamp's lips twitched and a snort escaped her pale lips.
"Fuck you, Traitor."
"Fuck you too, Hemo," I said using the slang humans used for vampires.
Icarus kept his eyes on me while I argued with his second in command. His gaze was assessing, weighing and judging. He found me lacking if the angry twist to his lip was any indication. I met his gaze with an unblinking glare. Finally, he spit on the dirt next to my feet. "She can stay."
The air escaped the room. Sister Agrippa looked as shocked at Dare.
"Icarus--" his vampire friend began, but he shook his head and disappeared back into the room. Over his shoulder he said, "If she steps out of line, we'll just kill her."
As he walked away, I noticed his hair was long enough to cover the back of his neck. Every human captured or born since the Troika took over was blood-typed upon birth and tattooed with their type on the back of their neck. Therefore, all humans under Troika control were required to keep their hair short or shaved completely.
My hair was short because of the regulations, but the back of my neck didn't bear the mark of my blood type. The Troika decided it would look bad on camera. Thank goodness, too, because the AB negative tattoo would be like a bull's eye to any vamp I ran into on the outside.
