AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He switched on the fluorescent lights and they flickered to life over a long, underground warehouse filled with glass cubes. I thought it was some kind of futuristic butchery at first, with hanging rows of meat, but then I realized each crystal box held a human, barely covered with straps of white fabric. Tubes of blood connected from their arms and legs, to large, refillable bottles. A glowing visor was strapped to their faces, and the room made a humming, purring noise as the blood was pumped.
“Why are you showing me this?” I asked.
“Just so you know, Emily, that every bet has a price. Don’t risk more than you can afford to lose.”
“It’s a little late for threats,” I said, cracking my knuckles.
“Not a threat, just a display. Something I’d rather share with you, than keep from you.” He turned away, toward the back wall, where a large rack of glass bottles was kept on cool shelves, that misted out blue fog. He used a printer to scan a barcode and print out a label, which he stuck on one of the bottles before tearing out the cork with his teeth.
“That’s why we’re here?” I asked, crossing my arms. “You wanted to show me your creepy collection of basement humans?”
“You are intent on destroying a functioning system, or else rescuing one on the verge of collapse, but I have yet to hear you propose alternatives. So I’m presenting my own.”
“Blood on tap?” nodded skeptically, raising an eyebrow.
“With a VR headset to induce nightmares or pleasant dreams, to infuse the desired flavor. Each month it can be something new, then we’ll change out the bottles.”
“Clever,” I said, hoping he’d pick up on the sarcasm.
“We keep them unconscious, for their own peace of mind. And we give them venom, to heal faster. They feel no real pain. We keep them alive, taking a pint a day for three years, until their debt is paid. They’re released with a fresh start and a year’s free rent, so they can get back on their feet.”
I frowned down the row of nearly-naked bodies, suspended by white straps, each stuck in time like a fly trapped in ice. Next to each display was a clear IV and a hanging bloodbag, along with a monitor.
“We don’t see it as a punishment, it’s simply the fastest way to recoup their losses, so that they may pay their debt and return to society. But it’s also a reminder, of what all this costs.”
I remembered the girls I’d seen in the citadel, just before someone had tried to wipe my mind. King Richard’s system was a lie, and the darkness was hidden. Was this gruesome display of macabre skin and bones, more honest somehow? It made my skin crawl, but I tried not to show it. Whether I admitted it or not, I needed Augustine’s help, and time was slipping away quickly. I could only hope Damien was still in transport to the citadel.
“I guess I get it,” I said. “I mean if it’s between losing years of your life to this purgatory, or a fiery death race against a bloodthirsty vampire, some would take the easy way out. Does anybody ever win?”
“You might be surprised. Although I suspect some elite lose on on purpose occasionally, so that the hope lives on.”
He seemed pleased by my casual banter, though my insides were a tight knot. Did he want to do this to the compounds? There was a good chance he was a psychopath. Whatever his intentions, the display was vaguely threatening. Augustine could kill me, right now, and add me to his collection like an exotic specimen. But somehow I didn’t feel any threat from him. I felt something else, something familiar. A kind of loneliness; a need to be understood.
“In the old days,” he continued, “they had prisons. Trust me when I tell you, this is more humane.”
“Is that where you got your tattoos?” I asked. They were faded marks on his fingers, arms and neck, that sometimes seemed like living shadows.
“That’s a story we should save for a less horrific setting,” he smirked, his eyes filled with humor.
“Thank God, you think so too?” I’d been working to hide my disgust, but my careful expression melted at Augustine’s comment.
“I’m not squeamish about it, but it’s also not a comfortable setting for personal reflections. Too clinical. Come, if you want me to get nostalgic, I’m going to need a drink.”
“A drink… of—”
“Don’t worry, Darling. I always bring my own blood.”
It was a relief to be outside again. Goosebumps prickled across my arms and neck at the cold air, and I hadn’t realized how stressed out I’d been, trapped underground with Augustine’s garden of dreaming cadavers. It reminded me too much of the king’s secret lair of skeletons. What was it about the elite, that made them build palaces above the collected remains of their victims?
I kept my eyes out for Luke or Trevor, even as we passed the tall building we were staying in, but I couldn’t see them. A few blocks down Augustine led me into a dark square building, where a doorman let us in and pressed the elevator button. The furnishings were simple, and not as garish as most of the strip, with a refined elegance.
I realized once the doors closed, that I still didn’t know where I’d agreed to go or what was expected to happen there. But now I was stuck in a metal box with him, and it’s not like I could do anything about it. Mirrors covered the walls, and I shifted my eyes, not sure where to look without meeting his gaze, as our reflections reproached us from every direction.
The smell of elixir was almost overwhelming in the tight space, and I wondered if he was feeling the same about me. He seemed to be holding his breath, until the bronze doors opened onto a rooftop garden, set with tables and white candles.
Half the seats were empty, and a row of people were standing on the balcony overlooking the strip down below. We were seated in a curved leather booth in the back, framed by white terraces holding sprawling ivy.
A young man was playing the cello on a raised stage. It reminded me a little too much of Jacob’s private dinner, in Harpoon. I was used to private chats taking place behind closed doors, and Augustine seemed to revel in doing things in the open.
