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Jessica gazed down at me, her features harsh in the moonlight and her pale hair like fine straw. She was wearing a deep purple, gauzy gown that was nearly translucent under the moonlight, showing off her long limbs and slim figure. Dark satin undergarments covered her waist and chest.
“Been waiting for you,” she smirked.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“This is my room, idiot.” I glanced at the spacious, royal apartment behind her. Then back to her glowing eyes and pale skin. She moved like lightning, and gripped a long, fine rapier, like the ones I’d seen the elite use. Had Nigel already turned her? I couldn’t see any fangs.
“I’m human still,” she said, twisting her shoulders a little like she was showing off her new look. Her hair was pinned into an immaculate bun, studded with gold and diamonds that shimmered in the moonlight.
“Renitent, like you. No more unfair advantage. And now that Master Svboda is dead, maybe I’ll become the new trainer.”
“You let Nigel experiment on you?” I asked.
“Better to be enhanced in a lab, than birthed in a swamp like you,” she returned. “I was made on purpose. You were a terrible accident.”
“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” I glowered, wishing it didn’t have to be like this. But maybe it always did. I dove for my sword and barely raised it in time to block the first blow. Our advances were fierce, but awkward. Neither of us had much experience with swords, but I could tell she’d been practicing. She deflected my wide attacks, then jabbed at me with the end of her weapon, drawing blood as she pricked into my arm and stomach.
I felt for her mind, hoping to stop her like I’d done before outside of Algrave. But she punched me in the jaw, then kicked me to the edge of the platform. Before I could get up, she held a foot at my neck, pinning me down against the broken marble.
“You can’t compulse me now, bitch.”
I gripped at her leg as she slid me farther over the edge, until my head and neck were hanging down, my dark hair tickled with gravity. Far below, the rabid elite scrabbled, their dark, stained hands reaching up towards us, mouths open to catch each drop of blood.
“I don’t want to kill you,” I glared.
“It’s cute you still think you could. I always knew I was better than you. But now… you don’t know how good this feels.”
Her eyes were wild and glowing. Whatever Nigel had done to her, she could handle more elixir now than most humans. But not as much as me.
I twisted my lower body up and wrapped my legs around hers, using all my weight to yank her feet out from under her, and then scrambled up her body until we were both hanging from the ledge.
She drew a knife with one hand, slashing at my face. I caught her wrist, our faces inches apart, contorted in effort. She pushed the tip of the blade into my chest, then turned it to the side to slip past my ribcage into my heart.
But it was her left hand, and I was using my right. Maybe that’s what gave me the advantage, or maybe some difference in our genetic makeup, or the looming pressure of imminent death. She scowled as I pried her arm away carefully, turning the edge towards her own body.
“Get your dirty hands off me,” she said. “Don’t you get it? You’re food. Just like me, and nothing more.” She glanced down at the elite below, with a grim, dangerous smile. And then she let go, wrapping her arms around me with all her weight and pulling me towards her.
My fingers fumbled at the ledge with one hand, barely keeping my grip as she tried to wrench my arm away. We might survive the fall, but not before we were torn apart by the hungry elite below.
I heard whistling and then three arrows embedded in her chest from the side. Her eyes widened, and she coughed up blood with a ragged, wet breath. The elixir would heal her, but not until she removed the arrows, and her arms were currently wrapped around my waist. She climbed up me, disappearing over the ledge and giving me a chance to pull myself up. A second later, someone kicked Jessica from behind and she stumbled, tripping over me. I spun around to catch her wrist as she dangled in the sky, like a sparkling winterfest ornament.
“I won’t be saved,” she spat. “Not by you.” The dark eyeshadow around her eyes was smudged and dripping. Her lips were stained with blood.
“As you wish,” I said, wrenching my hand away. I watched her fall into the dark, writhing figures far below. They thronged around her, tearing her apart into pieces and absorbing her body.
A figure pulled me up and brushed me off. My vision blurred, and for a moment I thought it was Jazmine, with her dark curly hair spilling out under the hood of her navy cloak, and with an embroidered high collar like I’d seen in Denvato. But the faces danced in the shadows, adding decades, the smooth features wrinkling with time and age.
Salma’s dark skin and wise eyes were discerning, half-hidden by the hooded cloak. Beneath it sparkled the hilts of throwing knives, strapped across her thigh and waist. She rubbed my back carefully, checking my wounds until I could catch my breath. As the elixir burned through my body, the pain of my injuries caught up to me; a deep scorching pain that thrummed through my whole body, but mostly from the gashes that flying mutid had left across my black.
“You came,” I said, finally able to speak. “I’m glad to see you.”
“I couldn’t help you in Denvato, but we do take hospitality seriously. Jazmine’s death, that blood is on our hands. The hands of her people. That it happened on our doorstep, to one of our own chosen… it drove a deep crevice into our fragile peace; igniting decades of animosity. But we’re here now, for her. We all are.”
She nodded at the row of archers lining the ramparts.
“It’s not over,” I said.
She handed me a vial of elixir, pulling out bits of broken glass from my wounds.
