The Fugitives, A Dystopian Vampire Novel: Book Four: The Superiors Series (15 page)

“We should stop,” Draven said.

“What about Byron?”

“He’s injured, so I don’t imagine he’ll make more progress than we will. Unless he swims, he can’t cross the river for a long ways. In his condition, he may not be able to fight the current.”

“What if he does?”

“I’ll keep watch. I won’t leave you alone again.”

Again he’d known her thoughts exactly, but she said, “I wasn’t worried about that.”

“I only thought to let you know.”

They stopped in the sparse trees, and Draven set the metal boat down and climbed into it. Cali lurched over the side. Draven steadied her and drew her down onto his lap. Without asking, he lifted her hair off her shoulders and held it twisted in a knot at the back of her head while he drew from her shoulder. She didn’t fight him, even though she’d done most of the work, and if anyone deserved to eat, she did. But then he let up and whispered, “Thank you,” into her ear, his breath cold and weak.

He shifted her around, sucked in a quick breath, and set her in the bottom of the boat before raising her leg and resting it on the edge. Now that they’d stopped moving, there was nothing to think about but the pain that knifed into her with unforgiving constancy.

“Do not move,” he said before stepping from the boat. A flicker of panic tickled her stomach at the thought of him leaving, but she could hear him rustling and crashing around nearby. He came back and worked at something beside the boat while Cali sank into a haze of pain. With a suddenness that brought her wide awake again, all was quiet. She sat up, but the pain in her leg drowned out everything, so she lay back, comforted to have seen Draven beside the boat, studying something on the ground.

Soon after, a burst of light flickered beside the boat, and even the faint warmth of the first flames seemed great in the cold night. Cali’s breath plumed up from her mouth. Draven’s breath made no clouds. When he climbed into the boat and knelt at her knees, she saw that he’d stopped his breathing, and she realized the reason for the nasal quality of his voice.

He set one of her feet on each edge of the boat on either side of him. The bullet had sunk into the back of her calf, so he had to duck down to get under the leg. He pulled the sleep sack from the backpack, and Cali lay on it, grateful to be away from the cold metal and not caring if she got the bedding damp. As Draven instructed, she turned on her side and let him push up her pant leg. She’d thought the pain was bad before, but when he probed into the hole with his finger, she convulsed with pain, her whole body drawing up and fighting blindly against him.

Her foot slammed into his face, but he plucked it away and ducked the next kick. This time, two fingers wormed into the sticky warmth of her wound. It felt as if shards of ice were stabbing again and again, spreading open the hole wider than it was possible to stretch.

Her mind sank from it, the searing, immediate pain following her down. She was only semi-conscious when he drew the thing from her flesh, scalding and bloody, steaming in the cold night. Draven held her leg to his mouth and licked her wound. The relief was immense and immediate, the only relief she’d had. His cold, familiar tongue stroked her skin with a rhythmic lapping, lingering on the rim of the bullet hole, the tip flicking inside to probe softly at the edges, swirling over her spastic muscle as it trembled with tenderness.

She watched, detached, while his dark head bobbed up and down, his hair waving in the slight breeze, curling away from his face that stayed lowered, slippery tongue cleaning the open skin, his dangerous mouth now healing instead of hurting her. And still she lay, eyes glazed, when he had finished and began licking off the cylindrical rod of a bullet, about the size and shape of a finger. He licked his fingers, too, sticky with her blood, almost daintily, circling the base of each one with his tongue after drawing them from his mouth.

She sank further from consciousness, only vaguely aware that he’d zipped the mummy bag around her, and that the fire had sprung up higher, and that she was warm. She drifted, woke while Draven was repeating the procedure he’d done on her to remove a bullet from himself. The next time she woke, six bullets in total lay in the bottom of the boat with her.

CHAPTER tWENTY-Five

Draven needed sleep, so much so that he could hardly walk or stand. But they must stay ahead of Byron, who would make better time by car than they would on foot. Though he’d been gravely injured, Draven had been unable to finish him before Byron shot him. He remembered the gun well. Byron had shot him with a paralyzer gun before. He did not care to repeat the experience. This time, none of the bullets had found his head.

His wounds would heal quickly enough, especially if he found food for Cali and could draw from her. That morning, he did so, though it was not much to her liking. She was not too proud to eat something distasteful—after a few complaints that frogs and songbirds were not food—if it would keep her from starving.

“Do you feel better, my pet?” he asked when she had finished.

“Some. Thanks.”

“If we make it through spring, things will start ripening, and we’ll have more food than you can eat,” Draven said. “I will put berries on your lips each morning to wake you.”

“That would be oddball,” Cali said, scraping at the bottom of her pan.

It was difficult not to give himself away. He’d never had to hide it before, the desire for a woman. Sometimes they rejected him, yes, but nothing was forbidden in Superior matches. What passed between them was only their concern. This was different. He wanted her, and she didn’t want him, and yet he felt that he must have her, he could bear it no longer. At the same time, he knew he should never have her, could never, without harming her. If only there was a way…

But there was no way between a Superior and a sapien.

Perhaps if another war broke out… It was bound to happen one day. Young sapiens would go through an evolution, as all Superiors had, to gain their strength and enhanced senses. If Cali were still of the the prime age for fighting, she’d be changed. Then, perhaps, they could be together. If she grew to feel something in return, if she wanted him then in a way she didn’t now. She was young, would be of the age for evolution for the next ten years. There was still time.

After eating, Cali returned to the boat, where Draven examined her leg wound. “It’s healing well,” he said, nodding his approval at the job he’d done. He had been thorough, not only for her sake but for his own. He was starving, too, and it had been no odious task to lick the warm sap from her skin. He’d only wanted to draw more, knowing it was sick to want this when she was in such pain, to think of hurting her further while he healed her wound. To think of piercing her skin so near the gaping wound was savage, and yet, all he could think of as he had cleaned her. He’d had to resist the urge to push his tongue into the hole, to suck at it.

“It doesn’t feel healed,” Cali said. “It still hurts, and it itches like crazy.”

Draven knew the sensation from his own wounds. “I’d like to bring the boat along, but perhaps it’s not worth the trouble.”

“Where did you find a boat, anyway?” Cali asked. “It’s pretty convenient that we just found it lying around.”

“I walked the river looking for food, and when I found this, I hardly knew it was a boat. It was filled with leaves and dirt. We’re only lucky the bottom held, with the rust eating away at it. It’s likely half a century old.”

“How many years is that?”

“Fifty, to you humans.”

“It’s older than me?”

“Certainly. When I found it, I imagined we’d float far down the river, but I don’t imagine that’s such a good option now.”

“Probably not,” she agreed. “All those bullet holes.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to pull you across before my strength gave out. It must have been the bullets. They’re steel, so I can’t heal properly until they’re removed.”

“That must be nice for you, to heal so fast.”

“Yes, nice,” he said, frowning into the corroded boat. If she were a Superior, she’d heal as fast as he did. She’d be strong, and she could take care of herself. He wouldn’t have to carry her, bring her food, or do all the other things.

But neither of them would have food.

“Do you want to go on today?” Cali asked. “I don’t know if I can walk.”

“Your leg will heal better if we stay. Your muscle has suffered a traumatic injury. We shouldn’t stress it too much.” He took up her leg and held it to his nose and mouth, inhaling the perfume of her sap. “Cali,” he murmured against her skin. “I wish you didn’t smell so very delicious. I wish your scent was revolting. I wish you didn’t make it so hard on me, all the time.”

“I don’t mean to,” she said. “I can’t help it.”

“
Mon dieu
, I’m glad you can’t. But it’s still torture.”

“You’re confusing.”

“You confuse me,” he said, releasing her leg. “Sometimes I think you do it intentionally, to toy with me.”

“Toy with you?” Cali asked, her forehead creasing in puzzlement.

“Indeed.”

“What do I do to play with you?”

“All of it,” he said, gesturing at her body, laid out in the boat in a semi-reclining position, her feet on the bottom of the boat and her knees raised and apart, her body propped up on her elbows and her hair flowing down her back like a waterfall of tangled, burnished gold.

“I’m confused again,” she said, letting out a frustrated sigh.

He smiled and shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m wrong of course. Look at you. So innocent you don’t even know what I’m saying, what it all means.”

“I’m not so innocent,” Cali said, sitting up. “I’m the one who stabbed Byron. I’m the one who figured out how to get away from him while you stood there talking.”

“He might have killed you if I came at him. Or broken your jaws.”

“So you were just going to let him take me?”

“I’d rather you live apart from me than die because of a needless gesture.”

“Needless gesture?”

“Byron’s stronger than I. If we fought, even if you were safely out of harm’s way, he would win.”

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s not for your opinion. It’s a fact. That is why we run instead of standing to fight.”

“Well, okay. I’m sure you know. But I seem to remember you fighting while I tried to get up off the ground, and you’re the one who got me.”

“I didn’t stay to fight. I took you while he was down, and I ran.”

“But if he’s stronger, wouldn’t he have taken me and ran?”

“I was faster that time. And luckier, perhaps.”

“Well, I guess I should be happy to have two Superiors fighting over me.”

“Are you?”

“No,” she said with a shudder. “Not at all. I’d rather be able to fight for myself.”

“But you can’t, Cali. Don’t kill yourself trying. We’re fortunate Byron only threw you last night, that he didn’t break you.”

“I’m bruised, I think, is all.”

“Yes,” Draven said quietly, studying the red fingerprints still marking her face. “I wish I could keep you out of his reach.”

“But you can’t,” Cali said. “So I like to be able to defend myself. I’d rather die fighting than lying there while he sucks the life out of me, or whatever he’d do.”

“You’re more likely to meet that fate now. He’s a proud man, not quick to forgive. He’ll remember that you stabbed him, and he won’t treat you so kindly again.”

“Again?”

“Don’t think we’ve seen the last of him,” Draven said, frowning as his gaze traveled the length of the river.

“And you think he was kind to me this time?”

“Compared to what he could have done.”

CHAPTER tWENTY-six

Ordinarily, Meyer didn’t consider himself much of a voyeur. Sure, he liked vids and a few programs on the diginets, and he liked to know what was going on with all his employees, at least the important ones. Mostly he knew the surface parts of their lives, and he didn’t want that to change.

Yes, he was the only owner of Furr-Bines Industries who knew every employee by name and face. But that was just good business. He liked to know what was going on in the lives of his enemies as well, and he paid a fair price to those willing to provide him with information. But lately he’d been getting more involved. He wasn’t sure yet if this was wise, but it certainly was entertaining. Now he checked the red dot and green dot in a small box he kept in his screen’s corner. The dots had nearly intersected the night before, and he had to assume Byron had left the car and gone after Draven.

Not knowing what had happened frustrated him. He should have planted more sophisticated bugs. He had no way of knowing if they’d met, if one or both had been injured or killed or captured. But he couldn’t dwell on that. There was nothing to be done now. He’d have to wait and see if Byron’s cronies began popping up and harassing him again. Then he’d know the man lived. For now, he knew the location of Byron’s car, and the backpack, but not the people.

He did know where his other person was, though, as he’d been able to equip a willing participant with a better surveillance system. Eva had made contact with Byron’s wife, and they’d gone together to a dance club. Before watching, Meyer went home, climbed into his big soft bed in his big soft pajamas, and called for his maids. The three girls stopped in the doorway until he waved them in.

They climbed into bed with him. “Are we watching a vid?” one asked.

“Of sorts,” Meyer said, activating the wall screen. “This is a true vid. But take sleep if you’re tired.”

The dark bar scene on the screen provided the room’s only illumination. “You’re married?” Eva was asking. Byron’s wife was as lovely as she appeared in her file—perhaps more so.

“Yes,” she said. “Have been since before the evolution.”

“How strange,” Eva said. “Not in a bad way. It’s just so old-fashioned.”

“Oh, I suppose,” Marisol said, waving a hand and smiling. “Old habits, I guess. After so many years, I forget it’s possible not to be married.”

“But you’re so pretty,” Eva said, touching Marisol’s hair, letting her fingers linger.

Marisol froze, a moment’s indecision, almost vulnerability, on her face.

Meyer leaned forward.

“I bet you could have any partner you wanted,” Eva added, smiling into Marisol’s face. She was being too brash. Meyer had to stop himself from turning on her microphone and scolding her.

“I’d get tired of it in a minute,” Marisol said, an ever-so-subtle shifting of her weight taking her out of reach of Eva’s fingers. “I’m already tired of it, and my husband only left a year ago.”

“When is he coming back?”

“Oh, who knows,” Marisol said, her laugh as luscious as she was. She sipped her glass of sap. “It’s always fun, at first, to go out and not be needed at home. But after a few months, it’s all the same. The men flirt and dance and buy you drinks, and then what?”

“And then you fuck,” Eva said. “What else?”

“Yes, there is that,” Marisol said, sounding quite bored.

“What, you don’t like sex?”

“I am married.”

“Don’t you get bored? I mean, do you only get to have it with him?”

“That was the promise, when we got married.”

“And you kept it?”

Marisol paused again, deciding, judging. Then she said, “For the most part,” and both women giggled like girls.

“Has he?” Eva asked when she’d sobered.

“How should I know?” The girls set off to giggling again. Meyer didn’t see the humor, but he’d been enlightened about Byron’s marriage, and he could use that information to drive Byron mad at some point.

“I don’t think you’re missing much,” Eva said. “Men are terrible lovers. If they didn’t have to work, they’d sit around fucking their hands all day. They don’t treat us much different. We’re only what is needed for a moment of relief. What happened to desire, or longing? Maybe you’re lucky. Your husband must love you, at least.”

“That’s true,” Marisol said. “He does.”

“And the sex, lord and master, it’s awful. I’d like to be treated like a person, not a punching bag, for once.”

“I know.” Marisol began giggling again. “It really is unfortunate how bad they are. If it weren’t for us knowing what we’re doing, they’d be completely at a loss.”

“Exactly,” Eva said, rolling her eyes. “And it’s only about power power power, who has the power to dominate. Why can’t it be a shared experience? It’s only about each person on their own.” She dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned in. “Honestly, I had better sex as a sapien.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I do,” Eva said. “And it only gets worse as the years go by and people get further away from that desire for a connection. I think that’s lacking with us, our government. We’re only each about this one person.”

“Be careful, Third. That sounds close to treason.”

“Oh, no, sir,” Eva said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m glad to be who I am. I will always be young and beautiful. Men will always get a rise from me. If I hadn’t evolved, I’d be lying in the ground as a pile of dirt. I love what the government made me.”

“I do, too,” Marisol said, a smirk flickering across her full lips. “You’re as beautiful as you say.”

“I know,” Eva said, relaxing. “Men always come and talk to me. They’re just so dull. I’d rather talk to you. And I know that afterwards, you won’t pound me into the bed until I think it—or me—will break.”

“They are terribly insensitive creatures, aren’t they?”

“So bad,” Eva agreed. “They forget we’re different. Can I ask, is your husband like that? Or is he good, since he’s always been with you?”

“He’s the worst,” Marisol said. “Sometimes, I don’t know if he’s making love to me or punishing me. Have you noticed, the more power a man has, the worse he gets? Like he’s proved himself in every other way, and he thinks he can prove it in this very last way, too.”

“You’d think Thirds would be worse, because they have no power, so they’d try to show it that way. But no, Seconds are worse. You’d think they’d have enough of power and be completely passive, but they’re like jackhammers. Imagine what it would be like with a First.”

Meyer scooted down in the bed and turned off the screen. He knew they could go on about sex all day, and he was bored already.

When he woke in the evening, he made a call.

“Yes, Boss,” Eva said. “Did you see us? We’re great friends already.”

“I could see that. I think she was quite taken with you.”

“Taken where?”

He laughed. “You know. She quite likes you. And I think she’d be keen if you wanted to pursue it further.”

“We’re supposed to go out again tonight.”

“Then you’ll work on getting her to go to bed with you.”

“What?”

“I told you how this works. You hit it off. Now I’m telling you what to do next.”

“You also said you didn’t want me to seduce her.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Meyer said lightly. “You can take the cameras off in the bedroom. I don’t want to see that.”

“I hope not.”

“Then it’s done.”

“You know I don’t prefer women,” Eva said after a pause. “She knows it, too. All we talked about was men.”

“How very dull,” Meyer said. “You’re doing well, though. Go on with things, and we’ll see where we can take this.”

“I don’t know if I can please a woman. That’s not my preference.”

“Have I given you any indication that I care at all about your preference? I am your superior, and I command it. And if you do not attempt it, I will be very disappointed. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I understand. But I doubt I’ll be successful.”

“All I ask is that you try. And if you try hard enough, I’m sure you’ll get what you want. And furthermore, if I remember correctly, you didn’t please the last man you were with, either.”

“I didn’t—,” Eva began, and then cut herself off. “You’re right, Boss,” she said. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask, little Eve. You know that’s the name of the most famous temptress in the history of the human race?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well, you have big shoes to fill.”

“What shoes?”

“Never mind. You know how I enjoy old expressions. I’ve got to get some work done, and I think you do, too.”

Meyer said his goodbyes and turned off the screen. As he dressed, he mulled over his new enterprise. Though he didn’t know Byron personally, he had an idea that the man held tightly to his ideals. For certain, he would be bonkers when he found his wife had taken up with someone else. A Third, too, and a woman.

It was Meyer’s greatest desire to destroy anyone who crossed him. He’d taken down a few opponents over the years. Byron had a wife, and that made things much easier. Almost too easy. Meyer liked a good challenge. To tear a man down while staying within the Law—that was priceless. Especially if the man himself was the Law. Violence could prove quite effective as a last resort, but getting inside a man’s head, really getting to him, that was the best satisfaction a man could get.