The Renegades (The Superiors) (24 page)

Since
leaving the lake, appreciating the beauty of her surroundings, like thinking of
her old home, had been largely ignored in the face of her more immediate
concerns. Now, the reminder of it caught her unaware, and her whole body opened
to take in the blazing sky overhead, awed at the mass of stars flung across the
black. Her breath clouded the air and drifted upwards, disappearing just as she
let out the next one. Draven’s breath didn’t show up at all.

“Cali,”
he said, waiting until she dropped her eyes from the sky to look at him before
continuing. “We’re going to be in the city tomorrow…” He spoke slowly, like he only
formulated the words as he said them. “I can return you. I can leave you
somewhere safe, perhaps a Confinement. They’ll scan your code and find that
you’re missing and return you to Princeton. Would you like that?”

She
stared at her new master in disbelief. After everything. He’d given her a dream,
promised more waited outside her tiny apartment garden, told her he could give it
to her. And now this? If she went back now, Shelly would know what had happened
to Leo. And he’d never be her mate, and she’d never make him happy and he’d
never make her happy, not completely. Not how a mate should. Master would
punish her again, worse than the brand and the ankle chain, probably something
so horrible she couldn’t even imagine it. The breeders would impregnate her and
she’d birth babies, maybe lots of them, and her master would take each one from
her, and she’d feel as bad as right now or worse, because unlike Leo, they’d be
her real babies.

Despite
the disappointments, despite it all coming to nothing but coldness and
exhaustion and fear on both their parts, she still wanted the dream he’d
promised her. Maybe things hadn’t worked out as expected, but now, compared
with what she’d face if she went back, it didn’t seem so bad. Sure, she’d been
cold and hungry. But all she had to do with this Superior was feed him. Lately,
she couldn’t even do that. No wonder he didn’t want her anymore.

Before
she had time to rein them in, the tears started. Turning away, she covered her
face and cursed herself. It was all too much, losing Leo and losing the dream
of something better than she’d had, and now the worst part, losing the hope
that she’d someday find it. She couldn’t even keep Draven happy, and all he
wanted was to drink her blood.

“Why
do you weep?” he asked after a bit.

“Why?”
she asked, dropping her hands and turning to face him, tears still stinging her
cheeks. “Because I can’t do anything right. Everything that’s gone wrong this
whole time is because I’m so bloodbagging humanoid. I can’t do anything except
get in the way and slow you down. If one of us had to die, it should have been
me.” A new onslaught of tears overtook her, and she hid her face in her hands.
But when she felt Draven’s hand tugging gently at her ankle, she relented and
sank down beside him in the opening of the tent. She didn’t protest when his
arm circled her.

“You
miss Leo,” he said. “Of course.”

“Of
course I do,” she said through her hands. “Of course that’s why I’m crying. I
can’t help it if I cry when I’m upset, okay? I know, you’ve probably never
cried in your whole life, right? Well, not everyone can be so coldhearted.”

Draven
chuckled softly. Infuriated, Cali shrugged to get his arm off her shoulder, but
it stayed like she hadn’t even moved. The truth was, she felt coldhearted. Leo
had died, and all she could think about was that she’d become an unwanted nuisance.

“Technically,
I’m cold everywhere,” Draven said. “But I’m not trying to be insensitive. I’ve only
never seen you being…a woman…before.”

“I’m
always a woman,” she said, trying to hide her fresh burst of tears. “And that
doesn’t have anything to do with it. Anyone would cry when a baby died, even a
man. Just not you.”

Draven
sat quiet a minute, then started petting her back in that soothing way that
made her feel like a child. “I would cry sometimes, if I could.”

“I’m
sure you’ve never cried in your life,” she said. She knew she sounded like a
child and deserved to be treated that way, but she didn’t care.

“Before…”
he said. “But not for a long time. At times I have wished it were possible,
but…Superiors cannot.”

She
sniffed. “You can’t cry?”

“I
could cry, but as I have no tears, it would serve no purpose. It is no relief.”
He spoke softly, stroking her back the whole time. His warm, rich voice soothed
her to the point that she felt spellbound by it.

“You’re
lucky you can’t cry,” she muttered. “I wish I couldn’t.”

“You
can find release in your tears,” he continued in the same lulling tone. “And
I’m glad of it. I wanted something else for us, my
jaani
, to give you
something of worth. But as I’ve not been able to, perhaps you would be better
served by returning to Byron.”

That
set her off crying again, and she couldn’t seem to calm down. “I’m not better
off there,” she said through her tears. “I won’t be happy because Leo’s gone
and it’s all my fault. I was humanoid to make you get him, and all he did was
put us in danger and slow us down, and it wasn’t his fault, it was mine. And
now you’re tired of me and you’re sending me back and I’ll have to tell Shelly
what happened. I don’t blame you, you’d be better off without me, but I can’t
go back. Just leave me out here to die, I don’t care. I’m never going back.”

“Alright.”

“Alright?”
she said, lifting her swollen eyes to his. “Alright? You’re just going to leave
me out here to die?”

“If
you do not wish to return, I’ll keep you.” This strange look flickered across
his face, wary and almost scared, and a heavy pause fell between them as if he
were waiting for her to react. When she didn’t, he shifted away so he wasn’t
touching her and looked down at his knees. She wondered if she’d offended him
again somehow, not knowing Superior custom and making another unintentional
blunder. Or maybe he just thought she’d cry again, which made him
uncomfortable.

“Where
are we going?” she asked, wiping her cheeks on her sleeve. She couldn’t look at
him either, after her outburst, so she turned to the city instead.

“I
don’t know. You understand this? I’ve no great plan.”

“Okay.”

“I
have nothing but what you see before you, not wood to build a fire nor a warm
meal to feed you.”

“It’s
okay,” Cali said. “I can get in the sleep sack.”

Draven
nodded. “We may not survive the winter, even if we are not captured. One or
both of us may die. You should know this, as well. I’ll not promise you an
easier life than you’ve had. It will be more challenging.”

For
a minute, Cali sat thinking of the apartment that she and Shelly had always
found too cold. Now, she dreamed of its scant warmth, of having someone to curl
up with under the blankets while snow fell outside. Her chest ached with
memories of the last winter, of lying in the bed sharing the warmth of Shelly
and Leo, of running circles inside the room to warm her blood. She doubted her
blood would ever get warm again. But when she thought of going back, of the
hatred in Master’s voice when he shoved the cup into her hand and demanded her
blood, she shivered more than she did at the morning air throwing ice crystals
at her raw skin. She could still feel the sting of his hand across her cheek as
clearly as the stinging of the tears smeared across her face in the icy blast
of wind that shook the tent before curling away across the strange luminescent
landscape.

Cali
nodded. “Okay.”

“Do
not expect the niceties I offered previously. I am sorry I promised you
something…”

“You
didn’t know,” Cali said.

“I’d
not thought it through, what I was doing. I am a criminal now, a murderer. You
also understand this, yes?” Draven turned and looked at her, forcing her eyes
to his, forcing her understanding.

“I
know,” she said. “I wish I was, too. I wish I’d killed one of the trackers.
They killed Leo.”

After
a pause, he said, “You don’t wish that.”

“Yes,
I do.”

“Some
knowledge is good, but knowing you have done something so momentous as to take a
life
from someone…” He shook his head and didn’t speak, just frowned and
bowed his head until it almost touched his knees.

“I
don’t care. He took Leo’s life. I did, too. I shouldn’t have dropped him. I
haven’t done anything good for us the whole time. How can you even want me to
stay around? I’ll only get in your way.”

Draven
chuckled and lifted his head. “What do you imagine I’d eat if you weren’t
here?”

“I
don’t know,” Cali admitted. She tried not to pout, but she couldn’t help it.
“You haven’t been…I thought…you’d gotten tired of me,” she said, the tears
starting again. Every time she swept them away, they jumped right back up in
her eyes. “You hardly ever eat, and I saw you getting sick twice, I thought
maybe you didn’t like me or I made you sick now, and I know you’re mad at me.
You used to talk to me all the time and now you barely say two words to me all
day.”

“Cali,”
he said. He turned to her with a pained expression and put a hand on his chest.
“I’ve only not wished to slow or weaken you. I could never tire of you. You’re
the most delicious sap I’ve ever tasted and…sometimes when I’m most hungry, I fear
I’ll be unable to stop if I start drawing from you. I’ve only gotten sick
because I’ve been eating…other things.”

In
her surprise, she forgot all about her tears. “You can eat other things?”

“Sap
from animals, and it’s dreadful, really. I get sick from it, but I can use some
of it, and it gives me more strength than eating nothing.”

“Then
just take it from me. Please? It’s the only thing I’m good for, anyway.”

“Yes,”
he said. “You are quite good for that.” He rested his hand on her knee. “For
other things, as well. Only… at times I fear…my mind no longer functions as it
should. I forget your purpose. It’s not your fault, Cali.” He turned to her and
touched her neck, then ran his knuckle up under her chin, sending a shiver all
through her. He drew her chin up and fixed his eyes on hers, and for a moment
neither spoke. The lights of the city behind her reflected back on the surface
of his dark eyes. His breath whispered across her cheek, cold and faint, and his
gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered in a way that made her uneasy. She
leaned away from him, and his hand dropped back to her knee.

“You’re
bleeding,” he whispered.

She
turned away and busied herself with cleaning the snow from her shoes so he
couldn’t see her embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she said, “But it’s not like I can
help it.” She started to rise to go inside the tent, but Draven’s arm slid
around her, and he pulled her back down next to him.

“Come
here,” he said softly. “Don’t say that. You smell delicious, even more so than
usual. It makes me so hungry I could—”

He
jumped up without finishing his thought and practically dove into the tent. He
knelt inside, jerking his sleep sack from one of the packs and muttering under
his breath. Cali watched, wary of his anger and again not sure what she’d done.
She couldn’t help it if she had her stupid woman’s days and for some nasty
reason the smell made him hungry. He could eat if he wanted. She’d never
stopped him.

She
crawled inside the tent and reached out to put her hand on his back, but he brushed
her hand away. “What’d I do?” she asked.

He
stopped moving and took a deep breath as he ran his hand through his hair.
“Just… don’t touch me,” he said, then added quickly, “It’s not you.”

“What’s
wrong?” she whispered, trying to hold back the ache in her throat that
threatened more tears.

“Oh,
I don’t know,” he said, tossing his sleep sack onto the floor of the tent. It
unrolled like a snake in front of him.

Cali
shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “What do you mean, you don’t
know?”

“Only…something
is wrong with me. I shouldn’t—I’m not thinking clearly. Perhaps I’ve…forgotten,
and I thought of you like—a person.” His eyes had gotten all strange and
intense again, and desperate. He looked scary, like some kind of wild animal
but worse, like one that knew it was wild and shouldn’t be.

“I
am
a person,” she said. “I told you that. Why won’t you believe me?”

He
shook his head but didn’t say anything.

“I
don’t see what’s so different about us anyway, besides what we eat and that
you’re stronger,” she said.

“Because
it’s wrong,” he said, turning back to his sleep sack. “You can’t just—you’re a
different species. It’s wrong to think we’re the same.”

“I
don’t see why,” Cali said, sitting cross-legged on her sleep sack. “We’re built
the same and we talk the same. You don’t hold conversations with cats unless
you’re crazy, but you have no problem standing here talking about right and
wrong with me. And we look the same. So tell me what’s so different, because I
don’t see it, unless it’s something under a girl’s clothes. I know it’s nothing
about men, because I’ve seen plenty of men and I’ve seen you, and you look just
like a man to me, all over.”

Draven
threw the two backpacks to the edge of the tent. “Get in your bed,” he said. He
didn’t look scary now, just determined. “And don’t say those things. You do not
know what you say.”

Cali
looked at him and then at her hands. “I know what I’m saying. I’m saying you
should talk to me because I want to learn to do the things you do, and I know I
can. Even though I’m only human.”

“You
may very well mean that, but it’s not what I heard. You can’t imagine what I think
when I hear you talk like that.”

“So
tell me.”

He
slid inside his sleep sack, then leaned up on one elbow to zip the tent. After
a moment’s hesitation, Cali crawled into her sack. They lay in silence for a
few minutes. She could hear him breathing and knew he hadn’t fallen asleep yet.
“Well?” she said. “Tell me.”