Creatures of the Night Page 6

  Walking back the way we came doesn’t seem so magical. It’s a reminder of where I’ve come from, what has happened to me.

  The only thing that holds me together is the uneasiness I feel.

  The minute I let myself fall apart, I fear the creatures will pursue their attack.

  The stone castle is lit by an extravagant lamp in the foyer. Light dances on the walls, stretching high up to the ceiling. My feet patter against the stone floor as I follow Cassia, a reminder that I’m being watched, that though they try to deny it, I’m trapped here. Not that I have anywhere else to go.

  When we reach my bedroom on the second floor, Cassia turns and smiles brightly at me. “I’m really sorry about everything that’s happened,” she says. “I know this must be hard. But we really do only want to help you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I’m exhausted when I flop onto the bed, nearly missing the bolt on the window and brand-new mirror. The curtains have also been replaced. Drifting to sleep, I see remnants of the past. The rare moments Charles tucked me into bed; splashing through puddles with Darius when it rained; gossiping with Flo while we prepared food, muffling our laughter with our sleeves. I think of my parents. If what the shifters have told me is true, they couldn’t have been killed by the creatures in a raid. But the idea that they could still be out there seems impossible, terrifying, even. If they are out there, how did I end up with the hollowers?

  ~

  The following days pass in a blur of isolation and hysteria. The sun rises and sets, Cassia comes and goes with trays of food and various methods to spark conversation. Her attempts are futile.

  The village bustles below my window and at night, I dream of machetes and of parents I’ve never known breaking into the castle and saving me. But nobody comes except Cassia. No one—not Flo, not Darius, not Cynthia, not Charles—is going to save me. I don’t even know if I need to be saved.

  On the third night I sit by the window, watching the moon shift beneath the clouds, listening to the laughter wafting up from the village below. No matter how many nights pass, I never get used to the darkness—to being exposed to the moon and the potential threat that comes with it.

  The thoughts that race around in my head become less like a distant dream. My village’s betrayal sinks in deeper. I grew up believing I’d be accepted when I joined the hunts, but their plans for me were much more sinister, and in hindsight, I feel stupid, like I should’ve read into their hostile stares and snickers in the shadows. I was never one of them. But then there was Flo—the only one who made me feel as though I belonged.

  My dearest memory is a distant one. Flo and I had thrown a birthday party for Darius when he turned eight. He’d never made many friends with the younger kids, lingering around the two of us whenever he had free time. And though we invited kids his age, none of them came. I think that’s why I always had a soft spot for him—we were both outcasts.

  Darius was upset. He cried for an hour until Flo and I snuck him outside of the village to play. We played a game of creature and villager, chasing one another for hours around the perimeter that surrounded the village. We ran until we were out of breath, and Charles caught us and shouted at us for leaving the safety of the ramparts.

  I was put on gardening duty for a week as punishment, but it was one of my happiest memories. Running until we were pink faced, stomachs hurting from laughter, tickling Darius who squealed with joy when we caught him—it was euphoric.

  Was Flo thinking of my death when it was her turn to chase me around? Was she thirsting for my blood our entire friendship? Did she always know who I was? I’m torn between the heartache of losing my best friend and the realization that, maybe, she was never truly my friend at all.

  Every moment shared between us plays like a song in my head until it twists into a scream. What was her motivation for being friends with me? My village tried to kill me, my guardian tried to kill me, Darius wanted me dead, but at least none of them had pretended to love me. But Flo? Her betrayal hurts the most. It buries itself deepest and leaves invisible scars inside my chest.

  There are three knocks at the door. I don’t respond but the door is pushed open anyway. “Hey.” Cassia appears with another plate of food. “I brought you dinner.”

  The tray has a few sandwiches, an apple, and a large glass of water. My stomach rumbles, but every time I try to eat, the food comes right back up within a matter of hours. “Thanks.”

  She lingers by the bed. “You need to eat.”

  Despite me ignoring her, she moves and settles on the window seat opposite me, strands of hair escaping the knot at the nape of her neck. She puts her hand on my knee. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I draw my knees to my body. “I just want to be alone.”

  “You’ve been alone for three days. We’re all worried about you.”

  I turn away and stare back out the window. Cassia exits without saying anything, quietly shutting the door behind her.

  I know she’s right; I can’t carry on like this, and starving myself isn’t going to help. But I don’t know what to do. Gingerly picking up a slice of apple, I unfold my legs and wander toward the door.

  It looms over me, daring me to open it. When I do, it creaks the same way the doors to the tunnels used to creak at nighttime.

  Being in such a large structure with nobody else is still something I haven’t gotten used to. While the halls are narrow, the high ceilings make the space feel so empty, with arches and the occasional artwork lining the walls amid a labyrinth of rooms.

  I’ve barely left my room since being here, but from Cassia’s ramblings, I know she, Eric, and Elias are the only ones who live within the castle, with the exception of occasional visitors.

  I try to memorize my path through the halls, nibbling on my apple slice as I come to a stop in front of a half-open door.

  Orange emanates from the door and the crackling of a fire entices me inside. I peer in before shoving the door open, then exhale in awe.

  Back in my village, there were very few books. When I was young, we were read stories of the creatures, warning us of the danger that came when the moon replaced the sun. In school they were all we read. Charles always had a few books in his room that he’d never let me touch, and Cynthia kept a few in which she scribbled instructions for all her favorite recipes. But this room . . . the walls are lined with rows of books that tower right to the ceiling, lit orange by the warm glow of the crackling fire. I chew the last of my apple and run my finger along some of the spines as I enter an aisle. One book catches my eye, the spine a vibrant red. I pull it out and hold it in my arms before continuing, gathering books of vibrant colors and with interesting looking titles—some fiction, and some appearing to be history-type books with titles I struggle to read.

  I was never an avid reader—I didn’t have the chance—and I doubt I’ll understand much of what’s written here due to my lack of experience beyond children’s books. But the prospect of getting lost in different worlds while mine is falling apart is much too appealing. I stand on the tips of my toes to reach a book on a higher shelf.

  “Starving yourself isn’t going to solve your problems, you know.”

  I jump, dropping the book in my hand as I see Elias standing at the end of the row. In his hands is the book I just dropped.

  “I’m not starving myself,” I say, finding my voice.

  “Your trays of food are always left full.”

  I hold the other books tight against my chest. It’s been a few days since I’ve seen him; I’d forgotten how on edge his presence makes me. “This room is amazing,” I say. “I’ve never seen so many books.”

  “I like to read. It’s a good way to pass time.”

  “Hunting hollowers and running a village isn’t interesting enough for you?”

  He smiles. “Do you like to read?

  “I’m not so good at reading. I only needed to know one thing: creatures of the night are bad, and I should be afraid of them.”r />
  I don’t know why, but it embarrasses me to admit that I can barely read. “Have you figured anything else out? About why they waited to kill me?”

  He’s silent for a few moments. “No.”

  “And you expect me to just sit around here doing nothing while you figure it out?”

  “I expect you to do what you like. You’re the one choosing to sit around and do nothing.”

  “And what if I want to leave?” I insist.

  “You’re free to leave the castle any time you like.”

  “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “Well, I’d say no,” he says, stepping closer to hand me the book he caught.

  “Why?”

  “I told you, they’ll kill you when they find you.”

  He’s close, a mere whisper away. There’s energy between us, pulling me toward him. “And I asked why you cared.”

  “You’re important to the hollowers for some reason, we have to figure out why.”

  I know Charles waited until the moment I turned twenty to kill me even though they apparently kill every other human on sight. And it must mean something, so I understand why Elias and Cassia don’t want to let me go until they’ve figured out what.

  When I turn back around, Elias hasn’t moved. He still looms over me. “You need to stop starving yourself.”

  “I’m not.”

  “If you promise to start eating properly and stop hiding away, I’ll let you help me figure this out.”

  “Really?”

  But before he can respond, there’s a shout. Elias wraps his hand around my wrist, warm and tight. “Stay here,” he demands.

  “Don’t leave this library.”

  “Elias—”

  But he’s already gone, as if he was never there at all. The only evidence of his presence is the tingling of my wrist and the way the curtains wave in the breeze. I discard the books on the shelf before heading into the hall, my heart pounding in anticipation.

  The voices grow louder as I come to the foyer. Cries, shouts, low murmurs. I reach the top of the staircase and my breath catches.

  Crimson red. Bodies drenched, skin void of any color. Three dead bodies lie at the foot of the staircase, a man crying hysterically over them as a woman tries to pull him off the corpses.

  Cassia hovers, Eric to her side, consoling a man with his head in his hands. Elias stands among the bodies, head held high as his eyes pass over the victims.

  The door bursts open and a man stumbles in, the collar of his shirt stained red. He falls to his knees at Elias’s feet, tugging the bottom of his shirt so viciously Elias stumbles forward. “They were everywhere! They took him—they took our son,” he breaks off, choking. “They won’t stop, they won’t stop, and they’ll come back.”

  “Harrison, slow down,” Elias says. But Harrison has already succumbed to the hysteria, releasing a squeal so piercing I have to cover my ears. His body slumps over and he lets out a heart-wrenching sob.

  “They said they won’t stop coming until they get what they want.”

  The room falls silent, the soft weeping of the man in Eric’s arms the only sound. Cassia turns and looks at me.

  “What do they want?” one of the women asks. Harrison frantically scans the room until he stops and lifts his finger, pointing.

  Everyone looks at me. The room is cold but the stares are ice. My hand slips from the railing as their eyes drill into me—looks of curiosity, anger, fury.

  “They want her,” Harrison says, venom dripping from his words.

  Elias steps in front of him. “Stand down, Harrison.”

  “They killed these people because of her,” he snarls over Elias’s shoulders. A few in the crowd nod. “We should give her to them.

  Give them what they want!”

  Eric starts up the stairs toward me and wraps a hand around my wrist. “Come on.”

  I let him pull me up the staircase and back through the hall.

  He flings open a door and pushes me inside. I stumble backward, rubbing where his nails pierced my skin. The room looks like some sort of office, a deep-brown desk in the center and a small bookshelf lining the wall behind. The floor is covered in a worn, dark carpet. I hug my body. Images of the dead are printed on my eyelids—their lifeless faces, limp bodies, bloodstained clothes.

  Eric steps to the side the exact second Elias stalks in, Cassia and Harrison a beat behind. “Tell me what happened,” Elias says calmly.

  Harrison, standing next to Eric, pushes his hair from his face.

  There’s dried blood speckling his cheeks. “It was an ambush.

  They were waiting for us, like they knew we’d be passing the western route. It was barbaric. I tried to get as many bodies as I could but they took the rest.”

  “And did they say anything else?” Elias asks.

  “They said we have someone they want, and they won’t stop until they get her.” Harrison glares at me. “We rarely have visitors. It didn’t take much for me to figure out who they were talking about, and it won’t take others long either.”

  “Don’t talk about this with anybody else.” Elias straightens so he towers over Harrison, who cowers in his shadow.

  “Understood?”

  “I understand.” He nods reluctantly. It’s my turn to cower as Elias’s eyes drift to me. Harrison continues, “What do they want with her? Who are we harboring?”

  “I don’t know,” Elias muses, more to himself than anyone else.

  “What is so special about you?” Cassia chimes in. “You seem like any other human—no offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “They kept talking about immortalia sacrificium,” Harrison says. “How they’re running out of time.”

  “The sacrifice for immortality?” Cassia looks to Elias. “You don’t think . . .”

  Eric huffs, but doesn’t look at me. “No, you must’ve heard wrong, that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “None of this makes sense,” Elias says. “Harrison, did you see who was leading the attack?”

  “The same one as always. Green eyes, gray hair—”

  “Charles,” I breathe. But he wouldn’t do that to innocent children, he couldn’t—not the Charles I knew. The Charles you knew was a lie.

  “I told you,” Harrison says coldly, “she’s one of them.”

  Cassia stands in front of me. “She’s human.”

  “She lived with them her whole life. We can’t trust her,”

  Harrison replies.

  I glare at him but feel a wave of grief. The people I thought I belonged with tried to kill me and the people who don’t want me dead don’t trust me.

  “I’ll make that call, Harrison,” Elias says, looking at me curiously. “You knew their leader? Is he the one who tried to kill you?”

  “Charles is—he took me in when my parents died.”

  “You see!” Harrison says. “He was her caregiver! She was close to him!”

  “How did your parents die?” Elias asks, ignoring him.

  “I don’t know. Charles always told me the creatures killed them soon after I was born.” I don’t need to say the rest, that that must’ve simply been one lie in a web of lies Charles raised me on. To think they might still be alive just adds to the growing disorientation.

  “I see.”

  “You think they might be alive?” Eric wonders.

  “No,” Elias says bluntly, his words like a punch to the gut. “If they got her when she was a baby, her parents were already dead or they killed them. The hollowers don’t leave humans alive.”

  “Except for me?”

  His eyes meet mine. “Except for you.”

  “That’s it then?” Harrison concludes, glowering. “We’re not giving her to them?”

  “No, we’re not.”

  His face burns red and he clenches his fist. “She means nothing to us and they’re killing us because of her.”

  “We’ll tighten security and enforce a curfew,” Elias says. “I
’ve made up my mind, Harrison. We protect humans, always.”

  Though Harrison looks like he wants to argue, he keeps his mouth shut and turns to glare at me. “Please excuse me. I have seven funerals to plan.” He slams the door behind him, his last words echoing in my head. Seven people. Dead because Charles wants me.

  “Don’t listen to him, Milena,” Cassia says. “This isn’t your fault.”

  Eric scoffs. I remember his body tied to that pole, Charles impaling him as Eric roared in agony. I stood by and I watched—I didn’t even try to stop him. “Don’t lie to the girl.

  Harrison’s right, they wouldn’t be dead if it wasn’t for her.”

  She frowns. “You can be really awful, you know that?”

  “That hurts, Cassia, really, my heart is broken—”

  “That’s enough,” Elias says, silencing them both. Cassia looks down, cheeks dark, but Eric just folds his arms. “Eric, come with me. Cassia, go through the books in the library and see if you can find anything about the sacrifice.”

  “What about me?” I ask.

  “You can help me,” Cassia chirps. “There are way too many books to go through myself.”

  Elias watches me, waiting for me to object, to admit that I can’t read. But Eric’s belittling gaze is enough to deal with. I keep my mouth shut and he nods. “It’s sorted then, let me know if you find anything.”

  And he and Eric disappear through the door.

  Chapter Seven

  “They hate me.” I peer around the room, conscious of all the eyes that flit to me when I look away. Cassia dragged me out and we’re sitting at the bar in the village she showed me that first night, claiming the library made her tired. A wooden table is set against the wall and several people sit on stools there, talking in hushed tones.

  Cassia flicks through a book on the table. “They don’t hate you.”

  “When we walked in, everybody stopped talking to stare.” I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “I don’t blame them.”

  “They’re just not used to strangers. There’s no way they know about what happened this morning, or not why, anyway. Come on.” She clicks her fingers so my attention is back on the book on the table between us. “We need to focus.”