Chapter 249
The closer they got to the lowest level, the sicker she got. When the doors swished open on the black and red hallway, she stepped back and shook her head. "I can't do this."
"He's not going to kill you. He needs you alive and healthy to control Jorick."
"Oh thanks. That's comforting."
"Best I got." He grabbed her arm and pulled her after him. "Come on. Don't want to keep him waiting."
"Why do you put up with this? He treats you guys like you're his personal property and makes you play all of these stupid games. Why don't you all stand up?"
Verchiel stopped and turned to meet her eyes. "Would you?"
As if summoned by their thoughts, she could suddenly feel the weight of the master pressing into her skull. She tried to push it away. It was no more effective than a fly fighting a dragon. "No."
"There's your answer. Now come on."
The door of the detention center was open when they reached it. Verchiel led her inside where the guards stood in a nervous knot. One of them pointed to the door at the back. Something flickered over Verchiel's face. He nodded and motioned her to follow him to it.
Like the doors to the left and right, it led to a black hallway. Unlike those corridors, it wasn't lined with prison doors, only a single silver door at the end.
"Where are we going?"
The answer made her sicker. "To the execution chamber."
The door opened and they filed through it into a shiny black room. A piece of plexiglass separated it from what looked like a large, gray cell. Malick sat on a bench, dressed in a pair of slacks and a silk shirt of forest green. Though Migina, Beldren and Greneth were there, Jorick was noticeably absent.
Then she saw him.
He stood on the other side of the plexiglass, looming over a quivering heap. The heap moved and Katelina recognized it; it was Dahlia. Her face was bruised almost past recognition and her swollen lip was bleeding. Tears ran down her face as she stared up at Jorick pleadingly.
Malick clapped his hands and Jorick picked Dahlia up by her hair. She kicked her legs, her gray eyes panicked. Jorick's face was cold, unfeeling. Verchiel made a strange noise and hissed into Katelina's ear, "Close your eyes." She couldn't. She couldn't close her eyes. She couldn't turn her head. She couldn't look away.
She watched as Jorick's hand closed around Dahlia's throat. He pulled her head back by her hair and then, in a single smooth motion, he ripped her throat out, while snapping her head backwards hard enough to sever the spine, leaving it lolling limply by what was left of the spinal cord. Katelina had a nanosecond view of her spinal column before a spray of blood obscured it.
Her tongue wouldn't work, but she screamed silently. Jorick dropped the limp, ruined body to the floor and stiffened. He spun around and his dark eyes met Katelina's; terrified blue clashing against the black of night.
Malick released her.
The scream in her head throbbed out into the open air and she stumbled backwards into Verchiel. The other Executioners looked up sharply, but she didn't see them. All she could see was Jorick's bloody face, and angry, betrayed eyes.
She ran.
The guards leapt out of her way as she barreled through the control room and into the corridor. She didn't stop until she'd reached the elevator. The doors swished open and she bolted inside. A breeze blew her hair and she looked up to see Verchiel. He leaned casually against the wall by the button panel. "Going up?"
She turned away from him and fought her heaving stomach. She could see Dahlia behind her eyes; see the blood, see the gore and what might have been her windpipe clenched in Jorick's hand. See-
"They don't call him the Hand of Death for nothing, you know. If you're squeamish, you picked the wrong guy."
Katelina met Verchiel's steady gaze and shuddered. "I know. But I wasn't expecting it, okay? It came as a surprise."
"I did mention we were headed to the execution chamber."
His logic was infuriating and she slammed her fist into the wall. "Just shut up!"
"Whatever you say, but might I give you one piece of advice? The next time you stumble on Jorick killing someone, don't scream. He feels bad enough that you had to see, and screaming only makes it worse."
She started to ask how he knew, but stopped. Of course, he could read Jorick's mind.
"It only works under stress," Verchiel added as the elevator doors opened.
Katelina ignored the intrusion and slammed the door close button before the waiting vampires could get on. "You said he felt bad?"
"Of course he did. No guy wants to horrify his girlfriend with some grisly, gory scene. And he's super sensitive about it because he already thinks that you think he's a monster or something." Verchiel rolled his eyes. "It's all stupid, but that's how people are."
He was right. Everything was stupid.
She barricaded herself in the apartment and stared at the TV. The programs couldn't hold her interest and even the sharp scent of nail polish couldn't chase the image of Dahlia's terrified eyes from her mind. It was stupid - stupid and pointless, like all the other deaths. Rachel had died for Kale, Kale had died because of Thomas, Thomas had died because he was blamed for something Malick and Senya did. It was a crisscrossed web of sticky pointlessness that made her want to chuck it all and go home.
Home.
The word no longer conjured her old apartment or her mother, but a forlorn little house by the sea, stuffed with too many books and too little heat. It meant a set of dark, moody eyes and a familiar musky scent. It was the warmth of Jorick's arms in the evening and his cool touch in the morning. He was home, and so long as that was true, she'd have to stay tangled in the dark web of this new world.
It wasn't a comforting thought.
Jorick came back later than usual. He hesitated, just inside the door, then strode to the couch, his spine straight and his face set. After what Verchiel said, she planned to pretend nothing had happened. It was hard with his stony silence.
"How are you?" It was the best she could think of.
He looked at her for the first time since walking in the door. "How do you think I am?" When she didn't answer, he added, "How are you?"
She sat next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'm fine, now." She didn't want to talk about what she'd seen, but there didn't seem a way to avoid it. She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. It was just a shock. I didn't expect that. I thought - I don't know what I thought. It doesn't matter." She took his chin in her hand and forced him to look at her. Something shimmered in the depths of his eyes that made her chest catch. She wanted to wrap him up and bundle him away somewhere safe. If only she could.
"I said I was sorry, all right? I don't know what more you want."
"You don't understand. I don't want you to be sorry. I don't want you to need to be sorry." His voice rose, "I don't want to see you with that idiot anymore. I don't want you to be here. I don't want to be here! I don't want to play Malick's games, but I don't want to suffer the consequences for quitting! I don't want you to die the way she did!"
He jerked to his feet, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side. Katelina stood quickly and put her arms around his rigid back. "It's all right."
"No it isn't!" He ripped away from her, his eyes fire. "Do you think I don't know that he's to blame? I'd have to be blind and stupid not to have connected it! And I was! I was both blind and stupid for too long. I blamed him, but in the sulky way a child blames their parents for their misfortune, and all the time it was his fault; his punishment because I dared to want a life that wasn't death and blood from sunset to sunrise! I'm sick of it, Katelina! I was sick of it then, and I'm sick of it now! But I won't let you die for it, not the way she did." He broke off and looked away.
Katelina slipped her arms around him. He didn't fight this time. She took a deep, ragged breath and sought for words, but they were pointless, just like everything else, so she closed her eyes against it all.
