Shit. I’m going to be late on my first day.
I hurry to yank my shoes on. My phone still rests on the nightstand. I snatch it up, then open the door just in time to see a thin human fly past. I poke my head out and watch the young boy, wearing only a towel around his boney waist, slip into one of the other bedrooms.
“Shower’s free!” he hollers, his voice breaking mid-sentence. He can’t be more than twelve or thirteen. The door slams shut, making the walls on the entire floor tremble.
An instant later, another set of hinges groan. A harried-looking woman emerges wearing pink floral pajamas. She notices me standing there, frowns slightly, and walks by without a word before rushing to close the bathroom door behind her.
Nice to meet you, too.
Then, within my next breath, two more doors open. Nina brushes past, and I notice the reek of dust and sweat on her clothes. Working clothes. My nose wrinkles. “You missed breakfast,” is all she says.
Drew is right behind her. “I tried to wake you, but you must be a heavy sleeper,” he offers apologetically.
The confirmation that I missed a freshly-made meal makes my face fall. Despite what old human literature says, vampires eat solid food… we just don’t have to in order to keep living. As the twins reach the end of the hall, my stomach makes a sound of protest. Both humans look back at me, Nina wearing an expression of impatience and Drew looking expectant. “Aren’t you coming?” he calls, forgetting there’s no need to raise his voice. “Our shift starts in fifteen minutes.”
Oh, god. This is really happening.
“What would happen if I didn’t go?” I ask, thinking of the weepers. I’ve never fought anyone in my life. Well, aside from my siblings, and they never truly tried to harm me. This… this is life or death.
Nina snorts, as if my question is ridiculous. She’s not wrong.
“After the king personally made sure you were assigned to this sector?” Drew clarifies. He tilts his head and falls silent for a few seconds, as though he’s really considering it. “You’d probably be treated like every other deserter—they’d add your name to the bounty list. Every hunter in New Ve would be out for you.”
I’ve heard of bounty hunters, of course. In the interest of delegation, the king had decided to keep certain aspects of the humans’ judicial courts intact. Each district has its own law officials and hearing courts. If someone tries to run, a bounty hunter steps in.
I don’t really feel like being hunted today.
“I guess we’d better get going, then,” I manage, glancing down at the clothes I showed up in last night. Since I slept in them, they’re even more disheveled now. But they’ll have to last a while longer.
As we descend the stairs, the cat twining between our ankles and yowling for its breakfast, Ada’s voice drifts to me again. I hear my name. Unnerved, I follow the sound of murmured conversation into the parlor. To my surprise, Drew and Nina follow.
The boardinghouse owner stands in the middle of the room, her posture stiff and furious. She must wake up earlier than everyone else, because her blond hair is tucked back in an elegant chignon, and the scent of soap rolls off her skin. When my eyes fall on the man standing next to her, I frown and take in his almost-completely tattooed skin. He’s wearing leather pants and a v-neck shirt that shows off his smooth skin and defined muscles. Why would these two be talking about me?
“Good morning,” Ada says to all three of us. Her gaze lands on my face and lingers there—she knows I’ve fed. “I trust you slept well, Charlotte.”
Reminding myself that I broke no laws and just took what was freely offered, I clear my throat. “It’s Charlie now, actually. And yes… thank you again for your hospitality.”
Ada nods curtly, her expression inscrutable, then gestures to the black-haired man next to her. “This is Hideshi Takahashi.”
Moving so quickly that even I don’t catch it, Hideshi pulls out a piece of unbreakable plastic that serves as his identification. My eyes scan over it quickly. He’s a city employee and a kitsune.
A girl I used to drink with at the clubs was one—she’d used her nine tails to hold shots.
There’s no sign of Hideshi’s tails, sadly. He wears his human shape like a uniform, not a hair or a feature out of place. Most creatures I know prefer to live somewhere between their two forms.
“Um, hi,” I say, waving awkwardly. Sensing Ada’s rising temperature, I glance at her again, hoping for some kind of clue about this visit. Her eyes are darker than usual, her lips drawn into a tight line of displeasure. “Is everything okay?” I ask.
Nina sighs as if we’re boring her to death and leaves the room. Drew, however, lingers at my side, his posture somehow protective.
Protective towards… me?
“Go. I’ll catch up with you,” I tell him, but he acts as though I haven’t spoken and remains where he is.
“We just processed your paperwork,” the kitsune says crisply. “Normally, I don’t make house visits, but as this is a high profile case, protocol needs to be followed to the letter.”
“Paperwork?” I repeat, and Ada’s nostrils flare. When I look back at the kitsune, something clicks in my mind. Of course. The tattoos. The marks every slave wears to let everyone else know what they are. Owned. Weak. Lesser.
Horror gnaws a hole in my stomach.
The tattoo is put in two places—around the right wrist and on the left side of the neck—and at least one of them needs to be showing at all times. The wrist tattoo is a black band and the neck is the wearer’s citizen number.
Tattoos are particularly painful for vampires. Not only because of our sensitive skin, but also because the needles have to go deeper for us, in order to be permanent.
“Can you make this quick?” I force out, balling my hands into fists so no one can see how they’re shaking. “I can’t be late for my first day of work.”
I’m not even sure what happens to Lavender slaves who irritate their masters.
“It takes about sixty seconds for each mark.” Hideshi moves to a bag that’s resting on the apothecary table. He pulls out something that looks like a cross between a gun and a hairdryer. His calm gaze asks the question. Are you going to cooperate?
I swallow a lump of fear in my throat, school my features into a bland mask, and give the kitsune a brief nod. I scoot around him and lower myself onto the hard couch. Drew follows and sits next to me, our legs brushing. I turn to look at him, and he shoots me an easygoing smile, as if he’s trying to calm my nerves. I do my best to smile back.
With quick, practiced movements, Hideshi sets the tattoo gun down, pulls on some rubber gloves, and picks it back up again. Ada chooses that moment to leave the room, and her footsteps thunder in my ears as she walks past. The cat darts after her, mewling pitifully. With obvious reluctance, Drew shifts over to give the kitsune better access to me. The dark-eyed shifter sets his gun against my skin and pulls the trigger without warning or hesitation.
The pain makes my fangs slide out.
Digging into the arm of the couch, I breathe hard but refuse to make a sound. I’m not sure why, exactly. Maybe I don’t want to give my father the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me—although I doubt he’ll even hear about this. To the Travestys, I no longer exist. As the years pass, I will become nothing more than a bad memory.