Amelia Atwater-Rhodes - Poison Tree

Are you speaking English? Jason wondered. Maybe it was the fatigue talking. “We have some extra space in the residential building,” he said.

“Residential as in people live there, right?” Ben asked cautiously. “Not residential as in check in and lock down.”

“We don’t have any locked wards at Number Four,” Jason confirmed.

“Great, then!” Ben smiled warmly, though he turned the expression instantly on Mary.

“I’ll look you up tomorrow, babe.”

Israel poked her head out of the back room. “If you two are heading over to residential, do you mind if I walk with you? I was supposed to be out of here hours ago, and I would rather have company in this weather.”

“Don’t you need a jacket?” Ben asked Jason as he pulled on an oversized black leather jacket weighed down by whatever gadgets were in its pockets.

Jason shook his head. Despite the absence of pulse or respiration, a vampire’s body burned at just above a human’s normal body temperature regardless of the environment.

His eyes, unfortunately, could make out little through the icy sleet falling from the sky, so it was a good thing that he knew these paths blind. Israel gripped his arm, and Ben seemed to be using him to block the wind.

The pain came from nowhere, like a bolt of lightning, followed by the searing agony of lava flowing through his veins, into his heart and brain. As he fell, the sleet became needles of ice striking his skin.

He could hear the others shouting as he struggled to open his eyes. Through a red haze he saw that Israel and Ben were both on the ground, Israel dreadfully still and Ben on his knees with a hand pressed over a wound on his leg as he cussed in what sounded like six different languages.

Ben’s teeth were chattering as he coughed and said, “We need a—” He broke o , looked up, and shouted, “Alysia!” His whole body shuddered. His voice seemed to get farther and farther away as he continued to shout. “Alysia, you—” He broke o and leaned forward to retch into the snow.

Jason’s body was going numb, and his vision was starting to dim. He was only vaguely aware of Alysia hoisting his arm, shouting for Mary as she dragged them inside. The movement seemed to make things in his body stir, and the pain became brilliant once more.

In the light of the admin building atrium, he managed to open his eyes long enough to see that there was something slender and black protruding from his stomach. He wanted to cry out “No, don’t!” as he saw Alysia reach for it, but she didn’t hesitate before she ripped the weapon from his flesh.

Darkness.

He woke in a dark cel ar, body aching, veins burning. Maya had told him that she would leave him this way for as long as it took. As long as what took?

No light, no way to judge the passage of time, only the pain, which turned to madness, to fury and mindless, soul-shattering agony. Even when she came and let him drink from her veins, the pain lessened only a little .

He couldn’t remember his own name. Couldn’t remember–

“He needs blood,” someone said. “I pulled the restone from his system, but I can’t replace the power he lost.”

He hissed at the mention of restone. Nasty poison. Made by Tristes. One of the few materials that could really harm a vampire.

“Alysia, didn’t you hear me?” the voice asked. “He needs blood.”

“Yeah.” Her voice sounded hoarse, reluctant, but she leaned down and pulled him close to her throat, and that was all that mattered. His fangs sliced into her esh, and then he felt a sweet bliss as the pain finally faded.

Alysia. And that must be Lynzi. I’m stil at SingleEarth .

He pulled away with a jolt. Alysia recoiled, though he had taken barely more than she would have lost for a standard blood test.

“You need more,” Lynzi said, looking up from tending to Ben, who was mumble-singing something about … a llama? … under his breath while she worked on a gaping wound in his leg.

Jason shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said.

Alysia couldn’t know what she had just risked. Had no idea of the nightmare Jason had been reliving in the darkness of pain left by the restone in his blood. No idea that that slow torture Maya had put him through had ended with a half-dozen corpses on the oor when she had finally tossed human prey into the cellar with him.

SARIK STARED ATthe note left next to her bed: Going to check the network. Be right back . Since nding it, she had showered and dressed and was now just waiting anxiously, listening to the sound of her own pulse and the sleet battering the window.

He’s a mediator. He could have been delayed for a mil ion reasons. There is no good reason to go looking for him .

But I know something is wrong .

She was sure of that, even before the sound of her cell phone ringing made her heart leap into her throat.

“Yes?”

“Sarik, this is Lynzi. I’m calling the Table together, immediately.” Her voice was brisk but not strained. Damn Triste self-control. It was impossible for Sarik to know how bad it was by Lynzi’s tone.

On the other hand, in the eight months Sarik had been part of the mediator’s table, Lynzi had never called an emergency session. That gave her an excuse to ask, “Is everyone okay?”

Lynzi hesitated long enough that Sarik’s heart threatened to do the same. “Everyone will be. I’ll explain everything once the meeting begins—in my room. Don’t go outside.”

“I’m on my way.”

She shoved her feet into the rst pair of shoes she could nd, then grabbed a pair of hair-

sticks from the dresser top and pinned her hair up as she hurried down the hall.

Lynzi had said “everyone wil be ” all right, not “everyone is .” People were hurt, very hurt.

Lynzi’s apartment was one of the largest in the building. The living room was full of porcelain vases, crystals, and ne sculptures. Sarik did not know what any of them did, but she suspected they were more than just decorative; after all, they belonged to a thousand-

year-old witch who maintained these rooms as her ritual space.

Normally, just being in this room made Sarik feel better. Today, the air felt hot and dry; she fought the impulse to rub her arms, as if to brush away a swarm of gnats.

The sectional had been pulled apart to make distinct seats around the co ee table, but only Lynzi and Jason were sitting.

Lynzi was curled up on one of the corner seats with her knees pulled to her chest, so she looked even younger than normal. Her dark hair had come loose from the scarf she wore, and it fell around her sweet-looking face, casting shadows over her eyes. Jason was pale, with dark circles under his eyes. When Sarik ran to his side, he inched away before saying, “Sorry,” and reaching up to grasp her hand. The chill in his skin told her that he still desperately needed to feed.

“You need blood,” she said.

He shook his head sharply. “Later.”

“What happened?”

Lynzi said, “We were attacked. Just outside the admin building. Jason, Israel, and a technician named Ben were all hit with some kind of arrow—”

“Bolt,” Alysia interjected. The human stood to the side of the window, wearing worn jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved turtleneck with a vivid blotch of blood at the cuff.

“Bolt, arrow, whatever,” Sarik responded. “Who attacked you?”

“We don’t know that yet,” Alysia answered. “Judging by the angle, whoever it was must have been on the balcony of the recreation hall. Lynzi says some witches might have been able to determine identity through auras or something, but I doubt even someone with a vampire’s sight could have made out more than general shapes given the weather, and