Chapter 38
Mira had memorized forty-seven faces before Asheron finally took the phone from her shaking hands.
"You need to stop."
"I'm on fifty-three now." I reached for the phone. He held it away, which would have been funny if my eyes weren't burning and my throat wasn't raw from screaming. "Give it back."
"You have been staring at this screen for two hours."
"Two hours and seventeen minutes." The copper wire around my wrist had left an indent in my skin. I'd been twisting it without realizing. "There are four hundred and sixty-two documented cases in these files. I need to—"
"You need to breathe."
I lunged for the phone. He caught my wrist, gentle but immovable, and the touch sent a jolt through me because the bond was there, faint but present, a thread of warmth I'd thought was gone forever when his heart stopped. When I'd felt him die.
My knees buckled.
Asheron caught me before I hit the concrete platform. We were in some abandoned subway station three levels below the city, surrounded by rusted tracks and the smell of stagnant water. I didn't remember how we got here. I remembered Severin's smile. The soldiers. Running through tunnels while the Ossuary collapsed behind us, stone grinding against stone, the vault door sealing with Konstantin's body on the wrong side.
I remembered Asheron's heart starting again.
"I felt you die," I said.
"I know."
"Your heart stopped. The bond went dark. I felt it go dark."
"I know." He lowered us both to the ground, my back against his chest, his arms around me. "I am sorry."
"Don't apologize for dying. That's—" My voice cracked. "That's actually the most ridiculous thing you've ever said."
"Then I apologize for coming back."
I twisted to look at him. His face was still healing, new skin pink and raw across his jaw where the burns had been worst. Talitha had gotten us out. I remembered that now. She'd appeared in the tunnel, grabbed us both, and moved so fast the world blurred. Then she'd vanished again, and I didn't know if she was hunting Severin or running from him or planning her next move in whatever game she was playing.
"Why did you come back?" I asked.
Asheron's expression didn't change. "I could not leave you."
"That's not an answer."
"This is truth." He touched my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. "When my heart stopped, I felt you through the bond. Your grief. Your rage. It pulled me back."
I wanted to pull away. I wanted to lean into his touch. I did neither, frozen between impulses, my photographic memory replaying every image from the vault. The girl in Prague, 1823. The boy in Cairo, 1654. The woman in London, 1901. All of them null blood carriers. All of them murdered.
"I need the phone back," I said.
"No."
"Asheron—"
"You are trying to memorize them because you believe you owe them something." His voice was quiet. "You believe if you remember their faces, their names, you can make their deaths matter."
"I can."
"You cannot bring them back."
"I know that." The wire around my wrist was cutting into my skin now. "But I can make sure people know what happened to them. I can document it. I can—"
"You can destroy yourself trying to carry their weight."
I shoved away from him, stumbling to my feet. The platform spun. I hadn't eaten since—when? Before the Ossuary. Before Konstantin died. Before I learned that Talitha had been killing humans for centuries and the Conclave had been covering it up and I was supposed to be a weapon in a war I didn't understand.
"I'm fine," I said.
"You are not."
"Give me the phone."
"No."
I could feel his concern through the bond, warm and steady and suffocating. He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. He was four thousand years old. He'd seen empires rise and fall. What were four hundred and sixty-two deaths to someone who'd lived that long?
"You don't get to feel my pain," I said.
Asheron went very still.
"You don't get to experience my grief through the bond and tell me I need to stop." My hands were shaking. "Ancient vampires like you are what the Conclave feared. You're why they started hunting null blood carriers in the first place. Because people like me can break bonds like ours, and that terrifies them."
"Yes."
"So don't—" I stopped. "What?"
"You are correct." He stood, moving with that inhuman grace that reminded me he wasn't human, had never been human, would never understand what it meant to be mortal and powerless and afraid. "The Conclave fears ancient vampires. They fear the bonds we can form. They fear what happens when those bonds are broken."
"Then why are you acting like I'm overreacting?"
"I am not." He held out the phone. "I am trying to keep you alive long enough to use this evidence."
I took the phone. The screen was still lit, frozen on image two hundred and thirty-four. A boy, maybe sixteen, with dark eyes and a crooked smile. Died in Venice, 1789. Cause of death: exsanguination. Perpetrator: unknown.
Except it wasn't unknown. The Conclave knew. They'd always known.
"I need to do something," I said.
"I know."
"I need to—"
Footsteps echoed through the tunnel. Fast. Multiple people.
Asheron moved in front of me, fangs extending. The bond flooded with his readiness to fight, to kill, to protect. I grabbed his arm.
"Wait."
The footsteps slowed. A voice called out, "Mira Thorne?"
I knew that voice. "Yuki?"
She emerged from the tunnel, flanked by two other people I didn't recognize. All three wore dark tactical gear and carried equipment cases. Yuki's hair was pulled back, her expression grim.
"We need to move fast," she said. "Severin knows you're in the city."
"How did you find us?"
"Talitha sent coordinates." Yuki set down her case and started unpacking. Laptops. Cables. Something that looked like a portable server. "She said you'd need help."
"Help with what?"
"Exposing the Conclave." Yuki looked up, and her eyes were hard. "Not all Veil Keepers support their methods. Some of us have been waiting for proof."
The equipment covered half the platform within ten minutes. Yuki's companions—a woman named Sera and a man who didn't offer his name—worked in silence, connecting cables and booting up systems. I watched, still holding my phone, still seeing the boy from Venice every time I blinked.
"What is this?" Asheron asked.
"The blood network." Yuki typed without looking up. "Every vampire is connected through their bloodlines. The Conclave uses it to track movements, monitor feeding patterns, enforce their laws."
"I know what the blood network is."
"Then you know it can be accessed." Her fingers flew across the keyboard. "And if we access it, we can broadcast to every vampire simultaneously."
My heart kicked. "Broadcast what?"
"Your evidence." Yuki finally looked at me. "Every photograph. Every file. Every name. We send it through the network, and every vampire in the world sees what the Conclave has done."
The platform seemed to tilt. "That would start a civil war."
"Yes."
"Vampires would fracture into factions. The Conclave would retaliate. Humans would be caught in the crossfire."
"Yes."
"People would die."
"People are already dying." Yuki's voice was flat. "They've been dying for eight hundred years. The only difference is now everyone will know."
I looked at Asheron. He was watching me, his expression unreadable, the bond carefully neutral. He wasn't going to tell me what to do. He was going to let me choose.
"How long would it take?" I asked.
"To upload everything?" Yuki glanced at her screen. "Fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty."
"And Severin?"
"He's searching the tunnels with a full unit. We have maybe an hour before he finds this location."
Sera spoke for the first time. "We should vote."
"No." I unlocked my phone. "This is my evidence. My choice."
"Mira—" Asheron started.
"I know what I'm doing." I didn't. I had no idea what I was doing. But I knew what happened when people stayed silent. I knew what happened when the powerful controlled information and the powerless died in the dark. "How do I send you the files?"
Yuki held out a cable. "Connect your phone."
My hands were steady as I plugged it in. The screen flickered. A progress bar appeared: UPLOADING.
"Once this starts, we can't stop it," Yuki said. "The network will distribute the files automatically. Every vampire will receive them. Every bloodline. Every faction."
"Good."
"The Conclave will know it came from you."
"Let them know."
Asheron's hand found mine. The bond pulsed with something I couldn't name—pride, maybe, or fear, or both tangled together. He squeezed once.
"This is truth," he said quietly. "You are braver than I am."
"I'm not brave. I'm angry."
"Those are not different things."
The upload bar crept forward. Five percent. Ten percent. I thought about the girl in Prague. The boy in Venice. The woman in London. Four hundred and sixty-two names I'd memorized. Four hundred and sixty-two faces I'd never forget.
"What happens after?" I asked.
"After?" Yuki's smile was sharp. "After, the world burns."
At thirty percent, the unnamed man's laptop started beeping. He swore in a language I didn't recognize.
"What is it?" Sera asked.
"Someone's trying to trace the upload." His fingers flew across the keyboard. "They're good. Really good."
"Can they stop it?"
"Not stop it. But they can find us."
Yuki looked at me. "We need to decide. Pull the plug now and run, or finish the upload and fight."
The bond thrummed with Asheron's readiness. He would fight. He would die fighting if that's what it took. I could feel his certainty, his absolute conviction that this mattered, that I mattered, that the truth was worth any cost.
"Finish it," I said.
Forty percent. Fifty percent.
"They've got our location," the man said. "Multiple units converging. ETA six minutes."
Sera pulled out a gun. "I'll hold the north tunnel."
"I will take the south." Asheron moved toward the opposite tunnel, then paused. Looked back at me. "Do not die while I am gone."
"That's actually terrible advice."
"Nevertheless."
He vanished into the darkness. I heard his footsteps fade, then stop. Waiting. Hunting.
Sixty percent.
"Tell me about the factions," I said to Yuki. "When this goes out, who will support us?"
"Support is a strong word." She was still typing, fingers never stopping. "But there are vampires who've questioned the Conclave for decades. Younger generations who don't remember why the laws were made. Ancients who think the Conclave has overstepped."
"And the ones who won't support us?"
"They'll want you dead." She said it matter-of-factly. "You're threatening eight hundred years of carefully maintained order. Some vampires will see you as a revolutionary. Others will see you as a terrorist."
"Which one am I?"
"Does it matter?"
Seventy percent.
Gunfire erupted from the north tunnel. Sera's weapon, sharp and controlled. Then answering fire, automatic weapons, too many to count. I started toward the sound, but Yuki grabbed my arm.
"Stay here. Let them do their job."
"Their job is dying for me."
"Their job is buying time." She met my eyes. "Don't waste it."
More gunfire from the south tunnel. Asheron's roar, inhuman and furious. The bond exploded with his rage, his joy in the fight, his absolute focus on keeping them away from me. I felt him move, faster than thought, felt him kill.
Eighty percent.
"How many vampires are in the network?" I asked.
"Globally? Maybe fifty thousand." Yuki's screen showed a map, red dots spreading like infection. "But the network connects to bloodlines, not individuals. One vampire receives the files, their entire bloodline gets access. We're looking at hundreds of thousands of vampires within the first hour."
"And humans?"
"What about them?"
"When vampires start fighting each other, humans will be collateral damage."
"They already are." Yuki's voice was hard. "At least now they'll know why."
Ninety percent.
The gunfire from the north tunnel stopped. Sera's weapon had gone silent. I waited for her to call out, to signal she was okay, but there was only silence and then footsteps, too many footsteps, coming closer.
"Yuki—"
"I know." She pulled out her own gun. "Get behind me."
"I'm not—"
"Get behind me."
I moved behind the equipment cases as soldiers poured onto the platform. Six of them, all armed, all wearing Conclave insignia. They fanned out, weapons trained on us.
"Step away from the computers," one of them said.
Yuki didn't move. "No."
"We will shoot you."
"You'll try."
Ninety-five percent.
More footsteps from the south tunnel. Asheron appeared, covered in blood that wasn't his, eyes blazing gold. He saw the soldiers and smiled, all fangs.
"You should run," he said.
They opened fire.
Asheron moved. One second he was across the platform, the next he was among them, moving too fast to track. I heard bones break. Screams. The wet sound of tearing flesh. Yuki fired twice, precise shots that dropped two soldiers before they could turn.
Ninety-eight percent.
A soldier broke through, heading straight for the equipment. I grabbed the nearest thing—a metal pipe from the rusted tracks—and swung. It connected with his skull. He went down hard.
Ninety-nine percent.
"Mira!" Asheron's voice, urgent. "More coming!"
I could hear them now. Dozens of footsteps. Maybe hundreds. Severin had brought an army.
The upload bar hit one hundred percent.
For a moment, nothing happened. The platform was silent except for the drip of water and the ragged breathing of the dying. Then Yuki's laptop chimed.
"It's done," she said. "The files are in the network."
"How long until—"
The screaming started.
Not on the platform. Somewhere above us. In the city. Distant at first, then closer, then everywhere. Vampires across the city receiving the files. Seeing the evidence. Understanding what the Conclave had done.
Understanding what they'd been part of.
The bond flooded with Asheron's shock. He could feel it too, the moment the network lit up, the moment every vampire in range learned the truth. I felt his bloodline react, ancient connections I didn't understand, vampires I'd never met suddenly aware of me, of what I'd done.
"We need to move," Yuki said. "Now."
But I couldn't move. I was listening to the screams, hearing the city tear itself apart, knowing I'd done this. I'd chosen this. Four hundred and sixty-two dead, and now how many more?
Asheron's hand found mine. "We go."
"I just started a war."
"Yes." He pulled me toward the tunnel. "And we must survive it."
More soldiers poured onto the platform. Yuki and her companion laid down covering fire. Asheron moved between me and the bullets, his body a shield, the bond screaming with his determination to keep me alive.
We ran.
Behind us, the screaming grew louder. Above us, the city was burning. And somewhere in the network, fifty thousand vampires were learning that everything they'd believed was a lie.