Blood Bond, page 2
“Greens, got it.” Matra reached, took the bin of mixed, deep green lettuce from the counter, and handed it to her mother.
To Pamela.
“You’re distracted today,” Pamela remarked as she pulled the lid open with a staccato snap!
“Just tired I guess,” Matra replied. She’d come inside with Alix just twenty minutes ago, but sometimes it took hours for her brain to fully come back online after a double shift in front of the screens.
“I hear Audil and Greg are making a lot of progress in the tunnels.”
Matra nodded. “Good. I heard Leif is helping too.”
“That’s right, Greg told me that.”
A beat of awkward silence.
“You ought to let Audil take you on a tour,” said Pamela. “It would be smart to be familiar with the space, but more than that, you should show interest in what Audil is working on.”
Matra had to fight to keep her expression from turning into a sneer, though she supposed part of Pamela’s suggestion had merit. It would be smart for her know more about the tunnels in the event they ever found themselves living under the city.
“That drone in the neighborhood today was concerning,” Pamela went on. “I figure that’s why you’re so distracted.”
“Oh, yeah, it was,” Matra replied. It’s not what had her distracted, though. In fact, she hadn’t given it much thought since coming back inside. She and Alix had waited until the thing appeared to be facing away, then made a run for the house.
It had all been very uneventful in the end.
But letting Pamela believe the aftereffects of the excitement were the cause of her distraction was smart, so she went along with it.
“It was certainly a bit of a shock to hear about during the evening parents’ meeting,” Pamela went on. She shook her head, pausing after taking a carrot in one hand and a knife in the other. “If something had happened to you...”
Matra felt her eyes go wide but kept herself busy gathering an apple, a cutting board, and a knife as Pamela continued.
“If you’d been seen, imagine the implications to the family.” She shook her head and went to cutting the carrot. “It’s too much to think about.”
Matra’s moment of surprise deflated like a once-overfilled balloon. Her mother never used language that could even be misinterpreted as loving or showing preferential treatment toward her. So why Matra had thought this conversation would have broken with that tradition, she didn’t know. That didn’t mean the sting of knowing you were nothing more than a parent-detached adult to the woman who had birthed you—who you could remember having loved you when you were very young—didn’t register.
No, that revelation stung like a bitch every time she had it.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Matra tried to keep her expression pleasant as she sat at the dinner table while the others filtered in and found their seats.
“Hey, I heard you pulled my shift today.”
She turned to see Audil taking his place at the table beside her. “Yeah. It was nothing.”
He gave her thigh a squeeze as he settled in. “That had to make for a long day of it. You hold up okay?”
She swallowed. They were surrounded by the rest of the family so there was no way to remove his hand without drawing attention. “Just fine, thanks.”
Callee and Alix were in love. They’d been together for years and nobody knew except Matra, because having a relationship with one of your siblings was considered treason to the family. No matter that almost none of them were related by blood. Vega had her by-blood-sister, Exa, and Nev had a genetically-related older brother, Leif, but other than that there were no shared chromosomes between any of them. Still, Callee and Alix loved each other in secret, while Audil and Matra were expected to love one another by default. It was so expected that nobody questioned it. So common-knowledge that Audil could leave his hand on her thigh and Matra had no recourse to tell him to back-off.
He was the genetic son of one of the founding couples of their group and she was the daughter of the other.
One plus one equals two.
“We have Pamela and Matra to thank for this evening’s family meal.”
Matra gave a smile and a nod, just like she was supposed to, when eighteen sets of eyes swung her way and Audil’s hand returned to his lap.
“But before we dive in,” Marx, head of the family and Audil’s biological father, went on, “there is a matter we need to discuss as a family.”
All hands went into their owners’ laps. All eyes turned to Marx who was sitting in the middle of the long table, with Audil on his left and his primary mate Tina, Audil’s biological mother, on his right.
“Many of you know that a drone was spotted in the neighborhood this afternoon.”
The general murmur around the table said that not everyone had been aware of it. Most of the adults, however, looked grimly up-to-date.
“As a result,” Marx went on, “we are suspending all outdoor activities until further notice.”
It was easy to feel the rise in tension around the table. For the portion of the family that lived underground (everyone but the parents), going into the high-fenced backyard was the only opportunity any of them had to see sunlight. The compound was lit with full spectrum lights that simulated sunlight. The false windows in their bedrooms were made to trick the mind into believing there were ways out.
There wasn’t. They were lit panes of frosted plexiglass.
“Nobody?”
Matra looked up from her plate.
Nev was sitting forward in her seat. She threw a look down the table like she was searching for support. “Some of us have projects that require time outside.”
The pause before Marx spoke was a silent warning. “They’ll have to wait.” He picked up his fork and turned to his plate, which was the sign that the rest of them were cleared to eat.
Matra picked up her own fork, her stomach growling.
“But the peppers are close to harvest.”
Matra froze.
Audil froze.
On her other side, even Pamela went still.
Matra moved her eyes but not her head to see Marx return his fork to the space beside his plate with deliberate slowness.
He looked to Nev, pinning her with hard eyes. “And how, pray tell, does the importance of harvesting the peppers outweigh the safety of our family?”
Matra glanced across the table to see color rising into Nev’s cheeks. “It doesn’t, of course.”
That had been the right answer—and very diplomatic for a fifteen-year-old.
“But the drones aren’t there to hurt people.”
Matra would have choked on her food if she’d had time to get a bite into her mouth. This time, when she looked at Nev she didn’t try to disguise it. Nobody did. Family members threw one another surreptitious glances with wary expressions.
Marx laughed and Matra’s blood went cold. “Then what are they there for?”
Do not answer that, Matra silently pleaded to Nev. He wasn’t asking because he wanted to know. He was asking so he could hang her with the answer. For Marx, laughter was a biproduct of anger.
But Nev likely hadn’t figured that out yet. Matra hadn’t yet figured it out when she’d been Nev’s age.
“The commercials say—”
“Nev.” Leif’s nervous laugh came down the table. “It’s fine. We’ll all survive without the peppers.”
Matra’s heart sank.
He shouldn’t have said anything, especially considering he was Nev’s biological brother.
Around the table, the tension was so thick it could have been cut and served as part of the meal that sat, going cold, in front of them. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.
Matra lifted her eyes to see Callee, across the table and a couple of seats down, likewise looking up through her lashes. Their eyes caught and Matra could feel as much as see Callee’s stress.
“I only meant that the commercials say the drones aren’t there to hurt anybody,” Nev said into the empty void of stress. “They’re there to help—”
“Enough!” Marx’s hand came down onto the table with a reverberating crack! His eyes traveled the table. “I told you the televisions were a mistake. They’re removed tonight. Understand?”
Pamela gave a nod. “I’ll take care of it.”
Marx spoke over her, his attention back squarely on Nev. “Those commercials are there to indoctrinate people,” he spat. “They’re propaganda meant to convince an entire population that having their activities, their purchases, their very lives tracked is tolerable—even favorable! Don’t pretend you know something this family doesn’t. We,” he motioned to the other adults at the table, “we grew up in that, we work in that world to protect you all from it, so you don’t have to know! We do all of that to keep the rest of you safe. And you’d look our sacrifices in the mouth so you can tend to your garden?” He sat back in his seat like he was at a loss for words, and thank god, Nev appeared to know well enough to keep her mouth shut this time.
“The safety of this family is the most important thing,” he went on after a breath, his voice lower now but somehow more menacing for its quietness. “Do you understand that?”
“Yes.” Nev’s voice was very small.
Marx motioned down the table that stretched away from him in both directions. “This family—this family that we choose—is the only thing that matters.”
Matra knew what was coming when Marx’s gaze shifted to Leif.
“This family—without regard to biological ties. Biological ties aren’t real. They’re a necessary lie, but they are a lie, make no mistake about that. Do you understand?”
Matra kept her head down, her eyes falling closed, so she heard but didn’t see Leif’s and Nev’s low “yes, sir” responses.
“Now apologize,” Marx demanded. “Apologize to everyone here whose dinner you’ve delayed with your selfish, willful ignorance.”
Callee
Callee came awake to the sound of adult voices in the hallway.
Her head was resting on Alix’s chest as they laid in his narrow bed, his steady heartbeat accompanying the sound of the adults’ muffled conversation and footsteps.
“They’re going into Leif’s room.” Alix’s voice was barely more than a breath.
Callee lifted her cheek from his chest. His short, navy-black hair was messy from going to sleep after his post-dinner shower. The soft glow given by the small lamp across the room revealed the tension in his dark eyes when he looked down at her.
She wanted to kiss him. It was so short a time each night that they got to be together like this.
But that would be a mistake.
They shouldn’t have slept together tonight. They should have known the adults would come into the compound after what happened at dinner.
Normally they stayed in their comfortable homes above ground each night—except when there was punishment to be doled out.
Leif’s bedroom was two rooms down. It was next door to Callee’s room—which currently sat vacant.
“What if they go into my room?” she breathed, fear spiking in her blood, sending her heart pounding against her ribs.
But Alix shook his head.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway could be heard again, coming closer, and Callee froze.
Being caught in Alix’s bed would mean certain punishment for them both. The adults were permitted romantic and sexual relationships—and if rumors were to be believed, they exercised that freedom widely and frequently—but the younger generation, who lived within the walls of the compound, were not.
They were all siblings, after all.
Not genetically, of course. They were a family by choice. But brothers didn’t sleep with their sisters. Sisters didn’t pursue sexual gratification with their brothers.
Except Callee had never, ever, from the moment she’d met Alix as a child and in all the years she’d known him, considered him her brother.
There was nothing brother-sister in the way they felt about each other.
But that wouldn’t matter if they were caught in bed together.
If they were found, it would be seen as a betrayal to the family. Callee could almost hear the lecture they’d receive, even while she couldn’t imagine the severity of the punishment that would follow it. An unnecessary risk, the adults would call it. They would say she and Alix’s relationship was a foolish complication that jeopardized the safety and security of the group.
It wouldn’t matter that they loved one another. That they’d loved one another for years.
Alix cradled her face in his hand as she peered up at him. He ran his thumb over her lips, her eyebrow, so her eyes fell closed. She wanted to touch his body and give in to the mindless joy of the sensation of his hands on her skin. Instead, she let him gently guide her head back to his chest.
“It’s not us they’re here for,” he breathed into the darkness. “Try to go back to sleep.”
The sound of the neighboring door sliding open nearly made her jump out of her skin, the sound so similar to what it would have been had it been their door instead of Nev’s.
Callee’s breath caught in her throat. She lifted her head once again, unable to stay still.
“What’s going on?” Nev’s young voice was muffled through the wall, but it was easy to fill in the gaps of the words that were hard to hear.
“Out of bed.” That had been Marx’s voice, harsh and demanding.
Callee’s chest felt cold. Her heart was pounding but she kept her breath steady. She looked to Alix. “Are you gonna be okay?” Would he be able to feel the emotional toll of what was about to happen in the next room?
“I can’t feel it through the walls,” he breathed in response. “Can you?”
Callee turned her face into his chest again. “Not fully.” She’d be able to sense only an edge of the physical pain that was about to be inflicted, but not the brunt of it.
Alix sensed emotion, Callee sensed the physicality of people. What a pair they made, she thought as Alix brought his hand to the side of her face as the sound of Nev’s voice tripped through the cinderblock wall.
“What? No. Please. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. Please.”
Callee squeezed her eyes shut.
“Wait. What?” That was Leif’s voice.
“You need to learn that favoritism has no place here,” Marx said. “That genetic ties are meaningless.”
Oh god. A dawning kind of knowledge washed over her. They were going to make Leif do it. They were going to make him beat his sister.
“I understand that. I do,” Leif replied, his voice muffled but the stress in it as easy to hear as if he’d been in the room with them.
“So show us you understand,” Marx said, his voice hard.
“It’s not—”
“Show us!”
Callee jumped with Marx’s shout and a cold sweat broke across her skin despite the warmth under blankets with Alix. He began gently stroking her short hair with his fingers. The palm of his hand rested over her ear and Callee knew it wasn’t an accident. He did it to try to shield her from the worst of what they were about to hear. Unfortunately, it did nothing to block out Nev’s pleading whimper.
Or the crack of the paddle.
It didn’t muffle Nev’s yelps of pain, or Leif’s barely disguised, coughing-sobs that accompanied each cracking impact.
It didn’t erase the soft sound of Nev quietly crying after everyone had left.
Chapter 3
Matra
Matra sat perched on the edge of her too-big bed in the darkness as she listened to the adults leave Nev’s room. Then the sound of footsteps passing her own bedroom door: four sets of feet.
She’d heard Marx voice as they ordered Leif out of bed. No doubt Tina was with him. Which meant Pamela and Greg were present too. The four of them always doled out punishment as a team.
It wasn’t until five sets of feet—the parents and Leif—left Leif’s room and made their way to Nev’s that Matra unfolded the finger-worn and tear-brittled piece of paper that had been clenched in her fist. The lines on the paper had begun to fade, but the hurried scrawl of words were still as crisp as the first time she’d read them.
I’ll love you until I die. I’ll find you.
Nev’s scream was muffled through the rooms between her and where Matra sat, but they pierced her heart just the same.
I can’t stay here.
The thought made her stop breathing and go still. It was a dangerous thought to have, but not the first time she’d had it.
She used to think like that all the time. She used to long for a way out. She and Christopher used to talk about how they’d leave. Then he’d left. And at first, her longing had doubled. She’d even tried to find a way, but it was fruitless. She couldn’t do it on her own and over time, she trained herself not to think about it anymore. This was her home, her family. She hadn’t even looked at this letter in years, despite thinking of it regularly. Before she’d pulled it from its hiding place tonight, she’d worried it wouldn’t be there, like maybe it had been a figment of her imagination all along. But no, it was there, tucked into its place, just how she’d left it. Just how he’d left it that night.
I’ll find you. She read those words like she hoped reading them would make them come true.
Business in Beta and back by breakfast.
There was a reason the ad copy said “back by breakfast” and not “home before dinner”—besides the catchy alliteration. If you were doing business in Beta, you were probably doing it after dark. Because that was the only time of the day the vampires who lived there were permitted to leave their homes.
I’ll find you.
Or maybe she could find him.
Matra listened to the fading sound of footsteps, then the telltale sound of the adults leaving the compound for their public-facing homes above her head before she moved from her bed.
A minute later, she silently slid her door open by inches, slipped through, then closed it again before padding down the hallway on stocking feet. Down the stairs, the thin carpet beneath was cool, the house around her quiet as she crossed the common space.
