Jax moves up the stairs and steps out of sight. Laura’s hazy gaze sharpens, snapping to mine. Anger consumes her—giving me the kind of look that could split glass—while I stare blankly at her. “I will kill you if you touch him.” I nudge my head in the direction Jax went. “And then I will kill him if he likes it.” Her eyes widen, and what little colour she has drains from her face. The woman is always looking at Jax like she isn’t well aware he shares my bed, and I’m sick of it.
“Saya! Hurry up before the Bleeder locks you out of our room and sends you to the private room instead,” Manni says, then quickly moves on ahead with Emily.
Without caring to wait for a reply from Laura, I head up the stairs with Cole, then take the opposite corridor to Jax and Dan. We stop before the corner and come face-to-face with the door to our humble abode. An evacuation diagram hangs beside it, in case of a slayer attack. In the decade we have been here, Cole and I have never witnessed an attack or even heard of one happening.
My focus catches on the area of the map marked “delivery room” on the ground floor, next to the praised room. The Bleeders don’t allow us in there.
It’s also where we suspect they took Summer a couple of months back.
“Saya?” Cole says, squeezing my hand.
With a deep breath, I look away from the evacuation diagram, and we step into our orange-lit room. I glance at the toilet in the corner furthest from our bunks, but decide to wait until Cole’s asleep to go.
The door shuts behind us, and when I glance back, a Bleeder presses the emergency lock button on the outside of our room to keep us secure for the night.
“Ugh,” Manni groans as she fists her pillow in frustration. “My neck is gonna be sore in the morning. When are we getting new pillows again?”
“Six months,” Cole says as he strolls to his bottom bunk. “New mattresses in twelve.”
“Definenew,” I mumble.
I scratch the back of my head and take a step towards my bunk when Emily grabs my attention. Rolling onto her side on her bottom bunk, she gives me a half smile. “I noticed you and Jax whispering in the mess. Are you planning another escape attempt?”
A chill settles into my spine. I glance at the door, but the Bleeder has already vanished. Turning back to Emily, I say, “Yes. Are you interested?”
She abruptly sits up, her eyes going wide. “Yes!”
I flick my glamour-blonde hair away from my shoulder, fold my arms across my chest, and tilt my chin higher. “It’s every Feeder for themselves, though. If you fall behind, we’re not gonna help you.”
With one exception.I glance over at Cole. Already cocooned under his blankets and faced away from me, it would be hard not to notice his irritation.
Manni sits up in the bunk above Emily, her browsknitting together, reminding me of the times my mum used to scold me. “A lot of us died last time. What makes this escape any different?”
I shrug and say, “Jax says it will work, and I trust him.”
Manni doesn’t believe me. So, as I watch her sink lower in her bunk, I don’t push her to join us. It will take time for her. Our last run didn’t end well.
As I make my way over to Cole, I catch a glimpse of the light. An orange glow spills from the vent through the mesh bars. Like shimmering heat on a granite road, ripples of light dance across the room, alive on the white walls.
The Bleeders placed the light inside the vent after Wesley cut himself on the glass. When blood was no longer spilling freely from his veins in the bloodbank, they told him he would be entering the private room.
That night, his bunk buddy found him on the ground. Shards of glass lay scattered beside him, a vein opened by the piece gripped in his palm.
I sit on the edge of Cole’s bed. The mattress sags, and my backside hits the wooden slats underneath. Cole doesn’t stir when I reach out and touch his shoulder.Stubborn.He at least got that from our parents. Though I am sure he doesn’t remember them, seeing as we came here when he was three years old after…
Mum points to the Slayer Sea. “Follow it, and you will find our Life Tree. She will be waiting for you...”
With a shake of my head, I lean closer to Cole. “What’s wrong?” I ask, giving his shoulder another nudge to encourage him to speak.
He pulls the thin, bristly blanket up and over his head.
I let out a sigh, lean back into him, and roll my bodyacross his back. Most of my weight presses against him, hoping to coax him into talking to me.
“Get off me!” he snaps.
I simply stretch and make myself at home, like he is the most comfortable mattress I have ever encountered. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
Cole squirms in defiance, but as he accepts I’m not budging, he mutters, “Fine. Now get off!”
