Jivaja (Soul Cavern Series Book 1) Read online

  “We can't let them overrun the city, Emilia,” Edward said, leaning in. He clearly had no idea that Claude was a “purist.” Perhaps his sense of smell was as bad as his sight.

  “No one's going to overrun the city.” She laid a hand on his forearm. Her skin looked dark against the pale yellow suit jacket. “After the Gathering, I'll find out what happened to Hayden. You have my word.”

  Edward took her measure. “All right. But mark me: this won't end well.”

  “Let me look into it.”

  Edward nodded, a tight, brusque movement and then turned away. He left them with brisk steps, the limp from his club foot pronounced without his cane. He lurched with each step.

  When Edward moved out of earshot, even for their advanced hearing, Emilia turned to Claude.

  “Mecca’s here. She’s in the maze.”

  The surge of energy he’d felt had told him the same thing about Mecca’s location, but he fixed a look of surprise on his face. It wasn’t entirely false. He had no idea how she had gotten into the maze.

  Now he wished he’d taken part.

  “How could she have gotten into the maze?”

  “Just before the Game began, I received a report from the guards that they caught a young woman snooping around. They put her in with the offerings.”

  The stupid sheep! He felt his advantage floating away.

  “You’ll kill them for that, I hope.” He scanned the crowd, searching for Salas. “And so they released her with the others. She is being hunted.”

  “Yes, yes, and yes,” Emilia said, almond eyes intense. Her voice lowered even further. “I believe she’s killed one of the players.”

  That explained the surge in Claude's senses. His link with her, through his blood, caused him to feel a fraction of what she felt when she drained the energy from someone. It was quite intoxicating. He wondered how strong Emilia's surge had been. Was her tie to Mecca as full as his?

  “I’m going in to find her,” Emilia continued. “I can’t have one of them killing her, and I certainly can’t have her killing all of them.”

  “Edward might find out that it wasn't a purist who killed his son, after all.”

  Emilia watched him closely for a moment. What was she thinking? Finally, she nodded. “Yes. But that's a problem in itself. I don't want him thinking it was a purist either. I don’t need additional unrest in my city.”

  “I understand. I’ll post extra guards on the maze exits and instruct them not to shoot escapees. I’m assuming you don’t want her killed.”

  “No extra guards,” she said. “I don’t want people alerted. Everything needs to seem as normal.”

  “As you wish. Though when they see you going into the Maze, they’ll know things are not as normal.”

  “I don’t intend them to see me. I’ll go around to one of the side entrances. Have Salas find Will and tell him.” She left his side without waiting for his agreement.

  Through the French doors, he spotted Salas, speaking to a young woman he’d never seen. When the manservant saw Claude approach, he wisely separated from her, redirecting his attention to his master. He stepped out onto the patio to join Claude.

  “What’s happened?” Salas asked. “You look as if you’ve seen someone burned at the stake.”

  “Mecca’s in the Game. She’s killed someone.” He looked around Salas to study the Maze.

  “Are you sure she's not in the house somewhere?”

  “No. I don’t think she would kill for killing’s sake. In the Maze, she would be doing it to keep herself alive.” The more he considered it, the more he thought Emilia was right. “She has to be in the Maze. And she's killed someone in there. In all the history of Maze Gatherings, no offering has ever killed a player.” Claude rubbed his palm over his face. “Things have just gotten much more complicated.”

  “What will you have me to do?”

  “We have to find her before Emilia does. She’s gone into the Maze herself.”

  Salas raised both eyebrows. It was the extent to which he ever showed surprise.

  “Yes. I suspect she's going to try to talk to Mecca, maybe subdue her. I don't know. But we need to get to Mecca first. I think she will respond to me.”

  “Well, if she really is in the Maze,” Salas said, “this is going to go badly. Everyone will know.”

  “Yes. Especially if she’s killing players. And I’m sure Emilia is thinking the same thing.” He shook his head. “I should have participated this year.”

  “You couldn’t have known.”

  “No. But it would make this much easier.” Going into the hedge would be dangerous for Salas, being human, with or without a collar. “If I go into the Maze on the east side, it might be possible to find her without drawing attention from the party or Emilia. If that’s the side Emilia’s chosen to enter, I’ll have to convince her I’m there to help her.”

  “If you run into any of the players, they will recognize you.”

  “I’ll have to take that chance, I think.”

  Salas looked toward the house. “Oh no.”

  Claude followed his gaze. Through the glass of the French doors, he looked at every face inside the room before he realized what Salas had seen. Standing near the wall, a man with graying hair and broad shoulders wore a mis-tailored suit coat over a long white tunic, brown drawstring pants and gym shoes. The man’s eyes seemed familiar. When it came to him, Claude sucked in a breath.

  David Trenow had not been on the guest list.

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Mecca

  Alicia walked close to Mecca. The rest of the group, including Tina, lagged eight or so steps behind. The young girl had fallen even farther back, toward the tail of the bunch.

  “They’ll come around,” Alicia said.

  “It doesn’t matter. My only concern is getting all of you out of here alive. I don’t care whether they like me or not.” Mecca continued to brush her hand along the leaves that made up the hedge wall to their right. Even when it curved around into a dead end, she knew if she just kept touching it, stayed with the wall, she’d have to find the side exit. That was the trick of these things.

  “You freaked them out, is all.”

  Mecca couldn’t tell who Alicia was trying to convince. She looked at the young woman sidelong. “Really, Alicia. I don’t care. If they want to stay separate, that’s fine. As long as they don’t get too far behind.”

  “When we find the way out, how long will it take for us to get to the road, do you think?”

  “About half an hour, depending on how fast you go. It’s not difficult to find, but you do have to be careful.” Mecca couldn’t decide whether a large group along the fire road would be a help or a detriment. “Especially now. They may have people patrolling the woods. You’ll need to stay together, in a group.”

  “Wait a minute. You’re coming with us, right?”

  “No.”

  She put her hand on Mecca’s arm. “What? Why not?”

  “I have something to deal with here, at the house.”

  “Mecca, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You should come.”

  “I can’t. I’ve run once already. Running won't help me.”

  They had to be close. It felt like hours since they'd entered the maze. Mecca's shoes squished as she walked, and her clothes were still soaked, making the cool night air even colder. Sara's jeans hung like a weighted curtain from her hips, heavy and cold.

  If they got out of here alive, she wouldn't be surprised if they all came down with pneumonia. That would be irony.

  Mecca had lost all track of direction and distance as they twisted through the Maze, hitting dead ends and doubling back. They always kept a hand on the right wall, so she knew they’d have to find that side entrance by the woods. It was taking forever though. And with the group of stragglers now afraid to get close to her, Mecca thought they might not make it. She picked up the pace.

  The Maze took a sharp turn to the left and as she peeked around the corner, she
was glad of the distance between her and the others. Ray's corpse lay on the ground, spread eagle. His eyes stared at the night sky, wide open, his lips curled back from his parted teeth.

  She heard the soft whispers of the group as they all came to a stop, waiting for her to lead them onward. Ray’s chest, covered in red blood and gristle, lay open to the night air, a yawning hole where his heart had been.

  How could she parade them past this?

  “What is it?” Alicia whispered near her ear.

  A squeal from behind startled them both. Mecca jerked around just in time to see a thin arm and leg disappear around a dark green, leafy corner they'd already passed. She felt sick to her stomach as she rushed back, past the single file group of refugees staring wide-eyed. They'd started crowding forward, scuttling away from that corner. She scanned the faces as she ran. Who was missing?

  A faint mewling sound came across the still night air and Mecca stopped short of the corner. The mewling stopped with a high-pitched squeak and a sickening squelching sound. Oh God.

  The image of Ray's corpse burned her mind. Alicia, who'd been following just after, jostled into her. Mecca's shoulder raked the corner of the hedge as she stumbled forward. She tried to catch herself and keep from landing on the ground. Pointed little branches scraped her palms. She recovered just as she came around the corner.

  Tina lay on the ground. Hovering over her, a young woman knelt with her hand embedded in Tina's chest, just below the ribcage. The woman's brown hair formed a veil around her face and Mecca couldn't make out her features. It didn't matter. She couldn't keep from looking at the glistening, wet, red ring encircling woman's wrist.

  The racket Mecca made coming around the corner of the hedge got the woman's attention. She met Mecca's gaze with bright dusky blue eyes. They looked hungry.

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Victoria

  Victoria couldn't believe her luck. First this child, who'd been easy to overcome with a simple snap of her neck, and now another comes barreling around the corner. That would bring her total to six. If she wasn't in the lead, she had to be close.

  She'd already gotten her fingers around the heart, but the heart would keep. Victoria couldn't have this new one running away. The cavity she'd made in the child gave a wet slurp as she pulled her hand out, empty except for a thick coating of blood. The rich smell of lifeblood, the blood of the heart, infused her mind as she got to her feet.

  Can't let this one get away.

  The girl, dark skinned with hair in a ponytail, watched Victoria, wide-eyed, one hand against the dark green leafy wall. Little red blooms of blood spotted the right shoulder of her white t-shirt. She looked as soaking wet as all the others, her jeans very dark, hanging low around her hips. But she didn't wear a collar.

  What did that mean? Victoria didn't remember seeing this one when the Games began, so she couldn't be one of the players. She had to be an offering. She must have somehow escaped the band of metal around her neck.

  Victoria thought the collar was more symbolic anyway. They were no more difficult to kill for not being able to feed from their necks.

  Too much thinking. Time was running short.

  Victoria lunged, covering the three yards between them before her prey had a chance to run. The look of surprise on the girl's face before they hit the ground was priceless, and Victoria laughed. It came out maniacal, but she chalked that up to the adrenaline. She ended up on top of the girl, lying full against her.

  As Victoria scrambled into a straddling position, the girl thrashed, now fighting for her life.

  A thrill coursed through her veins. It always surprised Victoria how much she enjoyed it when they struggled. She wouldn't be able to just snap this one's neck though. Not with all the flailing. She wouldn't be able to get a good enough hold. She'd just have to do it the messy way.

  “Get off me!” The young woman beneath her bucked her hips up, and Victoria tilted, off balance. Maybe she had underestimated this one.

  Her prey bucked again, but this time, Victoria leaned forward and rose up on her knees. She pinned the woman's wrists to the ground. Someone flashed past her, toward the body she'd left on the ground. She didn't have time to see if it was another player, but if anyone stole her heart, they’d have to answer.

  Something invaded her. It was like a worm had gotten into her head and was squirming around, looking for something.

  She jerked backward and released the girl's wrists. But those hands sought Victoria, and when her fingers wrapped around Victoria's forearm, that same wriggling feeling came again, but stronger and harder. Insistent. It made her think of a giant, wet slug.

  Victoria tried to pull away, but the girl kept her hold, sitting up when Victoria tried to stand. The worm in her head split off into different directions, reaching into her chest and her belly. It curled around her insides, alien. The metallic scent of ozone filled her nose.

  The girl stared at her — no, through her. Into her. Her deep brown eyes, open wide, focused on something just past Victoria. Or rather, something at the back of Victoria's own eyes. It made the girl look crazed.

  Victoria jerked her arms, and they tore from the girl's grasp. She got to her feet, and the girl followed, reaching out again, not afraid. When she pushed the girl's shoulders — Victoria couldn't very well call her the prey anymore; those roles seemed to have changed — small, dark hands grabbed at her again, even as the girl propelled backward. She caught hold of Victoria's right hand, and her momentum pulled Victoria forward.

  What had been a worm, now became a colossal boa constrictor. It coiled around her insides and heaved backward. Her gut was being wrenched out.

  Panic blinded her in a way it had never done in her life. The girl had gone to her knees, but her hold on Victoria's arm had gotten stronger somehow.

  Victoria kicked at her. The angle was bad, and what should have been a solid kick glanced off the girl's shoulder instead. She felt drained, like she had the night she'd fed off a dying heroin addict. It had put her stomach in knots, and she'd felt half-dead herself for two days.

  But this was worse. So much worse. Whatever the worm pulled on was close to breaking free. She could feel it stretching away from her. The strength she lost had gone to the worm, and it had redoubled its labors. And she was losing her remaining strength too quickly.

  The girl still looked beyond Victoria, her forehead wrinkled, her jaw clenched tight.

  And then the thing inside her broke free.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Maze

  Mecca lay on the ground, staring up at the sky spotted with silver stars. She could see thousands. The energy from the Visci woman pulsed inside her, throbbing against her skin, her bones, her organs. She knew she had to get up, to get everyone moving again, but she needed just this minute or two.

  She had to get control of this raging energy. She'd never taken in so much in such a short period. She felt like a live wire.

  The night breeze caressed her skin as if the air itself were alive. A low keening came from somewhere behind her. Shuffling feet off to her left. And a strangely rotten smell of apples in the air.

  Mecca wanted more time to lie, but she rolled onto her belly and pushed herself up and onto her knees. They had to get moving.

  The keening came from Alicia, who rocked over Tina's body, her arms wrapped around herself. She stared at Tina’s chest, gaze glued to the glistening red hole. Light from a torch in the corner shimmered off a tear. Mecca closed her eyes and willed herself not to gag at the raw meat the Visci woman had left behind. Like a fist, her belly clenched and unclenched.

  She leaned over, putting her head on the cool ground and drew a deep breath, the clean smell of the grass beneath her incompatible with Tina's grisly remains.

  Mecca raised up and crawled over. Alicia didn't notice her approach, or didn't acknowledge it. Her stringy, dirty blonde hair swayed as she rocked. Mecca heard the cushioned footfalls of others approaching them.

  “Alicia,” Mecca said, her voice lo
w. It took effort to speak quietly. The energy made her actions hard to control. She knelt up. “We have to go.”

  “Can't leave her.” Alicia's voice couldn't be called a whisper. It was barely a breath.

  “You can't do anything else for her. But the others need you. We have to get them out of here.”

  “No.”

  Mecca laid her hand on Alicia's forearm. Energy jumped through the connection, leaving Mecca less… full. She jerked back. Alicia's rocking stopped, and she stared at Mecca with glittering eyes.

  “What did you do?”

  Mecca looked at her hand. “I—I don't know.” She hadn't drawn energy. The energy had left her and gone to Alicia. “That's never happened before.”

  “I feel different,” Alicia said. “Stronger, maybe.” She put a thin, almost frail hand on Tina's shoulder. “If you could do that for me, can you help her?”

  “I don't think so,” she said. She was being honest. The glazed eyes, the hole in Tina’s chest, these things told Mecca that the girl was well beyond anyone's help. “Alicia, we have to leave her. She wouldn't want you and the others to get caught too. She would want us to go.”

  Alicia stared down at Tina's face and wiped a tear from her cheek, leaving a clean spot, pale beside the filth on the rest of her face. She leaned forward and kissed Tina's smooth forehead, then whispered in her ear. Mecca thought it was an apology.

  She helped Alicia to her feet, careful to keep the energy in check. Until she understood what she'd done, she didn't want it to happen again.

  They'd lost two of the women. When the Visci grabbed Tina, they'd run into the maze together. That left them a group of seven, counting Mecca herself.

  Anxious energy crowded the air among the refugees. They no longer hung back, but crowded forward, as if trying to stay in as tight a knot as possible. No one wanted to be the last in line.

  When they finally reached where they'd been when Tina disappeared, Mecca stopped. “I don't know how to keep from going through here.”