The Bronze Blade
Page 11

He said nothing else, pulling her by the ankle until she was away from the rocks. Then he shoved up her tunic and began to untie his trousers. “The human women die too fast.”
Aday sneered. “And you care if they’re dead?”
Saraal only turned her face to the side and stared at the stars. At least she could still see them; Odval hadn’t pulled her into the tents. She no longer allowed herself to wince when they raped her. She felt the pain each time, because her body renewed itself with every sleep. Her skin would bruise and mottle, but in minutes, the marks would be gone. Her flesh would tear if they were too rough—as Odval usually was—but by the next night, her body bore no trace.
She lay still and stared into blackness while he fucked her.
Aday appeared, hovering over Odval’s shoulder, as if she was perched on his back. Then she rolled off and lay next to Saraal. Reaching out a tentative hand, the girl squeezed her cold fingers. Then she rolled to her side and met Saraal’s eyes.
Her fangs ran down, and Saraal realized, for the first time, that Aday’s fangs were beautiful. Curved like tiny twin blades. Delicate. Like a hawk’s claws, they curved back into her mouth.
Saraal lifted a hand and let one finger run down the girl’s fangs. She felt Aday’s lips move.
“Kill him, Saraal.”
Odval grunted and groaned. He was almost done. Finally.
“I can’t.”
“Yes. When he leans down to take your blood. You must strike first; he won’t be expecting it. Strike first and bite him. Drain his blood. It is older than yours. Powerful. Drink and be strong. Then you will kill him.”
“Sida cannot be killed.”
“You know they can. You’ve seen Kuluun kill the younger ones. You know how.”
“I can’t—”
“You will take this.” Aday’s hand ran down Saraal’s side to the dagger that she had concealed beneath her breasts. It was a bronze blade, like Suk carried, but shorter. She had found it among the bodies while she was scavenging. She knew she shouldn’t have kept it—Kuluun would be very angry—but Aday has teased and coaxed until Saraal had hidden it away.
“You will take this, my girl, and you will kill Odval. Slice the back of his  neck. Sever his spine, then drink every drop of his blood. When you are finished, you must cut off his head.”
As Aday spoke, Saraal could see the blood-soaked vision. It tempted her. She could scent the blood in her nose. Feel the rich syrup on her lips.
Saraal reached for the dagger. Or Aday did. She didn’t know anymore. She felt the girl’s hand close over her own.
“Good, Saraal,” Odval rasped. “Ungh.”
They pulled the dagger from its sheath as Odval neared his release. His eyes were closed, lost in his own pleasure.
“Give me your neck,” he said. “I want to drink.”
“Don’t let him,” Aday whispered. “Do it now. Reach up and—”
“Yes!”
Saraal hadn’t ever moved so fast, not even when she was running from Kuluun. Odval was still spilling inside her when she grabbed his hair and pulled his head forward, plunging her fangs in his neck as her dagger sliced across the back of his neck.
“Aaaargh!” Odval’s inhuman scream shattered the night. But there were too many screams that night. The village was being systematically massacred around the fire as the Sida roared and laughed and feasted.
His legs stilled as she took great, gulping mouthfuls of his blood. Only a strangled whine came from his throat. No one would hear them at the edge of the camp.
“Good,” Aday whispered. “Very good. How does his blood taste?”
So sweet, she wanted to weep. It was sweeter than human blood, sweeter even than the child she’d killed her first night. Odval’s blood should have tasted like piss and dirt and pony shit, but it didn’t. The Sida’s blood held none of the filth of his personality. It was the most delicious nectar to ever pass her lips.
“Saraa—gghhll…” Odval choked as the lifeblood poured from his body. Saraal tugged his head to the side and met his mouth in a murderous kiss, biting off his tongue and spitting it out before she sucked the blood that he tried to cough up.
So much blood.
It filled her. Fed her. Saraal felt as if she would drift away from the earth as she took it, but Aday lay at her back, curling around her body and crooning her approval as Saraal drained Odval.
Finally, when he lay still, she pushed his body away, shoving her tunic down until she was covered. She ripped the sleeve from his shirt and wiped his bloody seed from her legs, then kicked at his lifeless legs when she stood.
Saraal took a deep breath and looked up. The stars were brighter now. The sounds from the camp clear and clanging in the cold air. The other Sida were fighting. It would last until dawn as each warrior tried to prove himself the strongest. She let her eyes drift down to Odval, who lay weak and silent at her feet.
She knelt beside the once mighty giant, licking his cheek where a dribble of blood had escaped. Then she spoke directly to him for the first time, and her voice was low and smooth, resonant in her own ears.
“What should I do with you, Odval?”
He said nothing.
“Perhaps I should bury you like this and dig you out tomorrow night, break your neck again, so you can’t move. Maybe you’ll have more blood to give me then.”
A high whine.
“No?” She lay her cold cheek against his and spoke in his ear. “I should do that, Odval. Perhaps it is your fate.”