“Far as I know.”
“And that’s what I can smell—the decomposed bodies?”
“What’s left of them, yeah.”
It made me tense then, knowing I was breathing the scent of death—of life stolen under panic and fear. “That’s horrible.”
“Yep. But the Damned won't eat them if they’re already dead. It’s the kill, the stalk, the terror they thrive on. Not just blood.”
I swallowed. “Those cages are secure, right?”
Mike laughed. “Yes. We’ve only ever had one escape.”
“Really? Did it kill anyone?”
“It ripped the flesh off a maid’s torso, but she was immortal, so she actually recovered.”
“Guess it’s a good thing we’re immortal, then.”
He scoffed. “Immortal. Not undying. You know that. If it’d taken her head off, she’d have been dead.”
“Or the heart, right?”
“What’d you mean?”
“Jason took my heart out, and I stayed dead until he put it back.” I rubbed my chest, dropping my hand as soon as I realised I was doing it. “If they ripped the heart out, would a Created Lilithian stay dead?”
“I think so.”
“What if we put it back?”
“Providing the Damned didn't actually eat the heart, they may regenerate.”
“Ew. So, you wanna hope you never lose a body part, then?”
“Yeah, well, not a vital one.”
“Is it the same for you?”
“What?”
“Death. Can you die, like I can?”
He sighed heavily. “A bit easier, actually. From what I'm told, if you slice the back of my neck, you know, sever the spinal cord, I’d be gone.”
“Would you come back if we regenerated you?”
“I don't think so. Created Lilithians don't—not from that.”
“Why do I?”
“Well, you technically don't, either. Once your soul leaves your body, you reincarnate. There’s no going back.”
“But Jason said I needed some serum to kill my kind—to stay dead.”
“Well, that’s a load of bullshit, Ara. If he’d not put your heart back in your body, or if your head had been chopped off, you’d have stayed dead.”
“But not real death. He said that my soul stays tethered to the realm of life—that it’s really hard to sever the connection.”
He rubbed his chin. “Did he?”
“Yeah.”
“Hm.”
“What’s hm?”
“Just…there may be some truth to that. I read somewhere that if a body is rendered useless, but the soul hasn't been untied, they wander the earth for eternity—and that’s how we get ghosts.”
“So, what, because I'm a pure blood, my soul can't be untethered?”
“I'm not sure, baby. Guess we’ll have to do a bit more reading.”
“I could ask Arthur.”
“What would he know about it?”
“He knows quite a bit.”
“Yeah, well, let’s just keep him out of it for now. Ask your husband, instead.”
“What would David know?”
“More than you might think, pretty girl.”
I smiled to myself. He hadn't called me that in ages. “So, being that we’re Lilithian—quite close to human, will the Damned try to eat us if we go in the cage?”
“Ara, they try to eat vampires. And they won't just eat you—they’ll toy with you first, make you really scared so your blood warms.”
“No, they won't.” I smirked to myself. “You’re just trying to scare me.”
I heard him laugh, and when I looked up at him, I had to laugh, too.
“You look like a big uncle playing in his nephew’s cubby house,” I said.
“Yeah, I think we’ll take the other passage next time.” He reached up to touch the roof without any effort. “This was built in a time when humans weren’t quite as tall.”
“It’s not too low for me.” I shrugged.
“Ara, you can walk straight in a tube slide.”
“Hey.” I flicked my hand out at him.
“Ow.” He rubbed his chest. “You gotta stop slapping me.”
“Aw, doesn't baby like a little slap?”
“Me? I love a slap. I just like to be the one doing the slapping.” He gave my butt a soft whack, to which I returned a little squeal.
“I can't believe you just did that.”
“Meh, it’ll do you some good. And what’re you gonna do about it?” he said, shining the torch in my face; I covered my eyes from the almost blue flash. “You gonna tell the king on me?”
“Yes,” I said, pushing his hand down, seeing the grin he wore behind the light’s glare.
“Ha! He’d probably shake my hand for disciplining you.”
“Yeah, probably.” I looked away, my smile dropping with the ghostly sound of dripping water. My shoulders tightened, and an unnerving cold moved in, layering my tongue with a strange metal tang. I moved saliva around in my mouth, trying to swallow the taste down.
“Right.” Mike angled the light to show a string of lanterns hanging from the arched ceiling. “Look for matches.”
“Matches?”
“Yeah, you know, little sticks that bring flame.”
“Ha-ha.” I dropped to my knees and scrambled around for the feel of a box or something, but there was only dirt, really cold dirt.
“Here. Got ‘em.”
“Erk. Of course you do.” I stood up and dusted my hands on my jeans. “You just wanted to see me get all dirty.”
“Or I just thought you should get down on your knees and pray.” He laughed, making himself sound like a preacher.
“Yeah, how ‘bout I pray for Lilithians to have night vision as good as vampires do?”
“Great idea. While you’re at it, get me the power to read minds, will you? That’d be a handy tool.”
“No problem,” I said drily. “Want a sense of humour, too—among other miracles?”
“Are you saying I'm not funny?”
“Who me? Never.”
“Good, because I might just have another smack on the butt sitting dormant in these hands.” He laughed. “And shut up, I can't concentrate on lighting this match with you talking at me.”
A golden flame came to life then, warming the eeriness of the cellblock in the small circle where Mike and I stood, but outside that, the flickering wick of the lantern cast dancing shadows in a creepy theatre show on the walls.