Page 27 of Blood Sings (Beyond the Gloom #1)

Selena inched closer, her voice thick with smug delight. “I take it things didn’t go as planned with our dear Captain?”

I swallowed a sigh. For all her virtues, my best friend had the emotional intelligence of a brick wall. Ever since Harbinger broke the Harmonization in Sibiu, she’d been seething, despite my assurances—and his confession—that he hadn’t known the pain it would cause.

Forcing my attention away from her, I focused on Ember’s animated storytelling. Her fingers scuttled across the table, mimicking rodents. “And then,” she gasped, bottle-green eyes wide, “I saw one this big munching on the plaster!”

Groans and bubbly laughter rippled around us. I raised my cup, the metal rim glinting in the flickering light. Above, a crystal chandelier swayed on a rusted hook, painting our faces with kaleidoscopic patterns.

Gale’s feathers ruffled as she traced the colorful beams on the tabletop. “Terra outdid himself with this one.” She pointed to the porch ceiling. “Who knew he could appreciate anything finer than a well-toned bicep? Though I suppose his right hook is quite the work of art,” she quipped, flexing her arm with an exaggerated grimace.

“Keep this up, Terra,” Hummingbird cut in, his tone equally mocking, “and we might start thinking you’re more than just muscle and scowls.”

“Softie.” Quakelord snickered, then wheezed as Terraknight’s open palm connected with his sternum.

The vice-captain peered around Pearl, his wink the stuff of any woman’s dreams. “Can’t have my ladies feeling neglected, now, can I?”

“Oh, how noble ,” Selena drawled with a venomous sweetness. “Such a hero.”

His grin sharpened, all teeth and lethal charm. “Always at your service, shortie.”

“Y’know,” Hummingbird said, leaning forward as if he was about to share a secret, “a couple years back, I saw this meteor shower. Sky lit up like… like someone spilled a whole bucket of stars.” His eyes sparkled with innocent glee. “Never seen anythin’ like it. Beautiful don’t even come close.”

“Really?” I gazed at the bottomless night and imagined an upside-down ocean studded with falling jewels. “That many shooting stars?”

Hummingbird nodded, then prodded Phoenix with his chin as he reached for the card deck. She tilted her head, copper curls bouncing, while she deliberated her options.

“I remember that night,” Terraknight grunted. “Harbinger and I were buried under Stalker corpses, searching for our friends’ bodies while the sky celebrated.” His eyes met mine, hard as flint. “Wasn’t exactly the romantic evening some might imagine.”

Funeral silence blanketed the table.

I studied Terraknight’s expression—the tightness around his mouth, the muscle feathering in his jaw—and wondered how many guildmates he’d buried since his conscription. Dozens? Hundreds?

A low hum, like a murmured hiss, whispered through the night air.

Behind Hummingbird, the veil to our reality shimmered and twisted, birthing a fist-sized knot of darkness that crackled with a miniature thunderstorm. It grew wide, wider, until it devoured the crackling campfire and a good portion of the old oak. The aroma of roasted coffee and delicate roses—Harbinger’s essence—intensified, flooding my senses.

I gulped down my HemaTech-9, desperate to relieve the itch in my gums.

His original heritage explained the magnetic pull I felt toward him. Among common purebloods, fresh blood addiction often bred possessiveness and danger—hence the Republic’s draconian feeding laws. Bloodletting bars catered to those who acknowledged their cravings, a stopgap against the torment of perpetual hunger.

But I was neither common nor weak.

Yet… Harbinger’s undiluted blood lured me in with a seductive melody of power and long-lasting satiation. Rich with his mother’s legacy and spiced with varcolac genetic makeup, it promised a flavor so intoxicating, so potent, it made me ache with longing. A life without another drop led my thoughts into dark places.

Harbinger emerged from the portal, his snow-kissed hair windswept as if he’d battled a tempest. He settled onto the log by the fire, a leather-bound tome sprawling across his thighs. The firelight softened his features, melting away the ever-present tension in his jaw.

It was like glimpsing an alternate version of him—unburdened by the constant threat of death, with no one to impress or command. Just him and his book, tired yet at peace, stealing a few precious moments of respite.

And incredibly erotic.

Wait, what? That last thought came out of nowhere. Must be Hummingbird’s breathtakingly romantic meteor shower getting to me. Had to be.

“On the bright side,” Terraknight drawled, draping his arms over Quakelord and Pearl’s backrests, “I figured if those stars were the last thing I saw before a Stalker ripped out my throat, at least I’d die with a view. Meteor showers, what are they—once a century? Doubt I’ll live to see another.”

Ember rose on silent feet, her blonde brows furrowed in concentration as she loaded a plate. Moonlight caught her blush as she approached Harbinger, hips swaying beneath her oversized dress.

A sudden, sharp pang of jealousy caught me off guard, its intensity almost dizzying.

Harbinger accepted the plate with a distracted nod, his attention never leaving his book. Ember settled beside him, drinking in his profile as if it were the most fascinating sight in the world.

I wrenched my attention back to Terraknight and ignored the discomfort in my chest. He wasn’t mine.

“That’s...” I fumbled for words, suddenly aware of how trivial my annoyance with Elena’s dinner summonses seemed in comparison. “I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine—”

“Can’t see the stars over there?” Hummingbird asked, gesturing south.

I shook my head, but Selena answered before me. “City lights. They never dim.”

“Huh.” He nodded. “It’s pitch-black here. Few people, mostly candles. It’s nice, I s’pose. Great for stargazing—one of the few perks of this place.”

I choked on my breath. An outlier had just called the battlefront ‘nice.’

“The sky here,” Harbinger broke the quiet. “Reminds me of the Republic’s fireworks. Are they still doing that?”

“Yes! They are. On the Fateless Festival. Do you remember it?”

He turned a page, the whisper of paper loud in the hush. “I remember the lights in the sky. The fountain at the base of some towering building. It was loud. Crowded.”

My eyes widened. “That’s Corvin Palace! Did you live in the First Ward, Harbinger?”

The First Ward had a rich history as an affluent neighborhood with venerable noble houses. It made sense for Harbinger to have lived there, given his mother’s bloodline and Russkayan ties. I could almost see a young, silver-haired boy there, shielded from the struggles of the lower wards where mixed-breeds often lived. The Republic wouldn’t have allowed his father to glimpse our nation’s less polished facets.

After all, ignorance in our enemies was a weapon in our arsenal.

“It’s been a long time,” Harbinger said, staring into the popping logs. “But yeah, probably. With my family. I remember Ma taking me to watch the fireworks on a wide balcony.”

I winced, realizing the minefield I’d stumbled into. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes darted to me, amber flashing crimson. “What for?”

“I didn’t mean to pry.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I can hardly remember it anyway.” But the tension in his shoulders told a different story.

Dread swept over me like a lawn roller. I met their gazes one by one, each hard stare adding weight to the question swirling in my thoughts. Pushing words out was like trying to carry a boulder the size of a house up a mountain. “Do you… resent us?”

“A, don’t go there,” Selena hissed a warning.

Phoenix and Hummingbird traded loaded glances over their cards. Gale’s wings twitched, her eyes suddenly fascinated by the used napkin on her plate. The rook in Pearl’s hand trembled, suspended over her chess game with Terraknight.

Their silence was answer enough for me.

It was Quakelord who spoke first, his voice surprisingly measured. “Being treated like dirt? It sucks. Those camps were hell, and every battle here…” He shook his head. “Yeah, I hate the purebloods with all my being. Who made them gods to decide we are disposable just ‘cause we’re not immortal?”

I moved to speak, ready to tell him that not everyone shared this view, but snapped my mouth closed. Platitudes wouldn’t change their reality. Only power would.

“But,” he continued, assessing me with sharp, hard eyes, “not all purebloods are monsters. Just like not all halfbloods are saints. Hell, my own people gave me grief for my slanted eyes in the camps.”

Gale’s low growl startled me. “Being an iele was no picnic either. Wings made us easy targets.” Her gaze flicked to Hummingbird. “World’s cruel to anyone different, pureblood or not.”

“Point is,” Quakelord added, “we know there are good purebloods. So no, we don’t resent you for who you are.”

The anxiety in my chest loosened. “Your experiences are valid, and your anger is justified.” I straightened, channeling Miss Harambea’s etiquette lessons. “I can’t undo the past, but I can change the future. I will fight to create a world where no one faces such discrimination, pureblood or mixed-breed alike.”

The quiet that followed was different—less hostile, tinged with a hint of respect. I’d meant every word. I hoped I could prove it to them.

“I’ve got a question for you, too.” Terraknight lounged back, his eyes fixed on me. “How come you aren’t resenting us? I haven’t met a projector yet who doesn’t loathe our bones.”

“Resenting you would be… hypocritical,” I said, weighing each word on my tongue. “And short-sighted. My views on mixed-breeds shifted long ago…” I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Ever since an outlier saved my life.”

I deliberately omitted any mention of his nature, wary of giving Harbinger any more information if he proved to be a Russkayan spy.

Bodies tensed and leaned in. Even Harbinger gave up on his book, his attention snapping to me with sudden interest. I could feel Selena’s worried gaze drilling a hole into the side of my head. I’d never spoken it out loud before.

“I don’t know what became of him,” I continued. “But when I asked why he didn’t let me die, he said something that has stayed with me ever since.”

Selena clicked her tongue in disappointment. We didn’t keep secrets, she and I, but this… Some truths were too personal to share, even with her. Knowledge of a varcolac could have put her in danger, and I convinced myself that withholding the information was the lesser evil. It was better for her to remain ignorant of his existence. At least, that’s what I told myself to ease the guilt that had been eating at my conscience. Now, I only hoped she’d forgive me.

Hummingbird propped his chin on his fist, rattling the cutlery. “What did he say?”

I closed my eyes, battling the tide of memories. “He told me, ‘We’re Republic citizens, born and raised. But people have forgotten that, so we must prove ourselves. We fight and protect to show our commitment, so they can never again— ”

Harbinger shot to his feet, his book hitting the ground with a thunderous thump. The scowl on his face promised murder, his eyes beginning to glow with the beast inside of him. Fear punched straight into my chest, but I held my chin high and refused to cower.

“— claim we’re undeserving of citizenship,’ ” I finished, a little louder than a breath.

I could see the effects of my words on him—surprise, skepticism, and perhaps, just perhaps, a flicker of hope.

Shock rippled through the outliers, a wave of gasps and widened eyes. But it was Harbinger’s reaction, not my savior’s declaration, that had stunned them. Only Terraknight maintained a facade of calm, betrayed by the wine trembling in his unsteady hand.

My mind raced.

Harbinger had known the varcolac. Closely, if his rage was any indication. Was it the words themselves, or the underlying sense of justice that had struck such a nerve?

“Instead of letting me perish, he gave me a second chance.” I stood up, just in case I needed to defend myself. Or run away. “Those words became my guiding light, my purpose. Our differences once made the Republic great. It’s everyone’s responsibility to protect their homeland. And I intend to honor that duty, whatever the cost.”

The glow in Harbinger’s eyes dimmed, crimson bleeding into amber. When he finally spoke, his voice was rusty, as though he hadn’t used it in years. “Pretty words, Projector. We’ll see if you back them up.”

“I intend to,” I said, hoping no one noticed the rapid drumming of my heart.

Hummingbird piped up, his voice light but probing. “Say, Projector Tepes, you’re a bit of an idealist, aren’t you?”

Selena snorted, nearly choking on her drink. “Oh, she’s definitely one of those.”

“An idealist in the Black Guild? Now I’ve seen everything!” Quakelord put his head down on the table, his shoulders jerking.

I felt a hot flush traveling up my neck. Harbinger’s solid frown cracked, a wisp of a smirk tugging at his mouth. Pearl caught my eye, mouthing a sympathetic ‘sorry’ as she tried to stifle her giggles.

My forehead wrinkled. “Is he choking?” I asked, nodding at Quakelord.

“No, he just needs a moment,” Terraknight said. “He’s young. Easily excitable.”

I straightened my posture. “And what if I am… an idealist?”

Hummingbird held up his hands. “No offense meant. It’s… well, the Tenth Ward has a way of shattering illusions.”

Quakelord rose in his chair, his tone turning serious. “Look, you’re not a bad person, Projector. But this job? It’s not what you think it is. We’re not fighting for some noble cause.”

“Quakelord…” Harbinger’s low growl held a note of warning.

The earth-mover shrugged, unfazed. “I’m just saying, maybe you should reconsider before you get in too deep. Switch with someone else before you end up regretting it.”

“I appreciate your concern,” I deadpanned. “But I’m not here by accident or mistake. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I’d prefer not to discuss my motivations further.”

Harbinger’s eyes narrowed, studying me with renewed interest. “Do you now, Projector? We’ll see about that, too.”