Chapter 1: The Scent of Survival

Kael POV

The Sump smells like rust, wet concrete, and old blood. I have been breathing it in through the cracked window of my apartment for twenty years, so I barely notice it anymore.

I look at myself in the mirror above the sink. My skin is pale from working nights, and dark circles sit beneath my eyes. My face is ordinary, the kind people forget the moment they look away. In the Sump, invisible people survive.

The faucet groans before spitting out rusty water. I splash some water on my face, rub the sleep from my eyes, and reach for the bottle beside the sink. There are three copper pills inside.

Three days.

I roll the bottle around in my fingers. Each pill costs more than I make in two nights at the clinic, and my supplier has been gone for a week now. Maybe the gangs caught him. Maybe the vampires did. Either way, he was gone.

I take one of the pills and swallow it. The bitter taste scrapes my throat, but soon I feel warmth spread through my chest, easing the tension that never truly leaves me.  I close my eyes, count to ten, then lift my sleeve and take a deep breath.

The smell of lilies is gone.

Everyone thinks that Pure Omegas do not exist anymore. They are wrong. One of them is staring back at me from the mirror.

I put the bottle in my pocket.

There is a letter on the kitchen table that says FINAL NOTICE in red letters. I am three months late with my rent, and the refrigerator is empty too, just half a bottle of water and a piece of stale bread.

I can wait to eat, but I cannot wait to pay my rent.

I put on my black hoodie, pull the hood over my face, and go out into the hallway.

The apartment building is falling apart. Somewhere below, glass shattered during another argument. Nobody called for help.

Outside, the streets are flooded. People are trying to cover their carts with tarps and shouting at each other.

"Blockers for sale! Half price!" "Painkillers! No prescription needed!" "Blood packs! Guaranteed to be clean!"

I keep walking. Around here, it is safer not to ask where anything comes from.

A little girl runs between the stalls and steals an apple from a cart before she disappears into the crowd, leaving the old shopkeeper to cover the rest of the fruit.

A line of people waits outside the blood bank with their sleeves rolled up, hoping another bag of blood will cover tomorrow's rent.

Across the street, a black sedan pulls up, making everyone stop talking and look. A vampire gets out of the car, gives an envelope to the broker, and leaves as workers load coolers into the trunk.

The broker is smiling. The people in line are not.

As I reach the edge of the district, the towers of the Upper District rise like blades above the skyline. It is another world.

***

After thirty minutes, I see the neon sign for the blood clinic buzzing above the door. When I go inside the smell changes to disinfectant, alcohol, and fresh blood.

"Morning, Kael," Mara says, looking up from some papers. She is tired.

"Morning."

"You are early."

"I could not sleep."

She laughs quietly and stamps a form. "Nobody in the Sump sleeps."

I go into the storage room and get my mop. The clinic asks a few questions, pays on time, and lets me keep to myself.

The first few hours are quiet as I mop the floors and empty the trash. Nobody pays attention to the janitor.

Then I hear a crash from one of the rooms where a donor has knocked over a tray of blood bags.

"Kael, can you help?" Mara calls.

I go to the room and start picking up the blood bags. The smell of blood fills the room.

Tonight it lingers.

I feel a warmth on the back of my neck. I frown, but it goes away.

I look at the clock and see that it is 2:15. The pill is supposed to last eight hours, but I took it less than four hours ago.

My stomach drops. The hallway tilts beneath my feet, and I grab the cart before I fall.

"Kael, are you okay?" Mara asks, looking at me with concern.

"I did not eat," I say, trying to sound normal.

She folds her arms. "You never eat."

"I will survive."

Before she can ask me questions, some new donors come in, so Mara goes to greet them and I use the distraction to slip away.

By the time I get to the storage room, I am sweating from another wave of heat and a sharp pain in my back. My muscles lock up, forcing me to grab the wall to stay upright.

I stumble into the bathroom, lock the door, and splash water on my face. My hands keep shaking.

I pull up my sleeve and take a deep breath.

I smell lilies.

My blood runs cold. I search all my pockets, but I do not have any more pills or any money.

There is a knock on the door. "Kael, are you okay?" Mara asks.

"I am fine," I say, trying to sound normal.

"You do not sound fine."

"I just need a minute."

There is a pause. "Do you want me to call someone?"

"No, please do not let anyone come in."

There is another pause. "Okay," she says. "If you need help, just ask."

I wait until she goes away. If anyone smells the lilies, I am dead.

The minutes drag on as I fight the urge to run. The clinic feels smaller with every vampire who walks through the door. The rain and the disinfectant are the only things hiding my scent.

***

When the clock finally strikes four, I go back to the reception desk. "I am going home."

Mara looks at me with concern. "You look terrible. You should stay home tomorrow."

I try to smile. "My landlord does not accept excuses."

She shakes her head. "One day you will work yourself to death."

"If I am lucky."

I go out through the staff entrance before she can say anything.

The freezing rain soaks through my hoodie. For the first time, I welcome it.

Most of the market has closed. I turn toward the old subway entrance, following the route I always take home.

Tonight feels different.

The rain is loud, making it hard to hear anything else. There are no arguments from the windows and no stray dogs; the silence feels wrong.

I slow down. Someone is behind me.

I hadn't heard footsteps.  I kept my eyes ahead and hurried forward, hoping they would pass by me.

They did not.

A strong wind blew through the alley carrying the smell of booze.

Before I could run, a rough hand grabbed my arm and yanked me backward.

My backpack slipped from my shoulder.

My back slammed into a brick wall, driving the air from my lungs as a heavy arm pinned me across the chest.

"Take it easy," a rough voice said, showing broken teeth through a smile. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

The man smelled of booze, fake blood, and cigarette smoke. His eyes were red, and his hair was greasy.

I pushed against his chest. "Let me go."

He did not move much. "I have seen you around the clinic," he said, squeezing my arm harder. "You are a quiet guy, always cleaning."

"You have got the wrong person."

"Maybe." His smile got bigger. "Maybe I do not."

I hit my shoulder against him and tried to turn to get free, but his fingers grabbed my throat and pinned my head back against the brick wall.

"You smell different tonight," he said.

My pulse slams against my ribs. The blocker. Please, no.

He leaned closer, his face beside my neck. He breathed in, trying to smell something, then he frowned and breathed in again, slower this time, trying to smell past the rain, the booze, and the wet clothes.

Then he found it.

Lilies.

The man froze.

His smile disappeared. He looked like he could not believe it as his red eyes got bigger and his grip on my throat got tighter.

"Impossible," he whispered. He breathed in again and let out a harsh laugh. "I found you," he said.

Greed replaced the disbelief in his eyes.

"A Pure Omega."

Every muscle in my body locked.