Carmiabell: The Black Apple

Chapter 3

Why would an exalted billionaire's son board a public train?

The last time I checked-literally-his father owned one of the major levitating dust companies. That meant they had a ridiculous amount of income, so he and his son only commuted in private, sleek levitating wagons. Not to mention how rare and exclusive those rides were.

So, unless he was planning to suck someone's blood-because, honestly, he could've been out hunting for a midnight snack-I couldn't fathom why he'd deny himself the pleasure of traveling luxuriously. Who wouldn't prefer to drown in a soft symphony of tranquil orchestra music rather than endure the clamor of the train? And the smell-oh, the pungent stench of creatures who clearly needed what I like to call a s-h-o-w-e-r, if they even understood what that meant.

It all made perfect sense, except he wasn't exactly feasting on flesh-and-blood sauce for breakfast. The last time I saw, he was munching on that bland vampire food: some mix of artificial blood blended from red fruits, tree leaves, sea-salty water, and mashed organic cereals. Technically, he was a vegetarian. How... interesting.

But hey, I wasn't stalking him-no, definitely not. Okay, maybe just a little. Who wouldn't want to know a few tantalizing details about the hottest guy in school? I was practically doing a public service here.

Oh my God, he was staring at me. I had no idea palms could sweat like this when they weren't even gripping anything. Note to self: the body is full of surprises.

I tried to keep calm, eyes locked on the empty backrest of the seat in front of me. Way to ignore him, Carmiabell.

"Hey, Algebra," he called, his voice breaking the silence after what felt like a small eternity of his gaze.

Wait... did he just call me "Algebra"? Did he actually think my identity revolved around twisted numbers and their treacherous accomplice-letters?

"Did you just call me Algebra?" I finally summoned the courage to face him, but as soon as our eyes met, all my bravado melted like jelly left in the sun.

Why did the gods have to flaunt such a creature here, in my math class of all places? As if the subject itself wasn't enough torment.

Those arched eyebrows, those full, symmetrical lips-a perfect shade of rose pink-and a nose sculpted like marble. And that unruly hair... he looked like he'd stepped right out of a fairy tale-a high prince from some golden castle.

"Yeah," he replied with a shameless grin that could make an angel fall. I had to admit; that smile could lead anyone astray, and I'd never been so tempted.

"What?!" I tried to make my eyebrows form a V, aiming to look irked and shocked at the same time. Spoiler alert: my acting skills were as sharp as a dunderhead's.

"Your name is too long. What is it again, Camdbidel?" His tone was teasing, and it was as if he knew precisely how to get under my skin.

First, "Algebra" has only three fewer letters than Carmiabell... sure, my name was long, but that didn't give him the right to equate it to my least favorite math subject.

Second, Camdbidel isn't even a real name.

And third, how did he even know my name, or at least its general shape? At least he did-that meant I'd somehow surfaced from his shadows.

I fought off the urge to breakdance in premature celebration and maintained my ridiculous poker face.

"No, it's not. And how do you even know my name?" The question slipped out before I could stop it.

"Ooh, you mean Algebra? From when you volunteered to do that math question on the board, but, well, you failed." He emphasized "you failed" with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Ouch. Hearing that-especially from him-stung.

That was from freshman year, and all I'd done was make a fool of myself.

"My name is Carmiabell, not Algebra. And I only failed because the teacher was trying to prove a point."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. "Okay, Algebra, and what point was that?"

What part of MY NAME IS CARMIABELL did he not understand?

"I am Carmiabell, not Algebra! And he wanted to show that the answer should be written in power form, not as a single letter!"

The heat was about to rise higher when a black leather coat suddenly blocked my view of him. Told you, Monday trains were no joyride. Some creatures were forced to stand. How disgraceful that a demigod's face vanished from my sight.

Oddly, something about arguing with him left me feeling warm. Was I losing it? How could an argument make me feel light instead of vexed? One-way ticket to Lunatic Town, please!

"Is he your boyfriend?" Phoebi, who had miraculously stayed silent until now, piped up, clearly eavesdropping.

"No!" I said it loud enough for him to hear.

I'd been rehearsing for that moment my entire high school life, and yet, here I was, relishing an argument with him. In some strange way, it felt almost... human. Perhaps I'd overrated his intelligence.

Or maybe I was just his latest target. I needed to make it clear my blood would taste like rotten rat poison before he got any closer to my neck.

"Is he your crush?"

"Ew, no, no, no!" I tried to make my voice sound disinterested, hiding any hint of intrigue. "He's disgusting."

"I don't think so. You two could make the worst couple," Phoebi continued, rolling her eyes. "Who needs another great war?"

Ouch. Motivator of the year, clearly.

The levitating train began to hum as it took off, rocking a few of the standing passengers.

It had a way of gliding smoothly across the sky, so only the takeoff and landing were bumpy.

As it rose above the city, even the tallest buildings shrank beneath us, transforming the world below into a miniature village I could crush with a snap of my fingers.

Dawn painted the town in hues of gold, bringing life and color to everything it touched.

Flowers were everywhere in Southern Ellialand. If they weren't on balconies, they climbed the eaves of buildings. Pink flowers stood out most, though my favorite lanera flowers were rare.

From the colorful tiled roofs to the smoking chimneys, from birds soaring through the skies to griffins in flight-honestly, Southern Ellialand was astonishing.

In the distance, nature lay in peaceful stillness: lush trees, cascading waterfalls, meandering streams, and soft hills that made the countryside a perfect summer retreat.

I couldn't imagine living anywhere else.

My conversation with Damon played on a loop in my head, replaying how it could have gone-or should have gone.

Did I mention that I smiled at myself? I couldn't help it.

For a moment, I completely forgot about the black apple tucked away in my bag.

If anyone saw it, people on the train five thousand feet above ground would prefer flying, even though none of them had wings.

Some would kill each other over nothing.

The psychopaths would turn us all into corpses.

And vampires would drain us dry. There was a strict no-blood-sucking policy in Ellialand, but everyone knew the rules went out the window when the world was ending. And the black apple was definitely a sign.

It might be my last day to see daylight-or worse, my last day on trial in the heart of Ellialand-if I even made it off this train.

With all of Phoebi's chatter, I could only imagine how long the secret would last. I'd barely known her for a blink, and she already knew the name of my cousin's long-dead rabbit.

I pulled my bag close, hugging it against my chest.

There was no safe haven with hell in your backpack. I'd have to keep it close until the end of the day.