by J. McSpadden
Grabbing Camille's hand in a vice grip, Theo pulled her out of the room past Vesyon toward the main hall outside of headquarters. "Take Neeko with you," Vesyon instructed from behind their retreating forms. Theo nodded once, keeping his eyes forward as they moved, Neeko trailing behind sleek as a shadow.
"Theo," Vesyon called out just before they turned the corner. Theo stopped and turned, his shoulders tight, his brow creased in apparent tension. "Once you get through the vault exit, I'll meet you at the foothills east of the village, if it's not too late. If you get to the horses before I do, take Camille to White Wall."
"I will, Vee. I won't leave her side," Theo assured him.
Camille's gaze lingered on Vesyon's haunted expression, making a silent promise that it wouldn't be the last time she saw him.
Her knuckles were crushed in Theo's tight grip as they moved down the hall. She didn't mind the sharp pinch of his steel grasp as he rushed past the others in the compound; it allowed her to focus on something other than the chaos around them. Asperians pressed against them on all sides as the piercing alarm to evacuate wailed above them like a dying bird.
"Shouldn't we be helping them?" Camille asked.
"No, we don't have time."
"Well," Camille said in a flustered state. "We don't seem to be going the right way."
Theo didn't glance back as he ducked between two oncoming Rogues and headed down another long hallway. "We are. They're leaving, and we are going to the vault as Vesyon instructed," Theo replied, his voice dry and unemotional. She frowned at his profile, uncertain of his brusque attitude and if it was directed at her.
"Theo, wait." He didn't even turn to glance at her, his boots pounding out a cadence of rushed fervor against the tiled floor.
"Damn it, Theo, stop!" she finally said, yanking her hand out of his grasp. "I need to know what is going on! Please," she pleaded. "Vesyon might not trust me enough to tell me what's about to happen, but I need to know what I'm walking into. The King Regent showed up with more soldiers than we were prepared for, so I understand the confusion, but why in the name of Ma'Nada," she said in a rush, but Theo pulled her to the side of the flow of bodies before she could finish her sentence.
"Don't you get it, Camille? You and the villagers being here wasn't part of the plan. Vesyon screwed up, and Phillip ordered an emergency evacuation to get them out of here before...well, to get them to safety."
Camille scrutinized his expression, not wanting to believe what she was hearing. "Are you going to tell me what's actually going on then, or are you just going to jerk me around like a child? Like Vesyon does?"
"I'm not Vesyon," he growled.
"Oh? Could have fooled me."
"We don't have time for this," Theo snapped, his arms cinched against his chest in a wall of impenetrable frustration.
"I don't really care," Camille shot back at him standing her ground. "What isn't Vesyon telling me?"
Theo's lips pressed together, firm and unyielding as he glared at a spot just over her head.
"Not you too," Camille went on, her voice so incredibly soft that his eyes immediately snapped to hers in automatic apology. "Please don't keep me in the dark. You're right. You aren't Vesyon; you know you can trust me."
He didn't look away, but his mouth remained closed. It was Camille's undoing. Her chin dropped, a heavy sigh of exhaustion spilling out from between her lips. Looking down at her blood-slicked arms, covered in dirt and Chimera guts, Camille impulsively moved with the crowd of Asperians away from Theo. She didn't care if the evacuation was in order, didn't care how much or how little time they had to find Acher. She needed to get to her own room, needed silence, needed a moment to herself, needed a place to figure out what she was going to do.
Her feet carried her at a quick pace with the bustling flow of bodies toward the hall leading to her bedroom. Moving of its own accord, without her mind demanding the movement, her body felt unable to stop.
"Camille!" Theo barked, trying to keep up with her, pressing through the mash of bodies moving in behind her. "Come back!"
She shook her head, uncaring if he saw it or not, and continued to move. Her skin felt on fire with the desire to be clean. The weight of the past few days pressed into her flesh unyielding, crushing, and unstoppable; it was too much. And she was sick of it.
She ripped off her coat, vest, and shirt as she moved, uncaring that everyone in the hall could see her exposed upper body stark and naked through the thin undergarments she wore.
She careened into her door, slamming the metal with her bare fist, forcing the weight to swing on its hinges before it smashed against the inner wall with a dull thunk. She clawed at the blood-soaked undershirt, wrestling it away from her skin before tossing it onto the floor in a heap of blood and sweat with the rest of her discarded clothing. Her fingers shook with a burst of adrenaline as she yanked off her blood soaked pants, socks, and underwear. She felt tears stream down her cheeks unchecked and fiercely aggressive, though she couldn't be sure why she didn't try to stop them.
A sharp pang of desolation gripped her, stealing her breath and choking all warmth from her body. Homesickness, and the crash of adrenaline from seeing Metus blasted through her, causing her to double over, panting with the effort to breathe. Her blood felt thick, slugging through her system at a snail's pace.
How had this happened? One minute she was playing hide and seek in Sierra Village with the only friend she had ever known, and now she was preparing for battle as a Praetorian warrior? It was too much: the visions, the memories attacking her in all moments of weakness, the lies and deception, and to top it all off, the emotional tornado of both Theo and Vesyon.
She headed straight for the shower, her limbs slick with blood and dirt, her entire body weighed down with uncertainty. Vesyon's stern expression filtered in front of her eyes. It aggravated her to no end. He wasn't just keeping secrets from her, he'd been lying to her. If Metus had given her anything it was a seed of doubt. How was she supposed to trust Vesyon with her life if he couldn't even trust her with her own past?
Pressing her palms into the cavity of her eye sockets, she ground any image lingering in the black depths of her eyelids away. Seeing the swirl and mix of random color was preferable to everything she'd seen that day. Her head bent as she ducked into the shower, the spray of water a blissful balm. She moaned a sigh of relief as the heated pellets of water struck her tender flesh. Every fiber of her being hummed and yet her body began to tremble in the aftermath.
Methodically, she scrubbed at the blood and dirt until her skin was bright pink and raw, her fingers moving in quick motions to keep the shaking at bay. The kaleidoscope of gore from the past couple days melted off her body before slipping down the drain at her feet. She had no clue what to do, no desire to run or flee, and no understanding of what she was about to walk into. There was no clear sense of her emotional status concerning Vesyon or Theo, and to top it off, she had no damn soap.
Camille sighed, comforted in the small luxury of being alone as tears slipped down her reddened cheeks in a river of heat. Despite the chaotic wail of voices zooming past her door, the ever-approaching army just beyond the village gates, and the looming knowledge that she should be rushing to flee the compound, she didn't move. Or rather, Camille couldn't move. There was no purpose to her stationary reaction, but she couldn't, for the life of her, find the energy to leave the fiery hot spray of water. Instead of forcing herself back into the rush of the compound, she gave into the emotions bubbling up inside her, allowing the salty streams of water to flow freely down her cheeks.
***
Theo skidded to a halt at the end of the hall leading to Camille's room. The tiled floor was a mess of strewn items left behind by those rushing to evacuate, but Camille was nowhere to be seen in the mix of bodies racing out of their quarters. She had to be in her room, but he was uncertain he would be welcome.
The scorching expression of longing Vesyon had given her hadn't gone under Theo's radar
; something had happened between the two of them. He couldn't be sure of what or when that exchange had occurred, but the current of suppressed emotion had surged between them with Theo being nothing but a bystander. He would never admit it aloud, but Camille's heated anger toward Vesyon made him feel slightly better about his own standing with her.
The previous night hadn't precisely ended in the way he had hoped. He'd curtly dismissed her, not wanting to open the door to the emotions he'd shoved away so long ago. He'd had no right to push her though, to force their past on her assuming they'd jump back to where they'd left off. It had been eight years since he last saw her, but it didn't matter, not to him. It made no difference. She couldn't remember him or what they'd once been.
His mind flashed with the memories of their last night together in Whiskey Wharf before the massacre of Charlie Town. She had been in his arms, her wild copper hair draped over his forearm like fire upon his skin. He watched the crackle and burn of the tendrils glowing with a life of their own in the firelight of her room. It hadn't been the first night they'd found themselves in each other's arms into the early hours of the morning, but it had been the first time he'd ever voiced aloud his full desire for her.
"Cam, I love you," he'd said. It was so simple, almost effortless, the words forming on his lips most naturally.
She had smiled—the wide-open smile that made his heart ache with the need to press his lips to hers. "I know you do," she responded before burying her head back into the crook of his neck.
It was dangerous, what they were doing, not just physically but also emotionally. Camille and Theo had never made love but had come close, always stepping right up to the forbidden line between being Asperian and being an honorable Praetorian. It was against Praetorian law to give one's body over to another unless by order of the High King. The idea of procreation wasn't the problem; Praetorians were created sterile. It was the devotion, adoration, and physical desire for anything or anyone outside of the High King himself. Praetorians were designed to love, protect, and serve the kingdom. To do any of those things with another was considered treason.
The High King had his pick when it came to physical interaction with Praetorians. He could take as he pleased without any consequences. The control didn't stop there, however. Theo had been asked not just to kill innocent Asperians, but he had also been forced to lay with them, using his station and skills to extract information from them. It sickened Theo to the core, made worse in the moments he was alone with Camille. It was in her arms and wrapped in the emotional bonds of their love that he felt a deep surge of resentment for what the High King forced him to do.
Kissing her, holding her, even just touching Camille would be considered treason, but the realization of this didn't stop them. It was the only time they willingly gave affection to one another, the only time they denied the High King a say in their lives. Neither of them admitted it, but Theo felt the spark of their love ignite his own desperate need for freedom. He didn't just want to be free of the Crown, he needed to be open to love Camille in every way.
"It's not enough to just love you though," Theo had whispered in her ear. She hummed in response but kept her cheek pressed against his chest, unwilling to move, the chill of the room pressing them together, creating a cocoon of warmth. "I want more than words, Cam; I want you to be mine. I want to also be yours."
Her head lifted then, a flash of confusion running through the green of her irises, a soft pout playing on her still swollen lips. "I am yours," she replied quietly, not understanding his meaning.
Smiling, he kissed her forehead and pulled her back down to his chest. He knew if he waited to ask the moment would pass him by, and he'd never get the courage to ask her again. Despite the fire in Camille's heart for Aspera, he knew deep down she struggled with what the High King asked her to do. She followed her orders with strict adherence. He doubted aside of their nights lying next to one another that she did anything outside the lines of her Praetorian restrictions—even if she desperately wanted to.
"Marry me?" he said in a rush, his words running together in a jumble of sound. "Marry me and be all mine—mind, body, and soul?"
She giggled, turning her head again to face him. Bringing her lips to his, she kissed him soundly. Her hand lightly stroked his cheek, and he noticed the glossy wetness forming in her eyes.
"I'd love nothing more," she finally replied, her voice husky with emotion.
He had woken several hours later, his bed cold with her absence, a note scrawled in an apparent rush pinned to the pillow beside him.
I'm sorry, I think she's alive. I must find her. I love you, my darling.
He sighed, recalling the memory, his steps echoing on the tile floor as he walked to her room. That night had been the last time he'd seen her, the last time he'd held her and felt the reassurance of her heated skin against his.
He felt incredibly idiotic thinking about such things with Metus practically on their doorstep. He stood outside her door with a mere two hours to escape the compound. His focus needed to be on the present, not sliding into the past of long ago wishes and once real desires.
Neeko was waiting just outside her room, staring at the door jamb as though he could open it with the power of his mind. The cat's tail swished back and forth across the ground, his feline body a picture of impatient stillness.
"She in there?" Theo asked, almost expecting a verbal response.
Neeko peered up at him with a look of feigned patience. The yellowed irises narrowed with annoyance at having been shut out of her room, something Theo was sure he wasn't used to. The cat raised a single paw to scratch at the door, but nothing happened. He meowed and scratched at the door a second time with increasing insistence.
Theo opened the door cautiously, uncertain of what he was about to walk into. Neeko pressed into the room before the door was fully open, jauntily bouncing across the wooden floor to the empty bed.
"Cam?" Theo called out. Her clothing was strewn all over the floor, but she was nowhere in sight. The room wasn't just quiet; it felt still as though even the air had halted in movement.
A heavy sigh resonated from the bathroom as water pummeled the tile flooring within the shower. Theo's entire body seized up with guilty intrigue. It's not like he'd never seen her naked, but it had been quite a while, and his body responded in kind. The bathroom door was pushed closed, but not completely shut, leaving a full five inches of open space for him to peer into the hazy warmth.
It was wrong—he knew it was—but he couldn't deny the pull of holding her against him again. Feeling the spread of warmth as they clutched each other skin to skin. He took two steps towards the door, and Neeko meowed loudly from his perch on the bed.
"What?" Theo asked the stoic cat, whose tail swished madly against the comforter. The cat tilted its head to one side as Theo spoke, as though taking in his words and organizing them in his cat brain to understand Theo's meaning. "We are in a bit of a rush you know."
Neeko continued to stare silently, the yellow depths sharp with accusation.
"I just want to make sure she's ok," Theo whispered. He lifted his foot to move toward the door again, but Neeko meowed even louder, making Theo instead take several steps backward. The water in the shower turned off, and both of their heads snapped to the door frame.
The door to the bathroom slammed open making Theo jump in response. Steam billowed around her towel wrapped body, wild wet hair a tumble of fire about her bare milky white shoulders.
"Speak," she said without preamble. Theo knew what she wanted but had no clue how to begin. "I need answers, or I'm not going anywhere." Her cheeks were red, as were the rims of her eyes, but the storm of fierce determination whirled with menacing force in the mossy depths of her stare.
His mouth gaped open, then closed again, before opening a second time, only to remain wide without emitting a single sound.
"Would you mind?" Camille asked, motioning for him to turn around, which he obliged. His own cheeks fl
amed red, his body's deceiving nature showcasing his physical desire for her. She wasn't just wearing a towel, but a tiny one, barely skimming the tops of her thighs. Thankfully, he had a moment to collect himself.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." he blubbered, wildly groping for what to say to her. His mouth suddenly went dry, and he felt an overwhelming urge to slap himself in the face. What was wrong with him? He wasn't some love-sick puppy; he was a Praetorian for Ma'Nada sake!
She padded softly across the floor gathering her own freshly washed clothing from the bed. A gentle whoosh of cotton rushed through his ears and his skin prickled with goosebumps as he realized that she had just dropped the towel to the floor. It took every fiber in his body not to turn around and ravage her, throw her on the bed and be damned with the two hours they had left within the compound. Through all their Praetorian duties, the restrictive laws, and the High King’s demands, they'd never made love. Praetorians had been given no say over their own bodies. Neither of them was pure, but, more than anything, he'd wanted to share that moment with her. He would die a happy and thoroughly satiated Praetorian if he could have her that close to him just one time. Maybe twice.
"Talk," she clipped, as he heard her pull up her pants and button them closed. He shook his head aggressively to keep the images running through his mind from taking over.
"I'm not sure where to start."
She moved again, slipping a shirt over her shoulders. Theo heard the rustle of fabric as it shifted over her hair and across her skin. Feeling a pang of ridiculous jealousy, he suddenly felt desperate to be that piece of linen. He wanted to touch her, to feel the heat of her skin beneath his hand.
"Tell me why I'm here for starters."
He snorted, "I don't have the answer to that. Vesyon picked you up from Sierra Village; I had nothing to do with it."
Footsteps moved across the worn wooden planks, a whisper of motion stopping just behind him. A gentle hand pressed against the middle of his back between the shoulder blades and he tensed, not wanting to reveal the tornado of emotion raging just beneath the surface of his skin. He felt warmth flood the soft tissues around his eyes as blood pumped thickly through the heat of his veins. Dear Ma'Nada, I will toss her on the bed and rip off all her damn clothes, he thought, gripping his good intentions with tight desperation and mentally shaking himself of the thought.
