Broken Souls

by Jade M. Phillips

  SEVEN: GUY

  I shifted my body on the splintery bench and stretched out against the rough brick wall of my cell. My stomach growled and I found myself thinking I’d give anything for a cheeseburger at the moment. Yet, apparently the only thing on the menu for prisoners was a cup of chicken broth followed by a course of swift-kick-to-the-head for dessert. I groaned, my sore muscles aching from being kept in the same place for so long. My cracked lips stung from sweat, my ankles chafed from the chains, and dried blood crusted my face. Even the werewolf guard outside of my cell— the one with bad hygiene and an overactive salivary gland, couldn’t compare to the unsightly mess I’d become.

  After being fed a bit of soup from Cloe and finally regaining some of my strength, I expected the vampire leader to return at any moment with his female lackey and torture me like they had the night before. But countless hours of solitude passed and no one showed, the darkness and dank smell of werewolf body odor being my only companion. I wondered why they hadn’t come, but reasoned it was one of their tactics to make me break, keep me on edge, and more importantly, keep me alive— or at least for the time being that is. In all honesty, I couldn’t blame them. It’s what I would do if I had a prisoner I needed information from.

  Unfortunately, exhaustion pulled at me like a vice grip and I felt I could lay down and sleep for days on end. But as soon as my heavy lids began to close, I forced them back open, determined —when physically able— to make use of my time in between the beatings.

  I studied my surroundings and made a mental list of information. From what I gathered, the roof was thin and ready to burst from the stain in the ceiling and there was a second floor above. I pondered how I might bust through that ceiling, but it was at least twelve feet high and I was, for all intents and purposes, chained to the wall— which would make any escape attempt rather difficult. I sighed, thinking that other than the flimsy roof, there was only one way in and out of my cell— the large metal sliding bars that were perpetually locked. One good thing, if you could call it that, was there was only one werewolf guard stationed outside. He would trade shifts with another guard twice a day, just after sundown and right before sunrise.

  And only one person had the key to unlock my cell; Cloe, the young female vampire with the small nose and brown hair. She would bring me my food and water once a night, and for some reason she was trusted to do so amongst the vampires. I couldn’t help but notice how young she was, indicating that she hadn’t fully lost her sense of humanity— a small shadow of hope if nothing else. Plus, Cloe had made the mistake of naming the vampire leader Horus. Though meager in the grand scheme of things, I now had a one-up on my captor. I’d take anything I could get.

  Aside from gathering pertinent information, I’d been trying to connect with Ruby while within my cell. She couldn’t sense me because she’d never drank my blood, but it felt as though she sat right there with me. At times, her fear radiated so thick it made my insides burn with frustration and anger. I wanted to smash my chains against the brick wall and shatter them. I wanted to go to her.

  Also through my bond, I could feel she was close, possibly in the same town if my guess was right, and I sensed she was not being welcomed with ease. Something was wrong and I couldn’t ignore it. The next time I saw Horus my first instinct would be to demand information on Ruby. I wanted to know she was safe and being treated properly. But the only thing I could do to keep her safe was to keep her secret. I could not let them know about us, how I cared for her, and what’s more, the fact that we even knew each other in the first place. If that happened, we’d both be dead by sunrise. I figured I would likely die in this place anyhow, and I would do so bravely, keeping the safety of my love locked up deep within me.

  I also couldn’t help but think of the vow I’d given to Ruby, and how I was supposed to have gone back to headquarters to help her father escape, or in the least, encourage him to be an associate. But now after so long, I wasn’t sure he’d even be alive anymore, the thought crushing me because I knew it would crush Ruby too. I just had to cling to the hope that Frank would change his mind and agree to be an associate, therefore ensuring he kept his life. I shook my head from the thought, knowing there was nothing I could do about it now.

  All I could do was ensure that I protect Ruby, the only light in my life. I hoped she’d have an effect on the other Unfortunates and that her innocence and purity would shine through. I hoped she’d help them to see the error of their ways. But in all honesty, it was an unlikely possibility.

  A more likely scenario was she would be swayed by their ways, losing all of her humanity in time. She would grow more fearsome and her hunger insatiable. She would eventually lose the color in her eyes and the pureness in her heart.

  That’s what happened to most vampires.

  But I wouldn’t allow myself to believe Faith would be that way. I couldn’t believe that she’d ever be fully pulled into the darkness. Her will remained stronger than any I’d seen, and her ambition and courage was undeniable. Her caring and loving soul was raw and pure.

  She was different and that was what I loved about her. My heart ached to be with her, to comfort her and hold her head against my chest. I needed to be strong for not only myself, and not let Wilson’s death be in vain, but I needed to be strong for Ruby. It was her life I held in the palm of my hand and I’d never forgive myself if I were the cause of her demise.

  “Captain Stone?” A soft voice called to me from the darkness, emerging me from my reverie.

  I pulled the scratchy blanket over my lap.

  The image of Cloe came before the metal bars, with a soft glow of candlelight. She unlocked the cell door and slipped inside with a wooden tray in one hand.

  “I have more soup for you. And water.”

  “Thank you.” I managed to keep my manners at the forefront with Cloe. There might be something she could provide me with and I needed to form a friendship with her.

  “You look better today,” she whispered.

  Cloe knelt down and sat the tray on the bench next to me. My eyes lowered to her lips and a gash slicing right through the meat of them, swollen and bloody. I furrowed my brows in confusion. Vampire’s bodies were wired to heal themselves, especially with such small flesh wounds.

  “What happened?” I asked instinctively. “Are you all right?”

  If at all possible, Cloe’s face turned even whiter than it already was. It was obvious she was shaken by my question, but her expression quickly dismissed it. She didn’t answer.

  “Why haven’t you healed yourself?” I asked, ignoring the food on the plate next to me. Famine gnawed at my insides, but any communication I could get was more important than eating. A connection to this vampire might result in more information.

  Cloe stood abruptly and brushed the dust from her skirt with her hands. “I… I shouldn’t talk to you.”

  “Is this what will happen to you if you talk to me?” I asked, gesturing to her mouth with my chin.

  Cloe averted her gaze but didn’t disagree with my assumption.

  “Were you given a suppressant?”

  In my life-long dedication to FUSE, I’d studied every aspect of vampires. I knew there was a certain drug that could be given to them to prevent their healing because we’d regularly use it when holding prisoners. And in her current state, I was positive Cloe had been given that drug. Again, she did not answer my question, instead taking the blanket from my lap and replacing it with a new, clean one.

  “Who did this to you?” I prodded.

  Again, no answer.

  “Was it Horus?”

  Cloe’s eyes shot to mine. She spoke in a forced whisper. “You mustn’t say a word. He’ll do worse to me if he knows I’ve spoken to you.”

  “You don’t have to live like this,” I explained as gently as possible. “You can leave this place. I can help you.” Contemplation marred her face and she looked as though she let my words roll around in her head. I took advantage and continued
.

  “I’m sure there are others here who feel the same way as you. Others who want to escape.”

  The young vampire’s face changed immediately, hard lines creasing her brow. “No. This is my home, and you are sorely mistaken if you think I’d ever want to leave.” She stuffed my old blanket under her arm and turned away. “Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do.”

  “Have faith,” I said, and she hesitated. “Have faith you can be happy one day. I can see in your eyes you are still young and haven’t fully lost your compassion. Your humanity.”

  Cloe gave me one last glance before closing the bars with a clang. I was certain our conversation was over until she spoke softly from the other side. And the words that came from the vampire’s mouth were not from a place of threat, but one of concern and warning. “Rest up, Captain Stone. You have yet to endure the worst.”

  EIGHT: RUBY

  My hands trembled in fear as I stood in front of the legion, my pulse racing like a pack of wild horses. I felt like I was on some twisted reality show, standing in front of a panel of judges, and if I didn’t sing the right tune, a loud buzzer and a big red X would interrupt my song. But this wasn’t a show or singing competition. This was my life, and my fate lie solely in their hands.

  The interrogation went on for what seemed like an eternity. They asked the same questions over and over, but in different ways with different wording. And my only hope of survival —the red-headed vampire named Pandora— could care less of the situation. But I reasoned I’d done all I could by giving her the code word Nora. Now I had to await my fate.

  I was asked, yet again, another slew of questions, the small gambling room in which I stood seemingly closing in on me. Sweat beaded my forehead, yet I stuck firm to my story and answered diligently, though my insides squirmed with uncertainty. My stomach flip-flopped inside of me, starting to clench with pangs of hunger. I hadn’t eaten in days, weeks even, and just when I thought my queasiness would get the better and I would lose the contents of my stomach— which was nothing really— Horus spoke up.

  “And one more time, please explain how you alone escaped the ambush when all other vampires and witches were killed?”

  Terror gripped my heart and I steadied my shaking hands by grabbing the sides of my jeans. The faces of the legion— Jax, Morin, and Horus— studied me, judging whether or not I should be deemed fit to live as one of them or be burnt to a crispy critter by the sun. A smug grin formed on Horus’ face as though he was about to catch me in a lie, and I couldn’t help thinking how much I despised him. I inhaled slowly and began.

  “As I said before,” I paused for a moment for emphasis. “I was in a ditch, I covered myself with dirt, and the soldiers left.”

  “Why do I not smell any human blood on you?” Jax, the werewolf leader asked, his nose in the air as if he were sniffing me. “Have you not fed since you turned?”

  “Gah!” Horus belted, bolting from his chair. He pointed directly at me with his long, thin finger. “She has been fed! Cloe brought her blood every night. See! I knew there was something off about her. She’s tricked us and has not been drinking the blood.”

  “Have you not been drinking the blood?” Jax chimed in, his golden eyes locked on mine, and I couldn’t help but notice them glowing in the dim lamp light.

  “I have been drinking it,” I lied, thinking I might be digging myself my own grave, but I was in too deep to turn back now.

  Horus opened his mouth to more than likely argue, but Morin placed a hand up and spoke first.

  “Let’s suppose you have been drinking the blood as you say. That still doesn’t explain how you survived since the Bisbee coven fell. Did you find someone to feed from before coming here?”

  “No.” I shook my head, thinking of the story Guy had made me memorize. I was to stick firmly to it and not, at any cost, tell them I’d fed from a vampire.

  “Yes!” Horus agreed, talking directly to Morin. “Before her arrival here, it had been about a week since the Bisbee coven fell when she was allegedly turned. She could not have survived that long without any human blood.”

  The other members considered his words and murmured accordingly. Horus sat down calmly, another ride on his bi-polar roller coaster. He turned to me, taking a long pull from his cigarette and let the smoke come out with his words. “Yes, baby vampire, tell us. How have you survived so long without drinking from a human?”

  I swallowed hard before answering, but kept my shoulders straight. I would not let that beast intimidate me. “I found sanctuary in an old mission. I lived off the blood of mice and rabbits.” I held my head up high, trying my best to be confident, but the glares I was receiving made it rather hard.

  I glanced over at Pandora for the hundredth time, seeking any sort of compassion or understanding. But Pandora was more interested in picking her nail than she was in me. According to Horus she was only an Overseer and had no involvement in the outcome of the proceedings. Of course, just another thread to add to my string of bad luck.

  “We’ve heard what you have to say,” Morin the witch spoke. “Now we must convene to make the decision.”

  “If the Patriarch were here he’d have killed her the minute she arrived,” Horus scoffed.

  “You don’t know that,” Morin countered. “For all we know her story is true and she is just as much a victim in the war with the humans as we are.”

  Yes, I thought. I am not your enemy. I started warming up to the old witch. If Pandora wouldn’t help me, maybe she would.

  “I don’t trust her,” Horus announced as if we hadn’t already been aware of that concept. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

  Morin ignored Horus’ comment and cleared her throat. “Well then. If you feel we’ve all made up our minds on the matter then it comes down to a vote.”

  The back of my skull throbbed and my mind whirled, thinking of the fact that my life hung on the decision of a death-breath vampire, an old witch, and a big, gnarly werewolf. Unbelievable. I’d already died in my human life and had, for some God-forsaken reason, been given a second chance by my real father. And now to have it possibly taken away? It was complete emotional torment, but I still clung to the shred of hope that I might have a chance. All I needed was two out of three.

  Morin cleared her throat again before speaking. “Everyone in favor of the Newborn keeping her life and living amongst us in the city of Tombstone, raise your hand.”

  No sooner had I reasoned no one would vote for my life and it was the end of me, the old witch smiled and raised her hand. I let out a breath.

  One more. I just needed one more.

  Horus hated me and would vote in favor of my death— that was certain— so I shifted my gaze to the werewolf, pleading silently. When his hand did not rise, my heart sank deeper.

  “All in favor of the Newborn being put to death, raise your hand.”

  Horus’ hand was up before the witch even finished speaking, and shortly after came the werewolf’s hand. My breath caught in my chest as Horus slammed his palms against the table and shot from his seat.

  “Well that does it. She will be hung from the gallows tomorrow night and await the rise of the sun.”

  Tears welled in my eyes and my heart ached inside of me. It wasn’t just the fact I was to be put to death that saddened me —I’d already witnessed death and knew what it entailed— but the fact I would never see Guy Stone’s face again or meet my father had me reeling.

  A drop of sweat ran between my shoulder blades as I thought about being burnt away by the big ball of fire in the sky, and my chest heaved with an unwanted sob. But before the pent-up cry left my mouth, Pandora stood and spoke flatly.

  “I object.”

  The room fell deadly silent. Horus, who was nearly out the door, stopped, frozen in place. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have said he was a vampire statue. But after a few tension-filled moments, he swiveled around, turning a fiery black gaze upon the red-head.

  “What did y
ou say?” His words came out like the warning hiss of a rattlesnake, and I couldn’t help my hopeful heart from swelling in my chest.

  Pandora finished picking at her nail and dropped her hands to her sides. Her emerald eyes glimmered as she looked upon Death Breath with the impassivity akin to a carrot being dangled in front of a lion. She shrugged.

  “I object.”

  “You can’t do that!” Horus barked, and his sharp tone caused me to flinch. “This is not a court of law, and you are no lawyer!”

  “Oh, yes I can,” Pandora replied slowly and calmly, never once offering me a glance. “And I just did.”

  I resisted the urge to laugh with joy, wanting to hug the crap out of Pandora, but thought better of it. I stifled a grin by biting my lip.

  “You are in no position to—”

  “I was granted the right of justice by the Patriarch,” she cut in. “You all know this. If I see an unfit decision has been made out of malice, I have the right to object. And that is exactly what I’m doing. I object.”

  Horus’ face twisted with blazing fury and his hands flung up into the air. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Those rules were made a hundred years ago and are outdated.”

  To my surprise, Jax stood up and interjected. “She has a point, Horus. I don’t like the Newborn any more than you, but the rules the Patriarch has instilled stand firm to this day.”

  Horus fisted his hands. “The Patriarch would change his mind if he were here. This does not constitute an objection!”

  Morin spoke up. “The Patriarch isn’t here and that is why we must regard his rules with respect and heed what he has laid out for us. That is how we have survived for so long.”