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Broken Souls

Page 8

by Jade M. Phillips


  But now that I lived and was granted a second chance, I had a whole new slew of questions, ones which I was certain would take time to answer. I was starting my life over again, but this time I was an Unfortunate, a creature damned to earth for all eternity. The monstrous notion reminded me of what Guy had said that night outside the mission. His words I would never forget.

  This could be a blessing, Faith. This could be your path to right every wrong. This could be your redemption.

  My heart pained that I would never see him again, but I needed to let go and move on like he had. Or had he? Now that he held a bond to me, would he live a life full of pain which was not his own? I looked down to find myself gripping the rosary Guy had given me, the point of the cross nearly cutting through my skin. I dropped my hands to my sides and relaxed my shoulders. I was here and this… place was now my home. I needed to come to terms with that and be thankful I still lived.

  I took a deep breath to reel myself back in and lifted the bottom of my shirt to reveal the band of my pajama pants. From there, I slid out the only tokens I possessed from my human life; the picture of my family and the letter from Frank. I resisted the urge to read the letter again for the heart-wrenching words were already permanently etched in my brain. I put the letter aside and focused on the photo. I gazed into my mother’s bright eyes and my father’s smiling face, my insides aching. But strangely enough it was not them whom I ached for most. It was Guy.

  “Ugh,” I huffed. “Pull it together, Ruby.” I would never see him again and I needed to get over it. Yet again, I shook the unwanted notion from my head and placed the picture and letter beneath my cot. I opened my mouth to yawn but was interrupted when Orie padded down the stairs with a blanket in hand. He crossed the room and held it out to me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s a little tattered, but it’s warm.” The presence of the young werewolf made me smile. Something about him that made me feel comfortable and at home.

  “It’s perfect,” I said, reaching out to take the soft blanket. I set it on my lap and noticed Orie scanning the cellar, his yellow irises glowing in the dark.

  “It’s not much, but it will keep the light out.”

  “It’s great, Orie, really. Thank you.” After being on the run and shifted around like old hand-me-downs for the past couple of weeks, it was nice to finally have a place of my own, even a musty old cellar.

  “You’re probably used to living underground anyway, or in a coffin,” Orie mused. “Being a vampire and all.”

  “Honestly,” I replied. “I’m not used to any of this. I don’t even know how to be a proper vampire.”

  His gaze landed on me in disbelief. “Really? I think you did quite well back at the Crystal Palace with those idiots. You’re probably the strongest vampire I’ve ever seen.”

  I giggled at the compliment, remembering my own shock at how far I could throw a full-grown werewolf. “Thanks,” I said.

  “I’ve always been intrigued by vampires,” Orie said, shifting his stance. “How they can survive on only blood and with no sunlight. And the whole living forever thing is pretty cool too.”

  “I guess so.” I fidgeted with the fringe on the edge of the blanket.

  “So you’re a Newborn then?” he asked, plopping himself down on the dirt next to my cot. Even though I wasn’t cold, I tucked the blanket tight around my feet, reveling in the comfort of the material on my toes.

  “Yes,” I answered. “I was turned only a couple of weeks ago though it feels like forever. But I’m still getting used to my own body. It’s like learning how to drive a stick shift when you’re used to automatic.”

  Orie laughed, his eyes full of life and joy.

  “What about you?” I asked. “I don’t know anything about werewolves. Were you born that way or did someone make you?”

  “Oh no, I wasn’t turned like you were,” Orie replied with a smile. “I was born this way.” He gestured to the upstairs and continued. “Our father was a werewolf but our mother was not. It’s a luck of the draw type thing. Jax and I turned out to have the gene but our sister didn’t.”

  “I see,” I nodded. “Where is your sister now?”

  “She lives with our mother in the human world but I don’t know where they are. My father sent them away because it was getting too dangerous to be around us. The humans were out to get us and father tried to protect Jax and I. But when they ambushed our home, we escaped and he didn’t make it. That’s how we ended up here.”

  A pang of sadness sliced through me, too close to home for my liking. I knew all too well what it was like to be separated from family. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Orie waved a dismissive hand. “Oh it’s all right. I don’t remember much of it anyway. I was just a small boy when it all happened.” Orie leaned forward, picking at a place in the dirt, and I studied the young man’s face. I had yet to see him in his wolf form, but my senses and his yellow eyes told me that’s exactly what he was. My curiosity peaked.

  “So… I’ve only seen a werewolf in his wolf form twice and I’m not really sure how that happens. Can you control when you change?”

  Orie picked up a pebble and tossed it aside. He turned his golden gaze to me. “Sometimes yes. Sometimes no. Werewolves always transform when it’s a full moon, that’s a certainty. Other than that, it has to do with emotion. I sometimes have trouble controlling myself when I get angry, but Jax says I’m getting better at it.”

  “I completely understand,” I said, laughing. “I can barely control my anger, let alone my fangs.” I chalked it up to primal reaction, imagining it was the same for him.

  “Well, I’d better get to bed.” Orie stood and brushed the dust from his pants. “I have to report for guard duty just after sunset.”

  “Thanks again Orie,” I said, “For everything.”

  He smiled. “No problem.” He climbed up the stairs and shut the hatch, casting the cellar into pitch black.

  I lay down flat on the cot and closed my eyes, hardly having time to wonder what life would be like in my new home before exhaustion pulled me into sleep. And in sleep, the shadows of the man I loved whirled through my dreams.

  THIRTEEN: RUBY

  I awoke in the dark cellar to my stomach rumbling, trying to recall the last time I’d fed. When realizing it hadn’t been since the goat’s blood at Wilson’s ranch house weeks ago, that led me to wonder how long I could actually go without drinking blood. And furthermore, where did the vampires here get their blood from to begin with. Obviously they had blood here, for I was offered it every day, but except for the poor woman at The Bird Cage Theater, I hadn’t seen any humans around and I prayed my ominous blood slave duty had nothing to do with it— but I suspected it probably did. I ignored my growing hunger and took a deep breath, needing to ready myself for the coming night. I sensed the darkness outside and would have to report for duty soon.

  I climbed from my makeshift bed and took the stairs up to the cellar door. I lifted the hatch and poked my head out into the kitchen. A tarnished candelabra sat in the middle of the table, its glow flickering throughout the room. The burnished light from the sunset leaked through the shabby window blinds and Orie sat at the table with a plate full of food in front of him.

  “Good morning!” he exclaimed, his golden eyes glistening. He laughed. “Or… good evening, rather.”

  “Good evening, Orie.” I climbed the rest of the way out and shut the cellar door.

  “I’m still getting used to the curfew,” Orie said as he shoved a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. I then remembered Cloe explaining that even the werewolves and witches had to abide by the curfew and slept during the day as the vampires did.

  “It was different before?” I asked, hiking up the pajama pants that insisted on making their way to the floor for being so big.

  “Yes,” he murmured from behind a mouthful of roasted chicken. “We used to be allowed to roam during daylight hours. But not long ago, orders came down fr
om the Patriarch insisting everyone keep the same schedule. Except, of course, for a few werewolves who keep guard during the day to make sure there are no intruders. It’s for safety reasons. Word is, FUSE has been even more active than usual lately.”

  “Oh,” I replied, trying to hide my guilty reaction. The word FUSE immediately had me thinking of Guy.

  I wondered where he was at that moment and what he was doing. I hoped the torment of his bond to me didn’t affect him too badly. I hoped he could live out his life happily and forget all about me. But that was a double standard, because no matter how long I lived, I would never forget my savior; the man who had my heart.

  “Have a seat.” Orie patted the chair next to him. “I was just about to come wake you. This was delivered here for you a few minutes ago.” Orie pointed to a jug of blood on the table. Human blood. I grimaced, but my stomach rumbled loudly in response.

  “Thank you.” I took the seat next to him and looked around the empty house. The tiny kitchen held old turquoise appliances and dry wooden cabinetry that lined the ceiling. It reminded me of my Grandmother’s house. She’d died when I was very young and I didn’t remember much of her. Reflections of my Grandmother fled when I noticed the silence of the house. “Where’s Jax?”

  Orie took a swig from a chipped mug. “Jax has been busy lately. There’s a call for heightened security and the legion is now holding daily meetings down at Vampire Hall. They’re also planning a scouting mission and Jax is in charge of those. We’re running low on supplies and the vampires need more humans.”

  My gut clenched. “More humans?”

  Orie took another gulp of water, studying what probably resembled a terrified look on my face.

  “Yes,” he said tentatively. “You do know that’s how vampires survive, right?”

  My cheeks flushed. “Yes, of course… it’s just…”

  I eyed the jug of blood on the table and my stomach rumbled yet again. I thought back to the one time I’d tried human blood after Guy and I robbed the blood bank, and could almost taste the metallic nastiness on my tongue. But I’d never swallowed it, only spitting it back out in disgust. I didn’t know if it was just in my head, but the idea of drinking the stuff made me ill. Orie followed my gaze to the jug.

  “Have you never drank human blood before?” Orie asked. “You said you were on blood slave duty?”

  “Yes.” I made a face, having the sneaking suspicion where this conversation was going and it made me queasy. Orie studied me tentatively.

  “You do realize your job will be to take care of the humans, blood slaves if you will, that supply your kind with their blood?”

  I shifted in my seat, my insides squirming uncomfortably at his admission. “So… they keep humans here as slaves?” I asked.

  Orie nodded, his expression darkening. “It is quite sad, really. The vampires aren’t bothered by it, of course. But I know for a fact the witches and the werewolves find it an uneasy situation.”

  I let my mind wander to the dark concept of having slaves and found it incomprehensible. I knew being a vampire wouldn’t be easy, but it was proving damn near impossible. Unaware of my inner torment, Orie stood and set his plate in the sink.

  “You’d better drink up and get changed. I’m to take you to meet Cloe at Big Nose Kate’s. There are some clothes set out for you in the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I nodded and Orie disappeared into one of the rooms in the tiny house. I studied the blood before me but couldn’t bring myself to drink it. I’d have to find another way.

  I stood and went to the bathroom, finding an old black dress and petticoat laid out on the counter with a cream pair of pantaloons. Beside them sat an old pair of lace-up brown boots and stockings. I giggled at the old-style clothes imagining myself looking like a gothic cowgirl as I put them on.

  I came out to find Orie waiting for me. He wore jeans and a button-up flannel. A star-shaped pin hung on his shirt, one I assumed signified him as a member of security.

  “M’lady,” he said in a terrible British accent, offering his arm like a gentleman. I giggled, taking his proffered arm as we exited the front door.

  Orie escorted me through town, the streets bustling with people, their eyes following us as we went. I ignored the stares, realizing that even in my new Victorian garb I was still being eyed like some weirdo cat lady with a bird’s nest in her hair. I shrugged it off, figuring it was probably something I’d have to get used to, and followed my guide into Big Nose Kate’s Saloon, the aromatic smells of food and herbs clinging thick to the air.

  Werewolves and witches sat at round tables awaiting their meals while women scurried behind the bar taking orders and filling drinks. Orie spotted Cloe at the end of the long bar top and I followed him to her. She piled plates onto a rolling wooden cart and I noticed she still had a nasty-looking gash on her lip that Horus gave her. I wondered why she hadn’t healed herself. Wasn’t that one of the perks of being a vampire?

  Cloe turned and, when seeing Orie, her face flushed as pink as a poppy. The way they stared at each other was anything but formal or unfamiliar and it was clear they knew each other well. Their gazes met and it was as if time stood still, like they were the only two people in the whole place.

  Thinking of Guy who I could never be with made me smile yet hurt all at the same time, but I shrugged away my sorrow, the dark reality of my situation growing heavy as I gazed upon the two lovers. I wondered how Cloe’s maker, Horus, felt about her affections for the young wolf. But the way her eyes darted away nervously told me theirs too was a forbidden love.

  “Ready for guard duty?” Cloe asked nonchalantly as she carefully stacked more plates on top of each other. She made sure to avert her gaze away from him.

  “Ready as ever,” Orie beamed, but his smile melted when he saw her gashed lip. “What is that?” He reached out to touch her face and she abruptly jerked away. “What has that… blood-sucker done to you now?” Anger layered Orie’s voice, his face reddening by the second.

  “Stop it,” Cloe breathed, continuing her work. “Just let it be.”

  “No,” He gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Look at me.”

  Her downcast gaze drifted upwards, her eyes glistening with tears.

  “That son of a bitch,” Orie cursed. “I’m going to have a talk with him.”

  “Idiot,” she snapped, ripping away from him. Her voice then lowered to a harsh whisper. “People can hear you. Do you wish me dead, or yourself for that matter? Leave it be Orie.”

  Cloe turned her attention to me and nodded me over, indicating I help her stack plates which held piles of mush.

  “Just because he is a legion leader doesn’t mean he can treat you this way,” Orie grumbled. “It isn’t right.”

  “I made a mistake,” Cloe replied, keeping herself busy. “And I won’t do it again.”

  Orie watched us work for a moment. “I swear, if he does it again…”

  “Orie!” Cloe yelped. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

  Orie studied the young female vampire for a while longer before turning and storming from the saloon.

  “God,” Cloe exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “You’d think he was short a few brain cells.”

  “He obviously cares for you,” I said, shrugging, and grabbed a handful of spoons laid out for us. I wished I had someone who cared about me like that.

  “He’s too caring for his own good,” she murmured.

  “Does Horus know?” I asked and Cloe shot me a startled glance. But after a few moments, she turned away as if I hadn’t said anything at all.

  “I… I mean about you two?” I stuttered, realizing I may have overstepped my bounds. And by the look in her eyes, I knew I’d hit the nail on the head. She loved Orie, but it was obviously a touchy subject and I shouldn’t have mentioned it.

  Cloe steeled herself and pulled her brown hair behind her shoulders. “There’s nothing for him to know.” She put the last plate on t
he cart and started toward the doors. I followed her outside. “Orie is just a friend,” she continued. “I’ve watched him grow since he was a young wolf.”

  “He seems to think differently,” I smiled.

  Cloe stopped and looked at me, her face full of emotion. Her nose twitched when she spoke. “Even if there was something there, it could never be. Horus is my maker. I’m bonded to him and not allowed to be with anyone else.”

  I empathized with her, the sadness of her situation hitting home with me. But what I couldn’t understand was how she managed to be with such a horrid creature as Horus and not go completely mad.

  “You know, I have the same problem,” I admitted. “Loving someone I can never be with.”

  Cloe glanced my way, her eyes brimming with curiosity.

  I looked down at my boots remembering the warmth of Guy’s smile, the safety of his embrace. Sad shivers ran across my body. “Yes. He sacrificed everything for me and saved my life. But now that I’m this… this creature, it just cannot be.”

  Cloe slid me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” I reached down and touched my rosary. It rested against my chest beneath the material of my dress. “I just need to have faith that maybe one day things will be different. And whether I can be with him or not, I hope he finds true happiness.”

  Cloe slid me a dubious look as though I said something weird. She tensed her shoulders. “Come on. We need to get this food down to the Shelter.”

  Her quick shift in temperament had me wondering what I’d said that struck her so odd, but before I could say another word Cloe hustled down the wooden sidewalk, the cart’s wheels squeaking as she went. I rushed to catch up.

  “The Shelter. Is that where they keep the humans?” I asked, wariness gripping my chest. “The blood slaves?”

 

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