by Ryans, Rae
Maybe I didn’t love him now. How could I when I didn’t believe in the notion? But the future me had cared enough and the thought of Petre choosing death over me had sliced through my soul like a rusted nail.
Beneath the icy barriers, originally formed in the walls of the brothel, I’d come alive from his touch. His mouth, all those promises and words he’d spouted, were devoid of truth. In the dream, there was something he needed from me –what I hadn’t known. After he had earned whatever it was, then Petre left me for good.
His darkened soul had decayed into nothing but ashes. What he left behind scattered into the snowy winds of this free country. My legs grew weak in the nightmare, and I’d crumpled onto the wet ground. My hands had grasped at the fragments of Petre’s remains as I wept until I had gasped and wheezed for breath.
“Korri,” Petre said, and the vision dissipated. My mouth dropped to tell him off, but closed as the glass door slid open. His pale hand reached in and turned the water off. My teeth chattered, echoing in the small stall.
“Look at me.” No, I didn’t want to, and I didn’t want to chat either. My lip sandwiched between my teeth, and I bit down. “Damn it, Kor.”
He sighed and stepped into the stall, fully dressed. I chided myself for looking, but his dark snug jeans and tight t-shirt caught my attention. Too casual, even for Petre, and I couldn’t find any adornments or logos. He dressed like a slave.
He squatted down and drilled those grey eyes through me. Petre’s black hair hung half-loose, pieces framing his pale face. “Angel,” he said. That was what he continued to call me now. At first, I’d loved it, but now the meaning was lost in the sea of lies. “I’m not leaving you.”
My eyes rolled even as I bit my lip harder. Did he think I’d believe him? Fool me once … Jules used to say to the men that tried to screw with him. “Whatever,” I said. “It doesn’t matter.”
Petre winced at my words and recollected his emotions under the veil he always wore. Well, he tried, but his eyes betrayed him. I glanced away from his silvery gaze and chewed my lip, refusing to give in to the guilt trip. His hand reached toward my face, and I flinched, but he grabbed my cheeks anyway.
“It does matter; you can’t lie to me, remember?”
He was right, and I hated him more for that fact. The venomous words compounded on my tongue and spat into his face. “Why do you want to die? Why bother at all with me.” His chest heaved in a sigh; he dropped his hand and ran it through his hair, dragging it from the messy ponytail. “You want me to trust you? To not lie when you’re not honest with me? I’m here even after your display in the restaurant. Petre, I came back when anyone else would’ve kept running.”
Petre snorted and glanced away. “The contract,” he said.
I laughed, resting my head against the cold tile. “Is that why you think I came back?”
Petre’s dark brows rose. “Isn’t that the real reason you’re here?”
I gaped at him. “I came here because you bought me, yes, but I stayed because, despite my better judgment …” The words tickled my tongue. I whispered, “Because I like you.” A lump formed in my dry throat, and I swallowed hard. “Now stop stalling or maybe I will walk out the door.”
He stared at me, the wheels turning in his brain. Even if he heard my thoughts, it didn’t matter. I would’ve walked out that door and faced whatever came at me. Petre reached out his hand, and I raised my eyebrow, daring him to touch me.
“You’re freezing, Kor,” he said. My teeth chattered louder than an angry squirrel. I’d met my fair share as they’d stolen or destroyed my food. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but I’ll answer one question tonight. You need to rest.”
I stood, ignoring his hand, but took the towel he offered me. The soft fabric was so big it could’ve wrapped around me twice, or maybe I’d just grown thinner. He pushed me toward the closet, and I smacked his hand away, shutting the door in his face. Petre sighed, and I shared his frustration. Where did we go from here?
There was more to Petre than what I saw on the surface, but I knew little of men aside from the scoundrels who frequented the brothel. I chewed my cheek as I thought about his new offer. Staying would have only delayed the inevitable, but perhaps allowing him time to explain himself was a better idea. Leaving tonight wasn’t smart, even with the falling snow. The benefit of the doubt, I sighed, wondering how soon I’d regret my decision. I grabbed a set of pajamas, after rifling through countless drawers. The silky material was probably the real thing too and in a deep red color trimmed with grey lace.
I swung the closet door open, revealing Petre resting against the wall. His gaze swept over me, and I cleared my throat. “Sorry,” he said as I pushed past him to grab a brush from the bathroom vanity. “Sit.”
My butt fell to the little stool, and he removed the brush from my hand. Gently he raked it through my hair, and I fought the soothing, tingling massage of my scalp. Everything the man did felt good. My eyes met him in the mirror. “What are you?”
“Vampire.” His lips quirked into a half smile, and my heart beat a little faster. I didn’t have many men to compare him with, but to me he was the best-looking man I’d ever laid eyes on. There was a mystery to him, and it drew me in from that first moment on the train. When he spoke, the thick accent had me hanging on every word. Those eyes, steel grey, were surrounded by lush dark lashes. For me, it was like looking at a billboard or a poster. Those men oozed perfection, and that was how I saw Petre.
Unlike those men or the nasty, cheating lowlifes of the brothel, he drank blood and sported a mouthful of sharp fangs. “I don’t know much about vampires; you’ll have to explain it.”
“Most of the mythical creatures in this world are real. Witches, vampires, demons, and even ghosts all exist.” My eyes grew wider with each creature named. He continued to brush my hair even though the knots were out. “There are legends, but my kind made most of them up. Humans are safer, and so are we.”
“What did you mean at the restaurant?” My eyebrow rose, recalling his words. Petre lifted me like a rag doll and cradled me to his chest. His elbow hit the light as we entered the bedroom. I shivered as he laid me in his old bed, but then walked away. Without an answer, he went to the fireplace and clattered around. Moments passed as he cursed, poked, and prodded, but eventually there was a roaring fire.
“I don’t know how to explain it, because I don’t understand it, angel. Humans shouldn’t see certain parts of us unless we want them too.”
“Like how your eyes changed from grey to silver to black?”
Petre spun around. “When were they black?”
“On the train,” I said, pulling the covers back and tucking myself beneath the feathery layers. They almost smelled like him. Almost. “When you sat across from me I noticed they were grey, but then when you caught me lying they were black again.”
“Again …” I patted the bed, wanting him nearby. “That’s not a good idea,” he said and returned to the fire.
My eyes burned at the thought of his hands not wanting to touch me. The whole idea was ridiculous. With Jules, I prayed he wouldn’t touch me, but it was what I wanted from Petre. Wetness drizzled from my eyes, and I couldn’t stop it. Was this my life now, banished from him? The tears came on harder, and my body shuddered in a sob. The covers fell away as he slid in, engulfing me with his arms. “I never said I didn’t want to.” He kissed my forehead. “I feel incomplete when I don’t; I’m just afraid I’ll injure you or move too fast.” He lowered his mouth to my lips. “But what’s the use if I hurt you when I don’t.”
He reached over to turn off the light and shifted around until my head lay on his chest. “Your heart doesn’t beat.”
“I’m dead, angel.” I laughed at the thought. Was that why his skin was cold? “For a long time now,” he added. My head turned, gazing up into his fire lit face. Those lips twitched. “You’re not going to leave me alone about it are you?”
My eyes batted. “I do
n’t know what you mean.” Petre’s grin widened as his arms dragged me closer. “How old are you? Wait, no, let me guess.”
“You want to guess?”
“Yeah,” I said, brushing my lips against his. His head lifted, but I flirted away. “Vampires are usually really old, right?” He chuckled at me as his finger caressed my cheek. “One hundred and fifty years old.” He shook his head. “Older?” Petre nodded.
“Can I tell you so you’ll sleep?” Before I knew what I was doing, I stuck my tongue out at him. He was quick; his tongue touched mine as he leaned forward. My legs fell to either side of his waist, and his manhood pressed into my crotch through his jeans. Heat swelled inside and out as my cheeks warmed. Petre pulled away, grinning wide. “I can’t have enough of you; I’m bad for your health.”
My eyes rolled as I slid over to his side. “You’re silly. If anything you saved my health.”
“At this rate, Mellissa’s going to kill me. She already will when she finds me in here.” He kissed the top of my head. “Did you open your gift yet?”
“No, you put them in the ca—car.” Petre went and came back before I’d finished the sentence. My head hit the pillow as he pounced on me. “I take it you’re super fast too.”
His black hair fell around my face as his lips engulfed mine, parting and pushing his tongue into my mouth. I moaned as the spark reignited, and my arms slung around his neck. The blanket suffocated me, and I kicked it away, dragging Petre on top of me. Our clothing remained the only barrier. His fangs clicked down, and I yipped as they cut my tongue.
Petre sucked my tongue, growling into my mouth. “Mine,” he said, trailing a kiss to my ear. “I want you to be mine.” My eyes met his grey gaze, and I smiled, grabbing his dimpled chin. “You know about my kind. To protect you from them, you belong to me.”
I said okay, not sure why he bothered telling me. By contract, I belonged to him. He handed me the gift box, adding that the gift from Tom the restaurant owner –who gave me the creeps- was in the fridge. The box reminded me of the dress I’d worn except this was black. I lifted the lid as my mouth dropped. Tears burned my eyes at its beauty as my smile cemented onto my face.
“I saw you years ago, walking down the street,” he began. “You didn’t leave the house often, something I noticed after the fact.” I nodded; Jules didn’t allow me out at all, but I snuck away when I could. “Your eyes wandered over the shop windows, but this one piece, you stared at it the longest.”
Petre removed the large yellow pendant, shaped into a teardrop, from the box and put it around my neck. The long chain allowed the glittering piece to rest between my breasts. I opened my mouth to thank him but deny his gift. It was too much, and I couldn’t repay him.
“Don’t you dare,” he said. “You deserve –” I cut him off with a kiss.
“Years, huh?” Mellissa said something similar, but I hadn’t believed her.
“Four … Uncle Jules drove a hard bargain. Hindsight, I should’ve stolen you away and killed him.”
I yawned, settling against his chest, and fingering the stone. “Yes, you should’ve.”
The sun glared through the window, and I blinked, squinting against the warm rays. “Good morning, angel.”
Had Petre stayed with me through the night? His clothes were the same dark jeans and simple pocket t-shirt. “Morning, but you’re the good part.” Cold fingers caressed my chin, tilting it up. My eyes widened, and I scrambled from the bed. His hands had caught me by the waist before I’d taken two steps.
“Where’s the fire?” he taunted, almost laughing. I squirmed, and he dropped his hands as I bee lined into the bathroom. Still quite human, I went about my usual routine of peeing and tooth brushing. After a quick glance in the mirror, I opened the door to find Petre smirking. “All better?” He crooked his finger, and I padded back into his arms. “Let’s get you some breakfast.”
We walked down the stairs, and I quizzed him more on vampires. I asked if his staff knew, and he said they did. He didn’t keep secrets from them, and I learned he actually paid them too. “Angel, the world we live in … how do I say this? … Uncle Jules lied to you and the other girls.”
My feet halted at the bottom step, and my mouth dropped open. What did he mean?
Petre palmed the back of his neck. “Kor, damn it, prostitution isn’t legal until eighteen in the world. Both in Delphia and Garland.”
Not legal. Bile rose in my throat; my body rejected the words he’d spoken to me. Dizziness washed over me, and I leaned on Petre. How could it not be legal? Men came, paid money, chose a woman, and left. Most of the girls were eighteen, but some of us had been younger. I grew up there from the time I could remember until the day I left.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered. His arms surrounded me and pulled me to his chest. I hadn’t even noticed that my body trembled until I’d rattled the table. “What are you saying?”
“Jules touching you, making you do those things, none of that was legal. He’d face jail time if caught.”
“The policemen are customers,” I said, staring off at a painting of the blue-eyed man hanging above the mantle. He resembled Petre, but his eyes held wickedness.
Petre swallowed, and I glanced up at him. “He must pay them to keep quiet, or they didn’t realize he was molesting you.”
“But … but.” I shook my head and balled my fists. Uncle Jules had lied; he’d lied to all of us. The man was a monster. Even the older girls, they’d lived there before turning eighteen. He wanted them young, to break them in, and train them right. “He ….”
My legs gave out, but Petre scooped me into his arms before I hit the floor. He sat us down on the sofa, but I couldn’t stop shaking, and my hands clenched to his shirt. The truth was my age didn’t matter. Illegal or not, I never wanted to do those things. None of us had. The few times I did them willingly were because of the reward. Not riches or money, but things the girls and I needed to survive: extra food and warm blankets.
My stomached reeled, and I heaved. Petre stroked my hair and whispered words I didn’t understand. Everything, every part of my life, had equated to a lie. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered for me, but those girls were still there. If it wasn’t too late for me, it wasn’t too late for them.
“We need to stop him. He can’t …” I couldn’t finish the sentence. No, I didn’t want to talk about what that bastard did to me. “Those girls …” My head nuzzled his neck. His muscles there clenched and popped.
“If I’d known, angel,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Jules wouldn’t be breathing right now.” Petre blew out his breath and turned his head to me. He repeated the word breakfast as my stomach growled. Food was the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted to go to Hampshire House and slit Jules’ throat. The image replayed in my mind. Petre lifted me up from his lap, and I swore under my breath. He tossed me over his shoulder and started walking as I squealed in protest.
“Lord Petre, put that wee lass down,” Mellissa scolded him. “Aye and how is milady this morning?”
He slid me down, carefully avoiding my back, and pulled out a chair from the table. “Sit.”
My eyes tried to take in the massive space of the kitchen. The cabinets lined three walls, but the cooktop rested in the middle. Every surface gleamed, from the white paint to the dark, shiny countertops. His whole house was amazing compared to the dingy, murky brothel. “Feed her well, please.”
She placed a large plate in front of me along with a tall glass of brightly colored liquid. Petre poured a mug of brown sludge and placed it down too. I stared at the food, but I didn’t know what anything was. The mixture of smells watered my mouth. “Eggs,” he said, pointing to the white globs with yellow centers. “Toasted bread.” This time he pointed to the brown crusty square. “My old favorite, sausage, and those are hash browns.”
“Oh,” I said, poking at the yellow part of the egg. It exploded and coated everything it touched with the goo. “Oops...”
“This
is orange juice, or OJ, and in the mug is coffee.” I’d smelled the coffee before, but this was the first time I saw it in a cup. “You can add sugar and cream to it,” he added, pulling a mini pitcher and covered dish toward me. He shot me a pointed look and said, “Eat up or I’ll force feed you.”
“Leave her to me, milord. I’ll fatten her up.”
I choked on the rubbery eggs. “Fatten me up? Why do I want to get fat?”
“Angel, you’re underweight for your height. If you were like me it wouldn’t matter, but it’s not healthy. Jules fed you enough to keep you alive.”
Once I’d hit puberty, he stopped feeding me at all. Those words digested as I nibbled the toast, which was almost as enjoyable as the bread from last night. Yes, Jules hadn’t given any of the girls many rations. There were days where we had nothing. We drank a lot of cold water, plain icy water. He said we had to stay thin, or men wouldn’t want us. Skinny women attracted more money, but we never saw a dime.
One time, one of the girls had ended up pregnant. He tied her to the bed, beat, and starved her until she lost the baby. After that, he tossed her onto the street as a lesson to the rest of us. We never saw her alive again. Uncle Jules drilled into us that pregnancy and gluttony made you fat, and men wouldn’t pay for fat girls.
“How was yer date last night?” Mellissa changed the subject. “Oh and thank ye for the treat.”
I gagged down another bite of egg. “I had a great time, although it was rather enlightening.” Petre kissed my forehead and nodded to her.
“Ach, so ye kno’ the big secret,” she said, raising her brow. I nodded, sipping the sweet and tart juice.
“There’s much to discuss, but she knows what I am.” I didn’t like his tone, and it reminded me that I had many questions to ask him. He wasn’t getting off that easy if Petre thought I’d forget. “My lovelies, I have some business to attend to, but I won’t be gone long.” He walked to the counter and opened a drawer. In his hands were stacks of envelopes, and he withdrew two. “These are for you,” he said, and I opened the first white envelope. There was a huge stack of bills. The second was lighter and contained car keys.
