Constricted: Beyond the Brothel Walls
Page 28
The urge to enter the church ruins rushed through my veins. When had I last prayed to Him? Shaky palms held to the skies and the tremble reached my booted toes. Being elioud did not make me evil in his eyes, but our kind could not ascend even though we had not asked for our existence. God gave us this broken life instead. I shook my head and wiped the melted snow from my face. No prayer today, I thought and jumped from the steps. The draw wrenched at my heart, and I halted again, turning and staring at the battered old door.
Quick glances narrowed over my shoulder although I was not certain why. Prayer and churches had not insinuated weakness even for the damned. The door squeaked as I pressed on the worn surface and slipped through the gap. A sneeze tickled my nose from the ten years of dust and moldy decay as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Birds cooed in the rafters. God had not ascended the animals; demons required food. Pews and papers lay on their sides as if everyone had disappeared. Oh right, they had departed the cruel world for a better place. My lips pursed as my eyes roamed over the damage.
Soggy carpet squished beneath my feet as I found the sturdiest pew and sat, bowing my head and clearing my thoughts. I could not have told anyone the denomination of the church, but it was not Catholic. Depicted scenes bathed Jesus in a positive light as opposed to his crucifixion. No pictures of saints or the Mother Mary either. Protestant perhaps but that had not mattered in God’s eyes. “All that mattered rested in your heart and soul,” mother used to say to the three of us, and I believed her even after all I had survived.
Lips repeated the same words I had said since departing Garland: “God, please protect my sisters. You and I both know firsthand what they do and the horrors they face. Please let your love fill them, so they never know hunger and allow your light to protect their souls in their darkest hour. I have to believe they can heal where I haven’t.”
The inflicted wounds of my captors had never healed. Did they heal for anyone or was it all a dream? I stared at the cross. After ten years of freedom, the nightmares had spilled into my waking hours. No man alive would ever love the real me. A tear rolled down my cheek as I bloodied my lip between my teeth. They saw either my birth name or the scars left behind by slavery.
A bright light flooded the quaint church, and I shielded my eyes as a white clad woman floated to my side. Long blond hair flowed and billowed as she smiled.
“Demons don’t usually pray.” My head bowed until her light had dimmed. “I am Hallowed, the angel of Conquest and Virtue.” Her warm hand smoothed over my forehead and heat spread throughout my body, defrosting my cold body. The darkness of their deeds skittered into the recesses as my heart swelled. “Great change comes for you, Cain Morning Star. Will you be ready to accept it?”
My gaze met her sapphire eyes, and I blinked as they glowed in the dim lit church. “You know my name,” I whispered.
“God heard your pleas.” My brow twisted mirroring my gut. He still listened? Where was God when they beat me? When they … I swallowed unable to utter the words after all these years. “Go. Your future waits.”
My lips parted to speak, but Hallowed had vanished. Hands rubbed sleep deprived eyelids as my neck craned forward. Had I imagined her?
My watch ticked and I removed the pocket watch from my jeans pocket. A curse tickled my lips; I ran later for my meeting than I’d realized. Leaving the church, I paused at the door and stared at the barren cross again. “Please, save Lilith and Angelica. Forget about me.” My eyes closed, picturing their smiling faces. Twenty years had passed since I last saw Lily. Ten years ago, I saw Angel.
Already damned, like me but perhaps they held a chance at happiness, love, and freedom where I had given up on the notion years ago. Three hundred years of servitude had altered my views. No demon could set me free; my one true wish was true freedom. The door groaned as I yanked on the corroded iron handles. Fresh air filled my lungs and chased away all warmth. Change waits, future waits, but I had cared little for myself. The odd draw vacated and altered its path toward the bar. That had to be a sign; try as I might my feet refused a faster pace. Weight lifted from my shoulders and my steps grew lighter, yet I could not reach the door fast enough.
“He listened,” I whispered. “My sisters will be freed.”
Easing through the bar door, my eyes squinted as the smoke cloud billowed from the bar. My heart pumped harder, and hairs on my neck stiffened. Green eyes flared to life, glowing among the nicotine haze releasing from his lips, but I knew that gaze. “Dorian,” I said and swore he had mouthed mine. He knew my name too.
Ache swelled in the center of my chest as he reached for a woman with dreadlocks. The elioud slipped through his grasp and approached me, but my gaze refused to budge from the swell of muscles extended and framing the bar. Insides squeezed as his thoughts roared to life. Dorian’s eyes widened, darting toward the exits. I could not help but grin and shake my head, as I read his thoughts.
Did he think I’d kick his ass again?
The woman I now assumed was Belle extended her hand and asked, “Cain?” I nodded as she continued speaking a mile a minute, but her words mattered little.
The man I had spent the last seven months searching for sat at the bar. Snug jeans clung to Dorian’s sprawled thighs, accenting the muscles hidden underneath the fabric. Another puff of smoke released as he blew out a lengthy drag, and my insides ignited. Blood pumped hard, and my dry throat constricted. Tingles caused by his gaze rushed over my skin, and I blinked as my brain fought against my body. Dorian cocked his head as the heat rose in his scruff-covered cheeks. Under the layers of acrid smoke, I swore I even smelled his seascape aftershave.
“Oh no,” Belle said but my eyes still refused to acknowledge her as he downed his drink.
Dorian wiped puffy lips across his duster sleeve and slammed the glass down on the bar. My mouth hissed a breath as he stormed from the bar, escaping through the side entrance. I had failed to notice the dim exit sign. No, I screamed without words and felt my eyes widen. Seven months I had searched for him, and there was no way in hell I’d allow him to run away now.
Coming Soon
Spring 2015
Coming Soon
Tears of the Valkyrie: Midgard Book One - July 2014
Altered: Beyond the Brothel Walls - Spring 2015
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About the Author
Rae Z. Ryans is a member of the RWA and RWA Fantasy, Futuristic, and Paranormal chapter. She currently resides in Alabama with her family. Published since the age of fourteen, Rae enjoys writing romantic, erotic, fantasy/paranormal stories and poetry. Her name pays homage to her brothers: Specialist Ryan D. Rexon and Zachary U. Berthot.
She is currently working on Beyond the Brothel Walls #2: Altered. This post-apocalyptic paranormal romance is emotionally driven, dark fantasy.
Also available on Amazon and other major retailers,
Chivalry and Malevolence: Alfheim Book One
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