by ERIN BEDFORD
“Okay, sure.” Marsha did as Patrick asked and sat on a pink flamingo bench. Patrick stood before him and placed his hands on either side of Marsha’s head, but before he could do anything, Marsha interrupted, “Will this hurt?”
“It shouldn’t,” Patrick reassured him. “The main thing to remember is not to fight me. You have to open yourself up to me, or it will be unpleasant for you.”
Marsha nodded, and I shifted over toward them so I could watch more clearly. I’d only heard about vampires being able to get into your mind and had seen the aftermath. I’d never seen it actually performed. It would be a handy skill to have at one point, even if I didn’t ever plan to use it.
Patrick seemed to read my mind because his gaze locked onto mine. “As I told Marsha, it is easier if they don’t fight you, but it can be done without consent, though it is painful for both parties.”
Nodding, I watched intently as Patrick closed his eyes and told Marsha, “Just relax.”
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to expect. Some kind of glowing magical power emanating from Patrick’s hands? Maybe a few fancy words in another language? Even a humming sound would have been something, but there was not a sound or single indication of what was happening. Just Patrick’s slow breathing which was mimicked by Marsha. To me, studying them from the outside, it didn’t seem like anything was happening. It wasn’t until Marsha’s breathing quickened that I knew Patrick was actually doing something.
“No, no.” Marsha shook his head, trying to dislodge Patrick’s hand. “I’ve changed my mind. Please, no.” The whimper that came from him made me reach my hand out, but Patrick made a noise, causing me to drop it.
Sweat dripped down Patrick’s forehead, and his brows furrowed in concentration. Obviously, Marsha’s sudden reluctance was making it harder for him. While I didn’t like to see either of them in pain, it was good to know that mind raping was a double-edged sword. You couldn’t take without getting hurt as well.
Marsha moved his head from side to side, moaning his displeasure. Patrick had a good grip on him though and wouldn’t let go. Good thing too, because his moaning changed into mumbling and I distinctively think I heard my name in there somewhere.
“It’s working,” I said, mostly to myself. “I can’t believe it’s actually working.”
No one responded to me though. Not that I expected them to, they were both elbows deep in Marsha’s brain. I doubted even if I were bleeding on the ground that they would notice me.
Eventually, the moaning from Marsha stopped, and Patrick seemed not to be in as much pain as before. I hoped that meant they were almost finished. I wasn’t sure I could take it anymore. I mean, it wasn’t my brain getting put back together, but the waiting was terrible enough that I might as well have been.
Patrick was the one to open his eyes first, then Marsha, who blinked several times before his eyes settled on Patrick. Instead of the kind of giddy grin Patrick had received before now, sharp daggers were shooting from his eyes. Yep, Marsha was back.
Jerking away from Patrick’s hands, Marsha shoved the vampire out of the way and moved as far away from us as possible. Marsha paced the floor, his hand on his chin, muttering to himself. It seemed like he was trying to work something out, and I wasn’t sure it was my place to interrupt that, no matter how much I wanted to.
His muttering eventually stopped, and he smacked himself on the side of the head before spinning in place and pointing a finger at Patrick, “You! This is all your fault. You did this to me.”
“Actually,” Patrick corrected, “Tris did this on her own. I simply did not stop her.”
“Big difference,” Marsha scoffed, his hands balled into fists at his side. He was so angry. I could see it pulsating through his veins and through his body. The rage wafted off of his skin in waves. It made me kind of hungry.
Before I could stop it, my fangs peeked out of my mouth, and Marsha gasped. I quickly covered my mouth and took a step back as he stared at me in horror. Shaking my head, I tried to explain behind my hand. “It’s not what you think.” Of course, it didn’t come out that way. It sounded more like, “It ot awt oh ink.” Which made no sense at all.
“Oh, I think it is,” Marsha snapped, stomping toward me. Patrick stepped in front of me blocking me from his view. “I think that while I was being that horrible woman’s boy toy, you were off becoming one of the very things we were trying to stop.”
I pushed Patrick out of the way. “No, it’s not. They took you, Marsha.” I tried to show him how distressed it had made me. How helpless I had felt that I couldn’t help him. “Then they made me put on a fancy white dress and walk down the aisle, all while I was being watched by everyone we know.”
“You didn’t have to,” Marsha accused. “You could have said no.”
“And do what?” I practically yelled. “Let them kill you? Kill my family? Getting married to Patrick was the least of my worries.”
Marsha snorted. “Obviously not, because you became like him after all.”
“Not by choice!” I screeched, my fingers curling into balls until they bit my skin. The smell of blood tinged in the air and I forced myself to calm down. “Look, I don’t want to fight. You should just be happy that we were able to undo what Tris did.”
“Oh, yes. Thank you so much for bringing back the misery I’d blissfully forgotten.” Marsha crossed his arms over his chest, the sarcasm in his voice drilling into my patience.
“You should be.” I turned and gestured at Patrick. “He could have let you rot. He didn’t have to fix you. He only did it because I asked him to.”
“Because he’s using you, don’t you see that?” Marsha shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe that you’re just willing to forgive him and forget about everything he has put you through, put me, Violet, and Narq through. And what about Tillie?”
I smiled sadly. “I can’t change what’s already happened. Patrick has gained my trust, and nothing you will say can change that.” I stepped away from him until my back bumped against Patrick’s back. His hands came up to rest on my shoulders. “Besides, it’s too late for any of that. Alban knows. They’ll be attacking any time now. I only wanted to make sure you were fixed before it all went down.”
“Well, I am.” Marsha made a disgusted noise and looked down, shaking his head. “You can have peace of mind knowing you ‘fixed’ me.”
“Marsha ...” I started, but he put up his hand cutting me off.
“No, don’t. I can’t even look at you without thinking about what you are now.” His eyes were so full of emotion that it hurt. “The things she did to me. I can still remember them. I liked it, Clara. They didn’t just make me forget, they took me over. How you can be with one of them, after everything? I can’t forgive that. It’d have been better if you had never given me my memory back at all.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that he didn’t mean that, but Patrick’s hand on my shoulder tightened. He was right. I’d done what I had set out to do. The end result wasn’t something I had wanted, but I guess I couldn’t expect to get everything I wanted. The only thing I could do now was hope for the best and let Marsha go. After all, he’d already done the same.
Chapter 16
We were both quiet as Patrick walked me back to the tunnel. I think he knew I had a lot on my mind, another sign of his being able to read me so well. I wondered if he had always been that way, or if it was because of his blood? I’d like to think I’d been harder to read when I was human.
“Are you going to go back to your father’s now?” Patrick touched my arm, stopping me from entering the tunnel.
I glanced down at his hand and then slowly to his face. I honestly wasn’t sure what I’d do. I didn’t want to go back, just to lay there awake thinking about what Marsha said. Just thinking about doing that was too depressing. I also didn’t want to stay here. My father and the other leaders looked ready to storm the castle at any moment. I didn’t think this was a very safe place for me to be
.
“I might go to my stepmother’s,” I said finally. “I haven’t seen them since the wedding, and I doubt they know what’s going on.” I paused for a moment, a sad smile on my lips. “We might not have ever gotten along well, but I can’t let them get caught in the crossfire. I’ve caused enough people pain as it is.”
“Clarabelle.” The way Patrick said my name made tears well up, and I put my hand up to stop him from coming closer. If he touched me, I just knew I’d fall apart.
“Please don’t,” I muttered, turning away from him. “I just can’t. Not right now.”
“You know it’s not your fault,” Patrick said anyway, his hand on my shoulder. “Marsha is angry now, but he will not be forever. Maybe you will be able to find peace between you.”
I nodded numbly. I was pretty sure Patrick was wrong. The anger in Marsha’s eyes hadn’t just been because I had forgiven Patrick, but because of what I’d become. We’d never be the same way we had been before. My vampirism would always block the way of any kind of friendship we could have had, forget anything else.
No, I had to resign myself to the fact that Marsha was safe and that’s all I could hope for. I had a new life now. I wouldn’t get to keep everyone safe and have them too. After all, I was a vampire. I had forever, and they had maybe fifty, sixty years at most? What kind of friendship would that be? How I ever thought we could have anything now that I was one of them baffled me. And pissed me off.
“Clarabelle,” Patrick tried once more, but I’d had enough.
“No, Patrick. Just stop.” I shook his hand away. “Marsha was right. I’m a monster now. I can’t expect anyone to see me as anything other than that.”
Patrick sighed dejectedly. “But I do not see you that way. Nor do I believe your father does.”
“Doesn’t count.” I shook my head bitterness in my voice. “None of it will matter after this is all said and done. We’ll be lucky not to be dead in any case.” With that, I opened the tunnel door and marched inside, slamming it shut behind me.
Patrick thankfully didn’t follow me. I couldn’t handle any more of his understanding. I just needed to wallow for a while. I was in an impossible situation of my own creation. Sure, I’d had good intentions, but you know what they said about those.
I’d ended up becoming the thing I wanted to save the rest of Alban from, only to turn around and betray them as well. Does what people see me as decide who I should be loyal to? Should I be for the humans or the monsters? To Marsha or to Patrick? The questions were really all one and the same.
Of course, I knew I was being pessimistic, but I really didn’t see how this was going to turn out good for me. Either I would end up getting killed in the midst of Alban’s revolution, or I’d have to hide away. I didn’t see the common people letting only a few of us vampires live. I wouldn’t if I was them. I’d have said to kill them all and let the pieces fall where they may.
Part of me wondered what exactly my father and the others planned to do after they took back Alban. Did they have a plan? Would they change the way we divided the food and resources? Would they elect a new leader? Or would everything fall apart and end up even worse than it had been before?
My mind whirled with so many thoughts that I almost missed the exit for the Inner Circle. I pushed the tunnel door open and walked through the town, my arms wrapped around myself as if they could protect me from my dark thoughts. It hadn’t been that long since I’d left the Glade, there should have still been people on the streets. When I’d lived here before, there would be people partying until the early morning hours. The fact that it was so quiet didn’t sit well with me.
Turning away from the quiet marketplace, I started toward my stepmother’s new house. I didn’t know exactly where it was but figured there couldn’t be too many new houses in the upper part of town. Maybe they put a sign up like they did at their old house. I could only be so lucky.
The upper part of town wasn’t much different from the rest of the Inner Circle, except that the houses were bigger and there weren’t any shops. They left that to the riff-raff of downtown. I rolled my eyes. Even the elite had their lessers. When would everyone realize that we were all the same? We all bled the same blood. What we had didn’t make us any different or better than anyone else.
I walked down the street, peeking in windows like a creep until I found my little sister, Lea, perched in a window. She had a book in her hand and a girly smile on her lips. She must be in a good mood. At least, one of us was.
She must have sensed me watching her because she looked up from her book and saw me. Her eyes widened, and a broad grin spread across her face. Lea jumped from her seat and came bounding out the door.
“Clara!” she screeched so loudly, I swore the sleeping neighbors heard her. She wrapped her arms around my torso and pressed her head to my chest in a tight hug. Placing my hand on her back. I patted her, not really in the hugging mood.
“Hey, Lea.” I forced a smile onto my lips. “How are you?”
She pulled back from me and giggled. “I’m fantastic. You can’t believe all the amazing things that have happened to me since you left. It’s like a dream come true. You know Derek Bloomberg? The florist’s son?” I nodded though I had no idea who she was talking about. “He wants me to go to a dance with him. A real dance with big dresses and everything. I’m so excited.”
Her happiness washed over me, and I couldn’t help but be happy for her. “I’m glad. You should go to a dance or two before you get married.”
“So, what’s it like?” she asked, grabbing my hand and dragging me inside. “To be married to Patrick Blordril?”
I shrugged as I stopped in the foyer of the house. There was a grand staircase and a tall ceiling where a crystal fixture hung from the ceiling sparkled in the light.
“It’s a lot bigger than our other house huh?” Lea smiled, seeing me look around.
I nodded. “Yeah, it is.”
“Lea, who’s at the door?” my stepmother walked into the foyer. When she saw me, she came to a halt, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Clarabelle, what a surprise. We weren’t expecting to see you so soon.”
“I know,” I said, not letting her intimidate me. “It wasn’t planned. I just thought I’d stop by.”
“Well, isn’t that nice. How long do you plan on staying?” The tight smile on my stepmother’s lips told me all I needed to know about what she thought of my visit. I was an unwelcome nuisance she wanted gone as soon as possible.
“Not long,” I assured her. “I actually wanted to talk to you all about something important.”
“Oh really?” Belinda arched a perfectly shaped brow. “Should I get Julianna?”
“Yes.” I inclined my head. “That would be a good idea since it involves all of you.”
Lips pressed into a thin line, my stepmother left the room and then shortly after returned with my other stepsister. When Julianna saw me, she didn’t seem as upset to see me as I’d have expected. She actually looked relieved.
“Clara,” she breathed and pulled me into a surprising hug. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Uh, likewise,” I said awkwardly.
Julianna let me go with a knowing look that I didn’t understand before going to stand by her mother.
“Very well, we’re all here.” My stepmother gave Julianna a curious look before staring at me. “Say what you need to. We were just about to call it a night.”
“No, we weren’t,” Lea argued, earning her a warning look from her mother.
Ignoring the poorly veiled hint to leave, I said, “Why don’t we sit down? This isn’t something to be discussed standing in the doorway.”
My stepmother seemed like she might argue but instead straightened her shoulders and nodded curtly. “Fine. This way.”
My stepsisters and I followed her into the sitting room where they had a new couch and chairs. It seemed like the house wasn’t the only thing they had upgraded.
“As you can see, we
have done very well for ourselves because of your marriage.” My stepmother couldn’t help but point that out. Her words on my wedding day still rang true in my mind, and it took everything in me not to turn around and walk out that door, leaving them to fend for themselves.
“I see that.” I nodded politely. Who said I couldn’t be mature?
“So, Clara.” Julianna crossed one leg over the other, the pretty dress she wore spreading out around her. “What did you want to tell us?”
“Are you pregnant?” Lea shouted out without warning.
“Lea!” her mother and sister chastised her.
I smiled and chuckled. “No, I’m not pregnant.” Though, at this point that would have been a happy alternative. The thought of little babies with Patrick made my face heat. I pushed those thoughts away and focused on the challenging task before me.
Taking a deep breath, I started, “Things are happening. They’re already in motion, and you can’t stop it.” I looked at my stepmother to make sure she knew I was talking to her. “The condensed version is the Crimson Fold isn’t who you think they are, and the other sections are coming together to stop them.”
“What in God’s name are you talking about?” my stepmother cried out, outrage on her face. “How dare you come in here talking of some war that you no doubt are the start of!”
I couldn’t argue with her there.
Then a startling statement came from Julianna. “I know.”
Belinda, Lea, and I all turned as one to look at the oldest daughter. My brows scrunched together, I asked, “What do you mean, you know?”
Julianna shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes dipping down before coming back up, a fierce determination in them. “I mean, I overheard your father talking to some of the others around here. I asked him about it, and he told me the truth. About the election. About the Crimson Fold. About everything.” Her eyes settled on me so firmly, and I knew without a doubt he had told her what I was now.
“Why would he tell you and not me?” Belinda gasped. She seemed more upset about the fact that my father had left her out of the loop rather than the chaos that was about to run down on us. It was typical for her, really.
