Dead Girls Don't Cry

by Casey Wyatt

  As if in response, a grid pattern flared to life on the floor. The surface wasn’t stone, but a transparent material backlit with colored lights. Hello Tron.

  “I don’t know how much more strange crap I can take in one lifetime,” I buried my face in my hands. A wave of dizziness rocked me. When I opened my eyes, the room swam around me. Ian’s arm encircled my waist, holding me upright.

  “Don’t freak out, luv. The floor is moving.” Ian pointed down. A pale neon blue path stretched out before us.

  Sure enough, the walkway propelled us like a conveyor belt. Colorful streaks from the patterned ground blurred by as we picked up speed. Cool air pushed back our hair and flapped our clothes.

  The blue line climbed upward. I clung to Ian, fearful of falling off. An irrational worry because the conveyor moved smoothly with no bumps or hitches. A wall appeared. The blue line continued through the center, then the barrier disappeared. We passed through and arrived in another chamber.

  The walkway slowed, flashed, and then came to a complete stop.

  “I guess this means we get off,” I said.

  Ian guided me off the line, a slight quake in his grip. Glad I wasn’t the only one suffering a bit of technology induced shock.

  Another line appeared, green this time. So we followed it through another chamber. I recognized where we were. “I know this place. This is the place in my dreams.”

  The centerpiece of the cavern was a dark lake. The liquid rippled from the pleasant breeze flowing through the space. The floor went from glassy smooth to sandy, like the shore front of my lake at home.

  “Well, this is interesting,” Ian agreed.

  The bracelet took control. My arm stretched out and aimed at the lake. “I guess we move forward.”

  “Do you think its fresh water, like on Earth?” Ian asked, easily keeping pace with my smaller steps.

  “It would be nice.” But I doubted we would be so lucky. The lake was probably poisonous and filled with vile creatures.

  “It smells very clean.”

  Soft sand crunched under my boots. “This is nothing like the sand outside on the surface.”

  “Much cleaner and finer,” Ian agreed.

  At the shoreline, the bracelet relinquished control. My arm dropped by my side. The water moved. Large ripples radiated from the center outward as if a large rock had been landed in the center. I tapped the bracelet, “This better not be a sea monster.” The cuff pulsed back, warm and reassuring.

  “Fear not, young one,” said a strong, clear female voice.

  My eyes widened. A woman emerged in the lake’s center.

  “Hello, King Arthur,” Ian muttered.

  I hissed at him, “Shut it.”

  “All I’m saying, is if she offers us a bloody sword, I’m outta here.”

  “Ian!”

  The woman walked toward us, across the lake’s surface. Billowing pale robes, fanned out behind her. Her slipper covered feet silently padded, leaving still water in her wake. Silver colored earrings dangled from various piercings in her ears. Long black hair hung down to her waist. And her eyes were a shade of blue similar to Ian’s.

  “You have no fear of me, Brunii,” she said to Ian. Her brow wrinkled, the only imperfection on her ethereal face.

  “Not really.” Ian widened his stance and crossed his arms. An unimpressed vibe rolled off him.

  I wanted to smack him in the arm and scream, what the hell are you doing? Instead, I said, “He means you no insult.”

  Ian scoffed, contradicting me.

  The lady laughed. Sweet tones jingled across the cavern, bouncing off the lake with an eerie echo. “I should have known. I recognize it in your blood. A warrior priest.”

  He stiffened, “I’m no longer either of those things.”

  “Do you not still protect the innocent? The helpless?” When she smiled, joy radiated into my pores.

  Her attention turned to me, “You I know as well. A fiery spirit, the blood sings strong inside you.”

  “Who or what are you?” Ian said.

  “I am a memory. I am here and now as well.”

  Riddles. I hate them. I was never very good at them as a child. Not as clever as the other children, I was always last to figure them out. I shifted from foot to foot. “Why are we here?”

  “To return.” She raised her arms. Her mouth opened. High mournful notes poured from her mouth.

  Tears pooled in my eyes. The tune tugged at my heart, though I couldn’t understand any of the words. Weariness filled me up, threatening to tip me over.

  The song stopped. “When the time is right you will sing the song of creation. You need to rest. You are safe here. When you awaken, in three days’ time the storm will have passed. This place is yours, Charity Belmont. Use it wisely.” The lady turned and dissolved into the lake.

  “Bloody hell, that was bizarre.” Ian walked me away from the water’s edge.

  “Did you understand what she meant?” A yawn split my jaw wide. Exhaustion swept over me.

  “No idea. We’re setting up camp. I believe we’re safe here.” Ian unloaded a tent from his seemingly bottomless backpack. He set it up, refusing my offer of help.

  “Inside you go.” Ian ushered me in and spread out two sleeping bags.

  I was too tired to ask where they had come from. I tugged off my boots, shucked off my jumpsuit and crawled inside the bag.

  “Night, luv,”’ was the last thing I heard before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  ~ * * * ~

  “Three days. She said we’re stuck here at least three days?” I gaped at Ian, repeating myself like a parrot. I had been so tired parts of the conversation with the lake lady were a bit blurry.

  “Yes.” Ian lay stretched out on his sleeping bag, hands tucked under his head. “No use getting your knickers in a knot.”

  “Everyone will be worried,” I rolled onto my side to stare at him. His hair, mussed from sleep added to his roguish charm. I’m sure my hair said – disheveled mess. “Although, we could explore the cave little more.”

  “Always a possibility,” Ian agreed. He rolled over to face me. “Or we could do other things.” He smoothed the left side of my hair down, then caressed my left earlobe.

  I shivered at the erotic possibilities hinted at in his voice. “So tempting,” I hedged, not wanting to bruise the delicate male ego, “but I think we owe it to the Colony to at least do a little work.”

  “My, my, how you’ve grown,” Ian tweaked my nose playfully. “You’re absolutely right. But later…” He trailed off, allowing my imagination fill in the blanks.

  We left the tent and gear by the lakeside. It’s not like anyone would steal it. I doubted the lake lady would decide to rifle through our meager belongings. Ian repacked one backpack with the gear we would need to explore. Undeadness had its privileges. Though we didn’t have to eat often or use the bathroom, Ian had thoughtfully packed a few juice pouches for me.

  “Still no luck on finding out who tried to kill me?” I asked as we walked the shore’s perimeter. If this was like my lake on Earth, the shore would lead someplace eventually. With the caverns’ freaky technology, who knew what we’d find.

  “Afraid not. But it’s not for lack of trying,” Ian said. “He or she can’t hide forever.”

  “Or they.”

  “Also a possibility.”

  So many problems, where to start? Dealing with the immediate situation seemed the most prudent thing to do. Settle the colony, then worry about Earth affairs. Except, it was a safe bet, that whoever tried to kill me was connected to Thalia somehow.

  Why try to kill me? Thalia was threatened by Ian, not me. Until the night Queen V was murdered, I’d never been that close to undead royalty. Thalia couldn’t have known or cared less about me. And, I didn’t know Ian either until the day before the assassination.

  “Stop fretting.” Ian rubbed his forehead. “You’re making my brain ache.”

  “Sorry,” I grumbled. He could
n’t expect I’d stop thinking about things. Ian’s frustration filled my mind. “Hold on. The connection, it’s stronger now isn’t it?”

  “Since we entered this chamber,” Ian confirmed. “I’m older than you. The blood . . .” he seemed to search for the right words, “… speaks more loudly in my head than yours. Plus, I think you have some immunity because you’re a sire.”

  The shoreline around the lake grew wider, the sand stretching out as far as the eye could see. I stopped and swiveled around. After a tentative sniff of the air, I concluded, “I think we’re traveling in circles.”

  Ian scented the air as well. “You may be right. I smell our tracks up ahead and we haven’t been on this beach before.”

  “An illusion?” I ventured. A scoopful of sand felt real between my palms. It tasted like dirt too. Yeah, I licked the sand.

  “No, seems real enough.” Ian dipped his hand into the water. “This feels real to me. Wonder if it’s safe to drink.”

  I marched up to water. Thrusting the cuff into the liquid, I ordered, “Analyze the water.”

  “Will it work?”

  “I dunno. It’s worth a try. Unless it’s a glorified compass.” The bracelet didn’t like the comparison one bit. Bright colors beamed out in every direction. Runes floated into the air over the rippling surface. Too bad, I couldn’t read them.

  “Have you considered asking it to—”

  “Translate,” I finished for Ian. The runes spun around like tops. When they stopped, English appeared. A scientific formula of some sort. “Thanks. I have no idea what it means.”

  “But Jay or one of the scientists would.” Ian offered me a wash cloth to dry off my dripping hand and wrist.

  My stomach rumbled. Ian stared at my waist as if an alien would pop out at any moment.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked in disbelief.

  I shook my head. To contradict me, more tummy gurgles echoed in the cave. “I don’t feel any different.”

  Ian started walking back the way we came. “I don’t like this. First my heart beat. Now your stomach. What’s next gray hair? Arthritis?”

  I hustled to catch up to him, not liking his train of thought. “Are you suggesting we’re becoming mortal again?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Was it possible to return to life? Ian led us back to the tent. By then my stomach was silent. And I was completely confused.

  “Is any of this even real?”

  Ian pulled me into his arms, “I’m real.”

  If he was an illusion, I wasn’t about to let go. The strength of his body pressed against mine, soothed me. I doubted an illusion could make me so happy. A fantasy also couldn’t make me feel love for it either.

  Ian startled. “Cherry, were you thinking of me?”

  I stared at my feet, fear hammered in my chest like a piston. The last time I loved anyone, they had hurt me. Fat tears spilled from my eyes. I wiped my runny nose on my sleeve.

  “Aw, darling. I think it’s time you told me why you can’t trust anyone.” Ian guided me inside the tent and pulled me down on a sleeping bag. “Talk. Please.”

  I didn’t know where to begin. Ian patiently waited. His emotions were placid. In contrast, my mind was a storm at sea, winds blowing, waves raging, the ship ready to crash at any moment. How could he stand having me in his head?

  Reassurance washed over me. The sea of emotions subsided to a rippling wave. The storm calmed.

  “The past is just that. Past. Over. Done with,” Ian said.

  I could do this. Out with it. “My father lost my freedom in a poker game.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “What?” Ian stopped rubbing my back. “A poker game?”

  “Well, the situation was a bit more complex.” I needed to start the story from the beginning. “My parents had a marriage of convenience. My mother was an English aristocrat, daughter of the Earl of Pembridge. The family, while dating back to Tudor times, was as old as it was poor. By the late 1800s, the estate couldn’t sustain itself anymore. So my grandfather arranged a marriage to a rich American. The idea was twofold. The American’s money would save the family. And their first born son would inherit the earldom.”

  “Yes. I remember those days. English estates were flush with foreign cash,” Ian said with a touch of nostalgia.

  “My father earned his money speculating in oil and mining. He was a risk taker. Totally wrong for my pious mother. But then, they didn’t need to love each other. They managed to produce children.” An image of my mother reading her bible each day in her salon filtered into my mind. The sun from the windows caught her hair with glimmering gold highlights. She always smelled of flowers. Rose water or lavender. And, what I now recognized as sadness, always surrounded her.

  “Typical aristocratic marriage.”

  “They weren’t always unhappy. They came to a peace, of sorts. They traveled around the world. He, to find business opportunities and she, to spread the word of God.” What I remember most about my father was his laugh and easy charm. The fragrant scent of pipe tobacco. Like most men of his time, Father smoked like a fiend. “They also liked each other enough to produce nine children. Only four of us survived into adulthood. I was the oldest, followed by my twin sisters Faith and Grace. God finally blessed them with a male heir, Edwin.”

  Oh, how I had loved them. Emotions I suppressed long ago raced back into my heart. I pushed them back down and continued. “When I was eighteen, my parents decided to relocate the family to India. I spent most of my childhood living in the United States, much to my mother’s dismay. She hated the coarseness of American society. She escaped back to the family estate in England as often as she could.”

  She needed a break from us children. Me in particular. Even though we had nurses, nannies and tutors, as a collective, we children were always into something my mother considered inappropriate.

  “As you might guess, I was a bit headstrong.”

  Ian laughed. “Imagine that.”

  “I was more like my father. Adventurous, never content to stay in one place. My mother and I really didn’t get along so I spent as much time with my father as I could.” In reality, I was closely supervised to ensure I didn’t cause a scandal and tarnish the family name. “When I hadn’t married by eighteen, my mother grew concerned that America was ruining me. She and my father hatched a plan to find me a suitable husband in India. It was a British Colony and there were plenty of ways my father could turn a profit.”

  “Enter Jay?”

  “His father was high caste and well connected. An asset my father could exploit. Jay and I met, ironically, the same night I first encountered Jonathan. Jonathan arrived at a ball dressed like a reject from the Revolutionary War. At the time, he passed it off as a mistake in parties. He claimed to be attending a costume ball at an estate nearby. Unluckily for me, he intercepted Jay and I sneaking a smoke in the library.”

  Ian roared, chest shaking with laughter. “I bet that was sight to behold.”

  “I was scared shitless. Society woman did not smoke. My mother would have killed me with her disapproval and dire warnings of spinsterhood.” Lord knew I had heard her about “disappointment in me” so many times, I’m surprised she didn’t take me to a convent. Good thing we weren’t Catholics.

  “So Jonathan had something to blackmail you both with?”

  “Exactly. At the time, I didn’t realize he had heard me singing in the gardens. He actually owned the estate next door. He desired my voice above all else.” See, I should have listened to my mother and kept silent. “Jonathan gave us a stern warning and we promised to behave. Then I forgot about the encounter.” In hindsight, I should have seen my father’s downfall coming.

  “And?” Ian prompted.

  “Shortly thereafter, my father’s businesses started to fail. Shipments lost at sea, workers striking, warehouse fires. You name it, it happened to him. My mother perceived it to be God testing them. Like Job.”

  “And it was Jonathan�
��s doing? Seems kind of a complicated way to obtain you.”

  “Jonathan had tried to gain permission to court me. My parents refused. When other means failed, he decided to ruin my father. By this time, the earl had quite a reputation as a gambler. Back then it was socially acceptable to lose your entire fortune in risky ventures. I’m sure my father expected to earn it back.”

  “Luv,” Ian shifted underneath me to look at my face, “Jonathan was an elder vampire, why didn’t he take you?”

  I paused. “To this day, I believe it was my mother’s doing. Her faith was so powerful, Jonathan couldn’t touch me. At the time, I rarely left the house. My mother kept me busy all the time. She didn’t trust me not to find trouble.”

  Ian didn’t laugh at me. Instead, he got a faraway look. “Belief can be a power of its own. Your mother must have been a very special woman.”

  “To complete Father’s ruin, Jonathan convinced him to sponsor a high stakes poker game at our estate”

  “Giving Jonathan access to you.”

  I nodded, “Father went against my mother’s wishes. He bargained with the devil and lost. Jonathan required two sacrifices. One was he got to “marry” me. And the other…” Chills raced up my spine. “I never did find out what it was.” And it still scared the hell out of me. “When my father lost, he handed me over like a deed to a piece of property. Without a backward glance he gave me to Jonathan.”

  “That’s cold, luv.”

  “The fortune was restored. My brother and sisters were safe and lived well. Jonathan’s betrothal present was that he made sure they had money and wouldn’t be subject to my father’s vices anymore. My father made sure I understood the situation. There was no coming home for me, else they suffered more. I was trapped.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ian shook his head. Sadness permeated our bond.

  “We were married the following morning. Jonathan allowed me to stay in India near my family for another month. During that time, he decided to kidnap Jay so I’d have company when he was away. Soon after, Jonathan whisked us away, leaving behind a large sum of money and a lie to Jay’s family. Before we knew it, we were in Paris.”