The Waif's Tale

by C. L. Stegall

  Liam turned and walked toward the door. At first, I thought he was going to chicken out on me. Then, he reached up and flipped the small metal latch to prevent anyone coming in unannounced. I smiled. He returned to the foot of the bed and began disrobing. He took his time as I leaned back and took it all in. He had even better abs than I expected. Within a couple of long minutes, he was down to his boxers. I could see the bulge growing beneath the cloth, so I wiggled my finger at him, indicating their removal. I was pleased.

  "Your turn," he stated. Taking my hand, he led me from the bed to switch places with me, his manhood standing tall as a Florida Pine. He lay back, propped up by his elbows as I began to slip slowly out of my clothes, one piece at a time. When I stood naked before him, I watched his breathing and the pulsing of the blood in his nethers, making me hungry in more ways than one. I half-expected him to come right then and there. Thankfully, he had more control than that.

  "Let's see if I can't teach you a thing or two," I breathed as I eased onto the bed, taking him in my hand, moving it to one side to look the man in his eyes. "Oh, the things I'm going to do to you." He moaned as I opened my mouth.

  CHAPTER 13

  1890, The Citadel, Age 13

  B y the time I made it to the fourth year of The School, I was one of only six students remaining. I had seen students fail in their studies, never to return to classes. Some, fed up with the pressure and unable to handle the onslaught of information and training, had taken their own young lives. Theresa, the youngest girl in the class, had been killed during training. Once we had become proficient, the gloves were off and Asaro informed us that there were no more rules. Sparring was a battle to unconsciousness or death and little Theresa held her own against Salem for longer than I expected; in the end, Salem got his first taste of blood.

  I just couldn't let his smugness about it pass without comment. "So, Salem," I said, a few days after they had taken Theresa's little body from the gymnasium, "what's Yarrow say about that missing link?"

  Mr. Yarrow was the psychologist who monitored our mental health and wellbeing, although poorly, I might add.

  "What missing link?" he asked as we sat in the dining hall.

  All the workouts and studies kept us famished, so no one failed to eat heartily. That was one thing that really surprised me about the Valensi: they could eat regular food. In fact, they needed to in order to survive. The feeding on blood was a necessity due to their biochemistry but regular meal consumption was not eliminated with being birthed into the race.

  "You know," I continued, ignoring his expression and still shoveling potatoes into my mouth between words, "that link in your mind between morality and judgment."

  The other conversations around our table ceased and all eyes fell on Salem. At first, I thought he'd spit some vile drivel and leap at me in anger. Everyone knew that the boy had serious control issues; I knew that from the first day I'd met him.

  "Morality means nothing now. Can't you see that?" He smiled with great smugness at my expression of disbelief. "You think you're so high and mighty, but believing there is any such thing as morals in this world is just...stupid." He shot the words at me as if the force might give them more credence.

  I had no idea why the boy had it in for me, but I was not about to back down when I knew I was right. "You're wrong, Salem – not to mention ignorant," I said. "Morality is simple and defined. It is held in every culture, including that of the Valensi. It's the set of guiding principles that distinguishes between right and wrong, between good and bad behavior, acceptable and unacceptable in society. The fact that you don't understand that only serves to prove my point."

  "One of these days, little girl, I'm gonna enjoy knocking you off of that high horse of yours. And when I do, you and your morality can go straight to Hell." He stood and tromped away in a huff.

  As I watched him walk away, I had to wonder when that day would come and if I would be up to the task when it did. Salem was not the brightest among us but he was sharp enough to be a problem, just like he always had been.

  "Why must you rile him up so?" London asked, her eyes boring into me. When I'd first met Sarah, she'd seemed like such an innocent little thing. During our time at the Citadel, she had grown into a formidable opponent in class, as well as on the sparring mats. I admired her perseverance and determination. Still, I also worried for that lost little girl who'd been left behind in London's wake.

  "Because he irritates me," I stated flatly.

  "He'll try and kill you now."

  "Like he doesn't do that every day in the gym. I'm getting used to it," I said, ironically, since my black eye from one of Salem's nasty jabs was only beginning to heal. My ribs were still sore, as well. It seemed that as we got closer to the end of our studies, more emphasis was being placed on the combat aspects of our learning, an area in which Salem flourished. I was just praying he'd fail a test or two and never be heard from again but I knew there was slim chance for that.

  "Just watch your back," London said.

  I shrugged and headed to my room for a quick nap prior to math class. It was the one I had the most difficulty in, so I needed all of my focus. There'd be plenty of time to deal with Salem soon enough. I was almost to my room when I saw him.

  The man had to be six and a half feet tall. He was regal in his bearing and powerful in his stride. He wore the purple sash around his waist that only one person in the Valensi was allowed to wear. He was every bit as overwhelming as I had expected. We had heard all sorts of stories about the leader of the Valensi, the elected magistrate of the people and he was every bit as intimidating as forewarned.

  I quickly stood to one side and lowered my eyes as he approached, hoping he would just sweep by without noticing me, an insignificant ant, crawling around his Citadel.

  "Good evening," the magistrate said, pausing in front of me.

  I refused to raise my head. "Good evening, sir," I replied.

  "You are young Paris, are you not?"

  "Yes, sir," I said, astounded that he even knew my name.

  "I have heard good things about your progress in The School. Raise your head, child. Let me look you in the eyes."

  I lifted my head and peered into his deep gray eyes.

  "Lovely," he said. "You are growing into yourself, are you not?"

  I had no idea what he meant, so I only nodded.

  "Asaro informs me that you are most impressive on the sparring mats," he continued.

  Truly, while I was flattered by his compliments, I just wished he would move along. "Nothing to see here," I wanted to say but didn't dare. "I do my best, sir." I did not know what else to say.

  "Well, you keep doing that, young Paris and we'll see where your future takes you." Before I could answer, he was striding away, his long legs carrying him from my sight with great efficiency.

  I let out a breath of relief and continued on to my room, wondering all the while why on Earth the highest-ranking Valensi would give a shit about little old me.

  CHAPTER 14

  PRESENT

  L iam left almost two hours later, a smile in his eyes and exhaustion on his face. He wasn't bad. I figured I could have a little more fun with him later. Especially since my room was now comped for the remainder of my stay. However long that may be. After taking a nice hot shower and downing half a bottle of cheap vodka, I was ready to explore the night.

  I only had a few changes of clothes, so I dressed casually in jeans and a red tank top. I would pick up more clothes with the last of the cash I had and then figure out how to replenish my wallet. As I strolled through the front lobby, I made it a point to not look at Liam as the desk clerk grilled him on where the hell he had been for so long.

  I glanced down at the thin watch I now wore, seeing it was just past nine. I realized I had better take advantage of the longer nights of mid-spring. With summer right around the corner, I would have less time to enjoy myself. Still, most places were closed, so I did my shopping at the local Wal-Mart.
Fashion had never been a big deal to me, so the so-called superstore would suffice.

  I was picking through a few nice summer dresses that had just come in when I heard the woman's pain. I heard it in my mind, as well as the slight grunt that came from the opposing aisle. I knew I should let it go but the feeling wouldn't let me. Something was wrong here. It wasn't an accident or a one-time thing. Her pain felt mature, familiar. I moved closer to the source.

  The woman's face was contorted in pain as the man in the CDB t-shirt grasped her arm just above the elbow. He was speaking in low tones but I could hear his words as clearly as I could see the hurt in the woman's expression.

  "You'll wear what I tell you to wear and that's final, you hear me?" He caught my eye as I moved closer to the two of them. The nearest other person was a dozen meters away and these two were at the end of an aisle of women's jeans. He didn't let go of her when he addressed me. "What're you looking at, kid? Mind your own business."

  When I choose, I can move with incredible speed. I was on the prick before he could blink. I grasped two of the fingers on the hand with which he had the woman, releasing his grip with just the right amount of pressure on those fingers, twisting them back over his hand. He grunted in pain and I pressed onward until he hit his knees on the hard tile floor.

  "What the—?" he began.

  "Shut up," I commanded, leaning in to place my mouth so close to his ear that he could feel my breath as I spoke. "Shut the fuck up and listen. Listen with all of the minimal brainpower you have, asshole. I'm going to be watching you from now on. If you ever lay a harmful hand on this woman again, I will hunt you down and I will rip your dick off. Slowly. I'm your worst nightmare: a woman who fights back. And when I fight back, trust me, it'll be a very one-sided contest." I slipped into his head and the image I got almost made me laugh. I kept up the play, easing his fingers back to just this side of breaking. He couldn't stop the cry of anguish that escaped his lips. I placed mine even closer to his ear, lowering my voice to a whisper.

  "You're a stubborn little shit, aren't you? I see that ignorant image in your head, son. You know, the one where you plan on knocking me out once I let you go?" I felt the panic grow within him as he realized I had read his mind. "You better wipe that image away, Billy. You better flush it right down that toilet of a brain you've got there. Because, if you ever force me to see you again, I will make damned sure that my sweet face is the last fucking thing you ever see. We clear?" I moved back enough to see his wide eyes and nodding head. With a slight push and a harder knee, I put him on his back and then turned to the woman, ignoring Billy.

  "If you have one ounce of remaining self-worth and dignity, you will leave that piece of shit in the dust. Never look back. No one deserves that man's overbearing idiocy and hurt. Take it from me; never let a man tell you what to do. They can't even handle their own lives, let alone someone else's. Move on, girl. Make a life for yourself." I stopped, seeing that the woman was crying now. I was happy to see that it was in relief rather than submission. Maybe I'd made available a choice for her that would keep her alive. The same, perhaps, could not be said for Billy. I turned to see him trying to make his way to his feet.

  "Do not make me come see you again, William Harold Knowles. Got it?" Upon hearing his full name from me, a strange little girl who had just about broken his hand with so little effort, he only nodded, turned and trudged away. I laid a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder for a brief moment and went back to my shopping.

  CHAPTER 15

  1890, The Citadel, Age 13

  O f the initial class, only four of us survived to graduate from The School: London, Salem, Grigorio and myself. I wasn't surprised that Salem and Grigorio made it; they were both coldhearted bastards, even in their young age. London surprised me though. She had an inner fire that kept her going, even against the steepest of odds. Over the last couple of years, she'd become incredibly proficient in martial arts, and mental aptitude had always been a strong suit for her. I was proud to call her my friend.

  With all of the classes completed satisfactorily, I was in my room reading Carlyle's Sartor Resartus, thinking I probably needed to search out the mentioned book, Tristram Shandy. I had picked up a fascination for literature and read voraciously when not caught up in my schoolwork and other training. Now that I've completed my schooling, maybe I'll have more time to read, I was in the middle of thinking when someone knocked on my door. Startled, I set the book down and looked at the door, wondering if I should dare to answer it. No one ever knocked on students' doors and waited like that; they simply knocked to let us know they were entering, then did so, with or without being invited. I waited, my breath pausing in exhalation. When a second knock came, I stood and moved with speed to the door. I opened it, only to find Mistress Redmond standing there with her hands clenched behind her back, staring down at me with an expressionless face. "Yes, ma'am?"

  "Your presence has been requested by the magistrate. You are to come with me right this moment."

  I had learned upon our first encounter that one should never question the headmistress. We simply did as she instructed, always without sharing our opinions about it or exhibiting any hesitation. I followed her and closed the door behind me. I recognized a strange uneasiness at this unexpected turn of events however. I was of the understanding that there would be some sort of final presentation to the magistrate post-completion of our classes but I had no idea it would be so soon.

  We maneuvered through the halls of the Citadel, past the classrooms of The School and I realized we were headed for the gymnasium. As we turned the final corner, I saw the magistrate standing by the large entrance doors. With him was a boy who looked to be around seventeen or eighteen, with dark hair and even darker eyes. His hands fell at his side and he watched me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

  The magistrate, on the other hand, had a small smile plastered to his face that failed to reach his steel-gray eyes. "Ah, young Paris," he said by way of greeting, "I'm glad you could join us."

  "Yes, sir." I tried to ignore the fact that I'd been given little choice in the matter. I reached the door and Mistress Redmond halted and fell behind me. I faced the magistrate and nearly bowed my head again but then I felt his fingers beneath my chin, lifting my face so he could look into my eyes.

  "No," he commanded. "You should never bow your head to anyone again, my girl. I have seen your potential, young lady. I've been watching you these last few years."

  This fact shocked me and my widened eyes only brought a deeper grin to his aged face. Admittedly, he did not appear older than his fifties; however, from what I'd heard, the man had survived almost 3,000 years. True, he'd been brought into the Valensi society at a young age but the fact that he was born well before the rise of the Roman Empire was enough to evoke sincere awe in anyone who was in his presence. I watched his grin turn to a genuine smile for but a moment before fading just as quickly.

  "Yes." He moved his hand from my chin to my shoulder and with a light grip, continued the revelations. "I've an offer for you. You have performed well above average in your studies, excelling in most every area, especially in your martial arts training. You've shown great promise and will likely be a most valuable addition to the Valensi society."

  I was dumbfounded and there was nothing I could say and even less that I could think. I was stunned that a little girl like me had garnered such attention from someone so powerful. It was overwhelming to the point that I feared I might begin trembling right there in front of the mighty man who had so much faith in me, such a lowly creature by comparison.

  "With your graduation," the magistrate continued, "you may choose your age at birthing. Have you given much thought to this matter?"

  "Not really, sir," I replied, deciding there was no point in dishonesty. I had thought to at least wait until my physical stature began to peak. That was about as far as my consideration had gone.

  "That's fine," he said, as if responding to words I hadn't even s
poken. Perhaps he was thinking to himself and making his own plans for me.

  I fought to control my trepidation. I've done all I could do to survive here, I told myself. It was as difficult, if not more so, than trying to exist on the wintery streets of Bristol years earlier. Now, at the ripe old age of thirteen, I was still trying to find my place in the world. Somehow, I still felt quite alone. My thoughts only served to calm me and I relaxed under the magistrate's hand. I saw him nod, as if he understood something I had missed.

  The magistrate turned and nodded at the dark boy, summoning him to step forward. His eyes were still regarding me with intense curiosity. "This is Dusk." He moved his hand from my shoulder to that of Dusk. "He is my personal bodyguard, one of several. You see, a man in my position requires both a sense of security and a certain level of decorum about him. Are you following, young Paris?"

  "Not entirely, sir."

  "I have an opportunity for you, the opportunity to find your place in the Valensi."

  His words bore into me and I had to force myself not to take a step backward in reaction. How could he know my internal concerns? It was almost as if he'd read my mind. but that's not possible...is it? All the questions began bombarding my mind and I failed to catch his next words and had to ask him to repeat himself.

  "I want you to join the High Guard, my personal team of bodyguards. Dusk and Dawn, his sister, are the leaders and we'd like to recruit you, so to speak. Will you join them? Will you serve your new family in the most imperative of positions?"

  Once more, my thoughts ricocheted through my head so heavily as to drown out reality. A million of them scrambled for attention and I couldn't quite comprehend which should be addressed first. Here was the most powerful member of the Valensi, asking me to join his entourage of personal bodyguards. I thought of the alternatives. Are there even any? I really had no idea. Why should I continue to struggle to find my new purpose in the Valensi? Here's an opportunity to have that purpose laid out before me, my destiny set from the moment I'm birthed into my new family. How could I refuse? Why should I refuse? Would refusal even be prudent?