Constricted: Beyond the Brothel Walls (14 page)

I smiled, meeting her gaze, and said, “I own nothing. She owns my heart.” Tomas looked at me and chuckled. “Come, you have but minutes to decide. I have documents and tickets for all of you.” He handed each girl an envelope containing documents and Arcadian money. The passports still required photos, but that was an easy task. “Once we arrive you’ll receive food, clothing, and shelter.”

The same girl narrowed her eyes. “What do we owe you?”

“You weren’t listening to him. The
ma petit fee
wants you freed and taken care of; it’s as simple as that
ma feu
.” I crooked an eyebrow at Tomas, and he shrugged, attempting to hide his grin.

“Viva la France,” she murmured. She stepped closer, and I realized I was wrong. The woman appeared older, closer to thirty by the lines etching her eyes. “Heard that in a movie once.”

He grinned wide, and I hid my chuckle.
“Oui, Viva la France indeed.”

T
omas boarded the train early that evening with all the girls —all totaling sixty. He posed as their teacher along with the dark-haired woman from Hampshire House. Dressed in heavy, matching new coats and fleece-lined slacks, I thought they were all passable. The older women scoffed at our plan, insisting that no one would believe them. My heart tugged; they too had fallen prey to the lies of a shameful man.

Were they as strong as Kor? Not everyone handled that type of truth, but we didn’t have much of a choice. I’d make sure Tomas hired doctors; the special kind too that studied emotions and the brain. The youngest girls would fare the best. Kor said Uncle Jules hadn’t touched her until she was older even though he made sure she watched. That hadn’t begun until she was eight. I sighed, counting a quarter of them younger, and prayed that I was right. They weren’t free of memories or knowledge of the brothel, but maybe the scars wouldn’t run as deep. Maybe God would wash away their suffering.

I wished them all a farewell, promising I’d see them soon. I had asked the black-haired girl, named Sophia, to deliver a message to Korrigan. Just another note, but its words held deep meaning. “I’ll see you again when the last cage unlocks. Then perhaps your heart can belong to me as mine belongs to you, forever.”

I remained behind to scope out Egan House and awaited word from Tomas. We planned for the ladies and girls to stay between our two residences until more suitable arrangements could be found. I had the land and money, but time wasn’t on our side when we left Nova Scotia. Still, cramped in our homes where food stayed abundant was better than the whorehouse.

I shivered at the memory of Kor eating on her birthday. Never had she eaten real food, and now Tomas would have sixty more mouths to delight with his culinary creations. I laughed; that’s heaven on this vile earth for him.

My phone chirped, and I glanced down as I approached Egan house from the neighboring rooftops. They’d arrived safe in Arcadia, and I’d sighed an unnecessary breath of relief, before turning my attention back to the converted row home. Egan House –reformatory for reprogramming boys, the sign read.

It didn’t make much sense when combined with reformatory. What were they up to? My eyes scanned over the dark building. There wasn’t a generator, and as the sun set, no lights came on. I didn’t need electricity or steam power to see the abuse. The images that appeared within the window frames and the screams churned my stomach as I stalked the home from the rooftop across the deserted street. Those sounds haunted me, but Tomas insisted I wait for his return.

I paced the rooftop and ignored the snow as it fell. No, he would not have waited for me. We were different. That much became clear as I watched others pass the homes, blind to the abuse, and deaf to their cries. My head hung low. Was I so different? That used to be me too. Kor, my sweet angel, opened my eyes to the truth I’d already known.

On the second day, I’d sent off a flurry of texts to Tomas, explaining the rape of the two young boys held inside. When I witnessed the acts, I’d puked blood. Texting what I saw had churned my stomach again. They were reprogramming them all right. I blinked the tears away and waited for his response.

He’d replied that their train was delayed; a nor’easter hit and the tracks were unsafe. They were rerouted to Nova Scotia by steamship. They would arrive within an hour, as it led right to the port of New Halifax. Tomas advised me to proceed with caution, but agreed that he wouldn’t have waited. Besides, the undead held an advantage over the living, but I heeded his words. Demons were involved; how far did they reach?

Six grown men preying on two young boys, what was the world coming to when this went unnoticed? The laws of this country forbade it even after the collapse. Garlands’ countries differed, allowing both slaves and contracts, but consensual slaves were at least eighteen there too. They held the right to say no to sexual clauses, although most hadn’t objected. The difference those clauses provided protected the slaves. But even I knew many owners managed to starve and beat their property –no matter the law. Slaves didn’t have the opportunity to turn their owners in, and many feared what would happen to them afterward.

I jumped from my perch; the air bit at my face. My feet skipped over the icy sidewalk as I approached the house from the rear. Dusk fell and darkness crept over the area. Snow covered the grounds and nestled into the trees. Light as a feather, I shuffled over the frozen ground, careful not to break the surface. The home fell silent as two well-dressed men departed, laughing together as if they hadn’t just whipped a defenseless child. I waited, skulking behind the large oak tree. They had to pay.

“Excuse me,” I said, keeping my head lowered. My hair covered my face, and I glanced at their feet. The last man recognized me, but I wasn’t ready to reveal myself just yet. “Do you happen to know the time?”

They glanced at each other, and the taller one spoke. “This is private property.” The shorter one stepped forward, clicking a metal object in his hand. The scent of sex and gunpowder crinkled my nose. My lip curled up, and I tossed my head back in a fit of laughter. “He’s … mad.”

“Now, now why would you say such a thing?” My hands reached into my pockets, and I shrugged my shoulders. The metal caught a bit of moonlight. A small pistol, with an old-fashioned barrel that held six rounds of ammunition. No matter, he couldn’t hurt me, but the man hadn’t known that tiny detail. “Such a pity though, bringing a gun into a fight you can’t possibly win. Tsk, Tsk gentlemen, I expected more from Jules.”

The gun fired, and I allowed it to hit me in the chest. Two, three, four, five, and at last, six shots as he’d unleashed the weapons’ contents. I’d stood there stoically and had allowed each bullet to strike my body. Pain sliced as each one had bitten my flesh, and blood poured from the punctures, but I endured. The two men stood there, eyes wide and pasty white skin frozen. I flicked the bullets from my chest, keeping my facial features calm even though my insides screamed from the burning intrusion. “See now why’d you go and do a thing like that?”

My fangs extended, and I lunged, tearing into one throat while my hand strangled the taller man to the ground. His top hat landed without a sound, but the smothered cries reached my ears. My booted foot fell over his neck, but he struggled as I drank his buddy’s polluted essence. Hot fresh blood poured down my throat, but the sour tang didn’t alleviate my hunger. Kor’s blood did that, and so much more.

“Any last words?” I smirked and bent down. He too reeked of sex and fear. His hand trembled as it tried to reach for me. I was too quick, slicing my fangs into his jugular. My eyes closed as I drank my fill, spilling plenty over the sidewalk and myself. I envisioned Kor’s sweet smile, the sway of her seductive hips, and her innocent eyes. Ache ripped through my heart thinking about my angel, thinking of what these men had done to her.

I tossed the bodies into the bushes and made my way toward the tree again. Four men stepped onto the back patio, and the wind carried their whispers and burning scent. Demons or at least one of them was a fiend of darkness. Prayed, I hoped I was wrong.

“Should be back by now.” This was easy, almost too easy, but there was nothing they too could destroy me. “Shush, I hear something.” I did too. My phone buzzed from my back pocket. Messages from Tomas flared across the screen.

“Korrigan gone. Mellissa and Jobe gone. Signs of struggle. My men dead.”
My knees sunk to the ground, ignoring the biting cold. Jules had warned me not to leave her alone. The dirty man wrote it into the contract. A tear slid down my cheek as footsteps approached.

“What do we ‘ave here boys?” I didn’t bother looking up as they whispered among themselves. Blood covered my clothing and my face. They knew I was a killer, if not a vampire.

“Boss, is this the one he told us to watch for?” My eyes slid to each of the clean-cut faces, scanning their beady eyes for any clue. All four men dressed alike in dark blazers and slacks, but it meant nothing of their character. Monsters, oh Kor you were right, I thought. I hadn’t believed her when she’d uttered those words, but I was a saint compared to these men.

The blood stained from my mouth, I stood, towering over the men by a few inches. “Where is Jules; where is Korrigan?”

“Yes.” The ugliest one smiled, flashing jagged and yellowed teeth. Rahat, he was the demon. Those eyes glowed red as the three men’s eyes followed. “He’s the one.”

I cursed myself silently. Demons, real ones that hailed from hell, were difficult to control and fight. Their blood tasted like battery acid and burned from the inside out. Even though it wouldn’t kill me, I tried already, it was a bitch to heal. My lips pressed together, releasing a silent whistle to human ears. Lucky for me, I wasn’t alone. But I prayed there was enough humanity inside of the beast to recognize his brother was in danger.

Demon Spawn snorted; his hooves stomped the ground. “What’s this? A horse?” They laughed as the beast tossed his head. He grew agitated as they continued to taunt him. Couldn’t the demon sense his own kind?

I spat at his feet. “Show him respect, sirs,” I hissed. Those who didn’t typically ended up dead.

“No mate—” Another demon dropped from the sky. Large black wings beat a stiff breeze. My brother’s hooves sizzled over the sidewalk as the flamed steps melted the snow and ice. Steam rose up, giving me cover to move. The men cried out and screamed, but it would come down to the demon and me. My brother, I didn’t think he was strong enough to take him on. The other humans were mere pawns, sheep to control and wreak havoc. “What are you?” he bellowed, black wings expanding. “You are no ordinary vampire and that,” he smirked, “is no ordinary horse.”

I chuckled, thinking he had no idea. “Take me to Uncle Jules and I’ll tell you.”

“What’s a whore to you?” The wind picked up, dispersing the fog. The howl was different, and I narrowed in on the whoosh. The demon flexed his dark wings, clearing my cover away. My fists clenched, and I stepped toward him.

Demon Spawn nudged me with his warm snout, and I turned to my brother. He lowered to the ground. My mouth gaped, uncertain of what was happening. His head moved, gesturing to the saddle. Swallowing, I mounted, securing the reigns. Understanding washed over me; he knew where Korrigan was. Maybe there remained some hope for my brother’s humanity after all.

Chapter Eleven

One week earlier …

E
very morning and evening, I sought out any signs of Petre’s return. Between those times, I would venture into his room. My heart ached for him, ached to say the words I’d held back, but I let the tendrils of pain slice through me as a reminder. The little knick knacks in there reminded me of his brief presence in my life and how it had been more than enough time to lose my heart. The clean scent of Petre’s soap, his spicy aftershave, surrounded my mind even outside. I allowed it to remind me of what I’d done.

A laugh brewed inside, but I swallowed it away. Like the whore Jules trained me to become, I’d thrown myself at Petre. A true gentleman, if such an idea existed outside those childish tales, he’d denied me. My lip grew sore as I chewed upon it. I’d never been rejected before … not like that. But it wasn’t his rejection that had boiled my blood.

He’d run away.

After a week, I shook my head at the thought, and the dark tendrils flung into my eyes. He’d been within his rights to deny me, and I’d respected him more for it. Our playful bedroom antics were exciting and freeing, but I wasn’t ready to hand over my innocence. Fairy tales and archaic notions had long become a distant memory, yet that was what Petre offered me along with his fiery kisses.

Vampires, magic, and demons hadn’t bothered me either. Mellissa and Jobe had told me the secrets he’d kept. Again, I’d understood why and forgiven him, but why had he run? Yes, my temper had blown up in his face, and yes, I hated the names I’d called him, but underneath the lies and pain I had fallen in love with the man who’d saved me.

A sigh tickled my chest. Mellissa, oh how I loved her, even told me I was the first he had ever loved. My fists clenched at the thought of another touching him, but she assured me none had lasted long. The women would arrive and not but days later they would depart.

“You are different,” she’d said. “He never took any of them out and none had met Tomas.” Mellissa’s words replayed along with the events as I stared off into the snowy afternoon sky. Grey and beautiful, the clouds rolled in, but their prize wasn’t the one I sought. At least now, when I closed my eyes, I saw Petre. Long black hair framed his dashing smile and silvery eyes. The thought of him grinning at me or dragging me in for a kiss quickened my pulse and stirred my insides. Why had I gone and ruined everything?

“Lord Petre will be gone quite a while.” The cold penetrated my bones, and I rubbed my arms. “Korri lass, get back inside before ye catch a cold.” My eyes rolled although Mellissa couldn’t see with my back turned toward her. Too busy watching the horizon and the footprints in the snow disappear.

I pretended they belonged to Petre, and he’d made them about a week ago. The fat flakes dropped and erased his memory. The snow blanketed his existence in the fluffy layers.

“Why didn’t I tell him the truth?” I whispered into the harsh wind. The bitter cold sliced its reply through my cheek. Footsteps crunched behind me, and Mellissa wrapped a shawl around my shoulders.

“What truth lass?”

A tear blinked free, sliding its warmth down my frozen cheek. The words replayed in my mind. Love, I couldn’t say the word. Men had responded to need though, and I’d inserted that one instead. My hands clenched around the scratchy shawl. I had needed him too, needed him to love me too. A thousand times, the evening replayed in my mind. Petre had been different from the start. My heart broke with his rejection. Not because we didn’t have sex, but because he left me alone again. Because he hadn’t torn down the door. What had he said my second day here? Petre had keys and locks wouldn’t stop him, yet he hadn’t opened the damn door.

“I … love him.” The words tickled like a whisper against my cheek.

Mellissa patted my arms. “I know, Korri.” How had she known?
“He left you a note; come back inside now I ken see yer ready to read it.”

“Why would you keep this from me?” I hadn’t known whether I should laugh, cry, or break something. Petre hadn’t just disappeared; he’d left me a letter. The absurdity though was that he knew I couldn’t read. I eyed her as my mouth fell open. “Why?”

Mellissa said nothing as she guided me back inside and sat me down at the kitchen table. Jobe tended the fire in the massive hearth. She reached for the letter and opened it.

“Ye weren’t ready, lass.” My mouth dropped, but Mellissa was right. I swore she knew me better than anyone else did, even me. The chair squeaked across the damp floor. She placed the letter in front of me, and I traced my name with my finger. Reading turned out harder than I’d thought, but I was still learning.

“Angel,” she said and smiled. “Thomas and I are returning to Delphia to free the slaves. I can only hope this offers you solace.” My eyebrow rose at the word. “That means comfort, lass. Shall I continue?” I nodded and forced a smile. Jobe walked to the stove and set the kettle to boil. He leaned in to kiss Mellissa’s cheek and sat next to me. “This is something I must do, and it can’t wait another moment. Every day that passes is another day of hell for you, and one more day of freedom for Jules and his men. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but you remain in my thoughts and heart every moment we are apart. Tom and I won’t rest until he’s destroyed. While I cannot undo the pain he’s caused you, I will make sure he never hurts another again. I love you always and forever, Petre.”

My mouth dropped open again. He gave me everything, and I couldn’t find the courage to tell him that I loved him too. What kind of woman did that make me? Horrible, I was a horrible person. Immortal or not, he put himself in danger for me. My head sunk to the table, and the tears fell in buckets.

“Now, now dearie, Lord Petre and Tomas know what they’re doing.” They didn’t understand; no one did. Before he walked into my life, I’d known my place. A slave, trained to pleasure men. Nothing else had mattered because I had nothing else. Petre showed me the truth, and even then, I’d struggled to process my place and pushed him aside.

Who’d want to admit to being that naïve and stupid?

“Here ye must eat,” Jobe said, pushing a plate of hot biscuits in front of me. Mellissa retrieved a butter crock and a container filled with red goo. “This tis jam.” He opened the biscuit and slathered the butter on both sides. “After the butter melts, ye add a dab, lass.” Jobe handed the prepared biscuit over, and I took a small bite. The three flavors melted over my tongue, but the sweet and tart jam stole the show. I groaned and closed my eyes. “See we’ll fatten ye up yet.”

My cheeks warmed, and I couldn’t get over the idea of gaining weight. The hardest part of this new life revolved not around what Jules did to me physically, but on the mental and emotional level. His rules were lies meant to punish us, and we didn’t know any better. Every time I turned around, one of my new friends contradicted Jules. I sighed in half bliss and confusion. Why couldn’t I allow his rules and lies to go away? Instead, I clung to them like an old friend.

A knock on the back door startled me from my thoughts. I turned, eyeing the concealed visitors. In the time I’d lived here, we’d had Tomas over, but no one else. The two black-haired men didn’t unnerve me as he had, but Jobe and Mellissa exchanged a glance that spoke volumes. “I’m not expecting anyone; Petre made no mention of visitors.”

Neither of them budged, and I didn’t want any harm to come to our guests. The weather grew worse by the minute. My chair scooted across the wooden floor, and I’d risen to let our guests in before they died of exposure. They knocked again and huddled closer as the snow fell harder. Big fat flakes dropped onto their heads but melted. I smiled and turned the knob.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” I said, opening the door and waving them inside. Mellissa and Jobe blinked as they trailed their eyes between the two men and me. Their faces twisted, and their eyes darkened.

“Thank you,” both men replied.

“Milady, a word, please,” Mellissa said and tossed her head toward the front room. I excused myself from our visitors and followed her. Jobe stayed behind and spoke with the men. I couldn’t make out his words, but the tone wasn’t friendly. Why was he being rude to our guests? “We need to get you out of here and over to Lord Tomas’ residence.”

I blinked; why did I have to go there? I opened my mouth to speak, but she covered it with her hand. “Go, run to the stables.” My heart pounded, and I stared at her dark brown eyes. Stables…but Petre told me to stay away from the stables. Every time I tried to protest, she put her hand over my mouth again. “Go, put yer boots on too. We’ll be there soon, lass.”

She grabbed my shoulders as the voices in the kitchen rose. Jobe shouted, and I scurried to throw my boots on. Mellissa opened the door and shoved me outside, tossing my coat that hung from the hook. I caught it one handed. “Go,” she mouthed and made the sign of the cross with her fingers. I swallowed and ran toward the stables, praying to a God I didn’t believe in.

If the men were dangerous then why’d they let me open the door? Glass crashed, drowning out the sound of my heartbeat as I reached the stable door. I snuck inside, hoping the snow kept up and covered my tracks. The horses shuffled, making soft noises, and the yellow one I’d met on my first day stuck its head out. I couldn’t remember its name, but those large brown eyes comforted me. Voices drew nearer, but the howling wind drowned the words out. My body shook, and I glanced around for a place to hide just in case.

There was nowhere to go aside from in the stall with the horses. Petre feared me alone with the horses or was it just his brother? I couldn’t recall, and I didn’t want to test the theory now. My feet stepped backwards until I hit the wall. There rested a shovel, and I grasped it, lifting the rusted end into the air. A dark figure loomed outside and turned the knob. My breath held as the door creaked, inching open.

“Put it down, Korrigan.” Red eyes peered at me through the dark hood. “You can’t hurt me.” He stepped closer, but I knew that voice. Fill the room with a thousand men, and I’d remember the tone. “Come now sweetheart, don’t make me hurt you.”

I blinked. Where were Mellissa and Jobe? My eyes glanced around him, searching for them, as Jules stepped inside and closed the door behind him. His arms spread wide, and the animals stirred. The air thickened as his energy speared through my center. He closed in on me, pushing my back to the icy wall. “Leave me alone, Jules,” I said, and my voice trembled.

He stopped, allowing his hood to fall. The old disgusting image I’d grown up with had dissipated. Lines and saggy skin had disappeared, revealing youth and beauty no man should possess. My head tilted at the façade, the trick he’d pulled. Magic, but how? “Am I beautiful to you now?” He slithered his words.

Jules’ tongue darted over his lip, but it was black and forked. He stepped closer, closing the gap between us. Beautiful or not, he disgusted me. “You are a fiend,” I spat.

“Yes, and so are you,” he said, removing the shovel from my hands. The metal thudded on the straw covered ground. His fingers caressed my face, and I glanced away. Uncle Jules grasped my chin and forced my gaze. “Mine, darling, you are mine forever. He promised me you.”

He? Not Petre, no he’d never promise me to another. My teeth gritted against the pain as his nails dug into my skin. “Liar … I … am yours … no longer.”

His mouth dipped to my ear. Jules’ tongue slid against my cheek. “On the contrary, your soul belongs to me, and so does your body.” I opened my mouth to speak, and his hand flew across my face. The tang of blood filled my mouth, and I spat it back in his face. Jules struck me again, and my jaw cracked from his fist. The tears I used to hold fell, and they refused to stop. “Two weeks and you’ve forgotten all the rules.” His belt unhooked, clattering free. His hand flung it back, and I grimaced, bracing for the swing. But he fastened it around my neck instead. I choked, gagging on my blood and spittle. Jules tugged me to my feet, and those dark eyes made me shiver. He rubbed his hard on against my backside and nibbled my ear. Unlike Petre’s caresses, Jules’ was like a million bugs crawling over my skin. “Now darling, show me your room. Show me where he touched you. Was he a better lover? Did he make you scream? Oh baby, I could do that too.”