Authors: Marian Tee
I could literally see my body falling down on the floor while Luka called my name out urgently as he caught me, shouting for help when I didn’t respond.
It was chaos, but it was nothing like where my soul was being taken by a dark invisible force.
I wanted to kick away when I realized what I was going to see.
No.
Please God of Caros, please don’t let me see this. I didn’t want to relive this part of my life that I so wanted to bury in my unconsciousness.
STOP THIS, STOP IT WHOEVER YOU ARE! I begged and screamed and cried the words out.
Something in the darkness of my mind laughed in response.
You’re getting pathetic, Caylie. You need to remember what he did so you won’t be fooled again.
The voice sounded…like me.
But there was no time to think about that, not when my past had already come back to destroy me all over again.
“Luka, please answer the phone.”
It was the eve of my sixteenth birthday, and everyone was talking about me behind my back, their taunting smirks and the laughter in their eyes telling me they believed that I deserved not to have Luka come to my ball, not even when I had called and begged him to, not even when he and the whole world knew I had chosen him to be my First Ball Escort.
“Caylie, come back!”
It was Catherine, crying as I tore past her, my skirts hitched up so I could run faster because I felt suffocated by the pain and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to see Luka, needed to know that he was hurting me for a reason. Because there
had
to be a reason – everything would be fine as long as he had a reason for hurting me. Caros lived for reason and that was all I needed – a reason to prove to me that he wasn’t hurting me out of sheer cruelty.
“Luka, Luka, Luka.”
I was running through the woods, parallel with the cars along the highway but faster even than the most advanced engines. Before a Caro’s sixteenth birthday, we were just a little stronger, faster, and smarter than humans. But the sixteenth moon unleashed the bright powerful darkness inside us, and on that night we claimed our birthright – the gifts that allowed us to always dance one step ahead of humans.
I kept saying Luka’s name as I let my senses guide me to where he was, knowing that sooner or later he would hear me and he would know that I needed him.
“Come out, Luka! Please!”
I crossed the massive stone bridge leading to the Brethren as fast as I could, blind to the harsh beauty of the two cliffs that our ancient stronghold had been built in between. When I reached the giant metal doors that served as a secondary layer of defense, I pounded on it heavily as I cried out Luka’s name over and over.
“Please,” I begged without shame. “Please come out, Luka, please.” The uniformed guards surrounding me couldn’t even bear to gaze at the shameful sight I presented. Caros didn’t beg, but I didn’t care. Caros didn’t show emotions, but I didn’t care about that either.
“
There is nothing between us that require an explanation.”
Impatient and cold, that was the only way to describe Luka’s voice when he said those words in front of the Brethren’s own ball which I had barged into.
“Please, Luka, I need you. I’ll change. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please come back.”
That was me, debasing myself and becoming
everything
we hated about humans just to have Luka back in my life.
“Take her away and never let her be in my presence until I say otherwise.”
That was Luka, making the Brethren proud for in that moment he embodied everything a Caro should be, efficient and cold-blooded in the way he removed my presence in his life, no different from a surgeon excising a cancerous cyst.
“I thought you loved me!”
It was what I cried out as I futilely struggled against the Brethren guards dragging me away.
“Stop embarrassing yourself.”
It was Luka’s last words before turning his back on me, the very last time I saw of him until revenge brought him back to my life.
Hedonism
is not a way of life for our race. Rather, it is inherent in us, as essential to our genetics in the same way we cannot live without blood, a skill that we constantly hone by one-upping each other on who has thrown the most lavishly splendid parties for the year.
It is my belief that hedonism is our race’s greatest weakness, just like how we are crippled by our perception of showing our real feelings as taboo. We fail to see that all of these are simply meant to hide the reality that the first ever Caros in earth were
slaves
.
Yet because of the self-deception we play with ourselves we still end up enslaved, only this time it is our own vices holding the reins to our souls.
Luka Georgiades
A Dissertation on the Role of Pleasure in Caro Lifestyles
Present Time
“I’d rather you not go out with me tonight, Caylie,” Luka said the night after as he stood next to my bedroom door.
I could tell how grim he was by his voice alone, and I tried not to show how affected I was just by having his eyes follow me while I went through my wardrobe. It was unnerving and erotic, which should have been a good thing if it wasn’t
Luka
involved.
“I know you don’t, but you also know that won’t stop me.” With my academic standing certain to improve, I had been moved to Phase II of my rehabilitation program. It required me to attend major Caro social events in the presence of my rehabilitator and prove once and for all that I would not be a threat or embarrassment to our race.
“Besides, this is part of my rehabilitation, a direct order from the Brethren---”
“
Fuck the Brethren.”
Oh God of Caros, why was it that every time Luka said the word
fuck,
I wished he’d do it to me instead?
My head started to ache, nowadays a common side effect every time I thought about Luka Georgiades. A part of me still wanted revenge, but an increasingly large part of me just wanted him back in my life, in whatever way possible.
Either way, he wasn’t to know that what happened between us in his car just made me more obsessed.
Fingers suddenly settled on my shoulders and I found myself being whirled around to face Luka. “You
fainted
last night, Caylie. And when you woke up, you were hysterical. You’re obviously still upset---”
“Of course I’m upset,” I cut him off lightly without looking at him directly. I didn’t want to look at him right now, not when he was dressed like this. “You
killed
someone in front of me, Luka. But I’m not blaming you for it,” I added quickly. “It was either us or him, and I like where our heads are just fine. But you also have to admit that what happened…takes time to get over.”
Luka’s grip on my shoulders tightened. “I know that, Caylie, which is why it’s better if you stay home tonight. I’ll make the necessary excuses---”
And give him the chance to enjoy some alone time with the Moretti princess?
My lips curved into a smile that I knew didn’t reach my eyes. “Oh, please,” I drawled. “Don’t do so on my account. I wouldn’t want you to blemish your perfect record with the Brethren for something so trivial.”
I stepped back, forcing Luka to let go. I turned around instantly, and when I allowed myself to silently expel my breath.
Somehow, in the span of less than 24 hours my life had been turned upside down. Every minute of every day, I was constantly beleaguered by the urge to stake a claim on Luka. It was an intense all-consuming urge, and I just didn’t understand how or why it came to be.
Finally spotting the perfect outfit for a yacht race, I pulled it out and showed it off to Luka. “What do you think?” The dress hugged my body to perfection, the silky white top complimented by the blue-and-white striped skirt.
“I think it’s as beautiful the girl who’s going to wear it,” Luka said quietly.
My cheeks flushed in color at the unexpected words.
“I also think that you’re avoiding looking at me…and that I don’t understand.”
Breathe, Caylie. Don’t take any of this seriously.
But somehow, I still didn’t trust myself to speak, which was why I did the next best thing to remain in control and not let Luka know how much he rattled me these days.
“What. The. Hell.”
The alarm in Luka’s voice made me laugh. “What do you think I’m doing?” I kicked off my Mary Janes, shrugged off my school jacket, and started unbuttoning my blouse. When I was halfway through, I heard Luka distinctly mutter a curse word in our language, making my smile widen.
“Oh, Luka, what’s the Brethren going to think about a rehabilitator cursing in front of a violator on probation?”
He responded with another curse.
This time, I laughed freely. When I started wriggling out of my short school skirt, Luka immediately turned his back. For a moment, I let my eyes feast on him. Even the rear view of Luka’s physique was perfect, his tuxedo clinging to every muscular inch of his body faithfully. I had no doubts that it was custom designed to fit him, as was every piece of clothing in his wardrobe was.
“Are you done now?”
My impish side took over and I padded quietly towards him. “Yes.”
He turned around and immediately sucked his breath when he saw that I was only in my underwear. “
Fuck.
”
Fuck
indeed, I thought, a lump forming in my throat as I took in the full view of Luka in a suit and tie up close. No one – and I mean no one could do justice to a tux the way Luka did. He was elegance personified, the cold perfection of his beauty magnified like he had always been born wearing one. Ah God of Caros, with the way Luka looked tonight, I had no doubt every girl and woman would hate on me tonight.
Another curse, from Luka, and I glanced up, startled.
Turbulent violet eyes met mine. “Your nipples are standing,” he growled.
I shivered, not surprised that the words had my nipples extending even more, the tips straining against the scant lacy cups of my bra.
“They are, aren’t they? I think it’s because I’m gazing at a really gorgeous guy.”
Luka glared at my response, but his anger only made me feel even more turned on. “Are you saying you are like this with other men?”
I smiled sweetly. “Not just yet---ah!”
Luka was suddenly on me, one hand gripping my hair in a firm possessive grip while his other hand traced my lips.
I wanted to moan then and there, but pride made me swallow it back.
“
Don’t
be like this with any other man, Caylie,” Luka gritted out.
“Not now,” I agreed with a mocking smile. “But when we’re done indulging---” He growled, and the sound was so beautifully raw it was almost like a tangible caress.
“I’m serious,
mi vavli
.” Luka’s icy tone was in direct contrast with the heat of his gaze, and my breath hitched when he retraced my lips, tempting me to taste it. “If I even catch you looking at any other man but me the wrong way---”
The promise in his eyes had me wishing he could find a reason this moment to punish me. I almost said so when I caught myself in time.
Luka pulled his finger away from my lips, probably having seen me suddenly pale. “Caylie?”
Shit, shit, shit.
I had almost forgotten that Luka Georgiades wasn’t to be trusted, that at the end of the day I was a pawn and the Brethren was still his queen.
I forced a smile. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Luka. I’m only like this with you because I trust you.” The irony of the words almost made me want to laugh. “You’re like a brother to me.”
But if I thought that would satisfy him, I was wrong. Luka’s voice had taken on a chilling note when he answered, “But I’m
not
your brother.”
“That’s just a technicality.”
Frowning, I tried to think why he was suddenly acting aloof. And then it hit me. “Don’t worry, Luka. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior tonight so that everyone will see what a good rehabilitator you are.”
“Caylie---”
“I won’t ruin your chances for becoming an Advisor.” Luka was about to speak again, but this time I wasn’t in any mood to hear more of his lies. Whatever he had to say would never erase the truth that our past revealed.
I was only important to him for as long as I could help him with the Brethren.
~~~
Unlike with yacht races for humans, those organized by and for Caros were always held at night. Low visibility conditions and stormy weather weren’t exactly problems for our kind. If anything, it only added to the excitement and tonight’s atmosphere was deliriously so.
Luka and I automatically posed for the cameras the moment we stepped out of the limo, Luka’s hand going to the small of my back. There was more press coverage tonight than usual, largely because the Delicazzis were tonight’s hosts. No yacht race was as prestigious as the one held by Caros’ most ancient family, the purest of us all, and invitations to it were a social achievement in itself.
“When was the last time you attended a race?” Luka asked as he guided me down the red carpet leading to the boardwalk.
The last time he brought me to one
, I thought with a pang. Not wanting to lie, I quickly changed the subject, asking, “Where’s the Delicazzis’ yacht?”
Luka pointed.
“Oh,” I breathed in wonder as my gaze followed his line of sight. The sheer size of the yacht was amazing, probably six hundred fifty feet long or more. But the way it was decorated made it even more divine, the entire deck transformed into a floating boardwalk fair. There were even people selling cotton candy on the sides, right next to those who sold hotdogs and burgers and everything else you could have seen in Central Park.
Taking my hand, Luka escorted me up and it was even more breathtaking up close. Aboard the yacht, I found myself transported to a world like no other. This was no ordinary boardwalk fair. If anything, it was like a utopian version of a small-town festival in Alabama and a charming fair in Europe.
Opposite the concessionary stands, the pathways were lined with quaint-looking boutiques and Parisian-styled cafes as well as carnival booths of every kind. Once in a while, you’d see clowns or mimes entertaining the crowd and what little I saw of antics were enough to make me laugh.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Luka shook his head briefly when a waiter in a sailor’s uniform offered us cocktails.
“Absolutely.” Unlike Luka, I totally had no problems enjoying blood-flavored cocktails. Just the smell of it was mouthwatering.
Blood oranges,
literally. Returning the emptied shot glass to the waiter, I told Luka, “This is what I love most about the Delicazzis. They never ever make anything explicitly, well, you know, sexual.”
Luka blinked. Twice. “Sexual?”
Shit.
Where did that come from? That blood orange cocktail must have gone straight to my head with my empty stomach.
“Caylie?” Luka’s head cocked to the side at an inquisitive angle. “Explain please.” He said it politely, but there was no mistaking the command underlining it.