by Raven Dark
“No nausea. But I have a feeling I had a headache before. My head feels foggy.”
“Okay. I’ll give you some mint tea for the dizziness. The dizziness and the fogginess should pass in a few hours. If it doesn’t, let me know. You must be thirsty.”
“Parched. I feel like I could give a camel lessons in water consumption.”
Doc grinned.
Sheriff filled a mug with water from a pitcher on the nightstand. He lifted my head and propped it up with pillows, then poured the water carefully between my parched lips.
“Drink slowly. Are you hungry?”
The cool water soothed my throat. My stomach growled, but I didn’t feel like I had the strength to eat, so I shook my head. When I’d had enough of the water, Sheriff set the mug down.
“Thank you, Master.” I settled back into the pillows, hating the fogginess that filled my head, making it difficult to form coherent thoughts.
“I’ll make you that tea as soon as I give you a quick examination.” Doc listened to my heart. The coolness of the metal stethoscope on my skin made me look down. He hadn’t had to pull aside a shirt to listen, and he was careful to keep the blankets covering my bare chest.
“I’m naked. Why am I naked?”
Neither of them answered, Doc checking my blood pressure.
I caught sight of Gore, still standing at the doors, stoic, pretending he didn’t see anything. The guard remained unobtrusive, yet something about him gave the impression he was ready to leap into action when needed.
Sheriff’s personal guard never came into his rooms, and he rarely stood like that, like a sentry on watch, waiting for danger.
Alarm made my muscles tense. “Master, why is Gore here? Did something happen? Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”
Doc finished his examination and leaned back. “She seems fine, Sheriff, other than the symptoms she mentioned.” Seeing my agitation, Doc gave a nod. “Setora, what do you remember before you passed out?”
I sighed and furrowed my brow. “Nothing. There are images, but they’re jumbled, and they don’t make any sense.”
“What did you see?” Sheriff squeezed my hand.
“A woman. In the sun. Reaching for me. She needs my help. I think I had a dream, but I don’t remember it.”
“What does the woman look like?” Sheriff asked.
“I don’t remember. But she was holding out her arms to me. Calling me. I…I don’t know.”
But that wasn’t true. I did remember her. No, I remembered the feeling she created in me. Only it couldn’t be the woman I thought it was. It just couldn’t be.
“That’s all right, Setora,” Doc soothed. “People don’t usually remember anything that happens right before a seizure. Sometimes people lose hours or even days. The memories may return in time, but if they don’t, that’s okay.”
But then why did he look so worried? And besides, I had the discomfiting sense that this wasn’t the first time I didn’t remember something I should have. Something someone did or said, only there was no medical or logical reason I didn’t recall it.
“What’s the last thing you do remember?” Doc asked.
“I…um.” I closed my eyes, trying to think back. “I remember us returning to the Grotto, but that was days ago. Wasn’t it?” I looked at both men. “There was a meeting with the Brothers of Brimstone. Or was it a party? I talked to Cherry about Crash. T-Man was there. And then… I don’t know. Everything else is jumbled. Wait…there was a crystal. And then a voice, calling to me, but I don’t remember whose it was or why.”
For some reason, that voice filled me with dread. Horrible, bone-deep dread.
“So the last clear memory you have is of the party after the funeral?” Sheriff looked at Doc. “She’s lost most of the last three days, Doc.”
“All right. Setora, you rest for now. I’ll be back in a bit with that tea.” He stood. “Sheriff. Remember what I said before.”
“I got it, Doc.” He sounded like his old, gruff self again.
“Wait, Doc, tell me what happened to me.”
“Sheriff’ll tell you. I’ll be back.” Doc patted my leg. Then he left, and Gore shut the doors after him.
As soon as Doc was gone, I turned my focus to Sheriff, waiting for him to fill me in.
Sheriff looked away from me for a moment, took a deep breath and let it out as his gaze met mine again. “All right. I’m just going to tell it to you straight. Earlier when we were in the club house, you went into some sort of trance and started talking like someone else. You, the Setora that I see sitting here now, were…gone.”
“Gone,” I repeated lamely.
“Yes. You started talking, telling us all that you were Julian.”
“Julian? The person Damian and Matias talked about?”
The man in my dreams. The man with no face. At once, I knew the man named Julian and the man in my dreams were one and the same, though I couldn’t have said how.
“We think so, yes.” Sheriff watched me intently, for what, I didn’t know.
I clamped down my panic, reaching for a tight grip on logic. “How is that possible? I mean, a person talking through me? Surely you all don’t believe that. Right?”
Sheriff held my hand, his big warm palm engulfing mine. “I do. We all do. He…the voice, Julian, he knew things, Setora. Things you couldn’t know. And there’s more.”
The fear electrifying my veins morphed into fresh panic. I rubbed my forehead with shaking fingers, grasping at memories that were slowly starting to become clearer, but still not enough to solidify into truth. “He was inside me, Master? Talking through me, and I couldn’t stop him?”
Sheriff squeezed my wrist. “It’s all right, Setora. It seems like he can only surface if you’re sleeping or in some kind of meditative state. He can’t do anything to you while you’re awake.”
I shook my head. His words should have soothed me, but I had this horrible image of this Julian surfacing at any moment. Making me say things I would never say, do things I would never do. I swore I could feel something under my skin, something living there that wasn’t me.
“Wait. You said there’s more, Master.”
He stood up and walked to the small bar across the room. “Hawk had an idea after this all happened and brought Dice and Gretle to the clubhouse. Seems that the two of them had more information about this Julian character.”
I waited while he filled a glass with whiskey and watched him throw it back in one swallow.
“They said Julian is a Violet. An old one, someone who people talked about in stories over the past few generations.” He poured another drink.
“But there’s no such thing.” I shook my head in disbelief. “They’re wrong, there are no male Violets, I would have heard about them growing up.”
“Well, whether he is or isn’t, the man—or whatever the fuck he is—has been in your head, Setora. With all these different abilities of yours we’ve been discovering lately, it makes sense if this creep is a Violet. How else would he be able to get in your head?”
I knew the question was rhetorical. I had no answers. Believing in the possibility of someone possessing another, to get access to another’s body and dreams, to their thoughts…
“I feel sick, Master.”
Sheriff quickly brought me a wash basin that sat on his nightstand. Only water and bile came up, but I heaved until my head pounded.
After wiping my face with a cool towel, Sheriff took away the wash basin and told Gore to get Doc. I closed my eyes and lay back on the pillow.
Sheriff combed my hair away from my brow with his fingers. “No more talking. Stressing out is only going to make you more sick. We’re going to figure this out. Already have a plan of action, in fact.”
My eyes opened. “A plan?”
“Apparently, other Violets have been experiencing the same thing. The general of the Angels of Mayhem got in contact with us. He’s invited us up to his place at Hollow Hill. He thinks his Vio
let has some answers.”
“Can he come here?”
“No, we’re going to him.”
“We?”
He smiled wryly. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. We’re leaving early in the morning, so I need you to get some rest. I know you have questions, but they’ll have to wait. Rest, all right?”
I nodded just as Doc entered the room and Gore closed the doors behind him again.
“I told her no more talking, that she’s to rest. Tell her, Doc.” Sheriff got off the bed and made room for Doc who had a steaming cup of something in his hand.
“That’s right.” Doc handed me the hot mug. “Here, drink this. It will settle your stomach. I added a light sedative to it that will get you back to sleep.” At my worried look, he added, “The restful kind, without the nightmares.”
I drank the tea slowly, then laid back once I finished it, burrowing into the pillow. I wanted to hide, to be anywhere but in this moment. Maker, this was too much.
Was it truly possible that this Julian person was real? The man in my dreams? Worse, was he really doing this to me and other Violets? He’d made me say things, but was that all he could do? Could he make me do things, control my body? Just thinking about it all made me hyper aware of my inner being. Was he there now? I could almost sense...something. Or was that merely my own fear playing tricks on me? Tears stung my eyes and I blinked them back.
Doc left the room after saying he’d check on me in a few hours. Gore remained, which was still strange, but I found myself too tired to care. Lightheaded fatigue started to take hold. It was like the whole world had gone topsy-turvy.
“I’m sorry, Master. Here I am again, putting everyone’s day on hold, causing concern.”
The bed shifted, then Sheriff was lying beside me. He turned my face to his. “Hush. We’re taking care of you. You need to let us. None of this is your fault, and you certainly didn’t choose it.”
In the low lighting, I could just make out a discoloration on his wrist. I leaned up and looked closely at it. There was a bruise, one that looked like it had been a deep purple, but it had already darkened, the way a bruise does after a day or so.
“Master, what happened to your wrist?”
He pulled his arm back and sat up, covering his wrist with his other hand.
My heart plummeted. “I did that.” I took his wrist and caressed the discolored skin. “I hurt you, didn’t I?” My voice cracked.
“Relax, woman. It looks worse than it feels, believe me.”
“But I hurt you.”
“No, you didn’t. Look. See?” He swiveled his wrist. “It’s fine, don’t make a fuss.”
“Are you sure? Are you all right?”
“If you ask me that again, I’ll spank you.”
The teasing sparkle in his eyes and the hint of a smirk on his lips made my eyes sting again. He was supposed to be angry. I’d hurt my master, and he was making jokes like it didn’t matter at all. My heart swelled until it hurt.
“Master…what else did…he make me do? Did I hurt anyone else?”
“No. You freaked Beast out a little, but that’s all.”
“I freak… Oh no. The Brothers of Brimstone. Are they…did I wreck things for all of you?”
“Not at all. On the contrary, they’ve been worried about you. We’re patching them in before we leave. Nothing has changed.”
I deflated against the pillows. “Did I, I mean, Julian, do anything else?”
“Nah. You just talked. Revolution is coming, you said. Do those words mean anything to you?”
“No. Nothing.”
“You—he said another word. Kren. Do you know that word?”
“No. Master, I’m sorry. I don’t understand how he…he’s only supposed to be in my dreams. How did he…”
As my fear mounted, so did the feeling of something foreign in me. Was it Julian’s mind? It was a faint buzzing just beneath the surface of my thoughts, not unlike what I felt when another Violet was near. Only this presence seemed…darker somehow.
“We’ll find the answers, sweetheart. Besides Mayhem’s invite, Hawk sent out another letter to Master Leif, telling him what’s happened.”
Hope bloomed in my chest but died as quickly as it appeared.
“Master,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “What does he want with me? If he’s a Violet—Maker, even that is hard to believe.”
“Setora.” Sheriff took my shoulders gently.
But I didn’t want to answer him. I felt a million miles away from him then, alone, dread pressing in on me. I covered my face and fought the sob that bubbled up.
“Setora, look at me.”
I shook my head and looked at the ceiling. “I want him out. Now. What if he makes me hurt someone? I mean really hurt them? The Brothers of Brimstone. Or Cherry. The Four. You.”
“But you didn’t hurt anyone. Look at me. Setora.” He took my face and made me meet his eyes. “I want you to listen to me.”
Panic made it hard to breathe, but I took a few deep breaths, the soothing sound of his voice and the warmth of his hands grounding me in the here and now, where it was only us.
“Listen to me. Are you listening to me?”
“I’m listening, Master,” I whispered, feeling suddenly small and fragile.
“Good. Because I’m only going to say this once, so I want you to hear—really hear—what I’m telling you. I’ll tattoo it on the inside of your eyelids if I have to.”
He meant every word. I gave a half sob, half laugh.
“We will figure this out. You will let us help you, and you will not start retreating into someplace that I can’t reach you. You belong to the Four and to the Legion. You are mine, and we’re going to tackle this together. That’s not going to change, ever. No matter what this fucker Julian does. I don’t care if he makes you come after us all in our sleep with a fucking hatchet. We’re not going anywhere, and you are never getting rid of us.”
I could only stare at him through my tears. The promise of safety he offered and his need to take care of me wrapped itself around me like the warmest blanket on the chilliest night. His voice and his eyes were filled with such warmth it pierced through some of the dread, the panic.
“Master, what if I hurt someone?” My words were starting to slur; the tea Doc gave me was taking effect.
“If he makes you do anything like that, I’ll lock you up in here so the only person you’ll hurt is me. I can take it. I’ll chain you to this bed and have a word or two with Julian if he shows himself again. And then we’ll call a priest.”
His attempt at making me laugh fell short. I was too numb, and sleep, once again, called. I wanted to fight it, and I tried but only started to shake.
Sheriff pulled me close and held me tight. “Shhh.” He smoothed my hair and kissed the top of my head, rocking me slowly in his arms. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll take care of you.”
I let him hold me, surrendering to the effects of Doc’s tea and Sheriff’s warm, strong body, remaining silent. It wasn’t that I doubted him—I believed him completely. After so much time and all that had gone on between me and my Four, I had finally accepted my place with them. No, it was Julian, this unknown, faceless figure, who cast a shadow on everything that brought me joy. The dreams, the seizures, the fear. Would it ever end? I had a feeling that this was only the beginning.
Something was coming. Something huge. I could feel it in my blood, in my bones. I didn’t know if it was this “revolution” that was approaching, but something was, and I didn’t want anything to do with it.
Chapter 18
Leaving Again
I woke sometime later to find myself lying in Sheriff’s bed on my side with the familiar feel of his strong arm around my waist.
For a moment, I was confused, until I remembered. Before I’d dropped off, Sheriff had held me until I’d fallen sleep. I’d thought I’d remembered him slipping into the bed beside me and covering us both with warm blankets before the pea
cefulness of sleep took over.
With no windows in the room, it was impossible to tell what time it was, but Sheriff had said we were leaving early in the morning, and he preferred to travel in darkness, so it must have been the middle of the night.
I lifted my head and looked at the entrance to the room. Only two wall sconces were lit, leaving the room mostly dark. Steel sat on the floor against the wall beside the closed doors, tall enough that I could make out the shadow of his head and shoulders above the mattress.
“Hey, Petal,” he whispered. He put his finger to his lips before I could reply, nodding to Sheriff.
I looked at my master beside me. The General’s eyes were closed, his tanned, bared chest, sprinkled with dark hair, rising and falling slowly with his breathing. I could feel the hairs on his legs against mine, the bulge of his cock pressed comfortably against my bare ass. He must have stripped before he’d crawled in with me.
Steel stood up but remained at the doors. Gore wasn’t in the room, and somehow that made me feel better, less like I was a threat being watched. I had the impression Steel had been there for hours, long enough to have needed to rest his legs and sit.
“Sheriff must have been tired,” I said softly, sitting up.
“Yeah. I don’t think he’s slept properly since what happened in the clubhouse. None of us have.”
A gentle light filled the room as Steel turned up the flame on a lantern that sat on the small table in the corner of the room. The firelight cast the room in a warm glow.
“Do you need anything, Petal?” He came over to my side and smoothed my hair off my forehead, his brow wrinkled in worry.
“Can you take me to the water closet, Master?”
“Sure. Hold on, let me grab you a blanket. It’s cold as the Maker’s tits in here.”
I couldn’t help but smile when my big master blasphemed—it was quintessential Steel. He grabbed a blanket from a closet, bundled me up and carried me to the water closet on the other side of the room. After I took care of business, he carried me back, but instead of taking me to the bed, he sat at the small table, still holding me in his arms.