Sleeping Brides

by fallensea

  “For the vampire girl,” Laney said, adjusting the crown over the rusty waves of my hair.

  “I’m not a vampire,” I muttered, but I was pleased to receive the gift. “Vampires wear corsets. I wear T-shirts. Vampires wear gaudy makeup. I struggle to wash my hair. Vampires—”

  “Vampires drink blood. You drink sweet tea. I know,” Laney said, cutting me off. “Maybe if you smiled more, I wouldn’t feel the need to shine a crucifix your way. At least the flowers help. They bring out your freckles.”

  “Evil freckles,” I said as I patted the blossoms on my head, uncaring that I was making Laney’s point for her.

  It was May Day, a day to devour the warmth without the burn of the sun. I enjoyed May Day. It brought back memories of when I was little and used to leave flowers on my neighbor’s door before knocking and running off. All the kids on my street left flowers for the elderly on May Day, but it was a dying tradition, fading with the years. It sucked when traditions went away. Traditions kept things interesting.

  The shelter had its own traditions. On May Day, when the sun went down, the women wore flowers in their hair and went outside to release paper lanterns into the sky. It helped them to reconnect with the beauty of existence—a beauty they were a part of. The women made wishes on their lanterns, and they allowed their hope to finally defeat their fear, if only for the one night.

  “Gotta go check on the kiddies asleep in their beds,” Laney said, sighing. “I wish I was outside with the others.”

  “Me too,” I echoed as she left.

  Part of the daytime staff had stayed late to oversee the May Day events. As the nighttime assistant, I had to manage the desk in case any visitors arrived under a bewildered nightfall, like Aileen had. With longing, I listened to the sprightly rustle beyond the security gate, to the chatter and the awe. I did not like crowds, but I liked traditions. I liked hope.

  I was tempted to leave the desk to Carl, who sat in his recliner watching movies on his laptop, laughing loud enough to shake his headphones off. I doubted anyone would come through the doors, not on a night such as this, but I remained seated.

  It was good that I did. As it turned out, someone did come.

  It was Kyle.

  Striding through the doors, he was dressed in his usual navy-blue suit that he wore to the law firm, a telltale sign he’d worked late. Against the navy, his sandy hair seemed more golden than usual. He lit up when he saw me, Buddha greeting destruction.

  “What brings you here?” I asked, standing to accept a kiss on my cheek.

  “This,” he claimed, removing my phone from his pocket. “You left it at ours this morning.”

  Ours. He always called his apartment ours, even though I had my own studio.

  “Thanks,” I said dully, unable to match his goodness.

  He tapped his hand against the top of the desk, suddenly nervous. “I’d like to pick you up from work in the morning. We can watch the sun rise together. I’ll bring breakfast. It’ll be romantic.”

  He knows, I thought. He knows that every day this week, I’ve hoped to see a blue pick-up truck parked out front.

  “Thanks for the offer,” I said, forcing myself to be better. Kyle deserved much more than what I was offering him. “But I’ll take the bus. You have a busy day in court tomorrow.”

  “I took the day off,” he informed me. “We haven’t spent much time together lately. I’d like that to change. Tomorrow is for you and me. I want the day to be special.”

  He spoke fast, and his tapping increased. I studied him closely. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, calming down. “I’m just really looking forward to tomorrow.”

  More than ever, I wanted to take the bus home. I did not want the sunrise. I did not want romance. I just wanted the bus.

  “Not tomorrow. It’s going to be a long night because of May Day and the lanterns,” I reasoned. “I’ll be tired. But we’ll definitely do something this weekend—just the two of us. I promise.”

  Kyle looked crushed, but he shook it off. “You promise?” he confirmed.

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “This weekend, I’m all yours.”

  He accepted this. “Okay. You enjoy the rest of the week and let me plan something nice. It’ll be unforgettable.”

  “It better be,” I returned, playing my part. “Now go. You’re not supposed to be here.”

  Grinning, he backed away. “I love you,” he professed.

  “Same here,” I called back.

  When he was gone, I fell down into my chair. What was I going to do? I couldn’t carry on acting the way I was, but I couldn’t break his heart. He was one of very few people in the world I cared about, and he was counting on me.

  “I didn’t realize you were so cruel,” someone said from behind the security gate.

  I turned to see Aileen with her head pressed against the metal bars, her wolf in her hand. She seemed more connected than she was earlier when I’d seen her on the balcony, but she wasn’t whole. Not yet.

  “Hey,” I said, ignoring the comment she had made, glad she was finally socializing. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “I’d like a lantern. I want to light a lantern.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying to hide my surprise. “I’ll get you one.”

  I told Carl I’d be right back, and I led Aileen down the hallway towards the equipment room. I didn’t question why she had come to me instead of going to the women headed outside, their whimsical murmurs heard throughout the manor. It didn’t matter. The important thing was that she was reaching out.

  “I overhead you talking,” Aileen admitted as we walked.

  “To Kyle?” I assumed.

  “And to my brother, earlier. I came down to tell Emer I wanted her to stay after all, but then I heard her say I was selfish, so I just listened.”

  “Don’t worry. She was upset. She didn’t mean it.”

  “She did,” Aileen said with little emotion. “And she was right. I am selfish.”

  Aileen was a lot more insightful than her choices made her out to be. It seemed to be a trait her family shared. As I pulled the door to the equipment room open, I counseled her. “You’re a powerful creature. You have the ability to create or destroy—that includes yourself. Don’t destroy yourself. You need to make better choices.”

  “He loves me,” Aileen stated. “Brent—he loves me.”

  I grabbed a lantern and shut the door, taking a moment to form my words. “No one is denying that. But his love is a danger to you.”

  Aileen shook her head. “Without him, I’m a blur.”

  “No,” I disagreed, handing her the lantern. Then I removed the crown of flowers from my head and set it on hers. “With him, you’re nothing. You barely exist. Away from him, you may feel blurred, but at least you are your own person again.”

  “What about you and your boyfriend?” Aileen asked. “You were cruel.”

  “I was,” I admitted. “Kyle wants it all. I do too, but my dreams are different than his.”

  “I think he’s going to propose to you.”

  “Probably, but marriage is a promise I’m not prepared to make.”

  “Brent was full of promises,” Aileen reflected. “But he always broke them.”

  “And that’s why you don’t need him,” I insisted. “There’s nothing he can offer you, except a swollen cheek bone.”

  Aileen nodded vaguely. “You’re a lot more fun around my brother than you are with your boyfriend.”

  “Your brother is easy to be around,” I replied, unwilling to paint Kyle in a bad light.

  “I feel that way too. And so does my sister. But not everyone would agree with you. I say send this Kyle bore back to Wall Street and give my brother a chance.”

  “That would break Kyle’s heart.”

  “It would,” Aileen acknowledged. “But it would save yours.”

  ***

  I tried to focus on my duties at the desk, but I couldn’t
get my conversation with Aileen out of my mind. I thought the night would be pleasant, especially with the May Day celebrations, but it wasn’t. It was leaden, heavy with change.

  “I can’t break Kyle’s heart,” I decided out loud. “He doesn’t deserve that. I can be better.”

  Carl sat up in his recliner. “You finally cracking up, princess?” he asked. “Only crazies talk to themselves.”

  “Don’t tell that to the man in the recliner,” I said. “He talks to himself every night.”

  “That’s how I know what I’m talking about,” he returned, pleased.

  Carl might have a point. I needed someone to talk to. Kyle was suffering, and I was the toxin doing the damage. It might be time to let go. Or it might be time to give in.

  The only person I knew would give me the answer I wanted was Aileen. It went against protocol, but I left to find her, hoping she was still awake. Most of the women had returned to their beds. If the lanterns had done their job, tonight the dreams of those women would not be hellish, but full of sweet moonlight. I didn’t want to wake Aileen from her moonlight, but I needed to talk.

  “Aileen,” I whispered, knocking lightly on her door. As I did, the door swung open, unlocked. I poked my head in.

  The room was empty.

  Guessing she was outside, I went to the back garden where petals lay on the ground like raindrops.

  Aileen wasn’t there.

  Less calm, I searched the manor, growing more anxious with every empty corner. Finally, the truth struck me. Aileen was gone. The doll had disappeared into the night, a ghost no more.

  Chapter Three

  Goodbyes

  “Here, take this,” Dermott instructed, handing me his motorcycle helmet as we stood in the drive outside the shelter, his cruiser next to us, covered in dust, lacking its luster.

  “I don’t think I can,” I replied, looking at the helmet with great uncertainty, as if it were a knife I was supposed to stab myself with.

  “We don’t have time to argue,” he insisted. “I’ll drive slow, like a grandpappy.”

  I wasn’t sure he could, not in his condition. He was apprehensive. It was my belief Aileen had left soon after I’d given her the lantern, fleeing while the other women released their lanterns to the strange obscurity above. If so, Aileen could be anywhere. Dermott would want to hurry to find her, unsure of how far of a start she had.

  “Fine,” I conceded, part of me regretting my decision to call Dermott, “but she’s probably hitched her way out of here by now. I doubt we’ll find her.”

  I wanted Dermott to be prepared. It was gallant the way he watched over his sister, but his ability to protect her could only stretch so far. Aileen wasn’t well, but she made her own choices. Emer had been right about that.

  “We have to try,” Dermott resolved as he jumped onto his bike.

  I had never been on a motorcycle before. I had never wanted to. I wished I was still working so that I had an excuse not to get on, but my shift was over. Dawn was lit. Gathering my courage, I sat on the seat behind him. As soon as I was settled, Dermott reached behind to me, grabbed my arms, and pulled them forward so that I held him tight. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised.

  “I trust you,” I told him through the helmet. “Let’s go find Aileen.”

  He took off, circling around the drive before heading down the guard of oak trees and out onto the main road. He drove slower than the bikers I saw on the road from the bus during my commute, but I hated that I had no control and that I was at the mercy of the elements around me. Deciding it was the last time I would ever be on the back of a bike, I managed to keep my eyes open so I could look for Aileen. The main road was heavily forested, making our search difficult. If Aileen was out there, she could easily hide behind a tree to avoid us. The hum of the bike was like a loud but sad melody in the dawn.

  My predictions proved true. We searched until the sun was high above us, the day well announced. Aileen was nowhere to be seen. If she had hitched a ride, it was likely long before Dermott had arrived at the shelter.

  Resigning, Dermott pulled off the road onto a patch of dirt and nettles. “I’ll take you home,” he said. “We’re not going to find her here.”

  Not here. But somewhere. What he didn’t say spoke louder than what he did say. He was going to go to Brent’s house. I was sure of it, but this time, I didn’t try to stop him.

  “Take me with you,” I demanded, still holding onto him even though the bike had stopped.

  “No,” he refused, adamant. “It’s gonna get bad, darling. I don’t want you there.”

  “It doesn’t have to get bad. Take me with you. I can help. I can convince her to come back.”

  “How?” he cracked, his apprehension taking control. “You couldn’t even convince her to stay.”

  Immediately, I jumped off the bike, pulled off the helmet, and threw it to the ground. I wasn’t mad, I understood he was upset, but I wasn’t going to take it.

  “Wait!” Dermott called, letting the bike fall within the nettles. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Aileen was free to leave whenever she wanted. I know that. I’m grateful you called me. You didn’t have to.”

  “You were her emergency contact,” I stated, as if it explained everything. It explained nothing. Not the way my heart beat without restraint when Dermott was around, or how I never would have gotten on the back of the bike if it was anyone other than Dermott asking me to. He was a stranger, but being a stranger was probably why being around him was like having my freedom back. My life was chained, but he held the hammer that was going to break the chains apart.

  Yet, in many ways, I was falling into the same hole I had with Kyle. Dermott may be cruising through life on his own terms, but he was a family man at heart. He wanted his pack. I was on the run.

  “Please, let me drive you home. Or back to the shelter,” Dermott beseeched. “I won’t leave you out here alone.”

  “Are you still going to confront Brent?”

  His silence said everything, a silence that was broken with the sound of his phone ringing. It wasn’t Aileen. It couldn’t be. Laney had confiscated her phone the night of her arrival, when she’d been admitted into the infirmary.

  Dermott answered. “Hi,” he greeted irritably. “I was going to call you—”

  He was cut off by whoever was on the other line. I waited patiently beside him as he listened to the person speak.

  “Why didn’t she tell anyone?” he exploded. “I had no idea!”

  He listened some more.

  “Fine. I gotta go.”

  “My parents,” he explained to me as he hung up. “Aileen called them from the airport. She’s going to get the next flight to Ireland.”

  I pictured the fragile blonde standing behind the security gate of the shelter looking so forlorn, the wolf in her hand. “It’s probably the best place for her,” I concluded.

  Still on edge, Dermott paced in front of me. “I’m tempted to go see Brent anyway and make sure he doesn’t mess up another girl’s life,” he confessed.

  “But you won’t,” I said, leaning against a tree, relaxing after the angst of the chase. “Because you know that if you do, Aileen will be the one to get hurt.”

  “I know,” he acknowledged, joining me at the tree. “But he’s going to get away with it.”

  “They often do,” I told him.

  A large semi passed by us. I wondered where it was heading to and what the driver thought of the abandoned motorcycle on the side of the road. Aileen’s words came back to me, the words that had caused me to leave my desk in the first place. Give my brother a chance.

  Blaming the inimitability of the night, I turned towards Dermott and kissed him, reliving the moment we had shared in the truck. Eager, he took me into his arms and kissed me back, pinning me against the tree.

  Then, to my dismay, he pulled away. “I won’t mess with another man’s girl,” he proclaimed, his lips remaining close to mine.r />
  I could see he was fighting his integrity. This was what he’d wanted since the first night we met, and now I wanted it too.

  “Then I guess this is goodbye,” I breathed, knowing the impact such a statement would have on him.

  “Oh hell,” he said, and he kissed me again, his weight like a shield as he leaned into me.

  As we kissed, I knew—this was the beginning of the light.

  Chapter Four

  The Refusal

  Ten Months Later

  Wearing purple latex gloves that reminded me of Laney’s scrubs, I reached down and picked up an empty water bottle nestled against the side of a chain-link fence that bordered a rickety paper factory, the paint on the buildings peeled and molded. The paper factory was out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by dead brush and a reservoir. And now, so was I, serving a sentence I felt was unjust.

  “One more day,” I mumbled to myself, using the sleeve of my black hoodie, which was tied around my waist, to wipe the sweat from my face, the empty water bottle firmly in my hand. I wished it was full of water. I hadn’t prepared for the heat, not when it was only March. “One more day of community service hell.”

  I blamed Dermott, him and his stupid bike. It didn’t help that he was here with me.

  “Would ya stop giving me the stink eye,” he called from several feet away, annoyingly cheerful.

  “You don’t have to be here,” I barked. “Community service was my sentence, not yours.”

  “Your sentence is my sentence, Cuddles,” he declared as he picked up a candy wrapper and stuck it in his trash bag.

  “Purple suits you,” I returned. It was hardly an insult, but his giant, clumsy hands did look ridiculous in the purple gloves.

  Next to us, a round woman with a sparrow tattooed on the side of her face smirked. “You two sound like my grandparents.” Her words were friendly, but she spoke roughly, as if she was used to evoking fear.

  “Someday,” Dermott replied.

  The woman put her hand against the fence, ignoring the litter around her. Her bag was as empty as it had been since she was assigned it that morning. The heat was taking its toll on everyone, but I doubted the heat had much to do with her defiance. “What you get busted for?” she asked.