Broken Souls

by Jade M. Phillips

  BROKEN SOULS

  Book Two

  JADE M PHILLIPS

  Copyright © 2015

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Cover Art designed by Book Birdy Designs.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ONE: RUBY

  TWO: RUBY

  THREE: RUBY

  FOUR: GUY

  FIVE: RUBY

  SIX: RUBY

  SEVEN: GUY

  EIGHT: RUBY

  NINE: RUBY

  TEN: GUY

  ELEVEN: RUBY

  TWELVE: RUBY

  THIRTEEN: RUBY

  FOURTEEN: RUBY

  FIFTEEN: CLOE

  SIXTEEN: RUBY

  SEVENTEEN: RUBY

  EIGHTEEN: RUBY

  NINETEEN: CLOE

  TWENTY: CLOE

  TWENTY-ONE: RUBY

  TWENTY-TWO: RUBY

  TWENTY-THREE: RUBY

  TWENTY-FOUR: RUBY

  TWENTY-FIVE: CLOE

  TWENTY-SIX: RUBY

  TWENTY-SEVEN: GUY

  TWENTY-EIGHT: RUBY

  TWENTY-NINE: CLOE

  THIRTY:GUY

  THIRTY-ONE: RUBY

  THIRTY-TWO: GUY

  THIRTY-THREE: RUBY

  THIRTY-FOUR: RUBY

  THIRTY-FIVE: RUBY

  THIRTY-SIX: CLOE

  THIRTY-SEVEN: CLOE

  THIRTY-EIGHT: RUBY

  THIRTY-NINE: GUY

  FORTY: RUBY

  FORTY-ONE: CLOE

  FORTY-TWO: GUY

  FORTY-THREE: RUBY

  FORTY-FOUR: RUBY

  FORTY-FIVE: RUBY

  FORTY-SIX: RUBY

  FORTY-SEVEN: RUBY

  ~THE END~

  ABOUT JADE

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  ONE: RUBY

  Do you know what heartbreak feels like?

  Not the kind where you binge on ice cream and bad TV for a week poring over old pictures and crying into your pillow. I mean true, soul-crushing heartbreak. The kind of heartbreak that becomes physical, the ache so excruciating your body actually convinces your mind you’re dying inside.

  And if you’ve been a person unlucky enough to have had this sort of suffering, you would know it comes without warning, blind-siding you like a freight-train, each car that slams into your chest, knocks you breathless over and over again. No matter how strong your resolve, no matter how much you’d like to think it won’t affect you this way, it does. It annihilates your very being, crushes your very heart.

  You lose hold of yourself like a piece of you is missing. Unlike an arm or a leg, which can be —perhaps awkwardly— managed without, this missing piece is a layer of your soul. It leaves you hollow and one dimensional, a paper cut-out of your former self. You continue through your days woodenly, waiting for the darkness to suck you in, like some screwed-up out-of-body experience. The world fades away and loses color, food no longer holds flavor, and you know deep in your heart you will never be the same. You mourn the loss of love as you would mourn your own death.

  In my former life, I thought I knew what heartbreak was. I thought I’d witnessed such great loss, but I hadn’t. I had no idea the enormity of it. I had no idea how it ripped your spirit from your body, leaving behind the hollow shell of the person you used to be. But I know now what it’s like to be in love with someone you are forbidden to be with and walk away from them, knowing it’s the last time you will ever kiss them, or hold them, or look upon their face. I know now what it’s like to have your heart shattered into a thousand pieces, unlikely to ever heal.

  But that is not what Guy would’ve wanted— my solider, my enemy, my love— the Captain who I fell for despite our impossible circumstances. No, he would want me to be happy and continue on this journey, even without him. He saved my life and wouldn’t want it to be in vain. But despite my knowing I should be brave and honor his memory, I felt it there calling for me; the need to slip away, the need to dissociate myself from the world due to unadulterated heartache.

  But I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t fall back into the blissful numbness of loss and regret that I seemed so desperately to cling to. I wouldn’t let the one thing he admired about me most —my faith— fail. I needed to reel myself back in and take the second chance given to me, do something with it. I needed to exist amongst others like me and try my hardest to be accepted in my new home. I needed to embrace what I was, what I was always meant to be. I needed to embrace my new life as a vampire.

  TWO: RUBY

  My imprisonment blazed angry thoughts through my mind, but I was too weak to do anything about it. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat crackled with disuse. I licked my lips, swallowing what little saliva I had left and tried again.

  “Ex— excuse me?”

  The two werewolves guarding my cell shifted, but remained rigid and silent. They were in their human forms but I could smell their canine scent.

  “I’m thirsty, hungry. Can I please have some blood?” My voice rasped, dryer than the desert I grew up in. “Human blood?”

  I stifled a gag, knowing I’d never drink it. The stuff made me choke, and after Wilson’s discovery of me still being half-human, it was just wrong like a pig eating bacon. Gag. But I needed the female vampire to come back, the one who’d originally found me at the gates of Tombstone.

  Since my being locked up, she’d brought me blood every day and was the only one I had contact with. And I had a feeling she was the only one I would get any answers from. I sure as heck wouldn’t get anything from Humpty and Dumpty other than grunts, snarls, and an odd lingering scent of wet dog, but who would want that?

  As if my prayers were answered, a door opened somewhere in the building, indicating that it was feeding time. Relief washed over me at the fact that I would yet again see the young vampire.

  Her footsteps padded down the hall, echoing like raindrops. A candle lit her face as she came into view with a cup in hand and a bundle under her arm. Her unkempt hair hung in gnarled strands and she wore the same clothes as the first night she fetched me from the gates, so many nights ago. Her ripped skirt and faded shirt looked little more than rags and I thought she resembled a peasant girl from one of the old black and white westerns my dad used to watch on TV. Disgust coursed through my veins at the sight of her, and my stomach panged when smelling her unmistakable scent of banana pudding, something I associated with vampires though tried desperately to ignore.

  Humpty unlocked my cell and slid open the bars, allowing the female vampire to enter cautiously as if I would jump out and bite her. After being locked up for so long, I couldn’t help but think I just might.

  The vampire had yet to say one word to me after having deceived me with a warm greeting the night I first arrived in Tombstone— The City of Unfortunate Souls. And for someone so stubborn in their resolve, she struck me as a frightened mouse, her brown hair hanging over her meek shoulders as she leaned down to place the cup next to my feet. She cast her eyes downward as if afraid I’d speak to her. Damn right I would.

  “What’s your name?” I asked sharply, causing her to flinch. I was so done. Done being sucked into the numbness and heartache that overcame me in the passing days, done letting the darkness seep into my mind, done being the victim. I would not let Wilson’s memory be in vain. Since I no longer had a family of my own, the old vampire had become like a father to me, giving his life to protect me, as well as Guy had done in saving my life.<
br />
  Guy Stone.

  Just the name of my soldier caused an ache so bad I thought I might crumble from the inside out. Regardless of my unsated love and broken heart at having to separate from him— for our love was a forbidden one— he’d saved my life so I could live free here in Tombstone. Live safe without danger lurking around every corner.

  And for what? For me to waste away behind bars? I shook my head in anger, gazing at the bars in front of me making slanted shadows on the ground. Both Wilson and Guy wouldn’t want me to give up. I would never give up.

  Ignoring my question, the female vampire pulled the blanket from my bed and replaced it with a clean one. I almost laughed. So, for countless days they locked me away with no shred of communication or glimpse of the outside world, with only a meager serving of blood, but laundry held priority? I held back a scoff.

  “Why am I in here?” I tried again.

  Her lashes fluttered as if resisting the urge to look up. But she did and her timeless eyes landed on mine for one long moment. The girl looked to be about the same age as me, seventeen, maybe eighteen. But who knew how old she really was for vampires hid the effects of age well with their immortality. She quickly dropped her gaze yet again and stuffed the old blanket under her arm, intent on not responding to me.

  “At least tell me how long I’ll be here. I’m getting weak.” That was not a lie. I hadn’t drank the offered blood since being placed in this cell, however long ago that’d been, and was beginning to feel the effects.

  “Please…” I added, barely above a whisper. My resolve was waning.

  Her body tensed at my plea, and my heart lifted in expectation as she glanced over her shoulder at the guards. They were facing away, either unaware or uncaring of our exchange.

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed, dropping her gaze to the ground. “It’s protocol. You’ll be released after Horus questions you.”

  Fear slid through me like snakes. Questions me? That would be fine if I were just some normal vampire coming here to seek refuge. But I wasn’t. I had a past I could not reveal.

  “When?” I asked. “When am I to be questioned?” To my disappointment, the female stood and exited the cell without another word. I huffed with annoyance when the door closed with a loud clang. Great.

  The guards regained their positions, rifles propped up on their shoulders. God, was everyone around here like this— so cold and unwilling to talk? Not like I wanted them to greet me with balloons and fruit punch or anything, but I sure as heck didn’t expect to be thrown into jail like a common criminal. And with no explanation at that, just rigid silence. I wondered if all new arrivals were treated with such class, or if I was the only one to get the creepy-abandoned-ghost-town jail experience.

  Wilson’s warning instantly struck me. The old vampire had cautioned me not to reveal my secret to anyone— the secret that I was a rare half-breed who grew in strength faster than any other vampire. The secret that I still retained my humanity and compassion. And the secret that I was still half human.

  According to Wilson, somewhere in my family history a vampire mated with a human, and that gene had been passed down through the generations landing on, you guessed it, lucky me. I wasn’t quite sure the science of it, something about my immunity to becoming a full vampire. But regardless, it had been activated within me when my maker bit me— my maker, who I’d recently found out was my biological father, Frank, and apparently the carrier of said vampire gene, though I’d never met him before.

  Is that why I was kept in here for so long? Did they know I was different? Did they sense it? The thought terrified me, making me want to shirk away and slip back into blissful numbness, ignorant of my scenario. Instead I sat up straight, vying to keep my wits about me. I would await my questioning by this Horus creature and, if all went as planned, I wouldn’t become a dead vampire in the process. I took the cup of blood and poured it down a crack in the floor like I’d done the past few days. I laid down on the wooden bench and rested my head on my arm.

  Time went by unaccounted for and I wasn’t sure if I fell asleep or not but the sound of a door opening down the hall had me jumping. I sat bolt upright, hearing the wolf guard’s nervous murmurs.

  “Horus,” one hissed.

  “Shut up,” the other one retorted.

  I wondered who this Horus was and by the looks on Humpty and Dumpty’s faces, he wasn’t someone you’d have a merry little chat about the weather with. Dread tore through me as the visitor approached, the fine hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. If the guards feared Horus, maybe I should too.

  THREE: RUBY

  The vampire who I assumed to be Horus sat himself on a stool in front of my cell. He was tall and thin, his features sharp and unforgiving. His black hair shone in the candlelight and his onyx eyes pierced mine like he was trying to read my mind or something. He said nothing, but studied me for a long while causing my heart to pound like a drum, my hands shaking like the dry leaves on a fall tree. He would be the one questioning me and I prayed I could keep my story straight.

  I nervously studied the brick walls surrounding me and the moist stain on the ceiling above. There were no windows. The only way out was the door of bars separating me from Horus. I sucked in a deep breath and tried to steady my hammering heart.

  The vampire pulled a pack of cigarettes from the black duster he wore and lit one with the candle flame. He exhaled a puff of smoke into my cell, his face impassive as he regarded me. I considered the blackness of his eyes, thinking they were like pools of endless nothing. I’d never seen their likeness before; lacking any shred of light or life. They were cold, dead eyes.

  “Stand up.” The calm in his voice caused me even more unease than if he would’ve yelled it. Yet, I stood on shaky legs, keeping my gaze downcast and my arms folded over my chest.

  “Come closer.” His voice was slimy, reminding me of snakes. I could already tell I wasn’t going to like this Horus character and by the way he stared me down, it was obvious he wasn’t my biggest fan either. I wondered what I did to even land myself in this prison and what’s more, what I’d done to gain his hatred. What did he know about me? I hesitantly stepped closer to the bars.

  Horus stood, gingerly balancing his cigarette on the edge of the stool, the smoke rising in curls around his thin wrist. He turned to me, his pure white skin a stark contrast to his dark gaze and black hair. He studied me for a long moment as though I were an alien fresh off my big purple spaceship, and I didn’t blame him, feeling pretty much like an alien in this situation myself. But I kept my expression straight, holding back my fear. I would not let him know how intimidated I was.

  Unexpectedly, and faster than I could comprehend, he reached through the bars and grabbed my shirt, pulling my body to slam against the bars. I gasped as I hit the metal, terror slicing through me like the sharp claws of a feral feline. With widened eyes I watched the vampire’s nostrils flare all up-close and personal, and if I do say so myself it was at a most unflattering angle. He breathed in deeply through his nose like he was sucking me inside of him. He stood mere inches from my face, the metal bars the only thing separating us. I wrenched my neck away from his closeness, shivers running down my spine.

  I knew I was stronger and faster than most and could easily break free from his grasp, the metal bars, and book it the hell out of Tombstone. I’m not going to lie, the thought crossed my mind a time or two since walking through the gates. But even if I escaped without being apprehended by the vampire, or furthermore, shot by the guards, where would I go?

  “You don’t smell like the others.” Horus lifted his nose as if sniffing the air around me and I couldn’t help but picture him as some greasy street hound sniffing out a rat. “Why is that?”

  His breath smelt of death and decay as he exhaled onto my face, which mostly disguised his banana pudding scent, and I resisted the urge to offer him a mint, knowing he might not take too kindly to my proffered suggestion. Instead, I held my breath, letting sile
nce become my answer, praying this whole thing would be over soon.

  “You are a Newborn, yes?” He considered me still, his breath heaving.

  I nodded against the strain of my body being crushed into cold metal.

  “I don’t trust you,” he said.

  Good, I almost replied, because I didn’t trust him either. He smelt like moldy cheese and death, and I’d never found someone so repulsive in my entire life. But I didn’t offer a reply, not wanting to give him any reason to doubt my intentions. I just wanted to get this questioning over with and get myself settled into my new home. Horus pulled me even closer, my chest straining with the pain of being pinned and I turned a cheek against his rank breath.

  “Don’t even think about lying to me, baby vampire. You will be found out and the legion doesn’t take kindly to liars.”

  Without warning, Horus hurled me backward, my body slamming into the opposite wall. On contact, I gasped in pain, realizing he might be stronger than me. I slid down and fell hard onto the bench below, collapsing against the wood.

  I wanted to just lay there and cover my face with my arms. I wanted to sink into the numb heartache that threatened to overcome me the past few days. Instead, I thought of Guy and all he’d sacrificed for me, and sat up straight to shrug off the shock of being thrown. I glared at the greasy vampire.

  Obviously unaware, or at the least, unaffected, by his own bi-polar disorder, Horus gingerly plucked his cigarette from the stool and held it to his mouth. He drew in and released three perfect smoke circles, amused by his own trick. He sat down as casually as if for Sunday brunch. He smiled at me, his fangs showing from beneath white lips. I knew then that this vampire was dangerous, nothing like Wilson, my late vampire mentor. My lip trembled, betraying my false confidence, and Horus laughed at my reaction.

  “What is your name?” He leaned forward nonchalantly as though he hadn’t just had a mental breakdown three seconds before. Despite his previously violent actions, his voice never faltered, nor elevated. It was as though he teetered on a fine line of being in control and completely losing it. Crazy much?