Constricted: Beyond the Brothel Walls

by Ryans, Rae

  I swallowed and shoved the oddness enveloping Tomas aside. “It’s rude to speak about me like I’m not here.”

  Petre’s lips twitched. He all but demanded I not hold my tongue, and it seemed to please him.

  “Indeed, ma petit fee, you must forgive my manners.” He turned to Petre and said, “Will you tell her, or should I?” Tomas had paused for a moment to glance at him and then glided to my side. “The life you once knew is but a façade.” My eyebrow rose at his term, and he halted to explain. Petre left the room, and the back door slammed. “We’ve orchestrated this new world.”

  Why would he have left me alone with this stranger? Was he coming back? Had I been wrong to snap at Tom? My body shuddered as the man leaned closer and invaded my personal space. “Don’t worry about Petre.” Worry, I mouthed. “He loves you and wishes to protect you from our world.” Protect, I mouthed as the heat crept into my cheeks. The words clashed together in my head: love, worry, and protect. Did Petre love me? I winced at the peculiar thought. Why would he want to die if he truly loved me? The weight of his words crushed upon me. Every inch of my soul torn asunder on the inside, but on the outside my jaw had simply clenched. Tomas leaned away, and I inhaled, driving the air through my gritted teeth. “But you are already of our world, ma petit fee.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. The fire cracked, and I turned to gaze at the smoldering embers. My eyes lifted to where the painting used to hang. “Why did … do I …” What were the words?

  “Before even my time the world had creatures and magic.” My eyes widened, and I faced to him. “Yes, I can read your thoughts just as you can sense magic.” Thomas reached for a glass on the table and handed it to me. The brown liquid sloshed but didn’t spill. “Drink, you’ll need it.”

  I took a small sip and grimaced as the fire rushed down my throat. “What is that?”

  “Whiskey, now ma petit fee, you are quite remarkable. In my time, we would’ve named you an oracle, or soothsayer.” Tom motioned for me to take another sip, and I complied. “Tell me of your nightmares.”

  For as long as I could remember, I had dreams, but it was the darkest ones that came true. I explained all of them to the vampire as he nestled into an armchair, at least those I recalled, but held back the most recent dream with Petre.

  His hand reached for my cheek, but I shied away. “I won’t bite,” Tomas said, but my mind and body refused his words. “You’re hiding something about Petre. A war brews within you even now.” His forehead wrinkled, and his blond brows rose. “Ma petite fee, you don’t trust him even after I told you the truth.”

  My head whipped toward the heat of the fire. “If he loved me then he wouldn’t leave me to die.”

  “But why would you …” His words trailed as the images flashed through my mind. I blinked as he perched at my feet, and his kind eyes softened with his words. “Oh, little one, that cannot be, for you cannot break Petre or Demon Spawn’s curse.”

  A tear slid free, and Tom reached forward. “Don’t touch me.” I gathered my skirts and rose. He followed, quicker than I realized. Blocking the door, his body spanned the frame. “Let me pass.”

  Tomas removed the glass from my hand; I hadn’t realized I still held it and grabbed my wrist with the other. “Not yet.” His mouth kissed across my veins. My eyes glanced away, and inside I cursed Petre for leaving me alone with him. How was I to trust a man who pawned me over to his friends? Did he want me to do this? Allow the vampire weirdo to bite me? Tears blinked from my eyes as his grip tensed. Fangs sliced into my wrist as the burn spread over my shaking arm.

  “Stop,” I wailed and dragged my hand away. His grip tightened, and I screamed louder. Images had flashed before my eyes. Memories I had buried resurfaced, as the yells grew hoarser. “Please,” I begged, as the visions of Jules attacked. “Petre,” I whispered one last plea, and his arms, cold and comforting, wrapped around me.

  “Enough Tomas,” he growled. “She’s been through too much. I should never have agreed.” His distant voice became an echo, but I sunk my claws into it and grounded myself. “I’m sorry Angel.”

  “You brought this on yourself, Petre. She’s part of our world whether you like it or not.”

  He sighed, dragging me closer. “She’s not the one.”

  “On the contrary my dears. Take her to Demon Spawn and see for yourself.” He inclined his goggled head. “I am never wrong.”

  “Explain.” My foot stomped, and I fled his hold. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” Dizziness washed over me, and I clung to Petre. “You said I couldn’t.” He’d lied; they both lied and like a fool, I believed.

  Petre chuckled, moving quicker than me and brushing his lips against mine. My arms shoved against his chest. “Too bad she doesn’t have a sister,” Tomas mumbled, and I laughed at the absurdity of the evening, my situation, and the comments he’d made. Petre glowered and sank into a chair. My eyes drifted toward the stairs, but I’d witnessed his speed, and there were no doors to which he didn’t have a key. Contract or not, I was a prisoner, and human or not, I wasn’t a vampire. There was nowhere for me to run or hide, so I stood there and crossed my arms over my chest. “Your spirit and ambition are commendable. You will come to no harm.”

  Petre swirled a glass. “Do not make promises you can’t keep, Tom.” He downed the contents and tossed the glass into the fire. Even though I anticipated the crash, my heart still leapt at the sound.

  “Why would you hurt me?” My voice shuddered and betrayed me. Petre said nothing and stared into the sizzling embers. I eyed his fingers as they curled into his palms, and his shoulders squared. Far too young compared to Tom and much too young for the weight he carried, but neither gave him cause to harm me. I tiptoed closer and refused to be ignored but remained cautious. My hand trembled as I reached for his shoulder. Petre snatched it and folded his large hand around mine but still chose to remain silent.

  The air thickened, sweetened almost, and I turned my thoughts toward Tomas. The same question I’d posed for Petre, I’d asked of him. What I hadn’t expected was the answer rattling around inside my head. “He didn’t mean harm you directly, but that neither of us can control the world. While you may not be as weak as another human, you still aren’t like us.”

  “Angel, please lend a hand to Mellissa; I want to have a word with Tomas.”

  I hunched over the table as the whispered voices rose and fell from the living room. Mellissa busied herself with the meal preparations, but she often stopped and shook her head as if she was arguing with herself. The door creaked open, and a frosty Jobe shuffled in with a bundle of firewood. Snow melted and dripped onto the floor as I rushed to his side.

  “No, no wee one this is my job,” he scolded. Mellissa chuckled, and my cheeks burned. “You’ll make a mess of your lovely dress, and Lord Petre shall tan my hide. Sit.”

  I stared down at my hands, not understanding how I’d ever fit in this strange world. All I knew of life was servitude, and the girls at the house were my family even if they’d treated me with disdain. They were my responsibility, and I’d taken care of them all. To just sit here hadn’t made any sense when I was more than capable of lending a hand.

  My lips pried away, and I faced the strange vampire. I hadn’t realized that Tom had entered the room. His mouth curled into a half, but I glanced around him in search of Petre. Hands fell on my shoulders, and I screamed, jumping from the chair and clutching my chest. My eyes darted between the clattering seat as it toppled on the floor and a smirking Petre.

  “Mary, Jesus, and Joseph, you’ll give the young a miss a heart attack.”

  Water rushed in my ears, and I shook my head. My heart refused to calm down even though it had been a cruel joke. I had always fallen for them. Jules and the girls had loved making me the simple fool. My chin lifted, and I forced air through my lungs. No more, no longer, I had silently vowed and envisioned the walls building around me; they had built around my heart.

  Tomas inch
ed closer, and his brows knitted together. “Fascinating,” he said. “She’s blocking me.” His hands cupped my face, and the touch pushed a wave over my skin.

  My jaw clenched as the room grew silent. “Don’t touch me.” Tom’s hands fell away, and I stepped backwards toward the stairs. He muttered something in his strange tongue as I took another step. The dribbled water splashed under my bare feet and rushed a chill through my already trembling body. Petre’s eyes fixated on me as his emotions churned, but there were too many.

  Another step and my shaky leg slipped. My body and mind braced for the impact, but it hadn’t come. Words rushed into my ears as multiple voices said my name and gasped, but only one had mattered, and it had belonged to the arms cradling my head a mere smidgen from the bottom step. “Will you stop running from me?” he asked as concern wrinkled his grey eyes.

  Part of me wanted to respond, but I could no more trust the words dancing on the tip of my tongue than I could him. I’d never spoken the nasty thoughts reeling through my mind or said the dirty words aloud. Yet in that peculiar moment, knowing that I was the weak one, I said, “You bastard.”

  Cold hands retreated, and my head smacked against the wooden step. Mellissa, unable to stop herself, had smacked Petre upside his head with her dishrag. I rubbed the side of my head as the dull ache settled and had laughed.

  “Sorry.” He extended his hand, but I shook my head and stood on my own. I clutched my belly as a wave of nausea rolled over me. “Kor.” Voices sounded at once, as I reached for the banister and heaved.

  Words entered my mind: concussion, contusion, head injury, and other terms I couldn’t comprehend. My lips moved, but proper sounds refused to form as Mellissa and Petre hovered over me. My speech slurred as I pushed them away, my hand jutting out and waving them from my side. Leave me alone, I repeated in my mind and hoped Tom would pass the message along. While it hadn’t been the worst night of my life, I’d had enough of everyone’s games. Enough to last a lifetime and enough to end my pain even if it meant that Jules had won. My hopes and dreams flashed as a metallic liquid filled my mouth. I gagged and spat it out.

  “Drink the damn blood, Angel.” But darkness overtook me instead.

  The dream turned weird. The man with a hat waited for me on a cliff, and the briny ocean waves crashed around him. His shorter hair fanned his neck like a fiery halo, and his dark duster blew in the wind. “I’ve searched for you, but every time you’re within my grasp, someone takes you away, Angel.”

  I stared at the man’s back as he shucked the long coat. Silver pistols rested in his holsters. Right about now I’d run, and he’d give chase like all the previous dreams. Tonight I stood my ground and faced the man of my nightmares.

  “Take him down; Jules must fall.”

  He spun and red eyes glowed brighter than his auburn hair. A jagged scar tore down his rough jaw. The stranger approached; his body jingling with each step as my heart pounded. “Angel,” he said and cupped my cheek in his gritty palm. “I’ll find you again, my sweet Angel.”

  My throat burned dry as the inferno slid down my throat. I coughed, unable to form words, unable to ask him why he had wanted to find me. The dream blurred as I reached for him. As if someone dropped water over the surface, my surroundings had vanished. I blinked, and my reality came into view again.

  Petre crushed me against his chest and murmured his apologies. My fist slammed into him as he squeezed the life from my lungs. “Petre,” I wheezed.

  “Let her up, ami. She cannot breathe.” Mellissa placed a cool cloth over my head, and she didn’t try to hide the worry lines smooshing her features. Jobe sat at the kitchen table and drummed his fingers over the surface. Tomas loomed over me like the vile slug I’d come to loathe.

  “Who is the red-haired man?” he asked.

  Petre’s grip tightened. “I don’t know; he haunts my dreams.” A chill crept up my spine, and I didn’t know if it was the invasion of my private thoughts, or that I’d had the dream again. He wanted me to take down the brothel. Tear down Uncle’s world and free my family, yes, he’d liked that. So had I. “Between us and you,” I said to Tomas, “I think we could do it.”

  “Aye lass,” Mellissa butted in, and I shot her a smile. “Count us in wee one.”

  “You too? Jobe?” He nodded.

  Petre leaned away and stared into my eyes. He’d once offered me the world, and now the time had come. But I hadn’t wanted the world, the moon, the sun, or the stars. All I wanted was to destroy the man who’d made my life a living hell. He owed me as much. Petre’s head tilted, and I stroked the stray lock that had fallen into his eyes. Such beauty and darkness, but had it excused the lies whispered from those dangerous lips? “What’s going on?”

  “Your angel here wants to take down Jules.”

  He cocked his eyebrow. “You said whatever I wanted.” My hands dropped and played with his tie, smoothing over the silky surface. “You said he lied to us … ra … raped us.” The words choked in my throat as my gaze lifted. “I love them, Petre, and I can’t stop worrying … We have to stop him.”

  As ridiculous as it sounded, I’d cared for him too. All he’d done for me, but tonight’s events had been a slap in the face. How different the events could have unfolded. How different our lives could have been if he’d stop lying.

  I wasn’t stupid; I’d told him before. The clock chimed. His cool hand cupped my cheek and pulled us together. “You realize that you’re asking me to kill him, right? It’s the only way you can stop him.”

  I swallowed hard. Petre wasn’t a killer; a liar yes, although his nature allowed him to do so, I doubted he would have murdered without reason. In the short time I’ve known him, I had grasped the truth. The silent strength told me he might not have always been docile over his lifetimes.

  “I would gladly honor our friendship, ma petit fee.” No, I didn’t want to owe Tomas anything. He was too much of a creep even if I didn’t have any proof other than his undressing eyes and bizarre wardrobe. “I should take offense to that.” I turned around and raised my eyebrow. “What, you don’t like my clothes? I tell you, goggles will be all the rage come next year.”

  “He’s said that for ten years now,” Petre whispered, and my body erupted in laughter. His arms snaked around my waist and pulled me against his chest. Tomas frowned and mumbled something about Americans. “Let’s dine.”

  Petre invited Mellissa and Jobe to eat with us. When they had resisted, I insisted the meal served to plan for taking down Jules. “How many girls are there?” she asked.

  “Hampshire houses fifteen girls and young women.”

  “What about the other houses, angel?” My spoon dropped, and my head fell into my hands. How had I managed to forget about the other houses run by Jules and his cronies? “Did you visit those?”

  My head fell again. I hadn’t prayed for those girls. “No, he didn’t allow it.” But I knew Egan House didn’t house girls or women. I wasn’t supposed to know, but I’d overheard that the new house he’d bought was for boys and young men. My hands pushed my bowl away, and Tomas frowned.

  “Is something wrong with my soup?” I shook my head. “Oh … oh. That does change things, but we shall figure it out before the morning.”

  “What?” Petre asked as he scanned our faces. I guessed he couldn’t read minds like I’d first thought. Tomas spoke first, relaying what he’d taken from my mind as my fingers tore a napkin into shreds. Would there be enough room for them all? I chided myself for forgetting about the young boys and who knew how many houses there were. Now or never for I knew the changes within me meant my time here was shortened. Before we killed ourselves, I’d rescue as many slaves and whores as possible.

  Petre’s hand grasped mine, folding our fingers together. “We’ll save them. Every child will taste freedom, but this is too dangerous for you. Immortals only I’m afraid.”

  “He’ll know it’s you, Petre,” Tomas said.

  “That’s why I want her guarded.”
/>
  “Demon—”

  “He will come with me.”

  “I disagree; he will protect her.”

  “No, I don’t trust your logic.”

  My head whipped back and forth as the two men argued over the horse and me. I tossed my hands into the air and slammed them on the table. “Stop it; you both sound like bickering children.” Tomas’ mouth crept into a half smile. “I don’t see what the fuss is anyway.” I turned to Petre and raised my eyebrow. My chest heaved, and my hands gripped the table. The room grew hot and stuffy as we stared at each other. “Just do what it takes to save them. Horse, demon, I don’t care.” His lips parted as if to speak, and I winced at his deadly weapon. My voice grew hoarse as I uttered, “Come back to me in one piece.”

  He reached for me, but I had turned and marched from the room. I’d gone and mucked everything up. Why had I said that last part aloud? Because I cared for Petre and no fighting changed the fact. No amount of refusal or fancy notions changed what he’d done. I paused as I reached the second set of steps, and my hand fell to my heart. My eyes burned, blurring my vision. I sat on the step, wrapping my dress around my legs. When had I allowed that to happen?

  Despite the lies and games, he’d made a believer out of me. But I knew the truth now. “Always.” From the first moment, Petre had stolen a piece of me and held it hostage. He’d wined and dined it, coddled it, and smothered it with sweet words. I flinched at the thought of loving a man who had lied, even though I’d understood why. Every lie had been for my protection, and there were some that I wished Petre had kept.

  The chairs shuffled in the dining room, and I ran up the remaining stairs to my room. He had waited, and his eyes filled with intense hunger. I swallowed, glancing around. Petre’s lips tipped up, and his finger beckoned me closer.

  “Close the door,” he rumbled. Those rough words caressed my heated skin. “Lock it,” he added as my hand slid the metal bar over. I turned; my chest heaved harder with every step I took closer to Petre. His black and grey suit permeated power, and it tickled my insides. Cold hands brushed down my back and pulled me against him. Lips touched mine and I melted; he burned me from the inside out as his tongue massaged my depths. My hands clutched his shirt and tugged it free. I needed him; I wanted him, and I pressed against him. Petre groaned, stepping toward the bed, with each shove. “Angel we …” My hand dipped into his trousers and grasped his cock. “Yes,” he moaned against my mouth, as my strokes increased.