by J. L. McCoy
“No!” I shook my head, annoyed. “I’m not on drugs, Archer. I’m just pissed off!”
“Pray tell, then!” Archer threw his hands up, frustration painting his handsome features. “What in God’s name has you so pissed off? I can’t believe how you’ve been acting lately! First you attack me, and now Jameson?!?! What’s going on with you?” I swallowed hard and looked down at my lap, suddenly ashamed and filled with deep regret. I chewed on my bottom lip as I lost myself in thought.
I had never hit anyone before Archer, outside of sparring and stupid high school girl fights, and now I was attacking his brother? What the hell IS going on with me? I had never experienced rage and anger like I had in the past few days. Was it residual effects from my kidnapping? Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder? Was it remnants of the anger from Archer and Hunter almost killing me? Was I about to start my period and consequentially having the worst PMS of my entire life?
“Tell me!” Archer shouted, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“I…” I started to say and then took a frustrated deep breath. How was I going to explain to Archer that I was burning with jealousy over something as stupid and petty as Jameson flirting with Courtney? I was beyond embarrassed and I hung my head again with renewed feelings of shame.
I was better than this, better than these stupid emotions. I had never been a jealous type of person before and didn’t understand why I was suddenly acting like it now. The first time I had ever felt jealousy over a guy was when Archer brought his feeder Vanessa to the club right after I was hired. Him flirting with her sent me fleeing The Mausoleum in a fit of anger. Does it have something to do with vampires and their insane pheromones maybe?
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, dejectedly. “I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never acted like this before in my entire life. When I hit you the other day…that was the first time I had ever hit a guy outside of sparring. I don’t act like this. I…I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“Damn it, Skye.” Archer sighed loudly and growled again in frustration. “What am I going to do with you? You can’t keep acting like this. Whatever is going on with you, you need to fix it. If you feel you need to see a therapist, then by all means, please do. I’ll even pay for it. Something is very wrong. If I caused this by what I did to you, I’m so, so sorry. I’d take it all back if I could.” He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Release her, please. The bout of anger seems to have passed. I don’t think she’s going to cause any more trouble.”
Hunter and Quinn let go of my arms and legs and I brought my wrists around to rub the blood back into them. He had held onto me so tight that it had cut off circulation to my hands.
“You didn’t have to hold me so tightly, Hunter,” I frowned as I rubbed.
“You’re damn right I did,” he scoffed in his southern accent. “You bucked harder than a bronco at a rodeo. I ain’t never seen the likes from such a small girl. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a human female as strong as you. What the hell is Hagan teaching you down in that basement? He got you lifting weights or something?”
My frown deepened and my brow creased as I shook my head. “Not specifically.”
Quinn reached over and politely fixed my shirt for me. “You’re insane, you know that?” he pursed his lips as he stood and crossed his arms. “You remind me of one of those yappy little six pound dogs who think they’re a damn Rottweiler; always biting and barking when they don’t like someone or don’t get their way. You’re biting off more than you can chew by picking fights with vampires sweetheart, let me tell you. We’ve been taking it easy on you, but the next time you might not be so lucky.” He frowned angrily and pointed a finger at my chest. “And if you kick me like that again, so help me God, I’ll turn you over my knee and straighten you out myself!”
I swallowed hard and nodded my head. “Yes, sir,” I said with wide, alert eyes. I had never seen Quinn so mad before. “I’m sorry, Quinn…really I am.”
“I know,” he growled as he turned and left the office. Thankfully, he couldn’t have been too mad; his eyes never lost their color.
“Simmer down now, wild child,” Hunter drawled and gave me a rough pat on the shoulder before following Quinn out.
I sighed and hung my head in my hands. What the hell am I doing?
“Infuriating me,” Archer mumbled as he took a seat behind his desk, “that’s what you’re doing. But I do understand where some of your anger is coming from. You were kidnapped and tortured by Amun, I go and damn near do the same thing thinking you were some kind of spy or secret weapon of his, and then you almost dying…by my orders. Granted, it was unintentional, but still…” Archer let out a deep breath and I heard his chair squeak a second before I felt his hand on mine, pulling it away from my face.
“Look at me, Skye.”
I bit my bottom lips to keep from crying as I slowly tilted my head up. The look in Archer’s eyes broke my heart. He looked so sad, regretful, beseeching, and helpless. “I can’t stand to see you like this,” he whispered as he kneeled down in front of me. “This isn’t the girl I fell in love with. My sweet, giving, patient, loving, caring, fun-loving Skye disappeared when you were kidnapped. I’m so scared I’ll never get her back.”
I swallowed hard as I felt silent tears slide hot down my cheeks. “I just don’t know how to cope with what has been done to me, Archer. How do I forgive and forget? It’s always been so simple before. But now I’m dealing with things I never imagined would ever happen to me. My ex-boyfriend was beheaded by sick, sadistic vampires, I was chained to a pipe in a basement and tortured for days, I was almost drained to the point of death, I’m having nightmares controlled by my deranged abductor who, by the way, is hellbent on killing off your bloodline, you of all people get this idea in your head that I’m some kind of secret monster and you literally mind-rape me. Hunter gives me seizures and a heart attack while seemingly ripping my brain in two, I dump someone I care about and possibly love because he is a vampire and I feel like I can never trust any of you again, and to top it all off…I’m in love with one of the men who caused me pain…who betrayed my trust and further broke my damaged spirit by holding me against my will and who participated in the infliction of the worst pain of my entire life. How do I deal, Archer? How do I EVEN BEGIN to deal with this?”
He slowly lifted his hand and wiped the tears from my cheeks, devastation, sympathy and pain painted on his chiseled face.
“I feel broken,” I finally sobbed as I hung my head. “My spirit is…utterly crushed. And I’m angry, Archer…so angry. I have so much hate in my heart,…so much that it makes me think I never fully understood what hate was until now.”
“Oh, baby,” he choked as he quickly pulled me up and into his arms. “God I’m so sorry, Skye,” he whispered into my hair as he held me tightly. “I want to help you baby but I don’t know how.”
“Yes you do,” I whispered against his strong, cool chest. “You have to let me go.”
“What?” he asked, startled as he pushed me back a little to look at my face.
“You have to make sure Amun is dead so I can return to my normal life; the life I knew before I ever met you.” I swallowed my tears and bravely met his eyes. “When this is all over, I-I want you to have Quinn mesmerize me into forgetting all about you…all about vampires and what I’ve been through since the day I met you. I want to forget everything. I-I NEED to forget everything. I don’t want to have to live the rest of my life feeling like this or reliving all those horrible memories. I just can’t.”
“Skye,” he pleaded, his voice full of pain and panic. “No. No, you can’t. I won’t allow it!”
I reached up and cupped his cheeks as I stared deeply into his eyes. “If you care about me…at all…you’ll do this for me. Don’t make me live the rest of my life loving you and hating you in the same breath. It’s excruciating, Archer.”
“A luaidh, no,” Archer said, releasing me. “You can’t ask me to
do this. I won’t do it. I won’t lose you.”
I cringed and my head jerked back as if I’d been slapped across the face. Jameson used to call me a luaidh and the words further tore at my already shattered heart. “Please,” I breathed as I gripped my chest, my face contorted with pain and fresh tears, “don’t call me that. Don’t ever, ever call me that.”
Archer reached out to touch my face and I shrank back from him. “I can’t… I-I think I’m going to go home for the night. I don’t need to be here. I-I can’t work like this. I’m sorry, Archer,” I said as I backed up and turned for the door.
I felt his hand on my shoulder, trying to keep me from leaving and I stopped, took his hand in mine without turning, and softly placed a kiss on the back of his knuckles. “Let me go home,” I pleaded in a barely audible whisper. “I can’t face everyone right now. Please don’t ask me to.”
Archer was silent as I closed the office door behind me and I was grateful for the respect he had just given me. I couldn’t bear to work tonight alongside my vampire colleagues and I definitely couldn’t bear to look Jameson in the eyes again.
As I exited the private stairwell, I noticed the club in full swing.
“How ya’ doin’, kitten?” Lochlan called out from behind the VIP/PVIP bar.
I glanced to my left and saw him a few feet away mixing a drink using his unique flourish. “Honestly, I’ve been better, Loch. Have you seen any of the guards by chance? I need a lift.”
Lochlan nodded his head to a table a few feet away. “Killian’s set up post over there.”
I gave him a weak smile and thanked him as I walked over to Killian.
“Um, I hate to bother you, but I need an escort home,” I said timidly. “Would you mind taking me?”
“Sure,” he said as he immediately stood. “Did Archer approve your absence? I am not allowed to transport you anywhere without his explicit permission.”
“Go see for yourself if you don’t believe me,” I nodded toward the stairwell door. “I’m going to grab my bag and I’ll meet you by the back door.”
I ran into Quinn at the bottom of the stairs. I apologized again and quickly leaned in to deliver a brief hug. Quinn’s body instantly tensed up from the unfamiliar gesture before he relaxed somewhat and returned my hug with an awkward pat on the back. “Women are confusing as hell,” he shook his head when I disengaged.
“You think?” I scoffed in an awkward attempt at light-hearted playfulness. “Try being one for a day.”
He gave me a light swat on the backside as I turned and began to fight my way through the crowd of customers. I refused to look over at the bar where Jameson was working and hoped like hell that he was too busy mixing drinks and serving customers to notice me.
I had to shrug off a rowdy customer or two looking for a dance partner before I finally made my way down the hall to the employee lounge. Thankfully, all of our dancers were in their cages so I grabbed my messenger bag from my locker, slung it over my shoulder and quickly exited the back door.
I stood in the dark employee parking lot and only had to wait a few seconds before Emrick appeared.
“Where’s Killian?” I asked, confused.
“Mr. Rhys requested I take you,” he explained simply as he put a hand on my back and hurriedly led me to the black 911. He politely held the door open for me and I got in as he flashed to the driver’s door.
The drive to Archer’s lakeside mansion was a quiet one, but that wasn’t surprising. Emrick was famously a man of few words and today I was overly grateful for it. When we arrived, he did a quick sweep of the house and then left me in peace for his nightly patrol of the grounds.
I greeted an excited Styvi Nix and tried to put on a smile for her sake, but it was useless. I was completely exhausted, emotionally and physically, and decided that sleep was my best option at this point. I silently undressed, mechanically washed my face, brushed my teeth and crawled into bed with her. Slumber quickly descended upon me and for the first time in weeks, I didn’t have a nightmare.
Chapter Twelve
The next few days were pretty much a blur for me. I shunned my daily training, any interactions with my fellow housemates and even my dog. I spiraled into a deep depression and slept all day every day, only getting out of bed to use the restroom. Thankfully, someone had been coming in every morning and letting Styvi Nix out to eat and play for the day, silently returning her at night. After a few unsuccessful attempts by Archer, Aoife, and Trey to get me to come out of my room, I was left alone to wallow in my grief, heartache, anger, and acceptance. Most days, when I wasn’t sleeping, I was crying myself out until I finally did, properly grieving for the part of me that was lost when Jesse died and I was kidnapped. I let my body and mind do what it needed to do to heal itself from all of the bad shit that had happened to me in the last month and a half. I was allowing all the time and thought that I had been staunchly denying myself and I went over every painful memory with a fine toothed comb. I needed to do this for myself so I could figure out how to become whole again, to become the person I was.
By the end of the fourth day, I heard the rare knock at my door and I ignored it like always. I heard the door open and I buried my head further under my covers.
“Skye, honey?” Trey called out softly as he stood in my doorway. “Can I come in?”
When I didn’t answer, I heard the door close and I let out a small sigh of relief. I wasn’t ready to see anyone yet.
To my surprise, I felt the weight shift on my bed as someone perched themselves on the edge beside me. “Honey, can you sit up and talk to me?” Trey asked timidly as he gently stroked one cover-laden leg.
“Go away, please,” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep and tears.
“I thought maybe you’d like to talk to Jameson. He’s on the phone, calling from the road. He’s about to go on stage in Los Angeles and he really wants to talk to you. He’s worried, honey. Can you please speak with him?”
I lowered the covers from my face and frowned over at Trey. He immediately flinched as his eyes grew wide, taking in my disheveled and unkempt state. “Get out Trey,” I said lowly, starting to get angry at his intrusion on my invite-only pity party.
Trey stood up, cell phone still at his ear as he looked me over with trepidation and then turned to the door. He spoke to Jameson in hushed Irish Gaelic tones as he did as I asked, silently shutting the door behind him.
I pulled the covers back over my face and rolled over, staring at the blackness until I finally fell asleep again.
*****
I was standing on the banks of a wide river. The midnight air was dry and the gentle breeze cool against my skin. I gazed up into the sky and saw a sea of bright stars painted over the blackest canvas of night. I had never in my life seen so many stars and stood in awe for a few moments as I tried to absorb every one; they were absolutely breathtaking. When I finally managed to tear my eyes away, I looked upriver. Palm trees occasionally dotted the river’s edge and I noticed a small canoe sitting on the shore not too far from where I was standing. Where am I? I turned from the river to survey my new surroundings and was shocked to find myself very far from home. I was in what I can only describe as a desert of some sort. Occasional small scrubby bushes sprouted out of the sand all around me. In the distance stood a short, modest lean-to with a gently billowing red cloth roof.
I lifted my long white skirt and made my way over to it, my bare feet sinking marginally in the warm desert sand.
“Hello?” I called aloud as I approached the wide opening.
I immediately saw an older woman lying on a blanket, her arms around a sleeping toddler. The boy appeared to be three or four years old with black hair, olive skin, and a familiar face. In the corner, clutching a white garment in her hands, sat a young woman crying. She had beautiful long black hair that was partially hidden beneath a head scarf, small delicate hands, and a thin frame. Her soft whimpers were barely audible but she seemed to be deep in the throes of grief.
“Are you okay?” I asked gently as I moved closer to the opening, kneeling in the sand a few feet from her.
She said nothing as she brought the cloth to her face and gently nuzzled it, the action bringing on more tears. Seeing her cry tore at my heart. I wanted to go to her, hug her, and tell her that everything would be okay.
“What’s wrong, honey?” I whispered as I stood and moved to enter her home.
“She can’t hear you,” someone said gently beside me and I gasped as I turned.
Amun was standing beside me staring at the grieving woman. His eyes shone with sadness and a deep longing. I had never seen Amun like this before, so vulnerable and wounded, that it made me pause and momentarily forget my anger towards him. I watched as he turned to look over at the little boy and his face changed; he looked tortured and immense pain etched his features.
“Who are they?” I whispered as I glanced back over to the crying woman. “Is she going to be okay?”
“That is Ankida,” Amun nodded to the young woman in the corner. “She was my wife.” His eyes slid over to the sleeping woman and child as he continued. “The child is my son Ninurta and the woman is his grandmother Kishargal, my mother. Sadly, my wife never recovered from my enslavement. A few years after I was taken, she succumbed to her grief and drowned herself in the Euphrates River.”
“How horrible,” I whispered as I stared at the crying woman, taking note of her age. “She’s so young.”
“She was but a child when our marriage was arranged,” Amun said as he turned and slowly walked away. “But we grew to love one another very much. She became my every breath.”
I reluctantly turned from the scene and followed Amun. “What am I doing here?” I asked, confused.
“There is much you do not know about me, Nisiqtu,” he explained as we walked across the sand. My brow furrowed at the familiarness of the word, but I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it before. “I want to show you how I became what I am today.”