Altered: A Beyond the Brothel Walls Novel

by Ryans, Rae Z.

  Cain and I rushed to see what Veric was carrying on about, but we found him yelling into the phone and pacing the length of the hearth. Our gazes connected for a minute as he shook his head.

  “I want more men,” Veric demanded into the clunky receiver. “At least a dozen.” He tore at his hair. “Not Gabriel, I don’t need a slaughter on our hands.”

  Gabe was ferocious, dependable, but also a loose cannon. I liked him.

  Cain rearranged the furniture, the chairs making echoes reminiscent of squeaky chalk on a blackboard. “I don’t like everyone standing,” he explained, and proceeded to shiver, gooseflesh erupting over his forearms.

  Veric’s fire had died. I strolled to the fireplace and added a log to the embers. I lit a match, hoping the key was to add more fire, though I seldom built them. The front door let in a cool breeze and blew out my flame. Heavy footsteps and murmurs entered the house.

  Markos’ boots dripped water onto my tinder pile. He asked, “Have you decided?”

  I shook my head as his grimace set into a deep scowl.

  “Then why have you called us, Brother?”

  “He wants to know if I’m Angelica.” Her amber gaze narrowed and skated to Veric. His ginger hair fell into his face but didn’t hide the blush settling in his cheeks. “You came back? How could you invade their privacy like that, over something so trivial?”

  “Luv, I didn’t invade.” Veric, no longer on the phone, tossed his hands into the air.

  Was she always this worked up over small stuff? Korrigan slapped his shoulder, and I waited for steam to leave her ears. Cain nodded his head and cleared his throat. Quite comical for a vampire, I had yet to meet one this new who couldn’t dampen their emotions.

  I interrupted their argument before it escalated. “He didn’t…bother us. If you don’t mind, Korrigan, I’d like to ask a few questions?”

  Her gaze flittered over Cain, who was sitting by my desk again, ignoring me. “You. You stole Boric’s keys,” she accused. Dainty legs clipped over the wooden floor and stopped in front of him. Even with Cain sitting, he was taller than she was. She stabbed a finger in his chest.

  Lady or not, I grasped her hand and stepped in-between them. “No one touches him.”

  “Excuse me,” she yanked her hand free, “Cain had the keys.”

  “Keys? What the hell are you going on about?” I stepped aside and stared at him.

  His fingers drummed on his thigh. Cain had alluded to more secrets, but this was larger than a surreptitiously hiding his past with Boric—that I didn’t blame Cain for—the keys, though...I didn’t know what to say. “Babe?”

  His butterscotch eyes closed, neither denying nor admitting, but the suspicions were there. It made sense, more than his blood or some passing fancy, why Boric would enter Arcadia for him…why he would punish the whole bloodline. I sighed, palming my neck.

  “The rumors are true, then,” Markos said, and crossed his arms over his chest. “The Garlands mean to open the gates and destroy the families.”

  I held my hands up and the room silenced. Why did I have them all come and not just Korrigan?

  Markos asked, “Did Boric preserve the keys?”

  “Preserve?” Cain rose and turned toward the windows, growing more than silent, broody almost.

  “Did he take them? Sorry, I’ll refrain from big words.”

  Something weighed on Cain’s mind. Those broad shoulders slouched, and he stroked his chin, his gaze meeting mine in the reflection. He flinched, as I reached for him, and I froze with my hand hovering in the air.

  “Preserve isn’t a big word, or the right word. Yes, he had been collecting the keys.” Cain said, “They are safe.”

  “How do you know?” Hallo asked, as I opened my mouth.

  “I hid them, and only I can retrieve them. Fauna and you called me the Keeper.” Cain opened his hands, which I had known to be empty moments before. Purple fire pulsed into his palms. He muttered Latin words, and the fire disappeared, but in his palm rested a handful of skeleton keys.

  Korrigan reached into her bodice and withdrew another, and my brow rose.

  Cain scratched his nose and said, “Two are still unaccounted for.”

  Why is he still lying?

  “Boric must have those. It’s why he enslaved the six families,” Korrigan whispered, rubbing behind her ear.

  So she had recalled her previous life, and she was a liar, much like her brother. I wanted to judge her, truly, but deception enabled them to survive. Still, they needed to trust me with their endless secrets.

  “This one is the Garland key.” Her heels clicked over the wood, as she stepped to her brother again, and placed the key in his palm. A wide smile crept over her lips, and she flung her arms around Cain.

  “I’ve made my decision.” With only two keys, Boric wasn’t a real threat, not to mention I held the eighth and final key. “We do not strike. Not without a plan to mark and save those who are innocent.”

  Markos rolled his eyes.

  “Furthermore, we do not attack without the full support of the ABDA and the councils, because we will need their help. Veric and Markos, I would like you to lead up the military end. Fauna may assist you if you can drag her from the Wilderness.”

  Both siblings and the Elioud nodded.

  Korrigan’s eyes pled. “And Petre?”

  My breath blew out in a steady stream, her amber eyes welled. Von Baron, wherever he might be, was a genius. While I personally had little use for another vampire, the ABDA engineering department would have use of him—we needed a way into the south that didn’t involve magic and that could transport an army.

  Hallo stepped forward and squeezed her shoulder. “I will escort you to Petre.”

  “No, Sister, I need you to rally the support of the councils. They don’t respond to me.” No one liked Death, except the other rebels. “They’ll listen to you.”

  “We got a wee problem, bloke.” Veric scratched his head. “Angel drinks only demon blood. You going to let her feed on Cain?”

  I glanced between the siblings, and both shook their heads.

  “Right, thought so. Guess I’ll be tagging along, then.”

  “Tomas, Nicolai?” I asked since neither man had spoken more than a polite hello.

  “My connections will help in the government. I have contacts in Delphia and Garland. Nicolai should accompany you.”

  We didn’t have much of a choice. Red tape stood between the south and us, and the French bastard certainly did have acquaintances. But a tiny leak could unravel our plans. Could we trust them? Did we have a choice?

  Great, we headed into the frozen tundra with a caravan.

  “I could stay with Tomas,” Cain offered.

  I snorted, knowing he didn’t want to, and said, “Like hell you will. You’re staying by my side.” Forever, if I had my way.

  Chapter

  Twelve

  Cain

  For years, I hadn’t believed my mother’s spell had worked. Hell, I could barely believe my eyes saw Veric in the flesh or the tiny woman, who resembled my sister. Mother had sacrificed her life and told me her plan; I still blinked at the amber-eyed woman before me. Korrigan Garland was Angelica Marie Westcott in appearance, if not at heart. And by appearance, I meant facial features, because Angel hadn’t been nearly as short or frail. She had changed or not developed, and that much I could not ignore.

  Dorian excused everyone and himself, but she hovered behind, fidgeting near the doorway to his office. Veric stepped outside with the others, and their lumbering voices carried. Few seemed pleased with Dorian’s new orders, but I stood behind his decisions.

  I approached her. “How did you meet Petre?”

  Angel slid into a chair and cracked her neck. Long, dark hair sat on top of her head; the mass looked more painful than fashionable. Same for her dated clothing and lace and leather corset vest. Another theater raid? Her skirt swept the floor.

  “He bought me from Jules six months ago.
” Angel narrowed her gaze and wagged her finger. “I like my clothes by the by, and they hide my weapons rather nicely.” To demonstrate, she hefted her leg onto Dorian’s desk and inched up her skirt, revealing her leg, guns, and knives.

  “Some things never change,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, blinking her large, amber eyes.

  The front door slammed, rattling the windowpanes, and my gaze widened. As Veric’s heavy boots stomped over the floorboards, Angel didn’t flinch. The air shifted. Her spine straightened and chin lifted higher. My gaze darted between the two who, once upon a time, had been crazy for one another.

  “Cain,” he started, and rubbed his cheek.

  A long scar ran from the edge of his jaw and jutted to his neck, but it wasn’t there before I shot him. It hadn’t been the first time I’d fired a gun, but I hadn’t shot another since.

  “It’s been a little crazy. I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to catch up. But thank God you’re well, mate.”

  The chair skidded back. I leapt up and engulfed my brother-in-law in a hug. I hadn’t done so before partly from shock, and partly because I feared, he might disappear on me. “What the hell happened?” I asked. “Thought you were dead. Thought…I’d killed you.”

  Veric halted, shaking his head, and slid away. Dorian entered, gaze burning and composure rigid. His mind reeled between jealousy and relief, but my concern wasn’t his reaction.

  The worry read clear in Veric’s eyes. I didn’t envy either of them. I saw firsthand the love they had once shared. Was it truly gone?

  Dorian strolled over to the desk and glanced between the three of us. His gaze flickered to the steps while he nibbled his bottom lip. “We’ll rest tonight.”

  “I don’t sleep,” Angel whispered, and flexed her pale fingers.

  “Some of us do require rest. Keep watch for all I care.” Without another word, he stormed the stairs and shook the house.

  My brow rose, but I couldn’t decipher his thoughts. What is he hiding?

  “Is he always a mardy arse?”

  I chuckled, staring at stairwell, but honestly didn’t know. In time, hopefully distinguishing Dorian’s moods would come easier for me.

  Veric added, “Sorry I didn’t come back for you. When the ABDA found me, I was close to death.”

  Sounded like Boric’s doing. I scoffed at the thought. Use and leave was his motto, whether it was sex or violence. Too early for sleep but I didn’t feel like dredging through the past, either. We all knew what kind of demon his brother was.

  “Let me show you around.” A quick tour of the upstairs ended in a non-verbal argument. Blocking them was impossible, but I kept my mouth shut. Torn between my sister and the man that saved me from death, there wasn’t a side for me to take. But I wanted to fix them, I wanted Angelica back, but I wasn’t certain she was really in there. Maybe Dorian would know, or he could help me figure this out. My gaze drifted to the wall separating the rooms. “I’m sure Dorian wants an early start.”

  I closed their door and sat on the sofa by the fireplace in the upstairs living room, instead of bothering him. Dorian had his own problems without adding my crazy family into the mix. Embers burned in the fireplace. My sister was miserable, free, but not free, in an odd sense, as I was before meeting Dorian. But Veric held on, waiting for his Angelica. How much of her was even there, and how much had become Petre’s Korrigan?

  Hugs felt empty, and her ambitions had changed. Angelica wouldn’t have put another person before tearing down Boric from his lofty throne. My fists clenched at the thought of the bastard King. None of her situation had made any sense. Mother might have saved her soul, but she wasn’t the sister I once knew and loved. As if her rebirth washed the slate clean but allowed her to retain old memories.

  The door creaked, and Dorian whispered, “Come in here.”

  I shook my head and stared into the cinders. Until this whole debacle connected within my mind, I was not moving. My head rested on my fist, and he eased down next to me.

  “It’ll be fine, babe.” His burly arms encompassed me and dragged me against him.

  I sighed, allowing Dorian to hold me. When was the last time anyone had cared enough to coddle me? Never unless I had counted my mother or sisters’ attentions. “She’s not the same.”

  Angelica and Veric were not trying to be subtle about their argument. Furniture squeaked and rattled from the spare bedroom. Muffled voices followed, but I couldn’t make out exact words. I didn’t want to either and clutched onto Dorian instead.

  “I know, and that’s why we’re going after Petre.” Dorian’s lips kissed the top of my head. “Do you mind if she feeds from you?”

  I shook my head, wiping my stinging eyes on his t-shirt, and breathed in his fresh soap. My fingers twined into the fabric and tugged, revealing the dark hairs of his furry chest. Mindlessly, I stroked the silky hairs.

  He said, “Not sure I like the idea, but Hallo needs Veric more than we do.”

  I snorted at his sister’s name, but she held a lot more pull with the demons, so I agreed. She had come to me under false pretense and had led me to Dorian, but the former turned the acid in my stomach. Fauna had tried the same, forcing me to grovel at his feet, as if they were all privy to a grand plan.

  “I’m glad you did,” Dorian whispered, twisting the ring his sister had gifted me. “Look at all we talked about.”

  I shifted, gazing into green eyes. “Yeah a bit of talking had been thrown in there.” I grinned.

  Dorian hooked my chin and rubbed his thumb over the stubble. Slow circular strokes like a hundred caresses against my tender skin. Inky eyelashes fluttered. My hand slid around his neck, cupping the back of his head and drawing him closer. Staring into his captivating eyes, both my wishes and hopes collided. Would I always be enough for him? As they whispered in my ear, I couldn’t quiet my inner demons.

  “Looks like your family’s as crazy as mine,” he whispered.

  Crazy wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the Horsemen. In their own ways, they were all a bit twisted, but one had to be to survive this hellish world. It didn’t say much for Dorian and me.

  The fire popped; our tender moment fizzled. Easing against his chest, I willed the flames to grow, chanting and channeling my energy into the spell. Dorian gasped at the dancing spirit burning purple in the hearth.

  “You don’t use your magic often.”

  I shrugged. Magic was a gift from God but easily abused. That made us different in some circles and viewed weaker in others.

  “I like that,” he added, and snuggled closer.

  His hands roamed over my chest and snuck beneath my t-shirt. My body arched; he collected me within his arms, cradling me.

  Nodding his head, he said, “It’s going to be all right, Cain.”

  “We haven’t spoken about the keys.” Curiosity killed the cat, but I always wanted to know what they unlocked.

  Dorian stared into the fireplace and gulped. “Are you with me because of them?”

  “No,” I said, and meant it.

  “Didn’t think so, babe, and that’s all that matters, right?” He flashed a smile, dismissing the topic a little too quickly for my tastes, but I let it go.

  Floorboards squeaked. Angelica paced in the guest room. Veric’s mind had shut down, and Dorian’s plan unfolded within his. I wasn’t sure how he knew my brother-in-law was asleep, though. A sneaky plan and it involved ditching Veric while he slumbered. It bothered me, but I couldn’t figure out why my sister would toss Veric aside without accepting the truth. Unless Korrigan wasn’t my sister, but the woman inside that room was Korrigan. How could two souls occupy one body? Still made no sense.

  His grip tightened. “Your sister’s soul is within her body, but that’s not Angelica, babe. Not truly.”

  Dorian had said similar words before, but I didn’t want to believe him. Soul magic was tricky and dangerous, but I’d understood Mother’s wishes. The slaves saw what Boric had done
to her body, but our mother couldn’t perform the spell until the end.

  A tear slid down my cheek, and Dorian swiped the wet streak.

  “Bedtime, babe.” He groaned, lifting me from the couch. “We have a long road ahead of us.”

  Thoughts between the future and why I cried bounced in his head. Dorian showed me his darkness, his deepest secrets, but I grasped onto mine, stroking them as a reminder never to give up this fight. Shadows over his heart led me to lie; life in the south had led me to flee. Did he suspect the closeness I’d once shared with his enemy? Would he understand how a boy fell in love with a monster? My body trembled, fighting control and warring within. Would Dorian sympathize or condemn me? He had no notion of slavery, even if he had lived through pain. What could Death know of living life without choice or the inability to deny one’s masters? I couldn’t release those secrets, for my choices had cast me in shame, shame that I hadn’t realized myself until Dorian’s love touched me.

  He laid me on the bed, removing my boots. I rolled onto my stomach, watching as he retrieved two sets of sweats from his dresser. Dorian tossed me a pair, and I changed, allowing my façade to fall before sitting up again. My shaky fingers grasped the hem of my shirt. I removed it, baring all, seeing no use in hiding the riveted flesh and wasting energy.

  A gasp left his rough lips before kissing my shoulder. “Do they hurt?”

  I croaked, “No,” and glided the faded, soft ABDA shirt over my head. Scars—burned into the depths of my soul, each one was a memory Boric had carved into me.

  I slid beneath the covers, and Dorian did the same. Our fingers folded, connecting and forming one. My other hand cupped his coarse cheek. We rested, side-by-side, holding each other and embracing each other’s dimming light, as if the radiance were air needed to survive.

  The Four Horsemen hadn’t needed the power of the government. A snap or simple blink and they could’ve undone the world. That left one option and the thought coated my mouth in bitterness. Dorian was holding something back, though; I didn’t have the right to judge him for it. For two people in love, we couldn’t let go of our secrets. All roads pointed toward trust. I smoothed my thumb over his lips. “Why are the keys important?”