Altered: A Beyond the Brothel Walls Novel

by Ryans, Rae Z.

  Petre sat at the table, too, but I rose and strolled toward the first set of cupboards near the sink. Dusty glasses filled the shelves. I searched the others, finding plates and more cookware.

  Veric meandered over and opened a door adjacent to the fridge. “Jackpot, I believe. We could eat for weeks without touching our rations.”

  Cain leaped to his feet and joined him. They brought out armfuls of dry goods and placed them on the table. Did they plan to eat expired goods? Wouldn’t it make Cain ill?

  “I’ll check them,” he replied to my thoughts. “The cold would’ve slowed spoiling of the oils used during processing, but it stinks when rancid.” Cain dumped another armload on the table before kissing my forehead.

  All I cared about was his wellbeing. I brushed his hand, but didn’t grab it. He glanced at me, caramel eyes alight in a playful glee.

  “You can start going through them. I’ll grab the rest,” Veric said.

  Cain slipped into his chair, his knee knocking against mine. His contagious smile caught on, and my lips spread wider. Veric rustled around before delivering another load to the table.

  “What is all this?” Petre asked, holding up a package of dry soup mix. “Such wondrous inventions. This… this is food in the future?”

  Cain chuckled. “Not really. It’s all derived from food, but mankind made it in a lab, and then mass-produced it. Humans paid good money to eat products of little nutritional value in the name of convenience.”

  “I do not understand. How did they survive if it isn’t nutritious?”

  “Many didn’t.” Veric sat next to Cain and withdrew another box of soup mix. “They died slow deaths without even knowing it. Their arteries clogged, they became lazier and lazier and fatter and fatter. That’s one thing you never bloody see anymore.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Fat Archangels,” he said. “They don’t need to eat, and anymore, food is so scarce that no one can overeat. They’re either busy not freezing to death up here, or trying not to sweat to death in the south.” He sighed. “So how about some onion and herb soup?” Veric asked his men.

  Cain started to rise, but I stopped him. “I can make it. You keep resting.” I eyed Veric. “Don’t let him lift another finger.”

  Thirty minutes later and everyone had had his fill of soup. With more than enough to go around, one of Veric’s men made a second batch, and it was simmering on the hearth. Small talk continued, and all seemed well. Petre and Veric even carried out a normal conversation, mostly about the food changes and health related topics.

  But after their conversation had pattered out, my boss paced the length of the hearth. I zoned out his constant shuffling, staring at everything and nothing, and wished to be home again with Cain.

  Creaking noise drew my attention. Korrigan eased down the steps, playfully kicking the hem of her checkered dress and laughing at the cowgirl boots peeking from beneath the frilly number. On anyone else, the costume might have hit the knees, but on Korrigan’s petite frame, the lace edge swept against the hardwood floor. Leather holsters dangled from her tiny waist and drooped from the weight of the revolvers. All she lacked was a shepherd crook to complete the Little Bo Peep meets Annie Oakley ensemble—according to Cain’s thoughts. The bonnet framed her cherub face and shone false innocence over her ruddy cheeks.

  “Such light inside.” Petre grimaced. “To think I meant to snuff her out.” He excused himself. The kitchen entrance clicked and served as an indication of his departure.

  Before she made the landing, her head shot upright, and her pink lips scowled. Cain halted mid-slurp of his herb-flavored soup. Her amber gaze scanned the kitchen and attached dining room. I inclined my head toward the back door, and her wind gusted past my face.

  “That your plan, mate?”

  I cleared my throat. “Is what my plan?”

  “Reuniting Romeo and Juliet.” Snickers sounded around the room. “Or you plan on doing your job and leaving mine to me?”

  The fire crackled and hissed. I hadn’t thought that far ahead, or expected a memory-less Petre. Time ran shorter with each day we dawdled, and we were still another three away from Montreal Station. Veric must’ve called me from there, or on the road, but how had he found us? Cain shrugged at my thought and offered no insight.

  “I knew your plan.” Veric palmed his neck. The veins throbbed and pulsed beneath his tanned skin as muscles pushed off the hearth. Heavy boots stomped on the floorboards. “You’re good at your job, but I’m better. Satellite phones have trackers in them.”

  “And I can see the soul of a person where you see your past,” I whispered, and met his narrowed gaze. “You can see me as an asshole, a grunt, but our father blessed me with a unique ability.”

  Wrinkles creased deep lines into his forehead. “I sent dream messages to her.”

  But as he spoke the words, I sensed his hidden truth. Veric hadn’t said anything when I’d said our father. Only an Angel wouldn’t have objected. My fingers tapped along the tabletop, now devoid of food. Who could he have been? I knew all of my brothers-in-arms, fallen or not.

  Cain said, “But she didn’t know who you were. No one is arguing that Angel’s soul didn’t survive Mother’s spell. The girl’s mind comes and goes. She has Angel’s memories, but not all of them. Even then, she’s made a new life for herself. Who’s to say she’d be the same Angelica we remember. Am I the same man you knew?”

  The men murmured about the room, and Veric commanded them to bed and strolled to the table. White-knuckled, he braced his hands against an empty kitchen chair. “How,” he whispered, and shut his eyes. His lips opened and closed.

  “You found her. You found me. Let’s find Lily, and then see where the cards fall,” Cain offered, and the towering, redheaded Grigori nodded.

  I asked, “How do we find her? She is still my top priority. Fauna hasn’t checked in, and she should’ve found her by now.” The other missing souls were a priority, too, but I wanted to reunite his shattered family as much as I wanted to rip Boric’s limbs from his body.

  The door opened, and a snow covered Korrigan and Petre slipped inside. The vampires retook their seats, Korri slipping into the chair Veric leaned on.

  Her swift hands removed the bonnet. “Petre, Tomas, and I were on our way to the summit.” Her chesnut hair shook and melted snow splattered onto the table. “He meant to design a ship,” she pointed up, “for the air.”

  “Korrigan informed me of what I’ve accomplished, but I have no memory or knowledge of such advancements,” Petre said, tapping his fingers on the surface. “It doesn’t mean she’s wrong, and I am inclined to believe her…” He drew his long, black hair to the side. Only a few days had passed, and his speech was improving; though, his heavy accent still tainted his words. At least he spoke faster, and used more contractions.

  “Jules,” Veric mumbled, and covered his mouth with his hand. “Thought we were done with that sod.”

  ”What do you mean?” she asked.

  Veric rose and extended his palms. “Can I see? Won’t hurt you.”

  Petre glanced to me, and I nodded.

  “Aha just what I thought. Sneaky wanker.” Veric shook his head. “Nephilim shape shift. Bloody fucker.” He muttered something else, but I didn’t catch it.

  Not news to me and I waved him on.

  “Jules came to you,” he motioned to Petre, “shortly after the crash, but before you tried changing him over is my best guess.”

  Petre shrugged.

  “You probably shared his blood or saliva. He could’ve altered your memory.”

  Korrigan said, “But I killed him.”

  “Saw it with my own eyes,” Veric said.

  “You weren’t there yet,” she countered. “Tomas was.”

  “Wouldn’t having killed him break his spell?” I asked, easing my chair back, teetering on two legs, and followed their conversation. I accepted Cain and his magic. Since they were witches and warlocks, perhaps I neve
r would understand how it worked. Still, the idea of it intrigued me.

  Cain answered, “Not always. Minor spells, yes, but a curse has to run its course. That’s what happened to you and your brother, Petre. There is always an out, and according to Korrigan, it’s how you defeated Hestin’s spell.”

  Korrigan clutched her stomach and pinched her eyes. Is that her problem too?

  “Bloody hell, you might be on to something, Dorian.” Veric gasped. “Luv, what if that’s why you’re split?”

  Cain cleared his throat, and I blinked.

  “Nephilim don’t hold that much power,” Cain thought. “Do they?”

  “No.” I leaned my elbows on the table. “I think that’s how Jules controlled those in his brothels. If anyone got out of line, he could manage them, make them forget a little here and there, but you and I know what you’re suggesting was beyond his reach.” It had to be. What I wouldn’t give to have Fauna or Mark here.

  Cain rose from the table and added, “Petre had three hundred years, give or take a decade, removed.”

  Maybe Korrigan had new memories implanted, because she lived a new life. Jules erased the first few years and covered up Veric. At the time, it was probably for her own safety, in case anyone from Garland showed their faces. That I could’ve seen, but locking away the soul? My fingers tapped against the kitchen table.

  Cain tended the fire and removed the buckets, sloshing water into a basin by the sink. “Petre needs to remember,” he said, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. “No one else is close with airships, are they?”

  “Not even close,” she said. “That’s what he told me.”

  Veric nodded in agreement.

  “Babe, what are you suggesting?”

  Color flushed Cain’s rough cheeks. A sigh rattled forth and his shoulders rounded over the sink. “I can reverse the spell, but Mother’s books are in Halifax. Jan, too, I need her help, since we don’t have Tomas, and Korrigan forgot.” Cain rambled off a list of ingredients.

  “Don’t you just say words?” My fingers wiggled in the air, and Veric barked a laugh. Heat rose into my cheeks.

  “No, this is ritual magic, and I might need Fauna as well.”

  The word ritual twisted my gut, and acid reared up my throat. “Is it dangerous?”

  “Very.” Cain twisted the metal ring on his finger as the snake head wiggled on his neck. The audible gulp spoke more than his tone and words, but it was his decision to make.

  “Do you know which books you need,” Veric asked, and yanked out his phone.

  I slid a mini notebook and worn pencil nub from my flannel pocket and laid them on the table.

  Cain dried his hands on a dusty towel. “I wish I had all of my mother’s books. It’ll be a long shot. A hope and prayer that I even have the spell.” He stared at the floor.

  “I can have Jan relocated and all your possessions sent to the Summit,” I added, and Cain glanced to me. The headquarters of the ABDA was located in former Anchorage, Alaska. Over five thousand kilometers, or three thousand miles, of land lay between us. The train ride would take up to fifteen days without using magic or portal abilities. Fifteen more days without my lover’s touch sounded like purgatory.

  Veric raised his eyebrow. “You know we can hear you, right?”

  I shrugged and stared into the caramel eyes capturing my heart. A slow, hissing breath released from Cain’s full lips, and the world around me ceased to exist. Veric spoke again, but the words trailed into the fogginess of my mind. Sex was natural, and my primal appetite bordered on insane, but I didn’t care if others knew the truth.

  I crave the touch of Cain like my vampires crave blood. Pain radiated across my face and blood tainted my mouth. Veric drew his fist back. My chair skidded across the dining room floor, slamming into the wall. I jumped on him, ignoring the shouts and gasps sounding around me. My hands grasped his neck, and I squeezed. Cold metal touched my temple, and a click of the revolver echoed in my ear.

  Veric’s eyes bulged.

  “First of all, your gun is about worthless.” I shoved him. “Second, hitting the man who can end your pathetic life is about the dumbest shite you can pull.”

  Cain’s hand landed on my shoulder, but I shucked him off. “Sweets,” he whispered. “Let ‘em go.”

  “Son of bitch punched me.” Not to mention all the other trouble the Garland brother caused on the trip. Plus, the tattoo marked him as Grigori. All he cared about was Korrigan. All I cared about was Cain and that meant saving Lily. My fingers released, and the dark red welts on his skin healed. “Don’t pull that shite again,” I muttered, my racing heart pounding against my ribcage. Beneath my sleeves, my bones were exposed. “I need a smoke.”

  I stormed past Cain and out the backdoor. Rattling windows added to my twitching nerves. All these people, demons, bah whatever, were driving me crazy. They stood in my way with their rules and laws. I drew a cigarette from the pack and frowned; it was the last one.

  “Let it go, sweets.” Cain closed the door.

  I snorted. His breath blew out in steamy puffs, and his rough hands rubbed together. Cold seeped into his bones through the borrowed down coat, and somehow, his shivers, as if they were mine, prickled my skin. Elements blinked from his eyelids, snowflakes melting on his darkening, beard-covered cheeks. The energy of his body worked harder against the plunging artic temperatures.

  Cain motioned toward the barn and trudged through the short path. I glanced around, but we were alone in the darkness. My insides stirred to life. Alone. One foot moved, and then another of its own accord. The barn door sat ajar, and I slipped through the opening, closing and latching the weatherworn wooden panel behind me. Alone at last.

  My eyes adjusted to the dim, lavender light coming from the ceiling. Purple balls danced, hovering midair, and illuminated my surroundings. Warmth pulsed from their crystalline centers and heated the barn.

  “Whoa,” I whispered at the beauty of his magic. Never before had the unexplained become a wondrous obsession.

  “In the wrong hands it can be a destructive weapon,” Cain said from the loft. “C’mon up.”

  He turned and disappeared from my sight. A wry smile spread over my lips. I pocketed the unlit cigarette and strolled to the ladder. The rickety heap of wood had seen better days, but I shrugged and placed my boot on the first rung. When it held, I tried the next, and the next. Never ending, each wrung groaned beneath my feet. Reaching the top, Cain came into view. Old hay bales lined the walls, creating a makeshift bed, and he flicked a crisp sheet over the tops. Muscles moved and perspiration glistened on his forehead. Magic was beautiful, but Cain was beyond words.

  “Don’t get any ideas.” A smirk tilted his lips and transformed into a wide smile. “I want you to be comfortable with my magic.” Cain’s shoulders fell and his thick arms hugged his body. “Maybe that will help me.”

  After all, he had accepted of me…I shook my head and hefted myself from the ladder. Four strides and my arms encompassed him, pressing his head to my shoulder.

  “What’s bothering you, babe?”

  “The closer we get, the farther away it seems.” Cain said, “I’ve spent years searching. What happens after we rescue her?”

  Wind rattled the barn, and my gaze darted around the structure. My eyes closed, and my face rested on his head. Deep, fiery aroma surrounded me, and I’d forgotten how comforting Cain was to my nerves. “We all live happily ever after,” I whispered. “Or we keep fighting, but either way, we don’t give-up. I’m never giving you up, babe.”

  Cain’s head lifted from my shoulder, and a small smile touched his lips, but profound pain reflected within his welling eyes, deeper than I recalled ever seeing. If only a kiss would solve his conflictions and the agony of losing so much of his life. A sigh tickled my throat, a sound to wash over our imperfect lives and make us whole again.

  “Dorian, am I…enough,” he swallowed hard, “for you?”

  My hands cupped his rough jaw. Noses hover
ed and caressed. Eyelashes kissed, like fluttering butterfly wings. “More than I ever deserved.”

  “There’s more than sex between us, right?”

  “Yes,” I replied without hesitation, even though parts of me didn’t understand what existed beyond complete love and devotion. For Cain, I would give my life…anything in my life I would give for his happiness. My lips brushed his, and electricity sparked over my skin, igniting beneath my false layers. He alone penetrated into the dark depths of my bones. But when, not if, but when this world ended, I still had Sheol to rule and protect. A day, a month, years, or centuries, whatever time we had, I wanted to spend it with him.

  Love—I’d thought it wasn’t part of Father’s plan, for me, but I’d met Cain, and then I’d met him again. Without him, my life had little purpose…without him though; I still feared my grief would end this world.

  Heavy lidded eyes peeked at me. “What drives you, Special Agent Dorian Fox?”

  “You.” A touch, a kiss, making love, being with him drove me to become a better person and take responsibility for the world Father had entrusted to me. “I don’t know if anyone still does this.”

  “Does what?” Brows rose and fell.

  I grinned at my sweaty palms and racing pulse. “Let me finish.”

  Cain’s arms skimmed around my neck. We danced to the tinkering sounds of falling snow and howling, angry wind. Giggles erupted from his chest; we spun and twirled. Like a rollercoaster, my belly flip-flopped, and the butterflies came to life at his giddiness. Bright grins and light chuckles mixed with breathless fun. Granted, we were two gay men with no clue about dancing, but neither of us cared. Cain’s happiness was the key to mine.

  After a badly executed spin, we collapsed to the ground.

  “What were you going to say before?” he asked, catching his breath.

  His butterscotch eyes blinked. A spark ignited and shone through the darkness of our lives. Well before that moment, Cain was it for me, the one and only. I had said the words and hinted at wanting him in my life forever.