Open World

by Casey Moss

  Den. Buzz. I’ve started to remember something! She quelled her excitement for fear of losing the memory thread. Buzz. He’s the one I’m running from.

  She gawked at the bleached blonde, amazed and speechless for an instant. “Yeah, you’re right about me running. His name’s Buzz. I hope I never see the ass ever again. I think he drugged me. I believe that’s what’s messing with my memories.” Bits and pieces started filling in the gaps in her mind. “He said we were married, but I don’t remember any kind of ceremony.” She sipped on the beer the waitress had brought her. “He’d tie me up and lock me in the attic. A few evenings ago, he’d left on a trip, and since I was having a moment of clarity, I hightailed it out.”

  The waitress came over, placed an appetizer of garlic bread with a bowl of spinach and artichoke dip and a cheese pizza on the table. “Bob says your meal is comped.”

  Ruby waved and winked at the bartender again.

  “So?” The blonde asked once the server retreated. “You were able to escape. Do you think he’ll be looking for you?”

  “I thought about that.” Hope tore into a strip of the bread. “I don’t know.” She shoved the chunk into the dip then into her mouth. “I hope not,” she spoke, chewed and swallowed. “But knowing him, once he finds me gone, he’ll be on the hunt. I’ll need a good place to hide from him and his cronies.”

  “Well, that’s one thing you don’t have to worry about. You’ll stay with me for as long as you like.”

  “Why are you being so nice? You don’t even know me.” Perhaps I should have considered whether or not to trust her before I followed her here.

  Ruby put down the pizza slice she had been munching on, reached out and held her hand. “Because I’ve been where you are,” she confided. “I left a bad relationship of my own back in LA and had no one when I crossed over into this crazy town. What I would have done for a bit of kindness.” Ruby sighed. “Enough about me. Anything more come back to you? Do you know where you need to go yet?”

  “Nope,” Hope mumbled over a bit of garlic bread in her mouth.

  “Do you have any skills that might come in handy to a clan or help you to be independent?”

  “I’m almost done with college. I’ve been in theater and dance. Ballet, jazz, tap… You name it, I’ve done it. I used to dream of being a ballet dancer, but after puberty I realized I didn’t have the body type.”

  “I’d have to agree. Those ladies are so tall and thin and lithe and your short hourglass figure would stand out like a sore thumb. No offense. Even in this entertainment ridden town you may not cut it as a showgirl, but there are plenty of opportunities for your type. Granted, they’re mostly in the adult entertainment field, but it’s honest work, and it pays well. I’m an exotic dancer and make on average five hundred copper pieces a night. Others who don’t know how to work the customers as well make less, maybe only one or two hundred a night. There’s one woman I know who makes six to eight hundred a night. On top of the money, we have the flexibility of time to audition for other gigs if that’s what we want to do. If you’re interested in checking it out, I can take you with me tonight when I go into work. It’d be an easy way to make a quick buck. Plus, you can stay independent of a clan. It’s great having the freedom.”

  Hope sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was perpetuate the kind of lifestyle she had with her husband—being on exhibition—but she needed a way to exist. The promise of financial stability and freedom sounded great.

  “I’ll go with you,” Hope accepted. “I’ll scope the place out, and if I feel cool with it, then we’ll go from there.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Passing through the back door of the club into the cool night, Hope couldn’t believe how fast the week had flown. Within the first twenty-four hours of being in her new place, she’d decided to become Ruby’s co-worker, pulled her initial shift and made three hundred copper. The next day, her new roommate and friend had given her some pointers and, sure enough, the tips paid off. She had made over three grand in only six days. The men loved her wholesomeness, her petite, curvy frame, and the fact she didn’t ply them with a sob story. She was upfront with each of the gents she spoke to, telling them she had left her husband and was getting back on her feet. And, as much as she hated exposing herself to a room full of strangers, she liked the coin she made.

  She adored her new friends as well. The group of them met every night after their shifts for a very early breakfast. In fact, if she didn’t hurry, they’d leave the café before she even got there, and she needed to talk to Carly. Thanks to her, she had gotten and performed an audition that afternoon for a big production show on the strip. She wanted to voice her appreciation for the opportunity.

  Thinking a shortcut was in order, Hope slipped into a long alleyway. She hurried in the dark shadows, keeping her focus on a flickering street lamp at the end.

  Metal tinkled behind her, followed by heavy footsteps.

  Hope picked up her pace, but didn’t run and didn’t look back.

  Ruby warned me. Told me not to go out alone after a shift or go down the alley even though it was a shortcut. She chastised herself for not remembering the woman’s advice, for letting her guard down.

  The footfalls picked up their cadence behind her.

  Hope’s heart fluttered. Fleeting memories ran across her mind—sound of scratching, stench of rotting meat, pointed canines dripping crimson liquid. She racked her mind for information. They’re called… They’re called… CWUs. Dangerous creatures that could change one forever.

  Den. The man she thought of when she met Ruby. Her man. My boyfriend. He’d told me that CWUs were worse than vampires. Which was following her? She had no clue and didn’t want to find out.

  Her friend would have her head if she knew she had put herself in a dangerous situation. She began to trot and her pursuers followed suit.

  All too soon a hand grabbed her hair and yanked her back into a vise-like grip. A rough, calloused palm slapped over her mouth. She couldn’t scream and could barely move. Her eyes widened when a second man appeared into view in front of her. His long coat, shirt and pants had tears and long rips. When he leered at her, he had four fangs protruding from both the top and bottom of his jaw. He wasn’t a zombie looking rogue vampire—a main descriptor for CWUs. His mouth appeared illuminated with strange orange and red glowing streams. There was a shroud of shimmering gray around his head and arms.

  Definitely not a CWU. Just a vampire. Guess that’s good, but I’m still in trouble.

  “Well, now, there’s our lass,” the words puffed out of the second man’s mouth in a dirty, rust colored cloud of smoke.

  “Yep, we have her now,” her captor stated. “But I sense she hasn’t enlightened yet.”

  A burnt orange colored cloud drifted past her.

  “Does that mean we can turn her and have an advantage?” The assailant in front of her asked. The currents of the colors engulfing him spiked high into the air.

  “Yes, I believe it does.” The man, keeping his hand over her mouth and holding her tight, bent her neck to one side, exposed and licked her skin.

  Colors? Why was she seeing colors when there was barely any light in the alleyway? Her mind reached and strained for an answer. Detox. That had to be it. The self-assurance didn’t help, but it made sense. She was still coming off the drugs Buzz had fed her. More concerned over her experience of the DT’s, she scarcely registered the man’s teeth scraping along the skin of her throat.

  “Hey. Wait!” the guy in front of her yelped. “You got to change the last one. It’s my turn this time.” The colors over the guy’s head beat like the bars of a stereo’s equalizer output.

  Her feet grew cold. The icy burn of panic traveled up, encircling her ankles, settling in the joints of her knees and encompassing her lungs. She began to shake.

  “Yes, that may be, but I am the one who caught her after all.”

  “Let her go,” a man shouted from behind them.

&
nbsp; The first aggressor released her with such force she spun fast, stumbled and fell to the ground. The two offenders turned to the new man, hissing like feral cats, their colors swirling together in a frenzied maelstrom.

  The newcomer held up his hand, palm toward the fiends. He shouted foreign words. The vampires’ colors made a thick ribbon and headed in the new guy’s direction.

  Between the darkness of the alley and weird stream of color, she couldn’t make out who her savior was. But having the impression of him sucking the colors from her attackers and them seeming to disappear, her thought process short circuited. She swooned and dropped to the ground.

  PART SEVEN

  Faith’s Enlightenment

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tavis woke up to find the sheet near his groin tented with the biggest boner he ever had. He slipped his hand beneath his baggy shorts and lightly grasped his cock. Slowly and methodically, he slid his hand up and down the shaft, conjuring pictures of Faith in his mind.

  She’d been gorgeous in that outfit in her dream, with her long wavy, raw sienna colored hair pulled up and away from her face with a handful of clips. Her lush, inviting full lips were just waiting to be kissed. Her firm, full breasts begged to be touched. She was his tall, lithe beauty. His Zya. He had to make sure she stayed his.

  Close to the edge of satisfying himself, he stopped before he messed the sheets. The last thing he needed was to waste time cleaning something he didn’t need to. He rose from the bed, put on his ski mask and went in to the bathroom. Under the icy water of the shower, he topped himself off. After he dressed and put on the ski mask again, he left the bathroom to go find his girl. He encountered Alden on the way to Faith’s room.

  “I know I told you I’d tell you today.” Tavis held up a hand to ward off any questions Alden might have. “But I really need to check on Faith first.”

  “I wasn’t going to bother you about your Hyzendro. In fact, I have good news. A contact found Hope, had a woman call me. Hope is safe and sound. I’m leaving today and, until Hope is enlightened, I’ll be out of contact. Can you handle the situation here?”

  “Sure can,” Tavis replied with a hearty, congratulatory slap to Alden’s shoulder. “You go get your girl.”

  Alden bounded down the steps. Tavis went to Faith’s room and knocked on the door. When no answer came, his concern grew. He cracked open the door.

  Faith was asleep on her bed, looking angelic, cute, nothing like the sex kitten she’d been in his dream—their dreams—the night before. He sat beside her on the bed and moved a long lock of her hair from her face. She appeared to be in a deep sleep.

  Thinking she was still caught in the dream world, he placed a hand on the top of her head and positioned the pads of his fingers on specific points above her ears. With his other hand, he put his index finger on the point at the top of her nose between her eyebrows. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The floral scent of the lotion she liked to use filled his nostrils. He pictured her as he had seen her in his dream the night before and took another breath, hoping he could work some magic again.

  ****

  Dolon entered the great room with a heavily laden tray in his hands and stopped. In front of a casement window near the fireplace sat Zya. She had her back to him, an elbow on the sill, her face resting gently in her hand. She seemed to contemplate the desolate desert outside. He was relieved he’d been able to get to her in time, before Mabuz defiled her and changed her to the point of no return. Too many women from various clans had already been caught, captured and lost to the Caesachapel Clan and their chauvinistic and domineering ways.

  Zya couldn’t go that route. Her soul would be massacred. She’d become a shell of her former self. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow that to happen to her. He only hoped the mind spell he cast on the prince, Mabuz, his father the king, and the rest of the guard held long enough for him to break the enchantment binding Zya.

  Clearing his throat to gain her attention, he proceeded into the torch lit room. She rose from her chair and directed her attention upon him. He noted how she observed each move he made as he walked in, placed the tray on the table, and strolled over to her.

  Zya stood confidently, her chin up, shoulders back, regal. Her gold and ecru laced, ankle length dress glared in opposition to the dark walls of the great hall. Her hair was pulled back from her face and pinned in place on top of her head, accentuating her almond-shaped hazel eyes. The long locks not put in place fell in thick ringlets down upon her bare shoulders. She would have made a great queen if that had been her lot in life. Queen though she wasn’t, neither in the real world, the Statiochapel Clan, and most assuredly not in the Caesachapel Clan, nor would she ever be, he bowed before her anyway.

  “Mabuz and his followers will be detained for quite some time.” He straightened. “I have been sent here with your dinner and to see to your comfort.”

  “How nice,” her voice oozed contempt. She faced the window. “Comfort? You can make me comfortable by getting me out of here. I am so tired of being kept prisoner, of looking upon the wastelands out there, feeling like my energy is being sapped at every opportunity.”

  “I thought you said you’ve been treated well.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and looked at him like he was crazy, then went back to the view. “Just because I’m treated well doesn’t mean I like the situation. It seems all I know any more is this room, that bedroom and Mabuz’s lecherous advances.”

  “Advances? I hope you don’t mind me being forward, but I have to ask. Has Mabuz entered you?”

  She spun to face him, her mouth gaping open, eyes wide. “What is it with you men here asking if I slept with anyone? No. I haven’t. I’m still a virgin, and before you ask, it is the same here as it is anywhere else. Got it?”

  “Got it. But I do have one more inquiry.”

  “What is it?” she uttered with a sigh of annoyance.

  “Has he tasted your blood?”

  A look of horror passed over her features and a hand flew to her chest and patted the area over her heart. “No, of course not. God, no. Ick.”

  “Good. Try not to let that happen. Has anyone else here or in other realms tasted your blood?”

  She shook her head. “Look, I said it feels like my energy’s been sapped, like I’ve been drained, but not my blood. Should I be concerned about something?”

  “No. No worries. You don’t seem worse for wear. I believe I’ve come to you in time.”

  “Okay, if you say so.” She looked back out the window and lightly banged the pane with the heel of her hand. “I wish I could open this and feel the breeze that’s been blowing out there.”

  He stepped up behind her and viewed the outdoor scene over her shoulder. Tendrils of dust floated to and fro on the air. Out in the distance, a handful of dust devils swirled, picking up small rocks and other bits of matter, and hurled the items elsewhere on the desecrated landscape. “The breeze out there is one you would not want to feel. It’s dry. The air contains tiny crystalline particles that when breathed in scratch and scrape against delicate membranes. See how they cover their mouths?” He pointed at the crowd below. “They’re protecting their breathing passages. Not only that, but the heat makes breathing even more difficult.”

  “Oh,” she said sadly. “Then I guess I shall imagine I’m looking upon a sea.”

  “Are you from an area with water?” Of course he knew the answer, but he wanted her to think, to remember her true self on her own. Only then could he help her break the spell she was under.

  “Yes and no.” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. On the one hand, I sense I grew up and lived near water my whole life. On the other, I know I was land locked. Like I said before, all I really seem to know is this place and that letch. Why? Am I supposed to know another place?”

  “Yes,” Dolon and her inner voice replied together.

  She closed her eyes, appeared to concentrate for several moments, then opened them. “Nope.
Nothing. I’m here. That’s all I can see. So what’s for supper?”

  At the table, he lifted the cover off the platter. On the tray lay a huge fish filet, vegetables and cheese. They sat at the corner of the table, he at the head and her on the side. As they ate in companionable silence, he observed her nibble on the meal.

  Goddess, how I love this woman.

  She put a piece of cheese back on her plate. “You know, for some reason, I feel like I’ve known you for quite some time. You look familiar, though I don’t believe I’ve met you before. I’m comfortable with you.”

  “I like you, too,” he offered and took a sip of wine.

  “Have we met? How can we have known each other? After all, you are new to the service of the king, right?”

  “In service for the time being.”

  Her eyebrow rose at that statement. “You’re a spy?”

  “Don’t say that so loudly,” he reprimanded in a harsh whisper. “The walls might have ears. I don’t need my status announced to the world.”

  “There’s no need to fear I’ll give you away,” she grated quietly back, pushed herself from the table and went to the cold fireplace. She picked up a poker and drew in the ashes. “I’ve had a sense that all is not right here in this place, this supposed palace, and if you’re here to make things right, then who am I to stop you?”

  “I agree. Something is amiss here, and I will put things right, which includes you.”

  He sat cross-legged on the large animal rug in front of the fireplace. She sat next to him. In a bold move, he put his arm around her bare shoulders and caressed her arm with his fingertips. She sank in to him and rested her head on his shoulder. He crooned a few lines of a song. The foreign words, though harsh, seemed melodic with the way he intoned the phrases with a lilt of sadness and longing.

  “What you just sang was beautiful, but what were you saying?” She nuzzled closer to his chest.