by S. E. Green
“No thank you.” I don’t want anything impeding my senses.
“I’m very happy your sister is coming,” Alexior tells me. “Dominus says she will be working down here cleaning weapons and whatever else I deem appropriate.”
I nod. “Yes. It was his intention to make her a house slave, but I knew down here would be safer.”
Alexior turns fully to face me. “Be prepared. Your sister will likely not be the girl you remember.”
Sadness grips me and I shove the images from by brain at what she’s had to endure. I’ll love her. I’ll listen to her. I hold her if she cries. “Whatever she needs I’ll freely give it and I will never let anything happen to her ever again.”
“That’s good,” he whispers.
In the flickering light of the lit torches, we study each other’s faces. I look at the shadows beneath his cheekbones, I take in the mystery behind his gray eyes, his clean shaven head, and I wonder as I have before how he ended up here.
“What about you, Alexior? Do you have any brothers or sisters? Anybody you fiercely love?”
He studies me for a long second, like he’s wagering if he should answer, then quietly speaks, “I had a wife.”
~28~
Alexior’s face softens with sadness. “We met when I was eighteen, she twenty. Fell immediately in love. Eloped. We were kidnapped on our honeymoon.”
“Oh my God,” I gasp.
He looks away. “That was seven years ago.”
“Is she still here in Saligia?”
A muscle flexes in his jaw as he stares hard at the party waging on. Then without a word, he walks off.
Alexior! I want to yell, desperate for him to come back and tell me more. Is she dead? Is she alive? Which of the elite have her?
But if Alexior was brought here as a slave, why is he now working for them as a trainer? So many questions and way too little answers. I’d give anything to sit down with someone, ask a question, and have it properly answered.
Other than Dominus, I doubt anyone around here could answer every question. It seems like everyone is in some degree of darkness.
Music floats through the breezy air followed by bursts of laughter and giddy voices. Over to the right Camille dances with one of the visiting men.
I want to be offended—how can people party in a place like this—but I can’t seem to muster the fault. Who knows how long any of us will be alive?
I will refrain from the partying, though. I want to always be mentally prepared and alert. What good is this trained body if my mind isn’t awake, too? There will be a time when I will use both to my advantage, and I will be ready.
Reaching over, I clasp my bracelet, and the slight movement shoots a pain through my side from my fight with Zebulon. I’ve gotten so used to the aches that I find them comforting. They remind me that I’m alive. They also remind me of Sera.
Making my way through the party, I head toward the tunnel that leads to Talme’s medic room.
Up ahead I catch sight of two figures and squint to see. A naked man hoists a woman up, slams her against the stone wall, and plunges inside of her. A strangled gasp echoes through the tunnel followed by loud pleasurable grunts. I don’t look to see who it is. I don’t want to know.
Quickly, I skirt past them and silently open the wooden door that leads into the medic room. Candles flicker in each corner, casting shadows over the area. Sera lays half naked and unconscious on the same table where Talme tended to me.
Ignatius sits at her side, his voice low and gentle and soothing. I can’t make out what he’s saying but the care he has for Sera clearly runs deep.
In contrast to what’s going on outside, the near silence in here is eerie. And calming.
I’ve seen her naked many times before but her taut and defined muscles always cause me pause. Aside from her female parts she is built like a man.
Quietly I make my way into the room. Ignatius glances over his shoulder and then smoothly gets to his feet. I come to stand right beside Sera, and now that I’m so close I can barely, just barely, make out her raspy breaths fluttering in the air.
Even though her skin is ebony and gleaming with sweat, bruises overlap in Zebulon’s patchwork of pain. On me they would be angry green and brown, but they are dark on her.
On her lower stomach, Talme has tucked her intestines back inside and sewn her up. But from the puckered, pussy skin, even I recognize infection.
“When she finally gets up,” Ignatius says quietly, “it’s going to hurt for her to even breathe, let alone bend or move.”
I reach over and touch his shoulder. “Yes, but she will get up.”
His brows furrow, but he doesn’t respond. I give his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze and release it. If it were Camille or Gem standing here, they would probably offer a hug and more comfort. But I’m certainly not either of them.
He directs his usually emotionless eyes right into mine. “Thank you for killing Zebulon.”
I nod. “You’re welcome.” Though I know if things could be reversed, he’d rather I be on this table instead of Sera. I know this, but I am in no way offended.
Something glints behind him and I glance over to where a thin, hammered piece of metal hangs on the wall. I don’t remember seeing it here before. I shift my weight and something in the glint shifts, too. It’s… my reflection.
I haven’t seen myself since arriving to this place months ago. That thought has me numbly crossing the room to look.
A stranger stares back at me through wide, brown eyes with black circles beneath and choppy dark hair. I run my tongue along my dry bottom lip and turn my face to check out the bruise on my cheek. I didn’t realize I had one. I touch the freckles on my nose. Those are new from all the hours in the harsh sun. In this moment I look just like my Cuban mother. Or at least what I remember of her. The last time I saw her was twelve years ago when Lena was one. Days later she just… left, and my dad did the best he could. No, he did a hell of a job. I really miss my dad.
The door opens and Talme lurches in. Her lips immediately pucker into a scold. “Get out,” she snaps sharply and jerks her head to the tunnel. “Both of you. You know visitors aren’t allowed in here.”
Ignatius nods, and I heave a sigh. I really don’t want to go back out to the party. I shoot Talme a mock scowl and she scowls right back but there’s a hint of amusement beneath.
Whether she’ll admit it out loud or not, we bonded in that week I was in here. She has a soft spot for me. With some smooth talking, I’m confident she’d be on my side for an escape.
I glance around her medic room. She has access to many medicines that could be used in our favor. To poison. To subdue. To whatever.
Talme grabs a bowl and begins putting maggots on Sera’s infected skin. Sure I’ve heard of maggot therapy, but I’ve never actually seen it. I watch for a second as their tiny curly bodies squirm. Hopefully, I’ll never have to have maggot therapy. Or if I do, I don’t want to know about it.
Back outside I continue to hover in the shadows, watching as everyone slowly imbibes and passes out. Yes, if I were to ever make a move, it would be a time like this.
Night trickles into early morning and I force myself to stay awake. As do Alexior and Ignatius. Apparently they don’t trust all the partying either.
Eventually, the sun rises and the place quiets to only the sounds of soft snoring and birds overhead.
Dominus steps out onto the terrace. “Alexior, bring me Valoria.”
I jump from the shadows. “Is Lena here?”
Dominus nods and disappears back into the villa.
In my chest my heart slowly begins pulsing and then builds to a thumping race until it’s all I can feel throughout my body. I race across the training ground, leap over a few naked passed out bodies, and sprint down the tunnel.
Alexior quickly follows.
At the gate, the soldier takes his time pulling out his key and fitting it into the lock.
“Hurry,” I urge.
The gate opens and I race up the stairs. The soldier at the top takes his time as well and I clamp my teeth together to keep myself from roaring at him.
That gate creaks open and I surge into the villa. Every muscle and capillary in me hums with joy. I’m about to see my sister. I’m about to see Lena!
Dominus greets me with a forlorn look that clamps me in panic. “Valoria…” his voice trails off and his shoulders lift as he breathes in.
I push past him, deaf, not listening as he begins speaking, trying to explain something. “Where is she?” I shout.
He keeps speaking and the words medic room and Talme leak into my fear.
Spinning, I fly back down the stairs. I burst into Talme’s room, gulping for air, and there lies Lena with Talme hovering over her.
I don’t move. I can’t. My feet weigh heavy on the floor. It’s Lena. But it’s not. Her hair is long, like it has always been, but it’s matted with mud and blood.
Beneath her filthy tunic, every bone in her small body juts out in angry starvation. Her chest lifts on a hollow, hoarse breath. She’s alive!
From behind me, someone touches my arm. “Valoria.” It’s Alexior’s voice.
I throw his touch off and race over. “Get away from her,” I snap at Talme and fold my sister into my arms. I inhale her soiled body odor and bury my face in her crusty neck. “Lena,” I sob.
She inhales a high pitched moan that clenches all my organs and has me rocking her. “It’s okay, baby girl. It’s okay.”
Gently I lift up and smooth her tangled hair from her emaciated dirty face. Her black lashes flutter and I smile when her dark eyes meet mine. She lifts a shaky hand and touches the tears trailing hotly down my cheeks. Then her lips quiver, her eyes roll back, and she is gone.
~29~
I switch off the engine and turn to my sister. “Stay here. You’ll be safe.”
Some guy opens my door, and I nearly jump back. He’s dressed in a suit with dark glasses and no smile. He nods once, and I take that as my cue to slide out.
Nerves flutter through me and I breathe through them.
I smooth my hands down a pencil skirt I found at Goodwill, double check the tuck on my white blouse, and retighten my long dark ponytail.
Lena hands me the black binder that has only my resume in it, but it looks professional and better than just carrying a sheet of paper.
“You’re going to do great,” she tells me.
I wink at her and follow the stern suited guy inside. He leads me across a marble foyer and I’m more than aware of my heels echoing in the quiet house. I take the quick moment to look around—up at the vaulted ceiling, to the right at a grand staircase, and out the bank of windows that overlook a pool bordered by palm trees.
Suited guy raps on a closed double door before opening the left panel and motioning me inside.
I take a deep breath and step into the dim interior. Wood—it’s the first thing I notice. It’s everywhere: the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the desk, the built-in shelves. Shiny dark wood like it’s recently been oiled.
Tobacco enters my senses next, and I catch a lazy stream of smoke winding up from the desk where an older gentleman sits. I know from my research he is seventy-two years old. But looking at his salt-and-pepper hair and tan skin, I would guess at least ten years younger.
He gives my entire body a quick once-over, but before I have time to feel uncomfortable he offers a kind smile and indicates I should sit in one of the two chairs in front of his desk.
I tell myself to calm down. The last thing I need to be is a stammering fool.
I hold my hand out, very professional like I practiced. “Hello, Mr. Vasquez. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I give his hand a firm shake, take a seat, and immediately open my binder and hand him my resume.
He slides it aside without even looking at it.
He taps two long fingers on the desktop. “I’ll review that later. Let’s just talk and get to know each other.”
My lips curve. “Okay. I’ve worked all around Miami clean—”
“How old are you?”
“Um, twenty-one.” I probably shouldn’t have started talking. He’s the interviewer not me.
“And you have a younger sister?”
“Yes. Lena.”
“And how old is she?”
Why does that matter? “She’s thirteen, sir.”
“You are her primary caregiver?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
“Your mother abandoned you girls, and your father died a couple of years ago. He was a cop, wasn’t he?”
Uneasiness squirms its way inside me. These aren’t the questions I was expecting. How does he know about my parents? “I’m sorry, Mr. Vasquez. What does this have to do with my qualifications?”
He doesn’t answer and instead reaches over, picks his cigar up, and takes a couple of cloudy puffs. Then he gives me another one of those kind smiles, and the uneasiness in me settles a little bit.
“This job comes with a garage apartment,” he points out. “Which means you’ll be living on my property. If you’re living on my property, I’d like to know everything about you. I’m sure you can understand that.”
He does have a point. “Yes, sir.”
Mr. Vasquez doesn’t say anything for several quiet seconds and the only thing that fills the office is the soft ticking of the old timey clock on a shelf behind him.
He raises his finger and it’s only then I realize there is a man standing behind me. “Bring in this sister. I’d like to meet her as well.”
I go to get up. “I can get her.”
Mr. Vasquez nods a go-ahead to the man and picks up my resume. “You stay here and tell me all about this.”
Finally. “After our dad died, I got a job at the Red Roof Inn. Last year I moved over to the Hampton Inn. Sir, I really want a better life for me and my sister. With the pay and the accommodations you’re offering, it will allow me to enroll her in a better school, and I would like to start taking night classes and putting away money for her college, too.”
“Your father didn’t leave you any money?”
“Yes.” Granted, not much. “I used it to pay off bills.”
The office door opens and Lena timidly steps in. The huge security guard behind her only makes her seem even smaller.
I smile and hold my hand out and she eagerly crosses the room to take it. “Mr. Vasquez, this is my sister.”
He doesn’t greet her and instead looks over our heads and nods. I glance back to see not the one suited guy, but now two. Uneasiness settles once again way down deep and I start to get up.
One of the men grabs me. The other one grabs Lena. She screams. Something pricks me in the neck. And my whole world goes black.
~30~
I’ve heard that when a slave dies, their body is loaded onto the galleon and dumped into the black water that surrounds us. I can’t bear the thought of another stranger handling my sister’s body and so I request an audience with Dominus.
Alexior escorts me through the villa where we find Dominus at his desk looking through papers. When I enter he quickly closes and latches a soft leather notebook and my eyes linger on it as he slides it into a desk drawer.
I’d give about anything to see what’s in that notebook. There’s no visible technology on the island, but I’d place a solid bet that’s his form of a computer right there.
Dominus stands and crosses the room to me. With a pitiful expression that doesn’t look fake he reaches out and clasps my shoulders, just like he did the last time I was in here and he delivered the news my sister had been found.
“Valoria,” he squeezes my shoulders and then releases them, “please know I did everything in my power to bring her safely to you. I did not know she would be delivered in the condition she was. It’s important to me that you believe that.”
Hi
s tone is so convincing I can’t help myself but believe him. Plus, how would he benefit from killing my sister? He knew she was the only reason I lived. The only reason I fought. The only reason I made him money. The only reason I stood compliant.
I hold my posture rigid and dispassionately ask, “Do you know who had her?”
My tone surprises him, and his eyebrows come down. “Are you okay?” he carefully asks.
Right now I’m nothing. I’m empty. I’m numb. My sister died in my arms while I sobbed. Now I want answers. “Do you know?” I repeat.
“I do not. But I will find out for you because I, too, am very upset. All of my contacts knew I was looking for her.”
“Bareket said two men bought Lena. And you told me they took her to Tawain. What did they do to her then?”
“They kept her for a while and then abandoned her. That’s where she became untraceable. Often times girls like that get dumped in a whorehouse and they become just another face. That’s why it took me so long to locate her.”
His words shoot angry pricks through me and suddenly I’m not so numb. Every muscle in my body tenses and it takes every bit of self-control not to spring through the air and claw his face. “Girls. Like. That?”
He holds his hands up. “I’m sorry. Listen, I promise you I will find who had her last, and I will bring him here, and I will let you decide what happens. Until then, harness this vengeance, focus this rage, and use both to garner future earnings toward your freedom.”
“I don’t care about my freedom. Everything I lived for is gone.”
“Then set your thoughts on killing whoever did this to your sister. Let that be the reason you live. Everyone in Saligia is talking about Valoria, the defiant one. You need to ride that victorious wave. You need to use it to your advantage.”
“She was innocent! She didn’t do anything wrong. She should have never been here.”
Dominus steeples his hands in front of his face and studies me. “What can I do? I already promised to bring you the person who had her last. What else can I do for you? I want you to know how much I value you.”