Treat (Terraway Book 5)

by Mary E. Twomey

  “Repulsive?” I guessed. “Yeah, I can see that. But since you’re here, might as well patch these up.” I set about cleaning his scrapes, which went pretty deep, the one on his low back needing stitches. “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to ask you to lower your pants just a little so I can suture the end of this slice.”

  Bishop unbuttoned his pants and slid them down the necessary two inches. He leaned over the sink and covered his eyes with his hand to keep from seeing the whole scene in the mirror. “This is so embarrassing! I meet the new Omen, and instead of bowing, I drop my pants for her.”

  I chuckled softly at his chagrin. “Don’t worry about it. Mariang’s the impressive Omen you bow to. I’m really a nurse. That’s what I did before this gig, so just think of this as a visit to the doctor’s. Save the bowing for the cool kids.”

  “My doctor’s balding and has a mole the size of Big Ben on the end of his nose. Not quite the same thing.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” I worked as quickly as possible to save him more embarrassment, his face flushed as he tried to hold still. “Do you think Von’s hurt? Mason wouldn’t let me near enough to give him a thorough examination.”

  “That’s probably best. It wouldn’t do any good for him to snap at you. Omen’s are part human, yeah?”

  “Yup.”

  “Right, so your blood might send him over the edge.” He shook his head, determined. “We can’t have that. I’ve never heard of a half-vamp pulling for an Omen. Not to scare you, but I can’t imagine life expectancy’s all that long for this kind of situation.”

  “That’s not supposed to scare me?”

  “I worry, is all. The state of Terraway rests on the Omens being able to function. I know from Von and Danny’s letters and calls home that Mariang’s not always at the top of her game.”

  I swallowed as I tied off the suture, placing a bandage over the line so the stitches didn’t snag on his jeans as he pulled them up. “I can handle myself. And now that there’s two of us, Mariang’s doing a lot better. Plus, Mason’s my other Reaper. If Von’s not firing on all cylinders, Mason’s got a handle on it.”

  “I guess that does make things better.” He shook his head, turning to face me. “You should’ve seen him. I didn’t know Von would get like that. Danny’s pretty tight-lipped about Von’s condition. Von didn’t live in London after he was bitten; he was too afraid to see any of us. Afraid he’d bite us. It was dreadful to think of him out here alone and dealing with fending off a vampire transition. Then when he did finally come home to visit, he wouldn’t stay at any of our flats. He rented a room to make sure he didn’t bite any of us. It was awful.”

  “Well, you’d be proud of how far he’s come. Von’s a great Reaper. One of the best. He’s starting to seem not so scared of himself most days.” I searched Bishop’s face for a friend and found one easily. “Danny wasn’t too thrilled in the beginning, but it’s working out. He’s growing into his job.”

  A flicker of a haunted look crossed over Bishop’s face. “Von doesn’t need to grow up. Had a terror of a time when we were younger. He deserves a little irresponsibility. Danny’s too harsh with him. Expects him to be our father when that was never Von’s role.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and decided to let the façade of distance down. “You won’t get any arguments here. I just meant that the things Von’s had to make peace with? As much as anyone can, it seems like he’s moving in that direction. It’s good for him.”

  “Sounds like you’re good for him. That’s what Danny’s been saying, anyway.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “Seriously? Danny hates me. I can’t believe he said anything complimentary about me.”

  “Aw, that’s just Danny. His way of caring about someone is barking at them to make sure they brush their teeth. That one took me a while to figure out, but it’s there.”

  “Sounds like you’re the person to see if I need a Vandershot family cheat sheet.”

  Bishop leaned his butt on the sink, crossing his arms and smiling. “Only if you want the truth.”

  “Hit me with it. Vandershot 101.”

  “Alright. Mum raised us. Dad split when Danny and Von were kids. He’d come back every couple years to knock up mum, eat pot roast and leave. Von was the man of the house early on, and when he dropped the ball, as most children tend to do, Danny reamed him for it.” Bishop lowered his voice and leaned in conspiratorially. “Von sends us all postcards from Dad every Christmas. No one else knows they’re really from Von, but I found them in his drawer one year.” Bishop brushed his hands down his chest over and over one at a time until words surfaced. “You should read them. Apparently Dad’s on a whaling boat that only docks once a year, and he can’t control the port they land on. It’s why Dad’s been MIA since we were kids. Each postcard’s filled with all the things you always want your dad to say to you, the things you need to hear.”

  My hand flew to my swelling heart. “Oh my goodness. That’s too wonderful. Too precious. He really did that?”

  “Still does.” Bishop nodded. “To see him tied to a post, beaten and bled, snapping his fangs to get at us?” He shook his head. I wasn’t sure how Bishop and I got to the place of such unabashed honesty, but suddenly we were there. “Von’s my hero. Broke me a little bit to see him so bested.”

  I turned my head slowly from side to side, and no words came to me for a solid fifteen seconds. “That’s the worst and sweetest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

  “I can see he’s in good hands with you. I worry sometimes that he’s over here with only Danny. Danny’s great, but…”

  “But Danny’s a raging butthole?”

  Bishop sniggered. “I was going to say that Danny’s great, but he’s not so great to Von. Blames Von for Dad leaving.”

  My nose crinkled. “How’d he work that one out?”

  “Because Von beat up Dad the last time he came around. I was only a baby at the time, but Alton can tell you the details. Dad was slapping Mum around, so Von broke Dad’s arm and leg with a baseball bat. Told him if he ever came back, he’d break the other side of his body. So Dad never came back, and no one hit my Mum ever again.”

  My mouth had fallen open. “I can’t believe Danny would be upset about a guy like that leaving. I can’t believe he’d blame Von.”

  “I don’t think he looks at the wound too closely. He just knows that Von’s the reason he doesn’t have a dad. So Von sends Danny Christmas postcards from Dad every year. The only way Danny hears the things he needs to is if he thinks it’s coming from Dad.”

  “That’s terrible. I mean, really. I think I’ll need to mull over all that for a while.”

  Bishop and I looked at each other with new appreciation. He didn’t have to be so worried about Von, and I had an ally.

  Seventeen.

  Slumber Party

  It was a long night of waiting out Von’s anguished cries while the blood took its sweet time working its way through him. I let the others talk nonstop about if should they send down another team to help out Danny, Bev and Kabayo or not, while I stayed in the basement with Mason. He was reticent to leave my side when I was near the gnashing vampire. Mason brought down a couple sleeping bags and pillows, though I knew he wished for the comfort of our bed upstairs. I was a couple of feet from the cell, my knees clutched to my chest as I watched my BFF devolve while my heart broke for him.

  By midnight, Von had quieted enough to let Mason pull out some of his stress through the bars. He lay asleep on the cold floor of the cell, twitching every so often as saliva trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

  “He’s alright,” Mason assured me. “Come to bed, hani.”

  I nodded, releasing my grip on my knees and crawling to the sleeping bag as footsteps descended the stairs. “Hey, Bishop. You need something?”

  “No. Just thought I’d sleep down here. I see I’m not the only one who had that idea. Sorry. Is it weird if I join you?”

  “Of course not.
Why would it be weird? He’s your brother.” I patted the empty space near my head. I didn’t want him blocking my view of Von. The second he was himself, I wanted to bust him out of that cage. I didn’t like Von in a cage. He was so much better freed.

  Mason gave a heavy sigh. “He means were we planning on having sex tonight. No, Bishop. October and I are just friends.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Mason. “Don’t say that like being my friend’s the lame consolation prize. I’m a good friend.”

  “Of course you are. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Boston clomped down the steps. “He meant that he’d much prefer being your naked friend, Cherry.”

  “Boston!” Mariang admonished him, flitting down the stairs without making a single step creak.

  My nose crinkled. “Oh. Well, no can do on that front.” I craned my neck up to Boston. “And you shut up about it. Shouldn’t you be out hitting on some underaged girls at a club somewhere?”

  Boston threw down a sleeping bag near my head, with Bishop taking the spot between Von and me, blocking my view of the cell. “Nah. Doesn’t feel right going out when Von’s not himself yet. After that, I’ll be sure to take him out to hit on plenty of eager women. Looks like you get me for the night, Cherry.”

  I cast a baleful look at Mason, who shrugged. “Von’s their brother. They’re just as concerned as we are. Lay back down. It’ll be fine.”

  Mariang laid down on Mason’s other side, looking like a dainty angel atop her rolled out pink down comforter. She tucked her body under a fuzzy cream blanket. “Mason? Do you mind if I…”

  “Of course.” Mason shifted onto his back and clasped his hand with Mariang’s, pulling so she could calm down enough to sleep. Mason’s stomach rumbled, so I scampered up the steps to retrieve some food for him, knowing he’d soon be ravenous, even though he’d just eaten. I brought him down a few sandwiches, and he thanked me with a tender look in his eyes that made my stomach feel strange.

  “Come here,” he said, pulling me down by the hem of my shirt to hover over him. Mariang was already asleep by his side. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to my cheek before lowering me down to his other side so he could whisper in my ear. “You are a good friend. If that’s all you can give me, it’s enough.”

  I kissed his cheek and sat up. “Thanks. How about I cut you a break tonight so you don’t have double the duties? I don’t need you to pull from me right now. I’m not all that tired anyways. Get some sleep.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I can hear your stomach rumbling a mile away. You’re getting overloaded. It’s not fair to you.”

  “We can help,” Bishop offered. “Our family’s Duwende, you know. It won’t be as good as your Reaper, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “Thanks, but I’m cool. Normal people go through stressful stuff all the time without a Duwende.”

  Mason cleared his throat, but still whispered so as not to wake Mariang. “No. You need a Duwende. If you cut your scars open in the night, it’ll drive Von mad. It’s painful for him when you bleed, hani.”

  I shot him a “dude, shut up about it in mixed company” look, which Mason only shrugged at. “Fine. But I’m not tired yet, so you’re off the hook for a while, Bishop. That is, if you’re still up for pulling.” I crawled over to the cage, stopping a healthy two feet from the bars so I could watch Von sleep.

  Bishop nodded, hand to his chest. “I’d be honored.”

  Boston moved his sleeping bag between mine and Mason’s. “I notice you didn’t ask me for help, even though I’m far better at pulling than Bish is.”

  “There’s a reason for that,” I groused. “Get some sleep, guys. Who knows what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

  * * * *

  My dream was sucky, and I couldn’t find Von in it. I dreamt I was throwing up, which made me feel like brushing my teeth when I finally woke. I’d fallen asleep in front of Von’s cage, worried that he’d wake up in his right mind and panic at still being bound. I felt my body being jostled, and opened my eyes in confusion. “Sorry. I’m getting tired, and I don’t like you so close to the cage.” I was in Bishop’s arms, and he laid me gently atop my opened sleeping bag, carefully zipping me inside. I couldn’t believe a near stranger was carrying me like a baby and I wasn’t protesting. I blame it on the puking dream exhausting me beyond my normal threshold. “You’re cold. Do you want me to get you another blanket?”

  “No, no. Thanks, though. Get some sleep.” I was all set to nod off, but my eyes flew open when Bishop held my hand. I recoiled, suddenly awake.

  “I’m sorry. How should I pull from you?”

  “Oh, right. Um, I’m not one for hand-holding.” I tried to think through the logistics of separate sleeping bags and how to make physical contact through so many layers.

  “I promise I’m not trying anything ungentlemanly. I can’t pull without contact, and holding hands seems the least intrusive way.”

  I covered my face with my palms and sighed, glad that everyone else was asleep. “I have a thing about people touching my hands. I know it’s weird. It’s not you. I’m just a freak.” I felt suddenly defeated at the admission, wishing it didn’t define so many of my moments. My shoulders slumped, and I couldn’t look at him. I wished for the gloves Von had bought me, but they were upstairs.

  Bishop studied my face, seeing the shame I wished I didn’t have to admit to him. “You’re not a freak. I’m practically a stranger.”

  “Any other suggestions?” I asked as I shivered in the cold basement.

  Bishop looked guilty at his suggestion. “We could share a sleeping bag. I promise not to hold your hands.”

  I unzipped my sleeping bag without a word and motioned for him to come inside. He nodded and got out of his sack, crawling with a determined look on his face as he tucked himself into mine. I was too tired to evaluate how weird this all was, or that it didn’t feel strange at all to let Bishop into my personal space. Now that we had a secret about Von, I felt I could trust him a little. At least enough to share a sleeping bag.

  The space was snug with his larger body squished to mine, but I didn’t mind it. The tight compression actually relaxed me, and whether it was the pulling or just Bishop’s calming presence, my hand found its way to his chest. He reached behind me and picked up Boston’s lifeless wrist as his brother snored softly, placing it on my shoulder so I could get a double pulling while I slept.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, snuggling into his body without the hesitation two strangers should have.

  “No problem, sister.”

  Eighteen.

  My Name is October

  I awoke to being the ham in the twin sandwich. Boston’s arm wrapped around me like he was holding a teddy bear, and Bishop’s arm was looped around my hips as our stomachs pressed together.

  From behind Bishop, I heard my name whispered, and it jerked me awake. My head lifted, but it didn’t have far to go. I was pretty glued to Bishop. “October?” I heard again, this time with more clarity.

  “Von? Von!” I tried to scramble out of the sleeping bag, but ended up waking Bishop to a faceful of my breasts, for which I couldn’t stop apologizing for.

  “Help me!” Von whined, and I could hear the pain in his voice.

  Bishop sat up once I extracted myself from the sleeping bag, taking in the darkness that was difficult to see through. “Von?”

  “I can’t feel my arms! My shoulders are burning. Why am I still tied up?”

  “They couldn’t get the ropes off without you biting them. Are you seriously yourself already? How are you forming whole sentences?”

  Bishop grabbed at my leg to stop me. “Wait! I’ll open the cage. If he’s going to attack someone, it shouldn’t be you.”

  “He’s not going to… It’s clearly Von!” I waved my hand to the cage, noticing the others stirring at the commotion.

  “Bishop?” Von’s voice quaked with self-loathing. “Oh, bollocks. You’ve all seen me like this?”<
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  Bishop closed his eyes. “Nope. I see nothing but a bloke with too much pride.”

  Von let out a frustrated growl. “Well, apparently I’ve got no pride left now. I promise not to bite anyone. Just undo the bindings! It hurts too much.”

  Mason stretched and stood, moving in front to guard me. “Go ahead. I’ve got her.” He called over his shoulder, “Mariang? Could you run upstairs and grab Von another blood bag?”

  “Of course,” she said through her yawn. Bishop waited until she scampered up the steps before opening the cell door.

  Boston cracked his neck twice as he stood with Mason between me and Von, his fists raised in preparation. I didn’t like any of this one bit. “Von? It’s alright. Bishop’s going to cut you loose. How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been tied up for half a week. Oh! Careful, Bish. I can’t really move.” I watched with longing as Bishop pulled a knife from his discarded boots and cut Von’s legs loose. When Bishop severed the tie on his arms, Von’s hands didn’t budge from their position. It looked like he was too sore to move on his own. He let out a frustrated moan of pain and humiliation.

  “Help him!” I cried, frustrated that I couldn’t be of any use. Mason was a wall in front of me with Boston. Boston looked like he wanted to run to his big brother, but knew he couldn’t just yet.

  Mariang came down the stairs with a blood bag, and Von’s nose twitched as a flash of something sinister flared in his eyes. “Keep the girls away!” Von yelled. He couldn’t stand, but his body tried to inch toward the blood Mariang handed to Mason. “Don’t let me hurt them!”

  “We’ve got you, mate. Not to worry.” Boston herded Mariang and me toward the far wall while I tucked Mariang behind my back, shielding her from any impending attack. Boston’s muscles were tensed as his arm looped behind him to rest on my hip. “If I say so, I need you to take Mariang and run upstairs.”

  “Don’t let anyone hurt Von,” I begged.