Even though Blue was pressed right against Sam, it was still not close enough. Huge, gaping holes in her psyche stung where they were exposed. “Tighter, Sam! I’m still falling apart. You’re not close enough,” Blue whispered into his neck, ignoring his goosebumps that responded readily to her soft breath on his sensitive spot. When he gave her a reassuring squeeze, she shook her head. “So tight, you think you’re gonna hurt me. I mean it, Sam. I can’t feel it! I can’t feel you.” She swallowed hard. “I can’t feel anything.”
His serious black eyes met her unfocused blues, and nodded. Despite the movement of the vehicle, he lifted her off the seat next to him and slid her onto his lap. Strong arms banded around her torso and squeezed, slowly increasing his strength until he was certain he was hurting her. “You feel that? Is that better?” Sam asked through gritted teeth.
With the increased force compressing her joints, Blue’s muscles began to relax, releasing a bit of the tension and misery that pulled at her. She let a portion of it go when Sam’s grip was more firm than the grief that clawed at her. Blue shivered as the body heat collected from shaking for so long left her. “Cold,” she whispered, staring vacantly in Liam’s direction.
Brody turned on the heat to full blast, though the car was already warm. He met Sam’s eye and nodded in solidarity. They’d looked after Julia, why not her doppelganger?
Liam met Blue’s soulless eyes with compassion. Her cheek was pressed to Sam’s shoulder, defeated by the day. The prince took off his jacket and draped it over her body, moving closer to the two. “It’ll be okay, kitten. We’ll kill that predator, and then send you right back home. Just think of it as a little holiday.” His thumb met her face and traced the arc of her cheek tenderly.
Alec shifted his body and shook his head at Liam, indicating that lying to her would not help the situation. Then he spoke, directing his quiet words to the window. “Hold her tighter, Sam.” Alec cleared his throat. “Hardest part’s over, Blue. That pain you’re feeling? It’ll dull. It always does.” His tone was hollow with suppressed sorrow, and Blue could tell, beneath her own unhappiness, that Alec was the only one in the vehicle who could somehow relate.
That would have to be enough. The four of them would have to be enough. Someone to understand her plight. Someone to make her smile through the fight. Someone to bicker with and distract her. Someone to hold her together and love her. They would be her weapons. They would make her strong. Together, they would fight to free the Vemreaux from whatever tyranny dared rise up to meet them.
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Book Two in Volumes of the Vemreaux
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Chapter One
New Home
It had been four days since Prince Liam indulged the world in a smile. The garish grin that was once a permanent fixture on his face seemed to have found a new home entirely. Where that new abode was, no one could say. Much of Europe was not given to merriment as of late.
The washing machine offered the only noise in that section of the gargantuan house. To call it a house was not accurate, but saying “mansion” sounded so odd to Blue that she could not wrap her mind around it. The laundry took a little time. In The Way they sorted laundry, but it was barely a chore. All the orange jumpsuits went in one pile, white underthings in another.
After a brief rundown of how to sort their garments by the succinct and tight-lipped elderly housekeeper, Blue adjusted to the new method. Apparently, clothes had to be separated by color and delicacy of the fabric here. Blue was a quick learner, having to be told things once, if catching on by observing was not an option. Josephine, however, was not one whose constitution tolerated errors.
Since they had landed in Europe four days ago, Blue began making a tally of her mistakes so that, during dull moments, she could recite them to herself as a sort of verbal beating. She kept her mouth shut as she stumbled through the long list of domestic tasks, speaking only when nodding would not suffice.
Josephine ran the domestic aspect of the household like a captain might command his ship of top-notch sailors. That is, if a sea captain had brown hair with streaks of gray pulled up into a bun so tight, it provided a temporary facelift.
On her second day, Blue managed to mop the floor with the wrong kind of solution, and then had to clean the sticky surface all over again. The mansion was so expansive that Blue had to tap into her heightened abilities so that she did not get lost in the maze. It would have been a great help if someone could have shown her around, or at the very least, drawn her up a map. Everyone was so preoccupied with more important things than getting her acclimated that she was, for the most part, left alone to figure things out. Blue counted this a blessing, for many of her blunders went unseen this way.
The room she’d been given was enormous. It was larger than the hut by far, and her bunker in The Way that housed twelve girls. The bed was beyond the capabilities of a Wayward’s imagination. It was bedecked with tall iron posts and crimson curtains hanging down from them so that she could shut herself inside for optimum darkness. The comforter was light beige with gold and ruby swirls sewn into it. It was so gorgeous that she categorically refused to touch it, for fear of sullying the beauty. The small red accents were subtle, but when paired with the deep rouge of the hanging bed curtains, it made the whole sumptuous nest look warm and romantic. Blue thought it looked as though the bed was lit by constant candlelight, even in midday.
A tall and intimidating dark wood wardrobe stood proudly at the northern wall of the room, begging for her to put it to use. Blue did not touch this, though, either. It was too perfect, and she could not bring herself to put her burlap sack with the two changes of clothes she’d brought with her from the hut inside of it. Her sack looked pathetic and out of place. It was not much of a leap to think of herself in that way – the one thing in the immaculate mansion that did not belong.
Josephine wrote the duties for the day on the dry erase board in the main kitchen in the morning. Blue spent the rest of the day trying to decipher her tightly scripted handwriting and figure out what each assignment meant. Frustration often threatened Blue’s meek demeanor when she was given a job that was foreign to her. She wished she could ask questions, but it had been beaten into her that speaking out of turn was not an acceptable practice for Waywards when interacting with Vemreaux. Blue was keen not to earn a beating in her new home.
The scent from Elle and Grettel had faded. Blue no longer smelled Wayward, so Josephine made the assumption that the new servant was Vemreaux. Perhaps it would make no difference if she knew that Blue had been raised in The Way and had no knowledge of things like polishing wood or sorting laundry. Perhaps Josephine would not frown at Blue’s clothing if she knew they were all the girl had. Those revelations would fall under the category of exposing herself to people, which was not something Blue would do without the proper aggressive prodding.
Sam, Liam, Brody and Alec left the first night they’d returned to the mansion, and had not been back since. No explanation was given, and Blue did not think it her place to ask Josephine where her new owner had gone. She wished Sam at least had told her where he was taking off to.
Not my place, Blue scolded herself as she folded laundry. Just because he was nice to you doesn’t mean he owes you any kind of explanation. He’s Vemreaux. You’re Wayward. You’re not equals, no matter how many times he looks at you like that.
The mansion was uncommonly noiseless at night. The quiet was overwhelming at times when the autumn sun would attempt to deceive her into thinking that the day held promise of change or movement other than what came from the few servants. A weight settled over everyone, and Blue wondered when she would be allowed to disturb it.
The trip to Europe was not for recreation, nor was her sole purpose to be a household servant. She was supposed to be taking the steps to get to the island that housed the O-bloods. There had been three more Vemreaux disappearances since they had left the Americas, which was the reaso
n for the deafening silence and Liam’s hiatus. Prince Liam had purchased her and brought her to live with him as a servant so that she could get to the island and kill whatever was butchering all the Vemreaux. It had all seemed so important a few days ago. Blue was confused as to the sudden drop in urgency.
Though she did not want to admit it, the most unsettling shift was found in Sam. The attractive Vemreaux spent almost the entire airplane and armored car drive over to the mansion attached to her in some tangible way. When the fear began to rise in her as the small aircraft lifted off of the runway, he had held her hand, speaking calming words that, to the others, may not have sounded like the perfect thing to say, but to her, made all the difference.
Not knowing much about the mechanics of an airplane, Sam had explained everything that was happening as best he could, down to running through Newton’s third law just so she understood as well as he did. He even asked the co-pilot to come back when he was not busy so he could fill in the gaps that were left. While some might find that kind of one-way conversation boring, it was just the medicine Blue needed to feel safe so high up in the air. She still wished she could take apart the plane herself and put it back together so she could understand all there was to it, but this was better than nothing.
Sam’s hand never fell away from hers, even as his mind drifted into unconsciousness. Blue had been left to her wonderings. She made sure to close her eyes whenever the flight attendant walked through the cabin so that it appeared she was capable of sleep, but her mind never stopped processing all the new information.
After landing at the airport in Europe, the only time Sam’s hand left hers was when he let her slide into the backseat of the chauffeured vehicle. The moment he ducked in and sat next to her, his fingers once again stroked hers, as if he needed the contact to properly breathe.
The car ride had been long, but Blue did not mind. Conversation picked up in the back of the vehicle that sat all five of them somewhat comfortably. There was one bench that faced forward and one that angled toward the back. They all had enough elbow room so they were not on top of each other, though this notion did not persuade Sam to move so much as a few centimeters from Blue’s side. One hand held hers, while the other draped around her back to affix her to his side, where he would occasionally brush his fingertips along the curve of her hip. Each time he did it, Blue had to work to hide her blush and the shiver that exploded up her spine. Occasionally, Liam would glance up from his stack of paperwork to examine their connection with an approving twinkle in his eye.
Brody’s irritation in the car at their closeness had spewed out of his mouth in the form of sarcasm and outright criticism. Blue had responded by removing her hand from Sam’s.
Brody argued with Alec, giving Sam the chance to address Blue’s closed-off demeanor he had worked so hard to open up. “What’s wrong?”
Blue shrugged. “It makes Brody mad when we hold hands, I think. He’s right. I’m Wayward. You’re Vemreaux. I don’t know why I keep forgetting I shouldn’t be holding your hand like that.” Instead of looking up at him, she had stared down at his lap so he could not see her eyes.
“I like when you hold my hand. I want you near me.” Sam had turned to his friend with a warning in his tone. “Seriously, Brode. Leave her alone. She’s not used to your mouth, and I’m barely tolerating it right now.”
Brody let out a gust of air, regarding Blue with an expression of utter mockery. It seemed most of the things he did and said were done to taunt, and Blue was the new object of scorn.
Sam’s phone sounded, and when he had pulled it out, Blue glanced over at the screen. “Who’s 237? Is that a person’s name?” She only ventured to speak to change the subject from Brody’s sarcasm.
Brody and Alec had sniggered while Sam blanched, ignoring the call. “Not a name. It’s no one.”
Brody’s mirth came out in a chuckle, while Alec had subdued his reaction to a smirk.
“What?” Blue questioned, jutting her chin out to demand being taken seriously by those she had not meant to include in the private conversation. “What’s 237?”
“Nothing. It’s just a number, Blue.”
“Now, now.” Brody pretended to scold Sam as a teacher might. “That’s not all it is. Go ahead, Sam.”
“Do you want me to thrash you right here?” Sam had leaned forward, looking darkly into Brody’s still laughing eyes. “Quit messing with her.”
Blue frowned next to him. “I don’t understand. Why are you mad?”
Alec folded his arms over his chest and sized up Sam, daring him to own up to his actions. “That’s a pretty high number, Pan. You hit the grand two hundred mark just before we left for the Americas.”
Brody tapped his finger to his chin. “Is it 237 bills you make a week?”
Sam’s eye roll had made Blue smile. “No. Maybe it’s 237 punches in the face I owe you. You’re working your way up to 238, so knock it off.”
Liam looked up from his paperwork, as if only just realizing there were people next to him. He glanced from face to face for someone to give him a clue as to what he had missed.
Alec chimed in, though his tone had been less antagonistic than Brody’s. “237 times you’ve done something selfless?”
“237 fishes?” Liam suggested. The bewildered looks he garnered told him he was off-topic. “What are we talking about?”
“What? No, Liam. Leave it alone, guys. She’s new to the real world.”
“Then shouldn’t you be educating her on it? I mean, she asked you a direct question. Most she’s spoken in a few hours,” Alec commented. “If you don’t tell her, I’m happy to. Actually, let Brody educate her. He looks like he’s been dying for the chance.”
Brody’s laugh cut short, and he and Sam had turned to glower at Alec. Brody had grown red in the cheeks. Once again, Blue was in the dark.
Sam exhaled, tucking away the scowl he’d cast at Brody and Alec. “It’s nothing, Blue. I keep a tally on my phone. Sometimes I put a girl’s phone number in here. That’s all. It’s just a person’s phone number.”
“Okay,” Blue responded, keeping her eyes on her hands. She could sense the tension in Sam’s body, and though she still did not feel like her question had been answered, she had not dared to question him again.
Wayward or Vemreaux, boys were still boys. Sam was no exception. When Blue had been sitting next to Sam in the car, she wished she could disappear. Especially when Liam finally answered her question.
“You’re up to 237 Fems already, Sam? That’s higher than I thought.”
Sam had let out an exasperated groan. “Seriously, Liam! I’m trying, here.”
Blue blinked up at Liam, trying to make sense of the conversation. “Sam has 237 Femreaux friends? Why is that a bad thing? That sounds good.” She had turned to Sam, cocking her head to the side. “Why are you embarrassed by that? I only have two girl friends. You’re very popular.” Blue held in her sadness at being so limited by her brother about whom she could befriend.
Before Sam could conjure up an adequate excuse, Liam cut in. “237 is the number of Fems Sam’s had sex with, kitten.”
Blue had cringed at her stupidity. Of course that’s what they were talking about.
Sam had been just as mortified, and they both stared out the window of the car to mask their chagrin. Never had it been clearer how different their worlds were.
“Thanks, Liam,” Sam grumbled venomously.
Brody laughed, his blond hair shaking as he held his stomach. “Poor Pan! Found himself a cherry, and he hasn’t got a prayer.”
“I told you to leave her alone, Brody!”
Alec saw the potential for escalation and intervened. “Knock it off, guys. We’ve still got a while till we get home. Let’s try to make it back without bloodshed, for once.”
“Was it supposed to be a secret? I mean, it’s right there on your phone, Sam. Since when did you stop bragging about that?” Liam looked over at Blue, light dawning in his eyes. “Oh. Sorry. I
was just trying to answer her question. You can ask me anything, kitten. Even if Sam’s too embarrassed to tell you the truth, I will.”
“Alright,” Blue had said, challenging his offer. Brody’s teasing and Liam’s reveal loosened her tongue. “Why do you call me kitten?”
“Because you’re small and cute, but you’re feisty, too. Like a wee kitten.”
“Bloody tiger when she’s mad,” Alec amended.
Liam rifled through his papers. “If you don’t like kitten, I could always call you by your real name. Idahlia Jane Anders?” He grinned like a naughty boy who wanted to be in trouble.
Blue’s muscles tightened, and her mouth projected the scowl that hearing her name always evoked. “My name’s Blue,” she had corrected him, though she knew he would call her whatever he pleased. Prince Liam was used to getting away with anything he wanted, due to his status, good looks and adorable smile.
“Why don’t you like your name?” Liam asked her kindly. “Very proper.”
Blue had known that Sam was watching her. Her answer came out fast. She’d been storing up her disgruntled feelings about the subject for years. “Because it’s not mine. Names are randomly assigned in The Way. Someone just picked the next name on the sheet, and that’s that. Jane isn’t even a name.”
“Jane is so a name,” Liam countered.
“No, it’s not,” she had argued – a thing she never would have done with a Vemreaux a week ago. “Every girl who’s nineteen this year has the middle name Jane. It tells the professors what age I am. Grettel and Elle have the same middle name. It’s Louise, because they were born a year ahead of me. So I go by a name that’s mine, not theirs.”
This new bit of information had puzzled the men. Though Europe housed The Way East, they had rarely been inside the facility, and did not know much about its operations. So it was with most Vemreaux. Sam touched the side of his shoe to hers. “So, when is your birthday?” Sam attempted to steer the conversation in a more positive direction.
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