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Authors: Jade M. Phillips

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Pandora turned to leave me, snapping me back to reality. Without
thinking, and knowing I had to act fast, I called out to her. “Thank you,
Nora.”

Pandora froze with her back to me and I wondered if she’d
caught on. I hoped she understood the code word and didn’t just think I’d accidentally
called her the wrong name. I nervously glanced at the surrounding faces to see
if they noticed my ‘slip-up.’ But they murmured idly, exchanging stacks of
paper, unaware.

I looked back to Pandora. Whatever shift I thought I’d seen
in her stature before was now gone. She gracefully made her way to the corner
of the room as if I hadn’t said a word. My heart dropped into my stomach,
thinking that maybe she didn’t understand what I was trying to tell her. Or
maybe Wilson gave me the wrong code word. Regardless, she sat down in an old
wooden chair and nonchalantly crossed one leg over the other, not giving me the
time of day. I resisted the urge to sigh with frustration and played with the
hem of my shirt instead.

Looking at my clothes, I reasoned that I was in desperate
need of a shower, still wearing the long-sleeved pink T-shirt and blue jeans
Guy had bought me when I was training at Wilson’s ranch house. I wished I was
still there instead of in my current predicament, but the house had been
destroyed in an explosion during our escape. My insides ached at the death of
Wilson, but even more so for my savior. No matter how hard I tried I could not
keep Guy Stone from my mind. I wondered where he was and if he was plagued by
the same sorrowful feelings as me.

“Let’s begin, shall we?” Horus said, snapping me back to the
gambling hall. He leaned back in his chair and glanced to the woman at his
side. She had gnarled grey hair and her long skirt jingled with charms when she
shifted in her seat. She wore a peasant-style shirt layered with a dingy brown
cloak. She was not a vampire and looked older than the others in the room. A
witch maybe? The grey-haired woman nodded and spoke in a low, gravelly voice.

“My name is Morin, the legion leader for the witches,” she
said, confirming my suspicions. She then gestured past Horus to a man on the
end whose long brown hair was tied into a tail running down his back. “And this
is Jax, the Werewolf leader.”

Jax nodded, but with a scowl on his face, pointing to the
fact he was less than amused by my presence. He was large and burly and I could
tell he was just as pleased to be there as I was. His darkly tanned skin
complimented his golden eyes and dark hair. He looked Native American or
Mexican, or possibly a mixture of both.

“And I assume you have already met Horus?” The witch asked
me.

I nodded confidently, betraying my trembling fear. Horus
furrowed his brows and I was just glad he was far enough away I couldn’t smell
his breath.

“Yes, we’ve met,” I added. I’d learned all too quickly that Horus
was not fond of silent answers. And though the urge to punch him in his smug
face was eating at my insides, I knew this was not the time to be snarky or
uncooperative. This was the time to do as much brown-nosing as possible, and
hopefully buy myself some more time to stay alive.

“Let the trial begin,” Horus said. His dark gaze bored into
me with the intensity of death itself. “For this night, Ruby Carter, you will
learn your fate. Whether it be life within the walls of Tombstone as a
contributing vampire, or the permanent death by means of hanging and sun.”

My swallowed hard as I thought about frying like an egg in
the sun with a rope tied around my neck— in my opinion, not the ideal way to
celebrate a going-away party. My gaze slid to Pandora, begging her to give me
just one hint that she understood what
Nora
meant, a hint that I was not
as alone as I felt. But she picked at her nails as though this were the least
exciting thing that happened all week, her expression holding no sign of care
or urgency whatsoever. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Wilson had been
wrong about her after all, and if my entire journey thus far had been for
nothing. But most of all, I wondered if these hours that I stood before the
legion, would, in fact, be my last.

 

 

SEVEN: GUY

 

I shifted my body on the splintery bench and stretched out against
the rough brick wall of my cell. My stomach growled and I found myself thinking
I’d give anything for a cheeseburger at the moment. Yet, apparently the only
thing on the menu for prisoners was a cup of chicken broth followed by a course
of swift-kick-to-the-head for dessert. I groaned, my sore muscles aching from
being kept in the same place for so long. My cracked lips stung from sweat, my
ankles chafed from the chains, and dried blood crusted my face. Even the
werewolf guard outside of my cell— the one with bad hygiene and an overactive
salivary gland, couldn’t compare to the unsightly mess I’d become.

After being fed a bit of soup from Cloe and finally regaining
some of my strength, I expected the vampire leader to return at any moment with
his female lackey and torture me like they had the night before. But countless hours
of solitude passed and no one showed, the darkness and dank smell of werewolf
body odor being my only companion. I wondered why they hadn’t come, but
reasoned it was one of their tactics to make me break, keep me on edge, and
more importantly, keep me alive— or at least for the time being that is. In all
honesty, I couldn’t blame them. It’s what I would do if I had a prisoner I
needed information from.

Unfortunately, exhaustion pulled at me like a vice grip and I
felt I could lay down and sleep for days on end. But as soon as my heavy lids
began to close, I forced them back open, determined —when physically able— to
make use of my time in between the beatings.

I studied my surroundings and made a mental list of
information. From what I gathered, the roof was thin and ready to burst from the
stain in the ceiling and there was a second floor above. I pondered how I might
bust through that ceiling, but it was at least twelve feet high and I was, for
all intents and purposes, chained to the wall— which would make any escape
attempt rather difficult. I sighed, thinking that other than the flimsy roof, there
was only one way in and out of my cell— the large metal sliding bars that were
perpetually locked. One good thing, if you could call it that, was there was only
one werewolf guard stationed outside. He would trade shifts with another guard
twice a day, just after sundown and right before sunrise.

And only one person had the key to unlock my cell; Cloe, the
young female vampire with the small nose and brown hair. She would bring me my
food and water once a night, and for some reason she was trusted to do so amongst
the vampires. I couldn’t help but notice how young she was, indicating that she
hadn’t fully lost her sense of humanity— a small shadow of hope if nothing
else. Plus, Cloe had made the mistake of naming the vampire leader Horus.
Though meager in the grand scheme of things, I now had a one-up on my captor. I’d
take anything I could get.

Aside from gathering pertinent information, I’d been trying
to connect with Ruby while within my cell. She couldn’t sense me because she’d
never drank my blood, but it felt as though she sat right there with me. At
times, her fear radiated so thick it made my insides burn with frustration and
anger. I wanted to smash my chains against the brick wall and shatter them. I
wanted to go to her.

Also through my bond, I could feel she was close, possibly
in the same town if my guess was right, and I sensed she was not being welcomed
with ease. Something was wrong and I couldn’t ignore it. The next time I saw
Horus my first instinct would be to demand information on Ruby. I wanted to
know she was safe and being treated properly. But the only thing I could do to
keep her safe was to keep her secret. I could not let them know about us, how I
cared for her, and what’s more, the fact that we even knew each other in the
first place. If that happened, we’d both be dead by sunrise. I figured I would
likely die in this place anyhow, and I would do so bravely, keeping the safety
of my love locked up deep within me.

I also couldn’t help but think of the vow I’d given to Ruby,
and how I was supposed to have gone back to headquarters to help her father
escape, or in the least, encourage him to be an associate. But now after so
long, I wasn’t sure he’d even be alive anymore, the thought crushing me because
I knew it would crush Ruby too. I just had to cling to the hope that Frank
would change his mind and agree to be an associate, therefore ensuring he kept
his life. I shook my head from the thought, knowing there was nothing I could
do about it now.

All I could do was ensure that I protect Ruby, the only
light in my life. I hoped she’d have an effect on the other Unfortunates and
that her innocence and purity would shine through. I hoped she’d help them to
see the error of their ways. But in all honesty, it was an unlikely
possibility.

A more likely scenario was she would be swayed by their
ways, losing all of her humanity in time. She would grow more fearsome and her
hunger insatiable. She would eventually lose the color in her eyes and the
pureness in her heart.

That’s what happened to most vampires.

But I wouldn’t allow myself to believe Faith would be that
way. I couldn’t believe that she’d ever be fully pulled into the darkness. Her
will remained stronger than any I’d seen, and her ambition and courage was
undeniable. Her caring and loving soul was raw and pure.

She was different and that was what I loved about her. My
heart ached to be with her, to comfort her and hold her head against my chest. I
needed to be strong for not only myself, and not let Wilson’s death be in vain,
but I needed to be strong for Ruby. It was her life I held in the palm of my
hand and I’d never forgive myself if I were the cause of her demise.

“Captain Stone?” A soft voice called to me from the darkness,
emerging me from my reverie.

I pulled the scratchy blanket over my lap.

The image of Cloe came before the metal bars, with a soft
glow of candlelight. She unlocked the cell door and slipped inside with a
wooden tray in one hand.

“I have more soup for you. And water.”

“Thank you.” I managed to keep my manners at the forefront
with Cloe. There might be something she could provide me with and I needed to
form a friendship with her.

“You look better today,” she whispered.

Cloe knelt down and sat the tray on the bench next to me. My
eyes lowered to her lips and a gash slicing right through the meat of them, swollen
and bloody. I furrowed my brows in confusion. Vampire’s bodies were wired to
heal themselves, especially with such small flesh wounds.

“What happened?” I asked instinctively. “Are you all right?”

If at all possible, Cloe’s face turned even whiter than it
already was. It was obvious she was shaken by my question, but her expression
quickly dismissed it. She didn’t answer.

“Why haven’t you healed yourself?” I asked, ignoring the
food on the plate next to me. Famine gnawed at my insides, but any
communication I could get was more important than eating. A connection to this
vampire might result in more information.

Cloe stood abruptly and brushed the dust from her skirt with
her hands. “I… I shouldn’t talk to you.”

“Is this what will happen to you if you talk to me?” I
asked, gesturing to her mouth with my chin.

Cloe averted her gaze but didn’t disagree with my
assumption.

“Were you given a suppressant?”

In my life-long dedication to FUSE, I’d studied every aspect
of vampires. I knew there was a certain drug that could be given to them to
prevent their healing because we’d regularly use it when holding prisoners. And
in her current state, I was positive Cloe had been given that drug. Again, she
did not answer my question, instead taking the blanket from my lap and
replacing it with a new, clean one.

“Who did this to you?” I prodded.

Again, no answer.

“Was it Horus?”

Cloe’s eyes shot to mine. She spoke in a forced whisper. “You
mustn’t say a word. He’ll do worse to me if he knows I’ve spoken to you.”

“You don’t have to live like this,” I explained as gently as
possible. “You can leave this place. I can help you.” Contemplation marred her face
and she looked as though she let my words roll around in her head. I took
advantage and continued.

“I’m sure there are others here who feel the same way as
you. Others who want to escape.”

The young vampire’s face changed immediately, hard lines
creasing her brow. “No. This is my home, and you are sorely mistaken if you
think I’d ever want to leave.” She stuffed my old blanket under her arm and
turned away. “Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Have faith,” I said, and she hesitated. “Have faith you can
be happy one day. I can see in your eyes you are still young and haven’t fully
lost your compassion. Your humanity.”

Cloe gave me one last glance before closing the bars with a
clang. I was certain our conversation was over until she spoke softly from the
other side. And the words that came from the vampire’s mouth were not from a
place of threat, but one of concern and warning. “Rest up, Captain Stone. You
have yet to endure the worst.”

 

 

EIGHT: RUBY

 

My hands trembled in fear as I stood in front of the legion,
my pulse racing like a pack of wild horses. I felt like I was on some twisted
reality show, standing in front of a panel of judges, and if I didn’t sing the
right tune, a loud buzzer and a big red X would interrupt my song. But this
wasn’t a show or singing competition. This was my life, and my fate lie solely
in their hands.

The interrogation went on for what seemed like an eternity.
They asked the same questions over and over, but in different ways with
different wording. And my only hope of survival —the red-headed vampire named
Pandora— could care less of the situation. But I reasoned I’d done all I could
by giving her the code word
Nora
. Now I had to await my fate.

I was asked, yet again, another slew of questions, the small
gambling room in which I stood seemingly closing in on me. Sweat beaded my
forehead, yet I stuck firm to my story and answered diligently, though my
insides squirmed with uncertainty. My stomach flip-flopped inside of me,
starting to clench with pangs of hunger. I hadn’t eaten in days, weeks even, and
just when I thought my queasiness would get the better and I would lose the
contents of my stomach— which was nothing really— Horus spoke up.

“And one more time, please explain how you alone escaped the
ambush when all other vampires and witches were killed?”

Terror gripped my heart and I steadied my shaking hands by
grabbing the sides of my jeans. The faces of the legion— Jax, Morin, and Horus—
studied me, judging whether or not I should be deemed fit to live as one of
them or be burnt to a crispy critter by the sun. A smug grin formed on Horus’
face as though he was about to catch me in a lie, and I couldn’t help thinking
how much I despised him. I inhaled slowly and began.

“As I said before,” I paused for a moment for emphasis. “I
was in a ditch, I covered myself with dirt, and the soldiers left.”

“Why do I not smell any human blood on you?” Jax, the
werewolf leader asked, his nose in the air as if he were sniffing me. “Have you
not fed since you turned?”

“Gah!” Horus belted, bolting from his chair. He pointed
directly at me with his long, thin finger. “She has been fed! Cloe brought her
blood every night. See! I knew there was something off about her. She’s tricked
us and has not been drinking the blood.”

“Have you not been drinking the blood?” Jax chimed in, his
golden eyes locked on mine, and I couldn’t help but notice them glowing in the
dim lamp light.

“I have been drinking it,” I lied, thinking I might be
digging myself my own grave, but I was in too deep to turn back now.

Horus opened his mouth to more than likely argue, but Morin
placed a hand up and spoke first.

“Let’s suppose you have been drinking the blood as you say.
That still doesn’t explain how you survived since the Bisbee coven fell. Did
you find someone to feed from before coming here?”

“No.” I shook my head, thinking of the story Guy had made me
memorize. I was to stick firmly to it and not, at any cost, tell them I’d fed
from a vampire.

“Yes!” Horus agreed, talking directly to Morin. “Before her
arrival here, it had been about a week since the Bisbee coven fell when she was
allegedly turned. She could not have survived that long without any human
blood.”

The other members considered his words and murmured
accordingly. Horus sat down calmly, another ride on his bi-polar roller
coaster. He turned to me, taking a long pull from his cigarette and let the
smoke come out with his words. “Yes, baby vampire, tell us. How have you
survived so long without drinking from a human?”

I swallowed hard before answering, but kept my shoulders
straight. I would not let that beast intimidate me. “I found sanctuary in an
old mission. I lived off the blood of mice and rabbits.” I held my head up
high, trying my best to be confident, but the glares I was receiving made it rather
hard.

I glanced over at Pandora for the hundredth time, seeking
any sort of compassion or understanding. But Pandora was more interested in
picking her nail than she was in me. According to Horus she was only an Overseer
and had no involvement in the outcome of the proceedings. Of course, just
another thread to add to my string of bad luck.

“We’ve heard what you have to say,” Morin the witch spoke.
“Now we must convene to make the decision.”

“If the Patriarch were here he’d have killed her the minute
she arrived,” Horus scoffed.

 “You don’t know that,” Morin countered. “For all we know
her story is true and she is just as much a victim in the war with the humans
as we are.”

Yes
, I thought.
I am not your enemy
.  I
started warming up to the old witch. If Pandora wouldn’t help me, maybe she
would.

“I don’t trust her,” Horus announced as if we hadn’t already
been aware of that concept. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Morin ignored Horus’ comment and cleared her throat. “Well
then. If you feel we’ve all made up our minds on the matter then it comes down
to a vote.”

The back of my skull throbbed and my mind whirled, thinking
of the fact that my life hung on the decision of a death-breath vampire, an old
witch, and a big, gnarly werewolf. Unbelievable. I’d already died in my human
life and had, for some God-forsaken reason, been given a second chance by my
real father. And now to have it possibly taken away? It was complete emotional
torment, but I still clung to the shred of hope that I might have a chance. All
I needed was two out of three.

Morin cleared her throat again before speaking. “Everyone in
favor of the Newborn keeping her life and living amongst us in the city of
Tombstone, raise your hand.”

No sooner had I reasoned no one would vote for my life and
it was the end of me, the old witch smiled and raised her hand. I let out a
breath.

One more. I just needed one more.

Horus hated me and would vote in favor of my death— that was
certain— so I shifted my gaze to the werewolf, pleading silently. When his hand
did not rise, my heart sank deeper.

“All in favor of the Newborn being put to death, raise your
hand.”

Horus’ hand was up before the witch even finished speaking,
and shortly after came the werewolf’s hand. My breath caught in my chest as Horus
slammed his palms against the table and shot from his seat.

“Well that does it. She will be hung from the gallows
tomorrow night and await the rise of the sun.”

Tears welled in my eyes and my heart ached inside of me. It
wasn’t just the fact I was to be put to death that saddened me —I’d already
witnessed death and knew what it entailed— but the fact I would never see Guy
Stone’s face again or meet my father had me reeling.

 A drop of sweat ran between my shoulder blades as I thought
about being burnt away by the big ball of fire in the sky, and my chest heaved
with an unwanted sob. But before the pent-up cry left my mouth, Pandora stood
and spoke flatly.

“I object.”

The room fell deadly silent. Horus, who was nearly out the
door, stopped, frozen in place. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have said he
was a vampire statue. But after a few tension-filled moments, he swiveled
around, turning a fiery black gaze upon the red-head.

“What did you say?” His words came out like the warning hiss
of a rattlesnake, and I couldn’t help my hopeful heart from swelling in my
chest.

Pandora finished picking at her nail and dropped her hands
to her sides. Her emerald eyes glimmered as she looked upon Death Breath with
the impassivity akin to a carrot being dangled in front of a lion. She
shrugged.

“I object.”

“You can’t do that!” Horus barked, and his sharp tone caused
me to flinch. “This is not a court of law, and you are no lawyer!”

“Oh, yes I can,” Pandora replied slowly and calmly, never
once offering me a glance. “And I just did.”

I resisted the urge to laugh with joy, wanting to hug the
crap out of Pandora, but thought better of it. I stifled a grin by biting my
lip.

“You are in no position to—”

“I was granted the right of justice by the Patriarch,” she
cut in. “You all know this. If I see an unfit decision has been made out of
malice, I have the right to object. And that is exactly what I’m doing. I
object.”

Horus’ face twisted with blazing fury and his hands flung up
into the air. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Those rules were made a hundred
years ago and are outdated.”

To my surprise, Jax stood up and interjected. “She has a point,
Horus. I don’t like the Newborn any more than you, but the rules the Patriarch
has instilled stand firm to this day.”

Horus fisted his hands. “The Patriarch would change his mind
if he were here. This does not constitute an objection!”

Morin spoke up. “The Patriarch isn’t here and that is why we
must regard his rules with respect and heed what he has laid out for us. That
is how we have survived for so long.”

“Bullshit!” Horus seethed. “She is an imposter. She isn’t
like us, I know it.” He glared at the others in the room. “And you all know it.
There is something wrong with the baby vampire and you will regret this
Pandora.”

Pandora did not engage in Horus’ rage, but stood silently as
though witnessing a toddler’s tantrum.

“By the laws of the Patriarch,” the witch said, “I hereby
pronounce Ruby Carter acquitted of her charges. She will be on a period of
probation and we will reconvene at a later date to reassess the situation.”

“Fine.” Horus blustered. He shot every single Unfortunate in
the room a menacing and maniacal glare. “But when something goes wrong because
of her, don’t come crying to me. I am not okay with this decision.”

Before he stormed out of the room and, without warning,
Horus materialized before me, causing me to suck in a sharp breath. He was so
close, our noses nearly touched, and I winced, not wanting to smell his rank breath
yet again.

“I’ll be watching you, baby. And don’t think this ruling
changes anything. I will soon find out what you are and expose you for an
abomination. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but mark my words, you
will
meet your end.”

And with that, Horus departed the room in a flash, leaving
me panting, fear combined with utter relief.

“Don’t worry about him,” Pandora said, finally offering me
an almost imperceptible smile. “He has too many coffin splinters shoved up his
ass.”

I chuckled in spite of myself and let out a huge sigh, the
weight of the world lifting from my shoulders. Incredibly, I’d been saved from
permanent death. Twice now, really.

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