Flawless//Broken (10 page)

Darius stands so fast I don’t even have time to blink. He backs me up against the grand piano, the smooth wood digging into my spine. His cedar and ash smell is everywhere, his eyes burning into me. My body starts shaking - he’s a homunculus. He could and would kill me, if he wanted to. He’d eat me, consume every last drop of me. And a sick part of me wants him to. A sick part of me wants to be one with him, to be his wholly and completely.

“You’ll never be truly safe,” He hisses. “Even with a weapon. We’ve lost Azoth to them with much more protection than you’ve had. Lake is good, one of the best, and that’s the only reason I asked him to protect you. You need Reapers, not a weapon.”

“I need to protect myself,” I force the words out, setting my jaw defiantly. “Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that no one else is going to do it for me. In the end, you’re always alone, protecting yourself.”

***

I would protect her. I ache to. Her Azoth calls to me like a siren, promising warmth and fullness and satisfaction. Safety. Rest. Rest like I haven’t had in centuries. I would do anything for her, if she asked it. Anything for just a drop of her sweet, golden Azoth.

My body moves before my mind does - I lean in and stroke her alabaster neck with my lips, velvet meeting velvet. The hunger demands a taste of her. My teeth scrape her skin, and I feel a shiver run through her. It jolts me awake, weakens the hold her Azoth has on me just barely. But that’s enough for me to snap back into focus, to pull away and realize what I’m doing is both weak and stupid. I almost caved in. I almost relinquished control to the hunger, after three hundred years of managing to never do that exact thing. I promised Amelie. I promised the rebels from so long ago. I promised George, and Clara, and Zhen. I promised the Reapers, and Reeves, and Avalanche. I promised
myself
.

I am stronger than this. I am steel. I am unbreakable. I have to be. If I break, I’ll never get the chance to fix my mistake.

Her ocean-gray eyes are shocked, an edge of terror in them. Regret festers in my throat. I make room between us as quickly as possible, and put on my coldest business meeting voice, though my body trembles with an inferno of desire.

“You will return to your apartment. Lake will guard you closely on a 24/7 watch, until the Sage Council contacts me about a showing.”

“S-Showing?” She finds her voice.

“A gathering of alchemists. A party for them, of sorts, in which the Sage Council introduces newly discovered Azoths and demonstrates how strong their Azoth is. The alchemists begin to negotiate with the Sage Council, and after a week or so of such negotiations, the Azoths are taken to their new homes.”

“Jesus, it’s basically a cattle auction.”

I smirk. “With a few more fancy dresses and cocktail shrimp, yes.”

“What about my weapon?”

I watch her eyes, determined and fiery, and then her scar, a chilling reminder how close we came to losing her before. It’s a miracle she’s here. She’s the miracle, the sign, I’ve been waiting for. I came so close to losing her, and I didn’t even know it. Her Azoth calls ever louder - her request for a weapon to defend herself with compelling me. Just the thought of being of use to her, of being able to fulfill her wish, floods me with an aching, unprecedented satisfaction.

“You’ll have it. I have enough of your blood to craft with.”

Reeves comes in and announces the car is ready for her. I see her lips open to protest.

“No bus,” I say. “It’s too easy to stage a kidnapping on public transport, even with Lake around.”

Her defiance flares, but dies down to a small ember. She stands and leaves, petting Avalanche one last time. At the doorway she freezes, and turns to look back at me with something like regret in her eyes.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what I said about Amelie,” She says. “If you kept her ring for this long, well - she must’ve been really important to you. I’m sorry for being cruel.”

The door opens and closes, and leaves me in a chilly silence. Lake undoubtedly told her more about me than was right. But she knows, now. She knows a bare sliver of my past.

It’s more than anyone has seen for a very long time.

PART EIGHT

EIGHT

Chapter 8

EIGHT

Ellie is hysterical when I finally walk in the door. She flings herself at me, sobbing into my shirt. Two cops peek their heads from our tiny living room into the hall and all but roll their eyes. It takes a good half-hour to calm Ellie down enough so she isn’t hyperventilating. She cries so much she passes out on the couch, and I cover her with a blanket and see the cops out.

“Sorry about all this,” I say.

“It’s alright, we get it all the time.” One youngish, curly-haired cop smiles. “Miscommunication is the cause of a helluva lotta missing persons reports. But it’s always good to follow up, just in case.”

I grin, but my eyes take in their every badge and gun. His partner is a burly woman with bright gold hair and a frown that’d rival any German schoolmistress. The homunculus that attacked Ellie and I at the club said the police were ‘owned’ by their ‘master’. I guess he meant the Mutus. If the Mutus are high up on the power structure, then it’s no wonder Darius was so worried about my safety. They could get to me any number of ways.

The cops leave, and I wait until they’re gone to speak into the quiet apartment.

“Quit playing hide and seek, Lake.”

Lake, fiery hair and emerald eyes sparking, steps out from the shadow of Ellie’s bedroom door.

“Nice place you got here.” He spots Ellie asleep on the couch and whistles. “I take that back - it’s a
really
nice place.”

“No touching,” I bark, and go into the kitchen. “Do you need food, or what?”

Lake laughs. “Naw. I got ways of feeding myself.”

I quirk a brow at him, and he scoffs.

“No, not Azoth. I’m not a Munkie.”

“For all I know you could be. Darius is a homunculus who’s an alchemist. A homunculus as a Reaper doesn’t seem too far-fetched.”

“I told you, he’s special.”

“Tell me about it,” I grumble, remembering every time his golden eyes burned into me over the past two days, charring me from the inside out. The memory of his teeth against my neck makes me shudder all over again. Lake pokes at our beat-up toaster with great interest, and I swat his hand away. He resigns himself to the armchair and watching Ellie.

“Does she usually cry herself to sleep like this?” He asks.

“She stayed up all night waiting for me, for two nights in a row,” I sigh. “She’s really dedicated to her friends. I feel shitty for making her worry so much.”

Lake observes her carefully. I take my toast and scrambled eggs into my room just as Lake speaks.

“I don’t remember what it’s like to be normal,” He says. “I mean, I remember events and stuff, like my birthdays with my family, and the first girl I kissed. But I don’t remember the feeling. You know, of living life without knowing there’s shit out there that could kill you at any time. Without knowing there’s alchemy. Just being…
normal
.”

“I won’t notice much difference,” I say. He cocks his head.

“Why?”

“In my world, there was always someone who wanted to kill me,” I try to make my words light, even though they’re the darkest.

I close the door to my room. The streetlamps outside are too bright. An orange tabby cat sits on the neighbor’s balcony and stares at me with luminous green eyes. I eat and sleep, and dream fitfully.

***

Dad didn’t like seeing me with boys.

Dad didn’t like seeing me, period.

I guess I reminded him of Mom - always talking back, refusing to clean his underwear and boots. Towards the end I stopped cooking for him - I begged Mrs. Lambert into letting me store some food in her home ec class, and cook it during lunch break. She was the only teacher who suspected what was going on - she offered to call child services once, but I refused. I knew it would only make Dad madder. Scarier. She was the one who wrote my recommendation letter to UW, the one who helped me with my financial aid forms. Desperation made me do funny things - like trust her. An adult. I knew they couldn’t be trusted, but I fell for it anyway, because I wanted to leave so badly.

And then she betrayed my trust. She fucked it all up.

She told Dad I got into the University.

I couldn’t walk right for a week. Even now, my left ear sometimes stops working. My nose will never be straight again.

I thought I was going to die that night on the dirty trailer floor, covered in blood and bruises. But Dad’s fury had an upside - it never lasted long. He always got tired and stormed out to the bar to drown the rest of his anger in whiskey.

I ditched school for a week so nobody would see the bruises and start getting nosy. Ellie worried, but she knew what it meant when I disappeared, and let me be. I spent my days studying my textbooks in the local park, mostly, ducking into bathrooms whenever the police drove by. It only took me two times of being detained for truancy and dropped off at school to figure out how to avoid them.

But there was a good side to it all.

I met Josh at the park.

He was eating an ice cream on a bench. I was sitting in the grass studying for my Chem final. We were across from each other, his bright blue eyes glancing over mine, brown hair tousled by the wind. He had kind eyes is what I remember most. My face was covered in bruises, so I tried to hide in my hair. It didn’t work. He walked over after a half-hour and sat beside me.

“Don’t stick around,” He said, voice like an electric guitar - tangy and rich.

“What?” I whispered.

“Whoever did that to you,” He said finally. “Don’t stick around them.”

I would’ve told him to fuck off, if he wasn’t so cute. People liked giving me advice for some reason. But he had good reason to.

We talked for along time - until the sun started setting - about stupid shit. And not-stupid shit. Grades, parents, bands, death, life, happiness. I forgot I was hungry, or thirsty. I got lost in his eyes, as corny as that sounds. I was lost. I could barley find myself in our conversation anymore - it was ours. Together. We’d finish each others’ sentences and thoughts. I couldn’t tell where he began and I ended.

I went to the park every day that week, and every day Josh was there, smiling with an ice cream cone. He bought two, this time. And the time after that. We sat and talked and ate ice cream, and I realized I was falling in love when he told me his brother had committed suicide after being in an abusive relationship, and I told him about Dad. I didn’t want to be in love. The first time we kissed I told Josh I wasn’t safe - nothing about me was safe. He asked if I was afraid. I said I was afraid constantly, all the time, ever since I could remember. He was the only male kindness I’d had in my life up till that point, and I clung to him like a well in a desert.

He was twenty-two. I was seventeen.

In retrospect, I know better, now. I know men like young things, sometimes disturbingly so. But I’d been so sure. I’d been
so sure
that Josh really cared about me.

He stopped coming to the park, after our first night together. Didn’t call, didn’t text, didn’t even facebook friend me. He just disappeared. He used me and abandoned me, just like Mom.

It was juvenile, what I did to get back at him. What I thought was revenge on him was really just punishment to myself - I left for University later that year. I was nursing a broken heart, and a broken body. Ellie sneaked me off, bought me the plane ticket, drove me to the airport in the dark. Student loans and my diligent studying got me enough scholarships to take care of the rest. By the time Dad realized I was gone for good, I was already settled in my Freshmen year, getting high and drunk and screwing everything with a decent set of abs. I became shallow. Vain. I forced everything dark and horrible into a deep crevice in my heart, keeping the lid tight with blackout partying and bitchy gossip. I was not a nice person. I became a horrible person, all the while thinking it was my revenge on Josh. On Dad. On Mom. I’d be happy, I convinced myself. I’d have fun, even if they tried to make me miserable.

But no matter how hard I tried, the misery festered in that crevice, waiting for the right time to strike.

***

I’m woken up by the sound of my phone vibrating, informing me someone has just deposited money into my bank account.

I rub sleep gunk out of my eyes and squint suspiciously at the screen as I log in. Who the hell is paying me? I’m used to it being the other way around - my student loans rob me of what little doesn’t go towards rent or food. I’m always paying someone. But now -

My eyes find the amount and widen to unholy proportions. One thousand eight hundred dollars. One thousand. Eight. Hundred. Dollars. That’s an entire month of rent and then some. Who gave this to me and why? I find the transferee name; Silveria Enterprises. It’s totally unfamiliar to me. I’m not gonna spend it, just in case it’s a mistake. It has to be.

I resolve to call the bank later with a sinking stomach, and haul myself out of bed, only to come face-to-face with Lake.

“Ahhh! Wh-What are you - what are you doing in here? This is my room!”

“Good morning, princess,” He salutes, and tears open my curtains. He takes out a tiny brass beetle and puts it on the window sill.

“What the hell is that?”

“A security system,” Lake says cheerily, planting another in the other window. “Made of prima materia by our very talented Reaper alchemists. I’ve put one in every window and doorway. They’ll let you know if anything alchemized gets in the house - that includes homunculi. And I’ll know,” He holds up his hand, where a ring with an identical metal beetle on it sits on his finger. “If anything comes in, no matter how far away I am. Not like I’m going far, but. It’s always good to have a backup system.”