Broken (24 page)

"There will be no happiness for me Camille, ever again. There can be for you though, and I
will
make sure that happens."

"Can there?" she asked tremulously.

"One day, yes. For you."

"You're not completely dead inside yet Atticus, you wouldn't be talking to me now if you were."

"And that is why you must be as far from me as possible. I'll make sure that you're taken care of and that you stay safe, but I never want to see you again."

She closed her eyes and bowed her head. "I understand. But how do you plan to marry the woman when you can't even stand to be touched by another anymore?"

Atticus shuddered at the thought of having to lie with Anna, his stomach turned over but then his fingers slid over the gold band on his finger and he spoke the simple truth. "I can do anything for her."

Camille's gaze was unwavering upon him. "Yes, you can."

The front door burst open with a loud bang that drove them both to their feet. "Atticus!" Merle bellowed.

"Not a word," he whispered to Camille.

Camille nodded as Merle appeared in the doorway. Merle's eyes were frantic as they flew back and forth between the two of them. "You're here and you're uninjured!" he blurted and his shoulders slumped. "There was a raid on the village." He was speaking as he walked toward them but he stopped when he spotted Atticus's wet and ruined clothing and Camille's tear streaked face and soot covered clothes. His mouth opened and closed, his eyes shot around the room as a strange look flickered over his face. "Where's Genny?"

Atticus's fingers played over the ribbon in his pocket while he stared at his cousin. He realized he hadn't been wrong; he would step over Merle's body to get what he hungered for. The friendship and love he had felt for him just hours ago seemed to have turned to ash as effectively as his father's manor had.

"Dead," he replied flatly.

Merle's eyes shot to him, he took an abrupt step forward and then another. "Atticus," he breathed. "What happened?"

"The humans raided the village, we were caught in the crossfire," Camille answered when he kept his mouth firmly closed. He couldn't begin to explain what had happened today.

Merle's hand clasped hold of his arm, there were actually tears in his eyes. Atticus forced himself to meet and hold his gaze and to keep the disgust slithering through him from Merle's touch hidden. To keep the hatred and madness securely locked away. "I'm so sorry, I know how much you loved her; what can I do? What do you
need
me to do?" he inquired fervently.

Atticus squeezed his wrist and stepped away from him. Relief filled him when Merle's touch finally fell away. "There is much that we must do," he answered. "Number one is getting out of England as soon as we can."

"My ship is ready to go. We'll get your father and mine and leave shortly."

"Yes," Atticus agreed, unwilling to reveal that his father was already dead. They would all discover it soon enough. He turned toward Camille. "I'll have my ship readied to take you wherever you wish to go."

Camille nodded and hugged Genny's blanket to her chest before slumping into the chair again.

"I'd like to keep those."

Camille looked up from where she sat amongst the parchments of Genny's writing to focus on him. "I can't even read them," she said with an abashed smile. "Genny offered to teach me but it seemed so useless to me. I wish I hadn't been so stubborn now. I just wanted to touch them now, to see if I could feel her presence here, amongst her writings."

Atticus stared at all of the parchments surrounding her; all he wanted was to touch them too. There was still a piece of Genny there, in those words, he was certain of it. Camille gathered everything carefully and placed them back into the false bottom of the trunk.

"Have you packed?" he inquired.

"Yes."

"Do you know where you would like to go?"

She shook her head as she carefully returned the dresses to the trunk and closed the lid. "Perhaps Greece. Genny always spoke of France because Marie would never go there, but I'd prefer not to be there right now."

"You will enjoy Greece."

"And you, where will you go?"

"I will be returning to Italy with Merle and my Uncle Nyles. That is where The Council has decided to call an emergency meeting. All vampires are to be out of England by the end of the month."

"I see." She rose and settled herself on the lid of the trunk. "Will they not question you sending me away on your ship?"

"Only Merle knows what Genny looked like. My uncle will assume I am only securing safe passage for my mistress or ex-mistress so that she may start her new life. It is not so uncommon, especially with my upcoming wedding looming, that we would go our separate ways right about now." Camille folded her hands before her and bowed her head. "Are you not taking any of her clothes with you?"

"If I may?"

"Take whatever you want," he said as he ran his fingers over the ribbons in his pocket. He'd never thrown away her old ribbon and had retrieved it from the manor before burning it down. "We leave for the docks in an hour."

***

Atticus placed the trunk down in the room that was normally his, but would be Camille's for her journey. Unlike most other ships, his and Merle's had rooms for them to sleep in. After their time spent amongst the Viking vampires, Merle had set about to design his own ship and had come up with a design that no one was using yet. Not only did the ships have sleeping quarters but they were also fast and wind powered.

Atticus turned to face Camille. She'd been so stoic, so driven by anger throughout the past week that he'd forgotten how young she was. He was reminded now as she stood in the doorway, pale and immobile, and looking immeasurably frightened by the looming unknown of her future. She hugged Genny's blanket to her chest as she gazed around the sparse room.

"I've never been alone before," she whispered and looked toward him.

"You'll be fine; you're stronger than you think."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I do. Plus I've hired trustworthy men and women to watch out for you. They'll make sure you get to where you're going safely and they'll keep you protected once you get there. I've placed money and jewels in your trunk. There should be more than enough to get you established somewhere and keep you comfortable for a few hundred years. You'll never have to live like Marie did."

"You didn't have to… I'll never be able to repay you."

"I'll never ask you to," he assured her. "If something should happen, and you ever require my help, please contact me. Do
not
come to see me."

"I won't," she promised though her lower lip began to tremble.

For a second there was a crack in him, for a second he felt the tears well up within him again as compassion reared to life. "I'm sorry it has to be this way."

She lifted her eyes to his and smiled at him. "I know you are. I know that both of us would have traded our lives for hers, but she never would have given either of us that choice."

"No, she wouldn't have." Closing his eyes, he forced himself to mend the crack in his wall and stay strong.

"No matter what happens from here on out, no matter what you have to do, just know that she loved you
so
much. She was never happier than these past few months with you. Genny never knew love from anyone other than me and she never knew security in her life. You gave her both of those things, you gave her dreams she'd never imagined to have and the promise of a life that she wanted so badly. Always remember that she died having known love and peace and the reason for that is
you
."

He opened his eyes to stare at her as she hovered in the doorway. Without thinking he strode forward and wrapped his arms around her. Though the feel of her against him sickened him, he pulled her firmly against his chest and pressed a kiss to her head. "I will," he vowed. She had just slid her arms around his waist when he abruptly released her. "As long as you remember how much she loved you too."

"I could never forget," she promised. "Her love is the only reason I'm still standing here. You don't have to do this; you can still change your mind."

"I thought you wanted revenge too."

A single tear slid down her face. "I want my sister back but that can never be. Some of my rage has faded a little and I realize now that with time, the hatred will fade too. When that day comes I don't want you to look back and wish things had been different."

"I won't," he vowed.

"Atticus…"

"I have chosen my path Camille; I will never look back with regret.
You
will be able to move on with time but for me it is too late. The only thing for me to move on to is death and I will gladly accept that death once Genny has been avenged."

A sob escaped her; she grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed it before releasing it just as quickly. She was the only one that had realized just how much he despised being touched now. "You will
always
be my brother."

"You are the only sister I've ever had, or ever will, no matter what else you hear," he told her honestly. "Stay safe Camille."

"You also Atticus."

Unwilling to touch her again, he slid past her and out the doorway. He hurried down the narrow hallway, up the stairs, and across the deck. Exiting the ship, his boots rang across the wooden dock as he walked to Merle's waiting ship. When Camille arrived at her destination, his ship would return to him in Italy, but until then it was hers to use as she saw fit.

Striding across the plank, he stepped off of it and onto the deck of Merle's ship. He finally turned to watch his ship pull away from the dock. The wind ruffled his hair, the seagulls screamed above him as he stood and watched the last little piece of his humanity sail away. The emptiness within him felt all-consuming when he turned away from watching the ship sail into the horizon.

His uncle Nyles stepped off of the plank and onto the deck of Merle's ship. Fine lines of anger were still etched around his pinched mouth and furrowed brows. He'd been in a frenzy when it was discovered that his brother had also been killed in the raid by the humans.

Atticus smiled inwardly as he recalled the look in his father's eyes before he had tossed the torch onto the rushes. Outwardly, he continued to display the appropriate amount of rage and grief that would have been expected of him over his father's murder. He simply had to think of Genny in order to do so.

"Driven from our homes by humans," his uncle muttered and straightened his tunic.

"It seems to be the way of things," Atticus murmured. "They have a fair amount of control over us."

"Too much," his uncle's eyes glimmered as they met Atticus's gaze. "
Far
too much."

Atticus debated pushing it further but he bit his tongue, sowing the seeds of discontent would take time. To push it now, and too forcefully, could alienate those he needed on his side and cause suspicion to fall on his ultimate agenda.

"We should do something about that," his uncle continued as the ropes mooring the ship to the dock were tossed onto the deck.

Atticus fought back a smile. He turned away and strode down the steps to the hall below. Merle was heading for the stairs just as he descended. "I disposed of all the blood we had stored onboard," Merle said in a low voice when he reached him. "I didn't want to take the chance that my father would find it. There's no reason for him to know what we had planned."

Atticus's teeth clenched at the reminder of the completely different journey this was supposed to have been. "You're right."

He could feel Merle's eyes burning into his back as he walked down the hall to the small room he'd been assigned while on board. Closing the door, he threw the locks into place and leaned against it. His gaze fell on the small wooden trunk in the corner; he took a few minutes to steady himself before walking over and pulling it away from the wall. He hadn't dared open it until now.

Though he tried to control them, his hands were trembling as he lifted the lid. The scent of Genny assailed him immediately. He almost slammed the lid closed again but the scent of asters and the memories contained within this box ensnared him. That's all they were though, memories, and it's all it was, a box.

He gently pulled out the clothing still tucked within, Camille had taken some things but she'd left a few behind for him. With extreme care, he removed the thick bundle of parchment tucked within the bottom of the trunk. Leaning his back against the wall, he drew his legs up and propped the documents on his knees. His fingers traced over the small, neat handwriting so lovingly inscribed upon the pages before him. The date on the first one was from ten years ago, she would have been only twelve years old.

He immersed himself in her words, smiling sometimes, becoming angry at others, as he experienced the ups, downs, and plans of her life. She'd written nearly every day for the past ten years, sometimes just a sentence or two and sometimes detailed paragraphs of what she'd experienced.

Then she had discovered him and though there was still some unhappiness within those pages, there was so much love and laughter that for the first time since the night he'd found her lifeless body, he felt tears streaking down his face again. This was her last gift to him, one that he could revisit often. One that would serve as a reminder of the woman he'd loved and lost, and would allow him to experience the love she'd had for him over and over again through her eyes.

When he was done reading, he wanted to hug the parchments against his chest but it was far too precious to him to risk harming it in some way. Placing them carefully back in the chest, he removed the blank parchment, ink, and quill tucked inside before settling the bottom back into place and returning the clothing. Slipping her ribbons from his pocket, he ran his fingers over them one more time and inhaled her sweet scent before placing them on top of the tunics. If he continued to keep them with him, they would only get ruined and that was something he refused to have happen.

Now that he was alone, he slipped the gold band from the pocket inside his tunic and slid it onto his finger where it belonged. His uncle could never know about it though, or anyone else outside of himself, Merle, and Camille, but he would keep the ring with him whenever he could. Rising to his feet, he walked over to the small table in the corner and placed the writing materials on top of it. Settling into the chair, he stared at the blank parchment before him for a few minutes before leaning forward and beginning to write…

September 1, 1050

My dearest Genny,

I said goodbye to Camille today. I suspect you would have preferred for us to stay together, to heal together, but there is no healing for me and it would be best for her if she wasn't around me. You see, I'm not me anymore…