Constricted: Beyond the Brothel Walls (10 page)

I yawned, settling against his chest, and fingering the stone. “Yes, you should’ve.”

T
he sun glared through the window, and I blinked, squinting against the warm rays. “Good morning, angel.”

Had Petre stayed with me through the night? His clothes were the same dark jeans and simple pocket t-shirt. “Morning, but you’re the good part.” Cold fingers caressed my chin, tilting it up. My eyes widened, and I scrambled from the bed. His hands had caught me by the waist before I’d taken two steps.

“Where’s the fire?” he taunted, almost laughing. I squirmed, and he dropped his hands as I bee lined into the bathroom. Still quite human, I went about my usual routine of peeing and tooth brushing. After a quick glance in the mirror, I opened the door to find Petre smirking. “All better?” He crooked his finger, and I padded back into his arms. “Let’s get you some breakfast.”

We walked down the stairs, and I quizzed him more on vampires. I asked if his staff knew, and he said they did. He didn’t keep secrets from them, and I learned he actually paid them too. “Angel, the world we live in … how do I say this? … Uncle Jules lied to you and the other girls.”

My feet halted at the bottom step, and my mouth dropped open.
What did he mean?

Petre palmed the back of his neck. “Kor, damn it, prostitution isn’t legal until eighteen in the world. Both in Delphia and Garland.”

Not legal. Bile rose in my throat; my body rejected the words he’d spoken to me. Dizziness washed over me, and I leaned on Petre.
How could it not be legal?
Men came, paid money, chose a woman, and left. Most of the girls were eighteen, but some of us had been younger. I grew up there from the time I could remember until the day I left.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered. His arms surrounded me and pulled me to his chest. I hadn’t even noticed that my body trembled until I’d rattled the table. “What are you saying?”

“Jules touching you, making you do those things, none of that was legal. He’d face jail time if caught.”

“The policemen are customers,” I said, staring off at a painting of the blue-eyed man hanging above the mantle. He resembled Petre, but his eyes held wickedness.

Petre swallowed, and I glanced up at him. “He must pay them to keep quiet, or they didn’t realize he was molesting you.”

“But … but.” I shook my head and balled my fists. Uncle Jules had lied; he’d lied to all of us. The man was a monster. Even the older girls, they’d lived there before turning eighteen. He wanted them young, to break them in, and train them right. “He ….”

My legs gave out, but Petre scooped me into his arms before I hit the floor. He sat us down on the sofa, but I couldn’t stop shaking, and my hands clenched to his shirt. The truth was my age didn’t matter. Illegal or not, I never wanted to do those things. None of us had. The few times I did them willingly were because of the reward. Not riches or money, but things the girls and I needed to survive: extra food and warm blankets.

My stomached reeled, and I heaved. Petre stroked my hair and whispered words I didn’t understand. Everything, every part of my life, had equated to a lie. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered for me, but those girls were still there. If it wasn’t too late for me, it wasn’t too late for them.

“We need to stop him. He can’t …” I couldn’t finish the sentence. No, I didn’t want to talk about what that bastard did to me. “Those girls …” My head nuzzled his neck. His muscles there clenched and popped.

“If I’d known, angel,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Jules wouldn’t be breathing right now.” Petre blew out his breath and turned his head to me. He repeated the word breakfast as my stomach growled. Food was the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted to go to Hampshire House and slit Jules’ throat. The image replayed in my mind. Petre lifted me up from his lap, and I swore under my breath. He tossed me over his shoulder and started walking as I squealed in protest.

“Lord Petre, put that wee lass down,” Mellissa scolded him. “Aye and how is milady this morning?”

He slid me down, carefully avoiding my back, and pulled out a chair from the table. “Sit.”

My eyes tried to take in the massive space of the kitchen. The cabinets lined three walls, but the cooktop rested in the middle. Every surface gleamed, from the white paint to the dark, shiny countertops. His whole house was amazing compared to the dingy, murky brothel. “Feed her well, please.”

She placed a large plate in front of me along with a tall glass of brightly colored liquid. Petre poured a mug of brown sludge and placed it down too. I stared at the food, but I didn’t know what anything was. The mixture of smells watered my mouth. “Eggs,” he said, pointing to the white globs with yellow centers. “Toasted bread.” This time he pointed to the brown crusty square. “My old favorite, sausage, and those are hash browns.”

“Oh,” I said, poking at the yellow part of the egg. It exploded and coated everything it touched with the goo. “Oops...”

“This is orange juice, or OJ, and in the mug is coffee.” I’d smelled the coffee before, but this was the first time I saw it in a cup. “You can add sugar and cream to it,” he added, pulling a mini pitcher and covered dish toward me. He shot me a pointed look and said, “Eat up or I’ll force feed you.”

“Leave her to me, milord. I’ll fatten her up.”

I choked on the rubbery eggs. “Fatten me up? Why do I want to get fat?”

“Angel, you’re underweight for your height. If you were like me it wouldn’t matter, but it’s not healthy. Jules fed you enough to keep you alive.”

Once I’d hit puberty, he stopped feeding me at all. Those words digested as I nibbled the toast, which was almost as enjoyable as the bread from last night. Yes, Jules hadn’t given any of the girls many rations. There were days where we had nothing. We drank a lot of cold water, plain icy water. He said we had to stay thin, or men wouldn’t want us. Skinny women attracted more money, but we never saw a dime.

One time, one of the girls had ended up pregnant. He tied her to the bed, beat, and starved her until she lost the baby. After that, he tossed her onto the street as a lesson to the rest of us. We never saw her alive again. Uncle Jules drilled into us that pregnancy and gluttony made you fat, and men wouldn’t pay for fat girls.

“How was yer date last night?” Mellissa changed the subject. “Oh and thank ye for the treat.”

I gagged down another bite of egg. “I had a great time, although it was rather enlightening.” Petre kissed my forehead and nodded to her.

“Ach, so ye kno’ the big secret,” she said, raising her brow. I nodded, sipping the sweet and tart juice.

“There’s much to discuss, but she knows what I am.” I didn’t like his tone, and it reminded me that I had many questions to ask him. He wasn’t getting off that easy if Petre thought I’d forget. “My lovelies, I have some business to attend to, but I won’t be gone long.” He walked to the counter and opened a drawer. In his hands were stacks of envelopes, and he withdrew two. “These are for you,” he said, and I opened the first white envelope. There was a huge stack of bills. The second was lighter and contained car keys.

“Petre,” I started to say, but he placed a finger to my lips.

Leaning down, he replaced it with his lips. “Don’t argue; take it, and go have some fun with Mellissa. I’ll return before sundown, and we will watch a movie tonight.”

My eyes widened as the strange metal sat in my hand. “But I can’t drive,” I whispered. “And we need to talk.”

“Not to worry milady; I can drive if ye like.”

Petre winked as he ducked out the back door. He didn’t even bother putting a coat on, and I watched him walk toward the stables. Moments later he appeared, trotting out on top of a massive black horse. Red glowing eyes turned to look at me, and I shuddered as the beast nodded his head. I blinked, and they swallowed into a thick fog.

My hand fell to my pounding heart as I turned to Mellissa. She smiled wide and warm. “You’re different from the others,” she said.

Others; I wondered what she meant but didn’t press her. Part of me didn’t want to know even if I’d already guessed it. As sweet and beautiful as Petre was, I wasn’t the first he’d bought. I didn’t have proof, but if he was as old as he claimed, it all made sense. What had happened to the rest? When he tired of me, would I share that fate? Granted, the last question would mean that he didn’t kill himself first.

I sat down again, returning to my cold breakfast, but found I didn’t have an appetite. Maybe it was because Mellissa stared –not in a rude judging way- but I couldn’t take more than a few bites. Excusing myself, I went up the stairs, passing Jobe on my way. He too was kind and gentle, as he bid me a good morning in a thick accent mimicking Mellissa’s hearty tone. The butler, I guessed, was around Mellissa’s age, and by the band on his finger –and hers- I assumed they were married. Had he visited brothels too or had she been enough? Neither were questions I could ask him, and I kindly excused myself from the well-mannered man.

Once within the safety of my rooms, I went about getting dressed. The closet, which had excited me, now made my stomach ache. I didn’t want to go out, and the thought of going anywhere without Petre dizzied my thoughts. There was a lot we needed to talk about and things to learn. Besides, I wasn’t keen on spending his money even if he gave permission. I’d rather give it to the girls, but I didn’t know how.

“Are ye dressed?” Melissa said as she knocked on the door.

I sighed, standing in my pajamas. “No.”

“Can I come in then?”

My eyes turned to the door, and I stared at the knob. I’d have to throw on a brave face even for her. Even if she accepted what I was, she wouldn’t understand where I came from. Explaining wasn’t an option either; I couldn’t talk about it. A form of denial, I guessed. Maybe if I refused to believe that Jules molested and sodomized me then it didn’t happen. Maybe one day I’d wake up, and my whole life would’ve been one giant nightmare. The thought ate at me, but so did knowing what those men were doing to those girls, and what they’d already done to others. Could I go on pretending nothing ever happened, and ignore what those young women and girls faced? I needed to wake up and face the music, but I had to save those girls, and for that, only Petre could help.

“Korri?”

“Yes,” I replied and forced a smile on my face. “I don’t know what to wear.”

The door creaked open, and I eyed the rusty hinge. Damaged but not broken. That was what I was too, but for how long? If I loved Petre, would he help me save the girls of Hampshire House? Could I change the future if Petre loved me too? Would that stop us from breaking one another?

I might not have believed in love, but my dream self did. The idea of it intrigued me, and I wanted to hold, cradle, and nurture the thought of love. In the dream, I had it, and the loss of it shattered me. A tear slid down my cheek, and Mellissa wiped it away.

My eyes roamed over the clothing, and I reached out to touch the soft fabric of a shirt. All of this life confused me. His words, promising it all to me, weighed on my mind too. I didn’t want the world, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted Petre. What I did know was that I wanted freedom and not to live in fear ever again. Saving the girls and bringing down Jules was the only way.

I wanted no woman or child to ever live through the hell I did. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, someone had once said. But I wasn’t strong; I was weak and weary. Strong would imply an inner power and knowing my mind, body, and heart. Nothing made sense, and my head pounded.

“I think I’ll go back to bed,” I said. My hands worked to close the blinds and curtains, and Mellissa helped without uttering a word. Her brown eyes kept watching me until she closed the door. Darkness suffocated me as I fell back to sleep.

The dreams assaulted me as the world crumbled and rumbled around me. Hoofed creatures spewed from the fissures and chased me. Each time, a man in a dark duster and hat had scooped me into my arms, red eyes glowing from beneath the brim. He called for me, but he hadn’t called my actual name. “Angelica, hold on Angel.” The dream repeated, but the same man saved me even as the creatures continued to change.

Chapter Eight

“B
onjour, Duc.” I bowed toward the eccentric vampire I’d known for hundreds of years. Tom rose from his desk and took my hand for a brief moment. “I have—“

“I know your questions, Petre.” He motioned for me to sit. The strange chair he kept in his office looked like a polar bear. For all I knew, it was. His hunting trophies littered the private residences he owned. At least he didn’t stuff his early victims. “Your young friend saw your change, and you want to know how.”

I stared at the Eiffel Tower paperweight and avoided his goggled eyes. Ridiculous fashions were his forte where I preferred simple garments. “Yes.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of an answer.” He sighed, leaning back into his own chair as the creaking drew my attention.

My eyes narrowed recalling his words from last night. “But you said she’s special.” Tom smiled and lifted the tinted goggles from his electric blue eyes.

His fingers steeped as he said, “Yes. Odd you call her what she is, odder because she is not like the others.” I cocked my head, and Tom rocked in his chair. “Most of God’s children are judgmental and cold-hearted. There is much warmth inside this Angel of yours.” I didn’t like that he agreed with me on the name. She was my angel, not his. Tom’s smile fell, and his lips pursed. “I know, and now you’ve gone and bitten her too.”

We’d been friends long enough for me to know Tomas wasn’t holding a grudge. Just as I’d known, he’d sensed a spark in Korrigan too. “The ABDA will show interest too, but ami I am the least of your concerns.”

“What would the demons want with an angel?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “She is one of them. Demons are all descendants of the original two hundred fallen angels.”

I gaped at him, unsure that I’d heard correctly. “I’d have known. Her scent, her taste--”

“Perhaps, but not always so.” His fingers danced together at the point, and Tomas closed his eyes. “The literary works.” His head bowed toward the open bible on his desk. “They are missing books that paint the real truth of Lucifer’s fall. Many think he awoke one day and decided to defy God, but the demons knew the truth.”

Tomas rose and walked toward a locked case. My eyes followed him as my mind attempted to find a distinction between Korri and the demons. “The Dead Sea Scrolls spoke of what came after the fall and doted on other various happenings. But the truth was, like the other Angels, he’d fallen in love with a mortal woman.”

My head swam until it might have exploded. Tom paged through the ancient tome as he read from the pages. “Together he gathered an army and descended upon the realms of the heavens. All the Angels wanted was the same free will as humans, but God denied them. One by one, they fell to the Earth, but not Lucifer. God cast him down into the fiery pit of hell. He locked the seven gates and crafted seven keys …”

I blinked. “What are the keys?”

“According to this book they are souls reborn until they are found. Each rebirth brings forth seven signs. When was Korrigan born?”

I scoffed at the elder vampire and faced him. “You can’t believe she is a key to the gates of hell.”

My hand ran over my face, and I leaned into it. No, I refused to believe that. Tomas sat down and plopped the ancient text on the desk. The Whore of Babylon looked out from the pages. Her dainty frame, long blond hair, and amber eyes haunted me. She appeared akin to Korrigan minus the hair color.

There remained much of our world I didn’t understand.

“She said her dreams come true,” I said, changing the subject. Tom’s head tilted and he rubbed his chin. The thought of the sweet and innocent Korrigan being this monster sickened my stomach. “Is it possible you’re wrong?”

“Not likely, but there’s a first time for everything.” He shrugged, but his lips remained tight. “Who were her parents?”

“According to Uncle Jules, he didn’t know, and he refused to tell me how she came into his care as an infant.” He had lied to me; I grew surer the more I spoke with Tomas, but it wasn’t a deal breaker. I would not send her away for his crimes. Perhaps there was no reason I’d ever send her away.

His brow rose. “I know that name.”

“He runs a brothel chain in Delphia that caters to fetishes, apparently young underage women, and things I don’t care to repeat.” My jaw ground at the mere thought, and my fists clenched. Kor already repeated it, and the fact that she knew of his business, but not real food, boiled my blood.

Tom’s eyes sparked, and his fist slammed on the desk. “They dare call us monsters.” I nodded in agreement and crossed my arms. “That poor girl; I’m going to whip something up for her.” He motioned me to follow him, and we ended up in the kitchen downstairs. “She has peculiar eyes, and I realized my staring made her uncomfortable, yet she continued to captivate me.”

“Yes, amber is unique,” I said. Demons often had amber or red eyes, but humans had them too. He pulled out various ingredients: butter, cream, mushrooms, and flour. The more he brought up the similarities though, the harder it was for me to deny the truth. Korrigan wasn’t a simple human being.

Tom hummed an unfamiliar tune as he went about slicing the mushrooms. My love of horses was akin to his love of food. Vampire speed could make short work of it; however, cooking turned into a craft for Tom. The man took great care and was meticulous with every recipe, and it showed in the sheer amount of business Le Café brought in. I paid a lot to rent out his restaurant, and I bet he made more than that from his human patrons in a single night.

“Nephilim,” he said and paused his musical soiree. “If her parents or if even one of them was a Nephilim or Angel.” Tom glanced upward, and his eyes became glassy. “I have to see her again.”

I bit my lip at his request. Kor wouldn’t want to, but maybe I could bring him to her instead. I hoped that, within a week or so, she’d find herself at ease. The uprooting and shock alone took a time for the other women, and I’d expected no less with my angel.

“Soon,” I said. Tom nodded before returning to his recipe. He’d moved on to tinker on the large stove, but I knew I couldn’t leave until he had finished or dismissed me. The level of his human born station demanded such respect and vampires were nothing if not reverent creatures. While I was once a Romanian Baron, Tom was once a French Duc.

“How long until your brother’s bonds fail?” His brow rose as he changed the subject. Sorcery kept Demon Spawn in line, as the beast grew stronger. “Have you told her about him?”

My mouth opened to answer when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I removed the metallic contraption and turned it on vibrate. The old satellite phones still worked in areas with towers.

“No, we have much to discuss, but I felt this was important.” Tom chuckled and shook his head.

He poured a thick yellow liquid into his pot as the skillet flared and bubbled. “You’ve much to learn about women. I’ll have someone drop this when I’m done. Petre, return to her, and in the future, do not leave her alone. If I’m correct in her lineage, she’s worth more money than the whoremonger realized.” Tom stopped stirring and turned his eyes to me. “But my ami, she cannot break your curse.”

It might not matter. I’d figure out another way to control my brother. “Au revoir m’ami.”

M
y keys fell as I stepped down from Demon Spawn. My hands shook the entire journey home because of Tom’s warning, echoing in my head. I’d called home, but no one answered. This went beyond breaking the curse though it too wasn’t far from my mind as the devil horse snorted.

Too much, too soon, and I wondered when I’d find her breaking point.

Was she ready to learn the truth of my brother or even me?
She’d handled learning about vampires, why not demonic, cursed horses too. My shoulders slumped as I ushered the beast into his stall.

“This is your fault,” I grumbled, and he tossed his head. The door closed, and I spun around to find Mellissa and Jobe. Their features held taught in their clenched jaws and sparks ignited in their palms. What had I done now?

“Welcome home sir,” Jobe said. “The wee lass locked herself in her room. Hasn’t been down all day.”

The sun had barely risen when I’d left. Demon Spawn buckled under my control when Mellissa muttered a Gaelic spell. My brother had calmed down within seconds, as the blue energy shot from her fingertips, and hit the horse between the eyes. The misty-like magic had spread over the black coat before absorbing into his body. His eyes glazed over, and he allowed me to lead him into the stall. I shot Mellissa a quick thanks, but her expression hadn’t changed.

“Where is Kor?” I asked, tending to the demon’s food and water.

Jobe pushed me from the stall, flicking his hands at me. “I canna dae this, sir.”

“He told ye,” she snapped with her hands lofted on her hips. Her usual warm eyes glared, and I winced. “I’m lucky I drug her from the closet.”

My body slumped, and the realization hit of Tom’s words. I shouldn’t have left her in the first place. Without another sound, I raced into the house. The door slammed behind me, but I ran up the stairs before the sound even registered in my mind. I knocked on her door and called her name. “Come on, Angel, open the door.”

Her heartbeat remained slow and steady. Even through the door, the cadence reached my ears. “Kor, I’m going to kick the door down if you don’t open it.” In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the best thing to say to her, but it worked when the door flung open.

She blinked and squinted. “I was asleep,” she mumbled and walked back to bed.

“
All this time?” She shrugged and plopped on the mattress. “Are you ill?” Kor shook her head and buried her face in her knees. “Angel, you have to give me a clue here. Mellissa and Jobe nearly took my head off.”

She didn’t say a word but patted her mattress. “Nope, you’re getting out of bed.”

Kor groaned and threw her legs over the side. I crooked my finger and backed away, but as she reached the door, and I stood in the living room, Korrigan smiled. She slammed the door shut, and the bolt followed. My breath hissed through my lips, and my knuckles cracked to relieve the tension.

I dug into my pocket for my keys and unlocked the door. Her eyes rolled, and Kor crossed her arms over her chest. “I have keys to every room in this house, but nice try.” I sighed inward and strolled to the bed. My hands fell to either side of her as I leaned closer. “Did you decide to hate me after all?”

“No,” Korrigan whispered, glancing away. “I want to be alone.”

My hands clenched into the blankets. “Why, I thought you had questions?”

“I do.” Her eyes met mine. “Why did you leave me here alone?”

“You weren’t alone,” I said, wondering if leaving her with two servants was technically leaving her alone. “It wasn’t safe to bring you with me. Demon—“

“The red-eyed horse.” Her hot breath tickled my lips. I hadn’t kissed her yet, and I didn’t want to wait any longer. “Did you—“

Kor moaned as my hand slid into her hair and pulled her to me. Those pink lips taunted me as they spread into a shy smile. Her long thick lashes batted, framing her brightened amber eyes. She was the sweetness, the blaring beacon of hope that flashed before my eyes. My lips brushed against hers, and a tingle rushed across my skin. “Mmm, did I what?” Before she could answer, I crushed her mouth again until she gasped for air.

After feeding her a supper of sandwiches –another food she hadn’t tried- we watched a movie. She curled into my arms on the sofa and nestled her soft cheek against my chest. In all my years, nothing had ever felt that right or perfect. The movie continued, but I wasn’t paying much attention to the glass box. Leftover technology from before the collapse, I had a knack with converting the antiques to run on the new energy grid system.

Humans would’ve found a new fossil fuel to burn and destroy, but Tom and I both brought the power of steam back and increased knowledge of biofuel. Coal was preferred in some areas, but those in charge didn’t ignore our money and power within Arcadia. Water and thus steam were not finite resources. Their pollution, or as some deemed footprint, were small compared to oil, coal, and gasoline. But something magical happened, and neither Tom nor I could take full credit.