Constricted: Beyond the Brothel Walls (2 page)

I didn’t have a mother or father weeping over my corpse. Jules didn’t know who they were. No one would visit my wake or sit by my side as the casket, my final bed, lowered into the ground. The friends I had weren’t friends at all. While I cared about the other girls and women, they’d shunned me. Tears, the single tears that might fall, be it from the heavens, belonged to God and only if he saw fit to cry over the loss of me. The whole notion made my eyes sting. If I could change the law, reverse time, or find a way to save us all, I would do so in a heartbeat. Life wasn’t fair; I understood that, but this wasn’t life worth living. This had remained my purgatory.

I nodded even if I envied them.
Men.
Free to move on with their lives walk through the doors that would magically open to the prospect of a better life. But the grass stayed greener on the other side, no matter what side you landed on. Truth, maybe the only one Jules ever spoke.

He preached that variety was the key to the Hampshire House of the Lady. There were all types of girls and women available. Uncle Jules hadn’t taught me anything else about the business, but I’d learned a lot from watching him. Men came in, requested a girl or woman, handed him the money, and went to her room. Sometimes they even made appointments, as if they were visiting a doctor. Most of them had wives, evident from the shiny bands worn on their fingers. That part had disgusted me. Why marry and use a brothel?

“An alien ship just landed over there.” I nodded again at the sound of the stranger’s voice. His words registered, and a chuckle escaped from my lips. The sound startled me; I didn’t usually laugh or smile unless forced. When had I last laughed?

“I’m sorry; I tend to lose myself in my thoughts.”

“Quite all right; the color faded from your cheeks, and I thought you might go into shock.” His dark hair fell forward, and he let it hang there against his pale face. He smiled, and I considered his attributes. Quite scandalous, but my eyes and curiosity betrayed me. I grew bolder in his presence, and I didn’t understand why. Like he held an invisible power and drew out the woman I’d hidden inside. Dimples lined his high cheeks, making his eyes pop. On second glance, however, his eyes shone a cool grey. My favorite color; it matched my soul. Neither good nor evil, although Jules often referred to me as the latter.

“May I ask you a question?” He gestured me to continue, and his body shifted closer. “Please don’t take this as rude, but where are you from?”

His eyes darkened a fraction, but his smile held. “Romania.”

Sad that Uncle Jules cared so little for schooling; I hadn’t an inkling of where that was. Was it a faraway land filled with castles? Did it snow there or was it warm and sunny all the time? Had it survived the collapse or earthquakes? As expected, a courtesan’s knowledge remained lewd acts and naughty words. Jules often said anything else was deemed wasteful in God’s eyes.

He rested his hand on his chin. “It is obvious you’re American, but might I ask where you are traveling?”

“Arcadia.” I sort of lied, but figured my destination country was close enough and vague. As intriguing as the dark stranger was, I knew better than to give away all my secrets. “On business.”

“You appear far too young for business,” he replied, his smile straining wider. My stomach flipped, and the air grew thicker in our car. Metal groaned as we hit another bump, and I toppled forward. His eyes dilated, and his breathing changed. Was he even breathing? I scrambled back into my seat. His nostrils had flared wide before they returned to normal.

My legs shifted, and I eyed the door. Could I make it before he reacted? No. “I assure you I am old enough, sir.”

My hands smoothed over my tattered and holed jeans.

“I meant no offense, but I do know you are lying.” A nervous laugh left my parted lips, and he leaned forward. The train jolted my body again, but this time I gripped the seat until my knuckles turned white. “Your name is Korrigan, not Charlotte, and you are traveling to Nova Scotia.” My eyes grew wider as he spoke; his eerie smile had turned from charming to wolfish before I could blink or react. I recognized the look all too well. “Once there you’re meeting a man named Petre von Baron, and that my beloved, would be me.”

He offered his hand.
Petre.
I gaped at the pale, long fingers and well-manicured nails. Jules hadn’t given me any name. His dark eyebrows rose up together, making his demeanor soften, but I couldn’t touch him.
Uncle Jules said the man would find me.
My hands trembled, hidden now in my jacket sleeves. Out of all the girls, he —Petre— picked me. I swallowed hard and nodded. This was my new master?

I tumbled to my knees, ignoring the sting as they hit the thin carpet, and bowed my head toward Petre’s feet. Jules taught me to beg forgiveness, to grovel at his feet. My lip quivered, dropping to speak, but words refused to come out. Flashes of the black whip hazed my vision, and my back ached, reminding me of my last lashing. Last night, Jules had said good-bye in his signature way as he’d unleashed red-coated rage across my back until my skin had bled his crimson prize.

“Why are you on the floor?” Petre asked.

Chapter Two

L
ong before approaching her on the train, I’d eyed the youthful Korrigan. Stalked as if a predator made for a better story, but she had not known I shadowed her steps. The daylight hours proved the easiest to watch the little pixie as she moved between the rooms or those daring times Jules had left her alone. From the moment she’d left the Hampshire House of the Lady, I’d pursued each delicate step of her worn sneakers. Even before the contract’s ink had dried, I’d watched her from afar, over the course of her teenaged years. Like a prowler, I’d waited as she grew from a young lady into a woman, yet little changed. Already I’d found something in common with her.

I hadn’t changed either, not in over three hundred years, and I wouldn’t ever again. Forever frozen naught but a few years older than Korrigan, but with more lifetimes lived than she’d yet to witness. All of it I’d wanted to give to her.

Something about her, a spark in those bright amber eyes, called to me. Their unabashed glow drew me in even though sirens blared a warning. I shouldn’t want her for myself. From the first moment I saw her, I’d thought of no one else. The curve of her mouth, her silhouette, and her tiny size
—
all captivated me, but we hadn’t met until the day on the train.

Uncle Jules –the well-known brothel owner- had forbid us from meeting, and he’d insisted upon that stipulation as a condition of our bargain; I’d kept away. My distance wasn’t easy to maintain, but to have her I would’ve done anything. Unlike Korrigan, I was undead. Vampire remained a general term among the knowing humans and afflicted demonic underworld. Cursed into an undead existence because of a lapse I’d made three hundred years ago. I survived now on the life force of others, but even without blood, I would have existed.

“Why are you on the floor?” I asked again and garnered the same response. She refused to listen. The reasoning of my voice didn’t help. Even softer tones did little to alleviate the abrupt frazzling of her nerves. Korrigan trembled like a child scorned for breaking a vase.

The train jostled again, and I cursed the lights for dimming.
Time, she needed more time to adjust.
I placed myself in her shoes and chewed my lip. No, it did nothing; I didn’t understand her trepidation toward me. The souring scent of fear rolled from her frame. But I did know a thing or two about wanting what I couldn’t have. My eyes refused to glance away. The flare of her eyes and that adorable temper, those I understood all too well. At their root grew desire. Not for me, but the sentiment worked the same no matter the purpose. My intention remained her.

A hand hovered over her head, itching to caress her soft skin. “Korrigan, please that isn’t necessary.” I pulled away.

Patience, the virtue, was not my strongest suit. Each time I had attempted to travel home, I’d made it no further than the sundered Isles of New York, before turning Demon Spawn –my cursed twin brother- around.

The desire overtook me, realizing I required her; countless times, I had attempted to persuade Uncle Jules with money. He’d fought every bargain attempted. Most times, he had refused to hear out the details before he tossed me out and shouted no. Korrigan was not for sale; his refusal made me covet her even more. In life or death, the word no meant little. Her life held a price; every man had a price. I needed the time to discover his weakness. His existence became my final offer, a simple threat of my capable hands. Competent hands had promised to squeeze his body until every drop of blood fell. What quality were his riches and popularity if he had died?

People like Jules needed to evaporate from this broken world, but I wasn’t the killing type. Korrigan would learn in time. No sooner could I have harmed a fly. Unless the fly threatened something I loved, and loved her I had.

The old man hadn’t realized that fact, or that my brother relished in killing. He had murdered, not me. Few alive today knew Nikolai’s secret past, but a few understood mine. From dusk to dawn to dusk, the fiends inside of us rose. My horse –my brother- and I shared an affliction; we would not die.

Korrigan would resolve the hex placed upon our heads. My bones, they radiated the truth. She’d save us both, and I’d make sure she never wanted for anything again.

“If you’re not going to speak, please sit back in your seat,” I said, shifting toward a sharper tone than usual. The manner made me wince; this wasn’t how I addressed a lady. Her eyes remained down, and she swallowed hard. My fingers tapped across my knee as she listened, rocking back on her feet. I shook my head, trying to figure Korrigan out. Why would she go down on her hands and knees like an animal? “Thank you.”

Her stare glazed over, and those amber eyes fell to my feet. Something had told me before Korrigan held a rebellious streak, buried beneath the walls she’d constructed around her person. Already defiance shined through and sparkled in her amber eyes.

She had carried her own as the ticket collector salivated over her dainty figure, and she held a straight face as she lied to me. Though it vanished, I saw glimpses in her stiffened shoulders too. Pride radiated as she put me in my place and offered me hope that I hadn’t been too late. The steam engine shook again, tossing my body against the window, but her frail body didn’t budge.

“There is no need to worry.” Her eyes widened larger than a snowy owl swooping in for the kill.

“I …” Her eyes looked up, but her stare dropped to the thin carpet.

Our car wobbled as I stood and grasped the curtain framing the window to steady myself. When the train car finished, I sat to her side. The worn bench seat cradled my lofty frame, but it remained vacant of true comfort. First class train rides weren’t what they used to be, and I made a mental note to improve the systems.

I withdrew her hands from the marred sleeves of her dingy wool coat. Two sizes too large, the cuffs had swallowed her up whole. She shivered under my touch, the fear refusing to leave her. There wasn’t much reason to dread me, not unless she caught me unawares in a fit of starved hunger. I doubted her beauty would stop me but rather serve the opposite. Even now, satiated, the monster clawed at my insides for a taste of her warm flesh as her body rocked against my chest.

Her scent stayed strong but became somewhat sweet. Honey and vanilla mingled with her rancid trepidation as it wafted through our train car. The lights dimmed again, the steam power still spotty after years of reliance on diesel fuel. Still, both were astounding advancements, considering I’d lived and died during the mid seventeenth century. New technology advanced slower these days unlike the industrial booms of the past. We had the ideas and monetary means, but materials and travel slowed our efforts down after the world shattered to hell. All that remained of the world were three countries, and Delphia lay shattered in islands.

Korrigan gasped, and I tightened my grip as the glass globes had blinked on and off before going out. My free hand slipped into my coat, palming my revolver nestled at my breast. Heaven help anyone who tried to take her from me during the blackout. If the pistol didn’t get them, I’d rip into their necks.

I shushed her, trying to reassure with my invisible smile and sweet voice. The lights remained out, but after the ticket man, I wouldn’t risk leaving her alone in the darkness of my train car. No one aboard knew me as the owner, and this car usually sat empty. Those who used it paid a much higher premium. My hand moved to her back, and her breath sucked in like a sharp whistle. Nothing I tried made a difference. Under my touch, she stiffened into a board and refused to meet my gaze.

The warmth of her hand penetrated my cold skin, one of the reasons I preferred living in northern climates. Vampires
—
cursed or created
—
felt hot, cold, and even pain. None of those had affected the undead the way it had humans. Our skin ran cold unless we consumed fresh human, blood right from the vein.

“I’m not angry about the lie; it was humorous,” I said, trying again to calm her nervous tension. The train vibrated yet again, and the lights blazed back on, blinding me for a moment. That time she did move, but I stopped her from leaving my side as she fled my grasp. Her face had grimaced for a second before retorting back to normal. My grip loosened around her waist, and I allowed my hands to slip away.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head and stared out the window. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as Korrigan lied once more. Something I couldn’t see or understand pained her, but pride stopped her from showing.

“Are you hungry or thirsty?” She shook her head again. “It is a few hours until we arrive; why don’t you rest?”

Her eyes darted from my feet to the door before settling out the dark window. We’d departed Delphia now, but a long journey lain ahead before we reached the New Isle of Nova Scotia. They belonged to the New Arcadian government, which ruled over humans, vampires, and demons, making up the remnants of Canada and Alaska. At our current pace, we wouldn’t arrive until the late evening. The train was taking far too long, but I didn’t dare leave her alone to discern the hold-up. When she slept, I’d have to lock her into the compartment.

My arm fell around her shoulders. Uncle Jules; I didn’t trust him either, and I especially didn’t trust him not to have spies on my train. I questioned her value to him, but he wouldn’t divulge the secrets. Something about Korrigan had made her different to him, and I aimed to find out.

I knelt in front of her and gazed into her amber eyes. “Sleep now.”

She nodded her tinted dark head and lay down on the seat. Overhead, clean linens were stored, and I pulled a wool blanket from the compartment. Korrigan didn’t budge as I tucked the covers around her body, and she almost disappeared beneath the bulk. Compulsion was a vampire perk, but I didn’t use it often. There was something wrong about altering a person’s mind, and it churned my stomach every time. This time even more as I’d forced her into a deep slumber.

W
hile Korrigan slept, I wandered the train halls, making my way to where they housed my twin brother Nikolai. Demon Spawn –as I renamed him- wasn’t fond of traveling, but he had sensed when things went awry. I assumed the heightened senses and abilities befell his trickster nature, but as a mere flickering, a shadow of his former human self. We were nothing alike then or now, but I’d cared for him out of both loyalty and fear.

The voodoo slave cursed me for eternity, unless I obtained the sacred oath of a blood virgin, one who fell in love with the damned. For two hundred years, I tried to end this life, but I wasn’t like the other vampires. Silver, crosses, holy water … none of it had worked. Most of the experiments were laughable though, if not maddening. I created new vampires as they did, but I could not die myself without first breaking the curse. Korrigan came into my plans the moment I saw her, but first she required rest.

The scent of hay wafted heavy through the air, when I entered the stable compartment. They almost traveled in style, and the swaying car stabilized better than the passenger cars. My eyes wandered over the floor and the stalls. Out of them all, one horse made a ruckus, and I knew the beast as Nikolai. There wasn’t a huge rush, and I did enjoy his discomfort a bit too much as I perused the beasts traveling with us to New Arcadia. The animals, these pets, breeding stock, and racehorses traveled better than the rest of us. They just didn’t realize how uncomfortable bumpy cars could be.

I clicked my tongue at a beautiful black mare and reached into my pocket for a treat. Dealing with a demon horse over the years taught me new tricks. Horses loved the attention and snacks just like humans. Most animals did and I found their company more enjoyable than humans. If I couldn’t break the curse, a sanctuary had remained my backup plan. Turn my house into a sanctuary, spreading my fortune to animals.

And Korrigan too.

Uncle Jules wasn’t innocent. Demons weren’t blameless. He abused and lied to those girls for personal gain. I didn’t want to believe anyone capable, but the evidence smacked me in the face. The rumors were true, and the bile twisted in my stomach. Underfed, underdressed, and acting like a submissive slave gave credence to the rumors of Hampshire House. Jules had wanted his girl’s dumb, complaint, and waif-like. He dressed them up like dolls and sold their bodies to the highest bidder.