Page 4 of Cryptic Dreams
I blow out a shaky breath and nod, then start collecting my things, mildly grateful laws like thatdoexist.
“Oh come on, Armstrong! We were just having a little fun!”
The head of the VSUST—Vampire Special Unit Swat Team—Sergeant Roy Armstrong grunts as his pristine combat boots come into my line of sight. “I don’t give a good goddamn about your fun, boy. Leave the vamp be so she can get back to her tomb before she burns to a crisp on my sidewalk.”
Cute.
Mytomb.
Never heard that one before.
Too bad he’s not actually that far off the mark since my tiny attic bedroom is pretty damn close to tomb-like.
With my purse refilled and library books in hand, I slowly get to my feet and try pointlessly to fix my clothes. I don’t lift my head, don’t look at the faces of my tormentors, I don’t even meet the eyes of my unintentional rescuer. I simply nod my quiet thanks and start scurrying down the sidewalk, careful to avoid anyone else who may be roaming the streets of the French Quarter at six in the morning.
I can already see the sun starting to rise, the beautiful orange and pinks painting the sky in the distance, its warmth and light something I covet so desperately. Something I will never have because I simplycan’thave it. Something I’m reminded of as that big ball of fire in the sky continues to rise and my skin pulls tight over my muscles then begins to itch and sting.
I run the last few feet to my house and start digging through my purse for my keys, scaling the steps and fumbling with the lock before I finally make it inside.
With a sigh, I close the door quietly and take a brief second to collect myself before I slip off my shoes and start running again. Ifheis up already and getting his day started, there is no way I’ll be able to avoid a confrontation. So, now I just have to pray I can get up the two flights of stairs to my attic as quickly as possible.
And I do.
I avoid every crack and slat, manage to tiptoe around all of the boards I know creak and moan, then open my door as silently as possible because yes, the house is old and that definitely creaks and moans too.
Once inside my room, I close the door and release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding only to have it whoosh from my lungs as fingers dig into the back of my hair and pull so hard I feel a few strands pop at the roots.
“You are late,cheri,”hegrowls, his breath saturated with rum and hate. “I don’t like it when you’re late.”
My heart is hammering against my ribs but I don’t move, don’t speak. Anything I say will be useless and it’ll only make him angrier.
He gives my hair another hard tug, more strands freeing themselves from my scalp, and just when tears inevitably spring to my eyes, he shoves me forward with so much force I drop everything I was holding and crash to my knees.
“No breakfast,” he grunts as he walks forward until he’s looming over me. “No clean clothes.” I try to get up but he kicks the back of my legs and I fall flat against the floor. “No clean house.”
I start to army crawl and slowly try to drag my body away from the monster that keeps me locked in a tower, but I’m already sore and absolutely terrified. He kicks me in the ribs and pain lances through every inch of my body, his steel-toe work boot connecting hard enough to bend bone.
“I have expectations,cheri. Expectations from the agreement our families made in the beginning.” Another hard kick has me airborne, and when I land, I come down on top of the blood bags he clearly pulled from my mini fridge and destroyed. “And since y’all won’t fucking die, you are obligated to keep up your end of the bargain.”
He kicks me again and rolls me to my back, blood flying from my lips, the telltale sign that he managed to send one of my ribs piercing into a lung. The pain is excruciating, blinding, but even this won’t be enough to sate him. No, he’s going to leave me a broken mess on the floor before he’s had his fill, before what he views as punishment for the burden of my existence is enough.
He stands above me glowering, so much rage in those yellow eyes, and when he kneels, puts a knee on either side of my body and crouches, I know this isn’t going to be a quick punishment.
“I will teach you,cheri,” he sneers. “Teach you what you need to know, what your ignorant blood sucking parents should have taught y’all from the beginning.” He grabs the front of my hair in his fist, yanks my head from the floor, and leans until we’re almost nose to nose. “You are spineless. You are weak. You are a disgraceful little excuse for a female and your kind should have been exterminated as soon as they were discovered.” Then he smiles sadistically. “And I’m going to make damn sure y’all know your fucking place.”
Pain explodes across my face as he hits me, hits me so hard I can hear my nose break, and as more blood fills my mouth, as my eyes water, he lets go of my hair. My head hits the hardwood with a sickening thud and spots dance across my vision moments before it goes completely black. And I silently pray that this time he won’t just stop at hitting me. No, I pray that this is the day he finally makes good on his threats and kills me, drives a knife through my battered heart or drags my broken body outside to burn in the sun I so desperately long to see.
* * *
My eyesopen slowly and try to blink away the blur.
I’m alone.
Thank god, I’m alone.
I don’t smellhisvile stench, don’t feel his threatening glare. Hopefully he went to work and I’ll be able to gather myself, try to get cleaned up and rest so I can heal properly—something that would be way easier if I had blood bags that were intact, or a willing donor on hand. Even so, if he is gone then I can assess the damage and crawl into bed for a few hours so I don’t look as horrible as I feel when I go see Orion tonight.
Orion.
