Read Falling Between (The Vaettir Serial, #1) Online
Authors: Sara C. Roethle
Tags: #dark fantasy romance, #paranormal romance serial, #witches and wizards, #paranormal urban fantasy, #short reads, #magic and occult
“What the hell was that?” I whispered.
Sophie abruptly let go of my shoulders and started walking again. “My brother and I are Bastet,” she explained, as if it made all of the sense in the world.
I knew that Bastet was the cat-headed Egyptian goddess of warfare, but I didn't think Sophie was claiming to be a goddess. “Estus said that you're Vaettir,” I said, feeling extremely silly for discussing it so seriously.
“We are,” she said simply.
We passed through a large dining area and into a kitchen the size of what a large restaurant would have. There were large pots filled with boiling liquids on the industrial sized stove. Sophie retrieved a large bowl and began filling it with what looked like beef stew.
“I'm vegan,” I chimed in.
She dumped the stew back into the pot irritably. “Of course you are,” she said with a touch of sarcasm. “Because a vegan executioner totally makes sense.”
“I'm not an executioner,” I corrected. “You've all made a mistake.”
“Whatever you say,” she replied as she began hacking away at a large loaf of bread. “Cheese?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No cheese, eggs, or other animal products.”
Sophie snorted. “Well that's irritating.” She opened a large, walk-in refrigerator and disappeared inside, eventually emerging with an armful of vegetables. She placed them on a cutting board and began chopping haphazardly. Within a few minutes I was seated at the large counter in the kitchen with an all vegetable sandwich placed in front of me. I knew that the bread was likely made with eggs, but the sight of Sophie wielding the large kitchen knife had prompted me to keep my mouth shut.
I really was starving though, so I picked up the sandwich and prepared to take a bite. “How is our little executioner doing?” Someone whispered right beside my ear. No one had been there a moment before.
I jumped and dropped my sandwich back to its plate, causing it to fall apart. I turned to find Alaric staring at me from just a few inches away.
My pulse quickened as he swept my hair away from my face to reveal my neck. “You know there's no meat on your sandwich?” he asked, looking at my neck instead of my face.
I scooted my stool a few inches away from him. He didn't seem offended. In fact, he pulled another stool up close and sat with his knee touching mine. I was glad that he'd at least found a shirt somewhere as he leaned against me.
Sophie cleared her throat behind us. She sat near the door drinking a cup of coffee. I would have loved some coffee, but I didn't really want to ask her for anything else. I already had the feeling that she hadn't appreciated having to make a sandwich for me.
Seeing my longing gaze, Alaric rose from his seat and poured two more cups from the pot Sophie had made. He placed one cup beside me, then sat in his original position.
I sipped the coffee gratefully, feeling instantly more stable as the warm liquid poured down my throat, warming the icy pit that had formed in my insides. Alaric sipped on his own coffee as he watched me.
I glanced at him, feeling increasingly awkward. “Do you have to do that?” I asked.
“Do what?” he replied as he picked up a piece of my hair to play with.
“Be creepy,” I replied as I gathered up my sandwich.
He laughed and dropped my hair, but didn't scoot away. He watched me take the first bite of my sandwich. “You know,” he said. “A lot of women don't like being watched while they eat.”
I washed the first bite down with a sip of coffee. With only vegetables on the hard bread, the sandwich was a little dry. “I don't care if you watch me,” I replied. “Just don't touch me.”
“Well you two are obviously getting along,” Sophie quipped. “So I'll just let Alaric show you back to your room.”
Before I could stop her, she stood and left the kitchen. I had to quickly close my gaping jaw as I turned back to Alaric. “Eat your sandwich,” he said good-naturedly.
I took another bite of the dry sandwich and had even more trouble swallowing than before. It had seemed like a good idea to eat, but now each bite was beginning to feel like heavy lead in my stomach. I put the sandwich down on the plate, suddenly disgusted with it.
“Black isn't your color,” Alaric commented. “I tried to pick your clothes, but I was over-ruled.”
“Who picked them?” I asked.
“Sophie,” he replied. “She chose them while you were still sleeping. I take it you will be staying with us?”
I pushed my sandwich plate away. Yeah, definitely done. “Like I have a choice,” I answered sullenly.
Alaric laughed as he spun down off of his stool in one liquid motion. “I suppose not.”
I suddenly felt the tears welling up again. I didn't know why they chose to hit just then, a delayed reaction I guess. I looked down at my uneaten sandwich and cried, because I didn't know what else to do.
A
laric had waited while I cried. He didn't try to comfort me. I was grateful. It would have been just a little too strange having one of my captors showing that type of compassion.
My tears had left me numb and thoroughly without an appetite. I left the sandwich on the counter so Alaric could walk me back to my room. He reached my door first and held it open for me, the picture of a perfect gentleman. Yeah right. I turned and looked at him, hoping he would leave me alone without a fuss. He didn't.
“I'm tired,” I said, hoping to appeal to his sense of mercy.
“I know you've been through a lot-” he began.
“That's a vast understatement,” I interrupted.
“And I know you probably don't have warm, fuzzy feelings towards any of us right now,” he went on.
“Keep going,” I sighed. “You're on a roll.”
Alaric laughed. “Your ability to be sarcastic under the direst of circumstances is quite impressive.”
“Would you rather I screamed and begged for my life?” I questioned.
“It might be interesting,” he replied. “Though your life is in no danger.”
I sat down on the foot of the ornate bed, smoothing the thick comforter with my hands. “You don't have to die in order to lose your life,” I argued.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “And your life was so great before?” he questioned.
I glared at him. “It was nothing special, but at least I had a choice in what I did.”
“And you chose to shut yourself up in your little house,” he said softly. “No, I don't think we took you away from very much at all.”
I continued to glare. “You know, I preferred you when you were flirtatious.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “As my lady commands.”
I smiled, then quickly wiped it away. A girl shouldn't smile at her kidnapper, even when he was trying to cheer her up. “I'm tired,” I said again.
He nodded. “I wouldn't go wandering,” he advised. “Many things less pleasant than my sister wander these halls.”
With that ominous advice ringing in the air, he left the room and shut the door. I leaned down and took off the high-heeled boots. Apparently I'd just been dressed up to meet with Estus. He was their leader, in some way, so I suppose he merited proper attire.
I paced around the room, not happy to be left with only the form-fitting dress to wear. There were a few dressers in the room that matched the bed, so I started going through them. Many of the drawers were empty, but eventually I came to two drawers filled with clothes. I found some silky red pajama pants with a matching shirt, but passed them over. I didn't actually want to go to sleep. I wanted to find a way out.
I searched through the clothes a little bit more and came out with a pair of black jeans and an indigo blue tee shirt. The jeans fit me like a glove. My imprisonment had obviously been well-planned. Gre-at.
I felt slightly better in normal clothing. There was even a pair of black running shoes underneath the dresser. It was as if they actually
wanted
me to run. I was happy to oblige.
When I could find nothing else of use in the room, I sat on the bed to wait. Hopefully everyone would go to sleep and I could search for an exit unhindered. I wasn't sure how anyone could even tell that it was night-time without windows, but I felt tired enough for it to be night. That meant that it had already been a full day since I'd been taken.
I tried to just wait on the bed, but I was too nervous to sit still. Instead I began examining the room, even though there wasn't much to it. A new fire had been lit before I was re-delivered to my room. It crackled happily as it gave off its warmth, contrasting drastically with my mood.
I stood by the fire for a while, because it beat sitting on the bed. Eventually I went through the dressers again, even though I knew I'd find the same things, and looked underneath the bed as well. There was nothing under the bed, not even dust bunnies.
Finally I'd had enough, and went for the door. I reached for the knob and hesitated. I placed my ear against the door and paused to listen, but couldn't hear anything on the other side. I took a deep breath and grabbed the knob, opening the door before I could think better of it. I let out my breath when it was revealed that no one was waiting on the other side.
With a steadying hand against the wall, I tip-toed out into the hallway, almost wishing I would have gone with bare feet rather than running shoes. I crept down the hall cringing at the little tip-taps of my steps. The lighting in the halls was more dim that it had been earlier, but still enough to see by luckily. Not sure where to go, I finally decided to go back down the hallway where I'd had my encounter with James. I did
not
want another meeting with him, but it seemed the most likely place for an exit. From what I'd seen of the opposite direction, the other halls led deeper into the compound.
I looked over my shoulder every few seconds, wanting to run, but afraid of the noise my feet would make. I was mid-step when I heard a low-throated growl that raised the hairs on my arms. I turned around in what felt like slow motion to see a dog the size of a grizzly bear.
I stood perfectly still as the beast took a slow step towards me. Upon closer observation, maybe it wasn't a dog. It had a face similar to that of a rottweiler, but something about its stance was wrong. I realized that it's neck was far too long, and what I could see of its tail was way too thick. It had the body of a bear, the head of a dog, and the neck and stance of a giant lizard. Dark brown fur flowed over it's face and body, blending the aspects of different animals seamlessly.
The thing cocked back its head and sniffed the air, then let out another low growl. It shifted from foot to foot, as if preparing to pounce. Knowing that I would have no chance if it jumped on me, I turned and ran.
I was no longer concerned about my footfalls as I rounded a corner in the hallway. I grabbed the knob of the first door that I saw, praying to whatever I should be praying to that it wasn't locked. The door came open and I practically fell inside. I felt the air shift behind me as the creature went barreling by. I slammed the door shut and slid the lock into place, not waiting to see if the creature came back. I was suddenly very glad that all of the doors in the place seemed to be made of heavy, sturdy wood.
I turned to look at the room I was now trapped in. It was made of stone, of course, but something dark stained the walls and floor. The room barely had enough light to see by. I walked towards the nearest wall and touched the stains, smoothing my fingertips across the stone. My fingers came away with something thick and sticky. Older, dry stains were spread underneath the more recent ones, flowing in patterns like water. I stepped away from the wall, rubbing my fingers on my jeans as I went.
My sneakered feet stuck to the floor as I explored the dimly-lit room a little further. Large cages with thick steel bars lined the far wall. The refuse inside of the cages hinted to the fact that they had once been occupied, but they were all empty now. I wondered if the cages were for other beasts like the one I'd seen. The room stank of sickness and antiseptic.
A scratching at the door caught my attention. At first I thought that the creature had realized where I was, but then I noticed that the scratching was coming from somewhere beside the door, and not outside of it.
I crept towards the sound, barely able to hear the scratching over the thudding of my heart. There was something small moving around where the floor met the wall, but there wasn't enough light to quite make out what it was. I crouched down and reached out a hand to try and coax the thing into the dim light. It worked. Too fast to follow, the thing lunged for me. It was only the size of a very large rat, but it flew into me with such force that it knocked me to the ground.
The moist stickiness of the floor seeped into my clothing as I frantically tried to grab at the thing that was scratching at my torso. I wrapped my hands around it, but the creature was wet and slippery. It slipped right through my fingers and went for my throat, wrapping tightly around my neck to cut off my air supply.
My breath wheezed in and out shallowly as I pried at the thing's fingers. Fingers? It felt like a hand around my throat. Flashes of fear and rage pulsed in my mind. I saw blurry scenes that I knew had nothing to do with my own memories, they were somehow coming from the creature. The had scenes faded as my vision began to go black when I felt a small rush of energy, then the thing suddenly went limp. I threw it off of me and pushed myself backwards across the floor.
My vision came back in stages as I caught my breath. I could see the dark shape of the thing a few feet away, but it didn't move. I got to my feet and ran forward as quickly as I could manage, and stomped the creature with my heel as soon as I reached it. I jumped on it until I heard bones crunch, then finally leaned down to examine it again. It
was
a hand.
The hand was now bruised and misshapen from my stomping, but that wasn't the worst of its injuries. Right above the wrist bone the hand had been severed from its owner. Bone gleamed in the dim light as blood continued to gush forth. There shouldn't have been that much blood in just a hand, but the thing was covered in it. That was why it had been so difficult to keep a hold of. Yet none of those things had been what killed it. I had killed it, just like I did Matthew. I knew it with a sickening surety. I had felt the same rush of energy when Matthew died.