Falling Between (The Vaettir Serial, #1) (4 page)

I pushed myself away from the hand just before I lost what little dinner I'd eaten. My vomit and tears fell to commingle with the substance on the floor that I now realized was blood. The whole room was covered in blood. I quickly got to my feet and tried to wipe my hands off on my jeans, but the blood was too sticky and I couldn't get it all off. I stumbled back towards the door, ready to take my chances with the creature if it meant I could just get out of that room. How had the hand even moved to begin with?

I glanced back at the hand in question, half-expecting it to have disappeared, but it was still just lying there. My own hands were shaking so badly that it took me several tries to undo the lock. When I finally managed to open the door I had to jump back, because someone was in the doorway. I ended up slipping and falling hard on my tail-bone.

Alaric looked down at me. “I thought you might try to run again. I figured I'd make sure you didn't get eaten.”

“Great job,” I replied shakily.

He reached down and picked me up effortlessly. He  carried me out of the room of horrors without a word, and I let him. “You need another bath,” he commented once we were walking down the hall.

“W-what was that room?” I stammered. “There was a hand.”

He chuckled. “Sometimes parts get left behind. They can be a little cross about what happened to their bodies.”

I almost thought that I was going to vomit again, but I managed to hold it in. “And what happened to their bodies?” I asked weakly.

“Did Estus tell you why you were brought back to us?” he asked rather than answering my question.

“He said you needed a new executioner,” I answered, as if it were a normal thing to say.

Alaric stopped to hoist me up and get a more firm grip around me. “You just met the hand of our last executioner,” he explained.

“You killed him!” I exclaimed, trying to wriggle out of his grip.

“Not me personally,” he replied holding on and not letting me drop. “Though I would have. He was a traitor.”

The struggling was getting me nowhere, so I stopped. “What did he do?” I asked instead.

Alaric looked down at me with a cold expression. “He was a traitor, and we cannot afford traitors in times like these.”

“Times like these?” I prompted.

“My dear executioner,” he replied. “We are at war.”

Alaric let me down to my feet as we reached the bathroom. I looked at him as he prepared to leave me while visions of lizard dogs and bloody hands danced in my head. “Please stay,” I said before I could think it through.

He looked surprised, then smiled. “You mean,
stay
?” he drew out the word as if it meant more than just staying.

My eyes widened. “Oh no,” I corrected. “It's just. What if there are more body parts wandering around?”

“You handled that hand all on your own-” he began.

“Please,” I interrupted.

He shrugged and shut the bathroom door behind us, then went to sit on the closed toilet seat.

“You have blood on your clothes,” I observed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “You have much more on yours.”

I looked down. He was right. The sticky, congealed blood had soaked into the back of my jeans, and there were smears of it all over my shirt. “Close your eyes please,” I said, more than ready to get out of the soiled clothing.

“And what if I said no?” he asked with his eyes still wide open.

“Then I would take my chances with the severed body parts,” I answered bluntly.

He laughed at me, but still obeyed and closed his eyes. I peeled the soiled clothing off and hopped quickly into the tub. Instead of just filling it right away, I ran the water and splashed off any of the blood that was on my skin so it could run down the drain. The pinkish water running towards the drain would have almost been pretty if I didn't know that it was from a man who had been brutally murdered.

“Can I open them yet?” Alaric asked in a tone that implied that I was being very silly.

“Yes,” I answered. “But keep your gaze forward please.” If modesty was silly, then baby, call me the queen of slap-stick.

“You know it would be much more efficient if I could just hop in there with you,” he joked. “At this rate I'll never get to bed.”

“I'll be out soon enough,” I grumbled. The water had filled enough for me to start scrubbing myself with the vanilla soap. I still had a few little patches of crusty dried blood on my skin, and a decent amount in my hair. I scootched forward enough to lean back and dunk my hair into the water. When I came back up the water was pink. I quickly turned off the faucet and unplugged the drain.

“I was only kidding,” he said.

“I need to refill the water,” I explained, turning to look at him. “Hey, avert your eyes!”

He looked away with a laugh. “Why do you need to refill the water?” he asked, obviously trying to distract me.

“There was blood in it,” I answered.

He laughed again. “It will be interesting to see how you adapt among the Vaettir.”

“Why?” I asked. “Do you enjoy bathing in the blood of thine enemies?”

“Something like that,” he answered soberly.

“You can't keep me here forever,” I added.

He turned to look at me, but he seemed so serious that I just hunched down to cover my breasts rather than telling him to look away.

“It would have happened again,” he said cryptically. “The taking of life is your gift.”

“The taking of life is not a gift,” I snapped, once again thinking of Matthew.

“Not always,” he replied, finally averting his eyes. “Nor is it always a curse.”

I renewed the water flow and slipped down into the tub, fully prepared to sulk. It would have happened again, he'd said. I couldn't bear what had happened with Matthew happening with someone else. Of course, as far as I could tell these people wanted me to use my
gift
, which I was definitely not okay with. I washed my hair and scrubbed my skin nearly raw in silence.

“You have lovely skin,” he commented, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You should probably try to not scrub it all off.”

“Stop looking!” I exclaimed as I huddled up to cover myself.

“I can't protect you if I can't see you,” he argued with laughter in his voice.

I smiled in spite of myself. He was being a lech, but he was also obviously trying to cheer me up. I had to appreciate the latter, at least a little.

When I was finished Alaric handed me two towels, one for my hair and one for my body. It was oddly considerate. Then again, with the length of his hair he probably had to use two towels too.

He turned his back so I could step out of the tub and dry myself out. It only dawned on me as I finished drying off that I didn't have any clean clothes to change into. At a loss, I wrapped the towel I'd used on my body tightly around me, then tapped Alaric on the shoulder.

Now, when someone turns around to see you, you usually expect them to take a step back to make room. Alaric turned around without the step back and was suddenly very close to me. His pants brushed against the bottom edge of my towel moving the fabric ever so slightly. Luckily the smaller amount of blood he'd gotten on him was already dry and didn't transfer to the clean towel.

I slowly moved my eyes upward, feeling nervous and perhaps a little bit of something else. Alaric looked down at me with a knowing smile, eliciting goosebumps up and down my arms. I eyed him warily, feeling like a deer in the headlights, but he didn't move out of my way.

“If my gift is death, like you say,” I began carefully. “Then shouldn't you be afraid of me?”

“You would bring a swift death to a human,” he replied. “But I would only fear you if I was severely weakened.” He smoothed a hand down my bare arm.

“You're really going to kidnap me, then hit on me?” I asked.

He smiled, not in the least bit offended. “I am simply letting you know your options. The choice remains yours.”

“So I have the choice of whether or not I sleep with you, but not the choice of leaving this place?” I asked, now with a hint of anger in my tone.

Alaric raised his hands in an
I give up
gesture. “That second choice is not mine to give. I would not offer you a lie.”

A subtle throbbing was beginning to grow between my eyes. I pinched the bridge of my nose to ease the pain. “I'm very tired,” I said, hoping to end the conversation.

This time when I was left in my room, I really would sleep. I felt unsteady on my feet just standing there. Alaric nodded and led me out of the bathroom and back down the hallway towards my room.

He stayed in the doorway of my bedroom, forcing me to squeeze by him in order to go inside. I half-expected him to follow me in, but he remained in the threshold. After a moment he stepped back to close the door for me, though he left it open long enough for him to peek his head back inside and leave a standing offer for him to be my “snuggle buddy”.

Yeah, I needed a snuggle bunny like I needed hepatitis.

I
fell asleep almost instantly, and if I dreamed, I didn't remember them. I woke up confused as to where I was, until the memories of the previous day came flooding back to me. Had all of that occurred in just a day? I thought about my little house, and the fact that no one would have yet noticed that I was missing from it. No one knew that I hadn't spent the last two nights safely tucked into my bed.

I was still sitting in bed dazed and confused when Sophie came inside without a knock. “Get dressed,” she ordered. “Breakfast first, then you have a job to do.”

The “job” they had brought me back for was the position of executioner. Did they want me to kill someone? “I-I don't feel well,” I stammered. “I should probably just stay in bed today.”

Sophie ignored me as she went through my drawers in search of something for me to wear. Finally she threw a pair of blue jeans and an olive colored tank top at me. Next came a clean bra, underwear, and a pair of socks that nearly hit me in the head. Once she was finished flinging fabric she stood at the foot of my bed with her arms crossed.

“Well?” she prompted.

I rolled out of bed and got dressed quickly, not wanting her to throw something more substantial than socks at me. When I was finished she looked me up and down then said, “You know where the bathroom is. You'll find a toothbrush and whatever else you might need. I'll be waiting in the kitchens.”

With that, she was gone, leaving me to fret over just what the “job” might be by myself. I peeked out into the hall to verify that the coast was clear, then hurried into the bathroom where I promptly locked the door behind me. I took as long as I possibly could to brush my teeth and put on deodorant, but eventually I had to admit to myself that I couldn't just stay in the bathroom forever.

I was grudgingly beginning to not just think about escape, but what these people could do for me. They had verified what I had always somehow known about Matthew. That experience had kept me chaste and alone, for fear of it ever happening with someone else. Maybe there was some way to control when it happened. If I could control it, I would be free to live an actual life. That was of course if I could not only learn control, but then escape my captors in one piece. The latter was seeming less and less likely.

Finally I took a deep breath and went out into the hall, heading straight for the kitchen. I could have searched for a way out again, but my last two attempts at escaping hadn't gone over terribly well. Perhaps soon I'd find out where the exit was, then I'd stand a better chance.

Sophie was waiting in the kitchen as promised, but so were Alaric and James. Sophie and Alaric were both sipping on coffee, and James had tea. I couldn't tell what kind it was, but the little green leaflet hanging from the string hinted at herbal. I liked him less and less. Sophie handed a cup of already poured coffee to me as I entered the room and went to stand by her. The division between the coffee drinkers and the non was highly apparent.

I eyed James nervously and he eyed me right back, sipping his tea with a secretive smile. The smile made me more uncomfortable than a thousand angry glares every could. His golden hair was still damp enough from his shower to leave small dark stains around the collar of his charcoal gray shirt. The dark color of the shirt made the icy color of his eyes even more pronounced.

I suddenly felt nervous enough to throw up, and had to take a sip of coffee to keep it down. James smiled a little bit more.

A woman I hadn't met yet came walking into the kitchen. She was shorter than me, around 5'4”, and had dark hair cropped closely to her head. She turned large, honey colored eyes to me and gave me a look of dismissal, then turned her eyes to James. “Estus wants her now,” she announced as if I was no longer even there.

“Looks like breakfast will have to wait,” James said to me warmly.

I forced a smile in response. I wouldn't have been able to force any food down regardless. I looked to Sophie to lead the way, but she only looked apologetically at me and nodded towards James.

When I still didn't move, James took hold of my arm and pulled me forward. Alaric watched us quietly as I was pulled away. The nameless, short-haired woman went ahead of James and I and disappeared down the hallway.

As we made our way through the halls I began to suspect that we were going to the room where I'd been attacked by the hand. Call it intuition, but I had a feeling that perhaps that was a room that James frequented. The feeling increased as we approached the door, but we ended up going past it and into the room directly after it.

This new room was cleaner than the one I'd visited, but just barely. This room also had a full man, and not just a hand. The man hung limp from a set of manacles hammered into the wall. His chest was bare except for a decoration of deep cuts and bruises across his tanned skin. Blood had soaked into his blue jeans staining the fabric

The man looked up from under sweat-matted hair as we entered the room. At first his look was numb, but as he noticed me his eyes widened. He began to struggle against the manacles. As he thrashed about I noticed that he was missing an ear. All that was left in it's place was a bloody hole.