28. Chloe
Twenty-Eight
Chloe
Staring into Ambrose’s blood-red eyes, I try to prepare myself for what’s to come. We’re about to teleport into the middle of a viper’s nest. We have no clue where we’ll end up or who we’ll face when we arrive.
I don’t have any true control or mastery over my powers. Everything is still very new to me. I feel like a newborn fawn just finding her legs. I’m simply going with my gut and following my instincts.
Instincts that might be completely wrong. This could all be futile and for naught…
Yet the most pressing thing on my mind is how I’m going to survive touching Ambrose without losing my shit.
Sensing my distress, Ambrose stiffens and his gaze fills with remorse when I hold my hand out to him. “I’m sorry, Mother. If you’d prefer not to do this, I’m sure we can think of another way.”
It’s tempting, so very tempting, to admit that I can’t do this. Not because I lack the capability, but because I loathe his nearness.
If anything, as I’ve come to better know Ambrose, the pain I feel in his presence has grown worse. Out of all of Asher’s children, he feels the most. He seems far from lucid the majority of the time, but he’s actually quite grounded.
He sees easily what others overlook.
He feels what others cannot.
His wisdom and perception know no equal, going beyond the boundaries of the here and now.
The others might not be fully aware of it, seeing only their worst nightmare in the flesh, but Asher subconsciously recognizes his worth. Often turning to Ambrose for advice.
All because half of Ambrose’s soul was murdered.
He should be dead.
At the very least, he should be trapped inside a mental prison of rage and madness for eternity.
But he’s standing patiently in front of me, willing to risk what life he has left to protect me and help save Raphael’s Marked.
Over the past couple of days, I’ve come to understand Ambrose almost as much as I understand Asher. I don’t know if it’s because I’m able to feel everyone’s emotions and sense the direction of their thoughts, but we have developed a strong connection.
A connection almost as strong as the bond.
At times, I truly wish I could soothe all his hurts.
I wish I could pull him into my arms and hug his broken pieces back together.
I wish I could give him back his mate.
But there’s no fixing what’s been done. Dead is dead when it comes to humans. There is no coming back. His Marked is lost forever.
And I’m wasting time getting melancholy over it. Raphael’s Marked is still very much alive and she needs us.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I shove my arm out more, willing Ambrose to take it.
I can do this.
If he can live every day in misery, I can survive a few measly seconds.
Ambrose looks at my hand in surprise. “Mother? Are you sure? I know my touch pains you.”
My heart breaks just a little bit more for him but I force a smile. “I’m sure.”
When he still hesitates to touch me, every fractured shard of his broken soul revolting at the thought of causing me distress, I make a grab for his hand.
The second our skin touches a cold, electric bolt of sensation shoots up my arm, radiating through my shoulder.
The pain is what I imagine the start of a heart attack might feel like.
Gritting my teeth through the throbbing ache, I clamp my fingers around his as he tries to yank himself out of my grasp.
“Ambrose, you’ve been bugging me for days to do this,” I grind out.
Instantly stilling, he tips his head to the side in confusion, his white hair fanning out around his too-pale face. “I have?”
Truly smiling now at catching him by surprise, even though my own soul is screaming out in alarm, I huff out, “Yes, so stop fighting me and let’s dance.”
I’ve never danced before, but I’ve seen plenty of movies. I understand the basic concept of it.
Tugging Ambrose closer, I place my other hand on his shoulder and lift the hand I’m holding.
Eyes growing wide, Ambrose stares at me in astonishment before a grin stretches across his lips.
Guiding my hand into the right position, he takes a step forward, forcing me to take a step back.
After another step, I somehow pick up the rhythm he desires, anticipating his next step.
As he takes a sweeping step to the side, I can’t help but remember how easily Charity moved with him, feeling myself do the same.
Spinning me around, Ambrose slightly dips me back, and I laugh. Then he pulls me up and twirls me in circles.
Getting lost in the rhythm, I forget for a moment that we’re supposed to be heading into unknown peril, losing myself to the invisible melody.
When he suddenly yanks me close, the music… the beat of… something… thrums in my ears. Emanating from somewhere between us.
Grip tightening on me, Ambrose begins to spin me faster.
As the world blurs around me, the music flowing between us grows louder and louder.
Colors… bright pinks, yellows, purples, and clouds of black flash in front of my eyes.
Finding the black clouds out of place, I begin to will them away.
The puffs of fuzzy ink swell up then shrink out of existence.
More and more colors appear, drawing all my attention, and making the black clouds go away becomes a sort of game.
Almost gleefully, I pop them, feeling a visceral sort of joy as they shatter.
I become so lost in what I’m doing, it’s not until Ambrose gasps, “Mother,” that I remember why we’re dancing.
Ambrose stumbles, pulling on me.
Nearly tripping into him, everything slips away.
The world rushes around us as I somehow defy the rules of space and time, but when we finally snap in place I only feel a little disoriented.
All the practicing I did earlier with Asher paying off and making the whole thing not seem so jarring.
Ambrose yanks his hand out of mine, and I open my eyes.
Where are you? Asher asks at once through the bond.
Blinking against all the dust we’ve disturbed, I nearly giggle as I take in what surrounds us. In a broom closet.
I’m immediately filled with a sense of relief. Asher’s relief. He’s been trying to hide his emotions from me, but I’m getting better at slipping past his defenses without him knowing.
He doesn’t want me to know how hard he’s fighting against his own instincts.
Instincts that demand he shelter me in a bubble to protect me.
If he didn’t think it would slowly kill my soul, he’d clip my wings and keep me locked in a cage. Only taking me out when he wants to play.
Just like what the Order did to me.
But thankfully he loves me too much to do that.
What we are doing is extremely risky, but given the lack of time to plan, there is no other way.
If you see anyone besides Raphael’s soulmarked, I want you to return to me immediately.
That’s always been the plan. I’m only going to poke around if I can do it undetected. Otherwise, I’m going to vanish back to Asher’s side.
Of course, I respond as I shove the handle of a mop away.
I love you, Asher pushes through the bond, along with an explosive burst of emotion that almost stuns me. Reminding me what’s at stake. Reminding me of what I could lose if I make a stupid mistake.
For the first time in my life, I have a family that cares about me. A family that is relying on me.
I love you, too , I push back, and feel like it’s not enough. Compared to the depth of his feelings, my affection for him seems pitiful and weak.
He’s had hundreds of years to love and yearn for me. His affection only further deepening as he’s come to know me.
I’ve only had a short time to love him in return. To accept this ever-growing bond between us. To accept he is the other half of my soul, and all the implications that go with that.
But at least what I carry in my heart is real.
He’s become my everything.
And the only thing I regret is that I spent so much time running from him.
I feared death.
But it took dying for me to truly live.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to stun him in return with the depth of my deepest feelings…
Wavering on his feet, Ambrose looks a little out of it as he tries to get his bearings.
“Are you alright?” I whisper and place my hand on his shoulder to help steady him.
“ Yeeessss ,” Ambrose hisses then he sharply shakes his head. Looking at me, his crimson eyes shine with a sharp clarity I haven’t seen before. “Mother, that was…. that was amazing .”
The dancing must have truly done him good. His color overall looks a little improved. His skin isn’t nearly as pale and there’s some color in his lips.
Giving his shoulder a gentle pat, I withdraw my hand and resist the urge to shake out the ache.
“We must do that again,” Ambrose gushes.
“Of course.” I smile at him. “Anytime.”
Ambrose beams a smile full of fangs back at me. “Really?”
When I dip my head, his shoulders straighten with purpose. “Well then…”
After glancing quickly around the broom closet, he tips his head to the side, listening closely.
Figuring I should do the same, I close my eyes and focus on what my senses tell me.
I can detect several heartbeats spread throughout the bowling alley. Some steady and normal… and others sluggish and weak.
Frowning, I wonder if the weak heartbeats belong to humans that are dying.
Pushing harder, I try to sense the presence or emotions of other vampires but come up empty.
I feared this might happen.
While I can sense Asher and our children with ease, I believe it’s only because of the blood we share.
Not being able to pinpoint the location of Nikolaos or his children is going to make things infinitely more difficult for me.
Head straightening, Ambrose tugs out his sleeves and brushes dust off his coat. “I do believe my distraction will best serve us just outside this closet.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him how he knows that, but we’ve already wasted too much time.
“Wish me luck, Mother,” he singsongs before yanking the door open.
Arms coming up, he performs a dramatic twirl, dancing out of the closet. “Where is my soulmarked? I can smell her. Bring her to me !”
The door slams shut, leaving me alone in the small, dusty closet.
“What the fuck?” I hear someone shout in surprise.
“Where did he come from?” someone else asks.
“I think it was the closet…”
“Where is she? Where is my jasmine and honey?” Ambrose demands on the other side of the door.
“I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about, you stupid freak. Get out of my way.”
Afraid I’m about to be discovered, I pick a heartbeat and focus on it.
Taking a step forward, time slips away, and I snap into place in a different room.
The room is narrow and long, like a hallway, and there are several mechanical devices taking up most of the space.
I must be behind the lanes.
A few pins are scattered about, forgotten, and there’s a small pile of bodies near the door.
They’re storing their dead here…
I thought Asher said they weren’t killing people? They were enthralling them or something?
Sensing a heartbeat coming from the pile, I carefully move around the things that reset the pins.
Dumped without care, the bodies are twisted together, their limbs intertwined. There’s no way to distinguish one from another by scent. All their smells have blended together, forming a pungent perfume of blood, rot, and shit.
Some of these bodies have been here for a long time.
Their flesh decomposing in the advanced stages of decay.
So they have been killing people, they’ve just been leaving them here because they’re disgusting beasts.
My stomach twists.
This is going to suck.
Bringing up the image Asher showed me from his memories—an image of a young woman with black hair and blue eyes—I swallow down my revulsion and pick up the top body, moving it to the side.
Thankfully it died sometime recently and its skin and limbs are intact.
After checking it’s slack, motionless face, I reach down and grab the next body.
Forcing myself to forget that they’re people . People that most likely have friends and family that care about them…
They’re bodies.
Simply dead bodies.
That are soiling my hands.
The pile appeared small when I first approached it, but I wasn’t taking in account how badly they are twisted together. I have to move four bodies before I finally reach the heartbeat thumping in my ears.
The last two nearly falling apart in my hands.
Eyes closed, the human I find appears to be sleeping. Undisturbed until I lift away the mangled woman on top of him.
Then his eyes pop open, focusing on me.
“Angel…” he gurgles, and lifts one arm up, his dirty fingers reaching for me. “Save me.”
Tiling my head to the side, I wonder why he was left alive. It couldn’t have been a mistake. Surely the vampires would have heard his heartbeat…
Leaning in too close to examine him, the human manages to touch me. His dirty fingers latch onto the front of my dress in desperation, tugging me closer.
His smell fills my nostrils, reeking of several drugs and different diseases.
Wrenching myself away, I take a couple of steps back.
“Help me!” he cries, trying to sit up, but struggling against the bodies I haven’t moved. “I repent. I beg for forgiveness! I’ll never lie again!”
Still his fingers reach for me, begging for salvation.
A salvation I do not have the power to grant.
All I can give is death.
“Help me! I don’t want to die!” he cries louder.
Well, there goes the death option…
Cringing, I hope others don’t hear him.
“Angel, please. I promise I’ll be good. I’ll change my ways…”
I don’t have any time to waste on him. Raphael’s Marked is more important.
“I can’t.” Closing my eyes, I search for more heartbeats. “You have to help yourself.”
The man groans in despair as I shift, zeroing in on several pulses grouped together.
When I open my eyes, I find myself inside a bar area that’s been abandoned to time. The décor straight out of the seventies.
The smell of old cigarette smoke oozes out of the brown walls. Soft, buttery light comes from a couple of old lamps suspended from the ceiling above the bar. The bar itself is covered in bottles, empty glasses, and dirty plates.
A faint moan drifts over from the booths lining the opposite wall, and several heartbeats thrum in that direction.
As much as I dread it, the whole thing reminding me of the den, I have no choice but to approach and search for Raphael’s fated.
I cover the distance quickly, intent on checking and making a speedy exit.
Something about the area setting off my instincts…
I don’t know what it is, but I can feel the hair on the back of my neck wanting to stand on end.
The closer I get to the booths, the stronger the smell of blood and sex becomes.
This is where Nikolaos and his children have their fun…
What is it with them and booths? Does it remind them of eating inside a restaurant or something?
Peeking into the first dark booth, I see a couple of bodies passed out on the seats. Naked and covered in bites. Fresh bites. Someone has been feeding recently.
One body is a man, thickly built, and the other is a woman with short brown hair.
Moving on, I check the next booth. A blonde woman is sleeping with her knees on the floor and her cheek pressed against the cushion. Another woman, a woman with black hair, is seated and slumped forward. Her head resting against her crossed arms.
Gritting my teeth together, I step up to the seated woman and grab her by the hair. Yanking her head back, I peer into her face.
She doesn’t stir, continuing to sleep.
Needing to be sure, I pry her eyelid open and check her eye.
Brown.
Releasing her hair, I let her fall back down to the table with a thud and move on.
More sleeping humans fill the next booth, and I’m forced again to check the eyes of a woman with black hair.
Her eyes end up being green.
Growing impatient and my sense of danger increasing, I approach the last booth, determined to check it fast so I can get the hell out of here.
The place is seriously giving me the heebie-jeebies.
Four bodies are wrapped around each other on top of the table. Moaning and whimpering softly in their sleep. The way their limbs are twined together reminds me of the small pile of bodies I found behind the lanes.
Swallowing back a sigh, I try to pick out their heads, doing my best to separate their individual pieces. I see blonde hair, brown hair, and black hair tangling together.
Tracing the length of the black hair, I step closer, prepared to reach down.
Suddenly the head rises, revealing blue eyes and bloody fangs.
The vampire I was just about to check looks at me in confusion and sniffs the air, his nostrils flaring.
“A female?” he asks in disbelief.
Shaking my head no, I take a step back.
Vanishing just as he lunges for me.
“Fuck,” I exhale when I snap into place.
My blood rushing around my body, buzzing with adrenaline, I have to take a deep breath to calm myself.
That was close. Too damn close.
What’s wrong? Are you in danger? Asher demands, his apprehension making him sound angry.
No, I’m fine , I reassure him as I look around the room I’m in now. I was just startled.
It appears to be an office that was converted into a bedroom.
You are not to take any risks, my love, Asher growls. If there is danger, you must return to me.
I will. I promise, I say sincerely.
I have no desire to get caught. Especially not after what I’ve seen. Nikolaos and his children live like disgusting animals.
Who knows what they’d do to me…
“Ch-Chloe?”
My eyes dart to the bed at the sound of my name.
Pushing the covers back, Charity sits up, brushes some of her hair out of her face, and peers at me in surprise.
“Charity?” I gasp. “What are you doing here?”
Furrowing her brow as if she doesn’t understand the question, Charity frowns. “I don’t know.”
Having already made the mistake of being caught unaware too many times, I reach out with my senses, searching for the presence of others near me.
I sense nothing but the weak, sluggish heartbeat coming from Charity’s chest.
That doesn’t mean this isn’t a trap intended to catch me…
Why else would Nikolaos take Charity?
Fearing I’m missing something, again, I stare hard at Charity, taking in every little detail.
The sallow color of her skin. The murky white that’s starting to cloud her eyes.
The fact that she’s wearing my t-shirt…
Shoving the blanket all the way down, Charity slowly slides out of bed. Her movements not as stiff as when she was beguiled, but still off somehow.
When she gets to her feet and takes a stumbling step toward me, I realize she’s not only wearing one of my shirts, she’s also wearing my panties.
Sniffing the air, I can smell Nikolaos on her, thick and musky.
What the fuck has he been doing?
“I want to go home,” Charity says, slurring a little. “Will you take me home, Ch-Chloe?”
What’s wrong with her? I ask Asher, showing him what I’m seeing.
She’s been turned into a ghoul, my love , Asher answers immediately. There is nothing you can do for her.
What the fuck is a ghoul? I demand, stepping to the side as she almost reaches me. Is it like some type of zombie?!
In a way, yes. A mostly conscious zombie…
“ Ch-Chloe, take me home now,” Charity pleads and slowly turns.
Lurching forward until she’s falling into me, she grabs onto my arms.
Her fingers dig into my flesh with such strength, I fear she’s going to bruise me.
She’s already dead, leave her, Asher says.
I nod my head and do my best to push Charity gently away. Afraid I’ll break her with my new strength.
Letting out a shrill cry, Charity throws herself back at me, catching me by surprise. “Take me home, Chloe! I’ve been a good girl! I want to go home!”
“Yes, you have been a very good girl, Charity,” Nikolaos says.
Jerking my head to the right, I see him standing in the doorway.
Nikolaos smirks at me before he makes a big show of smelling the air. “I thought I smelled you, Chloe. What a lovely surprise.”
Crying now, Charity clings desperately to me.
Eyes lighting up with a manic gleam, Nikolaos says, “I’ve missed you dearly.”
Then he moves almost too fast for me to follow, appearing behind Charity.
Panicked now, I try my best to push Charity away without hurting her. But when she refuses to let go, I have no choice but to shove her hard.
Charity crashes into Nikolaos, forcing him to take a step back.
Well, most of Charity…
Unfortunately, it seems my hard shove caused her arms to rip away from her torso at the shoulders.
Looking down in horror, I see her hands still gripping me. Her fingers digging into my skin and still moving as if nothing has happened.
My stomach clenches hard and I immediately reach down, trying to pull her hands off me.
All I end up doing is disconnecting her arm from her hand at the wrist, making it harder to get a good grip.
“You broke my toy.” Nikolaos laughs as I struggle with Charity’s palm and fingers.
The blood on my hands is thick and sticky, and the damn things won’t stop moving and wiggling.
“But it’s okay. I don’t need her now that you’re here. Though, I did work so hard to make her look just like you… The necklace is a nice touch, don’t you think?”
I glance up at Nikolaos just in time to see him reaching into Charity’s shirt. He pulls out the cross he took from me and holds it up to the light.
Too late, I try to look away.