Chapter 20 #2
I want him off me. I feel like his hold is crushing me and I can’t even think.
“How do you know this if you weren’t there?
” I whisper. It seems like all he wants to do is trick me every step of the way.
He wants to control me. How did I ever let myself relax around him?
He’ll never change. Why did I ever think he could?
“I have eyes everywhere. He doesn’t deserve to live after he cut your mother apart piece by piece. First her fingers… then her—”
“STOP,” I beg.
“Get away from him,” Atticus demands, but Morpheus only pulls me out of his reach, pinning my body against his so my back is pressed against his front.
His grip on me tightens until it hurts. If he tightens any further, I know he’ll break my bones, and even though the poison is finally working its way out of my body, the bones will probably take time to heal.
“We were just talking,” Morpheus says as he kisses a tear that’s rolling down my cheek. “That’s all this was. You don’t have to get so feisty all the time. He doesn’t belong to you.”
“Give him to me,” Atticus growls.
I can’t see Morpheus’s face, but his chuckle tells me how amused he is. “Why? Afraid I’m going to eat him right up? Take him from you?”
My hand grabs for his arm that’s wrapped around me and I sink my nails into it, but I’m fully aware nothing I can do would actually bother this man. He’d heal faster than I could harm him.
“I will give you my head, if that’s what you want. Just promise me you’ll let him go and never harass him again,” Atticus says.
“Oh?” Morpheus asks, interest piqued. “You really shouldn’t have told me how far you’d be willing to go for this little pet of yours. It’s cute.”
“Don’t touch him,” I plead. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Yes, you will,” Morpheus says before pressing his lips against my ear. “Just don’t forget the way your mother screamed while Wick peeled parts of her away. But more than anything, don’t forget our deal.”
He throws me at Atticus who catches me before Morpheus simply leaves. It’s all just something fun for him, and he wants us to know that as well.
I’m shaking when I push off Atticus and start for the door.
I’ll kill him. I’ll kill Wick before he even knows what hit him. I will—
Atticus pulls me back.
“Let me go!” I snap as I shove him off me.
“Stop, you’re panicking. What the fuck did Morpheus say to you?” he asks while he tries to drag me back. I shove him hard, but he won’t let go of me, and the only place I seem to be capable of going is down as I sink to the floor.
Atticus kneels in front of me. “What did he say to you? Why did you just run off?”
“My mother,” I whisper.
“What about her?”
“Wick… he’s the one who killed my mother. There were all kinds of vampires there, but he’s the one who killed her. He tortured her. I had to listen to him torture her,” I choke out.
“Wick did? Did Morpheus tell you that?”
“I recognized Wick’s voice. I know it’s him and Morpheus confirmed it. I’m going to kill him.”
Atticus has my hands in a vise grip, not letting me flee from him while he says nothing for a moment before he pulls one arm forward and releases the other. I’m confused about what he’s doing until I feel him smash one of my tears into my cheek with his thumb.
“It’s okay. We’ll deal with this,” he says, looking unsure of what to do with my tears.
I can’t fathom he’s ever comforted anyone before.
“But if you run out there and just kill him, you won’t make it out of here alive.
These people don’t know you. They don’t know what he’s done to you. They’re going to protect him.”
I bow my head and he draws me in until my head is against his shoulder.
“Let’s talk to Casimir; he was there that day. They didn’t act like they knew each other, but Casimir might know more.”
“Yeah.”
“Stop crying. I don’t know what to do with tears,” he says.
“You don’t have to do anything. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re damn near hyperventilating, and vampires don’t even need to breathe.”
“Don’t tell Morpheus that he can have your head. I would rather you hand me over to him. It would be better than being alone again,” I whisper.
“You’re surrounded by people who care about you. Why do you spout this nonsense? If I die, you can have Johnny.”
“Johnny is scary.”
“Johnny is not scary. He likes you a hell of a lot more than he likes me,” Atticus says before pushing me up off his shoulder. “Stop crying. I will take care of Wick, okay?”
I shake my head. “No, I’ll do it. I want to make him hurt.”
His eyebrows rise and he gives me a skeptical look. “You are not made for torturing people. I promise I’ll handle it. The others are coming.” He uses his sleeve to mop off my face, then he stands up and drags me to my feet. “You’re not as pretty with snot all over.”
“I don’t have snot all over,” I grumble, but it does make me feel a little good that he called me pretty in a roundabout way.
The door opens and Atticus stiffens as I realize that they’re not alone; Wick is with them.
“Is everything okay?” Wick asks, looking concerned. “Did someone harass you? I saw you rush off. I’m really sorry if someone bothered you.”
I don’t even know what to say, struggling to find words while I try to make something up. I end up just staring at him awkwardly before shaking my head. “No. It was something else. I apologize for being rude.”
“You’re not being rude at all. I’m happy to have all of you here. Casimir was just telling me that he’s the leader of his district, and I love getting to meet people from all around.”
“We’ve met before,” I whisper.
Wick looks surprised. “Have we? I’m not quite sure how I’d miss someone as striking as you… don’t tell my wife that,” he says with a soft smile. “Where did we meet?”
Is this all an act? Or has he changed over the years?
It has been nearly five hundred years since the death of my parents.
And I suppose we really never did meet. No, I hid in a cupboard and saw him through a crack in the doors, and if my parents were the only people he wanted, he probably never paid any attention to the child who got away.
What a miserable situation.
“Just in passing. We never even said hello to each other,” I reply.
“Ah, well, I’m glad we got to this time. Come, come, my wife would just love to meet all of you.”
“We’ll meet you out there in a minute,” Atticus says. “Yorick looks all disheveled now and would probably pass out if he saw his hair in the mirror.”
Wick laughs and shakes his head. “I’m not sure how much better it could look, but I’ll see you in a few.”
Thankfully, he leaves as our group surrounds us. I stoically stand here like I wasn’t just sobbing into Atticus’s shirt and left an obvious wet spot on his shoulder.
“What happened?” Julian asks. “I was afraid you were going to run off and get in trouble again.”
“Casimir, do you recognize Wick?” Atticus asks.
Frowning, Casimir looks in Wick’s direction. “I… don’t believe so, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t come across him before.”
“Why did they kill my parents?” I ask. “You were there the day they died. Why did they kill them?”
Casimir hesitates before shaking his head.
“I really wish I could give you an answer to that, but I don’t know.
I simply did as the Warden instructed. The Warden never filled us in on anything we were required to do.
We were directed to do something… and we did it.
It’s not… What I did back then wasn’t what I should have done, but I felt like I had no choice.
I still had enough humanity inside of me that when we descended on the place and I saw a child, I knew the only way you’d live would be to keep you hidden, so that’s what I did.
I’m sure some of the vampires might have noticed you, but they also chose to ignore you. ”
“I recognize Wick’s voice… he was the man who tortured my parents,” I say.
“Wick did?” Julian asks, looking shocked.
I watch Casimir closely. “You really don’t recognize him?”
“During that time in my life… I just… I did as I was told. I don’t think there was much more to it. People came in and out of the Warden’s life, but we were rarely introduced to them. I knew Atticus because he turned us, but even he was a fleeting presence in our lives.”
“I’m sorry,” Julian says as he reaches out and takes my hand. “I can’t even imagine something so horrible.”
“It’s fine, it’s been nearly five hundred years,” I respond, trying to brush it off.
Julian shakes his head. “I… I don’t think it’d matter if it was thousands of years. If I saw something like that happen to my parents… I would never forget it. And you don’t have to pretend it’s okay.” He squeezes my hand, and I find myself staring at it.
“So what do we do about this? Should we actually do what Morpheus asked?” Ezio questions.
“No,” I say, which seems to surprise Atticus.
Probably because mere minutes ago, I was demanding Wick’s death.
“The second we do something for Morpheus, what will keep him from ordering us to do something for him again? If Wick is old enough and has a strong enough group to fight for him, we could inform him that Morpheus is trying to kill him and let him deal with Morpheus. We’ll just… hide out until it’s over.”