Badlands next generation.., p.39
Badlands: Next Generation Collection, page 39
I followed Bella upstairs to what was once Grimm and Arlen’s room.
She’d made the space her own the second we arrived here. The wall the bed sat against was white, dominated by a colorful Baphomet mural, the most girlie one to ever exist.
The remaining walls were a light shade of blue. It wasn’t my thing. I preferred darker tones.
But this worked for Bella, and my sister would have loved it. Lilith was as girly as a Savage could be.
Bella shut the door then turned to face me, tucking a strand of nearly white blonde hair behind one of her ears, blue eyes full of concern.
“Are you okay?”
“Uh… yeah.”
“You sure?”
I sighed and offered her a small smile. “I’m the same as I was the last time you asked me.”
“I just want you to be…” she trailed off.
“I know,” I supplied. “I want to be that too.”
“Do you?” She gave me a suspicious look, not believing my words.
“Of course I do.”
“If you say so.”
“What is this, anyway? An interrogation?” I asked jokingly. “Look, kiddo—”
“Hold up. Kiddo?” she laughed. “I’m not a kid.”
“True. You’re more of a brat.”
She mockingly pouted, causing me to smile. I should have known she would take offense to that. In so many ways, she wasn’t a little girl anymore, but in even more she was. I may have been biased though, because even when she was grown, I would see her as my baby sister and Lilith’s best friend.
Being around her sometimes made me feel closer to Lilly. The way she was thriving gave me hope that Lilith was alive and would one day be able to do the same. Hoping was foolish around here, but I had to believe in this for my own mental stability.
“I should never have let them separate us,” she stated solemnly.
“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here right now,” I reminded her gently.
“I know, but Lilith wouldn’t be alone with him either.”
Him being Samael. I didn’t know what to say to that. There wasn’t anything to add that I hadn’t already said a hundred times. He was angry and jaded for his own reasons. He’d been that way for a long time. No one noticed until it was far too late. I held no anger towards him for that, but it did nothing to change how I felt on the other matter.
I didn’t want Lilith near the deranged fucker, but in an entirely messed-up way, she couldn’t be safer anywhere else. I wrapped an arm around Bella’s shoulders and pulled her in for a half-hug.
“We can’t change what’s already happened. All we can do is keep going and strive for things to get better.”
“I know,” she muttered, lowering her gaze to the floor. “Still sucks.”
“That’s life, princess. You might as well get used to it because most times she’s a real demented bitch.”
“You sound like my mom.”
“Who is a beautiful and wise woman.”
She laughed lowly, leaning her head on my arm before moving away in the direction of her closet and disappearing inside.
I waited patiently, growing a tad concerned after a few items hit the ground. “Are you all right in there?”
She reemerged a split second later holding two garments, one a simple piece of material I’d never seen her wear. And for good reason.
I pointed, “What is that?”
“It’s a dress.” She held it up so I could get a better look.
“Okay. Why do you have it?”
She gave me an exasperated look. “Don’t start with me. I’ve never even worn it because I know you’d all have meltdowns and probably force me to wear acolyte robes until I’m eighty.”
I walked over and took both from her, hanging the skimpy one over my shoulder so I could get a better view of the second. It wasn’t bad—the color of ivory and with a cinched waist. I looked from it to Bella.
“I don’t remember seeing you in this. In dresses ever, now that I think about it.”
“Because I’m not a dress kind of girl. You see this?” She waved a hand up and down to indicate her shorts, T, and flannel tied around her waist. “This is me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I went to move back towards the hallway, but she stopped me.
“Whoa. You can’t go yet. Hang on a second.”
She darted through a different door, the one that led to her attached bathroom, returning with a brush, a towel, and a washrag.
“You’ll have to find her something suitable to wash up with. Mine is almost out. Can you handle that?”
“I don’t think that will be too difficult,” I replied, accepting the additional items.
“Good luck, then,” she quipped, planting her hands on her hips.
“Right.” I turned to leave, and this time she didn’t stop me.
The main level of the compound was still empty, Luce and Ice not having returned from their mini mission.
I knew the not-knowing aspect of this situation would drive him up the damned wall. Lucifuge always knew everything. When he didn’t, he was a ruthless bloodhound seeking every fact, detail, and rumor to dispel.
He had a talent for figuring out all the stuff you wouldn’t want a single soul to ever know. Your fears and your dirty secrets. Your strengths and weaknesses.
Romero had crafted and molded him like a mad scientist does a perfect specimen. Whispers swirled that Luce was crueler than his dad had ever been, but I didn’t think him cruel in the slightest.
He was a Savage.
Like me.
The blood of the Badlands’ very own devil and his deviant queen ran through his veins. How could anyone ever have expected him to be anything less than what he was?
I was proud to call him a friend, and Satanas had blessed me with being able to refer to him as a brother. Especially since mine let me down in every single way that counted.
I entered the storage room and flipped on the light. It was no longer dark outside, so some natural lighting filtered in through an upper window.
“Luce said your name was Star,” I stated in a way to announce myself.
“Luce?” I heard repeated softly.
I sat all my items down on one of the tables before going to the metal shelves that we used to hold various goods. I could feel her watching me from where she sat on the ground.
“Short for Lucifuge,” I replied, not real sure what the hell I was doing. I guess I hoped that getting her to talk would make her less uneasy. I wondered what Luce had said to her. I could practically feel the apprehension wafting off her in waves, and she’d been relatively calm before.
“Like Lucifer?”
I laughed to myself. “Something like that.”
I grabbed a tube of peppermint scented cleanser, brushing powder, and a wooden toothbrush.
After dumping one of the boxes from the table, I loaded everything together inside it, then went to retrieve the girl. She looked much better than she did when I put her in the kennel. There was a blanket inside now too, courtesy of Luce I assumed.
“Come on.” I undid the lock and freed the latch.
She didn’t move. I watched a debate play out across her face. Instead of leaving her to wonder what was going on, I decided to be as up front as I could.
“You can take a real shower and then I’ll find you some food.”
That had her rising to her feet. Keeping the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she came forward and exited the enclosure.
“Stay by my side.”
She nodded and fell into step beside me when I began to walk back towards the box I’d left on a table. The empty cuff dangled from her wrist, swinging aimlessly. I’d nearly forgotten she was in those. I could pick the lock to get them off, but I would wait until we got…
Where was I supposed to have her shower? I glanced down, only able to see the top of her head since she was looking straight.
We’d had a cubicle placed in the room Butcher was in, but that was only used to spray off blood if things got messy. Messy being anything from guts or bone matter.
There were a few spare bathrooms, but I didn’t feel comfortable with having her use them. It would have to be Luce’s room or mine. Bella’s could work too, but I was already imagining the commentary I’d get while waiting on Star to do what she needed to.
As we entered the main room, Star slowed. I followed the direction of her stare to the large inverted pentagram with our Baphomet’s head in the center. It hung on a massive tapestry just behind our dining table.
“Do you know what that is?” I asked, remembering Luce’s earlier words.
“Are you Lazarus?”
That was a name I hadn’t heard in a while, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. I didn’t know why a Savage symbolism would lead her to believe we were associated with them. This proved she really didn’t know who we were. But how was that possible? How isolated was the place she had come from?
“What do you know about em?” I asked, replacing her question with one of my own as we reached the stairs.
She shrugged, reaching to grab hold of the banister. “They’re private.”
Well, that didn’t tell me much of shit. I made a mental note to bring this up to Luce as we proceeded down the hall to my room. I opened the door and gestured for her to go in first.
She did so without protest, which reminded me yet again of something Luce had said.
“This is your room,” she noted.
I kicked the door shut with my boot in case Bella was lurking nearby. “What gave it away?”
“It looks like you.”
“I wasn’t aware a room could have a human appearance.” I carried the box to my bed and sat it down.
She took in my bedroom with the same curious nature she seemed to do everything else. There truly wasn’t anything that spectacular about the space.
It was once my father’s. Thankfully he’d done away with the boldness of the paint color before I took it over. That never would have worked. It was decent sized and decorated much like Luce’s room, only slightly darker.
I didn’t have the hints of lime green he’d added to his. Everything was black or gray. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my switchblade. The faint swish garnered me Star’s full focus.
She turned her head and fixed her pretty eyes on the blade. Unsurprisingly, no fear seemed to register. She simply stared. I liked that she wasn’t afraid of us. I wouldn’t have known how to deal with her otherwise.
“The bathroom’s through that door. If you want, I can remove the cuffs before you go in and shower.”
She nodded and walked over to stand in front of me, holding up the wrist still encased in one of the silver cuffs. Being as gentle as I could, I took hold of it and inserted the tip of my blade into the small hole meant for the key.
We were so close I could see all the things I’d been trying to pretend weren’t blindingly on display. Like her tits. Both were completely visible in what she had on. They weren’t huge by any means, but I was confident that I could fit them in each hand comfortably.
Swallowing, I worked quickly to pick the lock, concentrating on not taking another look below her waist.
“Was someone attached to the other side?” I asked to distract myself.
Her gaze dropped immediately, giving me the first real sign of emotion from her.
“They didn’t make it,” she answered quietly.
Her reply both interested and bothered me. I was no stand-up citizen, but chaining two girls together and dressing them in see-through gowns?
That came off creepy as hell to me, which said a lot. What was the reason? And what happened to the other one?
The cuff popped open after another slight twist of my blade, freeing her wrist and giving me a glimpse of faded bruises.
“What’s your name?” she asked before I could inquire about them.
“Cameron, but you can call me Cam.”
She nodded more to herself than me, rubbing the area the cuffs had been covering. “Thank you, Cam.”
“Wasn’t a big deal. Do you want me to carry the box?”
She shook her head and lifted it herself, staring up at me once she’d gotten a good grip. Damn, her eyes. They were a soft gray with a warm undertone, set beneath dark lashes. I needed to stop staring, but that was easier said than done.
Her cheekbones were high, nose small like her chin and slightly upturned. She looked as fragile as a doll, but I was beginning to think that was far from the case.
I cleared my throat and rubbed the back of my neck. “Uh, you can go and get cleaned up.”
“You’re not coming?”
Fifty different responses came to mind for that. I stepped around her and scooped the cuffs off the floor. She hadn’t presented the question in a sexual manner. That would have drastically changed my answer.
“I’m going to wait out here. Just leave the door open.”
“Okay…” she trailed off.
As I watched her disappear into the next room, a million questions and theories began rising to the forefront of my mind.
CHAPTER NINE
I fought to keep my breathing even, struggling to keep my shit together. Being asked about Marcy so directly was like a punch to the stomach. Losing her and Dasia cut me deeply.
They’d done nothing to deserve what happened to them. They were kind, obedient, and followed all the rules. Look what that had gotten them. Look where each of us ended up.
We’d always been the core four.
In a matter of days, two of us were dead and another was missing.
Claire’s fate was up in the air. I still had no way of knowing where she’d wound up. I was essentially on my own.
The last time losing someone hurt this much, it’d been the day I was separated from my older brother. I had no real recollection of our mother, and my father had been absent from my life since I was eleven years old.
That hadn’t been either of our decisions. I missed him dearly, but that ache had become dull as time went on.
Feeling the wetness of tears on my cheeks, I used the heels of my hands to scrub them hastily away. Keeping grief at bay was a battle I needed to win.
If I allowed it to consume me, I wasn’t sure what kind of mental state I’d wind up in.
I had to be strong for my father and the girls, and more importantly for myself. It’s what they would have wanted and expected.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I took a deep breath then let it out slowly. Needing to focus on what was before me, I looked around the bathroom, belatedly realizing Cam was letting me shower alone.
I hadn’t been able to do that, well, ever. The girls of A.R.C always washed beneath a guarded eye. Our restroom wasn’t this nice either. The asylum was so old and run down that the showers were all in need of a major upgrade. Some didn’t have hot water.
I knew everyone was fortunate to have access to running water, so I’d never complained. It was a luxury.
I sat down the box Cam had given me and went to inspect the unit.
He had one massive square shower head attached to the ceiling, and a single knob instead of two.
It was a matter of common sense to operate. Red was clearly for hot while blue was cold. I turned the water on and stepped back to let it warm, removing my ruined gown. I didn’t see anywhere I could throw it away, so I chucked it onto the floor.
My reflection watched my every move, the dirty girl in the glass as unsure about this situation as I was. This environment was nothing like what I had been forced to become accustomed to. I wasn’t free, yet I had never been freer.
I traced over the barcode that was tattooed on my hip, the ink a permanent reminder that someone I didn’t know owned me. Or they thought they did.
Digging through the box, I found most of the things I would need. It was an even bigger eye opener. It’d been drilled into my head that the people outside of A.R.C were merciless and uncivilized.
Had I encountered a group like the woman from the old farmhouse, I would have agreed.
Whoever this faction was, they were accommodating for the most part. I could’ve done without being put in a cage, but they hadn’t harmed me, and I wasn’t afraid of them. I didn’t want to push my luck, though, so I gathered up what I would need for my shower and carried it all to the open cubicle.
By the time I’d fought with my hair to remove all the tangles and figured out how to use the powder in a tin can, at least an hour had gone by.
Cam never came in or called out to me.
The dress fit me better than I was expecting it to and lacked the smell the blanket carried. The top and middle were tight while the skirt flared slightly. It wasn’t something I would ever pick for myself, but it was better than nothing.
The moment my hair moved, my scars would be visible, but there wasn’t much I could do about that.
I ran my hands over the skirt, then returned to the other room.
He was still there, lying back on his bed and staring up at the ceiling. Without having to announce myself, he sensed my presence and slowly sat up, staring without immediate comment.
I took this time to study him. He didn’t look anything like Lucifuge. His hair was a cool shade of red and his eyes were silver. The tattoo beneath the right one was the same as Luce’s, but the number of tattoos he had in general wasn’t nearly as vast.
“You look good,” he finally said, rising from the bed.
“Thanks. I didn’t know what to do with the box.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I clasped my hands in front of me, discreetly attempting to eye his body.
He was muscular yet lean. In this lighting I was able to see what I’d felt the previous night when my fingers had grasped his shirt.
His smooth skin was broken into sections of scars. I didn’t know then that they were spread out like this—one of his elbows, the back of his right forearm. From what I’d felt last night, I knew the worst of it was on his back.
The scarring on his face was harder to see, it was nearly the same complexion as him. I wondered what happened to cause this. He hadn’t reacted in pain when I touched him, but I knew however this occurred had been an extremely painful experience.
