“You’re a philosophical son of a bitch, King.”
“Art majors are required to take philosophy,” I reply, and instantly feel a little sick that I revealed something personal about myself.
Braun instantly jumps on this tid-bit, leering at me. “Anartmajor, huh? Fancy. Let me guess, you grew up in some country manor out in the countryside, with butlers and maids.”
I shift uncomfortably. “No, nothing like that.”
“You always did strike me as a rich kid,” he says, leaning back on his hands on the grass. “That accent, and the way you look at us all like we smell bad or something.”
I roll my eyes, slamming my laptop shut and rising to my feet. “Maybe you just need a shower, mate.” I head back to the truck as Braun’s laughter follows me.
A country manor. Hardly. My heart wrenches in my chest as memory overcomes me, and I’m thrown back in time to the last day I was ever in my family home, the sweet terrace house in London with the oak tree in the yard. The last time I saw my parents. My mother’s tears, my father’s face twisted with terror. Telling my siblings to get upstairs, to not come anywhere near me. My little sister crying for me, my brother’s ashen face as he’d pulled her up the steps behind him.
I’d begged to be accepted. I’d begged them to see that it was a good thing. That I was a better person. That my life was coming together. I’d stood in my childhood home, and begged the people who were supposed to love me more than anything in the world to just accept who I was now.
You’re a monster. You ruin everything. You always have.
Thunder rumbles in the distance. The crew starts to head back in from laying the perimeter wires, packing the supplies back into the trucks. I climb into the driver’s seat, throwing the laptop onto the passenger seat. I stare out the windshield at the approaching storm, and my mind drifts to Juliet.
Because of course it does. I haven’t seen her in a few days, and I keep trying to convince myself that’s a good thing. Because I should stay away from her. This can’t go anywhere. This can’t lead any place.
I told myself over and over again that her wanting me to hold her was just fear. But as I look in the rear view mirror and see Braun pissing against a tree, I know it wasn’t that. She’d never ask Braun, or Crawley, or Sam to hold her.
No, those grey eyes looked up at me with longing. I make her feel safe.
I gun the engine, leaving Braun to piss against the tree and catch a ride back with one of the other patrols. I drive along the perimeter line, testing the sensors, and every single one throws up an alert. The system is working.
The sun is starting to lose its fight with the approaching storm as I make my way back to the compound. The gate guards wave me through, and once I park the truck, I head to the obs tower. They’re putting up fresh barbed wire along the fenceline as I pass, and the sight has me pausing to watch for a moment. This is how we live our lives now, surrounded by barbed wire and heavy gates. Sure, there’s a garden, and a forest, and a stream hidden away in the trees.
But we’re locked up.
Boston had turned into a giant walled city, and living there had been hell. I’d been allocated a tiny apartment, barely the size of a regular bedroom, and worked in a factory for 12 hours a day. After living a completely unfettered life of freedom with Margot for so many years, the transition had been a hard one. They’d seized all of her assets, which was easy since I’d been on my own. Margot had always rejected the idea of her own coven, she was too much of a loner. I didn’t mind, I was incredibly possessive of her. The occasional orgy was one thing - sharing her with someone else full time was not an option.
It wasn’t until the Affliction hit that she began to take in other vamps, letting them live with us to keep them safe. A decision that ultimately cost her her life.
After two years of that misery, mourning Margot and dealing with nights of crippling loneliness in my tiny apartment, the call went out that Milledgeville needed guards. The country compounds had been set up in the early days of the Affliction, a way to keep humans out of the big cities where the Afflicted had more places to hide, and more opportunity to attack. They had expanded, and needed more guards. I jumped at the chance.
Being out in the countryside and away from a city that had essentially turned into a giant industrial complex was better, infinitely better. But watching the guards wind out large rolls of barbed wire now reminds me that we’re all just prisoners, in our own way.
Braun’s right. That philosophy degree really does seem to be coming into play more and more.
The obs tower is buzzing with activity, screens lit up, vamps talking over each other as they try to decipher all the incoming data. Lightning flashes in the navy sky, and I just hope the grid stays stable and the power doesn’t go out. I look at some readings over the shoulders of my colleagues, and the sensors are all up. Everything looks as it should. If any Afflicted head our way, we’ll know about it.
Satisfied everything is as it should be and not wanting to be in a room of arguing vamps any longer, I climb back down the ladder. A few raindrops have started peppering the ground, the wind picking up as it drags the storm in over us.
I cross the yard, turn a corner, and am hit with Juliet’s scent the split second before she runs straight into me.
“Shit, sorry.” I grab on to her so I don’t knock her to the ground, and she inhales sharply, her wide eyes fixed on me.
“Hi,” she says softly. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, of course, I’m fine. You?”
She nods, and I realize I still have a hold of her. But I don’t let go.
“I was out checking the perimeter, making sure the sensors are all where they should be.”
“Oh. OK.” The look she’s giving me is hard to read and it’s going to drive me insane. Is she frightened? Relieved? She’s trembling ever so slightly under my hands, and I know I should let her go. But she feels so fucking nice, her warmth against my palms, and I don’t want to move an inch.