Page 15 of A Harmony of Procellarum

I think I know.

I can see the skepticism in his eyes as he regards me, and suddenly the room is a little too hot. My skin flushes as I get up out of my seat and begin to pace the length of his room. Its opulence isn’t lost on me and I know exactly why Raiden stays in the biggest suites. It has nothing to do with needing luxury. He’s needingspace. How we survived inside that orphanage was something akin to fucking sardines in a can.

“Squall,” he begins with a heavy exhale. “I know all about it. The mark on your chest, the matching one on my brother’s—”

“Stop!” I cut him off, my chest now ceasing with the effort to breathe. This can’t be happening. This is not something I want to speak about, not when Torrent isn’t here to help me explain.

“Listen.” He slowly stands from the bed, his hands out in front of him, trying to placate me. “I know about you and Torrent. I think Hail has an idea, but he’s said nothing. We have eyes, Squall. We saw how close you were in that fucking home and I thought eventually you two would just come out with it.” I can hear how he’s slowing his words, hoping not to set me off, but all I’m hearing is a loud ringing in my ears as my vision pulses.

“Don’t…” My voice is hoarse, the moisture from my mouth completely absent.

“I appreciate what you did for him there, what I myself couldn’t do. He needed you, and I will forever be grateful for that. You were his protector while I scrambled just to make it each day. I don’t judge what you guys have. To be honest, I’m not quite sure what it is.” His words are garbled, and I shake my head to try to clear the fog. I stumble backward until my back hits the wall, making Raiden stop his advancement on me.

“Victor and I…” I try to swallow past the dryness, my throat working to get the words out. “We… It’s…”

“Whatever you guys are,” he says quietly. “I think it’s the link to whatever Shereen is planning. But to figure this out, and we will figure it out together, we need to go back there.”

“No…” I shake my head, wincing when it begins to pound. “I don’t remember everything. It’s hazy.”

“I know.” He nods as he sits in the chair I vacated and leans forward. “We need to try. I will stay here with you and send the others back to Dominica, where they are safe. No one can touch them there, and Hail will be with them. Then, you will tell me whatever you can, and you won’t be afraid to do it. Understand?”

It’s the sound of authority in my leader’s voice that has my head nodding before I’ve even absorbed what he’s said. If my past with Torrent will help get Tiny released, then it’ll be worth it, no matter how painful it will be to relive.

Raiden’s piercing cell phone ring screams through the room, startling us both as he gets up from the chair to grab it off the bedside table.

“It’s Edward,” he mumbles before answering it. Edward is in charge of our estate in Dominica. “Hello, Edward.”

I watch his face slowly darken with confusion as he turns to look at me, his eyes shining with surprise.

“Are you sure?” he says into the phone before shaking his head. “Okay, thank you, Edward, for letting me know. Keep me posted.”

“What have they done?” I ask, as my heart palpitates in my chest. Edward is our eyes and ears in the Order as he has spies in each district.

“Magistrate for New York was killed last night. He was out to dinner with his family and they found him gutted in the bathroom. Sacrificed.” His skin turns ashen as he says the words, knowing exactly what it could imply.

“Torrent is the Vanquisher.” I try to find a reason why he wouldn’t have done it, but I can’t deny how much Torrent loves the hunt and then the sacrifice. It’s the only way he enjoys killing. “Do you think he’s going against Luciphia?”

“We need to get them out of there, but first, let me call Hail. He needs to get the girls to the island.” I watch as he heads into the main room, leaving me here inside the opulent bedroom of the suite. I walk toward the bed and sit at the edge, staring at myself in the darkened TV’s reflection.

“How the fuck am I going to do this?”

Loving Beginnings Orphanage - 1990 - Squall

It’s been two years of beatings and threats from Sister Jane and her friend, Sister Mary. Both of them have their eyes set on Victor, but whenever I intervene, they don’t mind including me in their abuse.

Today is Victor’s twelfth birthday and it’s anything but a happy day. His left arm is in a cast and his chest is wrapped in bandages to keep his fractured rib safe. When Sister Jane threw him down the stairs, I thought for sure he was dead, and then when I realized he was injured, my heart soared. This was our chance. I thought he’d be sent to the hospital where we could prove the abuse and beg for help, but again, I was wrong. The church provided a doctor to our home and he didn’t ask any questions as he patched Victor up.

I stood outside the door, and when the doctor was leaving, he looked at me and my very fresh black eye. Then, without as much as a second glance, he was out the door. The abuse here will never be acknowledged by the state of New York or law enforcement, but that’s okay. One day they’ll get theirs and die in an inferno of flames.

“What are you thinking about?” Victor asks, his voice cracking from puberty.

“How’s the arm?” I avoid the question and slurp on the broth we were given for lunch, along with a buttered slice of hard bread.

“Fine.” He shrugs, then winces. “A little sore.”

“Do me a favor?” I ask him and wait until his eyes meet mine. “Don’t provoke them anymore. Let your body heal. They threw you down those basement stairs, Victor. I thought you were dead.”

“You know I don’t always provoke them. They’ve been getting into the sacristy wine more often now that Father Robert is dead, and it’s fun for them to come get me out of fucking bed to tag team me. But honestly, Sval, I’d rather be beaten than endure what Father Robert was doing. That was so much worse.” I hear atskand look up to see Sister Mary at the next table over, wiping one of the younger kid’s mouth, the motion rough and leaving the skin red.

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