Page 27 of Always Eros

Kirk returns to his seat, his face now ashen. “We had heard rumors about this. There is deviant behavior in any large group of people. Those deemed unredeemable were sacrificed.”

“Killed,” one of the sisters says softly. “They were killed. It happened to our older sister. She fornicated with another. Her body was brought to us as a warning.”

The other sister’s expression crumples. “It was awful. So brutal. She was covered in bruises. The man who fornicated with her was released. They made my sister a temptress and said it wasn’t his fault. That’s why they separated us. We ran that same night.”

James and Scott nod. “Yes. We had to participate or be sacrificed ourselves.”

I’m stunned, still gripping Scott’s notebook. People were killed. People my age. People who did nothing but be human. Now I feel like an asshole. I got off so easy compared to these people with me.

“What’s on your mind, Justice?” Kirk asks.

“I feel bad. So many people suffered, and I didn’t know. I ran because I was scared. I was worried because I had two demerits. I don’t feel worthy of my sadness. I didn’t earn it.”

“Emotions aren’t earned,” Kirk says. “And trauma looks different for everyone. Just because you didn’t experience what they did, doesn’t make yours less.”

“I’m happy you’re here,” Scott says softly. “It means people can get out before something very bad happens. I put myself and James in that position. I broke the rules.”

I nod, but I’m still upset. There are so many people still there, still suffering, still dying.

“What matters,” Kirk says, “is that you all got out. You’re all safe now. You can begin to heal, and the first step is forgiving yourself for any perceived mistakes. The rules you were given to live by were unreasonable. Love is good. Sex between consenting adults is good. Asking questions about things that affect you is good. Self pleasure is good. None of you did wrong. You were in a bad situation that was never your fault.”

After counseling, I stay outside in the yard, lying in the grass with my fingers and toes tickled by the soft blades. Tears stream from my eyes and I let them fall. I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened to me there, I’m just going to be grateful that some inkling of self-preservation bubbled up in me and made me run.

Grief and anger tangle within me, but as a butterfly flutters above me and the sun warms my face, those emotions are replaced by a sense of peace and safety. I wish I could call Eros and tell him… tell him what? Maybe I just want to see him again to make sure he’s real. I guess I could ask to use the phone, but what would I say?

The butterfly ventures on, so I close my eyes, reminding myself that Eros said he would visit me again. I hope it’s soon.

Chapter Nine

EROS

Sitting next to Hale with my notebook in hand, I try to summon the words to capture Justice, but I’m too distracted to compose poetry when I just want to see his face again. I’ve been watching the clock for hours waiting for nightfall, wondering if he’s had another heavy day, is he doing alright, does he think of me as much as I think of him. All very heavy thoughts.

Hale stirs, as he’s been doing quite a bit the last couple of hours after Viper did more energy work on him. This time though, his eyes open slowly, adjusting to the light even though we’ve kept it dim in here, and as his eyes focus on me, he exhales.

“Vampire,” he whispers.

“Yep. We rescued you. Do you remember?”

His brow creases as he studies my face. “Nathan?”

I frown, shaking my head. Hale sits up abruptly, his hand flying to his side in pain.

“Careful.” I help him lie back again. “You’ve survived, but barely.”

Bloody tears stream from his eyes as he shakes his head. “Nathan.”

“I’m so sorry, Hale. We don’t know what happened to you. Your account was choppy at best.”

The door opens and my brothers pour in, obviously having sensed the change in Hale’s condition. His eyes flicker to them, and I see the moment of recognition on his face. Hale grips my hand, squeezing gently.

“Thank you. All of you.”

“We’ll always help our kind. Can you tell us what happened?”

He nods, and I help him prop himself up in bed. Bowie appears with a tall glass of warmed blood, which will help the healing vampire greatly. As he drinks, I take in his features. He seems as tall and strong as the rest of us do, so he must have really been caught off guard. His jet-black hair is wavy and short, his skin remarkably pale even for a vampire, but that could be because of his injuries. His eyes are unique—dark, with an eerie white hue around the irises—but again, it could be a result of what happened to him.

After Hale finishes his drink, a bit of color returns to his cheeks, but the eyes are still off. “Where am I? Not Sable Cove?”

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