This Is Where I Want To Be

59. Liv From Palmyra

Sita

The holding cell I was stuck in couldn't be called a prison. It was so luxurious that it was nicer than some places I had stayed at over those last few months. Our old house that Chris and I bought sold quickly. It didn't leave me with much money. I couldn't really afford to live like I would have wanted to. Marcus had me tied to a chair for two weeks and another two in that cell. How did I end up there?

It was all because I had left my grandfather to go out on my own. I had to sleep in my car. I wasn't afraid, but I wouldn't have been able to take on armed men or a group if they found me. So, I sat up most nights, checking if sending my CV out to schools yielded any fruit. I had become desperate. At around two one morning, a white figure landed outside my window. Well, a guy with all-white clothes on. I had heard about them. My logic told me that he would be friendly. I opened the door. He introduced himself rather nicely, keeping his distance. "Hi. My name is Brendon. I've been your Watcher since you were born. I want to offer you a place to stay for the foreseeable future... They got me in a hotel room where I can monitor you, and there is a room vacant next door." Brendon got in my car, and I got a decent place to stay. After a month of seeing each other daily, he showed me a plan he had been working on. Brendon could see that I wasn't getting back on my feet. It was not as easy in the big city as I had thought. I could have made it if I had never married Chris. The regret of losing my life in that small town fueled me. Juliet, being the reason, made me say yes immediately.

I felt terrible thinking about Brendon. His head had that massive hole right through it. The blood behind him on the wall. Brendon was too emotionally involved. It was written all over his face that night outside my car. Even I was surprised by Chris's acting skills. So I couldn't really blame Brendon. I was compensated handsomely to "get the job done." That stupid idiot would have caved eventually when Chris pretended for the second time. Or if I was tied to that chair for only five minutes. But regardless, Brendon's plan had worked. I was noticed by the powers to be. If all worked out, I could get off the planet... Where I meant nothing... Was nothing. Going to a place that valued women more than men. Even just the idea made me want to do anything I could to go. What we didn't plan on was Marcus. I knew he was behind everything Chris had done. It made me livid. Them working together, treating me like that. Unfortunately for them, they didn't kill me. So, for a month. I had nothing but time, planning, and ready to launch another attack, destroying their little world. Brendon had given me so much information that I felt powerful. All he had to say and show me was how happy they were living in France. In a massive mansion, and... Yes, jealousy overwhelmed me.

***

The cell was made of glass all around. I had no privacy. The bathroom had that Korean thing where the glass changed when you pressed a button. Monitored by young vampire boys rotating shifts of three. A knock behind me on the glass made me sit up. Was it food time already? I stared at the tiny woman standing behind the glass. She took off a pinned striped, white jacket with beige stripes and asked for a chair. The boy jumped up and brought her one. "Glass of Champaign, please." He nodded.

"Wait!" She looked at me. "Do you want one?" I nodded. She shooed him away. We looked almost exactly alike. Her hair was dreaded into thick, long, flawless dreads hanging down her back. Pinned up beautifully on top of her head. Jewels were strategically placed and fastened around some of the edges of the twisted strands. She had green tattoos on her left upper arm, running from shoulder to elbow, almost tribal. Her clothes were so beautiful that I had never seen anyone look that good. Stylish yet unique in their own way. The triangle of cloth that was her shirt was the only way I could describe it. Tied around her neck and one thin strip around her back. Cream colored with laced patterns and hand embroidery. A long handkerchief skirt with high-heeled lace-ups. "Sorry for the way I look. I have to be able to blend in here in some capacity. This is almost the lowest level I can accept." She said, sitting down, one leg crossed over the other. "Si...ta... You've been a bad girl... Colluding with a watcher... Your watcher. Going into business with the enemy for... financial gain. And let's not forget that you sold yourself for it... Now, the vampires won't have a problem getting rid of you. Or care what happens to you. They will probably applaud Marcus for putting you down like a dog. But no Woman on Palmyra would ever have stooped so low than what you have done... You are a disgrace to the very name werewolf. Or that's what we are called here. I wouldn't say I like the name... Anyway. They are waiting for me. I want to know what you have to say for yourself?"