Unwilling (Book One of the Compelled Trilogy 1) by Kristen Pike Page B

but he had been sidetracked by a game of cards, betting the money she had given him for food, and loosing it all, and then some. Now he was here empty-handed. Galamee eyed their empty cupboards a single jar of preserved fruit standing like a lone soldier among the dust. He was half-tempted to go back out the way he came, it would save him a headache from Miranda’s nagging at least.
    He had eaten at the card games, served by a pretty young waitress and he had tipped her well for the stew she had brought him, hoping if he threw enough money at her… well, if Jameson hadn’t demanded the debt he had incurred through months of gambling, he would be with the waitress tonight instead of this hell hole that he called a home. Miranda would just have to settle for the old fruit, he certainly was not going back out tonight.
    Galamee made his way into the bedroom, stripping off his soiled clothes and letting them fall to a heap in the middle of the floor. “Miranda, I need you to wash my clothes tomorrow!” he shouted gruffly to the silent house. Where the hell was that woman? “ MIRANDA!” he shouted, and was answered with a small thump from the second bedroom.
    Galamee’s face twisted in anger, who was she to keep him waiting? She should have been out there as soon as he came home to comfort him after the night he’d had. Galamee finished dressing in a pair of itchy pants and a cream-colored shirt. He made his way to the second bedroom, meant to be converted to a nursery whenever Miranda decided she wanted to have a squalling child. Personally, he didn’t care for children, but if it made her happy, he was a generous man… and she would do all the work anyways.
    Galamee pushed open the door to the second bedroom, moonlight spilling through the one small window. The room was empty, had always been empty, except for a new addition of a body shaped lump laying on the floor against the far wall under the window. “Miranda?” Galamee questioned. Stepping into the room, he walked hesitantly over to the lump. He knelt down next to the body, feeling for a pulse. He felt oddly detached as his fingertips brushed a faint
    Buh…
    Buh…
    Buh…
    Beneath him Miranda made a chocking sound and Galamee rolled her over onto her back, a warm liquid sloshing over his fingertips. Galamee gasped, scooting backwards on his hands and knees, away from her, his eyes wide with terror.
    “Ga-ga-mee” Miranda gasped, her fingers reaching out for comfort from him, but he only stared at her body, at the dagger protruding from her chest, leaking her life’s blood onto the hard floor. Miranda began to cry, soft tears rolling down her cheeks. “Galmeeeeee,” Miranda slurred, her body starting to tremble, “peeeassssss, hee-help mee.” She whispered, blood trickling out of the corner of her mouth.
    Galamee stared at the thick piece of paper under the dagger, PAY UP, written in scraggly writing across the surface, a smear of blood in the corner.
    PAY UP, flashing over and over in his mind.
    PAY UP, written across Miranda’s body.
    PAY UP.
    PAY UP.
    “Peeaasssssss…” Miranda gasped, her fingers outstretched. Galamee scooted further away from her, backing into a wall as though her condition were contagious.
    “Miranda…” Galamee shook his head, coming to a stand. She was already dying, there was nothing he could do for her, and she loved him, she would want him to be safe, she would not want him to suffer the same fate she had.
    “Nooo, Galmee don’t peeass…” She begged. Please leave, don’ t die. He twisted her words in his head, justifying leaving her there, bleeding out on the floor.
    “I love you to, Miranda.” Galamee said monotonously, backing away from her as though she were a rabid animal.
    “Noo, noo, peease, noo-“ Galamee shut the door on her, turning and fleeing the house, not bothering to shut the front door after himself.
    PAY UP followed him through the night like his shadow, hurrying down back alleys and cutting