The Holy Trinity Trilogy, Page 2

  According to their laws, it was forbidden for me to even live here. An apocalypse changes everything.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Stupid rules.”

  He shrugged. “They have protected my people for centuries.”

  “Fine, whatever. You go on protecting your Viking sex hoodoo and keep me in the dark.”

  “I’m not purposely keeping you in the…” He paused and his eyebrows rose. “Did you say Viking sex hoodoo?”

  I narrowed my eyes and snarled. “Don’t make fun of me!”

  “So, what you’re saying is, no one is actually attracted to me, hmm?” He grinned “They only want me for my long ship and battle axe skills, yeah?”

  I couldn’t look at him when he started flirting with me; it was nearly as bad as him touching me. I cleared my throat, embarrassed. “You are such a guy.”

  “You want me too, Trinity.” He spoke softly. “And don’t pretend it’s magic.”

  I couldn’t share the sentiment. “Shoo.” I waved him away. “I need to get dressed.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Romani camp was set up in a clearing, roughly the size of a football field, in the Catskills Mountain Region of New York State. The Gypsies had strategically parked their trucks, vans and motorcycle trailers in a circle surrounding camp. Outside of the clearing a thick forest kept us hidden.

  Camp consisted of three main areas, the biggest being the very center where a hodgepodge of RV’s, trailers and two and three room canvas tents were parked in neat rows, called the living lot. The trailers ranged in age and style from a typical 70’s aluminum Winnebago to top of the line Recreational Vehicle’s that could comfortably house families of five. Every home had its own small fire pit for cooking or heating water, and individual light, since propane was hard to come by these days.

  A small stream ran through the front lot that deepened into a water hole that the clan utilized for bathing. The front lot was used mainly for chopping wood, cleaning dishes, doing laundry, and gutting and cleaning the animals hunted in the area. It was also home to a family of chickens and one mean-as-Hades rooster that I’d nicknamed Frank, after my old next door neighbor who refused to give out Halloween candy.

  The back lot was strictly for fire meetings. A large fire pit had been dug out for entire clan gatherings. The area was roomy enough for nearly eighty clan members to fit comfortably together.

  Everyone was already hard at work when I left my trailer, working in sync together like a well oiled machine. That was the way of the Gypsies. Not even an end-of-the-world like assault could stop them from living their lives the way they always had.

  At first it had seemed impossible for me to fit in among this close-knit group of people, half of whom related in some way.

  I was an outsider, a Gaje, someone that they’d learned through generations of persecution, incarceration and genocide not to trust. After hearing portions of their history, mainly of the relatives lost in the WWII concentration camps, I really didn’t blame them.

  Yet, when Gerik had brought me here, no one had questioned his judgment. Jericho Popa, the Baró, leader of the entire clan, and his wife Maisera, had welcomed me with open arms.

  When Jericho made a decision it was final. He had final say and was the enforcer of the Roma Laws. Their legal structure had totalitarianism written all over it, but from what I had witnessed in my time here, both he and Maisera were kind and fair and loved every one of the clan members as if they were their own children.

  As always, when I left my trailer, part of my personal morning routine, I checked to make sure the wards that surrounded camp still held. The wards were a magical wall of protection, invisible to the naked eye. It protected what was held inside and kept what lie outside from entering. It didn’t, however, keep us from seeing the horrors it held at bay.

  Today, the number of creatures our camp had attracted seemed to have grown. I counted six of them staring around confusedly, wondering why they could smell us yet couldn’t see us. That was Romani magic for you. Unless you were Roma, you couldn’t see the wards. Those standing on the outside see nothing but an empty clearing…just like I would see if I were out there with those…things. I shuddered at the thought.

  They looked human enough. I suppose that was because not all that long ago they had been human. Then everything changed. I lost everything, my family and the world as I’d always known it.

  Two of the creatures closest to the wards suddenly bolted across the clearing toward the edge of the forest line where a lone deer had wandered. Simultaneously, fangs bared, they ripped into the squealing animal and within minutes tore the poor creature apart. Then, eyes glowing red, they turned on each other.

  They were a deadly combination of both animal and human. They not only possessed great speed and agility with heightened senses and the incredible ability to heal almost instantly, they also had the power of reason, making them the ultimate predator.

  The one and only way to kill them was destroying their brain.

  “Trinity?” I jumped as a large hand came down on my shoulder. Stefan Sava Sr., a man around the age my father would be if he was alive, was smiling down at me.

  “You’re shaking, child. Come away from here.”

  With his big arm around my shoulders, Stefan pulled me from the gruesome sight beyond the wards and began walking me back to the innards of the living lot.

  I saw Gerik sitting by a small fire near the tent where food was prepared. Made first thing in the morning and kept heated all day, it was available for the clan to eat at their leisure. I would have gone over to him if not for the prostitute sitting next to him. Onyx, not really a prostitute, had a long standing thing with Gerik. Whereas typically I find the Gypsy women in camp gorgeous, Onyx just reminds me of a cheap impersonation. Maybe it’s the emptiness I sense inside of her.

  I watched her press her tiny, devoid-of-curves body up against his in an obvious sexual invitation. For a moment I fantasized that he would tell her exactly where she could shove it, even though I knew he wouldn’t. He never did.

  As I continued to stare, I was growing more and more jealous by the second. According to Becki, Gerik and Onyx had been an on and off item since Gerik was seventeen. Now, at twenty-nine and thirty, their twelve year relationship made our couple of months look like chump change.

  I knew I didn’t have any right to feel as I did, I didn’t have any sort of real claim on Gerik. I had made that perfectly clear to him time and time again, refusing to make any real commitment to him. It wasn’t for his lack of trying. I just couldn’t seem to wrap my head around what was really between us.

  But watching him with her, seeing the hunger in his eyes heighten as her actions grew bolder, stirred something ugly inside of me. I had never been outwardly jealous of my two sisters, but being an averagely pretty girl in a family of supermodels will give you a complex whether you want one or not.

  Both of my sisters had taken after our father; Greek-born with black hair, dark brown eyes and flawless olive skin. With their slender sleek frames and legs that went on for miles, both men and boys alike had gone out of their way to stare at them.

  I suppose I was an odd mix between both my father and my mother. At five feet two inches tall, my mother was a second-generation Irish spitfire with blue eyes, flaming red hair, pale freckled skin, and a body with curves that rivaled Betty Boop’s.

  Then there were my eyes. Not one person in either side of my family had bright green eyes.

  “Ah, Trin. Looking most miserable this morning.”

  Xan Deleanu.

  The guy loved getting under everyone’s skin. I was starting to think it was his mission in life. He was frustrating, annoying and downright arrogant.

  Shirtless and wearing only a pair of weathered green cargos and work boots, he was covered head to toe in chunks of mud and bits of wood. A pair of goggles sat atop his mound of waist-length dreads, currently tied up in a thick knot.

  Xan wasn’t classically go
od looking, or quite as muscular as Gerik. His body was built more like a boxer; more meat, less definition, but raw strength all the same. He had beautiful, dark bronze skin and sharp exotic features that gave his face a hardness he used to his advantage; his bad boy image.

  “When did you get back?” I asked him. Last I’d known he and a few others had gone on a supply raid a few weeks ago.

  “This morning.”

  Xan’s dark gaze looked back to where Gerik and Onyx were huddled close and he smirked at me. I shifted uncomfortably, wanting to avoid his merciless teasing.

  “How was it out there?” I asked, curious about the state of the world.

  “Worse. A god damn ghost town full of Skin Eaters."

  “Skin Eaters?”

  He shrugged. “Gotta call ‘em something, right? But, you don’t wanna hear the gory details.”

  He was wrong; I did want to hear them. I wanted to hear everything about the outside world. I’d been in camp since the very beginning of the disaster with my ear glued to a radio until the batteries had run out. After that, I’d begun bombarding the raiding teams for as much information as possible. But Xan interrupted me before I could push.

  “Next time we go for a raid, can I get you something? Maybe some Midol? Or I could just offer my own services. It’s so obvious what you’re needing, Trin.”

  It was my turn to smirk.

  “Xan the fact that you even know what Midol is makes me happy enough. I’m feeling better already.”

  His grin turned upside down and he scowled at me. “I have a mamă you know.”

  I nodded knowingly. “Uh huh, I’m sure that’s why.”

  Xan pulled a black t-shirt from his back pocket and wiped the sweat off his face. Next, he pulled a cigarette out from behind his ear and a lighter from another pocket. He took a long drag, blew the smoke out slowly and then pointed the cigarette at my chest.

  “You’d be a worthy sparring opponent, Trin…if only you didn’t have those pesky boobs distracting me all the time.”

  I didn’t answer him. I was momentarily fascinated by a bead of sweat running down his chest; I watched it hit his rippled abdomen and dissipate into his skin.

  Xan snapped his fingers in front of my face as the corners of his lips began to curve. “You with me, fată?”

  I looked away, embarrassed. This morning’s encounter with Gerik had left me feeling quite unsatisfied.

  “You know he’s only using her to take the edge off. They’ve been doing that dance since we were kids. I don’t really understand what the hell is up with you and Gerik and I don’t really care. But if you want me to take that lush little body of yours for a ride…”

  My head snapped up. Xan was grinning at me.

  “It’s not like it would be a chore, Trin. Not with those sweet curves of yours and that long black hair …damn fată, how many times could I wrap that ponytail of yours around my hand? Five, six maybe?”

  He snapped his teeth at me and I felt my entire body flush. Bastard.

  Xan caught my fist long before it connected with his stomach. Not that my punches would have done him much damage anyway.

  “You know where to find me…”

  He released my fist with a wink and headed towards his motorcycles, his movements hard and predatory. Whereas Gerik reminded me of a large cat, his movement’s fluid and graceful despite his size; Xan was more like a bear. He would never waste time stalking his prey, he’d barrel right into it without thinking twice and his jaws wide open.

  He was reckless in a way no one else in camp was. Not only was Xan an adrenaline junkie but there was a chip on his shoulder that was dug in deep. It made him cocky, hot-headed and downright mean at times. I believe it had a lot to do with the fact that he’d been born without magic in a clan of Gypsies that held magic in such high regard. He had a Gaje father, some biker that his mother Drina had some whirlwind love affair with. His father hadn’t been allowed to join the clan and Drina hadn’t wanted to leave.

  Like the rest of the clan, he also had followed the carnival circuit. Xan had performed dangerous show stunts riding his bikes, but unlike the rest of the clan, he’d developed outside relationships with the Gaje world. He’d grown extremely good at refurbishing old motorcycles and selling them, amassing in quite a lot of connections outside of his Roma life. Some thought he might have even preferred life outside the clan, according to Becki.

  The smell of cooking meat and steaming vegetables finally tempted my empty stomach enough to bring me meandering over to the food tent. Becki and her mother, Jaelle, were dishing out stew. I helped myself to a large bowl.

  “Saw Gerik.” Becki pursed her full red lips and winked at me. Becki and I weren’t just roommates; she was the closest thing I’d ever had to a best friend. She was only two years older than me and had befriended me instantly upon my arrival. We shared a common interest in a lot of things, especially our hatred of all things Onyx. In my opinion, that made us soul mates.

  “Yeah,” I muttered. “I screwed up but—”

  “Bah!” Jaelle jumped backwards causing her enormous breasts to bounce as she spattered stew all over herself. “Too hot!”

  Taking a helping of stew herself, Becki threw an arm around me. “Taking a break, mami.”

  Outside, we leaned against the back of a truck. She didn’t say a word. That was what I loved about Becki, she wasn’t chatty and annoying. She didn’t push. She was just there when I needed her and let me come to her in my own time.

  “It happened again this morning,” I sighed.

  “Woman, you need to just let nature take its course. You’ll feel a lot better once you get it out of the way.”

  “He’s going to want more than that and I can’t give it to him. I can’t even bring myself to give him that. I’m not ready.”

  “You might change your mind once you take that ride.” She cut her dark brown eyes at me, a knowing smile on her face.

  “Ugh.” I rolled my eyes. “Clan living…” I shook my head.

  “Hey! It was a long time ago. But it was…” She grinned. “Memorable.”

  “Speak of the devil.” She nodded back toward the food tent. Gerik was rounding the corner, coming directly from the living lot.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “His hair is braided.”

  “Let it go. It’s just hair,” Becki muttered.

  “I doubt it was just hair.”

  His long, blonde hair was braided with a few new beads woven throughout. I always braided his hair in the morning and took them out in the evening; he’d had me doing it for the past two months and it had become part of our routine. I liked it, it felt…good; not just because being near Gerik felt abnormally good. I had always brushed my little sister Tahyra’s hair and styled it.

  Three guesses at who braided it today. I wondered about what else they had done. My stomach knotted at the thought of them together intimately.

  “Nice hair,” I said, without thinking about it first. That was me, always doing without thinking. My mouth had a brain of its own. My daddy always said one day it was going to get me in a world of trouble.

  He froze mid-step at the sound of my voice and turned to look at me. “Don’t start this with me, yeah?”

  Start this with him? What a joke. He’d completely crossed the line this morning and he knew it.

  I crossed the distance between us, my body instantly reacting to the nearness of him. I ignored it, as much as anyone could ignore an onslaught of emotional and physical perfection. But he didn’t, he never could or would; his eyes grayed and his face tightened.

  Willing my frustration and lust to turn to anger, I shoved hard against his massive chest. He didn’t move. I was sick of all these men and their bodies made out of solid rock. Give me a pudgy stomach to sink my fist into. I’d at least like to hear a nice grunt or something. Any sort of acknowledgment of pain. Even a little grimace would’ve been nice.

  I pushed him again. In return, he heaved forward with his chest. I
t was just a small movement, but it was enough and I stumbled backwards.

  “Is something wrong, Trinity?” His nostrils flared. “Something you want to talk about?”

  I laughed. It wasn’t a nice laugh and I shouldn’t have done it, but there was no middle ground when it came to Gerik. In order to ignore this anomalous attraction, I had to try and shut down completely. I had to become cold and distant and repress my brain’s normal responses to him to be flirtatious and sensual. It was the only way: black or white. There was never any gray area with Gerik and me, unless it was the color of his eyes and that color was for me and me alone.

  I turned to leave but he snatched my wrist, causing heat to flare where he touched me. It shot up my arm, arrowed through my chest making my breasts swell and ache, then spiraled down toward my stomach before settling in between my legs.

  I faltered.

  It took every ounce of sanity left inside of me to glare at him, but I managed it and he glared right back, unwilling to release me.

  Both our bodies were tense and strung as tight as wires as we silently fought. He wanted everything from me and I wanted… Well, that was the problem, wasn’t it? I didn’t know what I wanted. The emotions pouring out of us were already past excessive and well on their way to redundancy.

  “You feel that, yeah?” He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. His kiss was like a shock to my already overloaded system. My heart was thumping hard and fast against my chest feeling like, at any moment, it might explode.

  “That’s me inside you, Trinity. I’ve always been there and always will be.”

  I gasped against his mouth as my body betrayed me and swayed forward, collapsing against him. The electric sensations he was somehow creating within my womb spread like wildfire across my nerve endings. My insides writhed and stilled, thrashed and throbbed until the final explosion left me grasping to stay standing, fighting for breath, as it threatened to end me completely.

  Gerik held me steady against him until the quivering inside of me had subsided, and I was again able to hold my own body weight. Never mind the fact that I was still breathing quite heavily.