Hi!
This is my first fic on this page and I would love to hear your opinion :)
Thanks a lot to Too Much Chocolate for beta reading my story!
Enjoy!
Chapter 1
"Isabella!" The raspy voice of my uncle echoed through the small house, followed by a loud cough.
I was sitting in my small armchair, which was the only property I owned except for the small bed by the wall. Both things were heirlooms of my parents that had been passed on to me after they had died.
As soon as my uncle's furious voice reached my ears, I practically leapt to my feet, which almost led to an unpleasant encounter with the hard ground. I regained my balance at the last second. It was unwise to keep him waiting.
I left my small room quickly and gathered up my dress in order to prevent it from getting dirty on the floor. To be honest, this was quite unnecessary because the dress was an old one and more than an inch too short to reach the floor. However, I did not own a lot of things, and the things I did own, I treated with the utmost care.
The dark and dusty hallway was waiting for me on the other side of the door. I didn't like passing it, and therefore my steps on the dirty ground were quick, until I finally reached the door to my uncle's room. A musty smell met me, and as always when I stepped into this unpleasant room, my eyes began to water. I had to hold back a cough.
"Isabella, you goddamn brat! I'm not in the mood to wait for you!" My uncle was standing in the middle of the room, glaring at me in a threatening way.
He had been getting on in years lately, which was not only apparent from his grey hair, but also from his dull eyes and wrinkled face. He was five years younger than my father - his brother - would have been now. If he and my mother would not have fallen victim to the robbery . . . who knew, maybe they would still be alive.
Automatically, I ducked my head. "Yes uncle. Please excuse my behavior," I whispered while hoping that he wouldn't strike me.
My uncle cursed a few times, but much to my relief, that was all he did. Obviously, he had a good day. In order not to worsen his mood, I kept my eyes on the floor because he didn't like it when I looked around his room.
The reason for that was no secret. He made his drugs in here. I knew where he hid them, filled into small pouches, beneath the loose floorboards in the corner. I knew he made them, but as long as I didn't speak about it, he didn't particularly care.
I wondered to which dark corner of New York he would send me today to sell his wares. One thing was for sure: the men I would be meeting there would haunt me in my darkest dreams. However, I had gotten used to that in all the years I had been running his errands. About two or three times a month, I left our small house under the cover of darkness, which was exactly what I would be doing today too.
"Take that and hide it under your dress," my uncle instructed and I took the little pouch he held out to me, my fingers shaking.
I quickly slipped it into a not very noticeable pocket in my plain dress. I had worn this dress for five years now, but since I hadn't really grown that much in that span of time, I could still wear it. One would not call it beautiful, it had never been that, but it did the job. And the grey cloth protected me against unwelcome glances.
"A man will be waiting for you. Not at the usual meeting point, but at Chambers Street, corner Park Row. Don't get caught and bring me the money," he ordered and I agreed with a quick nod.
Suddenly, the look in his eyes turned pitiless and before I could even register what he was about to do, his flat hand connected with my left cheekbone. I recoiled with fear, but did not react in any other way. I needed to get out of here, now.
"That was for keeping me waiting," he spat and turned his back on me. "Get out now, I have work to do!"
I hastily stepped back into the hallway and closed the door behind me. Then I hurried over to the small wooden door that separated me from the alley outside.
Having arrived there, I took a deep breath. My cheek burned like hell and by now the shape of his hand probably showed on my skin. However, I did not cry, even though it hurt a lot. In the course of time, I had forbidden myself to cry because it came to nothing. Pity was one of the things that were unknown to my uncle. I simply had to learn to react faster when he called for me.
As soundless as possible, I walked through the narrow paths between the rows of houses while glancing over my shoulder from time to time. The moon was unusually bright tonight and the chance of being caught was therefore much bigger. However, I forced myself to keep calm. This wasn't the first time I had run an errand for my uncle. I needn't be afraid.
Instead of focusing on the fear, I concentrated on the world that came to life all around me. One of the few reasons why I liked running these errands was the promise of seeing the city. It wasn't especially beautiful; and a little frightening at night, for sure. However, I spent a large part of my life cooped up in my small room, which was why I always felt joyous when I was allowed to leave the house – for whatever purpose.
While walking, I thought about my uncle. He was the only living member of my family left to me and I didn't think that he had been a bad person from the beginning. Circumstances had forced him to become one, though.
Years ago, when he had taken me in after my parents' death, he scarcely had had enough money to provide for himself. And suddenly, there had been me. It was unnecessary to mention when he had started his new business. Well, one could make a lot of money out of dealing drugs in this area.
Down the alley a cat meowed and all of a sudden I had the feeling that my steps echoed incredibly loud through the darkness. I couldn't deny the strange feeling that took hold of me. Carefully, I felt for the pouch in my pocket and told myself that there was no reason to be afraid.
A quarter of an hour later, I arrived at the street corner my uncle had described to me. My eyes searched the darkness for the man whom he had told me to meet here. However, there was no one to be seen. In fact, I didn't even hear footsteps, it was utterly quiet. I assumed that the crossing streets were cramped with people during the day, but in the middle of the night they lay peaceful and deserted.
Not normal. That was the major thought going through my head. It was not normal that my uncle's clients didn't show up at the agreed meeting point. Neither were they late.
My heartbeat was fast as I made my last steps and came to a halt at the side of the road. Maybe the man was mistaken about the time? That, too, was rather improbable.
For a few minutes, I stood almost motionless at the corner, looking out for potential passers-by. No one came.
The cold night air creeped under the cloth of my dress and goose flesh appeared on my arms. Fortunately, it would be summer soon. I didn't possess any warm garments and chilblains would probably build on my toes if I had to stand here for much longer.
What would my uncle say if I came home without the money? And even more important: what would he do? I better not think too thoroughly about a potential punishment.
Just as I wanted to go back home, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I quickly turned my head around and then froze.
There was a man now. And next to him two other men appeared, seemingly straight out of thin air. I forced myself to keep my equilibrium. I had folded my hands over the pocket of my dress and its content gave me a certain assurance. I knew the procedure. Even though my uncle had only mentioned one client and not three.
They approached with unbelievably smooth movements and eventually stopped about ten feet ahead of me. I didn't even know at which man I should look first. Actually, I had refrained from making eye contact with my uncle's clients up to this point, but these three were . . . different.
Their pale skin seemed to glow in the dark and an elegant smile showed on the face of the man who stood closest to me. I assumed he would be the one to engage in countertrade. Both of the other men stayed a little behind, which made it hard to see their faces. One thing was sure though: in comparison to the men with whom I usually traded at night, these three were quite handsome, if not downright beautiful.
Sure, I didn't really know a lot about men in general because I had never had the opportunity to talk to anyone, except for my uncle's customers, of course. Still, these three had a strange effect on me, and somehow I knew that I could trust them.
"Isabella?" the first one asked and took another step in my direction. His lips curled into a pleasant smile and I nodded quickly and lowered my head. If my uncle saw me like this . . .
"Excellent," the man answered and came even closer, so that he now stood directly in front of me. I didn't particularly like his closeness. Normally, clients kept their distance from me. This night, however, didn't seem normal in any way.
"Ware before payment, little girl," the man instructed, and I could feel his breath on my face. As I breathed in, I lifted my head. This man didn't stink at all, he even smelled good. There was no trace of alcohol or dirt on him, which were smells I could often detect on my uncle.
I flinched as I looked into his eyes. They were red! His eyes - that wasn't possible, was it? Alarmed, I went backwards until I felt the cool brick wall of a building in my back. The stones sharp edges pressed hard into my skin, but I didn't really notice. The initial safety I had felt when first seeing the men slowly evaporated.
Now the two others emerged from the dark - faster than should have been humanly possible - and stepped next to the first man. They built a solid wall in front of me and I staggered slightly. My eyes searched frantically for a way to escape, but they were so close that it seemed impossible to flee. I took another deep breath and slowly shook my head. I was in control, there was no reason to panic now. I still had the drugs.
With shaking fingers, I seized the little pouch and pulled it out of my pocket. For a moment, I let it dangle between us, like a small barrier. None of them made a move to grab for the pouch though. Terrified, I felt cold creep all over my body. Why didn't they take the drugs?
A dark laughter pierced through the night and left my ears ringing.
"I didn't mean that kind of ware, sweetheart. You can keep that shit. I meant something entirely different."
Three red-gleaming, greedy pairs of eyes were directed at me, and terror-stricken, I let go of the small pouch which fell to the ground with a slight thud.
"That's right, you won't need that anymore," said one of the other men, a creepy smile on his face. "Just concentrate on us."
