Volumes of the Vemreaux Complete Collection: A Dystopian Adventure Trilogy Read online

  Volumes of the Vemreaux Collection

  The Way, The Truth, The Lie

  Mary E. Twomey

  Contents

  The Way

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  1. Grettel’s Healing Touch

  2. The Blackout

  3. Temper

  4. Violated

  5. Home Sweet Hut

  6. Found

  7. The Waitress

  8. Block

  9. Passing the Baton

  10. Brother Baird

  11. A Brief History

  12. The Book

  13. Responsible Liam

  14. The Storm Cellar

  15. All the Effort

  16. Lucinda

  17. Stand Too Close

  18. Grettel’s Growth

  19. Stone Boniface

  20. Grettel’s Confession

  21. Elle’s Spontaneous Combustion

  22. One Night Away

  23. A Slight Shift of Everything

  24. Violent Butterflies

  25. Caught in the Act

  26. Closing

  27. Cards on the Table

  28. The Truth

  29. The Art of Receiving Help

  30. Stolen Moment

  31. The Last Test

  32. Deadly Deeds Done in the Dark

  33. Witness to a Moment of Weakness

  34. The Hotel

  35. Different Worlds

  36. Peace Day

  37. Parting Words and Arguments

  38. The Harsh End of the Beginning

  39. Held Together

  The Truth

  1. New Home

  2. Midnight Snack

  3. Sharing a Bedroom

  4. Baird’s Mistake

  5. Ground Rules

  6. Figuring it Out

  7. Frederick

  8. Reinforcements

  9. Killian

  10. Pillow Talk

  11. Suzette

  12. A Promise to Isaac

  13. Baird in Europe

  14. Training with Baird

  15. A Glimpse of Sanity

  16. One of the Guys

  17. Late Night Run

  18. First Kiss

  19. Failing the Test

  20. In or Out

  21. Not a Waste

  22. Baird’s Questions

  23. The Experiment

  24. Hope

  25. Brother Versus Boyfriend

  26. Liam’s Shelter

  27. Counting the Lies

  28. Frederick’s Promise

  29. In it Together

  30. Midnight Meal

  31. The Video

  32. Primping for Claudia

  33. Knowing Your Place

  34. Liam’s Doll

  35. Departure

  36. Fantasies of the Future

  37. Running With Brody

  38. Confession

  39. Black and Blue

  40. Brody’s Weakness

  41. Brody’s Plan

  42. Mobilizing Killian

  43. Avenging Angel

  44. Death

  45. Clean Hands

  46. Pulling Pigtails

  47. Baird’s Bomb

  48. Uncle, Brother, Father Jack

  49. Therapy with Killian

  50. Sam the Bodyguard

  51. Monsters with Brains

  The Lie

  Acknowledgments

  1. Manufactured Charm

  2. Wish Granted

  3. Out and About

  4. Griffin

  5. Temper

  6. Mirrors

  7. Confessions with Killian

  8. The Princess

  9. Suit and Dress

  10. The Coronation

  11. Emperor Down

  12. Caught in the Act

  13. Separation

  14. Brothers

  15. Christmas

  16. Frederick’s Fears

  17. The Return of Killy

  18. The Return of Pan

  19. Brody’s Surprise

  20. Coming Clean

  21. King Sinclair’s Offer

  22. Following Orders

  23. Therapy with Liam

  24. Night Out

  25. Everest Sinclair

  26. Killian, Unhinged

  27. Gentle Warrior

  28. Doctor Victor

  29. Frederick and Baird

  30. Baird’s Orders

  31. The Allure of Suzette

  32. Blue and Baird’s Brawl

  33. Blue Breaking Down

  34. Alec’s Interference

  35. Sinclair’s Confession

  36. Alexander Boniface

  37. Oblivion

  38. Baird’s Cure

  39. The Bad Guy

  40. A Son’s Sacrifice

  41. Games and Fights

  42. Baird’s Demonstration

  43. Friedrich

  44. Killian’s Sanctuary

  45. Everest’s Sanctuary

  46. Griffin’s Protection

  47. Killian’s Favorite Color

  48. The Job

  49. Everest’s Confusion

  50. The Lie

  51. Josephine’s Resolve

  52. The Second Fountain

  53. Shutting Down

  54. Narcoleptic Kitten

  55. Awake

  56. Baird’s Goodbye

  57. A Twist in the Master Plan

  58. The New World

  59. Solo Mio

  Epilogue

  Undraland

  Chapter 1

  Other books by Mary E. Twomey

  The Way

  Volume One of The Vemreaux

  By

  Mary E. Twomey

  Copyright © 2013 Mary E. Twomey

  Cover Art by Humble Nations

  Author Photo by Lisabeth Photography

  All rights reserved.

  First Edition: September 2013

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ISBN-13: 978-1491078167

  ISBN-10: 1491078162

  http://www.maryetwomey.com

  For Maybee

  May you be only as beautiful as you are kind,

  And only as strong as you are gentle.

  Acknowledgments

  Special thanks to Sara-Beth Cole and Matt Twomey,

  For your editing and constant cheerleading.

  And to the Write Club,

  For slaughtering my excess adjectives, tearing apart the weaker characters, and amputating whole sections that did not work, despite my best efforts.

  For all the times I wanted to shake my fist in the air at you, here in print,

  I admit…you were right.

  Prologue

  “Can’t you move any more than that?” Baird complained, his tone exhibiting its usual unforgiving tenor.

  “I’m doing the best I can!” Blue responded in like frustration as she hurled a pitchfork full of scratch onto the conveyor belt. The squishy “slurp” the slop made as it spread out sickened her.

  “The best you can,” Baird scoffed. “Is there a reason you’re lying?”

  “Fine. The best I can for how much I’m supposed to
be able to do.” Flies buzzed around them and even had the audacity to land on their arms when they were still for too long. She’d only been in Building Three of The Way for a month, but she caught on quickly. The one thing she’d not grown immune to was the smell. The sting of the warm scratch pies in her nose left a lingering pungency all day long. She’d been prepared in the same manner as every other Wayward before they graduated from Building Two, but nothing could match first-hand experience. Cows were the bread and butter of Vemreaux society, and their reeking excrement piles were the stuff that currency in the real world was based on. They’d made it sound like such an honor in Building Two. A month spent knee-deep in poop told another tale.

  Baird urged her on. “No one can see us, Blue. It’s one of the few times you can actually challenge yourself. Why are you holding back?”

  “For you. So you don’t feel bad you’re not as strong as me,” she grinned.

  Baird rolled his eyes, but refused to be baited. He was the largest and strongest Wayward in his year, and Blue made sure to remind him as often as she could that even he was no match for her. “Ha,” he commented, offering a rare half-smile. “Real reason?”

  “Baird, what if somebody sees? They’ll know I’m the…” Blue looked over her shoulder to make sure again that no one was near, and mouthed “Light.” She’d waited years to be old enough to graduate to the next building so she could be with her big brother, but since she’d arrived, the training Baird insisted upon was relentless.

  Her brother shook his head in disappointment. “I’m watching your back. You’re supposed to be watching mine, remember? The system doesn’t work if you don’t trust me. Now I want to see how much your puny girl arms can lift.”

  That did it. Being gently nudged had little effect on the eight-year-old girl. It was the criticism and direct challenge that painted defiance onto her muscles and narrowed her eyes. She shoved her pitchfork at her brother and moved to the wheelbarrow. Without hesitation, she hefted the barrow over her head, and then dumped the contents onto the conveyor belt. She looked to him with a shining smile that revealed her need for his approval. Baird kept his praise confined to a single nod of his head.

  Making do with less was a survival skill of the Waywards, so her brother’s unspoken affirmation was translated in her mind to, “Wow! I can’t believe how strong you are. I bet you’re stronger than I am, and I’m one of the best workers in the whole facility.” A thick bead of sweat forced Baird to blink. Blue imagined the squint giving way to a paternal smile. “I’m so glad you’re my sister. Don’t worry. We’re in this together. No one will find out who you are. No one will take you away from me.”

  Of course, he said nothing, so Blue pushed the dreams of how she wished she was loved deeper down into the scraps that were left of her youthful softness. She surrounded the naïveté with tall bricks, guards and barbed wire to match the barriers that separated A-blood types from the Bs. The Waywards from the Vemreaux. The Way from the real world.

  “You can do more than that,” he chided.

  Blue nodded. “Sure. But where do you expect me to find something heavier to lift?” She held out her small hand expectantly, the tattooed barcode standing out on her tanned skin. She’d already memorized her own serial number, Baird’s, and now every time a Wayward’s wrist exposed itself to her, the digits imprinted themselves on her brain as permanently as the ink that marked them. It annoyed her that she couldn’t turn it off, but Baird assured her it was useful.

  Baird shoved his own pitchfork into the pile with a steady understanding of how much force was necessary for the job. “Back to work.”

  “Let me try again,” she whined, shaking off a fly from her sleeve. “I’ll go fill up the wheelbarrow with a lot more scratch this time, so it’ll be heavier.”

  He shook his head in all of his ten-year-old wisdom. “That’s enough for now. The others’ll be coming this way soon.”

  “I hate that stupid prophecy.”

  “It doesn’t much matter how you feel, Blue. Love it or hate it, you’re the Light who’s supposed to ‘free the Vemreaux from the tyranny.’”

  Blue shrugged her shoulders and looked around. “What tyranny? They’re the only blood type in the free world. Everyone else is in work camps that they control. What could they possibly need protection from?”

  Baird swallowed his real answer and replied, “Be glad the Vemreaux all feel that way, or you’d be the object of a witch hunt. I can’t stand those stupid blood guzzlers.”

  Blue nodded with conviction. “Yeah. Stupid blood guzzlers.”

  Baird swallowed a smile at how readily his sister followed his every move. “Right now, all we have to do is hide you from other Waywards.” He cleared his throat and did his best not to look at the innocent face that was genetically similar to his. Though she was two years younger than he, they shared thick auburn hair, a peak in their left ear, and the same barely controlled temper. Yet it was the piercing, unnaturally blue eyes that gave them away as siblings most of all. He tried to turn off his heart as her vivid orbs looked up at him for guidance, understanding and love.

  Guidance. That one, he could give.

  He reached his hand down into the balmy muck with the iron stomach of experience and fished out an errant piece of hay while Blue tried not to blanch. “Challenge yourself when no one’s watching. The rest of the time, be the weak newbie you look like. Be who they expect you to be, and you’ll stay hidden just fine.”

  “I would’ve been able to lift more if the wheelbarrow’d been fuller,” she muttered.

  “That sounds like an excuse. Who makes excuses?”

  Blue’s shoulders dropped from their previous position of elevated pride. “Lazy people.”

  “And who whines?”

  “Children whine. Whiners whine.” She repeated the Baird-ism perfectly.

  “Are you lazy?”

  “No, Baird.”

  “Are you a child?” he asked, tone sharp as he heaved his shovel into the pile of scratch.

  “No, Baird.”

  “Are you a whiner?”

  “No, Baird.” Blue looked down at her tool forlornly. She hated disappointing her brother.

  “Good. Then get back to work. We’ve got to empty this pile before noon if we want to eat.”

  Blue worked in silence next to her brother for a full three minutes before daring to annoy him with her thoughts. “Baird, do you ever wish you were B-blood?”

  “I don’t waste my time on wishing, and neither should you.”

  “Okay.” Blue scooped up a puny amount of cow poop and moved it onto the conveyor belt. “It would be kinda cool if we were the ones who reacted to the Fountain of Youth, like the B-bloods. Stop aging, live an extra hundred twenty years.” Distracted by her daydream, Blue hefted too large a pile for her slight size. Baird cleared his throat, and Blue remembered the façade. She dropped half the excrement back to the grass and sighed. “Beats shoveling scratch in a work camp.”

  “Yeah. Except for that little tradeoff of the hankering for O-type human blood.”

  “Right. Except for that.”

  Four boys came out to the yard with pitchforks in hand to attend to the pile of scratch several meters from them. Two were older and two were Blue’s age. It would be a while before the eight-year-olds could be expected to be left on their own to work in the field, so all those in Blue’s year had a guide. Blue clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth twice to signal to her brother that they were no longer alone. Baird returned the signal to indicate that he’d heard and watched out of the corner of his eye to make sure that his sister went back to pretending to struggle with meager scoops of scratch.

  “Hey, Baird. How’s the fledgling working out?” Androo asked.

  “Fine,” Baird made it a point not to invite conversation.

  This did not deter Androo. He elbowed the boy next to him and grinned. “Barnafer here’s doing okay. Just needs to stop staring at the pretty girls and concentrate on hi
s work, you know?”

  Barnafer blushed and kept his head down.

  Baird’s knuckles tightened around his shovel, but he kept working as if no one had spoken.

  Once the boys were out of hearing range, Blue mumbled, “Clear.”

  “Come here,” Baird ordered. He bent down and picked up a clump of acrid scratch that squished in his fingers.

  Blue stood before him obediently, and did not pull away when her brother smeared the filth on her forehead and cheeks. She did not blink when the stench threatened to make her eyes water, nor did her lip quiver as she fought down the urge to vomit. Disgust and mortification lacerated where the scratch marked her, but she did not dare question Baird.

  He had a plan. He always had a plan.

  When she’d been marked up to his satisfaction, he nodded for her to get back to work. “That’s better,” he commented. “Can’t afford to have guys looking at you. Best put a stop to that early on. Don’t worry. No one’ll pay attention to you now. You’re disgusting.”

  Blue could tell by his tone that his words were meant to be comforting, or at the very least, reassuring. Secrecy was paramount, given her extraordinary abilities. However, his last sentence punched her chest and sunk down into her gut, making her stomach turn. She was utterly grotesque, and now she would be reminded of that fact all day by the inescapable stink of scratch right next to her nose. The flies that plagued her legs and arms would now venture to her face and make their presence constantly known. Blue swallowed the inexcusable lump in her throat and wished for invisibility, so she could disappear from the world completely.

  1

  Grettel’s Healing Touch

  Six Years Later

  “Can I go now?” Baird asked impatiently. He loathed the stench of antiseptic, and it permeated every breath. He’d been sitting on the paper-covered patient’s table for twenty-five minutes. He glanced out the window and watched his sister muck scratch. If he had not been so predisposed to focus on her training, he might not have noticed her at all. She kept her head down and made sure she had scratch marking her arms, legs and face. Six years passed since she’d joined him in Building Three, and he couldn’t have been prouder of her progress. Of course, he would never tell her that. No sense in spoiling her.