Bloodlust | lrh

7. The wall

Soka hopes that her new sleeping arrangement will be permanent, but she knows deep down that one night is all she's promised. There's still so much work to be done, and Luke has every plan of finishing the job. She's still got a fire in her, and he needs it to go out.

She doesn't know what time it is when she wakes up, but she knows it's early when the house is eerily quiet. The thought of Luke's tattoos comes back to her mind as it slowly starts to wake up. She wants to know where he came from, because it certainly wasn't Chemin.

No one is stirring downstairs, she glances through every open doorway to make sure of that. She goes to open one of the doors that is always locked when Luke is away, shocked to find that the door knob turns. Her feet carry her inside before her brain can tell her not to, eyes scanning the room that appears to be an office.

Guns are on display on the back wall behind the desk, but they don't look like they're in use anymore. Each one has a name under it, making Soka wonder what exactly they are. She doesn't put the pieces together that they're retired, each one serving a very particular purpose. She's stumbled across Luke's trophy collection.

The girl is too invested in what's in front of her to think twice about snooping. The drawers in the desk entice her, her surprisingly steady hands carefully opening the bottom one first. There's a wooden box inside that's begging to be cracked open. A pile of rings sits messily inside, even a necklace is tangled around them. Behind the box is a baggie filled with keys.

An indescribable feeling settles in the pit of Soka's stomach. Something doesn't sit right about this, and when she finally picks up one of the rings she gets a cold sensation all over her body. It's engraved with a girl's name, Meera. Another says Joanna. The rest are blank, but still feminine. She can't help but feel like something horrible has happened to the women these rings used to belong to, something even worse than what she herself is going through.

Her now shaky hands carefully close the drawer, being cautious not to make any noise. She reaches for the bottom drawer on the other side, but something in her tells her not to. The boy has something tucked away in there, and she can feel it without even seeing it. An envelope lays alone on the bottom of the drawer, it doesn't look like there's anything inside.

Soka gently picks it up, a small square popping out at her as soon as she lifts the flap open. It's a photograph, but not like the ones she's seen in books.

It's worn and slightly discolored, but it's from after the eruption. A gorgeous woman stands with a grin that's brighter than the stars, a very small child on her hip. The boy is blond, blue eyed. She knows the child is Luke. They're standing in front of a building marked by G.G.S., it's the Global Governing System headquarters in Los Angeles. That city is one of the few places on the planet that stayed even remotely similar to its time before the eruption.

It's the confirmation Soka wanted that Luke is a capitol baby. She wonders how he got to the outer rim, to Chemin. He obviously has a family, or had, the girl isn't sure of their whereabouts now. Right as the drawer closes, she hears the creak of the door opening. To say she is petrified would be an understatement, the girl's body turns to stone.

Luke steps into the room, hands crossed behind his back. She doesn't know what to do, so she stays absolutely still with her eyes on the floor in front of her. The tall blond slams his gun on the desk, his hand still on it as he leans over.

"We're going for a ride." He nods his head to the door, the girl quickly getting the hint to get the hell out of his office. Luke can feel rage radiating out of his finger tips, but he tries his best to keep it at bay until he can get the girl where he wants her to go.

He doesn't bother waking his drivers, he just grabs the keys and hops into the driver's seat. Soka watches him with worry, unsure of how well driving and impulsivity mix. The car ride is quiet, long. They don't drive into the city like they did last time, instead heading away into the hills. The sheltered girl has never been this far before.