Madeline Sheehan - The Soul Mate

“You touched me.” I accused, trying to right my clothing. “Skin on skin. We made a deal Gerik: we would only do that if we prepared each other. Which…” I gave him a deliberate look. “You definitely did not.”

He didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic. He stood there, in all his Viking glory, looking as proud and as indifferent as ever. If it wasn’t for his refusal to meet my eyes, I wouldn’t have even known he was feeling anything at all.

“It wasn’t a conscious thing, yeah? I got… caught up. Don’t freak out.” He ran his hand through his wet hair and headed for the door.

“Gerik?” I called. “Do you think that maybe someone could fix us?” I braced myself for his anger. It always surfaced when I brought this up.

He took a deep breath before answering. “There’s nothing wrong with us.”

“But…it’s magic, it’s got to be.”

“Trinity,” He said, turning to face me. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you: no one cast a spell on us. There are no witches casting love spells, like in your Greek stories. And before you even suggest it again, there are no fairies either. The magic the Romani possess is ancient and was gifted to our people by Nature. It isn’t something that is thrown around for silly little things like love or lust spells. But that’s all I can tell you about it, my little Gaje princess. You know the rules.”

Yes, I knew them. Being a Gaje, a non-Gypsy, I wasn’t privy to the Roma secrets, the origins of their magic, or their true history. Unless I was allowed to marry into the clan, something that would only happen if I cut my ties with the Gaje world completely and a council of elders deemed me worthy. Then, a ceremony that consisted of purging my Gaje blood would be performed, all before the marriage could even occur…

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 pouted.

“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 battleaxe 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.”

The Romani camp was in 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 surrounded us on all sides.

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 line Recreational Vehicle’s that could comfortably house families of five. Every home had their own small fire pit for cooking, 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 which the clan utilized for bathing. The front lot was used mainly for chopping wood, cleaning dishes, laundry, and gutting and cleaning the animals hunted in the area. It was also home to a family of chickens and one mean as hell 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, working in sync together like a well oiled machine, when I’d left my trailer. 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 that I would somehow be able to fit in among this close nit group of people, half of whom were related in some way.

I was an outsider, a Gaje, someone that they learned through generations of persecution, deportation 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 it. Those standing on the outside of the wards 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, my friends, 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, sated, eyes glowing red, they turned on each other.

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

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

“You’re shaking, child. Come away from here.” With a 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 for Gerik. Whereas typically I find the Gypsy women gorgeous, Onyx just reminds me of a cheap impersonation. Maybe it’s the emptiness I sense inside of her.