by L. T. Kelly
He’d positioned himself at centre stage a metre away from the foot of the bed. I gasped. He inspected his nails as if he were bored with the situation.
“I, sir, as you did,” he nodded towards Marc’s father who still held me to the ground in wolf form, “have come to collect my prisoner.”
The wolf cocked his furry head.
“She has not yet been tried for her crimes,” Bartholomew stated meeting the Wolf’s eyes.
“What?” Marc said, his voice sliced the air.
I closed my eyes.
“Oh, didn’t she tell you?” Bartholomew asked, his voice carrying amusement. “Teagan was under house arrest. She escaped. The Assembly is awaiting our arrival for her trial to begin. So, err, Mr. Romano, if you don’t mind.” He nodded his head at the wolf. “I mean, if you would be so kind as to release the prisoner to me.” He held his stance well but he still exercised caution when it came to the powerful Were. Of course, he knew a bite from this formidable foe would mean his demise.
Marc’s father stepped off me slowly. He kept his glowing yellow eyes on Bartholomew as he morphed upwards into his human form.
“And what kind of trial would this be then?” Mr. Romano asked, narrowing his eyes and placing his hands on his hips, entirely as if he wasn’t completely naked in a room full of people.
Bartholomew’s expression betrayed nothing, his expression remained faultlessly flat, as though he somehow believed he was under less threat with the beast changed back to human form. “Perhaps, the trial will be the same sort you had.” He nodded his head towards Marc, only glancing at him briefly before wrinkling his nose and looking back at Mr. Romano with a raised blond eyebrow.
“The loss to the pack would have been too great. He is the only one who can father wolves. It was for the good of our kind,” he spat. His cheeks glowed with a rosy flush.
Bartholomew nodded with pursed lips. “You’ve had your reasons and decision making, will you let our people make ours?”
He made it sound as though there was going to be a choice. My eyebrows knitted together as I lay on the floor. I searched Thomas’ face for an answer but his gaze flitted between Mr. Romano and Bartholomew. Would they really let me live?
“I can assure you, her crimes will not be taken lightly. The person whom was meant to be guarding her when she escaped is currently being held and questioned by us. We take law breaking very seriously.” He placed his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth on them as he spoke.
‘Fuck, Alex.’ Guilt and shame all rolled into a giant ball of negativity washed over me.
“Oh, take her,” Mr. Romano snapped, waving at me dismissively. “Just get her out of my sight.” He stalked immediately from the room, hopefully to find some clothes.
Mrs. Romano put her head down, reaching up to stroke her son’s arm as a sign of affection before rushing off after her husband loyally.
I jumped to my feet. “Take me, kill me, just let Alex go. He’s not to blame.” My voice was strangled, my hands were clutched together in the sort of way you’d hold them during prayer.
“I can’t let you take her,” Marc said, his voice not really conveying the sort of strength his words held. He pushed his shoulders back and glared straight into Bartholomew’s icy blue eyes.
Bartholomew smirked. I wondered if he didn’t know Marc could turn without the full moon or whether he just had no respect for him.
“Listen, pup. You know as well as I do, if we don’t take her your father will kill her. Do you want to watch her die?” He cocked his head with a raised eyebrow.
Marc physically slumped. “Can I at least say goodbye,” he asked in a small, defeated voice. It stung that he’d let me go so easily, but my head battled against my heart that he was doing the right thing. There was no need for us both to die.
Bartholomew started for the door. “Thomas, you make sure she doesn’t leave without us or you know you’re for it.” He circled a hand over his shoulder, his back to us as he uttered the words.
I glanced from Thomas’ tight expression to Marc’s wounded one.
“Did you bring him here?” I started with Thomas.
“Who?” he asked dumbfounded.
“Bartholomew,” I snapped.
“How dare you,” he bellowed, his eyes wide with fury. “How dare you question me when all you’ve done is cause trouble for me, and not to mention poor Alex.”
My gaze dropped to my feet. “I know,” I said, shame rippling through me. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I didn’t bring him here. He must have followed me. I came with Geno and Diana.”
I figured they were Marc’s parents because no one else was here. I wanted to make a sarcastic comment about how he seemed to be getting awfully pally, but given the circumstances I refrained.
I turned to Marc, awkwardly surveying our exchange.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes were filled with hurt.
“I didn’t want to spoil it,” I offered mournfully.
“We could have left the country. I could have made you safe.”
“But would you have left with me, though, really? I mean, your brother—” My voice trailed off. “All of that doesn’t matter now, Marc,” I whispered before trying to form a smile with my lips.
He rushed over to me encircling his arms around my neck. “I’m sorry, so sorry.” His voice broke as he let out a sob with his warm cheek pressed against my cold one. “I’m sorry you didn’t trust me enough to say anything and to think I’d just let you die. I love you,” he whispered, pressing his tear soaked lips against my cheekbone. His throat released an awful whining moan as the man in my arms fell away. The ripping of fabric and the shift of the atmosphere made my heart stop. I held my breath as his face turned into a furry muzzle.
“Fuck, Thomas, do something,” I gasped. He’d turned away to respect our privacy, but he spun round to see what the fuss was about.
“You’re gonna get us all killed,” I said to Marc, now fully transformed into wolf form.
He disregarded my words and bounded towards the stairwell. I flashed past him, my back against the closed door at the bottom.
“Please. Don’t.” My useless arms and legs splayed out across the door blocking his path.
He yelped and whined a little as he backed up. My head fell back against the wood with relief. I’d mistakenly taken it as a sign that he’d listened to me. The wood splintered between my legs as Marc crashed through it. Thomas stood on the bottom step, his eyes wide with terror.
I pushed what remained of the door open and sped to the front entrance. Marc was busy taking chunks out of the black paint of Bartholomew’s limo with his powerful claws.
Diana Romano brushed past me towards her son, grabbing a fist full of the fur around his neck, and started to drag him back towards the house, a steely resolve evident in her eyes and her teeth gritted with the labour of dragging him.
“Get out of here now,” she shouted to Thomas, “while I can still keep a hold of him.”
Within a second, we’d thrown ourselves into the limo and were listening to Bartholomew’s triumphant tinkling laughter as it sped away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Well, that was hairy.”
I tensed, my shoulders bunched up around my ears as his laughter rung out again.
“Pun intended,” he said with breathlessness as he clutched his stomach and rocked forward with hysterical laughter.
Thomas tapped his fingers over his mouth and bounced his knee in rhythm repeatedly while glaring out of the window.
“So, where’s your girlfriend?” I asked, jutting my chin out in defiance. His laughter ceased.
“Teagan, I don’t think you even have the right to speak. What you have put this race through—what you’ve put your maker and your friends through—well, its despicable. Unforgivable.” He shrugged.
“Fuck you,” I breathed. Even though I should have been kissing Barty’s ass, I couldn’t bring myself to do so. I puck
ered my lips. This asshole didn’t have the first clue what it meant to be me. He acted as though he’d never known hardship and he acted like he always got everything he wanted. I failed to see why I should justify myself to him.
Our combined silences made for an uncomfortable journey.
We pulled into the depressing concrete covered parking lot. I climbed out of the limo after Bartholomew and breathed in the night air wondering if that would be my last breath of fresh air.
I curled my fingers into a ball to hide the fact they shook. Bartholomew’s huge frame moved fluidly, his almost white blonde hair fluttered in the breeze in front of me, the sheen guiding me into his lair. Thomas remained behind.
Part of me wanted to turn around, embrace him like I never had, tell him I loved him for being my maker and thank him for giving me the chance to start again. I wanted to praise him for his patience, for teaching me everything so passionately and for being the most wonderful father anyone could hope for. Most of all, I wanted to apologise for everything I’d put him through. For throwing everything he’d given me away.
My nerves wouldn’t allow any of that, and such a display would surely prove my guilt. Perhaps an apology would be perceived as some sort of admission of wrong doing?
We headed down the stone staircase into the thick air below the disused warehouse. The last time I’d been down there I didn’t get the chance to remember leaving. Maybe this time I never would.
No bedroom antics with Barty this time, thank goodness. We moved directly to the door of the conference room at the end of the corridor.
The waiting vampires stopped their chatter as we entered. I stood still just inside the doorway and watched Bartholomew take his seat at the end of the table.
The other eight vampires that formed The Assembly inspected me, a couple of them tutted and shook their heads, both men and quite late turners, given away by their grey hair and deep lines etched on their faces.
The slight blonde who’d dragged Gabriella away from me after her assault caught my eye. She surveyed me with a smile. I latched on to her twinkling green eyes and dipped my head, cocking it slightly to the right. I was surprised when she returned the gesture. She seemed to be attempting silent communication with me.
“Order, order,” Bartholomew bellowed out to the members of The Assembly. They’d all quieted as we entered, so I wasn’t even sure why he’d called out. I noted that the other eight members exchanged glances as well. Some even rolled their eyes at his melodramatic antic.
Bartholomew’s eyes rested on the single empty seat around the conference table before moving his gaze to Thomas.
“Are you not a member of The Assembly, Thomas?”
Thomas stood beside me, clearly displaying his support for me. Would he never learn that I was nothing but a liability?
“I am.” He nodded his head once. “However, you are all aware that the accused is my child, and I am here to bear witness for her. It would be highly unorthodox for me to sit with The Assembly in judgement of her actions.”
A few murmured their agreement with Thomas’ statement. Victoria gaped at Bartholomew as though he were a madman.
“Yes, I see your point but it would seem wrong to welcome you to The Assembly as a new member, and not allow you to sit with us. Your statement will still be counted as will your vote.” He held out a hand towards the chair. More murmurs, tut’s and gasps filled the cavernous room.
Thomas walked slowly towards the empty maroon leather chair, even by human standards. Almost as though he expected a trap to leap forth from the seat. He took his place, unscathed, nonetheless.
“Ladies and Gentleman, if we are ready to begin.” Bartholomew glanced over the members looking from one side of the table to the other.
I straightened up a little, clasping my hands together in front of me, experiencing awkwardness from the undivided attention the ten people gave me as Bartholomew introduced me.
“She stands before us, accused of fraternising with a Werewolf.”
Babbles, hisses and heckles filled my ears. I squeezed my eyebrows together and pursed my lips.
‘They already knew this...’
Then, I tried thoroughly hard not to laugh when the realisation of what was happening finally hit me.
Everything seemed so theatrical. This seemed to be their idea of entertainment.
I glanced at Thomas. He stared at the walnut table shaking his head with disbelief lining his face.
“Order, order,” Bartholomew cried out over the crowd, only this time it seemed essential for his voice to be noticed.
I peered down at the parquet flooring in an attempt to appear ashamed, but in truth, I was trying to wipe the smile off my face.
“How do you plead, Ms. Lewis,” Bartholomew barked like a high court judge. I pictured him wearing a billowing black robe and a curly powdered wig. The vision made it harder to wipe my growing smile.
It took me a moment to realise he’d addressed me because I concentrated so hard on smoothing my expression out.
Shit just got serious so I raised my head and stared straight into Bartholomew’s piercing green gaze. A plan had formulated in my head.
‘Give them what they want, Teagan.’
“If The Assembly would be willing to hear my statement. My plea, your Lordship—” my high pitched voice trailed off.
It seemed obvious these people loved pomp and pageantry. I was going to give them exactly that. I didn’t look at Thomas, because if I had, I’d have burst out laughing.
“Very well.”
“I came from humble beginnings. My family and I were often starved almost half to death.” I caught Thomas’ eyebrow arching out the corner of my eye. That was bullshit and he knew so. My family were humble but we always had food, I’d always made sure of that much.
“I’m so grateful to my maker, Thomas, for saving me and for turning me into the beautiful creature of the night I am today. I love being a vampire. I’m so proud of our kind. Each and every one of us.” I clutched my hands over my chest theatrically. I’d even made my accent sound British, so it appeared I truly was one of them and enhancing my Oscar winning display.
A man with mousy brown hair called out, “Here, here,” as if he were in the houses of parliament or something. I recognised him as one of the men who had tutted at me earlier.
I worked the crowd. I worked it well.
“I allowed myself to be tricked by a beast.” My eyes flew wide as did my arms, gesticulating to provide drama to my words.
The Assembly gasped with the exception of Victoria, Thomas and Bartholomew.
Victoria’s eyes narrowed while Thomas and Bartholomew tried, with immense difficulty, to keep their expressions even.
“You met him.” I gestured to them with a wave of my hand as I stepped forward and leaned on the edge of the table. “Did you smell his delicious scent?” I nodded my head to express my point, my voice almost a whisper.
Many heads nodded along with me. Victoria's remained still, and her narrowed eyes evolved into mere slits.
“Please.” I laced my fingers together and brought them back into my chest in an exaggerated movement. “I beg all of you. Don’t allow me to be punished for a mistake I promise never to make again. I will never allow myself to be fooled by such trickery again.” My voice raised and filled with mock sincerity as I peered up at the ceiling as you would if in prayer.
“Ok, I think we’ve understood enough. Bruno,” Bartholomew nodded to the man seated next to him. He stood beside me in a split second, clasping his mitt around my upper arm with unnecessary tightness. He led me from the room as sighs and loud chatter erupted, each member fought for their voices and opinions to be heard. My only wish being that they failed to realise what I’d done, and that was give a sterling performance.
Bruno escorted me into a cell, and this time it genuinely was a cell, hard, cold and small. An uninviting strip light filled the room with an uncomfortable bright bluish glow.
Alex sat
in the corner on the dark grey linoleum, his knees drawn up to his chest. He took a moment to glance at us before returning his gaze back to the blank white-washed wall in front of him with his jaw clenched so hard, it very well might have snapped at any moment.
Bruno delivered me into the centre of the room before swishing out and slamming the door behind him. I settled down beside the wordless Alex, purposefully pressing my arm against his.
“Are those guys for real?” I giggled and nudged him, indicating the location of the conference room with my head.
Nothing.
“Alex, what I did was unforgivable. It wasn’t my direct intention to get you into any trouble. You’ll never understand how intense my emotions are for Marc. I can’t tell you I wished I hadn’t done it. I mean, seriously, it’s hard for me to regret what I did. I love him so much.” My voice choked and I clutched a hand to my chest in response to the ache in my heart.
“You do realise you’re not going to have a choice, don’t you?” he whispered, still not making eye contact.
I nodded pressing my lips together in a tight line. He turned to examine me affirm that I would no longer pursue the Werewolf. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. Even if Marc told me he didn’t want me, didn’t love me, I didn’t know if I’d be able to do it. How would I do it?
“What happened at your trial?” Alex asked after a long pause.
“They’re all fucking insane, that’s what happened,” I said with a smile.
Alex cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.
“What? You haven’t been in?”
He shook his head. “They wanted to do you first. They said if you’re guilty then so am I. If not, then I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Oh,” I said suddenly realising I just took a chance with both of our lives. I thought I’d better keep mum about what had happened. He likely wouldn’t understand what they were like and in turn may think I’d actually been trying to get us killed.
“Do you know how much danger you’ve put me in, Tea?” He let out a long sigh. Now it appeared to be my turn to stare at the wall. Guilt began to lick at me like flames.
