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Benedict leaned against Vincent’s desk, pondering over his next possible move. He noticed the two goons who were tasked to guard him, stood close by. They remained vigilant to ensure Mr. Verdon would not be disappointed upon his return. These goons were quite different from the others he had encountered or learned about during his academic preparation to work for the Council. For one, they were quite tall for their kind, measuring around 10 feet, and elegantly dressed in tailored suits. They practiced proper manners, presented themselves as Byt and Urt, and even offered Benedict a glass of blood while he waited for the return of Mr. Verdon. Benedict politely declined, and the goons have remained in silence, as they scrutinized their prisoner’s every movement.
Benedict concluded that he could probably kill the goons. It would be quite a fight and there were no guarantees that he would come out of it uninjured. But, even if he were to successfully put down these grotesque monsters, he would still be stuck with another problem: The enchanted locked door.
That damned Verdon took enough precaution to magically seal his office before his departure. And, without knowledge of its key or runes to counteract the spell, he would not be further along with his plan of escape, and worst, he would be stuck in a confined office with two decomposing corpses. As if, the area didn’t reek enough already.
Benedict could not help but curse himself for being so unprepared and careless. He had no excuses for his inattention and disregard for his situation. His closest friend, Gabriel, had told him on numerous occasions that he should never trust the Verdons and to always be cautious when he found himself in their presence. Yet, Benedict always had a hard time believing Gabe. What Gabe constantly kept repeating just couldn’t be true. Benedict always chose to turn a blind eye, and now look where that got him.
He turned towards his captors and asked if they were mercenaries. It was the most logical reason as to why they were working for Vincent.
No response.
He changed tactics and decided to be a little blunter.
“Whatever Vincent is paying you, I’ll triple it.”
This caught the goons’ attention. They looked at one another and smiled. Good, a response. Maybe Benedict would be able to buy himself out of this mess.
“Will you?” Byt, the eldest of the goons, inquired.
“Yes, whatever you want. Gold, silver, land, properti—“
“Humans? Will you pay us in human flesh?” Urt interrupted.
Benedict frowned. Were they serious? The price to pay was much higher than he had imagined. Did Vincent make such a promise to them? Could he? Even if one was not directly responsible for the murder, they could still be tried and disposed of for killing humans. It was illegal; plain and simple. Was Vincent truly willing to risk his official position to make such a deal?
“Vincent would never promise such a thing.” Benedict replied in an even tone.
“But he has. Vincent promised us, and our two cousins, two live humans.” Byt confided.
“Female ones, at that!” Urt added eagerly.
“Can you provide us with six females? If so, you have a deal!” Byt offered gleefully.
Benedict turned away, repulsed by what he had just heard. Such distraught news was highly concerning. Where was Vincent getting these humans? Who were they? Luckily, Ally was in mid-transformation, and Benedict believed the goons wouldn’t have much interest in her. Vincent must have abducted two innocent humans to entice these beasts. Ugh. Could Vincent be any more despicable?
Byt cleared his throat, once he realized that no offer would be coming his way. “A bit of advice; you should listen to Mr. Verdon and choose your side wisely. My cousins and I will remain loyal to the Verdon Household. And, we will reap the rewards. Use your brain! Do the same and marry the daughter.”
“Soon, vampires and goons will reunite and claim back what has been stolen by humans.” Urt added excitedly.
“What do you mean by that?” Benedict asked for clarification.
Urt grunted. “Are you daft? It’s the talk of the town! We will finally put humans back in their rightful place. Servants to our realm! Puppets for our entertainment! Sport for our hunger!” Both goons shouted and grunted their approval for the bounty that was soon to come.
Benedict wasn’t fazed by their rhetoric, however. Such a change in direction would require approval by the council’s executives, which he was a member of. Since he has yet to hear about any of this, he knew that, at the very best, this admission was in its infancy stage and that he could still put an end to such a dismal reality. No way would he allow it to happen. It was as if the good ‘ol days of the Hunt was to be resurrected again. Not on his watch.
Tock, tock.
Everyone in the room stiffened. Someone was knocking on the door, and curiously enough, everyone knew it was not Vincent. As it were, he would have simply opened the door.
“Who could that be?” Urt asked Byt.
“It is too early for the master. I don’t know!”
“Should we open the door? Did Master mention anything about someone checking up on us?”
“No. This must be a trick.” Byt said as he eyed the door suspiciously.
Tock, Tock, TOCK.
“What do we do?” Urt whispered urgently.
“Why don’t you open the door, you cowards?” Benedict offered, enjoying this new turn of events.
“Shut up!” Byt barked and turned towards Urt. “We’ll just ignore it. The door is sealed. No one can enter.”
“That’s right! We have nothing to fear. Whoever it is will eventually go away.”
Satisfied with their decision to do nothing, they remained quiet, all the while keeping a close eye on Benedict. He couldn’t be trusted, they thought, especially with that smug look on his face. He could easily alert the intruder. Urt, needing more assurance, placed a steady grip on his shoulder. He tightened it slightly, signaling he meant serious business
Benedict, who took great pleasure in the goons’ displeasure, had actually no intent of warning the person behind the door. The goons were already edgy enough, and any tip-off could put the intruder’s life in danger. Plus, Benedict wasn’t all that sure he was safe himself. Him being murdered to ensure silence was not totally out of the question with these bozos. He couldn’t risk that. Ally needed him.
A few minutes had passed, and the goons relaxed their stance. Crisis averted! They chuckled in relief. At this hour, there should have been no interruptions. That was a bit close, but in the end, nothing occurred.
“Phew...” Urt added, relieved.
“I can’t wait for this business to be over with.” Byt said, loosening his hold on Benedict.
“Same. This ordeal could not end faster.”
“Now, we wait for Mr. Verd—Wait! What was that!”
To their absolute horror, they listened as a key slipped into the lock. A soft, murmur was then heard, as the key clicked into place, unlocking the door.
“It’s a caster! Chanting a counterspell on the door!”
“Urt, stand guard. This could be a trap. I’ll personally deal with the intruder.” He said, cracking his knuckles as he prepared for the ambush.
They all watched as the doorknob turned slowly and soundlessly. The door quietly creaked open, and instantly both goons dropped to the floor, kneeling before the vampire who stood inside the doorframe.
Only one vampire, apart from Vincent and Moira, could receive such reverence from the goons, and Benedict immediately recognized the intruder.
Janelle Verdon, Vincent’s wife, smiled as she quickly shut the door behind her.
