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Arthur showed up quickly with other Hunters and escorted Randall and his friends to the castle. Renard carried Arabella’s delicate lifeless body, and we followed behind him. Olivier couldn’t stop crying. I’d never seen her like this. If nothing else from that night could’ve jarred me, her tears would have. Once we reached the garden, Renard placed Arabella’s body on the lawn and went inside for something to place over her. He came back with a long white tablecloth, which he covered her with. Then he came up to me, took Olivier’s hands from mine, and led her inside, away from the body.
I stood outside with Cameron next to me. My fangs hadn’t withdrawn yet and my mouth was starting to hurt.
“Hey,” Cameron said quietly. He squeezed my arm, and it calmed me down enough for my fangs to retract. As they did, my body collapsed and I fell to the ground. My throat ached with tears. I struggled to not cry. I couldn’t cry. I’d cried so much that year. I didn’t want to cry anymore. “Hey,” Cameron said again. He gently took my arms and folded me up against him. And I let it go. I cried. I cried harder than I’d ever cried before. Cameron held me close and stroked my hair while I fell to pieces on his sweater.
“I’m sorry,” I cried to him. “I’m so sorry.”
He squeezed me closer. “I know. It’s okay.”
We stayed on the lawn for what must have been hours. While neither of us ever looked directly at where Arabella’s cold body lay, it was constantly in the back of our minds.
The darkness was beginning to recede when Arthur approached us, glancing at the body under the sheet as we stood.
“We locked them up,” he said. “The rest of the turned were questioned. No one else was involved. Only those three.” I had no doubt Othello had used mind probing on them after drinking extra blood. It was permitted in a situation like this.
“Will they get a trial? Are the Heads coming back?” I asked.
Even he looked disgusted at the prospect. “No. A crime like this does not deserve a trial. They will be executed when the sun rises.”
“Good,” I told him. He gave me a slight nod, and for the first time, I felt on equal footing with him. I went with Arthur to Othello’s office, while Cameron went to his dormitory. Othello stood with the oldest of us, including Olivier. She looked how I felt. Broken, but determined.
“Sunrise is in an hour,” Othello said to us. “Lisbeth, you oversee the turned. You will supervise the execution.”
“Gladly.” It would give me much pleasure to push Randall into the sunlight. I didn’t even bother trying to rein myself in. This was not the time for it.
The hour passed quickly, and when Arthur led the Hunters to retrieve the prisoners, everyone else gathered in the foyer. The rest of the turned stood outside on the lawn, in the safe shadow of the castle. They would watch how we handled breaking the law. Randall and his two friends, Ethan and Kent came in. Arthur had hold of Kent, Olivier took Ethan, and I grabbed Randall. We marched them outside, past the crowd of vampires.
Randall struggled slightly against me the closer we got to the sunlight, but I held him firmly.
“You’re afraid,” I whispered in his ear, pushing him forward.
“Please,” he begged. “We didn’t mean-”
I turned him to face me and pulled him closer by his shirt. “You destroyed a life that was not yours to take. We respect humans. That fact is burned into our minds from the day we draw breath as vampires, whether it’s from our mother’s womb, or from a bite. It is the most sacred rule we follow. And you spit on that respect.”
We’d reached the sunlight, a line of yellow against the black shadow cast by our home. Olivier kicked Ethan into the light without ceremony, and he started screaming as his body caught fire. It took less than a minute for him to turn to ash. Arthur then pushed Kent across the line, who struggled and tried to escape. Arthur held him down as he shriveled and burnt up.
I held Randall right next to the line, as close as he could get without touching the sunlight, and I wasn’t careful to make sure it didn’t hit him just a little. Not enough to catch him on fire, just enough to make him sizzle.
“Mercy, please. Mercy,” Randall sobbed. I might’ve held back if what I saw in his eyes was remorse. I would’ve made it easy on him. But his eyes held no shame, no repentance. Only fear for his life. For his selfish self-centered miserable life.
My fangs dropped down and I scowled at him as I said one word. “No.”
I lifted him up and threw him as hard as I could. His body caught fire as it hurled towards the stone fence that surrounded our castle. He burned up just before he hit the wall, and the small pile of ashes bounced off the stones before blowing away in the wind. It was too quick. Too easy. I wasn’t satisfied. But it was done.
We turned around and faced the rest of the Order.
“This is what happens when you take a human life,” I shouted, my voice carrying to every ear. “There is no mercy for this crime. None. You take a human life, you die. You participate in the taking of a human life, you die. You have knowledge that another vampire is taking or has taken a human life and you tell no one, you die. I don’t care how old or young you are. Born or the turned. Important, not important. Rich or poor. I will throw your ungrateful body into the sunlight, or a meat grinder. Or both. There are no excuses, no mistakes, no accidents. One and done.” I wasn’t looking for a response or confirmation that I’d been heard. I marched back to the house and everyone parted in front of me.
I didn’t stop walking until I was in my bedroom. I didn’t leave it for days. I lay there, feeling nothing and everything all at once. I felt trickles of the insanity I’d felt when I was a prisoner, and I had to chase them away.
Eventually, Cameron came and brought the doctor with him. The doctor took my pulse, listened to my daughter’s heartbeat, and stressed that my mood wasn’t good for the baby. Satisfied we were both okay for the moment, he left, leaving me alone with Cameron.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No.” I didn’t feel like pretending. Not with him anyway.
He nodded and sat down on one of my chairs. “I like the new furniture. Before, your room looked like a catalog. Now it’s homey.” I’d traded my sophisticated style with earthy natural pieces. He was right, it did feel homier. More lived in. Maybe I’d leave my clothes everywhere like humans did.
Cameron sat waiting for me to talk to him. I stood up and walked to the window. It was the same view my old room had, just from a different angle. I could see the front gate and the massive stone walls. The wind was still blowing, tossing the shrubbery around, and removing all traces of the men we’d turned to ash.
“I feel awake,” I said. “Like I’ve been asleep for years and I just woke up.” I laughed dryly. “Nothing brings you clarity like pain.” I was drowning in pain. Angry pain. I closed my eyes and allowed myself a few seconds, just a few precious seconds, to miss Knight. Anything more and I’d start to break down again. I could picture the way he smelled; the way his breath felt on me. I imagined him holding me in his arms as I stood at my window.
I could even hear his voice in my ear.
“It’s okay, Lis,” he whispered against my neck. He was there, holding me close, his arms around my waist and shoulders. I knew he wasn’t real because I couldn’t smell him. He felt real, and that was enough for the moment. I put my hands to his arm resting on my collarbone and clutched his wrist like it could bring me strength. He tightened his hold on me but didn’t say more. We didn’t need to speak. Since he was a figment of my imagination, I didn’t need to tell him anything because he already knew.
Go away, figment. You’re not him. You’re not real.
My eyes snapped open and the fantasy was gone. “I failed him.”
“Who?” Cameron asked. I’d almost forgotten he was there.
“Knight. I never...” I turned away from the window. “I never looked for him. I never checked to see if he was really dead. At the time, just the thought of him gone was too painful. But now...”
“You need to know,” Cameron finished. I nodded. “What if he’s alive? As improbable as it might be.”
My hand went to my stomach. I could never face him again. I couldn’t bear to think of him seeing me pregnant or holding my child. “He’s not. And he wouldn’t want me now if he was. An unfaithful woman.”
Cameron shrugged. “You don’t know that.”
“He’s dead,” I affirmed. “But I still need to know.”
That moment, with my hand on my stomach, was when I first felt my baby move. A little sensation, like a goldfish was in my belly moving around. I gasped, and joy exploded inside me.
“She moved,” I exclaimed, a spark of happiness blooming from within. “Feel, feel.” Cameron put his hand on my stomach and we felt my baby’s little feet kick against our palms.
Everything would be okay. It wouldn’t be, I knew it. I had no illusions. But I tried to believe it, if only for that little baby inside me.
I had no idea that what we’d done to Randall would end up spiraling out of control.
