Chapter 23 #3
I grit my teeth and look for the next opening, knowing I’m being a fool.
I dash to the next shady area and have to stop again.
Examining the final stretch, I see that it’s even longer.
I’ll need to have both hands free to kill him, meaning that I’ll lose my shield from the sun.
If he kicks me back at all, I’ll be exposed to the sun’s deadly rays.
“Atticus,” Wick calls once he sees me getting nearer. “I need help. Fanny needs blood. I’m terrified she’s not going to pull through without it.”
He tortured and killed Yorick’s family. It’s not like the man is a good person. And soon, I won’t have to worry about him anymore. If I kill Fanny as well, I hopefully won’t have any witnesses, and Niles will be blamed for his death.
Wick is giving me a pained look, having absolutely no idea what I’m about to do. “I’m so sorry this happened. I never imagined something like this could occur. Are you hurt? Where are Yorick and your other friends?”
I make the final pass, reaching his sliver of darkness.
“Atticus?” he asks as I pick up a shard of glass then rush him and pin him to the ground. I lift it up, ready to drive it deep into his throat, and after I slit his neck, I can simply roll him into the sun.
He looks hurt and uncertain. “Why would you… are you working for Niles?”
“What good does this information do? You’re about to die.”
Wick’s eyes are trained on the shard of glass, but he’s not fighting me. He’s too afraid that any movement will toss his wife into the sun. He’s at my mercy.
“Can you tell me why, at the very least?”
“Morpheus instructed me to kill you or he’ll kill Yorick. I don’t know why he wishes your death, but you hurt Yorick, so I’ll deliver it.”
“How did I hurt him?” he asks.
I clench my jaw, well aware the only reason I’m even considering answering him is because it’s delaying the inevitable.
Because I know that the second I make this cut, I’ll just be feeding into Morpheus’s control, which Yorick hates.
“You tortured and killed his parents in front of him when he was a child. Before I kill you, tell me why so he can at least know that.”
“I would never… in front of a child? No…”
“His father was an earl who you joined the Warden in killing. Yorick said you tortured his mother to get answers from his father. Why?”
Understanding dawns on his face as his grip on his wife loosens a little and his eyes fall. “I didn’t know their son was present.”
“Why? Why did you kill them?”
“Children often only see the good in people, especially when they’re treated well.
Yorick’s parents were not good. They were known for their naval transport, but what they’d begun to do was traffic innocents by sea, selling them as slaves, including some people who were very dear to me.
When I found those poor people… the rage of seeing what had happened to them drew me down a dark path.
I’m not proud of what I did, but I do not regret it.
I’d been unable to find the children who had been taken, and Earl Godwin refused to tell me where they were.
I was prepared to do anything to save them, even end both of their lives.
He finally spoke once his wife was dead and I turned my attention to him.
He obviously cared about his money and himself more than his wife.
She was not innocent, either; none of them were.
Afterwards, I began to wonder if the Warden was the one who had sent them my way, had sent the slavers to my village where they took so many people whose lives they destroyed.
It was unusual for them to be out that far.
But he would have known that I’d become involved if someone took them.
I believe the Warden was trying to draw me into his fucked-up world.
After he couldn’t hang on to you, there were rumors that he tried his hand at drawing in many other older vampires. I think I was just one of them.
“If you’re going to kill me, don’t bother to tell Yorick what his parents did. They are long since dead. Allow him to go on believing they were good people.”
I press the shard of glass against his throat.
“Please don’t kill my wife. Please help her,” Wick begs.
“Morpheus has killed everyone I’ve ever cared for. If I don’t do as he asks, he’ll kill Yorick as well. You’re not strong enough to stop him. None of us are. He wants to destroy anyone with power.”
“And you’re going to give him that? You’re just going to help him achieve that?”
My grip on him tightens. Does he think I don’t already question my own actions? “Would you hand over your wife to him?”
He protectively pulls her closer. “I can help you. I have many followers.”
“And you think that’ll be enough? You know how strong he is. He has tortured me for a thousand years, and I’ve seen his strength, his cunning, and his brutality. He doesn’t care how many have to die in order to accomplish his goals.”
“I don’t know if it’ll be enough, but I can’t help you if I’m dead.”
“Yes, but if you’re not, Yorick will be.”
He’s silent while I sit here, gripping the shard of glass so tightly that blood drips from my hand.
What a fucking mess.