128. Holden
Chapter 128
Holden
M y father is a hero. He’s my hero. I’m proud that I can still say that at my age. There are a lot of people standing among us that can not. The guy at the front of the room, battered, broken and used by his parents, is proof of that.
Malcolm gives an indignant sniff, as he says, “How dare you? I’ve given my life to The League. Everything I’ve done has been in service to it and to protect it. Who are you to question me about anything?”
He shakes his head, a judgmental look on his face, as he addresses the high council directly. “A prospect. A first year at that, spins this fanciful tale and you, the high council, refuse to oust her from the proceedings as if any of this is believable.”
My derisive snort blasts through the too quiet room when he says, “For years, I have heard whispers of someone attempting to infiltrate us and cause dissent. I’ve heard rumors of these unaligned members trying to take over. Some amongst us have suggested that the council was aware of these threats and chose to ignore them. I am loyal to my oath, and to The League, and have shut down those accusations at every turn. But, perhaps I was wrong.”
Is he really going to do this? Now? He can’t be that crazy. Can he?
“Perhaps I was na?ve. Too loyal to an ideology without considering the human element. There have been calls to have the current members of the high council step aside, because they are unfit to continue leading our brotherhood.” He sighs. “It appears… and please know, it pains me greatly to say this, but after what has occurred here in these last few minutes. From the false announcement of Prospect LaReaux’s demise, as well as the council’s other failures over the last year, I feel I have no choice but to call for a vote of no confidence, and the immediate election of new high council members.”
Grant and Burke immediately join the call for a vote of no confidence, followed by more and more members. My heart sinks along with my head, as everything we’ve been doing these last few weeks turns out to be a wasted effort. If everyone sides with Malcolm, there’s no way they’ll believe the family lines were tampered with.
The ranks behind me talk amongst themselves. The members on the platform bicker back and forth. The room is brought back to order, and the recorder asks, “Most Esteemed Councilman Cox, do you deny the allegations First Year Prospect LaReaux has brought before the council?”
Malcom stammers, “Wh-What? What kind of questions is that? I just said this was a story spun by a troubled young woman, probably designed to get back at my son for deciding to choose someone else as his wife.” Dismissively, he turns back to the platform. “Will any others join me for this vote?”
More and more people agree.
“Most Esteemed Councilman Cox, the question on the floor is, do you deny the allegations First Year Prospect LaReaux has brought before the council?”
My head snaps up, looking for the person who repeated the question. It’s an unassuming man I’ve seen at a few events. He’s friendly enough from what I can remember, but bland, and easily overlooked. Never bold, or in the middle of the deal making. He’s quintessentially the last person I’d ever expect to speak up in chambers or to ask Malcolm a question. From the way Malcolm’s scowling at him, it’s obvious he thinks the same.
“So it appears you do have a voice, Giles, and use it poorly. I will not dignify this very obvious attempt at distracting from the issue with an answer.”
The rally call for a vote continues. How many more people does he need for it to happen tonight? The numbers on the leader board tick over as more people show their support for Malcolm’s vote. He stands there looking smug. We didn’t have a plan for this. We didn’t expect a vote to happen tonight. To have to walk out of here being part of an organization lead by Malcolm Cox, Jr. and his cohorts. We’ll have to run as soon as this is over. There’s no way we can live here. The first thing he’ll do is go after Pax and Thea, again.
I glance over at her. Her eyes and the right side of her face are swollen. There’s dried blood all over her clothes, one of her wounds is still bleeding, and it’s obvious it hurts for her to be standing. I move to offer her support, but one of the prospects standing at the front shifts closer, propping her up against him.
From somewhere on my right, someone says, “The question on the floor is do you deny the allegations First Year Prospect Thea LaReaux has brought before the council?”
Malcolm scoffs, “Who are you to ask a question of me? Third Year Prospect, Montrose?”
Thea’s cousin steps towards the front of the room. “I speak on behalf of the Montrose family line, as the proxy head of the family in attendance for tonight’s council meeting.”
“The question on the floor is, do you deny the allegations?” Someone else asks from this side of the room. He follows up with, “I speak on behalf of the Norwood family line, as the proxy head of the family in attendance for tonight’s council meeting.”
Third, fourth and fifth year prospects all speak out. Identifying their family line and their designations as the proxy head of their family line. I don’t know what’s happening, but I can sense it’s important. I search out my grandfather, meeting his gaze. He dips his head slightly, and I push to the front of the crowd, as I say, “The question on the floor is do you deny the allegations First Year Prospect LaReaux has brought before the council?”
Malcolm whirls around. Eyes narrowed at me, as I say, “I am Holden Sullivan, the proxy head of the Sullivan family line in attendance for tonight’s council meeting.”
Finn steps up beside me, repeating the same thing. Then Pax is on my other side. Malcolm stiffens as he says, “I am Paxton Nicolas Cox. I stand with my Trium, as the proxy head of the Cox family line in attendance for tonight’s meeting. The question on the floor is, do you deny the allegations First Year Prospect LaReaux, and I have brought before the council?”
The recorder’s head whips back and forth, while the ceremony master looks at the council as if he’s not sure what to do. He approaches the dais, entering into a heated whisper with one of the archivists. When he comes back to the front of the room, he says, “Mid-level Councilman Cox, the question on the floor must be answered before you can call for a vote.”
Malcolm’s face reddens as he declares, “The vote has already been called.”
“Yes, but there’s a challenge on the floor from the head of the family lines for nine out of twelve members of the descendants of the circle.”
Malcolm insists, “That’s impossible.”
Pax’s grandfather says, “Please call out the names of the descendants to be presented before the dais.”
Of the nine that step forward, three come through the side door of the adjoining overflow room, and one is on screen, remotely. When their names are officially recorded and verified, the recorder says, “Most Esteemed Councilman Cox, how do you respond to the allegations brought forth against you by First Year Prospect Theona LaReaux and Second Year Prospect Paxton Cox?”
Malcolm says, “I’ve already answered. The allegations are untrue. Now I won’t say that the girl hasn’t been through something this evening. However, she has a tendency to find herself in violent confrontations, to which I’ve been told she’s usually the instigator of. As for my involvement, I have not laid a hand on her, which I’m sure she’ll confirm if you ask her.”
That’s not an outright lie. He hasn’t laid a hand on Thea. He never got the chance, but he’s certainly given the orders for others to do so. Archibald Grant says, “I’ve never touched her either.”
Thea slumps even more, as she says, “Council members Grant and Cox are likely telling the truth. While I’ve been conscious, they’ve never touched me. You’ll have to track down the footage of when I’ve been unconscious to determine if that’s still true. As for league member Bishop, he owns the properties where Lazarro is conducting his auctions and torture sessions, and Councilman Burke and a few of his buddies are guilty of luring me to a club for what he called a loyalty challenge. They dressed me in lingerie and it was clear their intent was for me to strip and fuck them, but their flaccid old dicks never got the workout they hoped, because my mentor and my Finn stopped them.”
Burke, sputters, “Now listen, here you lying little-”
Finn cuts him off with a warning. “Hold your tongue, or I’ll hold it for you, and this time, nobody will be getting anything sewn back on.” To Thea, he says, “Continue, Pet.”
She smiles weakly at him. “They are deplorable men who have repeatedly tried to demean, humiliate and punish me. They wanted me gone, broken, or enslaved to them, but I can’t pin all the blame on them or the people that helped them get away with it. I mean, it’s not their fault they were either too stupid, or on too much of a power trip, to know they were also being manipulated by someone more power hungry than them.”
She’s leaning heavily to one side now. Another prospect steps forward to prop up her other side. I want to tell them to take their hands off of her, but I don’t. They’re making a statement. Showing support and I don’t want to ruin that for her.
Thea continues, “There’s someone who’s been pulling the strings. He put this all in motion from the very beginning. That person can tell you what I’ve endured this last year, and what Pax and I have been doing the past two days. Cox, Grant, Bishop and Burke are just patsies. Wouldn’t you agree, Most Esteemed High Councilman Sherman?”
Sherman speaks in calm clipped sentences when he says, “I agree that your accusations this evening are preposterous. I’ve been a member of the league for over sixty years, and the gentlemen you named have always been members in good standing, unlike your grandfather and his family line.”
I study his face, looking for a tell. Which family lines is he actually referring to? He drolls on. “I’m also inclined to agree that you’ve been a threat to what we’ve built since the beginning. I knew it was a mistake to let you stay in town.”
He waves his hand towards the floor. “Look at the chaos you’re creating while you’re standing there, bleeding out. Your very existence here calls into question the history and integrity of our brotherhood and threatens the foundation of our league.”
My grandfather inclines his head to the side and asks, “If you would be so kind as to explain how, Most Esteemed High Councilman Sherman.”
“How what?” Sherman sputters.
“How does a first year prospect threaten the history, integrity, and foundation of The League?”
Sherman opens and closes his mouth, looking confused by the question. Thea answers, “Because I’m number ten, or number one, if you want to get technical. You can also call me the fourth. I don’t really care what number you assign.”
“Ten, one, four?” Grant scoffs. “Do you hear this incoherent babbling? Young lady, stand down from your allegations and yield the floor, so we can get you some help.” Sneering at the high council area, he says, “Let the record show that I voted against letting women join The League. It was the worst initiative the high council ever came up with. The vetting process has been atrocious. She can’t even count. ”
Thea responds, “I was one of the top ranked prospects until your buddy kidnapped me, and I can count just fine, but I’ll be clearer. I’m the tenth family line waiting for Malcolm Cox Jr. to actually deny the allegations.”
Burke says, “You have no authority to demand an answer, because you’re not a descendant of the twelve.”
I fucking love this girl. Somehow, she’s worked this conversation back around in our favor. She says, “I can count, and I can read too, and the last thing I read was the fascinating truth regarding the history of The League of the Daggered Raven. So I say again , the question on the floor to Mid-level Council Member Malcolm Cox, Jr. -who seems to have trouble comprehending what I’m asking- is, do you deny that you had me arrested while on a challenge in Palm Springs, and taken to Rockridge Psychiatric Facility, to be forced into complying with your demands? Do you deny that you told me I’d be there for the rest of my life and that you planned to impregnate me to produce an heir with or without my consent?”
Even tired, and in pain, she pulls off the sexiest smirk as she says, “I’m Anotèa Hughes. The proxy head of the Adrianakis family in attendance for tonight’s council meeting.”
I watch the reactions of the older high council members. A few stand taller, some take a step back, and others huddle together, whispering. Then I turn to look at my grandfather. He stands proudly, chin raised, as does Finn, senior. Looking back up at the oldest Cox, I expect to see disgust or anger. Instead, he looks unbothered by what’s going on as he stares down at us. Unbothered and unsurprised. They knew. They knew who she was.
Someone finally admits, “We’re unfamiliar with this family line you mention, Prospect LaReaux, and until we can authenticate their lineage, we cannot recognize them as a tertiary descendant of the circle.”
I tell him, “Your ignorance about the Adrianakis family is understandable. Their existence as a legacy family has been buried for nearly a hundred years. Any mention of them was wiped from the archives, because the next several generations born into the family were women. The family line was diluted through marriage and the unclaimed position in The Circle was passed around to whoever The League decided to announce as a replacement bloodline.”
The man next to my grandfather says, “That is how things work here.”
“It is.” I agree. “But sixty-some odd years ago, a male descendant was born, and was tapped to join the league. The family line should have been updated, yet there is no mention of it in the archives.”
Someone asks, “If that’s true, where is this male descendant? Why hasn’t he come forward?”
Thea answers, “Because someone didn’t like it when he started asking questions, which would have probably led to him discovering his true legacy identity and coming forward. He was killed on his way back from a challenge on Canyon Creek Bridge, following a failed attempt to collect a document from a Guardian Vault.”
She’s looking at Sherman again, when she says, “You should’ve gotten rid of the people you hired to carry out that hit. I hear one of them is living in Tuscany and he cried like a pussy when he was being… questioned. One of the items you had them steal sixty years ago is on the way to being recovered. Along with two of the original charge books that the families never turned in.”
Next she addresses Malcolm and says, “By the way, details matter, and if you’re gonna forge something that’s supposed to be hundreds of years old and hand out fake charge books to your buddies, make sure you use the right paper and ink to match what’s in all the archives.”
An archivist asks, “What is she talking about, Malcolm?”
“Nothing.” He snorts. “These are just more outlandish claims and accusations.”
Thea shrugs and says, “They’re only accusations if I can’t prove them.” She takes a shuffling step forward, away from the people holding her up, and addresses high council member Sherman once again. “You know, I didn’t understand why Felix Lazarro’s bidders all chose the same things when it came to me. I seriously couldn’t figure out why no one, other than the guards, Malcolm and Leo Burke, ever wanted sex from me. But, I guess their end game was securing their place in the league and their success hinged on them forcing their small little dicks in me and getting me pregnant.”
I cut my eyes at them, and notice Finn is zeroed in on Burke. He might not have his dick when this is over.
Thea goes on to say, “Everyone else wanted me beaten, my resistance broken. For all intents and purposes, they wanted me dead. When I realized the guards at Lazarro’s gladiator games were really guardians, I thought Lazarro had somehow worked his way into two components of The League. But then , I saw your name on the screen.”
Someone from the crowd asks, “Prospect LaReaux, what exactly is it that you’re accusing High Council Member Sherman of doing?”
“Besides him being an arms dealer and using league resources to launder money, steal from his competitors, and traffic people? Well, there’s also murder, and weaponizing The Guardian program and turning the members into his own little army of enforcers.” Her voice is weaker, her energy waning. I see the signs, the too long blinks. She’s close to passing out. “Answer me this… whose idea was it for the lower legacy families and amnesty group to join the guardian lines?”
Thea goes on to say, “I’m sure if you do some digging… you’ll see he’s connected to Andor Reese, too. Isn’t that right, councilman Sherman? Or should I call you Don Selleti, since that’s the name you used that night in Nag’s Creek?”
All eyes whip to the man in question, while mine meet my father’s gaze. The Selletti’s are the cartel members that tried to kidnap me. But how does Thea know Sherman from her hometown? She sways on her feet. “By the way, your latest outbound shipment will be delayed indefinitely, and your favorite west coast resource center, Rockridge Psychiatric Facility, won’t be open much longer.”
All hell breaks loose as she pitches forward. Finn’s there to catch her before she hits the ground, and my father orders, “Sergeant, take Councilman Sherman, Malcolm Cox Jr, Archibald Grant, Leonardo Burke and Evan Bishop into custody.”
To the council he says, “I am resigning from my post on the security council, to avoid a conflict of interest, as local, state and federal law enforcement investigates the kidnapping and trafficking of Theona LaReaux, Paxton Cox, and as yet unnamed individuals, as well as the murder of Nikolous Constantin.”
I spot Eloise trying to slink by. Gripping her arm, I say, “Stay put. Something tells me your name will be heavily featured in my father’s investigation.”