21. A Brawl
A brAWL
Alex
When we arrived in Whitechapel, a brawl was going on right in front of the alley leading to Lucy’s house.
Graves was fighting with Knight while the other werewolves caused general havoc, howling or growling.
Werewolves were easily excited, and nothing excited them more than a fight to the point that they didn’t think clearly.
It was a miracle their species wasn’t extinct.
Punches were thrown, and doors and windows were smashed. Passersby shouted and scurried away from the fray. The smell of werewolf blood—pungent and tangy—clung to my clothes. The thirst didn’t rear its head, so unappealing the blood was.
“Stop this!” I tried to regain my commanding tone, but I hadn’t recovered yet from my ordeal.
“Graves! Stop!” Darius radiated a faint light, but nothing else happened.
Myrtha and Irene exchanged a glance before focusing on the large brawl.
A wave of energy erupted from them. Or rather, the energy radiated mostly from Irene.
She’d grown skilled in using her wili power and controlling the radiance of her white light, not to attract attention.
No humans lived in the part of Whitechapel that was the centre of the Moon Court, but Irene had been wise to control her outburst.
The two fighting werewolves fell to the ground with a smack as if shoved aside. Graves dropped to the cobbles. Knight was shaking his head as if to clear his mind.
Perhaps Myrtha wasn’t wrong about who sorted out a mess.
I shifted my gaze from Graves to Knight. “What is the meaning of this?”
Graves didn’t look good. He was pale and thin, with dishevelled hair and dirty clothes. He hadn’t shaved in weeks, judging by the thick beard, and his pupils were dilated.
He stretched out an arm towards Knight. “He killed Lucy. After having taken everything from my family, destroyed our home, he dared kill my sister!”
Knight leapt to his feet with a speed that warranted some respect. “I didn’t. I didn’t order my men to kill her either. George acted of his own accord without consulting me.”
“You’re responsible for your werewolves.” Graves stood up on unsteady legs. “You’re the alpha. The duke.”
Knight pressed his lips together. “I wanted Lucy out of my area, but I didn’t want her dead.”
I spoke before Graves did. “I suppose you’re going to take action against this George.”
“I am.” Knight gave me a curt nod. “Graves shouldn’t interfere. I’m counting on you to keep him calm.”
“Calm? He left the Dark Court. He’s no longer my responsibility.”
Irene cleared her throat as Graves started sobbing with awful, choking noises. I knew Irene well enough to understand what she wanted me to say.
I gave Graves a quick pat on the shoulder, genuinely sorry for the chap grieving his sister although he’d left the Dark Court on his own. “Unless you want to be part of the Dark Court again.”
I didn’t mention the fact Raven Hall might as well be lost and that we were planning to catch a formidable vampire who could kill us all in a heartbeat. Or that the Fair Duchess might dismantle the Dark Court and the Moon Court and govern them as the sole ruler.
He wiped his face with the tattered sleeve of his shirt. “Would you really take me back?”
No, but for Irene, I would do anything. “Of course.”
Irene didn’t trust me. I’d disappointed her. The least I could do was try to gain her trust.
She gave me a small smile that warmed my chest, and our bond softened.
Graves nodded. “Thank you.”
“Come on.” I headed for Lucy’s flat. “We need to take Lucy out of here.”