Chapter 3 #3
An intimidating warrior-woman with wild, flame-colored hair leaned forward in her seat. “Seeing the future is a rare gift among even the eldest vampires, unseen among the newer generations.” Chancellor Margaret’s heavy accent reminded Emma of Adrian when his emotions ran high.
“Among even the old generations. For you to possess this talent, it could only mean a vampire of greater age, perhaps even one as old as we nine, is responsible for your turning,” Mordecai surmised.
Tension rippled down Emma’s back and tightened her spine. “I don’t receive visions, not the way you’re referring to. It’s only a feeling without clarity. I don’t know any other way to describe it. I didn’t know hunters were coming, only that I was in general danger and needed to get home.”
“Your sire passed the potential for the gift to you, Emmaleigh. The power itself must be improved through dedicated practice,” Clarice explained.
“Had you honed your gift, perhaps the tragic loss of Ancient One Lamashtu may have been prevented,” Berengar agreed.
She stiffened. “How was I ever to receive training when my sire bailed before I even knew what I was?”
“Yes, another unfortunate situation, one anathema among many,” Clarice spoke with sympathy in her voice. “That mistake can be forgiven, for that was no fault of your own, dear child. The blame lies with your maker.”
Julius clapped his hands. “We must discuss this revelation and will summon you again once we are prepared to issue our decree. All agreed?”
The other eight nodded.
That was it? Her stomach twisted again, knotting into a firm web of apprehension. They’d barely given her a chance to speak, ending their interrogation before she had a chance to defend herself. “When might that be?”
“When we choose,” Clarice replied.
Properly chastised, she bowed her head. “Of course, Chancellors.”
Adrian touched her elbow and drew her back.
She relied on his steady hand to guide her, as she was numb from the inside out as she imagined them deliberating on her death and the method of her demise.
Would they stake her peacefully? Behead her?
Or would she be chained in their unprotected sun room until the dawn claimed her life, her remains to be removed once she no longer smoldered after nightfall?
“You’re shaking.” He looked down at her in concern and closed the bedroom door behind them.
“They’re going to execute me. I tried to be strong and fearless, but they’re going to kill me.”
Adrian squeezed her shoulders, the warmth of his reassurance and strong hands chipped away her rising self-doubt. “I want you to take a moment to think and tell me something, Emma. Do you feel that same sense of danger?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Then you’re safe.”
“I don’t feel safe. I feel like I’m hanging on a pendulum and, at any moment, my future can swing either way.”
“Then, as your counsel, I’ll do what’s necessary for the situation to swing in your favor. Is there anything else you’d like to share about your time in Texas that may help?”
“You mean my abilities?”
“Yes, if you think it could shed some light on the situation.”
Emma glanced away. “You’re wondering why I never said anything.”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“I don’t know.” The continued contact between them soothed her, but what she wanted was his arms around her and the warmth of his chest against her cheek.
“I’ve always been quiet about my infrequent visions.
They’re not even visions—more like moments of precognition, you know?
Everyone knows vampires with extraordinary abilities are singled out.
And I didn’t want that. I only wanted to live my life in peace. ”
“Fair enough.”
Adrian let go of her and moved deeper into the room toward a table bearing a decanter of port. He poured her a glass and pressed it into her hand before steering her to the bedside to sit.
“Tell me about Texas,” he said. “Even I only know rumors about what went on down there.”
She sipped the sweet wine and shrugged. “It was nice at first. I mean, I spent almost sixty years there. They were my family.”
“I met Francis once, a century ago I think it was. Maybe two.” He waved it off as unimportant then sat beside her, close enough for their thighs to touch.
“He seemed a good sort, if a little lacking in leadership qualities. I suppose that’s why he passed over control.
Anyone who spoke to him for a few minutes could tell he didn’t want to be there or care for ruling the coven.
He’d allow his neophytes to run wild and do as they pleased while the masters handled discipline.
Margot, however, is completely unknown to me. ”
“That’s about right,” Emma agreed. “Why was he put in that position though? Didn’t he have to agree to accept the coven?”
“Not necessarily. Many things happen behind the closed doors of the council that even I don’t understand. We are often elevated to these positions, chosen for our potential and for what we can do, not what we want.”
“Everything changed after she took over. The time I waited to leave was difficult, and for the first time ever, I spent more time away from the house.”
“Where did you stay then?”
She shifted uncomfortably and took a long sip of her drink. “I had someone I trusted enough to stay with.”
“A feeder?”
“Yeah, but an exclusive one.”
Adrian’s mouth flattened into a thin, firm line. “I see.”
“Please, like you’ve never fed from the same human before. It’s convenient and safer than plucking a new meal from the herd. Anyway, I crashed with him for a while then came up here.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t follow.”
“I didn’t want him to. End of story.” From the corner of her eye, she noticed the tension leave his shoulders. “Why does it matter to you?”
“It—”
A loud rap at the door interrupted him. Adrian rose and answered the door while she remained frozen where she sat.
Her wild imagination ran away, and she visualized Julius crossing the floor to her in two strides then lopping off her head with his gladius.
Could she even run and go rogue the way Margot had?
“Dinner for you both,” announced the same attendant who had brought them up earlier. He wheeled in a cart with a domed silver platter.
At any other time, her mouth would have salivated at the sight of bacon-wrapped filet mignon, roasted baby potatoes, and crème br?lée. Instead, her stomach churned. The scent of blood wafted up from two crystal flutes. High-quality vegan blood, probably fed supplemental iron and vitamins.
“Thank you,” Adrian said for them both. After the butler left, he placed the dome back over the plate.
“I think I’ll puke if I try even a bite. Will they be offended if we don’t eat it?”
“I doubt they’d even ask.”
Or notice.
“I’m going to make some calls. You know where to find me if you need me.”
“Okay,” Emma agreed in a whisper, conserving her strength.
Once he was gone, she turned on the television and flipped through the channels until she found a tolerable show.
The lighthearted comedy helped take her mind off things, at least for a little while.
She zoned out until a knock from the door joining her room and Adrian’s brought her back to her senses.
“Emmaleigh, it’s time.”
“I’ll be right out.”
As before, he met her in the hallway and offered her his arm. Her cold fingers trembled, so she dug them into his sleeve to hide the tremors.
Then he removed her hand and chafed it gently between both of his palms, warming her skin.
“They will not execute you, Emma.”
“I hope not.”
“I won’t let them.” His fingers tightened around hers. “I’ll say whatever is necessary.”
For a moment, they stood on the stairs with gazes locked. She breathed in his scent and leaned in, wishing he would take her in his arms as he had before and banish the nightmare haunting her, turn it into something pleasanter.
Adrian’s nostrils flared and his lips drew back, revealing the edge of his canines. He leaned closer, breaching her personal space and near enough to kiss. As she inhaled the fragrance of his blood and wondered at the taste, his hands dropped. He looked away first.
“Come, you don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“Yes, of course.” Disappointment placed a thousand-pound weight on her chest, but she focused on taking deep, even breaths and making it down the stairs.
The nine elders looked as though they hadn’t moved, each one watching her with the same condemnation in their eyes as she and Adrian stepped inside the room. She looked from face to face, trying to glean a clue from their expressions to predict their verdict.
“Emmaleigh Whittaker, are you ready to face judgment?” Julius asked.
No. “I am,” she replied.
“Then let us proceed.” The eldest vampire gestured to his peers.
“Your time in Belleridge has been… quiet,” Margaret remarked. Her electric blue gaze shifted toward Adrian and lingered.
Taking the hint, Adrian stepped forward and spoke. “Adept Whittaker has been a valuable addition to the Belleridge Coven. If the words of a master vampire mean anything to you, I would like to speak now in her favor.”
Although Emma envied the undeniable authority ringing in his voice, she managed to find her own courage to stand tall.
Julius inclined his head and gestured. “As you will.”
“I’ve read Adept Whittaker’s file many times. There are no offenses against her, not in all of her sixty years.”
“Neither did Margot, and we all saw what happened there,” Aasiyah said. A few of the elders nodded in agreement with her.
“But unlike Margot, she is a valued member of our coven and a mentor to the young neophytes inducted into the family. She’s a good soldier who decimated five heavily armed hunters without assistance.
While I have never met Margot Calloway, her record is a history of confrontational behavior and narcissism.
You would not find one vampire in Dartmouth with an ill word to speak of Emmaleigh Whittaker. ”