by Sophia North
Vlad sat up. Where the fuck was Godfrey going with this? The company was a boutique hedge fund. One of many Vlad had declared as part of his portfolio when he'd handed over his wealth the night he became an Elder.
It was also the only corporation Vlad had ever named himself as CEO. An act he'd undertaken for personal reasons, which he'd shared with only two others. And he knew they would never betray him.
"Other than hiring the brilliant Zack Bancroft to eventually take over as CEO, I have nothing to add. Unless you feel my fulfilling the legal obligations as CEO makes me a criminal," Vlad remarked casually. Zack Bancroft was, of course, a moron. But a requisite patsy to run day-to-day operations was necessary while Vlad really steered the ship.
"You are still CEO?" Edward Walpole spat out, his round portly face red from anger, yet again. "Explain yourself!"
Vlad sent the outraged vamp an innocent look just to piss him off some more. The vamp looked like he was about to have a heart attack. Vamps were not immune and an exploding heart worked just as well as one being ripped out.
What a shame that would be, Vlad silently mused. It would be one less guilty vote against him.
"I fucked up," he replied tersely. It was true. He wouldn’t have complicated matters with his little stunt if he'd had the slightest inkling he was going to become an Elder. But after joining Dante by claiming First Blood to be a Watcher once more, in his mind all hope of ever being an elder had died. And then came the Haan-Anton War and afterwards everything changed.
"You, Midas, fucked up? Do try again," Malcolm Poe scoffed, seemingly unable to help himself.
"It's true, and right royally too. You can call on my former human legal team to testify, if you like. They will say their final bill will only be paid, via the proper channels naturally, once they sort out how to extract me from the corporation with minimal disruption. Charrington's may be small, but it punches above its weight. Ask Sterling about its annual contribution to Lowerton's finances. Tidy sum to lose if things are not handled properly."
"Sterling?" Alessio enquired commandingly.
The Master of the Treasury stood. "It is as Elder Barath stated."
Alessio sat back in his chair. "Any further questions?" he boomed. Silence. "Then we vote."
The verdict was four-to-two in favour of Not Guilty. The two Guilty votes were cast, unsurprisingly, by Poe and Walpole. Godfrey's support, however, caught Vlad off guard. Why had the monk been drawn to Charrington's? It didn't make sense.
But the way his night was shaping up, he shouldn't have been surprised. Vlad shrugged it off. Up next was the charge that really intrigued him.
Conspiring to fix a Starr Chamber vote. What the fuck was up with that?
"As for the second charge, Page Malloy call the first witness," Alessio instructed.
"The Council of Elders calls Igor Abramovich, the Alchemist," Roxy called out loudly.
The fucking Alchemist? The Creator give him strength.
Igor was a repulsive creature. He'd been the former Elder Simmons's right hand vamp, until the traitorous bastard lost his head and heart on the steps of Igor's chambers during the war.
Igor was on Vlad's personal 'To Watch' list, despite having been pardoned for his part in Simmons betrayal. The slimy shit gained clemency after turning over more damning evidence about other members of Simmons's entourage and pledging loyalty to Lowerton for the rest of his days. May the Creator strike him down, if he broke his word, he'd claimed to the Council.
The sanctimonious little prick.
Bent over, the vamp side-shuffled his way to the witness chair, dragging his left foot slightly behind him.
Alessio began the questioning. "Could you please state for the record my order to you at the beginning of my reign?"
"You instructed me to create seven vials of ink with distinctive properties," the repugnant wretch hissed.
"For what purpose?"
"Please, your Eminence, I do not think it wise to say. Think of your position," Igor's blood eyes implored, hoping to change the Grand Elder's mind.
"Speak, Igor. I command it," Alessio ordered.
"To provide evidence in the event of something untoward happening," the Alchemist whimpered.
Whispers of dissent swirled. Starr Chamber votes were secret ballots and Alessio's act had contravened the centuries old convention. Alas, those were the old days. Welcome to new Lowerton.
Alessio ruled the Empire now. If he wanted to, his direct orders could not be challenged under any current law. But he'd hoped the illusion of democracy he'd adopted would help unite the vamp world in the wake of Haan's near resurrection. It wasn't exactly working out as intended.
"Elders take note of this testimony. Abramovich, you can step down. I will be calling on you again shortly," Alessio informed the council.
Then followed endless hours of more useless testimony about how Vlad had coerced Godfrey into voting with him. The motive for this had yet to be established. But after one of the chambermaids claimed to overhear Vlad threaten the giant, he too was almost convinced of his guilt. Who the fuck was behind this elaborate stitch-up? Vlad wanted to hire him...her. Or both, for their excellent sabotage skills.
Yes, Vlad was beginning to suspect Godfrey and Mariam might not be who he thought they were. Good thing he fucked off finding the Dragon on their behalf.
With his future appearing to be on a rather dire path, Vlad sat unmoving and thought about Penny. He'd left her in Scotland believing there was nothing to worry about. A slight hiccup at work requiring his attention, nothing more.
He'd be dead by dawn. Simone would have to tell her about it.
Inside his heart felt heavy. Fuck, he'd never even made love to her properly. Look where taking it slow had brought him. Facing execution and wishing he'd spent the past nine months in bed with Penny.
At least he could meet his end knowing he'd told her how he felt. That she knew he loved her.
"Alchemist, retake the chair," Alessio's voice bellowed, breaking Vlad from his reverie. "Recorder, bring him the boxes."
Vlad watched in fascination as Alessio directed the vile vamp to prepare to give his evidence. Hoping by all the gods, goddesses, trees - whatever the fuck did it - Alessio had the means to exonerate him.
"In this box are the ballots of the initial vote on the matter of allowing genetic testing for the identification of vamp breeding," Igor explained. "Each Elder used a specific pot of ink assigned for the purpose of voting. Each ink, in turn, will smoke a different colour when set alight to identify from whose quill marked the spot."
With a wave of his hand, Alessio instructed Igor to begin. One by one, the alchemist had the ballot passed through each of the Elder's hands to ensure the authenticity of what was marked. When it was returned to him, he called out the result and then burnt the ballot.
Each puff of smoke brought forth a specific colour, which was then compared to a ledger, sealed in a box by the Master of Law. These records identified every Elder's ink colour.
Vlad perked up. This might be his salvation. His second vote would reveal he'd changed his position to 'Yes'. Why the fuck would he do that when he supposedly orchestrated the 'No' vote? It would prove his innocence.
When Godfrey's first ballot was revealed as 'Yes', you could have knocked most vamps over with a feather. If ever a vamp screamed Traditionalist, it was him.
For Vlad, it wasn't all that shocking now that he'd spent time with him. Godfrey may be stuck in the past about a lot of things, but the evolution of vampyres into a nobler race was more important to him than anything.
And until vamp breeding was handled openly, darkness would always have a chance to infect things. The human breeding brothels from the height of the Terrors were a testament of that fact and could never be allowed to happen again.
"This box contains the second, and deciding votes," Igor announced before beginning the process of identifying the Elders positions all over again.
Vlad leaned forward, eager to
watch as his innocence was revealed.
"No," Igor bellowed and lit the paper. A violet puff of smoke appeared. "Elder Locksley."
The crowd tittered over the change. It confirmed the current prevailing theory that Vlad had made him vote No.
The next ballot was passed. "No." Blue smoke. It was Vlad's fucking ballot. How could this be? He'd voted Yes! Simone's preservation had been at stake. He wasn't going to fuck about with that.
"Elder Barath," Igor confirmed what everyone in the coliseum suspected.
"Guil-ty, guil-ty, guil-ty," they chanted.
Vlad's head dropped. It was well and truly fucking over.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"SILENCE!" ALESSIO ROARED, standing to attention. The coliseum became so quiet one could hear a pin drop. "This Council will not be mob-ruled. It is ruled by me. Guards, arrest Elder Locksley for his role in conspiring with Elder Barath."
The crowd remained silent. Alessio had made it plain he would no longer tolerate their brutish mentality.
Retaking his seat, Alessio rested his chin on his fist as he leaned on the arm of his chair. The evidence was damning, pretty much foolproof, and yet every fibre of his being knew that Vlad was innocent.
This put him in a terrible predicament. To refute the truth of what he'd implemented would not go unchallenged. And he could not afford to undermine his position any further. He had an Empire to rule.
"Elder Barath, is there anything you would like to add or rebut?" he asked.
Vlad considered his options. But what the fuck could he provide? The evidence of his ballot was irrefutable, even if it was untrue. And he didn't appear to have the allies, or the time, to work out how the tampering occurred.
He rose to his feet. Here goes nothing.
"Grand Elder, peers," he began, "it would seem the evidence entered is pretty conclusive. Could I rebuke it? Absol-fucking-lutely. But who would believe me? Malc and Eddie have provided enough of a circus. And the crowd seems content with the bread crumbs they've left. As for the rest of you, who can say what words may sway your favour in my direction? All I have is my word, my honour, as an Elder, and defender of Lowerton, that I did not commit any of the charges laid against me."
He sat back down and said no more.
"Thank you, Elder Barath," Alessio replied. "Elders, we will vote. As I call your name, enter your verdict. Elder Poe?"
"Guilty." Shocker.
"Elder Walpole?"
Pig vamp leaned over the table. "Guilty."
"Elder Winters?"
Darius didn't hesitate. "Not fucking guilty." The crowd reacted with shouts of distain.
Alessio stomped his foot. "One more outburst and I'll clear the chamber." He paused, then asked, "Elder Villiers?"
This was the moment. The current Elder numbers made Villiers's vote the ultimate decider as to whether Alessio would even need to cast an opinion.
"Not guilty."
Vlad nearly slid from his chair to offer prayers of thanks for this astonishing miracle. His life rested in Alessio's hands.
The Grand Elder took a deep breath before uttering the verdict no one thought possible: "Guilty."
The coliseum could not be contained. It roared their approval as their Grand Elder, their very own Emperor, delivered Justice in their eyes.
Vlad just sat there, shocked to his core.
Alessio rose to address the coliseum. "Vladimir Barath you are hereby stripped of your title as Elder, as Watcher and will henceforth be known in Lowerton as Vlad the Traitor. The sentence for High Treason is..."
"Stop!" Darius bellowed springing to his feet. "Grand Elder, I believe you may be too hasty in your sentencing."
Alessio turned to stare at him, careful to keep the relief at Darius's intervention from his face. "Please, Elder Winters. Enlighten me."
With a quick glance in Vlad's direction, he said, "Recently a brother quoted me some arcane rules and regulations, which got me thinking about our present case. As we all know, the charge of high treason has not been invoked in centuries. So I took it upon myself to do a bit research on past precedent. Guess what? I learned a fucking lot. Death is not the only option."
"Master of Law, are Elder Winter's claims true? Are there precedents about sentencing you failed to provide?" Alessio snapped.
Ignatius Mathers shot to his feet. "None that bore relevance to this particular case, I can assure you, Grand Elder."
"Mathers, your reply doesn't fill me with confidence. Sentencing will be delayed until a full accounting of the precedents are presented. Guards, return the traitor to his cell. The rest of you," Alessio said, pointing to the Elders still present, "join me in the Starr Chamber one hour from now. I think we could all do with a moment to reflect."
THE LOWERTON DUNGEONS were a dank, smelly, miserable affair. The ideal spot to commiserate on the folly of one's existence and Vlad was taking full advantage.
Slumped against a particularly wet stone wall, he tossed small rocks at whatever lurked about in the shadows. The flickering oil lamps along the cell block gave off limited light, but with his vamp vision he could amplify it in order to see into every nook and cranny where shit might hide.
How had he let things get so out of control? Vlad tended to stay three steps ahead of his opponents. But this time he'd missed all the signs.
His fucking instincts had failed him. He should have known better and used his head.
Out of the corner of his eye, in the shadows of the cell, Vlad saw something scurrying along the wall.
Rats. Disgusting creatures.
The irony of their presence did not escape him.
He was surrounded by them...in all forms.
Taking aim, he launched another stone and nailed the rat at twenty paces. The rodent shrieked and scurried away.
Just a plain old rat. How disappointing. A part of him hoped it had been Reggie the Rat coming to pay him a visit.
Following up on Alfred's intel about Reginald Reilly, Vlad had put a small team of investigators to dig up whatever they could on the man. Turns out Reggie was in fact a scumbag shape-shifting rat from the East End of London. Haan's Serpent Brotherhood had certainly branched out into the lowest of the low. Times must be tough.
The thought of Haan sending his rat followers after Penny unnerved him. To what end? And why the interest in her Mystery paintings? The questions swirled around in his head, tormenting him with their elusive answers.
Vlad hated being in the dark. And as he sat in a damp, miserable cell, awaiting his fate, he cursed his blindness.
The only silver lining he had to cling to was Darius's display at his trial. Any doubts Vlad harboured about his brother's loyalty had been eradicated by his faith in him. He'd not hesitated for a moment in declaring Vlad not guilty. And if not for his intervention at the point of sentencing, Vlad had no doubt he'd be roasting in the Fires this very moment.
As for Alessio's role in his fate, Vlad dared not dwell on it, fearing where that rabbit hole may lead. He needed to be focused when Darius busted him out of this shithole. And if he knew his brother, the rescue mission was already underway.
Knock, knock, knock, knock...Knock, knock.
Vlad lifted his head. The rapping had just tapped out the word 'Hi'.
Godfrey. Of course the mute fucker knew Morse code.
"Go fuck yourself, Godfrey. I've nothing to say."
The tapping code replied. Why? Cat got your tongue?
"Are you trying to be funny right now, you duplicitous back-stabbing cunt?" Vlad barked. "Or should I be bestowing that title on Mariam? I must admit, I'm going to enjoy making her talk. Such a pretty face."
A furious bout of knocking broke out after he'd finished.
Lay one finger on her and you won't live long enough to regret it. She's had no part in this sham. Nor me.
Vlad threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Don't you think it's time to come clean, monk fuck? Think of your immortal soul. Granted it's as damned as mine, but perhaps Ali
ghieri was onto something with his nine circles of hell? And mate, I hate to break it to you but you're spiralling towards the lowest level with your continued lies."
Rata-tat-tat, came the next reply.
The only liar here is you. Did you even attempt to locate the Dragon, as promised?
"Fuck your dragon," Vlad shot back.
Believe me, I'd like nothing more.
The tapping ceased.
"Godfrey, I didn't know you had it in you," Vlad joked, waiting to hear what the monk vamp had to say to that. But no further knocking came.
In the distance, the sound of clomping boots could be heard.
This did not bode well. He was pretty damn sure Darius's escape plans would not include the cavalry.
Eventually, two Watchers with a prisoner in tow stopped outside Vlad's door. Unlocking it, one of them pushed a bound vamp into the cell with him.
"There. You two traitors can enjoy your last hours together," the vamp sniggered.
As Godfrey fell to the floor in front him, Vlad's gaze flashed to the wall separating the cells. If not Godfrey, then who the fuck had he just been communicating with?
Staring down at the vamp's unmoving body, he nudged it with the tip of his boot. "Godfrey?...Monk fuck, can you hear me?" A piteous groan was the reply. "I'll take that as a yes."
Godfrey turned over rubbing his chin, watching Vlad warily.
Vlad snorted at the suspicion he saw there. "Don't give me that look. If anyone has the right to be suspicious, it's me! What the fuck is going on? If it wasn't for the fact I need some answers, believe you me, we wouldn't be talking right now."
Shut up. And get these chains off of me. Godfrey signed to Vlad.
"And why would I do that? Last time I checked you were the enemy and I don't much fancy helping out my foes."
The only enemy here is you.
His reply took Vlad by surprise. Why would Godfrey believe him to be the enemy? The monk had been the one spouting information at the trial he had no way of knowing. Charrington Investments was the one weak link in Vlad's armour over the relentless questioning about his wealth. And by drawing attention to it Godfrey had almost revealed the truth about Vlad's continued operation of the company. There were no nefarious reasons for him doing so, but nonetheless it would have been damning evidence against him.