Page 72 of Before We Burn

I give Bunny a wary look and she returns a small smile. Her eyes shoot to me as five men enter the room, wearing long robes made of velvet and fine materials. I shake my head, hating the play at the hierarchy. They look like they watched that guy in Italy, the one people used to scream like he was a passage to God. What was he called? Oh, the Pope!

Constantine shifts uncomfortably. I try to move to her, but an ancient voice stops me mid-motion.

“You don’t move unless we tell you to, Marzana.” My eyes jolt to an old man with a clean shaven face and dark long black hair. I hadn’t realized it when they first walked in, but their eyes are completely black.

Gray's thoughts scream out to me. “That’s William Remington. The second oldest.” Another council member speaks, cutting Gray off mid-explanation.

“Relax, Willie. She’s a soldier, not a politician.”

Gray’s thoughts return. “That’s Arthur Williams. Youngest and the most careless; supposedly he’s still fathering children.”

Then the man I watched when they first walked in spoke. He feels the most dangerous by far. He sits on the throne adorned by birds, and I can’t help but notice his similarity to them. The same thing with Arthur, whose hair is a burnt orange color like the fur of a fox, and he boasts the same cunning demeanor.

“You come to us with an offer we can not act upon. Your recent publicity would make it impossible for us to interfere. This will have to play out,” the bird king says.

I step forward, ready to argue, when he shifts eerily in his seat. The motions he makes are similar to a hawk that’s spotted its prey. His head rapidly moves to Everett, eyes glaring at him with such an intensity I want to shield him from it, and suddenly those same eyes are on me.

“Are you mad?!” the bird king calls from his throne. “Exposing my kin to this!”

I look at Everett, who seems just as shocked as I am. Gray’s thoughts intrude one more time. “That’s Saxon Hill speaking to Everett.”

The last names, the fury in the council member’s eyes. There’s no way…

I look from Saxon to Everett. Everett seems just as confused as I feel. Thoughts flood me, pieces of information dropping from what feels like everywhere. I grab my head and breathe erratically. I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin when shouting erupts around me. Bunny stands before me suddenly, her eyes black like the council members’. Six more faces appear around her, all of them women in different stages of life, and all of them dead.

“Focus, Marzana. Listen.” The faces all speak in a haunting voice.

I panic. I’m about to drop to my knees and beg for help when Constantine turns me away from them and grips me by my shoulders. I decipher the thoughts slowly.

The council has kin alive and well. The council is protecting them. But why? Why would the council want Everett to unknowingly be in the Premier Leader’s army?

The pieces begin to fall together.

They know.

Constantine's voice cuts through the noise in my head. “Everett is the last living blood relative of Saxon. The council keeps their direct members alive and happy to maintain their strength and wealth. It’s the old way.”

That solidifies it. My attention turns back to the council and my vision tunnels on Saxon, the oldest living vampire we know of. I don’t know if fury has taken a life of its own in my body—or if my heart has started beating again—but something is trying to claw its way out of my chest. I’m seething.

“It’s your kin,” I scream to the council. “It’s your human fucking kin! They’re slaughtering us and the witches. Doing their experiments, using our teeth to make themselves something more. A vampire without all the downsides to it.” I’m hysterical, bordering between insane and heartbreak, realizing we were never going to win.

“For what?” My words are heavy as they come out, my exhaustion in plain view. “For power? For bodies you don’t want to use? Name heirs and move the fuck on!” My last word hangs in the air.

Everyone’s eyes are on me, even the council members who didn’t speak. Some wear smug looks of satisfaction, while others, like Saxon, sneer in disgust. I can’t go into their minds—not if I want to be able to fight if it comes down to it. I’ve stepped out of line; I know their little fucking secret. They could have me destroyed before I even think about running.

Slow claps sound from behind me, and I turn slowly, anxiety-fueled-fear forcing tears to my eyes. As I turn, I hear the youngest council member, Arthur, breath out, “Fuckin’ hell.”

In the shadows a man stands, his back against the wall with an arrogance I would recognize anywhere. It’s the Premier Leader. He slowly and lazily moves into the moonlight. The silver beard he donned yesterday has been removed, but I’d recognize that fucking smug smile anywhere.

It isn’t a surprise to me that the Premier Leader is kin to Arthur. They both share the same reddish-orange hair. If I had seen the council member before his eyes turned pitch black, I’m sure they would be the same hue of blue. I look between them, the similarities almost too obvious. Saxon and Everett look nothing alike.

“Before you try to kill me,” the Premier Leader says, as if it was a regular Sunday morning, “there are pure UV and sun bombs under your feet. The council was so gracious to meet me here before you arrived.”

I close my eyes in defeat; I already saw the detonator in his hand. This is what Bunny was speaking of earlier. She knew we were about to walk into a trap—a terribly done one. If I just would’ve paid attention, started putting pieces together sooner—if I had just stopped being wrapped up in my own shit.

I open my eyes to look at Everett, hearing his frustration and anger. He hates the man standing in front of us just as much as the rest of us. The Premier Leader must’ve noticed me looking at Everett.

I step forward. “So, let me guess. Your name is Arthur, too.” He gives me a malicious grin that would send chills up the toughest person's spine. He doesn’t answer, though. Instead he turns and looks at Everett, his stare intense and unsettling.