Page 170 of Vampire's Choice

He moved it outside of him, up, twisting it around his arm like Medusa’s serpents. Pallas felt it coming, saw it, his eyes widening. When it plunged into him, he cried out, a strangled, horrible noise. Merc didn’t look away, watching with satisfaction and critical disinterest. The Fae’s cheeks became sunken, his eyes more so, his lips thin and prominent.

What life energy he’d pulled forth held no appeal for him. Merc let it drift away on the wind, inert and useless. When he at last released Pallas and stepped back, the High Fae’s limbs were no longer broken. He stood on his own two feet, swaying like a sapling. Upright, but subject to the whims of the breeze. His expression was vacant, his eyes empty.

“You healed his limbs,” Lyssa murmured.

“I believe his own healing ability did that. It is exceptionally strong. His mind wasn’t. It’s gone and will not return. An example to the others while the Queen decides their fate.”

He hoped Ruth approved of the compromise. “I’ll help you transport them to the Fae world,” he told Maddock, who seemed in a rare state of speechlessness. “And then I’m taking you to see Charlie. Or the inside of a hospital.”

When Maddock pulled his gaze away from Pallas to answer, the words died on his lips. The others followed the direction of his gaze and similar expressions of astonishment or speculation gripped them.

“What is it?” Merc asked.

“I expect none of you is carrying a mirror,” Maddock said dryly. He removed a compact from a pocket of his long coat, and winced as the movement pulled against his injured side. “Not for powdering my nose,” he said at Gideon’s smirk. “Useful for certain spell work.”

He extended it to Merc, the mirror open so Merc could gaze down into it.

His eyes had changed. They were black, with a glimmering hint of silver. There were no whites left.

Like a full angel.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Ruth stood, helpless and shaking, as Kaela and Garron were escorted out. When the Council followed, she moved to intercept Helga, but the Councilwoman held up a hand. “I know what you are going to say, Lady Ruth. It is regrettable, but until the law changes, it is what it is. Stay here. There’s no reason for you to witness this after everything else.”

“Why can’t they be separated?” Ruth demanded. “Lord Brian can do that, separate a vampire and a servant. He can wipe Garron’s mind, send him back to the human world.”

Not that either would want that, but compared to the alternative…

“They have likely been together too long for that to be effective, Lady Ruth. But it’s also not a matter of incompatibility between Mistress and servant. This is a message, and a punishment. It supports our laws. No matter how much I wish it didn’t.”

As Helga departed, Ruth spun toward Jessica and Anwyn. The made vampire and Mason’s servant were in agreement with Ruth, their expressions torn between horror, anger and denial. For Anwyn, as owner of a BDSM club, it had an additional significance. She knew Dominant and submissive characteristics had no rules other than love itself.

Something Ruth had realized herself, when she saw her parents lying together in their kitchen.

“We have to stop this,” she said. “Try to get to Lyssa through your vampires or Gideon. I’ll keep doing the same with Merc.”

The women nodded. But Anwyn looked between both women, the sable-haired Mistress’s expression tense. “We have to go out there. We won’t be able to stop them in time if we wait here for a response.”

None of them wanted to be present if Ruth’s plan failed, but the logic was sound. They hurried after the Council. Ruth’s mind was screaming, reaching out, but Merc wasn’t answering. Which meant they were in the middle of something as terrible. She’d keep trying. Hoping. Praying.

They came to a halt at the entrance to the courtyard.

Lord Belizar stood formally in the center of the watching Council members. Carola and Helga’s faces held regret, but different types. Helga, that it couldn’t be stopped, Carola that it had been made necessary, in her opinion, by Kaela’s actions. Lords Welles, Walton and Stewart had mixed reactions. Lord Walton seemed to share some of Helga’s feelings on it, though less strongly. Welles and Stewart just looked impatient to have it done so they could get back to other Council business.

Belizar’s age and experience made it impossible to read his thoughts if he did not care to share them, and since Ruth could tell nothing of what he was thinking, beyond a certain tension in his shoulders, this was one of those times.

Several marked servants stood along the outdoor walkways, their expressions strained. Word had spread. Perhaps Belizar had required a handful to be present. Witnesses to the lesson.

The Council servants were here. With his rugged warrior’s appearance, large size, blond hair and blue eyes, Torrence was nicknamed the Viking. Ruth knew he’d been with Helga a long time. Right now, a corpse would have had more expression than he had. Was the compulsion to appear neutral, a proper Council servant, eating him alive inside?

Glancing upward, she saw Debra, Lord Brian’s servant, on one of the balconies overlooking the courtyard. Her eyes were filled with emotion, her mouth tight, hands gripping the railing. Lord Brian stood beside her. His expression was grave, and he put a hand on her shoulder.

Even if he felt as Helga did, he would not stop the execution of a sentence in accordance with Council laws.

After all, at the end of the day, it was just a human, right?

Elisa flashed through her mind. Jacob, Gideon, Jessica…all of them. Oh, fucking hell, how could she have ever thought this was okay? Fucking “acceptable.”

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