Page 57 of Blood Freed

Marcus freezes. The threat to Selene hangs in the air like poison.

“Unless you have proof of that allegation, I suggest you reconsider that statement, Marlowe,” Selene snaps.

“Proof?” Lucien scoffs. “You mean like the proof you have against me?”

“Lady Nightshade’s financial evidence is circumstantial at best,” Valmont interjects. “And Lord Thorne’s blood consumption data could be explained by numerous factors.”

“Indeed,” Isabella Montague’s cool voice joins in. “These accusations against Lord Marlowe seem designed to deflect from Soren’s own admitted guilt.” She turns her amber eyes to Lucien. “You have my full support in this matter. Lord Daire is on trial today, not you.”

My gut twists as I watch the Council’s mood shift. Even Alaric, who I’d hoped might speak up again, simply sits back in his chair, his expression carefully neutral.

One by one, the voices of support fall silent. I see the fear in their eyes – fear of exposure, fear of their own secrets coming to light. Doubt that any of this is even true. The Bloodbane is a shame few would risk having revealed.

Only Selene and Elias still stand with Marcus, along with a handful of younger Council members. But their voices are drowned out by the tide of agreement with Lucien’s version of events.

“The evidence suggests Maxwell Kern took his own life, troubled by his progeny’s betrayal,” Valmont declares. “And these wild accusations against Lord Marlowe are nothing but desperate attempts to avoid justice.”

The chamber fills with murmurs of agreement. I catch glimpses of faces I know harbor the same affliction I do, but they turn away, unwilling to risk exposure.

They’re afraid.

I watch as Arabella rises, her silver hair gleaming. The verdict I knew was coming still sucks the wind from me.

“Soren Daire, you have confessed to crimes against both vampire and witch kind. The operation of blood farming facilities represents a grave threat to the peace we’ve maintained for centuries.” Her voice echoes off the marble columns. “Moreover, by defying your Maker’s Bond, you broke one of the most fundamental laws of our kind…and very likely caused your maker to take his own life.”

“No!” I object. They can say what they like about me, but this is one thing I can’t accept. “No, I never—”

“The Assembly finds you guilty, Lord Daire,” she interrupts me. “You are sentenced to the Sun Trail at dawn tomorrow.”

Lucien’s satisfaction radiates across the chamber. His web of influence is complete – I see it now in every averted gaze, every tense shoulder. Even those who suspect the truth about the Bloodbane’s spread through their ranks would rather see me die than risk exposure.

“Furthermore,” Arabella continues, “Lord Marlowe will oversee the implementation of new security measures to prevent such operations from occurring again.”

The irony would be laughable if it weren’t so devastating. They’re handing even more power to the architect of everything they claim to oppose.

Marcus catches my eye from across the chamber. My unexpected ally. His slight nod tells me he won’t give up the fight, even after I’m gone. He’ll keep gathering evidence, keep building resistance. But we both know it won’t be enough.

Not in time to save me.

I’ll just have to take consolation in the knowledge that they’ll continue the fight after I’m gone.

“Until dawn,” Arabella pronounces, “you will be held under guard. Do you have any final words for this Council?”

I look around the chamber one last time at the faces of those who’ve chosen fear over truth. “Only that cowardice breeds corruption. And you’ve chosen both.”

The guards step forward to escort me out. As I turn, I catch Lucien’s smirk. He’s won this round – strengthened his position while eliminating a threat. But his victory has revealed just how deep his influence runs.

The Sun Trail awaits at dawn. Unless something changes dramatically in the next few hours, I’ll face it alone.

20

Chapter 20

Mia

Ican’t stop huggingthem. These two women who shared the nightmare I lived through in that hellhole. But now, it’s time to get back to the plan.

“Are you ready?” I ask Sabine. She’s the more resilient of the two. Jemma, with her fair hair and wide hazel eyes, looks like a wild creature about to take flight. Not that I blame her.

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