Page 32 of The Diary of the Vam'pir Jacques

When Maryn regained consciousness, she had crawled well over a mile to get home, with the boys following, jeering and taunting her.

Recounting this incident makes my blood boil because it forever scarred Maryn, and I reckon it damaged all of us a little. Maryn left a bloody trail behind her. She easily might have died, and they wouldn’t have cared. If they had, they would’ve gother help, but instead, they followed her, still aiming kicks at her broken body.

As the list of her wounds was read out, a good few people paled and muttered angrily amongst themselves. The full extent of Maryn’s injuries had not been revealed for fear of repercussions.

The council sat at the front of the Hall on a raised dais. There was a curved wooden table which they remained behind and on top of which was littered with several small handheld computers. These held the information of the attack and would also record the trial of the boys.

The Hall itself had three tiers, the ground level, then one above that held over five hundred. Above that was another one, able to accommodate four hundred people. The ground level would hold six hundred. The hall was packed, indicating the intensity of public sentiment. Shockingly, the proceedings were being filmed live and projected onto big screens. There were also crowds of individuals outside.

When council member Tieran told of Maryn’s attack, several shouted abuse and called the boys’ names.

I admit to feeling murderous, if I could’ve strangled them myself, I would’ve. But the Vam’pirs had to show that we could conduct ourselves with dignity.

Li’zel, though, who was sitting next to me, growled in fury.

“If they refuse to act, I will. I’ll bloody drown the little bastards myself—and then let the parents come looking for me,” she muttered.

Li’zel may have a cruel streak running through her, but she was fiercely loyal to the Vam’pir’s and their children.

I looked at her and frowned.

“Don’t let anyone else hear you say that,” I snapped sharply.

Li’zel raised one perfectly arched eyebrow and smiled.

It left me cold.

“You might not be willing to act, Jacques, but an innocent has suffered, and I’m fed up with all this shit. I refuse to stand idly by and let it happen again.”

“Li’zel!” Seti hissed from in front of us.

“Seti, this is pointless. You wait and see,” she replied, studying one long, bright red fingernail. “This is bullshit, and you know it.”

I sighed. I understood full well where Li’zel was coming from. The legal system hadn’t punished anyone for the Great Experiment. It hadn’t protected us from Claudias and Maurick’s horror. They hadn’t dealt with Claudias for his complete disregard of human life, their feelings or the law.

People spread nasty rumours and lies about us, and the council sat there and took no action. It was as if they assumed that if they ignored the problem, then it would disappear. It hadn’t, it had only got worse, and now it was at the stage where a child had been mercilessly beaten.

Four years later, and here we are. A cure had not been discovered, and I’m uncertain if they were still seeking one. The number of people becoming terrified of us grew, and we were genuinely no better off. Yes, we traded with the community, but that was only because we had some of the country’s best craft smiths among us.

My father and Taran had bullied most into it. A few had willingly exchanged with us because of past ties. Others wanted to verify the rumours.

As sure as the fact we drank blood to live, we all knew that those boys who had beaten Maryn would not get a suitable punishment.

Li’zel was right. This whole trial was crap.

Tieran had been droning on and on, saying that the deed had been established through DNA testing and through the eyewitness recording of a memory probe done on Maryn. Heoffered to present this. The parents demanded that the memory be shown, still refusing to understand their precious children would have committed this terrible crime.

They didn’t realise showing the evidence would damn them out of hand and bring severe punishment.

After all, it couldn’t have been the boy’s fault. Maryn must have said or done something to cause the beating—she must’ve provoked them. Maybe a Vam’pir had appeared and threatened them, and they had attacked out of self-defence. The last was ludicrous, as the attack had happened in broad daylight.

We all sat there, tense, as the recording of the memory began.

A neural transmitter had extracted the memories painlessly. This took place while the patient was asleep, with no awareness on their part. It saved Maryn the process of reliving the attack in detail.

Father had authorised the procedure as Maryn was able to withstand it. Which was to say it was done the minute they stabilised her condition in the hospital. Father had watched this once already in horror, along with Marel. He now sat there grim-faced as the memory began to unfold, disgust clear on his face.

As the memories were seen through Maryn’s eyes, we didn’t see her, just parts of her body.

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