Page 72 of Nearly Dead

Fuck.I can’t prove them right.I have to focus on my goal.Freedom.

“She was never meant to be immortal,” Mortimer justifies.“As a human, she would only have had a few more years.In fact, for her last birthday she chose the mausoleum that she wanted me to have commissioned for her.”

Yeah.That would be inaccurate as well.I did not choose a mausoleum.He gave me a catalog and told me to pick one.It was morbid as fuck.

“It’s sad, but these are facts,” Mortimer continues.“If it comes to it.That is how we restore order.”

“What exactly are you proposing?”Mr.Deep Voice asks.

“Containment,” Mortimer answers promptly.“For her own safety and ours.A specially designed chamber where both her vampire and werewolf natures can be suppressed until we determine if balance is possible.Tests need to be run in a controlled environment.Magics would be in control of her.Not the wolves.Not the vampire.Her mausoleum is almost complete.We can keep her there.It is the place she chose.”

“And if it isn’t enough?”Madam Britannia asks, tapping her nails on the table close to the scroll as if to draw attention to the other hybrid’s deeds.

Mortimer’s pause speaks volumes.“Then more permanent measures for the hybrid may become necessary.”

My blood runs cold.He’s talking about killing me.My own uncle is calmly discussing my execution with his supernatural cronies as if it’s a regrettable but necessary step.

And my father is saying nothing.

“The hybrid has a name.”Astrid’s voice cuts through the room like ice.

I shift slightly to see my adoptive mother standing in the doorway opposite my position.She’s dressed in a tailored gray suit that makes her look like she’s stepped into a board meeting rather than a supernatural gathering.Her hair is pulled back in a severe bun, emphasizing the cold fury in her eyes.

Mortimer falters momentarily before recovering.“Lady Astrid.I didn’t expect you to join us.”

“Clearly.”She steps into the room, her heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor.Her eyes glance in my direction but don’t linger.I don’t know if she knows I’m there.“Otherwise you might have waited until I was present before discussing the fate of my daughter.”

“Your stepdaughter,” Mortimer corrects.“And this is a matter of supernatural security that transcends family sentiment.Davis is the Devine patriarch, and she is his blood.”

“Supernatural security.”Astrid arches one perfect eyebrow.“How curious that your concerns about security align so perfectly with your personal ambitions.”

A tense silence falls over the room.Mortimer’s face tightens.“I don’t know what you’re implying?—”

“Don’t you?”Astrid moves to the table, placing a slim folder before the assembled council members.“Perhaps these documents will refresh your memory.”

Elder Birch reaches for the folder first, opening it with a frown that deepens as he scans the contents.“What is this?”

“Evidence,” Astrid says calmly, “of Mortimer Devine’s correspondence with known necromancers over the past twenty years.Including, as you’ll note on page seventeen, arrangements regarding the possible acquisition of Tamara’s essence upon her death.”

Gasps and murmurs ripple through the gathering.I press a hand to my mouth to stifle my own shock.Mortimer has been planning my death for two decades?I try to think about what I might have done to him as an eight-year-old that would have caused this.

“These are fabrications,” Mortimer protests, but his voice has lost its conviction.

“Are they?”Astrid produces another folder.“Then perhaps you’d care to explain these financial records showing transfers from your accounts to known associates of Leviathan?It’s ironic that something as simple as human email and financial records are what revealed your intentions when you apparently loathe all things mortal.”

The room erupts in chaos.I watch as Mortimer’s face drains of color, his thin hands trembling as he reaches for the documents.

“You’ve been working with Leviathan?”Elder Birch demands, rising from his seat.“The very necromancer who threatens the balance you claim to protect?”

“It’s not what it appears,” Mortimer insists.“These were research grants?—”

“For research into hybrid creation,” Astrid finishes for him.“Specifically, research into creating a controllable hybrid that could harness multiple supernatural bloodlines.One you could reproduce.”

“She’s just a human,” Mortimer tries to explain.“The family embarrassment.This way her existence could have real meaning.”

My mind reels with the implications.Mortimer wasn’t just trying to get rid of me.He’s been studying me.Using me as a template for something worse.

“You’ve overstepped, Mortimer,” Madam Britannia says coldly.“The council does not look kindly on those who play both sides.”

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