Page 85 of Bitten Vampire
The Herald frowns. “Blood will name your sire; it cannot divine their intent. Tread carefully, Winifred Crowsdale, if this petition proves frivolous, the Council will consider sanctions under Accord Code 12.2, Contempt of Tribunal. Proceed, if you still wish.”
I pause, letting the moment stretch.
Valdarr’s father smirks.
I draw a deep—though unnecessary—breath and steady myself.
“The vampire who broke our laws, who fed from an unwilling human, killed her, and turned her by accident…”
I raise one hand and point at the throne.
“…is our revered Grand Master.”
Chaos erupts in the gallery as vampires leap to their feet, shouting.
Down here, silence.
The Grand Master does not protest at first; for a second, his eyes flash red. He inclines his head a millimetre towards the Herald. When he speaks, the temperature in the hall seems to drop.
“Strike that from the record. A rogue mistake dares to spit slander at this court. Have we sunk so low that any unregistered aberration may level a charge at the Crown without evidence? Herald, you will silence her, or I will. Sanction her for contempt. Tear her tongue out if you must. I do not answer to gutter-born lies.”
His gaze spears Valdarr. “And you, you bring this thing into my hall to bark at your betters? You disgrace your blood.”
“You will stand down, Grand Master. The Council—not you—decides what is stricken,” the Herald replies.
“Then decide quickly, before I decide for you.”
The Herald ignores the Grand Master’s threat and narrows his eyes at me. “That is a grave accusation, Winifred Crowsdale.”
“I stand by it, and I invoke Accord Code 101.4, the Right of Blood Provenance, andAccord Code 212.3, Ethereal Memory Capture and Admissibility. Let blood and memory speak.”
A hairline crack appears in the marble arm of the Grand Master’s throne.
“So entered. By authority of this Court under Codes 101.4 and 212.3, the Ministry of Magic will perform bloodline verification and an Ethereal Memory Capture?—”
“When her blood speaks and fails, will you cut her head off here or drag her through the streets and make it… poetic?” the Grand Master snarls, interrupting.
“The Council withholds judgment until both attestations are complete and places Clan Blóðvakt under Court protection pending sentence,” the Herald continues.
We have won, for now. I betray no relief.
There’s no chance the bloodline verification will succeed. House turned me—at best, she borrowed a little magic from the nearest vampire.
The Grand Master knows he didn’t sire me, so he may hesitate to kill us while he seeks vindication before the Court. No one enjoys being accused of a crime they didn’t commit. I can practically see steam rising from the heat of his temper.
The Grand Master’s fingers twitch—a signal too subtle for most. But I have seen this before—he is about to run and he needs a distraction.
Gripping Valdarr’s wrist, I signal the clan with my other hand, held low behind my back.
Five—my splayed fingers mark the countdown.
Four—I drop one finger and squeeze Valdarr’s wrist.
Three—another finger, another squeeze.
Two.
One.
