Hey guys and gals,
Not the longest of chapters but I've been a little swamped with exam stuff (ew, I know). I think I should post something or you'll all kill me. Promise the next one will be longer.
Disclaimer - I am not Richelle Mead, unfortunately.
Enjoy!
Chapter Nine
The next few hours were the worst. I had the constant, niggling feeling that there was something going on that I should have been clued in on but wasn't. My pains and panics now dulled by the thrumming heat of the vodka, I paced the tiny cell like an agitated lion. Zeno watched me for a while, silent with eyes full of questions, but got bored soon and retired to catch up on some much needed Z's. I tried to keep a track of how much time passed, but it was impossible in the sunless shell of a prison. I bit my fingernails down to nubs and worried so violently that I was sure I was making a rut in the concrete floor. What was going on? Something had changed, I could feel it, but what? What had Cow- Dimitri said? That a meeting didn't go well? What meeting? I was certain it was about what to do with Zeno and me. But what did he mean by "not well"? Not well, as in they were voting us off to a crappier island? Or not well, as in they were throwing us to the cannibals? The tension and senseless cramping of my thoughts sizzled in the air and I kept huffing big mouthfuls of it, frustrated and suffocated. I hated not knowing what was happening out there. Whatever it was, it would most likely decide whether we lived or died and I felt like that was probably something I should have gotten a say in. And yet, here I was, trapped down this white little hole with no eyes or ears on the outside. I thought this must've been how sheep felt while waiting in the slaughter house.
What if this was it? The thought stopped me dead. I stared fixedly at a bland, noncommittal spot on the wall, frozen. What if they decided that we weren't of better use to them alive? I hadn't thought too hard about it before then but it was a total possibility. Probably the most likely one. If the Russians' conversation was anything to go by, the Moroi considered us a very real threat to their society. If what they'd said was true then 'wolves were openly attacking the vampire world and, involved or not, I was the enemy. They could kill us just to prove a point. This could be my last few moments alive. This shithole could be my final resting place.
My eyes travelled to Zeno's sleeping form. He was curled on his side, his grasshopper legs folded into his chest and his head resting on his crossed wrists. His lips were slack and hanging open to let out a faint, soft snore that babbled in the back of his throat. He was so peaceful and I found myself wondering if he would look as relaxed in his coffin.
That was the wrong thing to think. A drowning wave of nausea rolled over me and my sight was suddenly covered in a watery film. I caught my breath in a stuttering sob. Clamping my hand over my mouth, my knees buckled under me and I all but fell to the ground. How had everything become so hopeless? My family was gone, I was most likely next, and there was no way to get the last person I loved out of the firing line. If I could have bargained my life for his, I would have. But they, the vampires... they would never set him free. No matter that he was just a kid. No matter that he was about as capable of hurting a fly as a kitten was of killing a rhinoceros. No matter that neither of us had anything to do with this big, screwed-up, category ten mess. I thought Anatolii genuinely believed that we were innocent and he would do what he could to help us, but who was he? Just some lowly dhampir guardian who was willing to go against his own race for a couple of strangers purely because he had a hunch. There was no way he could convince the vamps in charge that we were legit. They would kill the both of us.
I worried for hours and by the time I began to doze my eyes were aching with the effort of keeping all the tears in. The world was just starting to swim in that way it does when you're just about to give in to sleep when the sharp crack of dress shoes jerked me back into awareness. Somehow, I'd ended up lying on my back and I shot up with sharp intake of breath. I did a quick rub of my face and turned just as the figure came into view. My head was a bit cotton-stuffed and my mouth tasted like early morning as I squinted into the blare of the lights. I was so sick of feeling hung-over.
"Do you want the good news or the bad news?"
I blinked at Anatolii. Swallowed. Oh God, this was it. "Um. Good?"
"The good news is that the council has decided to push up your trial date, so you might be getting out of here sooner rather than later," he said, shooting me a crooked grin.
Hold up. I got a trial? "And the bad news?"
His smile faltered just the tiniest of increments. "The bad news is that the date's today so you might want to freshen up a bit."
The bathroom was luxurious. I stood for a stunned moment in the centre of it, gaping. It was bigger than the whole first story of our house. The floors were a shinning peachy sort of gold, so clean I could see my grimy, tired reflection in it. I didn't linger on that for too long. It was obviously surrounded by rooms as there were no windows (don't think that didn't escape my notice) but light seemed to stream from everywhere and bounce off everything. But it was a different light from down in the prison cells. It lacked the harsh, sterile, unforgiving whiteness. It was warmer and didn't hurt my eyes. There was a line of three gold plated sinks and a mirror that stretched the full length of one wall, making the room seem even bigger and more decadent. The toilet sparkled. There was a shower that could've held a fully grown horse and a claw footed tub the size of a small car. After peeing, it took me a while but I eventually decided to stick with the shower. I didn't think I'd have time for a soak. But I'd have to remember it for later.
If I got a later.
It was the best shower I'd ever had. As soon as the steaming hot water hit my back I could feel a hundred or so hours of sleepless tension just roll off my shoulders and spiral down the drain. Even the drain was pretty. I think I was the dirtiest thing in that bathroom – including the toilet. I let my neck hang and swing under the torrent of beautiful water, working a various assortments of lotions through the horrific nest that my hair had become. I scrubbed my skin until it went pink and sensitive. Then I just stood there in the waterfall and breathed. Was I ready for this? If this was my last day, my last shower, could I deal with that? The answer was a flat no but I didn't really have much of a choice. This was either the final chapter or it wasn't and I had no control over which outcome would arise. Despite the whole trial cover, I knew this was no longer a fight. The decision had already been made and this was nothing but pretence. I could proclaim innocence until my hair went white and my teeth fell out but they would never take my word for anything. This was purely an assessment of evidence and the evidence was that someone – probably me – was attacking vampire kind. Somehow, I didn't think they let that sort of thing go with a light slap on the wrist.
I climbed reluctantly out of heaven and towelled myself dry. I flicked the fan on to clear out the mist and rubbed the condensation off the mirror. I actually looked almost normal. Deep, dark bags sat atop my cheekbones and my usually porcelain skin was a sickly kind of pale, but my eyes were a bright, striking blue-green again and my hair didn't look like it was going to eat my face so much. Finding an old-fashioned sliver comb in one of the under-sink draws, I managed to detangle the last few stubborn knots. I blow-dried my hair, closing my eyes as the hot air ran its smooth fingers over my scalp, and finally began to feel like a real person. Spotting a mound of clothes stacked on the fancy ornate seat, I threw my own clothes in what looked like the laundry basket and dressed. They'd found me underwear, bra and all. I didn't want to think about how they knew my size. There was a white blouse that hung way too baggy off my frame and some very soft, very expensive looking black slim jeans, topped off with a pair of white ballet slip-ons with little black bows on the toe. Not my first choice in footwear, but it would do. I suppose I didn't know the first thing about what to wear to court. I tried not to get too hung up over the fact that it was vampire clothes. They'd probably burn it all after I was finished anyway. One way or the other.
Taking a deep couple of breaths, I said goodbye to the pretty bathroom and stepped out into the hall. Waiting for me were about fifteen very rough-and-tumble looking guardians in three piece suits, a clean version of Zeno in a nice black button up shirt and a new pair of jeans, and Anatolii. He was dressed to the nines like his dhampir buddies in polished shoes, meticulously ironed slacks and a boring black tie done right up to his neck. It was the blandest kind of suit I'd ever seen but, I had to admit, he cleaned up very nice. He was propped up on the wall beside the door like the first time I'd seen him in the interrogation room, all casual and blasé. That sly little smile twitched at his lips, as if the world around us faintly amused him. Despite the lacklustre of the suit's cut and colour, it fell on him perfectly, accentuating the lean muscles of his shoulders. I could smell a thin trail of him, like mint and pine sap, contrasting and simultaneously mixed together like wild, biting ice and a simmering fireplace in a winter storm. Something told me it wasn't cologne and I noted that I could now smell people. Awesome.
My eyes met his, staring straight back at me. His gaze racked my face for the smallest of moments, skimming my hair that now fell in a light, shimmery cascade across my shoulders and down my back. His eyebrows were hiding in his own swoop of hair, still as flawlessly unruly as ever, despite the polished air that dominated the rest of him. Boy really needed a hair cut. He pulled his eyes to my own, his brows finding their way back to their original places. The quietly entertained look had dropped from his face and had been replaced by something like muffled surprise. I suppose, with it being the first time he'd seen me clean and fully dressed, he might have been a little thrown off balance.
Neither of us were moving and I think something might have happened then. Not like a spark, or anything. Just a connection, a silent communication. He knew something, something he wasn't telling me. Something I didn't necessarily need to know, but seriously involved me none the less. I saw it there, obscured in his lightning eyes. I didn't ask what it was, because he wouldn't tell me. I knew the answer I would get. Just like he didn't ask if I was ready. He could see that I wasn't. I knew he could see it because I made no effort to hide it. I was scared and alone and totally not ready. But I would do it without repute because this was my only slim chance of getting Zeno out. This wasn't about me anymore. I didn't care what happened to me, just as long as I could convince them to let him go.
Anatolii pushed himself off the wall with dhampir grace. A hard curtain settled over his face as he told the other guardians how to stand, where to croud around Zeno and I. Without another look at me, the Russian lead us all down the stone hall. Walking at a brisk stride, Zeno gripped my hand for a second and then just as quickly let go, a silent solace for the both of us. I steeled myself for what was coming next.
They had to let him go. Then I would let them kill me.
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Later, homes. xoxoxox
