Eternal: Chapter Three, Part 4

“Abriel Jones,” the voice summoned, yanking me from my plotting. I hadn’t realized Drei had exited.

Drei stood before me, a hand outstretched to help me stand. I took it without hesitation, allowing him to pull me into his arms for a brief moment. His touch was assuring, though pain and fear washed from him. I was used to feeling pain from him, but I couldn’t remember him this afraid. There had been times where he had felt fear, but not this strongly. It was unlike him. I squeezed his hand, realizing all I could do was hope this worked.

The room hadn’t changed, not that I had expected it to. But it almost felt like sunlight should be filtering in through the shuttered windows. I was greeted, however, by the same flickering lamp light and gloom.

“We shall be asking questions regarding your relationship with Miss Bevinston, Mr. Jameson, and Mr. Valmoritim,” the one woman—sitting to the right of Tudor—explained in a clipped voice. “When and how did you come to acquaint yourself with Mr. Valmoritim?”

“Drei? I’ve been acquainted with him for six years Valentine’s Day this year. He stopped two thugs from mugging and raping, and possibly murdering, me,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as defensive as I felt. If they wanted me to put him in the light of a villain, they weren’t going to succeed. Not even Valetta, or Drei himself, could make me see him that way.

“When did you become acquainted with Miss Bevinston and Mr. Jameson?” she asked, her fingers laced and resting before her on the table. She sounded impatient, which didn’t help me to remain calm. If I wasn’t careful, I could be as snippy as she seemed to be.

“At the elemental safe camp Drei led. That’s where he took me after I lost control at school. Both Valetta and Mitchell worked under him,” I elaborated, unsure how much or how little to say. “We’re friends.”

“When did you leave this camp?”

“Just over three years ago, February.”

“Did anyone accompany you?” she pressed, leaning forward slightly.

“Drei did. He left Valetta in charge of the camp,” I said, staring at her. My heart was racing because I didn’t want to lie, but the truth sounded so incriminating, especially considering how she asked each question.

“Was there anything Mr. Valmoritim did to seduce you, appear dishonorable, or the like?”

Shaking my head, I replied, “No. He set things up so I could work with Caroline and see how to run a revolution; he made sure I stayed healthy because I have problems with insomnia; he was even patient and encouraging when I was impatient and frustrated that I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing.”

“There is no need to be defensive, Miss Jones,” the presiding vampire interrupted, lightly tapping his fingernails on the desk before him. “You are not the one on trial.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the rash reply begging to escape. I might not have been the one on trial, but I might as well have been.

“May I continue, sir?” the woman asked in her clipped, impatient way. When he nodded, she inquired, “From the previous interrogations, it has been understood that you and Mr. Valmoritim were separated for a time. How long were you separated and why?”

“Almost eight months.” I didn’t want to go into the why because it really was complicated. But I didn’t want to be rudely reminded to answer the question, either. I’d need them in a decent mood if my bargain was going to work and that, unfortunately, meant playing nice. “It was because he thought I was lying to him about my involvement with Caroline and her project. The situation might have been avoided if we had communicated with each other better,” I added. What happened wasn’t entirely his fault. A great deal of it was mine and Caroline’s, though hers was more indirect than anything else.

“What were the circumstances, as you understand them to be, surrounding your turning?”

“I was shot;” I shrugged. How much of an answer did she want? When she didn’t say anything, I added, “I was already dead. Or maybe I was still dying and just thought I was dead. Either way, I woke up and that’s when Drei told me what he had done.”

“What was his reason behind the act?” she asked, her eyes glinting as if this was the answer that would make the case against him.

“He loves me,” I replied softly, diverting my gaze downward—not from embarrassment or shame, but because it felt like I had betrayed him. The truth here wasn’t setting anyone free. It was condemning us all. “Because, he said, he couldn’t imagine living without me.”

“What are your personal feelings for Mr. Valmoritim?”

Catching her gaze, wanting to ensure she received my answer and wasn’t going to twist it to suit their cause, I responded, “I love him with all of my heart.” She opened her mouth as if to say that it wasn’t love but I interrupted her saying, “And it is not some effect of seduction, or attraction, or anything he’s done intentionally. It was my decision to love him long before I ever knew he loved me.” Tears pressed at my eyes. I doubted they were moved at all, but I couldn’t contain my feelings when I was starving or guilt-ridden, trying to be polite and hoping against odds they would take my suggestion.

“It is entirely possible you have imagined loving—”

“It isn’t,” I interrupted the presiding vampire. Not smart, I know. And not playing nice, either. But this was one thing I knew for sure, and they didn’t. Nothing they said could convince me I was wrong in this. “And I know because I spent a year trying to convince myself not to love him;” I cried, any restraint I had over my emotions lost. “I know what happened, and we both tried not to love each other and to no avail.”

Silence flooded the room as they stared at me, either shocked or indignant I had interrupted and refused to go along with whatever they said. My hands worked to clear the tears from my eyes as I struggled to regain some sense of composure. This wasn’t over yet.