“All enter,” the voice called
into the hallway. Drei, who had held me tightly and kissed my forehead when I’d
exited the room, now walked to stand on the other side of Mitchell again as we
filed into the room to hear Tudor deliver the verdict.
“Abriel Jones, it has been
unanimously decided your alternative suggestion will be…” He carefully regarded
the paper in his hands for an extended pause. I knew all of them were watching
me—Valetta, Mitchell and Drei confusedly, the Council unfeelingly—waiting read
a response on my face. “…accepted.”
I gasped, shocked, relieved and
excited. It had worked. This was a good omen, I hoped. If not, at least I spent
my luck on someone important.
“Under one condition,” he
continued, sucking away my joy. “It has been voted that you will only be given
two years, with a possible extension of three months upon request and with
reasonable explanation. Until then, all penalties and charges are suspended.”
“Thank you,” I said, my mind
racing to figure out what kind of timeline I would need if I only had two years
for sure. I was grateful still, but this meant we needed to hit the ground
running; there was no room for delays or mistakes.
“Adjourned,” the presiding
vampire announced. “You shall all be returned to wheresoever you desire.”
With that, we were escorted from
the room and back through the mansion to the car. None of the Council had moved
and I wondered if they ever did. It was a strange thought, but I was hungry,
exhausted, and emotionally spent; additionally, I had to figure out how to
make—what the Council would consider to be—significant progress in two years. Mentally
entertaining the thought of those eight never leaving that room was the only
thing keeping me sane, and sanity was a good thing at this point. With two
years, every moment counted. At the end of those two years, I probably wouldn’t
qualify for ingénue status given my bargaining.
I leaned against Drei on the car
ride home and he stroked my hair. It was comforting, the temporary relief and
happiness falling away from all of them combined with his loving touch.
“Can you roll your window down?”
I asked sleepily. I was starved, and any bit of fresh air helped. Drei and
Valetta both obliged. As we drove through the city, the night life in full
swing, it wasn’t long before I felt full, my contentedness adding to my
exhaustion.
“You will explain this
alternative option, yes?” Drei asked softly.
“Of course,” I replied, trying
not to fall asleep on them just yet. “I have two years to make significant progress
on my movement.”
Mitchell stared incredulously at
me; Valetta gaped. Drei’s hand stopped running through my hair and I glanced up
at him. I wished he hadn’t stopped.
“Two years for that?” Valetta asked.
“I had asked for three,” I said,
speaking more to Drei than to the others. His eyes were unsure and unfocused. He
was as worried as I was about how much the Council’s decision might change in
two years if it didn’t happen. “But we can do it.”
“We shall stay to assist in any
way possible,” Mitchell said.
“Thank you,” I responded,
wishing I could sleep for now. I’d be able to think better with some rest.
“What do we do first?” Drei asked,
squeezing my hand as though to reassure himself as the shock lessened.
“First
we sleep,” I insisted, closing my eyes—I caught Drei’s thought about that being
a first. Any more thinking and it felt like my brain would implode, but he
could probably guess that much. “Then we start…and hope two years is enough.”
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