“Forgive me for saying so, but you seem rather nervous, sir,” Theodore commented.
The attention of the crowd zoomed in on this man and anticipation rose. They needed a scapegoat, someone to channel their outrage on, and this man was a prime target.
“You’re right. I am nervous. The idea of vampires terrifies me,” the man replied, his voice a jittery mess.
Theodore took a step closer to him and pursed his lips. My attention was drawn to Rita. She wasn’t looking at the man her father had singled out. Instead, she was scanning the crowd, inspecting each face one by one. Thankfully, we were too out of the way for her to see us yet.
“Oh? And what exactly happened to your neck?” Theodore questioned.
“M-my neck?” the man stammered. “I don’t understand.”
“Some sort of marks are present,” Theodore explained before grabbing his collar and pulling it down. Those standing nearest to the man gasped in horror, and although I wasn’t close enough to see, I had a good idea what was discovered. Vampire bite marks. This guy must’ve been a blood donor for some vamp who told him to go along and observe what was happening.
“You are the spy,” Theodore accused in what I assumed was feigned shock and indignation. I had to admit, he was putting on a good show for the crowd.
“Please,” the man cried, tears running down his cheeks. “I was only doing what she asked me to. She compelled me to tell her of the plans to burn the homes of vampires. I had no other choice but to do it.”
“We always have a choice,” Theodore said dismissively. “And now you will have to face the judgement of your peers for what you have done.” He stopped and turned to address the crowd. “What do you all think we should do with him?”
I liked to think I was hard to shock, but I was taken aback when people started shouting suggestions like, “Hang him,” and “Shoot him.” How quickly they resorted to savagery. Whoever coined the term, ‘the madness of crowds’ was spot on, because this was pure insanity.
A conflict raged within me. I didn’t want to allow this man to be killed. But if I stepped up and tried to stop it, I’d basically be putting nooses around all our necks.
“Shoot him?” Theodore questioned. “Are you sure?”
My gaze was drawn to the hand that emerged from his pocket. Nobody else was looking, but his fingers began to move in rapid motions. He was casting a spell. Something small and dark formed in his hand. He’d just magicked himself a gun!
A man standing behind him got an odd, glazed look in his eyes as he stepped up close to Theodore, who then slipped the gun into his hand. The man stepped in front of the vamp blood donor and raised the gun to his head. Exclamations of surprise and shouts of encouragement erupted as the man prepared to shoot the guy who’d been labelled as a spy.
My fingers twitched as I held Alora close. I only had seconds to decide whether or not to intervene.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to act, because someone else did.
Unfortunately, that person was Tegan.
9.
Tegan
Why was I doing this?
Why the hell was I doing this?
Of course, I knew the answer. I couldn’t stand by and let a man be killed. I simply couldn’t
“Stop!” I shouted, stepping forward with my hand braced in front of me. Sparks trickled from my palm, and I kept them there, a steady stream of magical defence.
Theodore’s gaze immediately darted to me, and a grin shaped his lips a moment before he plastered a look of terror on his face. “My goodness, who are you? What are those?” There was a false look of fear in his eyes as he stared at the magic coming from my hand.
Some people saw my sparks and screamed in terror, while others simply stared at me, gobsmacked. Rita walked through the gap in the crowd until she was standing in front of me. Her head tilted to the side curiously, like I was a stranger she had the odd sense she knew from somewhere.
I wanted to say so many things to her, but my mouth wouldn’t work. Emotion caught in my throat. Seeing someone you considered one of your closest friends look at you like they didn’t even know you was heart-breaking.
“Rita,” I whispered.
Her name seemed to be the only word I could think to say in that moment.
“Who is she?” someone shouted.
“What’s wrong with her hand?” another wailed in fear.
“Rita,” I whispered again but saying her name didn’t elicit any response.
Suddenly, Theodore marched toward us and pulled Rita away from me as though to protect her. I felt like laughing and crying all at the same time.
“Don’t hurt my daughter, you … you abomination!” he cried, loud enough for everyone to hear.