The Vampire's Pet: Part One

“What happened?”

“Our forces eventually pushed the Spencers out and the Elder Spencer was sentenced to death. The sons are imprisoned and their children are now in our service. Their family is disinherited. We’ve taken their lands and titles and awarded them to the Campbells, who fought with us.”

I held my head in my hands and tried to absorb it all.

I sat up. “What will happen to the girl who came with me and her friend? They’re innocents in this.”

“Evan said he’d award them to the soldiers who captured you, as booty.”

“But Calla is my pet. I’ve claimed her. I’ve asked Gerard to be her protector in my absence. He’s sworn to return her and her friend to their families. To wipe their memories…”

“You can’t pay his price. Your inheritance has been frozen. You have no money, Kier. If you can’t pay, he won’t take them on.”

I ran my cuffed hands through my hair, exasperated.

“Please, ask Evan to come and see me at least once before he sentences me.”

She stood and straightened her dress. “I’ll try but his heart is hardened because of Father’s death, which he blames on you.”

I stood and went to where she was beside the door. “Is this goodbye? Please come back and see me again, no matter what happens.”

“I will, brother,” she said and stroked my cheek with clear affection. “I still love you, even if Evan has shut off all emotions towards you.”

“Thank you,” I said and she embraced me, and I was helpless to do anything because of my restraints. She kissed my cheeks and then left, her eyes brimming with tears.

Hours passed, and I watched the small beam of sunlight move across the far wall of my cell as the day ended and night came around once more. I lost all hope that Calla and Chelsea would be returned to their homes and families. The fate that awaited them made my heart squeeze for I knew that they would become nothing more than food to my brother’s guards — a rough lot who saw mortals as feedstock rather than people.

Finally, more than twenty four hours after Laurice left me, the guards opened my door and admitted my younger brother, Evan.

They entered the cell with him, their weapons drawn and at the ready — as if I could do anything to him, considering my silver restraints. I’d had nothing more than a small cup of blood since

earlier the previous night and was weak.

“You wanted to see me?”

I frowned, scarcely believing my brother could be so cold-hearted towards me.

“Of course I did, brother,” I said, trying to stand, but having to sit back down again due to weakness. “I want to plead my case with you, and ask that I be given a fair trial with counsel. I’ve not had that. I protest my innocence completely of all charges.”

His face remained like stone, his eyes half-lidded. He so resembled my father despite the fact that his hair had been shorn and his beard shaven. Dark eyes glared back at me, accusatory. His fists were clenched at his side, like he was holding himself back from attacking me.

“I’ve seen the evidence as has the magister. It’s clear enough you conspired with the Spencers, with Mark Spencer in particular, to kill our father and take over as Prince.”

I shook my head vehemently. “I did not. I deny it completely. I never met with Mark Spencer — not in the year before I left for San Francisco. You can ask him.”

“No, I cant,” Evan said, one corner of his mouth turning up in a grin. “He’s dead. Killed when our forces retook the mansion.”

I stared at the floor, not knowing how to appeal to my brother. He truly believed I was guilty of arranging the murder of our father.

“If you won’t grant me a trial, please send the two young women back to their homes for me. They’re innocent bystanders in all this and should have their memories wiped and returned to their families.”

“The guards have already asked to claim them because of your inability to protect them.”

“Please,” I said, my gut in a knot over the fate Calla and Chelsea would face if they became pets for the guards. “Let me wipe their memories and please send them back. I appeal to your mercy, brother. It’s the honorable thing to do.”

He stared at me, a muscle in his jaw tensing. “All right. I’ll send them to you. You can wipe their memories and I’ll return them. But you must promise me that you won’t fight me in this matter. You must swear allegiance to me and accept whatever the outcome of your trial may be.”

“I’ll get a trial?”