Chapter 95 The Home Office
COUNT ALTERONI
The emergency session convenes at noon. Six hours after the blood club attack. Everyone's furious.
Mordaunt leads the charge. "Callum Brennan attacked a legitimate business. Killed three hunters. Destroyed property. This is open warfare."
"He was rescuing a kidnapped person," I counter. "Valentina Corvino was being held illegally."
"She was being detained pending investigation."
"In a cell. Without charges. Without trial." I stand. "That's kidnapping, not detention."
"Semantics." Lady Castellane waves dismissively. "The point is Brennan attacked us. Killed our people. Used explosives in a civilian area. This cannot be tolerated."
Around the table, the thirteen council members are split. Some look angry. Some thoughtful. A few almost impressed.
Lord Wessex speaks up. "We did provoke this. Mordaunt kidnapped the dhampir specifically to bait Brennan. The trap failed. We can't complain when prey fights back."
"The trap didn't fail," Mordaunt snaps. "It was interrupted by inside help. Someone in my organization betrayed us."
"Perhaps your organization has conscience," I suggest.
"Conscience is weakness."
"Is it? Or is it the thing that separates us from monsters?"
"We ARE monsters, Count Alteroni." Mordaunt leans forward. "We're vampires. We drink blood to survive. Pretending otherwise is delusion."
"We're vampires who choose how we behave. There's a difference between feeding and exploitation."
"Enough philosophy." Lord Harborough strikes his gavel. "We're here to decide response. Brennan attacked Parliamentary assets. What consequences?"
"Immediate extermination order," Mordaunt says. "No more delays. Hunters deploy tomorrow. Kill everyone in the Rookeries. End this."
"That's excessive," I argue. "Brennan rescued one person. That doesn't justify massacring seventy wolves."
"It justifies eliminating a threat before it grows." Mordaunt pulls out reports. "Intelligence says Brennan's crew is growing. Up to eighty wolves now. More joining daily. If we wait, the problem becomes unmanageable."
"Or we integrate them. Create official status for packless wolves. Bring them into the system."
"Rewarding rebellion. Again." Mordaunt's voice drips contempt. "You keep suggesting we legitimize criminals. It's tiresome."
"They're only criminals because our laws abandoned them."
"Laws exist for a reason."
"Laws exist to maintain power. Not justice."
Harborough's gavel slams down. "Enough. We're voting. Two options. Option one: maintain current timeline. Extermination in two weeks as originally scheduled. Option two: accelerate timeline. Extermination in one week."
"I propose option three," I say. "No extermination. Integration."
"Not on the table." Harborough glares at me. "You've lost that fight already. Vote is between two weeks and one week."
I've lost before the vote even happens. Typical.
"All in favor of two-week timeline?" Harborough asks.
My hand goes up. Lady Wessex. Count Pemberton. Three others.
Six votes.
"All in favor of one-week timeline?"
Mordaunt. Castellane. Harborough. Four others.
Seven votes.
"Motion carries. Extermination order accelerated to one week. Hunters deploy in seven days." Harborough's gavel falls. "Meeting adjourned."
The council disperses. I sit alone at the table.
One week.
I argued for integration. Lost.
I argued for maintaining timeline. Lost.
Every attempt to help the Rookeries wolves just makes things worse.
Mordaunt approaches. "You tried, Count. I'll give you that. But you're fighting for losing side."
"Maybe. But at least I'm fighting for the right side."
"Right and wrong are illusions. Power is real." He heads for the door. "One week. Then your wolves die. And you'll watch, knowing you failed them."
He leaves.
I sit in the empty chamber. Four hundred years of existence. Four hundred years of survival. And I'm about to watch eighty wolves get slaughtered because I couldn't convince thirteen vampires to show mercy.
I pull out my phone. Should I warn Callum? Tell him timeline moved up?
Mordaunt's probably monitoring my communications. Another warning means evidence of treason. Evidence means execution.
But staying silent means the Rookeries gets no warning. They think they have two weeks. Actually have one.
The phone feels heavy in my hand.
I make the decision. Type the message.
Timeline accelerated. Hunters coming in seven days, not fourteen. I'm sorry. I tried. -A
I send it through encrypted channels. Untraceable. Probably.
Then I delete the message. Destroy the phone. Sit in silence.
One week until extermination.
I tried to stop it.
Failed.
Again.
The weight of failure crushes me. Four hundred years of existence and I can't save eighty wolves from political expediency.
I stand. Leave the chamber. Walk through Parliamentary halls toward my office.
Other vampires avoid me. They know I voted against acceleration. Know I'm sympathetic to resistance.
I'm marked. Politically isolated. One more act of treason away from execution.
But at least Callum has warning. Seven days to prepare instead of being ambushed.
It's not much.
But it's something.
I tried.
Again.
And failed.
Again.
But at least I tried.
That has to count for something.
Even if it doesn't change anything.