Chapter 56: Chapter Fifty-Six

When Damien, Sinclair, and I arrived back at the house, we hung back before we entered the house, staying outside the ear reach of the coven inside.

"Do you know where to start?" Sinclair asked.

"Cristóbal and Anastasia, they tried to kill Bast the moment they saw her." I responded, looking to Damien who still hadn't said a word.

"I'm going to rip those two to shreds." He snarled, turning to look at Sinclair and I. "Sinclair, hang back while Sam and I talk to the coven, you'll know when to make yourself known." He said, walking forward up the steps.

I followed behind closely, watching Damien as he strode forward. 'Sinclair was able to snap him out of his depressive state, and instead put him on a rage mission. What will happen once he's killed the one responsible for hospitalizing Bast? Would he fall back into his numb depression, or would Sinclair's words continue to propel him forward?' I had no choice but to wait and see, but I hoped it was the latter.

"How is the human?" Geoffrey asked, standing as Damien and I entered the room.

"Alive." Damien said, casting a glance at Geoffrey before returning to his seat, at the head of the table.

"Then why do you still have one golden eye?" Erica asked, her thick European accent think with amusement.

'What about this situation does she find amusing?' I thought to myself, using every ounce of willpower I had not to lunge over and rip the smug look off of her face.

"Who threw the plate?" Damien asked, ignoring Erica with a scowl. I found myself unsurprised that no one responded. "Very well then." Damien said standing, and walking around the table slowly, causing every one to halt in fear, waiting for him to pass by them before relaxing. Once he got to the end of the table, opposite of where he sat, he stopped, looking down at Anastasia and Cristóbal.

He stood there for a few minutes, enjoying the fear on their faces, before continuing his walk. "Who here disagrees with the recreant law I've set forth? Both Elder and Lieutenant cast your vote." He said, looking around the room at the Vampires who raised their hands. Out of the seven elders, four raised their hands. And out of the seven lieutenants, two raised their hands.

He looked around the room, and looked at those who raised their hands, before nodding softly. "And how many of you have a reason for your prejudice towards recreants?" In response to this, all but one of the Lieutenants lowered his hand. "Very well, Sinclair." Damien said, lifting his head towards the door.

Everyone followed his gaze, and the moment they saw Sinclair standing in the doorway, his golden eyes burning like hellfire, a collective gasp went through the room. Sinclair stepped forward, closing the door behind him, looking around the room at those who had their hands raised. A small smile crept on his face as he looked at Damien, waiting for the signal. He didn't have to wait long before Damien gave the sign, he looked over at me, then looked at Erica.

At once the three of us lunged forward; I went for Erica's esophagus, ripping it out in one swift movement. Sinclair went for Geoffrey and his lieutenant, wrapping his hand around their throats before he tackled them to the ground. He snarled as he slammed them down with so much force, their sculls caved in.

Damien attacked Cristóbal, putting one leg on his chest, while he ripped his arms off, spraying blood throughout the room. He saved Anastasia for last, his eyes filled with gratification as he backed her into a corner, before grabbing her by the throat. He chortled as he tightened his grip around her, smiling as he turned his hand to the side, successfully breaking her neck with a satisfying snap.

"What is your justification for your hatred on recreants?" I asked the lieutenant who'd lowered his hand.

His hazel eyes were wide with terror as he watched Sinclair, backing away slowly. "A recreant killed my family."

Sinclair seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded at the man. "I see that as a good reason to dislike recreants. Lucifer?"

Damien nodded his agreement, then looked at the vampires who remained alive, cowering. "If I don't receive a straightforward answer, I will kill every last one of you. Who was responsible for Bast?"

"Cristóbal." One of the women mumbled, barely audibly, still refusing to make eye contact with Damien.

"If I find out you've told me a lie, I will hunt you down and destroy you. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my king."

"All of you, get the hell out of my house and back to your respective continents." Damien barked as he walked out of the dining room, waving them away like they were annoying flies.

I waited until we were outside the house, far enough away so no one could hear us, before telling Damien the news. "Bast is out of surgery."

"And?" Damien asked, turning to face me, his eyes filled with hopeful curiosity.

"They refuse to tell Bartholomew, or to let him see her, because he is not immediate family." I responded as we got in the car, and headed back towards the hospital.

Once we arrived at the hospital, Sinclair and I followed Damien as he pushed the doctors and nurses to the side, ignoring them as they tried to stop him.

After we arrived at Bast's room, I heard Damien's sharp inhale when his eyes landed on Bast.

Bast lay in the hospital bed, her head and abdomen wrapped in gauze. She lay there motionless, surrounded by machines, beeping and blinking softly. It hurt to see Bast like this, her face drained of all color, her usually cheerful face now completely void of emotion.

Damien slowly walked to her side, running his finger softly down the side of her face, taking her hand in his.

"You can't be in here- Agh!" A nurse said, but let out a scream when Sinclair turned and snarled at her. She scrambled out of the room as quickly as her legs could carry her.

"My king." A man said from the doorway, bowing deeply before he walked to the other side of Bast's bed, looking at her clipboard. "I imagine this is the bride I've heard about?" He asked Damien once he'd finished reading through her chart.

"Yes. How is she?" Damien asked, bracing himself for the news.

"I'm sorry, my king. But the blood loss, coupled with her head injury... Miss Bast has become comatose."

"Will she come out of it?" I asked the doctor.

"That much is unknown. We've done what we could, now it's up to her."

"What are her chances?" Sinclair asked, stepping forward.

"I-" The doctor started to say, then took a few steps backward when he saw the color of Sinclair's eyes. I shook my head at him, telling him not to worry himself about it. "The chance of her recovering fully? About thirty-seven percent, I'm afraid."

"Wake up my love, come back to me." Damien whispered against Bast's temple, before he let out a blood curling scream, falling to his knees at her bedside, begging her to wake up.