Chapter 83 Second Examination
COUNT ALTERONI
I sit in my office for three hours after Mordaunt hangs up. Thinking. Planning. Trying to find option that doesn't end in death.
There isn't one.
Valentina's captured. Being used as bait. When Callum comes, Mordaunt kills him. The resistance dies.
If I warn Callum, Mordaunt executes me for treason.
If I stay silent, Valentina and Callum both die.
No good options.
Only varying degrees of loss.
I pour myself a drink. Four hundred years of existence. Four hundred years of careful survival. All of it coming down to single choice.
Help wolves I've never met and die.
Or preserve myself and watch them die.
The choice should be easy.
Should be.
But I remember Valentina's voice on the phone. Young, desperate, trying to save her community. I remember Callum's file. Innocent man framed by brother, building resistance from nothing. I remember the medical records showing Isla saving lives.
These aren't abstract threats to Parliamentary order.
They're people. Trying to survive. Trying to help each other.
And I'm deciding whether they're worth my life.
I pull out my phone. Stare at the screen.
I could call Callum directly. Warn him about the trap. Tell him Valentina's bait, rescue is suicide.
But my phone's monitored. Parliamentary oversight tracks all council members. Call would be recorded. Evidence of treason.
Need different approach.
I text my assistant. Human, loyal, discreet.
Need you to deliver message. In person. Urgent.
He responds immediately. Where to?
The Rookeries. Ask for Callum Brennan. Hand-deliver only.
Understood. What's the message?
I write it carefully. Can't be too explicit. Can't incriminate myself. But needs to be clear enough to warn Callum.
"Mordaunt has the dhampir. It's a trap. Come anyway, you lose. Don't come, she dies. No good options. From a friend in Parliament."
Simple. Direct. Deniable if questioned.
I send it to my assistant with address.
Then I wait.
Two hours later, my assistant texts back. Message delivered. Brennan read it. Asked who sent it. I said anonymous friend. He understood.
Good. Warning sent. Callum knows it's trap.
Whether he comes anyway is his choice.
My phone rings. Mordaunt.
Of course.
"Count Alteroni," he says pleasantly. "I'm curious. Have you made any phone calls tonight? Sent any messages?"
"I talk to many people." Keep voice neutral.
"Of course. But specifically about our hypothetical prisoner? Any warnings sent to interested parties?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Hmm. I'll be more direct. If Brennan receives warning about trap for the dhampir, I'll know it came from you. There are only three people who know about this operation. Me, my hunters, and you."
My blood goes cold. "You told me about the trap. That's not my fault."
"I told you to test your loyalty. See if you'd stay silent or commit treason." His voice hardens. "If Brennan shows up knowing it's trap, if he's prepared for overwhelming force, I'll know you warned him. And I'll have you executed."
"You can't prove anything."
"I don't need proof. I need excuse." He pauses. "One more act of treason, Count. That's all I need to bring charges. Helping the resistance dies tonight. Along with you."
He hangs up.
I sit in silence.
The warning's already sent. Can't take it back.
Mordaunt knows. Or suspects. Either way, I'm marked.
Four hundred years of survival. Ending because I couldn't watch innocent people die.
My phone buzzes. Text from unknown number.
Thank you for the warning. I know the cost. If I survive, I'll remember. - CB
Callum Brennan. Acknowledging the message. Thanking me.
Confirming Mordaunt's suspicions.
I delete the text. Too late. If Mordaunt's monitoring my phone, he saw it.
Evidence of contact with resistance leader.
Evidence of treason.
I pour another drink.
Might as well enjoy the time I have left.
Tomorrow Mordaunt brings charges. Parliament votes. I'm executed.
But at least Callum knows it's a trap.
At least I tried.
That has to count for something.
My door opens. No knock. Bad sign.
Three vampires enter. Parliamentary guards. Here for me.
"Count Alteroni," the lead guard says formally. "You're under arrest for treason against Crimson Parliament. Charges include funding enemy resistance, providing intelligence to criminal organization, and conspiring against Parliamentary authority."
"On whose authority?" I ask.
"Lord Mordaunt's. He's presenting evidence to emergency session tomorrow." The guard approaches. "You'll be held in custody until trial."
They take me without fight. What's the point? Mordaunt has evidence. Probably manufactured some, embellished the rest. Trial's formality.
I'm already dead.
In the cell beneath Old Bailey, I have nothing but time to think.
I warned Callum. Gave him chance to prepare or avoid trap entirely.
Valentina might live. Callum might survive. Resistance might continue.
Or they all die and my warning meant nothing.
Either way, I'm executed.
Four hundred years of existence. Ending because I chose conscience over survival.
Strange way to die.
But not the worst way.
At least I tried.
At least I chose right over safe.
At least, at the very end, I mattered.