The Hollow

Chapter 4: Fallout

November 1st: 12:03am

"Regale, we have a situation," Jonathan whispered in his ear just as Jonah was beginning to think everything was going smoothly, "in The Forest."

"What kind of situation?" he asked as he stood and began following the Vampire.

"A man assaulted a woman." Jonathan told him as they traded the ear-splitting noise of the Main Room for the quiet of the hallway.

"One of ours?" Jonah asked, lighting a cigarette.

"No, Outsider. She's in rough shape though, we can't get a clear story out of her. He um… he cut her," Jonathan said softly.

"What?" Jonah asked, wondering why Jonathan was dancing around instead of telling him straight out what happened.

"I guess they were dancing, ended up in The Forest and things got a bit heated and he used a knife while they were having sex. He said it just slipped. I don't know though, Regale, I don't think she even wanted it," he explained.

Rape. That's why Jonathan was so nervous. Jonah's hand reached inside his jacket to touch his gun. There was only one way to handle this. This wasn't theft or a fight, this was unforgivable and he would not stand for it. The knife slipping was one thing, if that was all it was then it would be let go, but if this man had forced himself on this poor woman he wouldn't see the sunrise and things always got tense when an Outsider gets killed inside their walls. It meant a lot of paperwork and dealing with The Mayor, two things Jonah had hoped he would have a break from after tonight. Jonah took a long drag from his smoke, his lungs burning, reminding him that he was going to regret letting the stress of the night get to him in the morning

Entering The Forest, the chandelier casting tree-like shadows over the place, Jonah felt his stomach knot up at the sight before him. Jonah used to love The Forest, it was a VIP lounge where only select Outsiders were permitted to get away from prying eyes, but ever since last year it has felt haunted. The all white carpet seemed to glow under the blueish tint of the lights, the black leather couches and chairs loomed like shadows scattered about the room. It was usually full during The Festival but had been cleared due to the situation. An Outsider sat in one of the arm chairs surrounded by three of Vlad's men, one of Ogden’s girls crouched beside a kneeling woman, who was sobbing softly into a bloody towel, her red hair covering her face and pooling on the floor. Jonah felt his blood surge as he realized it was the girl he had noticed earlier, a seed of guilt settling into his bones at the thought that if he had just had Salem get her for him she wouldn't be in this position.

"Regale?" Jonathan asked softly, waiting for an order.

"On his knees," Jonah growled out, the three men pushing the Outsider out of the chair and to the ground. The woman's head snapped up and her eyes met his before he turned to the man, "What happened?"

"It was an accident. My hand just slipped," the man explained in a bored tone.

Jonah was watching the woman though, a deep gash across her cheek and another cut on her forehead extending from her eyebrow into her hairline. She was exceptionally pale, the blood smeared across her face making her look like a toddler who had gotten into her mothers make up, but she stared up at Jonah with the saddest eyes he had ever seen. Eyes the color of honey should be warm and bright but hers were dull, as they bore into him. He could see her waiting for him to accept the mans response, could see her heart breaking at the thought. Ogden’s girl rubbed her back as her eyes fell shut and she was overcome by another sob choking its way out of her chest.

"And how did you get into the position for your hand to slip?" Jonah asked the man, calmly, his eyes not leaving the woman.

"Thought your type didn't judge, Pumpkin King," the man snapped at him, unflinching against Jonah's glare.