Antithesis: The Vampire Alliance Book Three - FIRST DRAFT COMPLETED

Antithesis Chapter 38: Eve Blakethorn-Sullivan September 2013

Eve Blakethorn-Sullivan, September 2013

No one tries to stop me from entering the arena this time, no one tries to bar my way into tonight’s event. Every one of Charleston’s victims is entitled to see this, to celebrate tonight. I’m not the only one seeking a bit of closure after all these years.
Rob, Tul and I join the milling crowds and I shove a route through the throng of others who’ve come to spectate, moving around people buying drinks and laughing together in the central foyer while others climb the stairs to find their way to galleries or boxes.  We head for the main arena on its lowest level, weaving our way to the standing area just as I had done years earlier.

I might have handed Charleston over of my own volition but I cannot be content to find a seat, to be so close to the performance and yet so far away in the sloping tiers. I still need to be close to the stage; I need to see him up close. A desire to watch each flicker of emotion, to hear any sound he makes clearly, drives me on through the horde of expectant spectators until I find myself pressed up against the barrier right in front of the stage. I choose not to dwell on the realisation that I’m stood in exactly the same place I had stood at Rob’s execution.

Maybe Charleston will see me, maybe he will recognise my face among the sea of features which are going to stare, furious, up at him from the moment he steps on stage. Perhaps some emotion will light in his eyes if his gaze finds mine and perhaps I’ll see him realise that he’s finished.

“You’re sure you want to be here?” Tul asks gently, concerned that it’ll be hard for me to do this again even though this time it’s an enemy who’s about to die. He runs a palm over the hair which is slowly growing back as he watches me. “We don’t have to see this.”

I feel the muscle in my jaw twitch as I grind my teeth together and tighten my grasp around the railing in front of me, knuckles turning white with the pressure.  I cannot, will not be dissuaded from being present for this. I need to find some closure which I can only locate by standing here. “You know we need to be here, at least to begin with.”

His empathetic eyes meet mine again as he nods his head; he acknowledges that I require this just as he does, just as Rob does.  He doesn’t look away from me though, not until the overseer Johan had appointed steps on stage and commands the seething, undulating masses to silence.

My breath catches as the audience stills, as the waves of anticipation flowing through the multitude like an infection turning me to stone except for my wildly fluttering heart. Funny, my body, my emotions are so similar this time as they had been all those years ago. But I’d been angry back then too. I’d wanted revenge then; I just hadn’t known who to direct my anger towards.

The overseer surveys the crowd as he clears his throat and raises the microphone to say the words I’ve been desperate to hear. “We are gathered here to witness the execution of Hardy Charleston, hereby known as ‘the Offender’. The Offender, having been charged with numerous crimes including the oppression of our people, various murders, war crimes and breaches of our laws is to be put to death.

Among the Offenders crimes is a breach of the Concealment Act of seventeen ninety. While the act is now obsolete this is due to the Offenders actions. With this in mind it has been decided that the Offender should be charged under the act and having been found guilty of a breach he will be executed by means of decapitation. The judge at the trial of the Offender has deemed his crimes too numerous to be individually punished, therefore we have no lesser sentences to implement and will move directly to the execution.

We must inform all witnesses that the jury employed to judge at the tribunal of the Offender, carried out on the twelfth of this month, was unanimous in its decision. Guilt was undisputed and as such no period of objection is required prior to implementation of the sentences.”

“Do you mind?” Rob asks me. “That he’s not being punished for anything else?”

“No,” I admit with a shrug. “I just want him gone. You?”

“I just want him gone,” he agrees.

The overseer signals towards Alex and Craig who are hidden behind the scenes and they step forward, dragging the emaciated form of a once proud man along with them. Hardy’s feet shuffle, his weakened legs unable to support his weight, as he’s forced across the stage to a fate he’s subjected so many others to in the past.

I take in the shaggy, greasily unkempt tangle of my oppressor’s salt and pepper hair. Dirt smears his face, turning white pale skin to streaky grey-brown. His eyes are sunken, recessed in the gaunt and bruised hollows of his face. I know he hasn’t so much as smelled blood since I drained him. While Johan kept him weak for our protection I honestly don’t have it in me to regret that it will have hurt him to go hungry.

I know he deserves this and every cell and part of me calls for bloody retribution. I may want to avoid torturing him. I may want to prove myself more than Charleston is, but I have still suffered and I want him to pay.

Alex slips a wooden block in front of the convict as he is forced to his knees on the stage. Hardy’s hands are secured by heavy chains to silver plated hoops that have been installed in the floor either side of the block.  Anticipation builds as the Executioner steps forward, brandishing the sword that would be his only tool tonight.

“Wait!” The one word rings out to reverberate around the silent auditorium but Charleston’s pleas won’t help him now, nothing will help him now. “Where is she?” He yells, “Where is that bitch?”

When I laugh the executioner’s arm pauses half raised, sword held tightly in his waiting hand as a flash of curiosity passes over his features.

“Do you have some final words, Charleston?” I demand, drawing his attention to me. He glares as he finally locates me in the crowd. “Do you have some final insult you wish to hurl at me?”

“Whore!” He hisses furiously, his eyes silvered and his fangs bared. As if he can frighten me now, as if he can hurt me now.

“You know what?” I ask him slowly, amused at his feeble attempt at injuring me. “I’ve just had an epiphany.” The realisation is not one even I could have predicted and I’m sure what I am about to say will shock Rob and Tul as much as it surprises me. “I don’t need to see you die. You’ve held the vampire nation captive for decades but not any longer. You don’t matter to me, Hardy Charleston. I don’t need to see you executed, I don’t need to celebrate it or even remember it. To me you can just fade away, vanish like a bad dream. You don’t hold any sway over me anymore, not by your life or by your death.”

With that I step back, away from the railing. “I’ll see you outside,” I tell Rob and Tul, spinning on my heel. The crowd parts, letting me glide back through the sea of people and out of the arena. Tul follows immediately while Rob pauses in the briefest moment of indecision before he too passes back through the congregation.

Hardy screams profanity after us, trying to regain our attention but he has no power now. His body will die tonight but his reign, his control, that has already failed.

“I thought you wanted closure?” Tul asks as he steps out into the cool night are.

“I have it,” I reply, “truthfully I had it the moment Alex and Craig dragged him onto the stage. He’s nothing now and that’s all I needed to know. Others might need to see him die but I don’t. You could have stayed.”

Rob kisses me lightly, “No, we couldn’t. I think our exit was a far greater punishment for him than dying in front of us would have been.”

Even from our place outside the arena we can hear the cheer rising from inside the auditorium.  At the same time the link that had bound me to my tormentor winks out of existence.

“I guess he’s dead,” Tul comments.

“I guess so,” Rob agrees before looking back at me. “So what do you want to do with this brave new world you’ve created?”

“You know what I want to do,” I remind him as we walk back to our car. “I want to convert Norham House and have a baby and live a peaceful life for the rest of eternity.”

Chuckling Tul leans over, kissing my cheeks. “That sounds like a plan, although I would like one addition to it.”

“Oh?” I ask, already suspicious as he and Rob share a look which tells me whatever is coming had been planned before tonight.

Both of them drop to one knee as Tul pulls a tiny box from his pocket. “Eve Blakethorn-Sullivan,” Rob begins. “Will you do us the honour of becoming our wife, again.” Tul finishes.

I stare at them in open incredulity and while I have to admit the ruby solitaire ring Tul’s revealed is truly stunning I do also wonder if they are both out of their minds. Maybe they haven’t recovered from the shock of the pregnancy yet.

“We’ve already done this and I don’t have a good history with marriages, as you’re both well aware.”

Rob pulls the ring from the box, slipping it onto my ring finger even though my answer is far from a yes. “The thing is that we’ve all died since saying our vows so it’s not really clear whether they still stand or not. That ‘til death us do part’ line is a worry. Plus we’ve only ever made vows as couples, we aren’t a couple.”

“Are you asking me if I consent to you marrying Tul?” I ask, amused by the notion. “Because I approve of this deal; you two get married and I get jewellery, I can work with this.”

“We aren’t asking if the two of us can get married, Eve,” Tul presses, taking my hand as he looks up at me with a disarmingly earnest expression. “We want all three of us to be married; we want our ties to each other recognised. Under vampire law that’s possible. I’ll not lie, it’s certainly unusual, we’ll raise eyebrows. But it’s still possible.” He pauses, assessing my anxiety, “You know what they say, third time lucky and all that. We’re safe now, this time it’ll be different.”

“I have a condition,” I state and they both nod expectantly, hopefully. “You both had your church weddings. I did the traditional white dress and flowers thing the first time, because it was what you wanted,” I tell Rob. “Despite being hugely against a second church wedding I had one for you, Tul, and I don’t want to do that a third time. If we have another wedding I want it done my way and I do not want a church. I don’t want a blessing. I don’t want anything that resembles our previous attempts.”

They glance at each other, my two traditional boys who still retain some of the values obtained through their early nineteen hundreds upbringing. They nod though, conceding this time where they had both refused previously. “Alright,” Rob acquiesces, “we can hold the wedding wherever you want. Vampires licence the officiate anyway, not the venue, so we could have our wedding absolutely anywhere you want.”

“So do we have a yes?” Tul asks, genuinely nervous.

Allowing myself to break into a grin I nod. “Yes, yes I’ll marry you both, again.” And God help anyone who tries to destroy it this time, I silently add to myself.