The Aftermath ✔

4 NODES

Slade's sentence under the sun required two days despite the one in its title. It started from noon. There was a cruelty to it—burning a vampire who couldn't die from midday till sundown, then leaving them tied down all night to ensure they'd heal somewhat, only to burn them again in the morning.

There would be no relief because even after her release at noon the next day; she'd have to endure the sun, or the presence of it, until nightfall.

Eli watched, silent and helpless. Trixie, at least, could find refuge in Eli's apartment with Manny.

But Eli, the dimwitted werewolf who was already walking on thin ice in his pack, waited in the square all day.

There was a big crowd in the beginning when Slade was first strapped down. Dried flesh still stained the cuffs—they could have at least cleaned those from the previous vampire.

Most people stayed for the start of the process. By the time most of Slade's flesh turned red and faded in the wind, people started to leave. There was no fun in watching something slowly die, again and again, without it perishing.

Eli was the last one at sundown. Boredom. He told himself people hadn't left because Slade refused to whine or cry and that her stoic expression and motionless response wasn't boring for them. He told himself that, but he was wrong.

The moonlight helped repair some of the damage, but it was hard to stomach. Eli stood more than once with the intent of unchaining her.

Each time, he sat down again and made excuses as to why that was a bad idea.

None of them mattered now. At midnight, he made up his mind.

"Not a good idea," Lomos said from a nearby pillar. Wherever he came from, he still wore his Wolf Brigade kilt and gun harness. "Turn fugitive and this gets messy. Endure the pain and hold your head high."

Eli felt less anger and more hurt.

Lomos scoffed, "You don't even retaliate verbally, huh? I keep forgetting that you were and will always be just her pet—her dog."

After casting him a glance, Eli turned his attention back to Slade. Everyone always had an opinion of them, none good.

"I'm a wolf. Just like you," Eli countered. The words made him feel sick. He needed no defense.

"Yeah, but a wolf, like a dog, can be broken. And that's what you are. Broken. A perfectly domesticated mutt. You go where your father says—"

"Call me that again, and you won't need to doubt me anymore." Eli's heart raced. He was posturing but he couldn't figure out why. Rarely could he muster up enough fucks to give about what his pack or extended pack thought of him. As it stood, with Lomos's skill and ranking, Eli's six-foot two frame was just a yapping infant in the presence of a five-foot six wildebeest. He wouldn't stand a chance. Still, he wasn't backing down, especially now.

Lomos was fair in most things, and he allowed Eli his big talk by breaking eye contact to instead focus on Slade.

"It's hard to watch it," Lomos admitted. "I claim her as my Sovereign, too."

"And you arrested her."

"Well, what was I going to do?"

Admittedly, there wasn't much anyone could have done. And Lomos himself had done far more for her than any other Brigade leader would. But it still seemed wrong.

"It's your fault," Lomos said, gravel in his voice. "Your fault Dresden's sovereign got hurt. It's your fault."

Those meager words stole Eli's power of speech. He could only stare at the man, awestruck.