Page 52 of Hitched to the Vampire King
Mark’s nose wrinkled, and he scoffed.
I held up a hand. “Hear me out.”
I continued my story then, telling the other slayers about how Gabriel saved my life from a group of vampires who wanted me dead. How I’d soon realized there was this connection between us—leaving out, of course, that I was a werewolf. I delved into our complete history. How I’d immediately had doubts the instant I’d learned about the contract for him. How after a little digging, we discovered the truth about the Academy’s corruption. I told them about the other slayers who’d reached out to me with the same doubts.
And then came the hard part.
I told them about our meeting with the council. How they’d handed me and Gabriel over to our enemies, then killed Chris, a slayer, just to silence him.
I watched their faces as I spoke, searching for any sign of empathy or any hint that my words were resonating with them. It was a lot to take in. And it didn’t help that I was challenging their entire foundation of the world they knew. Everything they thought to be true was a lie, and I was trying to open their eyes up to that.
“Chris was one of my best friends,” I said, my voice cracking. “He’d dedicated himself to the Academy, and they just killed him, without any hesitation, all because he knew the truth. Ask yourself, if they were innocent, why on earth would they do that? Why would they murder one of their best to keep word from spreading? Why would they hand me over to an enemy who planned to kill me?”
Gavin leaned forward in his seat, his elbows braced against his knees and his head cupped in his hands.
“If I was really a traitor like they claim, why wouldn’t I have just killed you on sight?” I asked, hoping that question would be enough to get them thinking. “You came here to murder my lover. But I didn’t kill you, did I? So maybeI’mnot the traitor here.”
Justine and Daisy looked pale, their faces utterly distraught as they listened to me. It wasn’t Gabriel’s story that moved them. It was Chris’s. I’d seen it in their expressions the second I told them the council had killed him.
“I…don’t believe you,” Mark said, but his voice wavered, and he seemed unsure if he believed himself right now.
“I understand that,” I replied. “It’s a lot. All I’m asking is for you to look a little deeper. If there’s even a chance that I’m telling the truth, wouldn’t you want to know? Wouldn’t you want to know if you’re being used? The Academy turned you into murderers. You have a right to know that.”
Gavin’s gaze met mine, and for a moment, I caught a flicker of something more than just hostility. It wasn’t understanding or belief, but perhaps a hint of doubt. This gave me hope, even though I knew the battle was far from won. Like me, these people’s identities were completely wrapped up in the Academy. Convincing them to even entertain the notion that everything they believed in was a lie required more than my word against the Academy’s.
“Doubt is healthy,” I continued, seizing their momentary confusion. “It means you’re thinking, questioning. That’s all I’m asking you to do. Question. Especially before you take another life.”
“What exactly do you want us to do, then?” Gavin asked, speaking for the first time. “If what you say is true, digging for more information could be dangerous for us. We could end up dead like your friend.”
I took a deep breath and nodded, trying not to let his casual words affect me. “That’s a possibility. The Academy has shown it’ll defend itself, violently so. All I’m asking is for you to look into this for yourself. You don’t need to face the council like we did. Leave that to us. They won’t quit until I’m dead anyway, so I’ll eventually have to bring the fight to them. But you can at least do the research for yourself. Investigate. You know how. Find the answers. Then decide for yourself what you want to do about it. Are you the sort who could continue killing innocents? Because I’m not. That’s not who I am. I chose the difficult path, because it’s the right one.”
The room fell into a thoughtful silence, each of them lost to their considerations. I’d given them a great deal to think about, and pushing any harder could backfire on me. They needed time and space now to process everything I’d shared.
“As I said, you’re free to go. And I hope,” I paused, making eye contact with each of them in turn. “I hope you choose to look for the truth. Not for me. But for yourselves. You deserve to know what you’re being used for. And you deserve to make these choices for yourself.”
Gavin slowly stood, his gaze jumping between me, Lucy, Sam, and Avery. After a moment’s hesitation, he signaled to the others that it was time to leave. They didn’t speak as they gathered their weapons, but as soon as they headed toward the door, Gavin paused and turned back to me.
“We’ll consider what you’ve said,” he admitted. “But if I found out you’ve lied about anything, I’ll be back to collect Gabriel’s contract.”
Annoyance and anger flared within me, but I tamped it back before I could lash out at him. Threatening him wouldn’t help matters. I knew I’d told them the truth. Now I just needed them to confirm it for themselves.
When I didn’t respond, Gavin and his friends left, leaving the house in silence. I turned to face Lucy and released a long breath.
“What do you think will happen next?” Lucy asked.
I shrugged. We truly had no way of knowing. For all I knew, Gavin and his friends were planning another sneak attack right at this moment. Regardless of what they decided, Gabriel’s life was at risk, seeing as how our location had been compromised.
“We’ll need to prepare ourselves,” I said. “And we can’t stay here. I’m guessing they learned our location when Josh and Jaden started reaching out to contacts for information. They likely tracked our phones or something. So, we need to move, just in case. It wouldn’t be smart to remain here after being discovered.”
“Just one more thing to add to our ever-growing list of tasks,” Sam commented.
“We have other safehouses we can use,” Avery suggested. “I doubt Aimee will mind.”
I relaxed and nodded. “Let’s get moving then. Because we have a hell of a day ahead of us.”
ChapterEighteen
Nestled on a quiet,tree-lined street in the Garden District, we found our new temporary haven. The safehouse, hidden in plain sight among rows of grand old homes, was draped in Spanish moss and surrounded by wrought-iron fences. Its façade, a blend of Victorian architecture and the charm very characteristic of this area, hid the sanctuary it now provided us.
