House of Judges (House of Royals Book 4) (8 page)

Every single emotion runs out of me, channeled into numb sexuality. My brain shuts the people behind the mirror out, just focusing on me as I spill myself out into the curtained room.

The flashing lights dance over my exposed flesh. Blinking and racing around the room. I shut my eyes, just moving in rhythm to the music.

The song ends and another begins. I move. I don’t think.

I bleed.

Three songs. Four. Seven.

On the eighth, the music slows, and I’m so engrossed in this dance of letting it all out that I hardly notice when the music has stopped.

I stand in the middle of the room, between the pole and the mirror. Slowly, as I let my breath out, I raise my head back up. My hair parts around my face. And I open my eyes.

A light behind the mirror has been turned on, and suddenly, I can see through it.

King Cyrus stands right before me, a demented smile upon his face as he claps. Slowly. Deliberate.

And my heart drops into my knees when I see, seated on either side of him, is Ian and Raheem.

“Now that was a show,” Cyrus breathes. The look in his eyes is gleeful. Wild. Vengeful. “I think we can all agree that was a wonderfully artistic display of the whore you are on the inside.”

Ian lurches to his feet, his fists ready, but Raheem catches him before Ian can do any damage and throws him back into his seat. “Don’t,” Raheem warns Ian.

Cyrus chuckles, glancing back at them. “I thoroughly enjoyed the show, Alivia,” he says. “But I don’t think either of them appreciated it in the same way.”

Something buzzes, and suddenly the mirror dividing us rises, and the rooms become one.

I back away a step.

I can’t.

What I just did…

Everything I just laid out for the two men who matter to me most to see…

Something bites at the back of my eyes. Moisture pools in them instantly.

“Liv,” Ian says as he rushes forward. He reaches out for me. But I take a quick step away. The look on his face is pained, but understanding. “Liv, I know that wasn’t you. I know he made you do it.”

I shake my head, one tear breaking free. I look over his shoulder at Raheem. And I see it there, in his eyes. He knows what’s going through my head.

In so many ways, that
was
me.

I swallow hard, squeezing my eyes closed for a moment.

I don’t want to be me anymore. I don’t want to do any of this anymore.

“Come now,” Cyrus says. I hear him take a step forward and open my eyes once again. “Don’t try to act ashamed of your actions, Alivia. We all know how much you enjoy the attention. You certainly reacted to the way you and I danced, to my lips between your breasts. To Raheem pinning you against the bookshelf in your library. To Ian pressing himself into you on your kitchen counter.”

The smile on his lips grows even more sick as the horror in me builds to an explosive level. “So why are you suddenly feeling so modest and prudish?”

“Stop!” I scream. The tears now freely flow down my face. “Please, just stop! I’m sorry, okay! I’m sorry I made you think I was Sevan. I’m sorry I needed you, Raheem. I’m sorry I fell in love with you when I shouldn’t have, Ian! I’m just sorry!”

A sob takes me over, and I sink into a little ball in the corner of the room. My knees curl up to my chest, and I wrap my arms around my head, attempting to block it all out as I sob, great big pulls of air and tears freefalling down my face.

“Enough!” Ian bellows as he crosses the space to stand by me. He crouches at my side, though he does not immediately touch me. “You may be our damn King, but do you have to be a monster? You’ve put her through enough!”

“My King,” Raheem chimes in, “I understand how disappointed you are, but I do feel you’ve gotten your revenge. Can you not see the woman is humiliated?”

My entire body shakes. I didn’t know that was still possible for my body. Which echoes the true measure of my pain. Cyrus does not say a word for a long minute. I hear the breath flow in and out of his chest heavily. Angry. Vengeful. Conflicted.

“Take her back to her room,” he finally says. I hear his feet begin to retreat. “Her trial will resume at midnight.”

His footsteps grow quieter and within moments, the King who has put me through so much emotional pain is gone.

“Liv,” Ian breathes as he reaches out. “I-”

“Please don’t touch me,” I sob out. I flinch away from his warm hand, cowering all the closer into the corner.

“Liv,” he whispers, but he does take two steps back.

“Would you like me to-” Raheem begins to say.

“Please, will you both just…go,” I breathe out. I wind my arms tighter around myself, squeezing my eyes tightly closed.

They’re quiet. And I concentrate on calming my racing heart. On blocking the last two days out.

Raheem and Ian quietly talk to one another, but I don’t process their words. And then, it’s quiet.

For a while.

It’s so peaceful. So empty.

But eventually, I hear footsteps come back into the room. A set of arms slide under my knees and around my back. My eyes flash open in panic for a moment as I’m picked up, my lips parting to demand solitude once more. But instead of Raheem or Ian, I find it’s Markov who’s come to me in what is surely my lowest hour.

“You’re safe for now, my queen,” he says in that low, calm voice of his. “You can rest your eyes now.”

And I do. My eyes slide back closed as I rest my head against his shoulder, cradled into his chest like I am a child. As soon as he begins walking, the tears fall once more.

“I DON’T THINK SHE WANTS to see either of you right now,” I hear Christian say in the bedroom. Markov glances at me once again before he walks out of the bathroom, where he’s escorted me, closing the door behind him to give me privacy. “Just give her some space. She’ll be okay. She always is.”

Take these wretched clothes off. Toss them in the trash. Turn on the hot water. Step inside. Wash my hair. Scrub my body and face twice. Three times.

My skin is raw with the heat of the water and the intensity of my washing, but still I feel dirty.

I’m not sure I’ll ever feel completely clean again.

Finally giving up, I shut the water off.

Awaiting me on the counter in the bathroom is a set of fresh clothes. A simple black dress, fresh underthings. I pull them on and open the door to the bedroom.

Markov and Christian stand talking to someone who quickly turns around. Trinity.

“I’m so sorry, Alivia,” she says, taking a step away from me. “I had no idea what they were planning to do with you. If I had known what they did, I…”

“There was nothing you could have done,” I say through a raw throat. I do however have a hard time meeting her eyes. “The King had a plan and no one could have stopped it.”

“Still,” she says. Her expression is crestfallen. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t volunteer to be our leader’s prison escort unless you plan on actually taking care of said leader,” Christian says angrily.

“Don’t,” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t handle any more contention. No more fighting. Not over me.”

The fire in Christian’s eyes instantly dies out, replaced with pity. Which I don’t want, either.

“I’m really not that big of a deal,” I say, attempting to lighten the mood. Because that’s what I need at the moment. “Everyone should stop acting like I am one.”

This does bring an immediate chuckle from Christian. And a hint of a smile pulls at Trinity’s lips. Markov doesn’t smile, but there is a hit of a twinkle in his eye.

“Okay,” I say, composing myself. Crying time over. It just has to be. “How long until the trial resumes?”

“It should be any moment now,” Markov says. “I do believe they will send a messenger for us when the time has arrived.”

“And you still won’t tell me what evidence you’ve gathered in my defense?” I ask hopefully.

“Sorry, Livy,” Christian says. “Not allowed to speak a word.”

I nod my head, just as a knock sounds on the door.

“It’s time,” Christian says as he opens the door, revealing a guard.

I nod once, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this, then.”

One by one, we file out the door, and down the hall, following the guard. I’m nervous, but only because for a moment, I’m terrified they will drag me back down into the belly of the castle to the Club again. Even the prison would be preferable. But this walk is familiar. I recognize the hallways and the rooms. And finally, we break into the room where I defended myself only two days ago.

It’s set up differently. There’s a raised platform at the head of the room, set with five grand chairs. Cyrus is seated in the center, Dorian and Malachi to his sides, Lillian and Elle seated, as well.

Before the platform sits a podium and on either side of it, a chair. And laying before all of that, is row after row of chairs.

And they’re each filled with bodies.

A few hundred eyes shift to me as we step into the room. I feel their stares, their judgments, as I walk forward, flanked by a small fraction of my House members. I hold my chin high, my eyes staring straight forward.

The guard leads me to the chair to the right of the podium, in front of everyone, and my House has to take a seat.

A woman from the front row stands. Seated beside her, I see Ian and Raheem. They both look at me with worried expressions.

I look away quickly, because the humiliation rises back up in my throat.

The woman wears a classic suit dress, hugging her thin frame. Her honey blonde hair is done up in a twist at the back of her head. Her narrow face is hidden behind thick, horn-rimmed glasses. And the second she moves, I can smell how very human she is.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she says as she reaches the podium to my side. “My name is Alexa Vander Watson, and I have been asked to serve as facilitator at this trial. I am to be an unmotivated third party.”

It’s quite obvious, from the way she speaks. From her lack of fear or awe. She’s a human, and all of us are vampires, and she has no idea.

“I’ve been told few details related to this case, so I remain un-swayed as to if the accused is innocent or not. While I will not make the final judgment, my job is to help the judges decide on the fate of this woman.”

She clears her throat and looks out over the hundreds of vampires here. And suddenly, I remember what I was told as Trinity and I were brought into
Roter Himmel
. Less than five hundred vampires live in this little town. I would guess there are over two hundred of them here.

Almost half of the vampire population of
Roter Himmel
has come to witness my fate.

“It was on purpose that I did not attend the deposition of Lady Alivia Ryan Conrath,” Alexa continues. “First, I will hear what the witnesses have to say. Review the evidence. And then, I will listen to the recording. A decision will be made exactly one week from today.”

Seven days. After being here in
Roter Himmel
for thirty-seven of them, seven just doesn’t seem enough to decide if I’m innocent or not.

But one way or another, all of this will be over in seven days.

“Those who wish to stand as witness in defense of Alivia, please rise,” Alexa says, looking out over the crowd through her glasses.

The entire front row to my right stands. Christian, Markov, Trinity, Ian, and Raheem all rise to their feet. Five witnesses doesn’t feel like near enough.

A moment later, Serge rises to his feet. A member of the King’s court that spent over a month in my home. Tentatively, my heart swells. Perhaps I do stand a chance.

“Those who-”

“Sorry we’re late,” a voice suddenly interrupts Alexa from the back of the room. I look up to see Cameron looking around awkwardly, with slight awe on his face, Samuel in tow. Samuel looks rather uncomfortable under everyone’s very annoyed gazes. “We’ll, uh, just take a seat. Sorry for interrupting.”

Everyone continues to stare as the two of them make their way over to the other House members.

And I smile. Because now all of my original members, minus Nial and Anna, are here.

Even if Samuel is still looking at me like he isn’t sure if I did this or not. Even if there’s a little something different in the way Cameron smiles at me.

They’re here. And that matters.

“As I was saying,” Alexa continues, clearly annoyed. “Those who wish to stand in prosecution against Alivia, please rise.”

Cyrus rises, his cold eyes fixed on me. Judith stands, Sebastian’s poor mother. Morticia, Godrick. And to my horror, Charles Allaway, who I did not notice until now, rises with them.

Almost his entire House was slaughtered after leaving a party at my house.

He lost his twin sister that night.

I can’t say I blame him for thinking I orchestrated their demise.

“Thank you,” Alexa says, nodding her head to them. “The charges against Alivia Ryan Conrath are these: the creation of dozens of Bitten. Treason against the crown. And the attempted murder of King Cyrus.”

For not knowing anything about our world, she says all of this without hesitation or question. She is a professional to the end.

“First to the stand, we call Ian Ward,” she says, looking up in Ian’s direction.

He rises from his seat and makes his way to the stand. His long hair has been brushed back, his beard untangled and smoothed. He wears a clean pair of jeans and an old t-shirt. He doesn’t look ready to stand as a witness; he wears no suit, he’s dressed casually. But Ian in a suit is certainly a rare sight.

“Present your case to the masses and judges,” Alexa says, fixing her cold eyes on Ian.

He runs his palms against his pants, looking nervously out over the crowd. “Um, I guess I’ll start with Alivia’s father. You all know of Henry Conrath, I assume. You knew his self-imposed isolation from the monarchy. I only met him a few times. And yeah, he didn’t want anything to do with the system, but Henry was a good man.

“I think by now, most of you know my past: I used to hunt our kind, before I knew…knew what I was.” He hesitates, his eyes on the ground. And I know the pain he’s reliving. Discovering the truth about his mother’s infidelity, her affair with some Born Ian will never know the name of.

“But for someone like me to respect someone like Henry, that says something about his character,” Ian continues. He looks up at the crowd. “Henry had a dark past, it was known that he killed over thirty people the night his brother was betrayed and attacked by the people of Silent Bend. But he just wanted to stay to himself. I don’t believe he ever wanted to bring down the monarchy. He just wanted to be left alone.”

“And what about Alivia?” Alexa digs into the real issue at hand.

Ian’s eyes slide over to me, and my heart does a little staggered backflip, as if it can’t quite make it all the way over.

“So, what I’m saying is that even if Alivia had ever known her dad, it’s not like he would have brainwashed her into wanting to take down the King or the system.” His eyes dart away, back to those who listen. “When she came to town, she didn’t know anything. Not even that she shouldn’t go out after dark. Alivia was attacked by a Bitten just after she arrived. But I’d killed two other Bitten days before she even came to Mississippi.”

“So, what is your assessment of Alivia’s guilt, Mr. Ward?” Alexa asks. She stares at him through those glasses, the most intimidating woman I think I’ve ever seen.

“She’s not guilty,” he says without hesitance or backing down from her cold gaze.

“Thank you, Mr. Ward,” Alexa says dismissively.

“Wait, that’s all you want?” he asks, the pitch of his voice rising. “Alivia and I have nine months of history, and you only want two weeks of it?”

“Mr. Ward,” Alexa says, leaning against the podium and angling her body toward him. “I have been informed of the relationship you and the accused have. While you may have been witness to a large amount of the timeframe, your opinions are biased.”

“Are you kiddi—”

Ian is cut short when a guard grabs him and shoves him back toward his seat.

“Don’t,” I say quietly, meeting his eyes and shaking my head.

How many times have we done this? Him wanting to fight until he gets himself killed, and me talking him down, warning him not to get himself executed?

His glowing eyes stare back at me, the breath ripping in and out of his nose with speed. But he remains in his seat.

“You see why now, Mr. Ward,” Alexa says, somewhat smugly. “Next to the stand, we call Charles Allaway.”

My heart jumps into my throat. Charles rises from his seat, his cold eyes boring into mine as he walks past me to the podium.

“Please share with us your opinion,” Alexa encourages.

“My sister and I came with half our House members to a party at the House of Conrath,” he says, never once looking away from me. “It was an introduction, showing Lady Conrath off to our society. She seemed nice enough. Some events of the evening were unexpected,” he says. Unexpected indeed. Cyrus made us each trade five house members, and then fooled some of the others into thinking they could become members at Court, only to slaughter them for their betrayal of me. “But not from her.”

His nostrils flare as his eyes burn into me. “Until we stepped foot outside. Until we made our way down the property, into town. Where we were attacked by her army. There were at least fifty of them, and only myself and three others escaped. The House of Allaway will take years to rebuild!”

He pounds his fist on the podium and the wood cracks.

“Alivia Conrath is a true Conrath, who hates the monarchy and everything our system stands for!” he yells, his franticness rising. “She planned this! She intentionally weakened my House!”