19. A Plague for the Wolves
Laura - In the car on their way back to Bucharest
The mountains, the forest, and the river helped me regain my sanity after that dreadful experience. Death is part of life, even if it decides to elude me. I’ve seen it far too many times, coming after people around me, my family, and my friends. Every time, it takes something from me, a tiny bit of myself. Maybe someday, I’ll remain just an empty shell, walking on this earth and seeking something I’ll never get.
Another car comes out of nowhere and crosses our lane. Paul hits the breaks, and I involuntarily lean forward, propping my hand on the glove compartment. A car crash won’t harm me, but I still feel relieved that nothing bad happened for his sake. Why do I think about his safety? Maybe because I want to stop seeing dead bodies. That has to be it.
At first, I glare at him in annoyance. But my cheeks heat up every time I look at him and remember him naked under the waterfall. My face feels hot even though I'm cold as usual.
He isn't looking at me. He didn't say anything in the two days that passed. It irritates me that I can't read his thoughts as I can with humans and strigois. I liked it at first because it allowed me to appreciate the silence. But when he closes up like this, I wish I could see inside his mind.
His phone rings, and he pushes the button on his hands-free to answer.
“I’m on my way home right now.” Pauses and a muscle throbs on his right temple. “Yes, we’ll both be there in about two hours.”
After he closes the call, he says without looking at me, "Ion Corvin and his escort are waiting for us at my house. Let me deal with him, and don’t make me say it twice."
I nod in agreement. Horrible scenarios and possibilities keep me company all the way to Paul's villa. We arrive, and I follow him inside, trying not to see the dangerous stares of his wolves.
In Paul's study room, Ion Corvin is waiting for us. He sits at the desk while his men stand stiffly, clasping their hands in front of them.
They are all strigois, and they aren't in a good mood. Glowing eyes and lips curved in an unappealing grimace. Their appearance conveys an aggressive attitude. This tidbit remains entrenched in my mind, an annoying little morsel giving me a terrible feeling I can't seem to shake.
Paul sits in his chair while I remain standing to his side. The tension is almost palpable in the air.
Ion Corvin starts talking. “The Council is highly displeased with the death of one of our own.”
Before I realize what I’m doing, I find myself talking. "You don't understand. He wasn't thinking straight anymore. He was more like a zombie from the movies than a strigoi. But instead of brains, he only wanted blood."
I'm grateful my voice wavers considerably less than my hands. Clumsily stuffing my palms between my back and the wall behind me, I want to leave this place and avoid dealing with these guys.
A low growl comes from Paul in response to my disobedience. He is supposed to do the talking, and here I am speaking first.
“I had to kill him. I take full responsibility for my deed, and I’ll be at the Council’s behest for whatever they may ask of me.”
Paul’s answer almost throws me off my feet. I frown as a million questions stampede in my mind. What’s he doing? Is he jeopardizing the accord for me?
Ion Corvin shakes his head. "His maker sensed how he died, and a stake through the heart isn't the MO of a wolf during a full moon night. If it were a bite, I would have believed you."
“I’m sorry for trying to deceive you.” Paul sighs heavily. “First and foremost, I’m bound to uphold the rules of the wolves. If I don’t do it, I won’t be able to call myself alpha anymore. According to one of our most sacred rules, I have to protect Laura. You must understand that I won’t give her up.”
“Tell me, Paul, how many wolves have died in the last sixty years of unknown rabies?”
“What does this have to do with the problem at hand?”
"Everything." Ion Corvin leans back, legs crossed, his hands on his upper knee. "I know all about the wolves who went mad, plagued with an unknown disease similar to rabies. I know that you and your father before you had to kill them all to end their misery."
Paul gnashes his teeth but remains silent. I tremble, knowing where Ion Corvin is going with this story.
"All of them bit a certain strigoi right before getting sick. Laura Nedelcu. The Council believes that’s her ability." Ion locks his chilly gaze with Paul’s. "Has she asked you to bite her? You would end up like all the other wolves. She’s a menace, believe me. She's more dangerous than the rogue strigoi she has killed." He leans forward closer to Paul, his elbows on the table. "Laura is a plague for you and your wolves. Hand her to me. We won’t kill her. We’ll keep her somewhere locked away where she can harm no one while paying for her crimes with her sanity."
Ion Corvin continues his rant on why he needs to turn me in, and Paul lifts his head and glances at me. The strigoi's voice fades away as I lose myself in the abyss of Paul's gaze. The entire world shrinks around us until only us two remain, and, in the end, only his eyes. They are spiteful, hurt, betrayed, lonely, and utterly defeated.
His gaze resembles the gloomy clouds that precede the most terrible storm. Even my glamour is rendered ineffective by the sheer force of his stare. For the first time in my life, I feel completely dead on the inside. As my hopes diminish, a tear dangles in my left eye.
As an empty glass left on the table's edge, I wait to be knocked over and shattered, or put away and forgotten. I swallow, realizing I've set myself up for failure. Paul put everything on the line for me, but I've lost the little bit of trust he had in me. Waiting for the strigois to take me away, I shut my eyes in surrender.