Allure Of The Night

Eve, who had taken a break from teaching Allie, stepped into the balcony of the piano room in time she noticed Rosetta hastily leaving the Moriarty mansion. The young vampiress didn’t get into her carriage but walked past it. Crossing the mansion’s gates, Rosetta walked on the streets, wiping her cheeks with both her hands.

Wondering what had happened to her friend, Eve turned and saw Allie busily writing in her book. She said to the little girl, “Give me a moment, Allie. I will be back in five minutes.”

Allie nodded, and Eve offered the small girl a smile before stepping out of the room. When she reached the ground floor and neared the hallways, she met Alfie holding a tray in his hand and asked him, “Did Rosetta come to visit here?”

The butler bowed and replied, “Lady Rosetta did arrive here a while ago, but she left in haste.”

That was strange, Eve thought to herself. It was very un-Rosetta-like to come here and to leave without meeting her. She hoped everything was okay with Rosetta.

Away from the Moriarty mansion, Rosetta Hooke after walking and crossing the streets, she finally reached her deceased aunt’s mansion, and when the main door opened, she walked past the mansion’s butler without a word, and went straight to her room. She fell on the bed, sobbing her tears into the pillow. Was she so unlikeable that no one ever accepted her the way she was? Perhaps she had misread Eugene’s actions the first time when she had met him.

After coming to know how he despised and disliked her family, Rosetta’s heart was broken into pieces. She whispered to herself, “No one will ever love me…”

Same time in another place in the town of Darthmore, it was the day of execution. Ex-inner circle’s councilman Sylvester was led by two guards on either side towards the gallows, while the other inner circle’s councilmen, Clayton, the head of the Council and a few others like Vincent, Noah and lower ranked councilman stood not too far from the wooden gallows, waiting to see the execution of the man convicted for the murder of Jones Folwer.

Another member of the Inner circle councilman Mr. Hart murmured to a fellow councilman, “It is unfortunate that we don’t know why he killed Fowler. Not a drop of information was spilled by him. One who saw them together would think that they were on good terms.”

“Doesn’t it only say no one is ever a friend, Mr. Hart,” stated the councilman next to him, and Mr. Hart nodded. The man then turned to look at the Duke of Woodlock and whispered to Mr. Hart, “Did he tell the Duke about anything?”

Mr. Hart noticed the Duke holding an emotionless look on his face and replied in a low voice, “No information was found.”

Vincent stepped forward, coming to stand next to Noah and asked, “You didn’t appeal to the Council for his release from the dungeon. Did you lose trust in him?”

“I have come to believe there are some things that need to be left in the hands of the Council. I doubt you would have purposefully framed him like the others,” Noah calmly replied. As the two stood a few steps away from the others, people couldn’t hear them speak but only noticed their lips barely moved.

“Such faith in me. I feel very honoured for the work I do for the Council, Duke Noah,” Vincent’s eyes brightened up with amusement, but the Duke was not amused. “As the accused is tied to you closely, you will be watched very closely but I doubt there’s anything to watch at all. If you found the person whom Sylvester is working for, maybe we could still spare his life.”

Noah turned to meet Vincent’s curious, probing eyes and replied, “You should ask the dying man, as he’s the one with the answers.”

The guards and Sylvester stood on the gallows, where Sylvester’s hands were tied in iron shackles, and so were his ankles tied to each other with a short iron chain. Clayton, who stood near the gallows, questioned the accused,

“I believe you are already aware why you are here. Is there anything you would like to say, Sylvester, before you are executed?”

Sylvester held a faint smile, and his eyes filled with emptiness, where he looked relaxed. He answered, “No.” The man was a pureblooded vampire, and some council members couldn’t fathom why a man like him would conspire the murder of a fellow inner circle member.

“Very well then,” Clayton turned to look at the executioner and actioned him to proceed.

A black cloth was put over Sylvester’s head, and a loose noose was around his neck. Though a pureblooded vampire couldn’t die by being hung on the gallows, the Council liked to follow traditional methods along with the ways to kill vampires.

Soon a loaded gun was handed to the executioner with silver bullets in it, who placed it on the side of Sylvester’s head. The nozzle of the gun was much bigger than usual. During this time, Noah watched his mentor being ready to be shot. He wondered what secret Sylvester was protecting, while holding whys in his mind.

Not a moment later, the executioner pulled the trigger of the gun, and Sylvester’s head blew like a ripened pumpkin being thrown on the ground. Blood splattered on the gallows, and the body fell to the ground.

Vincent crossed his heart, and Noah turned to him, saying, “I didn’t know you believed in such things.”

“Unfortunately, some of my mother’s human teachings didn’t leave me,” Vincent replied and then said, “I am sorry for your loss.”

Most of the council members started to disperse from the place as the execution was done and there was nothing more to do near the gallows. Before Vincent could leave the place, Noah said, “Are you still on Fowler’s case? If yes, I would like to know who ordered Sylvester to kill Fowler and why.”

Vincent turned intrigued by Noah’s request. He replied, “If that is what you want, sure. I have something to ask you too. By any chance, do you know anyone who recently visited Berkshire?”

“Genevieve?” Noah questioned, not knowing if the vampire was testing him for something.

A smile formed on the pureblooded vampire’s face, “Well, yes. Eve was with me, but I mean a werewolf. You see, after we left Berkshire, we were attacked by a bunch of werewolves in the middle of the night and Eve almost, and I mean almost got hurt. I was perhaps wondering, if you know of any of your kind who went missing… because of me. I believe someone wasn’t happy that I put Sylvester behind the cell.”

“None that have come to my notice,” Noah responded and at the same time wondered if the person who sent werewolves to attack Vincent was the same person his mentor worked for. “I will look into it.”

Vincent gave him a nod, “Until we meet again then,” and he headed towards the Council’s main building, while Noah stood in the same place, staring at the lifeless body of his mentor that was now being picked up by the guards from the gallows.

On reaching Clayton’s chamber, Vincent knocked on the door and stepped inside the room, where the head of the Council was alone and sat behind his desk. The small looking vampire stared at him as if he wanted to kill Vincent with his glares.

“Do you always wake up so grumpily?” Vincent inquired with Clayton.

“You should be in the dungeon for the chaos you caused last night in the human town. What were you even thinking by burning down the town?!”

“Winter is here, I thought they could use some warmth as their souls have grown cold,” Vincent answered in a nonchalant tone, as he walked towards the desk. “Don’t worry, Clayton. I stayed there to warm my soul too and damn did the warmth sink deep into my soul.”

Clayton gritted his teeth while glaring at Vincent, “One more toe off the line, and don’t think you will be covered for it. Your actions were unreasonable, so you better do some damage control.”

“That is already in progress since this morning. I am sure they will praise and love the Council for the support being shown towards them,” Vincent picked up a grape from the bunch of fruits placed in the bowl and threw it in his mouth. “Actually, you should punish them back.”

“Keep your personal matters to yourself rather than causing disruption everywhere, Vincent. There are other important matters to handle, which is filling Sylvester’s shoes in the Inner Council.”

“You keep on forgetting that I am working for you temporarily and Sylvester’s shoes don’t interest me nor does Fowler’s. I am better off working without the rules set up for the rest,” Vincent made his intention clear, and the two stared at each other. “My arm was torn. What about that?”

Clayton’s eyes fell on Vincent’s arms, and he remarked, “They appear to be in perfect condition.”

Vincent rolled his eyes and said, “That’s because I joined it back. But imagine if I couldn’t. How would I carry my bride to be in both my arms, in a romantic way?”

The Head of the Council stared at Vincent in slight frustration. Not only were the council members and the people of the inner council pushing his buttons, but to make matters worse, Vincent was trying to stir the pot which he usually liked to do.

Clayton who then picked on what Vincent earlier said, asked, “Bride to be? You are getting married?”

“Unless it translates to killing more people, well then yes,” Vincent’s eyes sparkled. “Without a doubt, you are invited. You can accompany my little sister Allie,” the grin on his lips broadened when he noticed Clayton scowl at him.

“Bless the woman’s sanity who marries you,” Clayton muttered under his breath.

“That she does have. You have met Ms. Barlow. What more blessing do you need when I am in your life,” Vincent picked another grape and popped it into his mouth. Clayton, who had just gotten back to look at the parchments in his hands, looked up from it to look at the pureblooded vampire in front of him. Did he mean misery instead of a blessing? “By the way, I want you to explain to me what happened the first time we met.”

The blank expression on the small vampire’s face didn’t change. He asked, “Why?”

“Not the gore, but just you and me. How we started our great chemistry? What did you feel when you shook my hand?” Vincent placed his hands on the chair in front of the desk and leaned forward.

“Intense darkness,” Clayton deadpanned with his eyes dully looking at Vincent. “Why?”

“I was curious if you found someone else apart from me. With similar energy within them,” Vincent continued to probe for information.

“I don’t think I ever have. You are the special one,” Clayton responded, and Vincent softly chuckled.

“I wish that was true, but recently I came to find that there is another person who holds similar energy as me. My bet is on the current Duke of Woodlock.”

“Noah Sullivan?” Clayton questioned in doubt and stated, “I didn’t sense any such thing from him.”

“And what if he’s hiding it, not letting anyone know?” Vincent replied with another question.

“Even if he is, why are you curious about it? Why so suddenly?” Clayton wondered what was going on, but Vincent only shrugged his shoulders.

Not a moment later, the door of Clayton’s chamber was knocked upon by someone and soon appeared Marquee and Marchioness Hooke with another councilman next to them. Clayton stood up from his seat and greeted the high positioned couple of the high society, “Welcome to Darthmore, Marquee and Marchioness Hooke.”

Vincent turned to look at Lady Aurora and their eyes met. The vampiress appeared proud and confident with a subtle triumphant smile on her lips. Marquee Hooke greeted Clayton, “A pleasure to be here at Darthmore.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Clayton put up a business-like smile and could feel the rising tension in the atmosphere.

The councilman who entered the chamber along with the Hookes looked at Vincent before shifting his gaze to the Head of the Council and informed, “Sire, Marquee and Marchioness are here to discuss about their relative, Lady Camille Wright’s murder.” The man walked towards Clayton with a file and then offered it to the Head of the Council, “Here is the relevant information of evidence that you might want to have a look at.”

Lady Aurora raised her hand for the councilman to stop talking so she could take over the discussion. She addressed Clayton,

“Mr. Turner,” grabbing his attention for a moment, who had started to read the papers in the file he was handed, “The copies have been kept in a safe too, so that there are copies of it. My sister-in-law was brutally murdered and it is a pity that you couldn’t find the person behind it. With all the evidence pointing and people whom I will bring forward to speak, I would like you to detain Mr. Moriarty in the dungeon for murdering Camille,” her eyes shifted to meet Vincent, while her nose tipped up.