Chapter 117

Almara’s Pov

Roman and I are escorted into the visitors center. Unfortunately, there’s no VIP section that accommodates billionaires, Roman asked. So, instead we wait among the commoners who are paying us no attention as they’re too absorbed in conversation with their locked-up loved ones.

Eventually, Robert is brought to Roman and me the visitor’s room. I’m not sure why but I feel the need to stand up to greet him, though I remain seated where I’m at. No need to draw any unnecessary attention.

“Father.” Robert smiles slyly at Roman, knowing just that single word must cause his blook to boil. Roman responds back with a low growl.

“You have five minutes.” The guard who brought him over tells us.

“We’ll need less than that.” Roman says. I fold my hands in my lap, worried I’d be fidgeting otherwise. A minute is wasted as Roman and Arthur eye one another, waiting for the other to speak first. Irritated by this toxic masculinity contest, I break the silence.

“Why am I here?” I ask. Robert. Breaks eye contact and gives me a once over, causing my skin to crawl. He doesn’t even look tired, as if the recent events have had no toll on him whatsoever. Which, I guess for Robert if something doesn’t impact him directly then it wouldn’t stress him.

“For two reasons.” Robert tells me, “First is as a witness to the conversation. I don’t trust that Roman won’t manipulate or misrepresent what I say.” He pauses as if expecting me to retort about he shouldn’t trust me either, which he shouldn’t but he doesn’t need to explicitly know that. Yet.

“The second reason is I wanted to ask how my niece is doing, and if you’ve given any more thought to what we discussed in the car, you know when I saved you.” Heat floods to my cheeks at how easily that sentence can be misconstrued. I can sense Roman raise his eyebrows at me.

“I haven’t.” I say honestly. Robert clicks his tongue as though my answer tells of a dreadful shame.

“Why are we here?” Roman asks, getting to the heart of the conversation.

“I know how to cure Arthur.” Robert says nonchalantly. If he’s waiting for Roman to grovel, I think we may need longer than whatever time we have left.

“We’re already ahead of you. If that’s all, then I think we’re done.” Roman lifts his hand to summon the guard. “Told you we wouldn’t need all five minutes.” I want to bolt out this door and return back to Arthur just as much as anybody, but something about Robert’s expression makes me wonder.

“Let me guess,” Robert says, toying with a hangnail “bat clippings, dandelion, plasma juice, red lizard’s tongue, and garlic.” Robert darts his eyes between me and Roman. “That correct?” We don’t say anything. Robert snorts. “That’s poison. It’s a faux drink released by vampires to the other nations as top-secret knowledge when it reality, it’ll kill you.”

“Two minutes.” The guard calls and suddenly the pressing of time is closing in. If what Robert is saying is true, we’re screwed. Arthur either dies or turns one way or another.

“What are the correct ingredients then?” I blurt out knowing Robert won’t just offer it up.

“Have them release me and I’ll help you.” Robert says.

“We already have help.” Roman mutters under his breath.

“You found a vampire willing to help you?” Robert asks in disbelief. When we don’t answer, Robert furrows his brows as though connecting the dots. “Unless of course, he’ not willing.” The ticking of the clock becomes even more apparent and this time it’s Robert who leans in, words flowing from his mouth.

“Have them release me and I’ll help you. If you don’t I’ll tell the police about the hostage you’re keeping and Arthur dies anyways.”

“One minute, start saying your goodbyes.” The guard calls, and I want to yell back and tell him to shut up.

“For all you know, you might not even get the chance to say goodbye to Arthur. My guess is he’s running pretty low on time as it is.”

Roman stands from his chair, a few eyes look his way. “Roman, what are you doing?” I ask.

“Leaving. He’s bluffing.” Roman says and waves the guard over. My throat begins to tighten.

“Roman, let him go and if he’s lying we can always throw him back in jail, or make him drink the potion.” I urge. I have no reason to trust Robert, but if what he’s saying is any bit true, any of it, then it’s a chance I’m willing to take.

“Times up. Let’s go.” The guard says, the breadth of his chest and mass of his arms telling us we better not try any funny business.

“Tell Mark that Roman says he can go.” Roman says, keeping his eyes set hard on Robert. A sense of relief causes the knots in my stomach to untangle, though it might be too premature to see if Robert walking free is really a good thing.

Moments later we all walk out of the jail and are being driven home by the same cop who picked me and Roman up. The drive is long and silent.

We finally reach home, this time with Robert trailing behind. The media has thankfully subsided, because it would be quite the headline if it got found out Roman was allowing Robert inside his house.

We step inside. The rest of the family is waiting in the living room along with the captive, and I can only imagine the awkward tension as they all sat around waiting for our return. Elenor is tossing back some dark liquid in such a manner that indicates this isn’t her first drink.

I see Arthur has woken up and is holding Grace in his arms. My heart gives a flutter and I take long strides over to him.

He holds Grace in one arm and scoops me in the other giving me a peck on the lips. He does look less tired, but still deeply torn. Arthur looks as though he’s about to say something and then stops. I follow the direction of his gaze and see he’s noticed Robert.

“What is he doing here?” Robert asks, handing Grace to me with such a force I can’t even be upset, maybe he is getting his strength back.

Robert squares his chest as everyone in the room gives their fair share of disgusted facial expressions. “He is going to drink the potion.” Roman says, commanding the attention of the room.

“Like Hell I will.” Robert balks. “We had an agreement.”

Roman laughs. “No. You made your terms and now I’m making mine.” Roman snaps his fingers in the direction of the hostage, whose name I never learned. “Jack, call the most recent number on my phone and tell them we no longer need subject A.”

Subject A, as Roman so cooly refers to the man, rises to his feet and keeps his head low as he follows uncle Jack out the living room door.

“This will kill me, or anyone for that matter.” Robert says, though I must say it’s a rather weak argument. Shouldn’t he know everyone in this room couldn’t care less if he died.

“He’s lying.” Arthur fumes. “When I was in the woods, I had visions of ingredients. Each of these items were in my visions. It has to be the correct concoction. He just doesn’t want me to drink it.”

Robert laughs. “By all means, if you want to drink it then please, suit yourself.” He casts a glance in Roman’s direction. “That would leave me as your only son.”“That was your plan when you found me in the woods anyways.” Athur interjects a bit more loudly this time. Grace fusses and I put my hand over her ear, gently shushing her. I move to go stand by Cathy whose watching with wide eyes on the far-right side of the wall.

“You wanted me to, you tried to make me drink blood, knowing there would be no way to then reverse this.” Arthur continues. I think back to when I spotted Arthur and Robert in deep conversation in the woods, how intense Robert had looked. As though set on a mission.

“Ah, yes. Though you wouldn’t be dead.” Robert points out.

“This will heal me and you don’t want me to drink it. Why should we trust whatever you make? For all we know, you could be the one to poison me.”

“Currently you’re far more valuable to me alive than dead.” Robert answers honestly.

“For goodness sake,” Elenor throws her hands up in defeat, “what we have must be tested or there’s no way to know if what Robert is saying is true.”

“Which is why Robert is going to drink the potion.” Roman says, heading for the trinket in his wife’s hands.

“Then I’ll be dead and Arthur is no better off.” Robert says.

“I’ll take it.” I hear Cathy say standing next to me. She steps forward, offering herself up to be the test subject. The room becomes silent and still.