Chapter 122

Almara’s Pov

We wait for the dark figure to reappear. My eyes have since adjusted to the dim lighting and I attempt to make out my surroundings.

We stand on something like sidewalk, but the platform is much larger in width. Between us and the man Robert was talking to is a thick metal gate. I can see something like a road next to us, though it’s not level to the pavement we stand on. The road is lowered by a few feet that is accessed by a ladder hanging on just the other side of the gate.

I squint and catch a glistening sheen on the road, then I realize it’s not pavement. It’s water. We’re going to be transported by boat. The echoes of water dripping become more apparent at this realization.

“Think of fake identities.” Robert tells us in a quickened hushed town, though still is voice is louder than he probably intended due to the rounding of the tunnels acting as an amplifier of sound.

During the discussion of the plan, Robert told us this would be likely to happen. Before we embarked on our mode of transportation to the Council of Bloody Hollow, we would first have to give identities. It’s protocol to keep diligent track of all those who make requests to visit the council.

When we reach the destination of the council, we’ll pull over and cover ourselves in makeup to alter our appearances to be that of more vampire-like. Besides, should anyone put out a notice for us, we’ll look different than when we embarked on our ride.

He moves closer to us to unlatch the gate separating us and him. I catch a glimpse of his face and instinctively retreat. He looks as though he lives down here, never having seen the sun and wrinkled by extended exposure to water.

As if sensing my repulsion, he gives me a wicked smile as we slip through the gate in a single filed line. “Before you embark, please sign and date here.” The man says, gesturing to a small notebook resting on the ledge of his office hut. He then moves away, I assume to prepare our ride.

Robert goes first, followed by Roman, Bess, and lastly me. I scan the fake names the others gave. Robert put Adam Goreswell, Roman signed Damien Wings, and Bess in old-fashioned elegant writing put Amber Rose. I was too focused on what was happening outside of me, I didn’t think of a name.

I hold the pen, increasingly aware of the eyes starring at me wondering what’s taking me so long. In a panic, I write Lily Fangs. Really? My name? Thanks a lot. I grimace and quickly try to write ‘Lilith’ over the black ink. What’s left is a black ink blob and ‘Fangs’ as the last name.

How clever. Lily tells me with an eye roll. I bet no one really reads this thing anyways. I say to her, though I’m mostly trying to convince myself.

“Watch your step.” The man says as we lower down the ladder, Roman first who helps Bess down. Robert is next to go, but I cut in front of him, just wanting to get a move on and get away from this creepy man. I can’t help but feeling like the longer we stay with him, the more likely something bad will happen.

Robert gives me a dirty look as I butt in front of him, but I don’t care. Once we’re on the lower platform, a long canoe makes it’s way slowly up to us. The boat is a dark wood, curved to a point on both ends with bat wings as the symbol at the forefront of the boat.

Another man stands on the boat, he must be on some kind of stool because he looks to be over six feet tall, even with a hunch back. He rows to a stop and slowly climbs is way down to meet us on the platform. “Heaviest up front.” He says and Roman climbs in, followed by Robert, me, then Bess.

We all try to avoid direct eye contact and remain silent. According to the plan, the less we offer the better. “You’ll need to discard your bag at your destination, Ms.” The rower tells me.

I didn’t expect him to notice my bag tucked under my jacket which contains our make up and his direct speech to me throws me off guard. “Yes, of course.” I say quietly, hoping to disguise my voice.

As I take my seat, I don’t need to be making eye contact to feel his suspicious stare on me. I’m burning up under the scrutiny, but don’t dare to remove my jacket. He doesn’t need to see that my skin is full of vitality and color.

The seats are dry, though the floor of the boat is damp. The canoe rocks gently as the man gets back in. He assumes his position at the tip of the canoe and begins to paddle, waving farewell to the other vampire who saw us off.

With his back turned to us, we all exchange glances at one another and attempt communication through facial expressions and jerky head nods. Robert seems to be telling us that phase two of the plan is complete. Phase one being getting through the city gates in the first place.

Though phase one didn’t quite go according to plan, we should be fine for now. Phase three will be disguising ourselves and entering the doors of the Council. Roman tells us all to stay quiet and Bess’s attention seems to be fixated on the water behind us. I watch as he lowers her hand into the water and lets it hang there in a disinterested lazy kind of fashion.

I give a curious glance her way, and Roman shakes his head as though to say he doesn’t know either.

“Why do you all want to see the Council?” The rower asks, still facing forward. We all look at one another, seeing who wants to answer. After a moment too long, Robert speaks. “We want to open a store and need to secure funds.”

“What kind of store?” The rower asks, genuinely curious.

“Cape and cloak repairs, mostly.” Bess answers this time. “I’ve been sewing a long time during my life. Though we may offer some other services like bat wing shaping.”

“That be nice.” The rower says as though his mind is elsewhere. We all look at Bess, I think in somewhat surprise that she should know the economic demands of vampire life but her gaze and hand is already back on the water trailing from behind the boat.

A static noise breaks the moment of silence. The rower lifts something up to his ear. We all look at each other, waiting for someone to explain what’s going on. Though no one has the answer as to what conversation is transpiring between our rower and the person on the other line.

“Is that so?” The rower asks, the tone is voice conveying intrigue. “Got it.” It’s a brief interaction. The rower hangs up and another moment of silence passes.

“What did you say your names where again?” The rower asks whilst hanging to the left causing the boat to slightly turn.

“We didn’t.” Robert says.

“Hm.” Is all the rower replies with. No one speaks for moves. It seems as if the boat just dropped in speed.

“Did you all hear about the Hurricane Pack that drove through the city gates? Fascinating isn’t it?” The rower turns his head slightly, just so we can see the curl of his smile.

“What is?” Roman asks sharply.

“Werewolves making there way to this part of town, the same day a request to the Council of Bloody Hollow is made in years.”

The sound of water dripping somewhere in the distance becomes heightened. The boat has stopped progressing forward. No one moves.

“What are your names?” The rower knowingly asks.