Chapter 215

Arthur’s Pov

Before we ditch our phones and get moving on delivering Robert to the vampires, my phone buzzes. I hesitate for a moment as the number flashing on the screen is only vaguely familiar.

“Answer it,” Almara says pressing up against my side. Only because of her I hit the accept call button.

“Arthur you need to make a speech down here at City Hall now,” The voice on the other line belongs to Cynthia, our publicist. I forgot I deleted all my publicist's phone numbers when Almara and I decided to go off the grid for a bit.

She speaks as though rushed and shouting over some commotion, but even still it’s hard to hear.

“I can’t,” I tell her and I know it isn’t what she wants to hear, but nothing is more important than getting to my daughter.

“Enough with your excuses,” Cynthia practically screeches and I have to hold the phone away from my ear. “It’s a mad house in the city and you’re the top Alpha. You have to fix this. Now.”

“What’s going on?” My father asks.

I put my hand over the receiving end of the phone. “Cynthia wants me to make a unifying speech. I think the civil war is getting out of hand,” Just then I hear Cynthia scream on the other end.

“Go,” Almara says lightly touching my arm. I look at her like she’s crazy. I can’t leave her.

“I won’t be alone,” she says reading my thoughts and worries exactly. “This could be good for us,” She says and I see an idea formulating in his mind.

I hear Cynthia panicked on the other end, though I can’t make out her distinct words. I put the phone back up to my ear. “Okay, okay,” I tell her to calm her down. “I’m on my way.” I hang up the phone and look at Almara to tell me why I agreed to do what I just did.

“If you’re on TV making speeches about the common enemy, and the councilmen happen to see it- they’ll know you won’t be on their territory plotting an attack. They’ll think you’re here doing damage control, because well that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

I think about what she’s telling me, and it makes sense. The expected thing for the Alpha to do in times of crisis is to mend the panic. It would appear suspicious if I disappeared, not to mention we might lose whatever little other support we may have. And we need all the help we can get.

After a long and painful goodbye, Almara and I part our ways. We agree that in three days this is our meeting spot. If she isn’t here, I’m coming to get her- hopefully with an army of new supporters.

Eventually, I make it to the center city. Cynthia had me call her when I got to a place with an address so she could send a car and security for me. I wanted to tell her that wouldn’t be necessary, but my body would thank me for the rest.

Now as the blacked-out car crawls through the battered city streets, I’m even more grateful I agreed to be escorted. The city looks worse than the battlefield I was on. Buildings are smashed, glass and blood are splattered on pavements and benches.

Everyone’s gone completely savage. Though I know the windows are tinted, I still feel the cold death stare of pedestrians as if they’re looking right at me. Many of them show me their teeth as we drive by, and several more through unidentifiable objects in the car.

When we pull up to the podium on a makeshift elevated stage, I don’t want to get out of the car. It’s not the fear of being attacked physically, it’s the contempt in my people’s eyes that I don’t want to face.

The car door is open and I step out to see security lining the rather empty stage. In the distance snarls, growls, and whimpers are the soundtrack to this supposedly inspiring and unifying speech I’m supposed to deliver.

Cynthia hussles over, ducking under some rope and hands me a looseleaf piece of paper she’s been gripping so tightly in her hand the sheet of paper is wrinkled. “These are talking points that re vital you hit on,” she tells me, but I wave her and her paper off.

I climb up through the backway onto the stage. I realize in that moment, there’s a very good possibility I could be shot.

I step up to the mic and look out to the crowd. Half look like they want to kill me, and the other half give a weak applause. All of them look like they’ve been fighting off death and barely winning.

For a moment, I’m without words. I just keep looking at their faces and share in their sadness. Then, Bess’s face forms in my mind. “What would you do?” I ask her and realize the mic had picked it up.

No one answered, somehow knowing I wasn’t talking to any of them. But I roll with it. “What would you do?” I ask, this time more direct to the crowd. Still no one answers, I don’t think they know how.

“No one knows? Then what is it that you are doing?” I plead with them. Cynthia’s voice comes in through the earbud I’m wearing.

“The purpose is not to tell at the crowd, Arthur.” She says. I take the earpiece out and drop it to the ground and crush the piece with my foot.

“This is exactly what the vampires want, you know that don’t you?” I ask them. Again silence. “Don’t you!” The mic squeals at the sudden volume change. “Why are you doing their bidding for them?”

I continue on in my fit of rage, not really knowing what I’m saying but at least I’m speaking from the heart. By the end of it, people are clapping.

I walk off the stage and Cynthia runs up to me, smiling ear to ear. “I don’t know what you did or what you’ve done with theArthur I know, but it’s good to meet you.” Cynthia pulls our her ipad and tries to keep up in pace with me.

“You got a seventy-five percent improved rating according to our stats,” Cynthia says, but I’m not looking at her screen.

“Great,” I say to her and quicken my strides. I’m going to Bess’s grave.